‘Those sisters of mine are going to grow up wild. I’m going to need substantial dowries to get them off my hands.’ Hell knew, his parents wouldn’t be able to provide them. At the current rate, William was on course to inherit a barony that was so far past the brink of ruin it would be impossible to pull back unless, of course, he married into a wealthy family, hence the petition to the King for an heiress.
‘It must be nice to have parents who like each other,’ said Ave, breaking into his thoughts.
‘I take it yours didn’t.’
Ave smiled sadly and William moved his hands to under the table to prevent himself from reaching out and offering comfort.
‘Do you have any brothers and sisters?’ He shouldn’t be asking these questions. He should be concentrating on Baron Caerden and the mysterious disappearance of the missing guards, but he couldn’t stop himself from finding out more about Ave. He could no longer lie to himself that this line of questioning was about the mission either. This was all about Ave and the mysterious hold the lad had over him. He wanted to know everything about him.
‘I have two younger brothers remaining.’
‘Remaining?’
‘Like most people, I have siblings who did not live very long after birth.’ Ave inhaled deeply. ‘I also had a twin...sister, Avva, who died about a year ago.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. It must be difficult to get over a loss like that.’
This time he didn’t stop himself reaching out and covering Ave’s slender hand with his. He squeezed gently and was rewarded by the soft stroke of a thumb across his wrist. The small movement caused a wave of sensation to race up his arm. He moved his hand away before he could be tempted to hold on for longer.
‘It was difficult. It still is, but my younger brothers rely on me.’
‘Do they live with you?’
Another sad smile crossed Ave’s lips. ‘No. I sleep above the stables and there’s only room for one person up there. I’ve managed to find them room and board at the smithy’s. They’re working as apprentices, but I still have to pay for their upkeep.’
William nodded and listened as Ave spoke about his younger brothers. They obviously meant a lot to Ave, whose eyes shone as he spoke about the two boys.
* * *
By the time William handed Ave his third drink Ave’s shoulders had relaxed and his blue eyes were less guarded. William had even managed to coax another couple of smiles from the lad with tales of his eccentric parents. When Ave lifted his tankard and missed his mouth William suspected that drinking ale wasn’t something he did often.
William wasn’t going to buy him a fourth one otherwise tomorrow would not be pleasant for Ave. As it was Ave kept slipping from English into Welsh. William had to fight to keep the smile from his face when Ave frowned because his sentence came out so muddled, even he couldn’t understand it. But then Ave said something that had William sitting bolt upright.
‘Pan fy mrawd wedi marw...’
William lost the rest of the Ave’s sentence. It had been a while since he had learned Welsh. It was a complicated language, nothing like English or French, but he was fluent, something he’d not mentioned to Ave. Could he have misunderstood or had Ave just talked about his twin brother dying? Earlier Ave had mentioned a twin sister and getting the sex wrong wasn’t a mistake Ave was likely to make, even with the complexities of mutations in the Welsh language.
‘I’m sorry. What did you just say?’ The answer meant a great deal to William. It might mean that his instincts that Ave was a woman were correct after all.
Ave blinked owlishly at him. ‘Did I speak Welsh again?’
William nodded.
‘Sorry. I was talking about when my sister died.’
If William hadn’t been focusing all his attention on Ave, he wouldn’t have noticed the tiny hesitation before the word sister.
‘Ah, yes. You mentioned he had an infection.’ William held his breath, waiting to be contradicted.
Ave nodded. ‘Yes, it was so sudden. He had a wound that got infected. He...’ Ave shook his head. ‘She was gone within a few days.’ Ave peered into his tankard, William couldn’t see, but he would bet there were no more than a few dregs left. His own tankard was almost untouched. ‘I’d better go.’ Ave stood, wobbling a little. William reached out and grabbed hold of Ave’s tiny waist, his suspicions solidifying by the moment. ‘I’m fine,’ said Ave.
William couldn’t help but smile, despite the doubts swirling through him. Ave was going to have a sore head tomorrow, but for now the owlish blinking was adorable.
‘Thank you for keeping me company, Ave.’
Ave glanced down at William’s hand, the hand which William still hadn’t taken away. ‘You can let go now. I won’t fall.’
William released his grip and stood. ‘I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.’
Ave only nodded, before turning and stumbling out of the tavern.
William waited until he had given Ave enough time to start on his journey before getting up to follow. Yes, it was underhand to go after him without his knowledge, especially as they had spent a friendly evening getting to know one another, but William wanted to know what was going on and he had a suspicion Ave was not going to tell him. He needed to see for himself because he was now nearly completely sure that Ave was, in fact, a woman.
Chapter Three
Avva stumbled along a rutted path, careful to stay in the shadows and away from the main castle thoroughfare. There weren’t many people out on the road tonight, William’s arrival had put paid to that—the men would be busy hiding their women or else making sure they themselves were as inconspicuous as possible. Nobody wanted to get caught up in Caerden’s games. For the townsfolk these games were at best painful or, at worst, fatal.
She’d meant to visit her younger brothers this evening as it had been a couple of days since she’d seen them, but the sun had long since set and she wasn’t as steady on her feet as she’d like. They’d also wonder why she was turning up so late. She’d have to give a reason and she didn’t want to lie to them. She couldn’t tell them how she had spent her evening either.
They’d probably find out soon anyway, the town was notorious for gossip, and the fact that the stable master had spent time with a man such as William would shock the whole community. Her heart twisted. Had she made herself even more vulnerable? Her whole purpose in life was getting through each day without drawing any attention to herself. Tonight, she might as well have run through the town naked, shouting her real name. Yet somehow Sir William had managed to get under her defences in a very short time, talking to her as if they were old friends. How was that even possible?
Strangers were regarded with deep suspicion by the Caerden townsfolk. Noblemen, in particular, were known to be completely untrustworthy, something she knew from painful experiences. If she told David and Dylan how she had spent her evening laughing and talking with such a man, her brothers would question why she had put herself at such a risk. She was questioning it herself.
It was as if Sir William had held some sort of compulsion over her. She’d been unable to leave, no matter how many times her head had told her to stand and walk out of the tavern. Instead, she’d listened to him talk, the warmth of his voice flowing through her like honey.
She shook her head. She was being foolish. The evening air was beginning to clear her head, but she still wished she had not imbibed so much ale. She’d barely eaten all day and it was the beer that was having such a strange impact on her thoughts. It had nothing to do with the knight, whose company she had reluctantly enjoyed.
Thank goodness William... No, she mustn’t think of him like that, he was not her friend, nor would he ever be. Thank goodness Sir William didn’t speak Welsh. She’d tripped herself up several times, referring to herself as female when speaking in Welsh and to her dead twin brother. She was a fool. She shud
dered when she imagined Caerden’s reaction if he found out she had been talking to a knight who was very interested in the goings-on in the town and the castle. If she was lucky, he would kill her outright. If not, then she faced the dungeon. Her legs weakened at the thought. She must be more careful from now on. There could be no more ale or long, convoluted conversations with Sir William, no matter how good his attention made her feel.
She was not only a fool but also a drunken one.
For a whole year it had been easy to assume the identity of Aven, her twin brother. Aven and she had been almost inseparable, he’d been her closest companion for so long, sometimes he’d been her only one. For her, becoming Aven after his death hadn’t just been a good disguise, it had also made his passing easier, as if he were still around to laugh and talk with.
David and Dylan understood the need to keep her sex hidden. This town was dangerous for unprotected women and, even though they were young, they’d seen enough of the goings on in the town to know what could happen to her. Without a father or a husband to keep her safe, Avva was an obvious target. Even women with such males in their lives had fallen victim to the more sinister forces in Caerden.
Assuming Aven’s identity had given her the same level of protection as a man. Granted, being male could still lead to all sorts of other problems under Caerden’s regime, but it ruled out the worst of them. It also gave her the job she loved and funds to support her brothers’ apprenticeships.
Avva was the only family her brothers had left. They needed her and, she hoped, they loved her enough to keep her true identity a secret. They never referred to her as a woman any more and sometimes she wondered whether they had forgotten it was Aven who had died and not her. Sometimes that was the way it felt to her, too.
Nobody, other than her brothers, looked closely at her. She had no friends, nobody that she spoke to much at the castle either. Everybody kept their heads down and worked hard, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to their business. Avva was content that way. If nobody looked at her, then nobody would notice she wasn’t developing a beard or that her voice hadn’t dropped yet. She probably had a year left of living as if she were Aven, two at the most. She would be twenty-one then and the fact that she didn’t have a beard would be apparent. But that was all the time she needed. By then Dylan and David would hopefully have completed their apprenticeships. They would have less need of her. She could move to another township and begin living as a woman again. She didn’t think about the future much. Life was about getting safely from one day to the next.
She stumbled over a root, before righting herself. She had definitely had more ale than advisable. An evening with William Devereux was not safe. She should have taken him to the inn and left him as soon as he’d secured a room with Dai Bach. She still could not understand why she hadn’t done that. There was something about the way his gaze caught and held hers which felt as if he was seeing straight to her heart, as if he knew her soul and he liked what he saw. As if he wanted to be her friend. She’d never had one before, not outside her family. If the situation was different, if he wasn’t a knight, then maybe they could have been. But it wasn’t to be and there was no reason for her to feel so sad about the fact. He would be gone soon and she would never see him again.
This evening, drinking ale with William, was the longest she’d spent with someone outside her family for a very long time, if ever. She and Aven had been close. They’d had to be. They had no one else. Their mother had been ashamed by their very existence. Their stepfather had alternated between disgust and indifference. Their younger brothers had idolised them, but had been too young to provide much in the way of friendship. She knew they loved her, but they were also her responsibility.
She’d tried to tell herself she was drinking ale with him to find out what a knight was doing in Caerden. If there was trouble afoot, then it would be to her advantage to find out about it before it hit the town. That way she could plan how to keep her brothers safe. If Caerden was planning another one of his famous hunting parties, she would do everything in her power to make sure her brothers were not involved. It was how she had lost Aven after all.
She’d told herself that spending time with William could prepare her for any eventuality, but she knew that she was lying to herself.
William’s eyes, which were so penetrating, were also a deep, rich brown. Throughout the evening she’d found herself almost mesmerised by them, often unable to pull her own gaze away. She’d wanted to lean against his broad chest and to feel his strong arms around her, as if he could take away all her responsibilities and keep her safe. These strange and unusual desires went against everything she held dear.
He was a nobleman, an elite one at that. He represented everything that she despised: nobility, authority and wealth. His eyes should mean nothing to her. She should be immune to such physical beauty. Baron Caerden was not an ugly man, yet his soul was diseased, as were all of those who surrounded him.
Besides, her evening with William had been a failure. She hadn’t learned anything about his reasons for being in town and had nearly given herself away on several occasions. Her heart contracted painfully as she remembered what she had said to him in Welsh. She would do well to steer clear of William from now on.
She heaved a sigh of relief as the castle gates came into view. The journey from the town to the castle seemed far longer than normal with the ale making her movements drag.
The castle grounds were all but deserted. The guards, who should have been on duty, were no doubt taking advantage of the Baron’s absence and were not around. She was rarely stopped anyway; they were used to her coming and going.
She couldn’t decide if the guards did it to irritate her or whether they were dim enough not to recognise her every single time. Probably it was the former. Men, she had come to realise at an early age, liked to assert whatever little power they had. Her stepfather had certainly been one of those. He’d lorded himself over her mother, despite the fact he was only a merchant and a fairly lowly one at that.
A small voice inside her head reminded her that William hadn’t seemed that way.
This evening he had been nothing but courteous and attentive, displaying all the manners of a true knight. She squashed that errant thought ruthlessly down. She hardly knew the man—he would surely show that unattractive trait soon enough.
The night air was warm and the thought of climbing up to her tiny loft was very unappealing.
She spied a barrel of water she’d collected earlier. She was glad she’d done so; it would save her from hauling it up in the morning when she was bound to have a woolly head.
Right now, shimmering in the moonlight, water had never looked so inviting. She skimmed the surface with her fingers and then splashed some on her face, the cool droplets so refreshing against her heated skin. She tugged off her cloak and dropped it to the floor. She loosened her tunic and quickly pulled it off.
She was in dangerous territory now. She wasn’t an overly curvy woman—hard work and not much food helped with that. Her tunic, tightly bound, did a good job of hiding what assets she had, but if anyone was looking closely now they might be able to spot she was not the man she was pretending to be.
She glanced around, but the courtyard was still and quiet.
Not wanting to fully expose herself to the night air, she splashed some water on to her hands and dipped her fingers under the edge of her neckline. It wasn’t as satisfying as a proper wash but it was enjoyable nonetheless.
Feeling cooler and refreshed, she picked up her cloak and tunic and made her way into the stables.
She didn’t look back.
If she had, she might have seen a figure peel itself away from the shadows and head back down towards the tavern.
Chapter Four
Dawn was still a little way off as William stepped into the forest on the edge of the Caerden settlement. He hadn’t go
ne five paces before a faint coughing drew his attention. To his left James was leaning against the trunk of a large tree, his arms crossed over his chest.
‘Can’t you hear that, Sir William? That’s the sound of an owl. It’s still night.’
William grinned at James’s grumbling. ‘You do seem to want to spend an awful lot of time sleeping, James. Are you sure you even want to be a knight? Not sleeping is part of what makes a warrior great. Perhaps you would be better suited as a lazy nobleman, whose every whim is indulged.’
‘If that will keep me from sleeping on a forest floor, then that would suit me.’
William laughed and moved to the small campfire James had made for himself. Despite the man’s words he could see that James had been awake a while. His bags were packed and his horse saddled: good.
‘What are your observations?’ he asked, crouching down and stretching his fingers out to the glowing embers.
‘Aside from the fact that the townsfolk are seriously underfed and lacking in decent clothing and housing, there is something deeply suspicious going on.’
William nodded. ‘I agree, but tell me what have you observed which makes you think this?’
‘There are messengers coming and going frequently. While this isn’t suspicious on its own, what with the Baron being away, the messengers are not coming to the front gate, but going around the side of the castle.’
‘That is unusual but not a crime. Go on.’
‘I bribed a merchant.’
William rolled his eyes. He did not trust merchants to be truthful in their dealings, especially when money was involved. ‘What did he have to say?’
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