One Knight Only Page 6

  She didn’t like watching him flirt. The maidservant was gesturing broadly to include the whole table, and more than one knight looked on Philip with envy that he had her attention. Her simple gown was too tight and too low across her bosom, and he was at the perfect viewing height. She sat down in his lap, and they whispered together. If Anne was this jealous over a serving maid, she prayed she would not be around when he courted a gentlewoman.

  “Lady Rosamond, do not frown so,” said the baron.

  Anne felt unnerved that her expression had been so obvious. Had Sir Walter noticed? She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t intent on her part.

  “Your knight is not abusing my hospitality. Maud is used to the attention of men. She is harmless.”

  “As is Sir Philip,” she returned quickly, smiling.

  But she wasn’t so sure. Philip now had his arm around Maud, his hand on the girl’s hip. What was he doing?

  After dinner, when the minstrels were tuning their instruments, and several of the knights had opened a game board of Tables to play, Lord Milforth turned to her expectantly. To her surprise, his smile widened, and he put his hand on her knee. She couldn’t very well turn him away, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw his son Charles gaping at them. She could not allow this situation to get out of hand.

  She saw Philip glance between the head table and Charles. He met her gaze. Did he understand that someone would have to mollify Charles?

  She turned to the baron. “My lord, allow me to entertain you after your gift of such a fine meal.”

  He started to rise to his feet—what did he think she meant?—but she gently pushed him back, smiled wickedly, and walked away.

  Chapter 5

  P hilip and the rest of the guests in the great hall watched with anticipation as Anne sauntered slowly between the trestle tables. He knew that the Bladesmen were just as ready as he was to come to her defense, but no one tried to touch her. Maud, the maid Philip had been flirting with, gave a pout as the attention of the men shifted from her.

  Anne approached the minstrels, and then after a few quiet words, took one of their lutes and began to strum it, her head bent forward in concentration. The veil fluttered in a soft draft, her eyes were closed, and Philip felt the image at a very deep level, as if she were a painting come to life. Hundreds of candles glowed on her ivory skin, highlighting each wave of her hair. She was so very beautiful. And when her strumming took on the notes of a merry tune, he thought of the unexpected talents she possessed.

  Smiling, she walked among the people of the hall, playing a song. When she began to sing, her voice was deep and husky, reverberating through him at a depth he didn’t want to think about. If he weren’t careful, he’d be looking at her with the same worshipfulness as some of the others in the hall.

  But not the Bladesmen. Their gazes were cool, roaming deliberately over the assembled guests. Philip did the same, and immediately saw Charles Milforth, the man’s expression caught between a scowl and relief. Was he glad Anne had left his father’s side?

  Suddenly, Maud was in front of Philip, smiling wickedly, catching his hand and pulling him to his feet. There were cheers and whistles as she danced her way around him, and he had no choice but to swing her about with feigned eagerness.

  He knew Anne watched them as she sang, though she did not miss a note.

  After a few turns about the rush-strewn floor, Philip noticed that Charles was on his feet, his back to the performance. Philip handed off the twirling maid to David, who must have been trying to get out of the way of the dancers. David looked startled, but Maud only gaped up at the sheer height of him, grinned, and took his hands.

  Charles kept glancing back at the merriment in the hall, then at his father, who clapped in time to the music.

  Philip moved swiftly between the guests until he reached the young man. Picking up a tankard of ale from the tray of a passing valet, he lifted it to Charles. “A toast to the future of your good family. ’Tis a shame I probably won’t see it.”

  Charles frowned at him. “What do you mean? If they marry…” His voice trailed off.

  “Your family’s future will not necessarily include my mistress.”

  The young man glowered at his father. “Not if he has any say about it.”

  “But he doesn’t, does he?” Philip answered with certainty. “It is my mistress’s choice, and believe me, she entertains and flirts and smiles at every household we visit.”

  Charles looked as if he wanted to believe him. “You truly believe she will be allowed to make her own decision?”

  “Who is to gainsay her? Though the earldom has passed to a cousin of her late husband, Lady Rosamond is rich in land and monies of her own, and need not marry again. There is no desperation on her part, and we have many more noblemen to visit.”

  Charles considered him thoughtfully. “My thanks for your honesty.”

  Philip lifted another tankard and clinked it with his. “And my thanks for the ale.”

  Remaining beside the young man, Philip turned to watch the dancing. Anne looked away quickly, as if she’d been aware of his conversation with Charles. She began another song, bolder, with a second meaning that had many in the hall laughing uproariously.

  Disgruntled, Philip wondered where she’d learned it—or from whom.

  He suddenly realized that Walter was watching him, eyes narrowed. Philip cocked his head, but all the older knight did was glance at Charles, smile faintly, then turn back to watch over Anne.

  Ah, approval. What every knight lived for, Philip thought with grim amusement.

  When it was finally time to escort Anne to her bedchamber, the merriment in the hall had begun to wind down. The lord’s son had found his bed long before, and the baron himself had to be awoken from where he sat slumped in his chair.

  Philip fell into line with the Bladesmen, allowing Walter to lead them all through the torchlit corridors of the castle. As usual, Margaret met them in Anne’s chamber, ready to assist her mistress out of her garments.

  As Anne’s door closed with her inside, Walter said, “Sir Philip, you may take the first duty.”

  Philip nodded. “Of course.”

  “I will have the next man come to replace you when the candle burns down two hours.” Walter looked about, as if seeing that the corridor was deserted. “Do not be surprised to find two of us gone for several hours this night.”

  Philip whispered, “What do you mean?”

  “We cannot take the chance that soldiers will again be waiting to follow us as we begin our journey. We will search the countryside for clues.”

  “But the castle gates were closed hours ago.”

  Walter’s smile was faint. “We do not have to worry about gates.”

  Philip longed to ask him how they planned to leave, but Anne’s safety was more important. “Did Milforth’s soldiers return from hunting for our thieves?”

  “Aye. They were not found, of course.”

  “Of course. I do not believe Milforth is involved.”

  Walter studied him. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because Joseph discovered that no soldiers had gone missing, and I spoke with a maid, who indicated that everything was as it should be.”

  “That is good to know,” Walter said, inclining his head.

  Anne, restless and too anxious to sleep, leaned against the door, but she could not hear what was going on in the corridor. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts, to remember what might have happened today if her soldiers weren’t experts in their craft. She opened the door, and both men turned. Philip watched her too closely, and she almost changed her mind.

  “I will not be able to fall asleep,” she admitted. “I was going to ask to be accompanied on a walk—”

  Philip spoke first. “I will do it, my lady. We have found nothing to fear within these walls.”

  Anne almost winced when Sir Walter glanced speculatively at Philip, but he said nothing. How could she beg for Sir Wa
lter’s company in Philip’s place?

  Reluctantly, she said to Philip, “You will do.”

  He inclined his head and took a position behind her, as a bodyguard should. She could feel him there, reliable and stalwart, keeping her safe from harm—but she could not protect her emotions from him.

  Whatever communication Sir Walter was able to impart with his eyes, he did so to Philip. She glanced over her shoulder, but Philip only arched a brow at her.

  “My lady, when you are ready.”

  She started to walk, not really knowing where she wanted to go, only knowing that she needed air to clear her head—and she didn’t want to face more people asking if she favored Lord Milforth. So at the first circular staircase, she went up several flights. Philip was silent behind her, offering no criticism, as if she were truly his lady. Why were her feelings of anger toward him fading away under the onslaught of seeing him every moment of the day? She wanted to hold that anger between them as a separation, but she was losing the struggle. Lately, she was far more upset with herself than with him. How could she blame him if he acted upon his desire for her, when she could think of nothing else?

  At the top, the final doorway led out onto the walkway lining the battlements. She took a deep breath, and the air was warmer than inside the castle, but in a comforting way. She started to walk, looking out over the dark countryside. Torches were interspersed here and there, ringing the battlements, lighting the darkness in shallow round pools that flickered in silhouette with the flames.

  “Is something bothering you, Lady Rosamond?”

  Philip’s deep voice at her back did not startle her; she could never forget his presence.

  “Nay, it is just that a bedchamber can be too silent. At first, I thought it a rare treat to sleep alone, but now I find that I miss the reassurance of someone at night.”

  He made a choked sound, not quite a smothered laugh, and then she realized how that could be interpreted.

  “I meant my mistress,” she said with annoyance.

  “Or your ladies?” he added.

  “Aye.” She blushed. Of course Lady Rosamond had no mistress.

  “If you’ll permit me to speak freely…”

  Suddenly his voice was even closer, and when she turned around, he was right behind her, his head above hers. She stood her ground, angry that he was not keeping to the boundaries of his duties as bodyguard. By torchlight, she could see the arch of one raised eyebrow.

  “I cannot very well stop you,” she answered tartly.

  “Of course you could, but I know that you are a woman who enjoys conversation. Surely you have not forgotten those many days alone trapped in Alderley’s tower.”

  She turned away again, not wanting to be seen so close to him by the soldiers who walked the length of the battlements. She put her hand on the cold stone and looked out into darkness. “An easy deduction on your part.”

  He was standing at her side now, but far enough away for propriety. “Of course. But I wanted to offer you a compliment. Your performance here is quite astounding.”

  She told herself to accept the praise, but she couldn’t shake her suspicion, and her words came out more sternly than she’d intended. “As in you never thought I, a mere lady’s maid, would be capable of it?”

  “I wasn’t implying so because of your position in life. Most people could not easily portray others, even if they’re of the same class. You have a talent at mimicry that impresses me.”

  “Thank you.” The whole purpose of this was to deceive everyone. The fact that Philip thought she was good at it should reassure her. Did the Bladesmen agree with him?

  “This husband hunt is a brilliant way for you to draw just enough attention.”

  “Now you’re no longer complimenting me, but my lady.”

  “So I shouldn’t waste my time?”

  She shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “You are not so easy to talk to anymore.”

  She gave him a cool glance. “Do you blame me?”

  “Nay, you have reason to be wary, and not just of me. Every moment of your day is full of the tension of keeping your secret, worrying about being discovered—or attacked—and protecting something that has implications for the entire kingdom.”

  “And now you know why I needed this walk.”

  “Do you like pretending to be someone else?” he asked.

  She bit her lip, uncertain how to answer. He hardly deserved her confidence. And she wasn’t about to tell him of her plans to join the League permanently. He would believe it was his manly duty to protect her from such a dangerous decision. “‘Like’ is the wrong word,” she said slowly. “I am confident in my skills, and proud to be able to help.”

  “And glad to be away from Alderley?”

  She glared at him. “I never said that. Alderley is my home, where my dearest friend resides.”

  “But you are a lady’s maid there, and here you’re the focus of everything.”

  She didn’t answer—what could she say? He was right, but she didn’t want him to know it.

  “What about your own family?” he continued. “Do they know what you’re doing?”

  Inside her, a crack of pain opened whenever she thought of her family. “I didn’t tell them. They…did not react well when they heard that I’d exchanged places with Lady Elizabeth.”

  “But she asked you to,” he said in disbelief. “You were obeying your mistress.”

  “But apparently I was hurting my chances at marriage, because according to my parents, a man nearer my own station might believe I thought myself better than he.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  She only shrugged. “They are simple people, with one view of the world. If they knew I was getting paid for another masquerade…” She trailed off, knowing they would think her a harlot. She knew Philip was watching her, trying to see beneath her words, but she didn’t look at him.

  “I am glad you’re being compensated for the risk you’re taking.”

  She tried to laugh, and it sounded stilted. “Are you being compensated enough for these risks? Today’s attack might not be the last.”

  “Lady Rosamond, you need not concern yourself with me. I am here to help protect you.”

  Perhaps he was as good at mimicry as she was, for she found she didn’t believe him.

  “You can’t just be here for me,” she said in disbelief. “You were winning tournaments and making a name for yourself.”

  “Perhaps this, too, can someday have the king’s attention, even more than a tournament win. I’ll have my chance at court to make a better life for myself.”

  “You mean by making a good marriage.” How else did a knight rise in influence and property if not with dower land? He had told her so, and she had been forced to accept it. She had her own goals now, but inside she still could not conquer the slow bleed of resentment.

  “Aye, I want a good marriage,” he said, looking away from her and out into the dark countryside.

  She wondered if there was a deeper reason it was so important to him. She knew nothing of his family, and was not about to ask, though he’d proved curious enough about hers. The wind picked up, and she hugged herself against the chill.

  “Don’t you?” he added.

  The glance he gave her was far too penetrating.

  Marriage was not on her mind, but she had to pretend it was so. “You assume someone would want to marry me.”

  Oh, that sounded too personal, too bitter.

  He inhaled swiftly, but only said, “John told me that your father is a yeoman farmer. Since he owns his own property, surely you have a dowry.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “Nay, I’ll only have what the League gives me. It will have to be enough. Shall we go inside?”

  When she turned to walk away, she realized that he didn’t follow her, only stood with his hip against the battlements and studied her.

  Philip watched the stiff, proud way that Anne held herself as she tur
ned to face him. The wind caught her hair, fluttering her veil, teasing out individual curls to fly free. He wanted to put his arms around her, to comfort her. Without a dowry, any marriage she made would be poor indeed.

  “What happened?” he asked quietly.

  She came back toward him, keeping her voice soft, although the nearest guard had to be fifty yards away.

  “And why do you think a simple lady’s maid would have a dowry?”

  She said it lightly, but he wasn’t fooled.

  “Ah, let me guess,” he said. “Your parents weren’t happy with your masquerade, so they took it away from you?”

  “Nay, they took it away when I would not marry the man they chose for me. They thought to punish my disobedience, but it did not work.”

  Why did he feel that there was more to the story than what she was saying? Yet learning of her family was too intimate. And he was trying to stay away from that with her. “So this is why you accepted the assignment.”

  “It was not the money.” She turned her head away. “I cannot believe I am discussing this with you of all people.”

  He laughed softly, not offended.

  “It was the chance to help that seemed so important,” she said.

  “And I wouldn’t understand this?” he asked. “Aren’t I helping you?”

  “You’re helping yourself, too.”

  “Aren’t we all? Except perhaps the Bladesmen, whose anonymity earns them no credit.”

  “How am I helping myself?” she demanded.

  “By meeting as many people as you can with hopes of advancement, the same as me.”

  “So I want notoriety?”

  “That is too strong a word.”

  “Not for your motive,” she shot back.

  He caught her arm when she would have turned away. She felt warm and soft and slender. “I didn’t mean to make you angry,” he said. “Perhaps we were helping each other back at Alderley.”

  They stared at one another, and in the darkness, it was easy to remember their furtive efforts to be alone, to take solace in their intimacy because everything else was too painful. It was hard to believe he’d been so upset by the League’s rejection. But back then he’d had no idea what direction to take his life, and he’d felt lost. He wondered if she felt that way now.