‘Eirwen loves oats,’ he croaked.
Aven was gazing at him, a look of puzzlement in his eyes. Heat flooded William’s face. He was acting the fool. This mission was already meddling with his sanity and he was only a few days in.
Without another word he turned on his heel, still clutching his cloak, and strode back into the sunlight.
* * *
Avva sagged into Eirwen’s steadying bulk. What on God’s earth had just happened to her? That man... He must be a noble from the cut of his clothes, most likely a knight, too, from the many weapons he wore. But he was nothing like Caerden’s normal visitors who were rude and brusque and treated her, and the rest of the castle inhabitants, like dirt.
He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His broad shoulders had nearly filled the stable door and those eyes... They were a deep, rich brown and the moment they had fixed on her, her whole body had leapt into awareness. It was as if there was some invisible force pulling her towards him and she’d had to force herself not to cross the stable floor to go to him. That had certainly never happened to her before.
It was as if his penetrating gaze had seen her, the real her, and not the man she was pretending to be. Almost as if he...desired her, but not in the coarse brutal way other noblemen made their interest in women known, by taking what they wanted and damn the consequences. It was as if he had been tongue-tied by her presence, but that surely couldn’t be the case. She was passing herself off as a man and no one had questioned that from the very first moment she’d done it, just over a year ago now. She could not be enticing, else she would have had attention before. And yet, in that short, fleeting moment his searing gaze made her feel as if she was so. When he’d looked at her through those dark, brown eyes of his, she’d been pinned to the spot, her heart hammering in her throat as if she’d run rings around the castle grounds.
She shook her head. It was no good thinking about someone like him. His clothes had marked him out as nobility and nothing good had ever come from one of them. She was living proof of that. She was the result of a nobleman taking a liking to her mother, only to discard her when he grew bored of her.
She only had to close her eyes for a moment and hundreds of other images came to mind, scenes of drunken debauchery and random cruelty from men of his ilk. Not directed at her—she’d had her brothers to hide her, but she’d seen the aftermath of noblemen visiting Caerden at the invitation of the Baron. She’d seen the women who’d not hidden quickly enough and known that whatever had happened to them during the visit had scarred them in a way that would never heal. Now the townsfolk knew to hide, to make sure their women were not around, to disguise them as hideous or to try to send them away as soon as they came of age. It was a dangerous game with life-altering consequences if you failed. Her decision to live as a man had given her a degree of safety, until now.
Like most women in town, she was ready to flee if things became difficult. She would have to watch and see exactly what this newcomer would do because the last thing she wanted was trouble.
The whole town lived on a knife edge expecting, at any moment, more blows to fall from Caerden and his vicious cohorts. They would want to know about William and his motives for being here. They would ask her questions, knowing she would have dealt with his horse. There was not much she could tell them.
He’d seemed polite, but just because one of them was well mannered, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t turn out just the same as every other nobleman the town had the misfortune to encounter. She certainly wouldn’t tell anyone of her visceral reaction to his dark gaze.
She turned to Eirwen. Now this stallion was a very handsome specimen, a deep chestnut colour, which matched his rider’s eyes. No. She mustn’t think like that. She never thought like that. She couldn’t allow herself to.
Ever since her twin brother, Aven, known to his friends as Ave, had died of an infection fifteen months ago, she’d been living as a man. In a town like this it was safer to assume a male identity than live as an unprotected woman. She and her brother had looked enough alike for her to get away with it and it was not as if anyone in the castle spared her a second glance. Everyone kept their heads down and got on with their own business. It was easier to protect yourself that way.
‘You look like your master takes good care of you,’ she said to Eirwen as she rubbed his long nose. ‘But I’ve never known a trustworthy lord or knight through these doors. He might well have a handsome face, but I’m afraid it’s not enough to tempt me into anything foolish.’
Eirwen snorted and Avva took this as his agreement.
The horse nudged her hand. ‘Sorry, boy. You’re hungry, I bet. Let’s get that saddle off you.’
Avva untied the saddlebags and made to carry them towards the door. As she did so, she caught the scent of the man, a deep woodsy smell, and her heart began to pound. She dropped the bag to the floor, shocked by the strange reaction. What on earth was happening to her? She pushed the bag to the edge of the stable with the tip of her foot and busied herself with seeing to Eirwen’s needs.
When Eirwen’s master next came for him, she would make sure she wasn’t around. She didn’t need any further complications in her life.
Chapter Two
William strode into the keep as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, desperate to get away from that all-encompassing desire. He paused just inside the entrance and inhaled deeply, willing his body back under his control. The attraction for the stable master had been strong and unexpected but that didn’t mean he had to act on it. He was a knight and not just any knight, he was one of the King’s elite guards, a relatively new band of five brothers-in-arms brought together to defend Edward III’s interests. They’d been christened the King’s Knights and he had never been so proud to belong to such a group of men.
His training to become part of the brotherhood had been rigorous, even brutal, and gathering his wits because he’d been attracted to a man should not be so difficult.
He clenched, then released, his fists. He was known among his fellow knights as the one who was always logical and calm. He’d made a decision, early in life, to follow a plan and, much to his friends’ amusement, he’d stuck to it. To be so thrown by one individual was as foolish as it was unusual.
He took a deep breath and straightened, looking around him as he did so. The entrance to the keep was strangely deserted. Only one guard, lounging against a wall, his eyes almost closed as he dozed in the warm, morning air. The thin thread holding on to William’s temper frayed further.
‘The Baron,’ he barked.
The guard sprang to attention at the sound of his voice, blinking slowly. ‘I...’
A growl slipped through William’s lips and the guard paled. There was something seriously wrong with the running of this castle. Where there should be a legion of guards, stopping unannounced visitors, there was only this one imbecile, whose gawping mouth reminded William of a landed fish.
‘Where is he?’
This complete lack of security also did not bode well for the success of William’s mission.
‘He’s not here,’ mumbled the guard eventually.
‘Not here?’ Perhaps that explained the general lack of security, although a good leader would surely double the safeguarding during his absence from home.
‘No.’
William frowned. ‘Where is he?’ There were no reports that Caerden was away from home.
The guard shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’
Where was this man’s deference? It wasn’t William’s job to insist the guard spoke to him with the respect due his station, but the lack of courtesy had him grinding his teeth. ‘Who’s in charge in your liege’s absence?’
‘Master Thomas is the Baron’s steward. He’s in the Great Hall.’
Finally, some definite information, even if it came without the word ‘sir’. William stalked towards the
Great Hall, unsurprised when the guard didn’t try to stop him.
There were not many people inside the hall. A few groups were scattered around the place, but it was easy to identify the steward. At the far end of the room, a large man sprawled on an ornate chair, his wide girth in direct contrast to the almost emaciated townsfolk William had seen on his journey towards the castle. The man was focused on a woman standing to his left, the look on his face leaving William in no doubt as to the direction of his thoughts.
William strode down the length of the room, coming to a stop before the portly man. ‘Master Thomas.’ The steward didn’t look up at William’s salutation. William resisted the urge to pull Thomas to his feet and demand he show proper respect and then, while he was at it, march Thomas down to the settlement that depended on Caerden for its livelihood. William wanted the steward to explain to him why the villeins, who moved as if the weight of the world was resting on their shoulders, were so desperately thin while he was so corpulent. He also wanted to know why the crowds had melted away at the arrival of a stranger.
Instead he stepped closer to the man and deepened his voice. ‘Master Thomas. I am Sir William from the Devereux family and a member of the King’s Knights. I am here on the business of King Edward III and, in the absence of Baron Caerden, I require a word with you.’
The effect of his words on Thomas was astounding. The steward jerked back as if he had been punched, the colour draining from his face. He turned to look at William, his eyes bulging in his florid face.
‘We need to speak privately,’ said William, his voice as hard as steel.
Thomas’s gaze swept over William’s body, no doubt taking in his size and his many weapons and obviously coming to the conclusion that William had not been making a request.
The steward struggled to his feet. ‘Of course, Sir William, it is a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Caerden. We’ll be more comfortable talking in my liege’s private rooms.’ He gestured to a door to the left of the Great Hall. William nodded, but remained where he was. He wasn’t about to let Thomas walk behind him—his instincts were screaming at him that Thomas was not to be trusted. Although William knew Thomas wouldn’t be able to take him in a fair fight, William wasn’t immune to a knife in the back.
Thomas finally seemed to realise William was waiting for him to begin and started shuffling in the direction of the exit as various hangers-on moved silently out of their way.
‘I’m sorry Baron Caerden is not here to welcome you himself,’ wheezed Thomas as they passed through the door. ‘He’s been called to Caernarfon, a castle north of here as I’m sure you know. They’ve been experiencing some troubles with raiders and Caerden’s gone to offer them our support, along with some of our finest men.’ He paused to heave in a deep breath. ‘I’m sure he will be disappointed to have missed you, being as he is such a loyal subject of King Edward.’
William scrubbed a hand over his emerging beard, the skin itching beneath the stubble. He didn’t believe Thomas’s words for a moment, but he couldn’t fathom out why the steward would lie to him about Caerden’s whereabouts. If a castle to the north was experiencing problems with raiders, it would be more logical to increase the guard here, not deplete it. It made no sense at all. Unease shifted in William’s stomach. If Caerden wasn’t here and he wasn’t defending a castle in the north, what was he doing? It couldn’t be good, if his steward was lying to cover up his actions.
The listless townspeople suggested that Caerden was not a man who valued chivalry and fairness. These were the qualities the young King valued above all others. Could this be an indication that Caerden was not loyal to the King or was William’s mind running away with him again, seeing problems where there weren’t any?
Caerden’s private suite was lined with luxurious hangings and soft rugs. A fire burned in the grate, despite the room being empty of occupants, a monumental waste of resources.
Thomas sat, but William preferred to remain standing. He moved over to the window and looked out over the courtyard, his gaze immediately seeking out the stable even while his brain urged him not to. He spied Eirwen, who had been moved into the sun, his burdens removed from his back and a bag of feed within easy reach.
William’s breath caught in his throat as Ave stepped out of the stables, carrying a grooming kit in one hand. Ave tilted his head towards the sun for a moment. The gesture caused his hair to fall backwards, revealing the pale skin of his long, slender neck, and William’s throat went dry. Despite the distance between them, William could imagine running his thumb from the dip at the base of Ave’s throat up until he reached the soft lips.
He tore his gaze away, his heart pounding erratically.
His friend, mentor and fellow King’s Knight, Theo Genville, had personally recommended him for this mission to the King’s Knights leader, Benedictus. William couldn’t let Theo down by becoming distracted by the stable master, not when the safety of the King depended on him. That way, only disaster lay.
He stepped away from the window, firmly keeping his back to it. ‘I’m here to inform you that King Edward III will be visiting this castle in ten days’ time.’
Whatever colour Thomas had regained drained right back out of his face, his gaze darting to the fireplace and back. He wetted his lips. ‘To what do we owe this honour?’
‘You may have heard that the King is making a tour of his kingdom. He is keen to meet all the Barons loyal to him. He wants to thank them for their backing of his defeat of the traitor, Mortimer, and his supporters. Recently, he realised he had left Caerden out of his tour and is keen to make amends for his oversight, but of course it does not give us much time to prepare for the King’s arrival.’
This wasn’t the whole truth, but it was fairly close to it. King Edward was only in the first year of his reign without his mother, Isabella, and her lover acting as regents. He wanted to shore up control of the kingdom and bring peace and order to the country after a tumultuous few years. Edward also wanted to ensure that everyone, from the peasants through to the lords, knew that he demanded their complete loyalty. He would not tolerate dissension or even the slightest hint that anyone wanted Isabella back in charge.
William’s respect and allegiance for His Majesty was infinite and he had sworn to serve, and even die, for the young King, although he was going to make damn sure that didn’t happen. Up until now nothing had ever distracted him and so the way his body was reacting to Ave was especially irksome. Even now, at this critical time, he wasn’t focused entirely on Thomas—part of him was still struggling to keep his thoughts away from the stable master. He had never before had a problem focusing.
‘My role,’ continued William, fighting with himself to keep his gaze away from the window, ‘is to ensure Castle Caerden is ready for the King’s visit.’
‘I see,’ said Thomas weakly.
‘In the Baron’s absence I will have to work with you on the security. We need to ensure this castle is able to withstand surprise attacks.’ It was an unlikely event, but William needed to excite some sort of reaction from Thomas. ‘I trust you have suitable chambers for the King to use during his stay.’
Thomas’s mouth hung open, a dark pit in his rotund face.
William lost the battle with himself. His gaze swung towards the window, unerringly fixing on Ave, who was running a brush along Eirwen’s flank.
He turned back to Thomas, who was watching him closely, no longer gaping at him.
‘Has something caught your attention, Sir William?’
There was something about Thomas’s voice which had the hairs on the back of William’s neck standing to attention.
He met Thomas’s gaze. He would show no weakness in front of this man. ‘I’m merely concerned about the lack of security—even a small attack would meet with little or no resistance.’
Thomas looked away. ‘As I said...’
‘Yes, you did, but
unfortunately the paltry provision displayed here is not going to be sufficient to guard the King after his arrival.’
‘The head of our guards, Barwen Montford, is also away with the Baron. He will be in a much better position than I am to talk you through our security arrangements.’
‘And when will he return?’
‘I am expecting him any day now.’
‘And Caerden?’
‘I... The Baron does not like to be away from home for long. I am sure he will be back soon, too.’ Thomas’s gaze flicked to the left, an almost sure sign he was lying about something, although William couldn’t fathom what it could be. ‘Will the King be bringing many of his own guards?’
William stilled. The look in Thomas’s eyes was strange. He looked almost excited now. William felt as if he was only experiencing half of this conversation—something else was at play, but what? ‘Of course the King will be bringing his own guards, of which there are many.’ It wasn’t his imagination, Thomas’s shoulders did sag at that statement, which was odd. No King would travel without an extensive guard—to do otherwise would be suicide.
William stepped away from the window. Thomas was his sole focus now, all thoughts of Ave pushed to one side as he began to take Thomas to task.
* * *
The afternoon went by incrementally slowly. William was sure that he had aged nearly a hundred years by the time it ended. Thomas threw up obstacles at every turn and, although he professed how much of an honour it was to have a visit from the King, his gaze was shifty whenever he said it. William wished he’d kept James with him now. To have a second opinion on Thomas’s behaviour could have given him an advantage. Now, he wasn’t sure if he felt uneasy because so much was riding on this mission being a success or whether there was something going on that was so potentially worrying that the King’s life could be in danger.
The Knight's Maiden in Disguise Page 2
