The Knight's Maiden in Disguise

by Ella Matthews

  Ice dripped through her veins at the thought. There was no innocent reason for having the injured knight in her quarters, no way could she explain his presence.

  ‘May I ask you something?’

  Avva jumped at the sound of William’s voice rasping through the silence. She’d been so wrapped up in her worries, she’d been convinced he was asleep.

  ‘You may.’

  ‘How is it that no one notices you’re a woman?’

  Avva’s heart constricted painfully. ‘What?’

  William groaned. ‘Do you have any water? I’m very thirsty.’

  Avva handed him a water skin, her heart pounding. ‘That’s not what you said.’

  She heard him take a long sip of water. ‘I know it wasn’t, just as I know you don’t need me to repeat my words.’

  ‘How did...?’

  William shifted slightly, the floorboards creaking under his weight. ‘It’s obvious.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. Nobody’s suspected for nearly a year.’

  William made a sound between a laugh and a grunt. ‘I can believe Thomas and his ilk not noticing, but anyone who looks at you, your curves, that long, creamy neck—trust me, there is nothing manly about you.’

  Avva crossed her hands over her chest and stared into the darkness. She’d been mistaken for a man before Aven’s death. It was absurd to suggest she looked womanly. She might not have a beard, but she was tall and broad shouldered. She was strong and controlled the horses well. She might not look like Dai Bach, who was a walking, hairy mountain, but she could easily pass for a young man. She’d been doing so daily, so how dare William suggest otherwise. ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You only know because...because...’ Heat flooded her face as she remembered what had passed between them earlier. The way he’d held her tightly against his body as his lips had moved over hers. Perhaps he had worked it out then.

  This time there was no mistaking his laugh. ‘Aye, I could feel your curves against me earlier. There’s no point denying you’re a lass, but I knew before that. There is nothing manly about you at all.’

  Avva doubled over as if she’d been punched.

  ‘I can see you’re offended, but you shouldn’t be. You’re beautiful.’ William had rolled over on to his side and was squinting at her through the darkness. The position didn’t look comfortable and a small part of her was glad. ‘Perhaps you are right and it is not obvious to everyone else. I’ve been trained to notice things.’ He smiled at her and her heart flipped, despite her anger at some of his words—she’d never been called beautiful before.

  She turned away from him. He had no right to come in here with his deductions and his smile that did strange things to her insides. No right at all.

  ‘Have you always lived as a male?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Tell me, Ave.’

  ‘Tell you what?’ She wanted to walk away from this conversation, to ignore everything he was asking her. If he had noticed she was a woman, did everyone know? Her stomach roiled. Did the Baron know she was his half-sister and not half-brother? She shook her head—he couldn’t know because he would have done or said something. Anger rolled through her. William was making her doubt herself and she’d never had cause before.

  ‘Who is Aven?’

  Avva rested her head on her knees. She should end this conversation and get away from the man who was confusing her so much. She didn’t want to tell this story and yet...she hadn’t spoken about Aven in so long, the words were bubbling inside her just waiting to escape. ‘Aven was my twin brother. He died last year.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ William was looking at her, and, although she couldn’t make out his expression, his tone was so kind it made tears come to her eyes. In the days after Aven’s death, she’d had no one to talk to. Her younger brothers had been too worried about their own future to really comprehend her grief. After the three of them had come up with the plan for Avva to take over Aven’s life, her brothers had treated her as if she truly was a man, with a man’s stoicism. There had been no time for crying.

  ‘What was he like?’ William asked softly.

  Avva didn’t want to talk to William—it was better that he didn’t know her secrets—but the words just spilled out of her. ‘He was always laughing. Our upbringing was grim, but he sheltered me from the worst of it and when we were at our lowest, he would find the humour in our situation. Even when he knew he was dying he would try to make me laugh. I used to pretend to keep him happy.’

  ‘It sounds as if you were lucky to have him in your life. Did he work at the stables?’

  She found herself nodding. ‘Yes, he started here as an apprentice, but he worked his way up to stable master very quickly. He was good with horses, but I...’ It felt disloyal to say she was better with the animals, but it was true. She had always had a natural affinity with horses. Whenever he’d had a problem, Aven had sneaked Avva in and she’d been able to deal with it. It was why he had progressed through the ranks so quickly, that and the fact that hardly anyone else wanted to work so closely with Caerden and his men.

  ‘It’s obvious you have a gift,’ said William softly.

  Avva felt her cheeks warm at the compliment. She shrugged. ‘I love horses. Aven was grateful for the work, but he didn’t care for them the way I do.’

  ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He...there was...’ She took a deep shuddery breath. ‘The people who run this place are casual about those who work for them.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Avva toyed with the edge of her tunic. She had gone so far now. There was no need for her to hold back, but the memories were so painful. ‘Caerden and Barwen wanted some sport one day.’ She swallowed. She was not sure she could make it through this conversation. ‘They involved Aven. They...he...’ She took a deep breath. ‘He got hurt. Not badly, he could have recovered, but an infection took hold in one of his cuts. I don’t think he had eaten much, I think he was giving his rations to me and our younger brothers. Perhaps, if he hadn’t, he would still be with us. I don’t know. He died quite quickly, but not quickly enough that he didn’t know what was happening to him.’

  She buried her face against her knees as memories from that terrible week assailed her. Aven lying on a pallet, his pale skin beaded with sweat, knowing that he was going to die, but pretending he wasn’t frightened. It had broken her heart to hear the worry in his voice as he spoke about her future. It had been his idea for her to assume his identity—he had wanted her protected from the evil that ran through this town. Their younger brothers had readily agreed with the plan. It was better for them if they had an older brother looking out for them rather than a sister they had to protect.

  ‘Tell me about the games Caerden and his men play.’

  Avva lifted her head. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the stables and she could tell that William was looking directly at her. What had she done? Once again, she’d been drawn in by the man, telling him things she had normally kept hidden. She had nothing left to hide and only William’s honour to protect her. She did not want to be pulled any further into this nightmare. She didn’t want to explain Caerden and his evil games. She wanted to protect the life she had built up for her and her remaining brothers. Why was she trusting him, when she had no evidence, other than his politeness, that he was any better than any of the other nobility who had let her and her family down in the past?

  Avva pushed herself to her feet, the roof of the ceiling stopping her from reaching her full height. ‘I’ll leave you to get some rest. I’m sure you’ll be strong enough to leave in the morning.’

  She didn’t wait to hear his response. She shuffled over to the edge and, not bothering with the ladder, jumped to the ground, ignoring the pain in her knees as she hit the floor.

  Sir William might have better manners
than the nobles who frequented Caerden, but she was being foolish confiding her secrets.

  The sooner he was gone from her life the better.

  Chapter Nine

  Everything ached.

  William ran his tongue over his lips, but his mouth was so dry it had little effect. His throat burned as if a red-hot poker had been shoved down it. He cracked open his eyes and promptly shut them again as the light seared his vision. He reached out a hand and felt around. He appeared to be lying on a bed of straw, but it was difficult to remember how he had got there.

  William remembered the fight and the bone-chilling terror of the men turning their attention on Ave. Ave, who would have been much further down the hill and away from the ambush if William hadn’t tried to talk to her. He’d had to get the men away from her. If anything had happened to her, then it would have been his fault. He knew that he had succeeded in that. He also remembered the cold of the river as it rushed over him and the heaviness of the water as it had dragged him down into its depths.

  The rest of the evening came to him in flashes of broken memory. Ave’s hands beneath his shoulders, dragging him to the bank of the river and the rocking of a cart as it travelled over a rough path jolting his already painful ribs. And the feather-light touch of Ave’s fingertips across his brow.

  She had taken him to her loft, installing him above the stables. His heart contracted with a strange emotion. She’d put herself in unspeakable danger by helping him and yet she’d done it without him asking. She could have just let him drown. By helping him, she’d put herself in danger.

  William rolled on to his side, biting his lips as pain burned through him. He prodded his ribs gently, the pain intensifying under his touch. Some were definitely cracked, but he was hopeful that they weren’t broken. He’d be better in a day or two, if he didn’t overexert himself. The problem was...he’d received that beating for a reason. Someone wanted him out of the way and that meant he couldn’t just lie here and recuperate. There was work to be done.

  He pulled himself up into a sitting position, his muscles protesting vigorously. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, forcing them to open fully. He must have slept through the night as daylight was filtering through from the stable below.

  He could hear the faint shuffle of feet moving about in the stalls. He hoped it was Ave and not someone else. He had to assume that it was only her who was on his side in this strange town—everyone else was to be treated as if they were out to kill him.

  Ave had helped him so far, but would she be willing to continue to do so? He hadn’t given her much motivation to want to carry on.

  He dropped his head into his hands and groaned softly as more memories from last night assailed him. He’d asked her so many intrusive questions. The way she had rushed out of the loft told him she hadn’t welcomed the turn in conversation.

  There was no question that Ave had saved his life. He’d repaid her by mocking her ability to appear as a man. It was true that to him she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but he hadn’t got that across. Instead he’d subjected her to a detailed questioning, raking over her past which had seemed painful to her.

  Now, if he wanted to stay in the safety of her loft, he needed to convince her he wasn’t a complete ass.

  There couldn’t be any more kissing either. As much as his body craved it, he had to use his head. He was in dangerous territory and he needed his wits about him to survive. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted. It was exactly this sort of foolish emotion that had led his father and the barony into so much trouble. He was better than that, he had spent his whole life believing it and he wasn’t about to be proved wrong at this critical moment.

  Kissing Ave was delicious but wrong.

  Ave deserved so much better than what he could offer her, which was essentially a passionate but ultimately dissatisfying encounter. She was beautiful and strong-willed, quick-witted and brave. She deserved someone who could take care of her for her whole life, not just a few stolen moments. He couldn’t be the man who offered her a marriage based on love—he didn’t want a union based on such an intense emotion. Love drove logic out of everyone’s minds. He had enough honour not to be the man who offered her nothing but momentary pleasure.

  He swallowed—he shouldn’t lie to himself, he did want to be the man that gave her physical pleasure, more than he’d ever wanted anything. To touch her skin with his would be... He shook his head, laughing at himself. The movement involved in merely lying next to her would be beyond painful given the current state of his body. He could barely sit up without wanting to howl in pain, let alone engage in any other physical activity.

  Not to mention how morally wrong kissing her would be.

  After long years of training, he had finally reached an enviable position. He might be the newest recruit to the King’s Knights, but he was damned good at what he did—at least he was normally.

  As a child, he’d watched helplessly as his parents had squandered the wealth of their barony. Their shared grief over losing their children had caused them to be unwise in their spending. William was so close to being able to restore that wasted wealth, to being able to offer his younger sisters a dowry, that he mustn’t throw this opportunity away.

  As well as the necessary dowries, William had extensive plans for land management, but before that he needed quick access to wealth. The petition for marriage to a wealthy heiress was a practical decision. He didn’t care who it was, he’d seen enough of his parents’ foolishness to know love was not for him. He hoped for companionship, he would be a faithful, kind husband, but as long as his wife brought with her the resources to restore the Devereux fortunes, then he would be content.

  Ave was a complication he did not need, yet his body did not seem to be listening. He had never craved anyone in the way he wanted Ave. Even now, with his body screaming in pain, part of him still wanted to touch her lips again. Hell, it wasn’t part of him, it was most of him, the thought so appealing it banished the racking pain throughout his body and made it tighten with desire. Ave was like the finest wine on the hottest day. Now he’d kissed her once, he knew what he was missing.

  But Ave didn’t strike him as someone who gave away kisses freely and, with marriage into a wealthy family on his mind, he wasn’t in a position to offer her anything other than a few nights of bliss. He wouldn’t regret it, but she might and he didn’t want to leave her feeling badly about him, especially when she had done so much for him.

  Footsteps sounding on the ground below brought him back to the present. He strained to listen as the gentle murmur of voices reached him.

  Ave laughed and William’s body tightened, even as he felt the sting of jealousy. What was happening to him? Even after the talking-to he’d just given himself, he still longed to be the one to make her smile.

  He was a fool who wasn’t listening to his own advice. The sooner he could get out of here and away from Ave, the better.

  The mumble of voices continued and then came the sound of someone leaving. The ladder creaked and William froze. The thugs who’d attacked him last night had stripped him of his sword and some of his favourite weapons, but he still had his dagger and could inflict damage if necessary. He reached over to his discarded clothes.

  Ave’s dark hair appeared over the ledge, followed by the rest of her. William scowled as his heart began to pound. What a ridiculous reaction—it seemed his body hadn’t listened to his lecture at all.

  ‘There’s no need to look so fierce. I’m only here to bring you some bread and to check you are awake. You have slept for most of the day.’

  ‘Most of the day!’ Dear God, he had wasted so much time. It was only seven days until the King was due to arrive at the castle. Hidden up here in the loft, he wouldn’t be able to receive any messages from James, even if his squire had sent one. He was in no position to climb down from the loft right now. He was as
weak as a kitten.

  ‘You look as if you are about to go on a killing rampage.’

  William tried to relax his features, but he obviously wasn’t having much success because Ave’s gaze was very wary. She pulled herself into the loft and settled as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he was going about this all the wrong way. He needed her on his side if he didn’t want to be thrown from the loft before he was ready.

  ‘What’s your real name?’ What was he doing? Only moments ago he’d berated himself for speaking to her bluntly and now he was barking at her again. ‘If you don’t mind telling me, that is.’ If she hadn’t been looking directly at him, he would have banged his head on the wall. He was being such an idiot and he couldn’t blame his near death from drowning on his behaviour either.

  Without coming any closer, Ave held out a hunk of bread.

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmured as he took it from her, his fingers brushing against the back of her hand. The brief touch sent tingles skittering across his skin. He forced himself to act as if nothing was happening to him as he leaned back into his corner of the loft.

  That brief display of manners seemed to relax Ave. Instead of returning to the stalls below, she settled down, still as far away from him as possible, but at least she was sitting down and not scurrying away from him.

  William tore off a chunk of bread and began to eat. The loaf was hard and flavourless, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. The dried slab filled a hole he hadn’t realised was gaping until he started shoving food in his mouth.

  ‘It’s Avva.’

  He paused mid-chew and looked across at her. She was watching him intently, her eyes unblinking. He swallowed, the bread forming a lump in his throat.

  ‘Avva,’ he repeated.

  She nodded and then dipped her head, appearing to concentrate on the hay near her feet.