‘That is fine,’ Leonor said, thanking the stars for the riding lessons she had had whilst she and her sisters had been living at Castle Salobreña.
Handing the bread to the Count, she took the reins and mounted. Riding astride in a Castilian gown wasn’t something she’d done before and the skirts rode up, almost to her knees. Her cheeks burned. As a princess, she had either ridden in a litter or in a voluminous divided skirt.
Calmly, Lord Rodrigo tugged her skirts down as far as he could. His expression was solemn, but his eyes glinted, and she had the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh.
‘My lady, I realise none of this is what you are used to. If it means anything, you are managing admirably. I’ll put the bread in my saddlebag, unless you want to eat it now.’
‘Thank you, my lord, I thought we might need it later.’
‘Very good.’
As they set the spurs to the horses, Leonor felt a flicker of unease. What had happened to Lord Rodrigo’s squire? She drew up sharply and twisted in the saddle to look back at the inn.
‘My lady?’
‘Where’s your squire?’
‘Miguel?’ His expression was blank, all traces of amusement wiped away. ‘He’ll be joining us in Córdoba when Eagle has rested. Come, we must be on our way.’
He rode on, leaving Leonor to frown at his broad back and wonder at his tone, it had been so dismissive. Something about that studied blankness didn’t fit with what she knew of him. Thus far Count Rodrigo had been extraordinarily openhanded and fair. He had not let his grief touch his dealings with her. He had treated her as though she were his equal, and that brusque tone struck a distinctly jarring note.
Shaking her head, she spurred after him. What did she expect? He was a man.
Earlier, he had surprised her by listening to her when she’d warned him how the gully flooded after heavy rain. And that hadn’t been the only time he’d surprised her. When they’d reached the inn, he hadn’t forced her to remove her veil, he had only suggested she do so. Further, he’d persuaded the innkeeper’s daughter to find more suitable clothes for her.
In short, she’d been given a tantalising glimpse of a world where men and women might listen to each other and treat each other with respect.
His forbearance earlier must have been an aberration. Doubtless he’d been so happy to be free that he’d treated her kindly. That was why he had been patient with her. Plainly his patience was at an end.
Leonor rode on with a heavy heart. She had been mad to think, even for a moment, that when she had walked away from the palace she had stepped into a new world. Lord Rodrigo was simply a means of escaping the tower and she must never forget it.
* * *
Rodrigo kept the pace as hard as he dared and braced himself for a litany of complaints, a Nasrid princess certainly wouldn’t be used to spending an entire day in the saddle.
Their road rose inexorably into scrubby foothills. Rodrigo wasn’t familiar with the route and the sun was unrelenting. After three hours’ riding, he called a halt and they rested beneath the awning of an inn for an hour. Somehow, when his back was turned for a few moments, the Princess managed to acquire a fan from one of the serving girls. Sensible woman.
Then came three more hours of riding, followed by brief rest and a change of horses. He pushed relentlessly on.
By the time the sun was sinking behind the mountains, Rodrigo had gone beyond simply being impressed. Princess Leonor hadn’t complained once. Given that she must have spent her entire life languishing in one palace or another with a bevy of servants catering to her every whim, it seemed nothing short of miraculous.
During the ride, Rodrigo had plenty of time to think. First sight of her in that simple Castilian gown had stolen his power of speech. If she’d been lovely in her exotic palace silks, that plain gown had somehow turned her into a goddess. In it, she was utterly beautiful. Ravishing.
It didn’t make sense that a plain gown made her even lovelier. Yet so it was. Was it that she seemed more approachable in it? Her eyes glowed. The glimpses he had of the glossy dark hair tucked beneath a less concealing veil made him long to unbind it. He had an idea that it reached far below her waist and he spent far too much time wondering about it.
When the Sultan’s daughter wasn’t looking his way, he watched her constantly. He told himself he was keeping an eye on her to make sure she could keep up. When she went back to the palace, her father would want her to be as healthy as when she left it.
He was lying to himself. Her bright eyes gleamed with interest. It was a joy to watch the way she took everything in. She studied the shepherd’s huts they passed on the way and stared at the sheep; she gazed with unfeigned fascination at the tiny villages and irrigation channels built by the farmers. She watched sparrows darting from bush to bush; and when she saw the eagles floating high above the far mountains, her pretty mouth curved. Her whole face shone with delight and pleasure.
After a while Rodrigo found himself wondering if she understood how much danger he was in. Did she think this race to the borders of her father’s realm was just a game?
He continued to observe her and his mood darkened as reality hit home. This was far more than a game. If the Sultan’s men caught them, the danger for Rodrigo was dire. If they were caught near the frontier of her father’s realm, there would be no negotiating. For him, it would be a death sentence.
Grimly, he urged his mount on. He kept up the pace all day, he was determined to reach a tavern known as The Forge. When they got there, they could rest. The afternoon heat built and the Princess’s shoulders drooped. Her smile dimmed and every now and then she shifted in the saddle. She dragged at her veil and glanced his way.
‘Not long before we can find some shade,’ Rodrigo said.
She gave him a tired smile. ‘That’s good to hear.’
‘I’m aiming to reach the frontier.’
She glanced up the road, a slight pleat in her brow. ‘How will we know when we get there?’
‘You may have noticed we’re using a back road. I’ve not come this way before and I’m hoping the border won’t be manned. It’s possible we might have crossed it already.’
Finally, on a small rise, he saw the battered inn sign and let out a sigh of relief.
‘We’ve definitely crossed the border. My lady, you have left your father’s kingdom.’
The Forge was rundown and smaller than Rodrigo had expected. It appeared deserted, but a line of smoke was rising from somewhere behind it, so someone must be about. Rodrigo tethered the horses and led Princess Leonor to a rickety table in the shade of a pine tree.
Dark eyes met his. ‘We’re to remain outside?’
‘Only until I have spoken to the landlord. Be so good as to wait here.’
The Princess nodded and Rodrigo went into the inn.
‘Landlord?’
There was a slight scuffle and a man emerged from the gloom, wiping his hands on his tunic. ‘You want food, sir?’
‘And a private chamber, if you please.’
The innkeeper gave him a blank look. ‘We only have the common room. If you need food, I can serve you inside.’ He peered doubtfully through the door at Leonor. ‘Or outside if you and your lady prefer.’
‘We need somewhere to rest.’ And, Rodrigo thought, somewhere they could stay out of sight, just in case they’d been followed. Since they’d crossed the border, the worst of the danger was past. However, there was no sense courting trouble.
The inn seemed safe enough. A couple of dozy-looking shepherds—their crooks propped against a table—were the only other patrons.
The landlord gestured at a pile of pallets at the far end of the chamber. ‘I could let down the curtain in the sleeping area. You can rest there.’
‘Thank you, landlord, we’ll eat inside.’
* * *
/> An hour later, with his belly pleasantly full of bean soup and bread, Rodrigo was seated at a table next to the curtain that screened off the tables from the pallets. With a wine jug in front of him as cover, he was actually on guard. Behind the curtain, the Princess was sleeping. Or at least he hoped she was. She hadn’t wanted to rest. Despite the shadows under her eyes, she’d put her pretty nose in the air and insisted she wasn’t tired.
What an astonishing woman she was proving to be. Hardy. Clever. And she truly seemed to have turned her back on her father. Rodrigo had an unpleasant feeling that her urge to escape was what had kept her going, and he wasn’t looking forward to her finding out that he intended to send her home.
Whatever else he did, he must keep her from discovering he’d sent a message to her father until after they’d reached Córdoba. He would have to watch his tongue. She had a quick mind and her grasp of Castilian wasn’t simply good, she spoke it like a native. Her duenna, he supposed.
When he heard the hoofbeats, Rodrigo was on his feet before he’d had time to think.
Had the Sultan’s men caught up with them? He gripped the hilt of his sword and stalked to the door, the landlord at his heels.
Chapter Eleven
Two riders were approaching, their horses’ fetlocks dull with dust. It was Enrique and his squire, Pedro. As they dismounted, Rodrigo relaxed his grip on his sword and nodded a greeting.
‘Enrique.’
Enrique’s smile was sour. ‘Might have known you’d beat me to it,’ he said, handing his horse to a stable lad. ‘Where is she? What have you done with her?’
Wondering if Enrique could have been followed, Rodrigo leaned against the doorpost and glanced back down the road. No one else was in sight.
‘Where is she?’ Enrique repeated, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
‘Who?’
‘The wench you stole from me. What have you done with her?’
When his cousin made to pass through the tavern door, Rodrigo barred the way. Enrique wasn’t going anywhere near Princess Leonor.
‘The lady is resting. She’s not to be disturbed, we can talk over there.’ Rodrigo gestured at the sagging table in the shade of the pine tree and caught the landlord’s eye. ‘More ale, if you please. And doubtless my comrades will want food too.’
‘Very good, my lord.’
As Pedro accompanied the landlord into the inn, Rodrigo slung an arm about Enrique’s shoulders and steered him firmly towards the table. A lizard scuttled up the trunk of the pine tree.
‘I’ve no idea what you were trying to do back at the palace, Enrique, but I’m relieved you’re still in one piece. Those dogs were pretty close, I wasn’t sure you’d get away.’
‘No thanks to you, you devil,’ Enrique muttered. ‘You stole my Princess.’
‘Your Princess? Don’t be ridiculous. If you had a speck of honour, you’d be ashamed of yourself.’ A mulish expression crossed his cousin’s face, Rodrigo ignored it. ‘What happened?’
The landlord appeared with the ale and Enrique snatched a cup and drank deep.
‘Lord, I needed that.’ He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and that sour smile reappeared. ‘You’re a dog, Rodrigo, you have all the luck. I got the other woman.’
The other woman? For a moment Rodrigo couldn’t think who his cousin was talking about. Then he realised he must be referring to the older woman Rodrigo had shut in the sally-port, the Princesses’ duenna, Inés. His jaw dropped. ‘The woman in the tunnel?’
‘Aye. Mistook her for the third Princess. Took her up with me.’
Rodrigo felt ill, it seemed there were no depths to which his cousin would not sink. ‘You abducted an old woman? Saints, Enrique, you’re a married man, what you were planning was sickening anyway, but to snatch an elderly—’
‘Wasn’t my fault. She climbed up behind me willingly enough. I had no idea who she was. In truth, she urged me on.’ He laughed. ‘She was desperate to get away. It’s hard to believe a crone like that would have had so much life in her. She spoke Spanish, you know.’
Why was Enrique using the past tense when referring to Inés? Rodrigo felt a chill wash over him. ‘What did you do to her?’
‘Faith, man, my taste doesn’t run to old women. I did nothing.’
Rodrigo glanced pointedly down the empty road. ‘Then where the devil is she?’
‘Somewhere in the middle of nowhere.’
‘Explain.’
‘She—er—she fell off somewhere in Al-Andalus.’
Rodrigo’s jaw sagged. ‘You went on without her?’
His cousin gave a careless shrug. ‘What was I to do? I couldn’t go back for her. Jesu, Rodrigo, a pack of hell hounds was yapping at my heels. Anyhow, it wasn’t my fault the hag was too weak to hold on.’
Something in Enrique’s tone told Rodrigo his cousin was lying. Had Enrique—as soon as he realised he was riding with Inés rather than one of the Princesses—pushed Inés from his horse? It seemed all too plausible.
‘Too weak, eh?’ Rodrigo clenched his jaw, he felt like strangling the man, but that would achieve nothing. ‘Have you no heart? That “crone” as you name her, is the Princesses’ beloved companion and she is as Spanish as you and me.’
‘That explains it.’
‘What?’
‘Before she fell, the blasted woman never stopped talking, drove me mad for an age—nag, nag, nag. Wanted me to catch up with you and Inigo. Was pretty anxious to reach the border. I only let her run on because I thought she was the Sultan’s daughter.’
Rodrigo leaned back and crossed his arms. ‘I am surprised you didn’t realise from the first.’
‘She was sitting behind me. I didn’t see her face until we were almost at the border.’
Aye, with the dogs closing in, you were probably too terrified—and too drunk—to notice, Rodrigo thought grimly. ‘Where exactly did you leave her?’
‘God knows. As I said, somewhere near the border.’
‘Did you trouble to look back? Did she survive the fall?’
‘I’m not sure. Why does it even matter? She’s an old woman, Rodrigo. She’s nothing.’
It matters, Rodrigo thought, gritting his teeth. ‘So, you left her in the wilderness near the border, and you don’t know if she survived the fall.’
‘That’s the sum of it.’
Rodrigo rubbed his brow and wished Enrique was more reliable. Inés could be anywhere. It was obvious that Princess Leonor was fond of her, and she would be distraught when she discovered what had happened. ‘Enrique, you have to do better than that. Do you think she might have continued on foot?’
‘Truthfully, Cousin, I’ve no idea.’
Rodrigo stared bleakly at Enrique as it dawned on him that as soon as he got Princess Leonor to the safety of Córdoba, he would have to send scouts back along their route to try to discover what had happened to her duenna.
Inés might not be alive, but if she was...well, a Spanish duenna who had betrayed Sultan Tariq by helping his daughters to escape had signed her own death warrant. She wouldn’t be treated kindly if the palace guard caught up with her. Rodrigo’s men would have to travel incognito, if they were to venture inside Al-Andalus. There were risks, but they would find her, wherever she was.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rodrigo saw the inn door open. The Princess stepped out and walked determinedly towards them.
Enrique’s eyes widened. ‘That’s the Princess? Whatever is she wearing?’
Rodrigo scowled at his cousin. ‘If you value your hide, you will be respectful.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Furthermore, you will say nothing, not a single word, about the duenna. I should warn you, the Princess speaks Spanish like a native.’
Enrique’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Who the devil taught her?’
‘The woman you abandoned.�
� Rising, Rodrigo held out a hand in a gesture of welcome. ‘My lady, this is my cousin Sir Enrique de Murcia. Do you care to join us?’
‘Please.’
As Princess Leonor seated herself beside him on the bench, Rodrigo noted that her bearing was unusually stiff. She looked coolly at Enrique, her eyes were full of suspicion and what looked very much like fury.
‘Something troubles you, my lady?’ Rodrigo asked, his heart shifting in his chest.
She knows. She’s found out that Enrique abandoned her duenna in the wilderness.
She ignored his question and focused on Enrique. ‘Where is Inés, sir?’
Her voice was cold and her tone imperious. It rang with the arrogance of generations of Nasrid kings who knew their every command would be obeyed. Her chin lifted. ‘Your squire tells me that my duenna rode with you. What have you done with her?’
Enrique looked helplessly at Rodrigo and back at the Princess. ‘You spoke to Pedro, my lady?’
‘Haven’t I said so?’ Her expression was icy. ‘Your man came into the tavern for something to eat, and when I saw you conversing with Lord Rodrigo, I recognised you as the knight who arrived first at the palace. Your man says you set Inés down inside Al-Andalus. Is that true?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
The Princess leaned forward, her gaze pinned Enrique to the spot. ‘Did you leave her near the border?’
Enrique flushed, he looked slightly stunned and Rodrigo couldn’t blame him. He had no idea that the Princess could command such presence. It was rather stimulating. Not to mention that it was good to see Enrique squirm.
‘I am not sure, my lady,’ Enrique said. ‘It...it was dark, you understand. I don’t think the border was far away.’
The Princess turned to Rodrigo. ‘My lord, Inés is not young. She has little money. We have to go back for her.’
Rodrigo nodded. ‘I had already come to the same conclusion.’
And just like that, Princess Leonor’s fierceness was gone. She took his hand and kissed it. ‘Thank you. My lord, I won’t forget this.’
The Knight's Forbidden Princess Page 14
