One Knight Only Read online

  She trusted the Bladesmen, knew that once again last night they had left the security of the castle to ensure her safety this morn, but they could not know what they would meet down the road. Her knights formed a square around Margaret and her, their gazes seeing far into the distance.

  Throughout the morning, overcast and misty with patches of rain, Anne noticed that Philip occasionally broke the monotony by trying to converse with one of the knights, but got nowhere in his quest to learn more about them. She could have told him they would never speak of their personal lives. Bladesmen took an oath of secrecy, so she was told, and guarded their privacy vehemently. After all, they had lives to return to. She didn’t even know if any of them were married or had children, or were noblemen or simple knights.

  Yet never once did she hear Philip discussing the League itself.

  Elizabeth had told her that Philip knew every story of the League, had even mapped out where each event had occurred, as if he would be able to figure out where their command was located. Anne had just assumed he would want to be here, in close proximity to the Bladesmen, so that he could discover even more about them.

  But had Sir Walter’s invitation to join her retinue done him an injustice, rather than a favor? If he truly had decided he would no longer pursue membership, she’d taken him away from the path he’d chosen for his life.

  Yet last night he’d said he would find a way to be noticed. What better way than aiding the kingdom? King Henry would probably be so grateful, that he’d offer Philip his choice of wellborn young ladies with ample…dowries.

  Anne sighed, and Margaret, riding at her side, gave her a nervous glance, but asked no questions. Of course not—no one could ask about Anne’s personal life; she was Lady Rosamond Wolsingham.

  Who should not be thinking about one of her guards.

  Chapter 7

  A s the morning progressed and they journeyed ever southward, Anne’s head began to ache from searching the countryside for attackers. How did the Bladesmen remain so calm? They seemed to behave no differently. But of course, their lives were full of adventure. If she wanted the same for herself, she would have to become used to being alert and wary.

  She had to endure Philip’s obvious suspicion about what had happened with Lord Milforth, but he didn’t ask her questions in front of the other knights.

  They scouted for a well-protected area before breaking for the midday meal. Anne stiffly dismounted and gave a soft groan as she stretched her legs. She had never ridden this much in her life.

  “Sir Philip?” Sir Walter called. “I feel the need for fresh meat this day. Do you consider yourself up to the task of hunting?”

  “Of course,” Philip said, patting the dagger at his waist.

  His face was impassive when he turned away from Sir Walter, but Anne saw Philip’s expression change to curiosity, and she silently admitted to the same.

  When he had gone, all three knights turned to face Anne, and she tensed in surprise.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “I overheard Lord Milforth’s advances upon you,” Sir Walter said.

  Though she tried not to blush, she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. “And I was able to fend him off easily; he’d had too much to drink.”

  “I regret that I was not able to rescue you.”

  “That is kind of you, but unnecessary. Lady Rosamond should know how to deal with amorous men.”

  “But that is the problem.”

  To her surprise, he rocked once on his feet as if he were nervous, then glanced at his fellow Bladesmen. The other two looked at the ground.

  “Just speak, Sir Walter.” Anne couldn’t imagine anything being worse than all this awkwardness.

  He took a deep breath. “You are an innocent maiden, but Lady Rosamond is not. She would know just how to kiss such a man.”

  So he’d overheard Lord Milforth’s remark, Anne thought, wincing. She could not confess that she’d been trying to dissuade him, that she already knew how to kiss—and more. Then they would know that she was not the innocent maiden they thought she was. Though she did not have much respect as a lady’s maid, she valued the little she had.

  “I promise that I will do better if it should happen again,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes.

  After a wide-eyed look, Margaret busied herself at the fire.

  “I think you need to be educated in such things,” Sir Walter continued. “Lady Rosamond is a woman known to be open about intimacy. A kiss might happen again, and we cannot afford to have people suspicious.”

  She gaped at him—did he mean to teach her such a thing? He was of the age of her father.

  Sir Walter pushed Sir Joseph toward her. The poor knight stumbled, his handsome face flushing red.

  Sir Walter cleared his throat. “We thought he might be easier to kiss, because his height is not so much greater than yours.”

  How could she kiss Sir Joseph and still face him every day?

  “I do not wish to offend any of you,” Anne began haltingly, “but I cannot—it would be unseemly to. Cannot you just…describe it?”

  A bolder woman would know how to deal with this, but she just stood there helplessly.

  Suddenly, Philip came out of the woods, holding a dead rabbit by the ears. She was so relieved she could have wilted.

  “That was quick,” Sir Walter said.

  Philip looked at them all, and she prayed he had not heard what they were discussing.

  “’Tis a good thing I’m a fast hunter,” Philip said mildly. “I would have missed this amusing discussion.”

  Anne groaned and turned away. She wished she could glare at Sir Walter, but it wasn’t his fault that she was too embarrassed to tell him the truth.

  “Sir Joseph,” Philip continued, “by your blush, I think you’re a married man.”

  Anne peeked at the Bladesman, but he said nothing.

  “And the rest of you are too old to be kissing such a pretty young maiden.” He handed the rabbit to Sir Walter. “I will do the honors.”

  Philip understood her dilemma, Anne thought with relief. He was rescuing her, saving her from embarrassment. She kept a frown on her face just the same.

  Sir Walter handed the rabbit to Sir David, and then turned back to Philip. “I do not think this wise. Sir Joseph would be able to control himself—”

  “Because he is married?” Philip said. “You wish to make him feel he is betraying his wife?”

  “I would not be betraying my wife,” Sir Joseph said hotly.

  “So you are married,” Philip said with satisfaction. “That rules you out. Sir David, are you going to demand the honors?”

  Sir David, towering above them all, hunched his shoulders and looked like he wanted to sink into the dirt of the forest. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  Anne was beginning to feel a bit rejected.

  “Then it is up to me,” Philip said, taking her hand. “Let’s go, Lady Rosamond.”

  “Where do you think you’re taking her?” Sir Walter demanded before they could turn away.

  “Someplace private,” Philip responded. “An innocent maiden cannot learn to kiss in front of a group of men. And since I have already walked through the area, I can guarantee that ’tis safe.”

  Sir Walter looked like he wanted to object, but all he said was, “Very well. Do not go far.”

  “Just on the other side of this copse here,” Philip said, pointing to the trees behind him.

  “And be quick,” Sir Walter added. “And nothing more than kissing. Brief kissing.”

  Philip put a hand to his chest in mock horror, and Anne struggled not to laugh.

  “Do you think I would take advantage of this situation?” he demanded.

  “I’m never sure what you’re going to do,” Sir Walter said dryly.

  Anne pulled on Philip’s hand. “Please let us just finish this.”

  Philip joined her and moved ahead, leading the way. He held branch
es aside for her and pointed out mud to avoid. He behaved so normally, that by the time they reached a little clearing, where a stream splashed over rocks nearby, Anne was feeling calm, even though she kept looking over her shoulder, as if someone was hiding amongst the trees.

  When he came to a stop and turned to face her, she nodded to him. “You have my gratitude for the rescue. I know I should have just told them I knew how to kiss, but I didn’t want them to know—to think—”

  To her surprise, he put a finger to her lips. The shock of his touch made every word dry up in her mouth.

  “Shh,” he murmured.

  He stood far too close. Their clothing brushed, and her skin seemed to jump with awareness. His warm hands suddenly cupped her face, touching her as if she were the gentlest new flower bud on a stem.

  “Philip?” she whispered, her mouth so dry she had to lick her lips. “What are you doing? We’re going to pretend!”

  “Perhaps you meant to,” he whispered.

  His thumbs traced her lips and she found herself swaying. “We’ve done this too much already!”

  “Then think of me.”

  He kissed her brow, and the faint stubble on his chin teased her nose.

  “I am a young man,” he continued, sounding so reasonable. “I have to appear suitably flustered after having the opportunity to kiss such a beautiful woman as yourself.”

  Her will to remain unaffected was greatly hampered when he kissed the tip of her nose. “But—surely you are talented enough to pretend.”

  His mouth was so close to hers that she felt the warmth of his breath. She knew she could have pushed him away, for he only restrained her lightly with his hands on her face, but…her will was no longer her own. It was ensnared with his, as she remembered the stolen moments they’d shared in dark corners of Castle Alderley, the tender kiss of comfort he’d given just two nights ago. The sun may have been shining, filtering down between the trees, but the size of him blocked out everything beyond his face, his body that she yearned to press closer to. Beneath half-closed lids, his eyes stared into hers with an intensity that banished the last of her very reasonable doubts.

  “I cannot just pretend to kiss you,” he murmured.

  When his lips lightly brushed hers as he spoke, she gave a small, revealing moan.

  “I am not so great an actor as you,” he added.

  With those words, he kissed her. And she kissed him back, soft searching kisses that explored his parted lips. She relived the taste of him, the smell of him, slid her arms about his waist and pressed herself against him, trying desperately to ease the ache in her breasts and loins that she’d only ever experienced with him.

  Into her mouth, he murmured, “Anne,” and a deep part of her was so very grateful. It had been the first time anyone had called her by her own name in days.

  When he deepened the kiss, she could not mount a protest. She wanted the hot invasion of his tongue, the way he explored her mouth as if he might never stop. She felt his hands sweep her back, molding her to him. When she met his tongue with her own, they shared a groan.

  Chapter 8

  P hilip forgot what it was like to be alone, so lost was he in Anne’s embrace. She was warm and soft, and the curves of her body melted into his. He didn’t think about his future or his past, only Anne and how she made him feel as if there were not enough moments under the heavens to go on kissing her.

  He wanted more; his body craved hers with a hunger that seemed foreign to him in its desperation. He let his hands roam down her back, feeling the sweet shape of her, the firm muscle and bone of Anne beneath her garments. He didn’t stop there; his hands drifted lower, until he cupped her ass and pulled her onto her toes, the better to feel her hips cradling his erection.

  Anne gave a gasp, and suddenly the hands that had been pulling him close now pushed against his chest. He let her go immediately, and she stumbled back, staring up at him in dismay.

  But her lips were moist from their kiss, and her black hair, once pulled back and covered by her hood, now escaped in tiny curls. She looked like a woman ready to tumble into bed.

  But she was supposed to be Lady Rosamond, the woman he was guarding. And she was Anne, the woman he’d hurt by dallying with her once before without consequence.

  With a groan, she turned away and started walking.

  “Anne—Lady Rosamond,” he amended when she didn’t turn around.

  She stopped, keeping her back to him.

  “Think of this as another lesson, one you passed. You’re going to be kissed by men whether you like it or not. Lady Rosamond is a widow, accustomed to such things. I thought you enjoyed being her.”

  He heard her sigh, but she only continued to walk.

  “Women,” he muttered, as he followed her back through the trees.

  He adjusted the bottom of his jerkin, glad it hung to his thighs to cover what his woolen breeches probably did not. He still desired her with an ache that was fierce.

  He told himself he wanted his future more—the chance to better himself, to increase the stature of his family. If he could not be a member of the League, he owed his mother that. She’d had dreams for him, dreams he’d taken on himself. He could not let his weakness for Anne interfere with that.

  When he emerged back into the clearing just behind her, every eye turned toward them. The skinned rabbit was sizzling on a spit over a fire while Margaret tended to it. The expression she turned on them was so impassive as to be blank. The knights shuffled with obvious discomfort, but Walter only put his hands on his hips and glared at them.

  “Well?” he demanded. “What did your need for privacy give you?”

  “An ache in the gut,” Philip said, rubbing his stomach.

  Anne turned to face him with a questioning look.

  He spoke quickly to forestall her. “She said I enjoyed myself a bit too much at her expense, so she gave an elbow to remind me of my manners.”

  Walter’s jaw looked clenched, but he finally turned his imposing stare on Anne. “He did not take advantage of you?”

  “Nay, he gave me complete control,” she said firmly. “And I used it when it began to seem he’d forget himself.”

  “Good,” Walter said, not bothering to hide his relief. “Our meal will be ready soon, and then we journey on.”

  “Will we arrive at the home of Lord Egmanton by tonight?” Anne asked.

  Philip wondered darkly if she had the entire list memorized, one lord after another all anxious to please and entertain her.

  Walter shook his head. “We shall stay at an inn tonight on the outskirts of Doncaster. It is too large a town to risk being seen at the best inns.”

  She nodded and sat down beside the fire on a spread cloth next to Margaret.

  The meal was awkward and conversation forced. It wasn’t until they were journeying again that everyone made an attempt to converse normally. Philip knew that they did it by unspoken agreement, to distract Margaret and Anne from the thought of being followed. Joseph reined in his horse to walk beside Anne. Philip, in the rear, rode a little closer to hear what was going on.

  Joseph took a deep breath, as if speaking did not come easily to him. And why should it, Philip thought, when he had a face that, all by itself, made women stare at him?

  “Lady Rosamond,” Joseph said, “there are things you should know about noblemen.”

  Philip, so close behind her, saw her face in profile when she smiled at the knight, and his gut seemed to twist in jealousy. She never smiled at Philip like that anymore, although she kissed him readily enough.

  “And what don’t I know?” she asked merrily. “I have lived with them much of my life.”

  “Noblemen who want to seduce you will do more than kiss you.” Joseph sent a skeptical glance at Philip. “Unless Sir Philip has already mentioned these things.”

  “Nay,” Philip called, “I was too busy trying to remember to breathe from the force of her rejection.”

  He caught David’s grin,
and even Walter wore a faint smile.

  “So what should I know?” Anne asked.

  “A man will naturally want to embrace you,” Joseph continued.

  “The better for you not to get away,” David said over his shoulder.

  When Anne laughed, Philip wondered sourly if she believed that of him.

  Joseph cleared his throat, as if to remind them all that he was serious. “He will make free with his hands on your body.”

  “And I should discourage this,” she said, giving him another smile.

  “Oh, by all means, my lady. A man will be far too encouraged if you do not. And you yourself might become…too involved.”

  Philip noticed that instead of joining in the merriment, Margaret rode slumped in the saddle, looking down rather than taking in the view of the Don River valley. Could a man be the reason she seemed so distant from them all? Did this mission take her away from him?

  Or was she only worrying about the next attack?

  “This cannot only pertain to noblemen,” Anne said. “It would seem to me that every man takes what he can get from women.”

  Philip knew who that barb was aimed at.

  Walter frowned. “Not every man.”

  Philip glanced at him. “Are you saying you should not be included with the rest of us humble men?”

  “I did not say that. But many men treat women with respect.”

  “As you do,” Philip said.

  “I try.”

  “I think this is awkward for you because perhaps you have daughters of Lady Rosamond’s age.”

  Walter only gave him an impassive look. “You may assume what you’d like. But my personal life does not matter here. Lady Rosamond’s does.”

  “It must be difficult to give advice when you can’t reference your own life.” Philip gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, the price of being a member of the League.”