Her Darkest Knight

by Amy Mullen

  "Nay," Isabel said, shaking her head. "I have no secrets that might concern you, milord."

  Lord Beret set his wine down and stared straight at his daughter. "And you?"

  "Nay," Constance replied, not meeting his gaze. "I really am well. You worry for nothing. My only worry is I have disappointed you by turning down your prospects for a husband for me. I am most sorry."

  "Aye, I should have made the contract anyway. I am now insisting you will marry the next man I choose. I have spoken with a few."

  Constance cringed, her cheeks reddening, filling in the paleness with nasty blotches of color. "So you have chosen then?"

  "Not yet. I will soon. Enjoy the rest of your day. I will let you know what I decide. Go."

  The friends spent the day sitting in the garden, among the flowers. Ronan hovered ever near, scowling as usual. Constance did not offer Isabel anything about her troubles, and Isabel kept her conversation with Turstin to herself. For once, it felt like it had when they first met, when neither seemed to have a care in the world.

  ****

  As the sun dipped and the air cooled, Isabel stood and stretched. They had taken a basket to the arches over the water and had eaten outdoors. Though it had sounded like a good idea, the bugs had made eating almost unbearable. Isabel was ready to retire for the night, and Constance had fallen asleep twice as she curled up on the grass. The air was pleasantly moist, but Isabel began to feel constricted and wished to crawl into her bed and for the day to be gone.

  Isabel cleared her throat. The noise jarred Constance awake. She sat up and stared pointedly at Isabel. "Oh, I am so sorry. How long have I been sleeping? I am just so tired."

  "Please go in and sleep," Isabel said. "I shall pack and be up in a moment. I will see you on the morrow."

  "You are too kind," Constance said with a weak smile. She stood and took a few unsteady steps before she righted herself. Then she walked with a clipped pace toward the hall.

  Isabel put the rest of the food back into the basket. Constance had eaten quite a bit, more than Isabel had seen her eat since they had left for Blackstone. Perhaps she had been homesick and unable to admit it. Once everything was packed, Isabel picked up the basket and wandered slowly toward the hall and waved at a few of the people she knew. It was nice to see them again, but they were busy and appeared to have no time to talk.

  After delivering the basket to the kitchen, Isabel went through the nearly empty hall, bid good night to Lord Beret, and went up the steps to the solar. Before she reached the top, she halted mid-step, as hushed voices echoed down the hall. A couple seemed to be arguing. As soon as Isabel recognized Constance’s voice, she pressed herself against the stone wall on the side of the steps and listened.

  "I cannot do it!" Constance said. Her voice sounded more like a hiss than the voice of a lady. "I know she can find another, but she has been so kind. You cannot make me go through with this."

  "You know what is at stake, milady. You and I know. We cannot hide it forever. We cannot waste another day. ‘Tis time to make your move and secure our future."

  Isabel’s eyes bulged in disbelief. She could not tell the voice of the man speaking and did not dare peek around the corner. Constance was indeed mixed up in something, though it was not clear what.

  "I will not."

  "You must. You must. If you do not, all will be lost. He is the best choice out there. He is the only choice."

  "You seem so happy to pass me off to someone else. My heart is breaking."

  "Constance, I do not wish to pass you off, for I love you. But you and I, we cannot be. This is the only way to make sure you are safe. You know why this must be done. In the end, we will still be together, but it shall remain forever our secret."

  "Oh, I love you too. So much!"

  "Shh…" the male voice said. Isabel wanted to burst. Her heart was hammering in her chest so hard she feared they would hear it. Who was Constance talking to? The male voice was speaking so low she could not pinpoint who it was, not that she knew every male within Tenwick, even after a two-year stay. Who loved her, and who did she love? The secrets Constance held were far more serious than Isabel could have ever imagined.

  "Believe in me and know I have this under my control. We will not fail. We cannot fail," the male voice said.

  "But…"

  "There are no buts, my dearest. We will not be separated long, and he will never know."

  Isabel wanted to scream. Who? Who would never know? What was going on? She put her fingers to her lips as she listened again.

  "If you insist. But you must understand I want to see no one harmed."

  "You must trust me."

  Someone in the hall below coughed, and the whispering stopped. Isabel stood where she was, afraid to move. She waited until she heard footsteps below, and she knew she could linger no longer. Mustering a great deal of courage, Isabel took the final steps into the solar and studied the passageways. No one was there. Constance and whomever she had been talking with were gone.

  Isabel tiptoed to her chambers and fell upon her bed. It was an impossible situation. If she asked Constance about what she had heard, the girl would never admit to the conversation. However, if Isabel ignored it, she might miss an opportunity to help her friend. She would have to sleep on it and decide the next day what she should do.

  She got up from the bed as a chambermaid came to help ready her for sleep. Isabel allowed her to assist her as her mind wandered. Surprisingly, it was not Constance who was on her mind but Turstin. Her heart still ached, and she came to the shocking conclusion she had avoided. It was obvious she was in love with him, and she missed him and regretted their angry parting. They would be reunited in marriage soon enough, but even that did little to soothe her battered soul.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Isabel woke to darkness the next morning. Nicholas was due to take her home. It took her a moment to realize where she was. As her eyes adjusted, she recognized Constance standing by her bed, poking her in the shoulder, urging her to rise.

  "What is it?" Isabel asked as she pushed back the coverlets and sat up. "Is there something amiss?"

  "Nay, silly. ‘Tis time to ready to go. Father told me I can go with you. We are taking you back to Blackstone. It took some time, but I talked him into it. He says I am free to go."

  "But Gemma and Nicholas thought it best you come home. I do not know how they will feel if you return. Why are we leaving so early?" Isabel asked as a yawn snuck up on her. Her mind could not keep up this early.

  "I know ‘tis early, but I am ready to go. I did not sleep well. Father is leaving at dawn and wishes to see me off, so we must go now. We spoke at length last eve after you were abed, and he sent a message to Blackstone telling Nicholas he did not need to come because his men would escort us to your home."

  Isabel rubbed her eyes and stared up at the stone ceiling above her. The room was chilly, and all she wanted was a few more minutes of sleep. "Nicholas is not coming? Are you sure?"

  "No message came back, so he must be in agreement. Do not worry, Isabel. My father’s men will see us safely there."

  "But…"

  "He is sending his knights with us," Constance said, interrupting Isabel. "Both William and Don are going, so we will be safe. ‘Tis a short ride, and we will not be alone. Twenty soldiers will come as well."

  Isabel struggled with her devotion to her friend. Constance was getting stranger by the day, and this was probably the strangest request she had yet made. "We would be safe with Nicholas. Why did you do this? ‘Tis only a few more hours. You are not making much sense. You need to tell me the real reason, or I shall not rise and you can go without me. I will wait for Nicholas. He will come for me if you arrive without me."

  Constance plopped onto the edge of Isabel’s bed. "I will tell you the truth. There is someone at Blackstone with whom I am most smitten. Please, do not tell anyone! I cannot bear to be away from him, and I know I have limited time to see him before I am betrothed. I am
most eager to see him again. Because he is so busy, some days I have only seen him properly at Mass. If we leave here at dawn, we will miss Mass, and I may have to wait another day to see him."

  "Are you serious?" Isabel asked. "Is this why you were so upset about leaving Blackstone? Is this a man who might ask for your hand?" Isabel’s mind whirled. If Constance did not have her own odd way of going about things, Isabel might have balked at the plan. This, however, was typical for Constance.

  "I fear father would object to the man," Constance said. Her tone was flat. "He dreams of a prince, but I simply wish to have love. Mayhap he and I can come up with a plan that would convince father to allow us to marry. ‘Tis all I can think of, day and night. He is the reason I kept such odd hours at Blackstone. Oh Isabel, I beg of you to understand."

  Isabel squinted in the limited light toward her friend. "Who? Who is this person? I have not seen you with anyone other than the ever-present Ronan." She thought of the conversation she had overhead. Had someone from Blackstone come here to see Constance?

  "Quiet, you are speaking too loudly. My father does not know this. I am grateful he has agreed to allow me to return to Blackstone, so let us hurry."

  "Answer me," Isabel said. "Who is it?" Her mind whirled. She could think of no one. No one at all. Nicholas had quite a few knights in residence in Blackstone, but she had never seen Constance near any of them. Could it be a soldier? Gemma and Nicholas had sent her away. What would they say when she reappeared?

  "Nay, please, let us hurry. I will tell you all about it as we ride, so long as you promise you will keep my secret."

  "I see."

  "Please?" Constance asked as she stood again.

  "You are sure your father’s knights will escort us? I will not go, otherwise," Isabel said. She no longer cared if anyone thought her a coward, for she would not fall prey to anyone or anything in the woods. If the knights were not going along, she would not go either.

  "Two of them, along with some men-at-arms." Constance’s tone was tight, and her fingers clutched each other.

  "Aye, then, leave me to dress," Isabel said. Her bed was so warm, and she was so tired, but she would force herself awake. Once she knew who this mystery man was, things could go back to normal. The conversation she had overheard came to mind again. What was going on? It was such a mystery, and the only way to unravel it was to go.

  Isabel understood the urgency, though, if what Constance had just told her was true. She had parted with Turstin and missed him already. She longed to catch a glimpse of him anywhere. All she wanted was to be near him, even if she had no desire to speak to him. There was a defined emptiness now, and it felt awful. If Constance was in love, Isabel understood.

  Constance scampered out of the room, humming as she went. Isabel swung her legs down out of bed and stood to stretch. She had brought few personal items, so her bag was packed within minutes. Something within her warned her this was wrong, but Constance seemed so genuine in her eagerness to get back. It was time to go.

  After dressing, Isabel double-checked the dagger she carried with her at all times. Nicholas was not here, nor was Turstin, and she had to rely on Tenwick men to keep her safe. It did not sit well with her. After showing her how to use one, Nicholas had gifted the dagger to her the day before she had left for fostering. He had said she would feel safer with a way to defend herself. The sheath tucked securely into her riding boot. She felt around her ankle with her fingers, feeling the familiar hilt where it was supposed to be. It was not large, but it was something.

  The moon was but a sliver and hung high in the sky when Isabel went outside with Constance. For a moment, confusion set in. What time was it? The early rays of dawn had yet to reach out over the horizon, and the moon cast only faint light upon the landscape around her. The grass was wet with dew, and a chill kissed her cheeks. She did not have much time for reflection, as she was hurried toward the stables.

  Constance was chattering away as Isabel only half listened. Blackstone was not far, but she would have felt much better if they had waited for Nicholas at dawn, as she had been instructed.

  Once mounted, she studied the group around her. There were twenty of Lord Beret’s soldiers, including Ronan, Constance, and a horse with a cart to take her trunk. Rose, Isabel’s horse, stamped her feet, obviously ready to go. Isabel held her breath and then let it out slowly. It was a trick Hesse had taught her when she was younger. This helped her relax.

  Lord Beret did not come out to see them off, as Constance had suggested. Isabel tried to protest but was swept along as the party went through the gates at a fast clip. Her words were drowned out by the commands and commotion around her. She could not pick out William and Don. Where were the knights?

  "Mayhap I am a bit mad, and I have forgotten what they look like," Isabel said aloud, but no one heard her. They continued onto the old overgrown road, which resembled a trail more than anything. The ride west to Blackstone would be quick, but Isabel’s fear mounted, and her fingers shook as she tried to pass a glance back at Constance, who was chattering about how relieved she was to leave home. Isabel held back her tears. She had been duped, and now she was terrified. Even worse, she could no longer trust Constance. Nothing she had said about this trip had been true.

  There were no knights. She had seen William and Don quite a few times, and they were not among the faces around her. These men were all soldiers. There was little light, but she knew they were absent. Fear gripped Isabel at the base of her spine. Constance had lied. Isabel wished to believe that Constance simply had not noticed the promised knights were missing, but her instincts told her otherwise.

  One of the soldiers finally had enough and rudely told Constance to shut her mouth. Though Isabel jumped at the command, she was grateful for the silence. The sun was still not rising, confounding Isabel even more. She was completely disoriented now. It was not near dawn as she had thought. They moved west toward Blackstone, entering heavy woods that blocked out what little light there was. A few of the men had torches, but the meager light did not go far.

  A chill tickled Isabel’s neck. Without thinking, she reached up and pulled her cloak tightly around her slender shoulders. She had dressed warmly, her riding outfit meant for travel rather than style, and she was grateful for her choice. It was near the end of summer, and soon it would be autumn. The nights were already beginning to cool off.

  It was too quiet. Nervously, Isabel tightened her grip on the reins and patted her horse on the neck. Rose was getting old now, but her step was true.

  Isabel twisted to her left and then to her right, studying those with her. Constance rode with her shoulders slumped, a pout on her lips. The men-at-arms were tense, which in turn made Isabel even more uneasy.

  Half of the men rode in front of her and half behind. Constance was near, but she could not see her face without turning around again. The air morphed into a puff of fog with each breath. Isabel’s unease grew. There was nothing she could do at this point but continue. Fighting back the fear, she recounted the times she had been scared over nothing and the times when she thought danger was near when nothing was amiss. She had been cautious and nervous when out of sight of any stronghold since her sister’s ordeals had become real in her life.

  The smart snap of a tree branch in the woods beyond her alerted Isabel to trouble. Her mind clouded with terror as the sounds of horse hooves neared, coming from somewhere beyond the small sphere of light surrounding the traveling party. Rose began to prance as something came crashing through the brush toward them. Behind her, the men started talking in hushed tones.

  "It be the de Vere girl they want. Remember the orders."

  Isabel’s head swung around toward the voice. She was unable to decide if she had heard the voice right or not. Someone wanted her? Before any more thoughts could form, a shout sounded to her right. As if in a trance, she watched as men thundered from the woods, then a riot of torches, snorting horses, and the sounds of clanging metal swords surrounded h
er.

  Panicked and without any direct thought, Isabel followed her instincts. She pulled back on her reins, turning Rose toward the woods to her left. The horse followed her commands instantly and shot through the dense woods without hesitation. Isabel struggled to swing her leg around so she could ride astride, hanging on for her life as the horse crashed through branches and bush alike. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she rode for her life.

  Her breath came in ragged intervals, and she laid low on her horse, trusting Rose to find the way. Isabel’s fingers twisted into the horse’s mane as she hung on. There was little light, as the dawn had still not come. Tears sprung anew as twigs slashed at her arms and legs. Branches rudely slapped at her cheeks and tugged at her cloak and kirtle. It was more annoying and insulting than painful. The hits kept coming as the sounds behind her started to fade. She was moving away from the River Thames and Blackstone, but she had no choice.

  With a racing heart, Isabel urged Rose to run harder as the trees started to thin out. Her horse was moving with incredible speed and kept going with more stamina than Isabel thought possible. Someone was still behind her, but it sounded to her as if it was just one horse. Isabel had no idea how many had come through the woods or what they wanted. All of her worries, nightmares, and insecurities came to a front as her mind cleared a bit, the shock of the moment wearing off. She had feared this would happen to her one day, just as it had happened to Gemma, and now it had become a reality.

  The sounds behind her faded, and she could not believe her luck. She had lost them, somehow, but that meant little. If they wanted her, they would continue to trail her. Isabel moved deeper into the woods as fast as Rose would go. The brush underfoot had cleared, leaving the ground beneath them a soft carpet of moss and brown pine needles. These muffled the sounds of Rose’s hooves hitting the earth. The trees were tall and imposing, thinning out as they went, with no clearing in sight. Above her Isabel could see the dawn was finally coming.