The Knight's Maiden in Disguise

by Ella Matthews

  ‘I think Baron Caerden is plotting against the King.’

  She inhaled sharply, her whole body jerking away from him. ‘No! He would not be so addle-brained as to commit treason.’ She started to shake her head. ‘He is a lazy, indolent man. His only interests are feasting, hunting and bedding women. He would not stir himself to... No, you’re wrong.’

  He didn’t want to do this to her. He didn’t want to disrupt the safe life she had built for herself. But time was pressing and he needed her on his side. ‘Then why was I attacked?’

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times, closely resembling a landed pike. Even impersonating a fish, she really was exceptionally lovely. She was obviously befuddled and clearly angry with him, but, even so, he still wanted to press his mouth to hers, to forget about everything as he explored her body. Unfortunately for him there were many reasons why this could not happen. Not least because his body still hurt like hell and any movement was causing him extreme discomfort. Even if she welcomed his touch, reaching out to her would cause him pain.

  ‘I think I have accidentally stumbled on something, something bigger than you and me.’

  Avva was still shaking her head. ‘Just because the Baron wants you out of the way, it doesn’t mean he is plotting against the King. There could be many other reasons behind the attack on you.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like...’

  ‘Five men beat me almost senseless and threw me in the river to die. They didn’t take my coins or the clasp of my cloak, even though they are worth something. They were not motivated by wealth. Do you think Thomas or Caerden or this Barwen person arranged an attack on me because he took offence at me staying in the town rather than at the castle?’

  She frowned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  ‘Then what do you think was behind the attack? Because it looks suspiciously like Barwen and Thomas have something they wanted to keep hidden. Remember what they were talking about when we were...when we overheard them.’

  ‘I don’t... I don’t have time for this. I have duties to attend to.’

  She began to shuffle to the edge of the loft. He was losing her and he couldn’t let that happen. She was his only link to outside this stable.

  ‘I need your help, Avva. At the very least I need you to try to retrieve my sword. I lost it while fighting those men, but the chances are quite high that it’s still in the undergrowth near where I went into the river. If I could...’

  She paused. ‘I am giving you help. You are staying here while you recover. I’m feeding you and keeping you safe. There is nothing else I can do for you.’

  ‘I appreciate the help you have given me so far. It has put you in danger and I regret that deeply.’ He was still losing her, her eyes kept darting to the edge of the loft. He needed something powerful, something that would shock her into acting for him. ‘It is not just me who needs your aid. It is the King of England.’

  He could see immediately that he had said the wrong thing. The softening he’d seen in her countenance hardened, her shoulders straightened and her look became firm.

  ‘And therein lies the problem.’ Her voice was firm now, there was no wavering in her speech. She had made up her mind and it was not in his favour. ‘Edward III is the English King and I am a Welsh woman.’

  She didn’t give him time to respond before she swung her legs over the edge of the loft and dropped to the ground, effectively ending their conversation.

  Chapter Ten

  Avva concentrated fully on the rhythmic sweeping of her brush as she cleaned out the stalls. Every time her mind strayed to the man in the loft, she forced it in another direction. Sir William had fallen asleep not long after their conversation yesterday afternoon. She had checked on him during the night, climbing up to the loft now and then to make sure he was still breathing.

  When she was sure he was sleeping deeply and would not rouse, she slipped from the stables and went to hunt for his sword, even though she’d not promised to do so. The sight of him sleeping peacefully had tugged on her heart. Covered in bruises, with his body soft in sleep, he had seemed more vulnerable than the hardened warrior she was used to. Asking for his sword was not an unreasonable request and it would allow him to defend himself better, if the need arose.

  She’d found it along with a few other of his weapons scattered around—getting them into the castle grounds had been harder. Eventually, she had settled for collecting some hay and stored the heavy weapons among the feed until it could be collected later.

  Tiredness dragged at her movements, but she could not rest until William was gone.

  She had decided to keep Sir William safe until he was well enough to walk away by himself. It was what Aven would have done and what was right, but she wanted no part in his mission. Becoming embroiled in a treasonous plot, even if it was on the right side of the law, was not something she could risk becoming involved in, especially in her precarious position.

  Besides, it would do no good for her to spend any more time with William.

  Her brother’s blanket had done little to hide the man’s broad shoulders and muscled forearms. He might have been able to converse easily with her while naked save for a slight covering of woollen material, but it had taken all her resolve not to let her eyes stray below his neckline.

  The urge to run her hands over the bare skin of his torso was so overwhelming she’d had to clasp her hands together under her knees to stop herself from reaching over and touching him.

  She might be naive where men were concerned, but she knew enough to know that these wild cravings did not end well. She and Aven had been the product of their noble father’s unbridled lust. There had been no love in the union and when his passion had been sated, she and her twin brother were the unwanted by-blows. She would not wish that burden on any child of her own.

  If she was ever able to break away from her male disguise, then she wanted a marriage based on mutual love or, at the very least, mutual respect. She hadn’t seen an example of it first-hand, but she knew it existed.

  She’d even wondered briefly what it would be like to experience such an emotion with William. He’d be the sort of man to treat his wife with respect. She was sure of that. But Avva had seen the look on his face when she’d told him she loved her brothers. He could not have looked more scornful. Then there was the fact that he was a nobleman... No, she must not think of love and William in the same sentence.

  Her poor mother had not experienced any love. She had been forced into marrying her merchant stepfather when it became apparent her lover had finished with her, discarding her and her babes as if they were nothing. Their stepfather had treated her mother as if she were something he’d acquired at market. Her mother had been worn down by life for as long as Avva could remember, possibly due to her near-constant pregnancies.

  Avva had adored every one of the babies her exhausted mother had pushed out into the world. Now there were only two of them left, Dylan and David. She would do everything she could to protect them. She would risk her own life to help William, but never her brothers’.

  Whatever the outcome of this, it would not end well for her if she were involved. Nothing ever did for those who were not noble born. If Caerden or any of his cronies caught her, her life would end in a horrific way and her brothers would probably be punished even if they knew nothing.

  Even as her head argued all the reasons she could not help William, her heart ached for the man who was lying beaten in her loft. She shouldn’t trust him, or even care whether he lived or died, but for some reason she did. What was wrong with her?

  Eirwen nickered and she moved over to his stall. The handsome horse peered over his door. She rubbed his long nose, but he tossed his head, knocking her hand off.

  ‘I can’t help him any more than I already have,’ she murmured. ‘It’s too dangerous.’ Eirwen snorted. ‘You might
think I lack courage but it is not just me I need to think about.’

  The horse turned his head away. ‘He’ll be all right, you know. It’s only a few bruises, they will heal. It’s not as though he actually drowned. I saved him before there was any lasting damage.’ Eirwen still didn’t look impressed. ‘All right. You win. I will go and check on him.’

  She made her way to the bottom of the ladder and then stepped away from it. She should get William something to eat. He was a big man and would need feeding more than she did. He’d had hardly anything yesterday, as he’d slept most of the day away. She headed to the kitchens and managed to get hold of some fresh apples and seed cakes. Nobody paid her much attention in the bustling room but that didn’t stop hot prickles of awareness running down her back, as if invisible eyes were watching her every move.

  She rushed back out into the courtyard and took a few calming breaths. No one knew she had a battered knight lying in her loft. She must not act as if she were guilty of a crime. That was the fastest way to a trip to the torture chamber.

  She forced herself to walk slowly back to the stable, even stopping to talk to John, chatting about the first signs of spring that were beginning to show themselves. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d said, but after a while she decided that she’d done enough to appear normal. She was just about to walk away when John reached out a weathered arm to stop her.

  ‘Ave.’ She turned to him. His normal, smiling eyes were serious and her heart stopped. ‘Gawain was here earlier. He wanted to know what you’d picked up for me the evening before yesterday.’

  Avva’s blood ran cold—why hadn’t she thought to warn John and ask him to cover for her? She’d never suspected that Gawain would check up on her, that’s why. She was so foolish.

  ‘I told him it was for the benches I’m repairing.’

  Avva could only nod jerkily, fear gripping her movements.

  ‘Be careful, Ave.’ John’s gaze was steady and kind.

  ‘Thank you, John,’ she murmured.

  He nodded and turned back to his woodwork, appearing to forget about her instantly.

  For a moment she could only stand and stare at his bent head, before she slowly turned back towards the stables, the food gripped tightly in her hands.

  She climbed up to the top of the ladder without noticing she’d done it. She hauled herself into the space and then froze.

  William’s blanket had fallen to his waist, leaving his chest uncovered. The skin was covered in large purple-looking bruises and grazed skin, but that wasn’t what stole the breath from her lungs or made her heart race.

  She’d seen men stripped to the waist before, but seeing their naked bodies had never had an effect on her before. They’d never made every nerve in her body suddenly spring into life, craving only one thing: his touch.

  The corded muscles of his stomach twisted as he moved and a strange fluttering sensation began in her stomach. Even as her brain screamed at her to look away, she found herself transfixed. Her gaze dipped lower still, dark hair curled beneath his navel, disappearing beneath the blanket.

  Somewhere in the hazy distance someone cleared their throat and Avva started, the sound kicking her out of her trance.

  She lifted her gaze and met William’s eyes. His brown eyes were almost black, a simmering tension lurking in their depths, but there was laughter there as well. Heat flooded her face as she realised she’d been caught staring at his body. She hadn’t even realised he was awake.

  ‘Some food,’ she said, thrusting the apples and seed cakes towards him.

  He took an apple from her, his fingers brushing her hand as he did so. His touch caused the strange fluttering in her stomach to travel through her whole body. She moved away from him quickly. Everything about this man was dangerous, she must keep reminding herself of that.

  ‘You’re looking spooked. Has something happened?’ His voice was raspy, almost as it had been when she’d pulled him from the river, but he’d been getting better, hadn’t he?

  She took a bite from her apple, chewing slowly.

  When she was sure she could speak normally, she said, ‘One of the guards was questioning my behaviour on the night I pulled you from the river.’

  William reached over and touched her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Avva. I will get out of your way as soon as I can.’

  Even though that was exactly what she wanted, Avva was surprised to feel her stomach sinking. She wanted him to go, didn’t she? Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure. He was staring at her face, but when she didn’t say anything he dropped his gaze and removed his hand.

  ‘How is it you think I can help you?’ The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. It wasn’t at all what she’d meant to say. She’d meant to ask him when he thought he might be able to move out of here, but now she was near him she found she wasn’t as keen to abandon him to his fate as she’d been telling herself.

  William shook his head. ‘No, you are right. It is too dangerous. You cannot help me. It was foolish of me to ask. When darkness falls I shall leave you.’

  ‘Your injuries...’ Her gaze dropped to his chest again and then quickly away as her stomach squirmed.

  ‘I’ll manage. You’ve done enough.’

  This was what she wanted, so why wasn’t she thanking him and climbing back down? After this evening, she never needed to see him again. The thought made her heart hurt. She closed her eyes tightly. What was happening to her?

  ‘I have found your sword,’ she said quickly.

  Surprise flickered in his eyes. ‘You have? Thank you, it was kind of you to risk yourself that way. Where is it?’

  ‘It is stored in some hay to the side of the stables. Tell me how else you think I can help and I will let you know if I think I can do it. There is no harm in that.’

  ‘I thought Edward wasn’t your King.’

  She turned away from him. Her words earlier had been born out of frustration and fear. King Edward III might be so far removed from her he might as well live on the moon. His father had brought war to Wales and she didn’t trust his son not to do the same, but...

  ‘I would not be doing it for the King, but for you.’

  Her statement seemed to echo around the stables. Even the horses went quiet.

  ‘Avva.’ William’s voice was deeper again, the intense look back in his eyes. ‘Avva,’ he said again, his breath appearing to whisper along the back of her neck, even though he was sitting on the other side of the room.

  ‘Besides, if there is a treasonous plot in Caerden, then I would like to know about it. The more I know, the better I can protect myself and my brothers.’ She didn’t turn to look at him. She had to make clear to him, and to herself, that this was all there was to her offer to help him. It had nothing to do with the strange squirmy sensation in the pit of her stomach, or the way her body seemed to want to lie down next to his.

  That was a physical reaction only. It was a reaction she knew she mustn’t act on. She must remember her mother and the misery she had suffered all because she had succumbed to the late Baron’s desire for her. Avva would not put herself in the same position, despite her belief that William was a better man than most.

  ‘Right,’ he said, still in that deep voice.

  ‘That’s all there is to it.’

  Again, there was a strange silence. She hoped he would leave it there. If he said anything further, she would lose her nerve and leave the loft, making it clear she wanted him gone.

  She heard his gentle exhale, but she still didn’t turn to look at him. ‘I’d like to know where Caerden and his men have gone.’ He took another chunk out of his apple.

  ‘That’s easy. Caerden has taken his troops on a training exercise to the coast.’

  William shook his head. ‘That’s not what I’ve heard.’

  ‘Oh.’ She did turn to face him then. He st
ill hadn’t covered himself with the blanket and she forced her gaze to stay on his face, away from the muscles that had such a strange effect on her.

  His lips twitched—she obviously wasn’t as good at hiding her reaction to his naked body as she’d hoped. For a moment she lost the thread of their conversation. ‘Where...?’

  Fortunately that seemed to be the right thing to say because William carried on. ‘I was told, by Thomas, that a castle to the north of here was experiencing trouble with raiders. According to Thomas, Caerden has taken himself, and most of his best men with him, to support his troubled neighbour. I have also heard contradicting reports that Caerden’s men are camped outside Chepstow. I want to know which one of these is correct.’

  ‘Oh, well, sometimes Thomas gets confused. Unless it’s something to do with food or women, he can barely get himself dressed.’

  ‘Avva, why are you having such a hard time accepting that the Baron is plotting against the King? It is not as if you have any love for Caerden and his ilk.’

  ‘I...’

  ‘This place is rotten to the core. There is no training at the coast. I don’t believe there is trouble in the north either. I believe that Caerden is moving his troops into position for something. You said yourself Caerden is a man who thinks only of himself. Does he seem like a man who would go out of his way to defend a neighbour’s castle?’

  ‘No, but...’

  ‘There is only one reason to move troops and it is not for peaceful reasons. I can assure you, neither the King nor any of his men have ordered the movement to defend or protect from an invasion of forces outside England. There is no large training exercise planned. It is suspicious, Avva, surely you can see that?’

  ‘Yes, but...’

  ‘And what about what we heard? Wasn’t it obvious Thomas and Barwen were plotting something?’

  ‘What we heard when?’

  William cleared his throat. ‘We heard them talking about how they wanted me out of the way. Remember? We were...we were behind the arras.’