by Aston, Alexa
As she combed through the items in another trunk, she said, “I can’t find anything of value. No jewels at all,” she complained.
Resa met her gaze. “They would be Lady Faylinn’s jewels, my lady. Not yours. I’m sure she took them with her.”
Sabelina felt like slapping the insolent woman and refrained from doing so, having spied a cask. Finally, something of value.
“Leave me,” she brusquely told the servant. “I wish to be alone.”
“Very well, my lady.”
Once Resa had vacated the bedchamber, Sabelina pulled the cask from where it rested under the bed. She lifted it and carried it to the solar, resting it on the table and taking a seat, eager to see its contents. Bitter disappointment filled her once she opened the lid. All she found was a huge stack of pages, missives written to Faylinn, all signed by a man named Ashby fitz Waryn, which Sabelina remembered was her stepmother’s brother. She cursed aloud and slammed the lid. She would burn them. She didn’t want any trace of her stepmother left in the solar or anywhere else at Mallowbourne.
Then a thought came to her. Hadn’t Faylinn said she would go to Lord Ashland now that she was widowed?
Curiosity filled her and she opened the lid again, withdrawing the large group of pages and placing them before her. She pushed the cask aside and began reading, starting with the letter on top. After skimming a few, she quickly learned Ashby wasn’t a nickname for Lord Ashland. Instead, he was another brother of Faylinn’s, a knight who lived at Stanbury in Sussex, in service to a Lord Garrett, the Earl of Montayne. Apparently, this Ashby fitz Waryn had fostered at Stanbury and remained there upon achieving his knighthood.
Sabelina found the missives boring. They talked of people she didn’t know and events she had no interest in. Briefly, she’d seen both Lord Ashland and another brother, Ashcroft, mentioned. Neither sibling had been in contact with these brothers in many years.
That gave her pause. If Faylinn had fled, it had been to Sussex and this brother—not Lord Ashland. Would her stepmother have had the audacity to turn up at Stanbury and seek refuge with an earl she’d never met? Or had she truly traveled to Essex as she’d led Sabelina to believe? She continued reading, hoping she would discover some clue that gave her the answer.
Then she reached the last page—and knew exactly where Faylinn had fled.
Sir Ashby fitz Waryn had done something remarkable enough to be awarded his own manor house and estate, by a cardinal, no less. From his description, it was a day’s ride east of Stanbury. That meant the clever Faylinn had deliberately misled Sabelina. She realized Faylinn must have remembered everything that had occurred and that Sabelina wanted her stepmother and her unborn child dead. The baroness had fled to Newbury Manor and the brother she’d remained in close contact with ever since her arrival at Mallowbourne a decade ago, knowing this beloved brother would protect her.
Sabelina cursed again, knowing the soldiers Sir Stephen had sent would arrive at Ashland and find neither Faylinn nor Drake Harcourt. They would have no idea where else to look and return to Mallowbourne. By then, the king might well have sent her bridegroom and it would lead to an impossible situation. Because of that, she would need to act swiftly, especially since the pair had a head start. The only good thing would be they would have ridden more slowly, due to Faylinn’s condition. It would take them much longer to reach Sussex than it would seasoned soldiers to ride there.
Sabelina pondered whether to send one or both of her most recent lovers after them and decided both should go. She left the solar and made her way to the great hall, ordering a servant to go to the training yard and fetch Sir Conrad and Sir Hamond and have them report to her at once in the solar.
A quarter-hour later, a knock sounded at the door and she bade them enter. Both knights had questions in their eyes, wondering why they’d been summoned in the middle of the day. She wondered if either knew about the other’s bedtime adventures with her.
“I need you to leave at once,” she told them. “Lady Faylinn and Sir Drake slipped away from Mallowbourne because of guilt. She is carrying his child.”
Both knights appeared startled by her declaration but asked no questions, waiting for her orders.
“If she has a son, she is going to try and pass it off as my father’s. That means a bastard would become the next Baron of Gaynesford. I cannot see that happen and have written to the king of her adultery. The king will send me a husband and he will be named Baron of Gaynesford. I promised the king I would see Faylinn returned to Mallowbourne so that the new baron can deal with her indiscretion.”
Sabelina had no intentions of her new husband handling the matter. If matters worked as she hoped, Faylinn would be returned by this pair of knights and dead by the time the king’s representative arrived. She wished she could simply have these men dispose of Faylinn but she didn’t think asking them to commit murder was feasible, especially with knowledge that she carried a child.
“Is that where the four soldiers went? To retrieve the baroness?” asked Sir Conrad.
“Yes. She told me she was going to her brother’s estate in Essex. I have since discovered a hidden missive that leads me to believe she has gone to a different brother, Sir Ashby fitz Waryn, in Sussex.”
She explained where Stanbury was, based upon what Ashby had revealed in his letters, and then told them of Newbury Manor’s location.
“Either the men already sent will find her in Essex, which I doubt, or you will discover she’s at Newbury Manor. If you locate her, bring her back to Mallowbourne with all due haste.”
“And what of Sir Drake?” challenged Sir Hamond. “If he is still with her, it will be in the role as her protector.”
“Kill him,” Sabelina said. “He has dishonored my father in a most grievous manner, as well as betrayed his knightly code. He doesn’t deserve to live.”
Both men nodded.
“I am asking you to complete this mission because I have faith in you and your abilities. You will be rewarded generously when you bring back my stepmother. Go now. Speak to no one. I will let Sir Stephen know why you are absent.”
“Yes, my lady,” both knights said, bowing to her.
They left the solar and Sabelina smiled. The pair was capable and would want to prove themselves to her, as well as themselves. Sir Drake Harcourt would be a formidable opponent to go up against, having the reputation as the most talented knight at Mallowbourne. These men would strive to defeat him and have the satisfaction of knowing they were the better, more skilled knights.
Sabelina sat in what had been her father’s favorite chair—and thought of ways to murder Faylinn once she’d arrived at Mallowbourne.
Chapter Seventeen
Drake came to, opening his eyes and relishing the feel of Faylinn snuggled against him. His arm rested against her belly. A wave of protectiveness engulfed him, knowing he guarded not only her but that he was responsible for her unborn child, as well. He lay there for some minutes, breathing in the faint scent of lavender that clung to her. His lips brushed against her hair and a fierce longing pierced him.
It was not to be. He had to accept that whether the babe was boy or girl, Faylinn d’Albert was not his for the taking. Their lives were destined to go in different directions. He must gird himself for that eventual outcome and set aside his growing feelings for her. His responsibility was to take her safely to her brother. Once at Newbury Manor, he would then head straight to the king and make known the true facts and dispel the lies Sabelina d’Albert had written to the monarch.
Drake worried, though, at the time it would take to gain an audience with the king. Being a second-born son and lowly knight with no claim to a title, it could be weeks—even months—before he might be granted an audience with Edward.
That was if he could gain an audience. More than likely, he would be kept waiting far too long, only to be told that he was a man of no importance and the king refused to see him. If that happened, he wasn’t sure what he would do.
&
nbsp; Or how he could protect Faylinn.
He told himself getting Faylinn’s missive into King Edward’s hands was what was important. The king might not grant Drake an audience but he would eventually have to read Faylinn’s note to him and act upon it. Wondering if he could somehow bribe someone at court in order to get her missive to Edward sooner rather than later, he realized he might know someone at court. Or at least, someone his father knew.
Lord Bellweather had been friends with the Earl of Wakeland since they were boys fostering together. Drake remembered shortly before his father’s death that he mentioned Lord Bellweather had taken a position at court, serving on the king’s council. If that was the case, all Drake had to do was get an appointment with Bellweather and plead his—and Faylinn’s—case to the nobleman.
The court changed frequently, though. Edward was known for being mercurial. It had been over three years since Drake knew of Bellweather leaving to advise the king. At least it gave him a bit of hope to cling to. He wouldn’t share this with Faylinn, though. He didn’t want to give her any false hope.
Because of this, he must begin to distance himself from Faylinn. He would remain courteous and thoughtful, as a knight should under any circumstance, but he had to separate himself from her in mind and body. He vowed never to speak to her again of his true feelings and absolutely would never proclaim his love for her.
Drake released his hold on her, feeling bereft, and touched her shoulder gently.
“Faylinn? Wake up.” He rose from the bed, needing to remove himself physically from her.
She stirred and glanced up. “It’s morning?”
He nodded as he strapped on his sword. “I will go downstairs and see to a hearty meal for us, as well as food to take with us on the road. Remain here while I do so. I will return for you shortly. Lock the door and only open it to me.”
Faylinn followed him to the door. He deliberately avoided looking at her, knowing how sheer her chemise was. He opened the door and closed it behind him, waiting to hear the lock slide into place before he ventured downstairs.
Once there, he encountered Bart, the innkeeper.
“My wife and I would like to break our fast with a large meal since we’ll be traveling a great distance today. I’d also request having bread and cheese wrapped so that we may eat from it later today.”
“I’ll arrange it, my lord,” the innkeeper said.
Drake went outside and relieved himself behind the inn and then went to check on Starlight. He informed the stable hand to have the horse saddled half an hour from now and the boy agreed. Drake returned to the inn and their room, knocking briskly and announcing he’d returned. Faylinn admitted him and he saw she wore both the smock and kirtle once more.
“Would you help me with my cotehardie?” she asked shyly, not meeting his eyes.
“Of course.”
He retrieved the garment and helped her slide the snug garment over her head. Memories of the feel of her satin skin caused him to abruptly step away. Temptation whispered in his ear, telling him to touch her. Kiss her. Caress her. Just once more. He fought it and reached for the satchel, slinging it over his shoulder. Looking up, he saw her watching him carefully.
“Our meal has been arranged,” he said and opened the door.
They went downstairs and Bart brought over a tray, setting various dishes in front of them, along with large tankards of cold ale. Drake and Faylinn ate in silence, the only two guests present this early in the morning. When they finished, he went to the innkeeper and handed him coins for their stay. In return, he received two cloths tied with a knot.
“This contains your food,” Bart said. “I wish you and your lady a pleasant journey, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
Drake nodded to Faylinn and she joined him. Together, they left the inn and went to the stables, retrieving Starlight. He secured the satchel and food to the saddle and mounted the horse before capturing Faylinn’s waist and settling her in front of him. He prayed to the Living Christ to give him strength not to succumb to temptation again. It would be difficult, especially with Faylinn riding next to him until they completed their travels.
They had barely ridden half an hour when he saw an obstacle in the road ahead.
“Not again,” he murmured, seeing a large tree trunk lying across a bulk of the path. Beside it were two familiar men.
Faylinn turned her head and studied the road before them as they approached. “It looks as if the same two beggars have chosen a new way to stop travelers.”
“I’ll not pay them again,” he proclaimed.
They reached the blocked portion of the road and he shouted, “We’ve paid your toll before. I refuse to do so again.”
With that, Drake rode into the forest that ran alongside the road and continued through it for several minutes before emerging from the woods and following the road once more. It troubled him to encounter the same two men on consecutive days. He would put enough distance between them to ensure they never met the duo again.
Unfortunately, Starlight threw a shoe shortly afterward and they had to walk the horse to the next village. Drake insisted Faylinn stay atop the mount as he guided them along the path. They found the local blacksmith had gone to the estate of a nearby baron. He wouldn’t return for a few hours. Drake wished he knew enough to create a shoe for Starlight and attach it but it wasn’t a skill he’d ever learned.
“Don’t fret, Sir Michael,” Faylinn told him and then turned to the smithy’s wife. “May we leave our horse here for your husband to shoe when he returns?”
The woman nodded eagerly. “Of course, my lady. Would you care to come inside and wait?”
“We may after a while,” Faylinn told the woman. “I think we’ll pass some of the time by strolling through the village.”
Drake escorted her down the main thoroughfare and they noted the mill and tavern. A few open stalls had craftsmen at work—a cooper making barrels, two women weaving, and a carpenter crafting a table. They walked behind the mill and alongside the river for an hour, soaking up the sunshine of the pleasant April day. It amazed him how easy their conversation flowed and he thought he would never run out of things to discuss with Faylinn.
“I’m feeling a bit parched after all of this walking,” he told her. “Would you care to go to the tavern for something to drink?”
Her eyes twinkled at him. “I was about to suggest the same thing.”
They returned the way they’d come and entered the tavern. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkened space because the day had been so full of sunlight. He led Faylinn to a table and a serving wench came to greet them.
“What might I get for you, my lord?” she asked.
“Definitely cold ale for us both,” he replied. He looked to Faylinn. “Anything else?”
She thought a moment and then asked the wench, “Do you have anything sweet? I’m craving something I don’t normally eat.”
The woman grinned. “We have a pudding with dried figs and apples that might be to your liking.”
“Yes. That sound delicious.”
Soon, they had huge tankards of ale before them, along with bowls of the pudding. Faylinn sighed as she took the first bite and took her time with the pudding, making it last. Drake deliberately ate only a few bites. When she finished, he pushed his toward her.
“You may have the rest of mine,” he told her.
Her eyes lit up. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
She placed her hand over his briefly. “You are most thoughtful, Sir Michael.”
“Anything to please you, Lady Mary.”
They left the tavern and returned to the blacksmith’s residence. The workman had just returned and Drake introduced them and told him what Starlight needed.
“I can handle that in no time, my lord. Sorry you had to wait.”
“We didn’t mind,” Faylinn told the smithy. “It was a pleasant time.”
Within minutes, the blacksm
ith had their horse shod and they paid the man, starting up once more. It pleased Drake that they didn’t see the two beggars again before they stopped for the night, especially since they hadn’t traveled nearly as far as he would have liked. He had them go into the woods, as usual, far away from the road and other travelers. Since they’d eaten so well earlier in the day, each only needed a little of the bread and cheese which the innkeeper had provided them.
It came time for them to bed down for the night. The warm spring day had turned cold once night fell and Faylinn lingered by the fire, holding her hands to it.
“Must you douse the fire tonight?” she asked. “Surely, the soldiers from Mallowbourne are far from us.”
He was reluctant to keep the fire going, thinking of the two men they’d come upon twice now. He had a bad feeling about the pair, thinking they were trouble, but he gave in to her request. She scooted as close to the fire as she could and thanked him before draping her cloak over her and closing her eyes. Drake gazed at her for a long moment, drinking her in, then went to the other side of the fire.
He remained awake, lying on his side so he could watch Faylinn as she slept. After a long time, the forest remained silent except for an owl’s soft hoot. Finally, he closed his eyes and slept.
*
Faylinn awoke with a pressing need to empty her bladder. She admonished herself for not having done so before falling asleep. She’d been so weary, though, and her belly full from all they’d eaten during the day. She lay there a few more minutes and knew she could no longer delay the inevitable.
She glanced toward Drake and saw him fast asleep. The firelight cast shadows over the planes of his handsome face and she took a moment to merely look upon him. It was impossible to study him when he was awake. She only wished she could reach out and caress his cheek. Knowing she couldn’t, she decided to answer nature’s call and rose quietly, hoping she wouldn’t disturb his rest.
