The Knight's Broken Promise

by Nicole Locke

  Robert did not raise his face.

  ‘’Tis too dark to travel now, and it’s going to rain,’ she added.

  He turned to her, his face implacable, his features cold. She almost wished for his earlier anger or at least his gruffness. This was a Robert she knew nothing about.

  ‘I’ll leave by first light,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to be on your own to get your supplies. I will not stay any longer.’

  She had a feeling it was the worst possible time to ask for any favours, but then again, the past few weeks had been the worst possible time for her. ‘I’ll still be needing your money, as I have none.’

  ‘You’ll have it.’ His lips almost curved, but it wasn’t in humour. ‘Isn’t that the reason you goaded me on this trip?’

  He mocked her. How could she explain needing money hadn’t occurred to her until they’d started travelling? When she had asked him to help her, she had only been thinking of using Robert’s horse and Robert’s protection. Embarrassed, she stated, ‘I had nae...’

  Simultaneously, Robert whispered, ‘Beg pardon.’ He grabbed Maisie’s hand and pulled her up from the ground. ‘I did not mean to embarrass you.’

  He’d apologised. He never apologised. She didn’t understand him. If he had displayed this icy coldness before, she wouldn’t have asked him to travel with them. He looked every bit as unsafe as she could imagine. She couldn’t imagine staring in want of him now, let alone...kissing him. Her cheeks flushed. He had been acting oddly since they’d arrived here, but she realised that since she had met him, she’d been acting just as oddly. Kissing and wanting a stranger, demanding his protection and money. Demanding...him.

  ‘Nae, it’s I who should beg forgiveness,’ she said. ‘I really had nae intention of—’

  ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘This journey is full of unintended actions. Let us see what they offer.’

  The moment they opened the door, the innkeeper came barrelling towards them. She grabbed Alec’s hand and addressed the rounded man. ‘We are all ready if you are.’

  ‘Aye, lass, my wife has got the bed ready for you and I’ll find some shelter for the horses in the back.’

  Gaira called for Creighton and Flora, then followed the innkeeper into the building.

  Her eyes had hardly adjusted to the dim light as the innkeeper manoeuvred them through the tables and boisterous patrons leaning against whitewashed walls.

  The room was in the back of the dining room. It was a simple, crude room and consisted of a low fireplace, one bed and one very tiny stool. What it did not consist of was space. She had agreed to the room because the innkeeper had said it was big enough for them.

  The bed was hardly big enough for two people, let alone six, and she could hear talk through the thin walls.

  Even if she put the children in the bed, there was no place for her and Robert to sleep. There was only enough floor space for one to sleep in front of the fire. It might be suitable for a married couple, but entirely unsuitable for a man and a woman not married. They couldn’t possibly stay here.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Turning, she fixed a bright smile on her face. The innkeeper and Robert were not going to understand her sudden change of mind. But her feelings for Robert were too confusing to be put in such tight quarters. What if she did something foolish, such as...demanding him again?

  The loud crack of thunder made her jump and the deluge of rain made her smile fall. The storm had reached them. She couldn’t ask the children to travel now.

  Robert, at least, would be happy they had shelter for the night. The man did not like getting wet. She almost giggled at Robert’s secret weakness.

  Giving the innkeeper a true smile, Gaira said, ‘I suppose we should have some food. Do you have any?’

  ‘Aye, mutton soaked in ale and a bit of bread.’

  Gaira gave him a grateful grin. ‘We’ll take bowls and bread for everyone, please.’

  ‘And honey!’ Alec piped up.

  ‘And ale,’ Robert added.

  Gaira glared at Robert, but he ignored her. She turned to the innkeeper. ‘You doona happen to have any honey here?’

  ‘Ale, aye, but honey, nae.’

  ‘I’m sure your stew will be delicious and we’ll take the ale. Thank you.’

  The innkeeper nodded and opened the door. Great sounds of laughter and loud talk filled the room before he closed it again.

  Gaira waited before she turned to Robert. ‘You spoke!’

  ‘I’ve been known to do that before.’

  She put her hands on her hips. ‘I thought we agreed you wouldn’t.’

  ‘I couldn’t take the risk of you not ordering me ale.’

  ‘Ale is worth risking your life for?’

  ‘In certain situations.’

  ‘Now?’ she asked incredulously. ‘Now is that time?’

  ‘Being shut up in one room with four sleeping children and you, Gaira, warrants the numbing effects of ale,’ he replied. ‘I only hope he brings me enough.’

  * * *

  Busby couldn’t believe his luck. Just when he thought he was wasting his time drinking and resting his nag, in walked the reason for his drink and rest.

  It was her red hair. A man could use that for a beacon in the foulest of Scottish weather. But the rest of her was so changed, it took her coming in a second time for him to recognise her.

  She was still too tall and skinny and she walked with a slight limp. He couldn’t remember a limp. But the limp was not what marked her different. ’Twas her face that was no longer red and puffy; instead it was slender, well-shaped and her eyes were...not ugly. He realised it wouldn’t be so bad to bed the wench now.

  Luck and fate were on his side. Fate that his betrothed walked into this particular inn, and luck that he was far enough in a dark corner she didn’t see him as she talked incessantly with the innkeeper.

  But fate dipped a second hand because she wasn’t alone. Four children and a man followed behind her like ducklings and a protective papa duck.

  Busby kept his eyes on the man, who moved with assurance. The man’s head was bowed, but Busby could see his eyes scan the room. Busby had no fear of recognition because he had never seen this man before.

  Keeping his tankard to cover his face, he watched them go to the back rooms. When the back door opened again, he carefully averted his head, but it was only the innkeeper. He ordered more ale and watched as the innkeeper gathered food and took it to the back.

  So they weren’t joining the diners for food and they intended to stay the night. All the better for him. Luck seemed to be evening the odds.

  Busby’s only concern was the man with the sword. The man wasn’t as large as him, but he could still be dangerous. Busby wouldn’t take chances. He would use the element of surprise. He would be victorious for his children and for himself.

  At the thought of his children, he felt the familiar stab of pride. He couldn’t let them down. He would get the wench and teach her a lesson for not wanting to be their mother. Those brats she had in tow were not her responsibility and he didn’t care what happened to them. His bargain was for her.

  Fully satisfied with the turn of events, he drank long from his tankard. Now that she was here, he no longer needed to chase. He just needed to capture and kill any man that got in the way.

  * * *

  ‘I thought the stew was delicious,’ Gaira said loudly to be heard over the rain pounding on the roof above them. ‘I think the innkeeper must have used a touch of mead to finish it off.’

  She walked to the stool and looked down at it, then turned on her heel and began to walk towards the opposite wall. ‘I thought it would have made the stew too sweet, but it was quite good.’

  Robert leaned against the door and took a drink of his ale.

&
nbsp; ‘It must have been Alec’s request for honey that made the innkeeper put it in. Or do you think he always makes it that way?’

  Robert swirled his cup, but he did not reply.

  She walked back to the stool and circled it. ‘This evening will hardly go faster if you are silent.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s easier.’

  She clenched her hands at her side. ‘What’s easier?’

  He pointedly looked at her and over at the four sleeping children in the bed. When he gazed back at her, his eyes lingered on her lips, her breasts, her hips and then slowly, slowly, down her legs.

  She felt every bit of his gaze. It was most effective in getting his point across. ‘Oh!’

  He took another drink.

  ‘Why do you not go outside to drink?’

  ‘I’ve been asking myself the same question.’

  She raised her brows. It wasn’t clear to her why not.

  ‘You are on the same floor as those men outside. There is no lock on this door. If I stand outside this door it would only look like a challenge to men too drunk to see they shouldn’t fight with me. Therefore, I stay right here and when I rest, it will be against this door.’

  She looked at his face, unreadable, but his body was held rigid despite the ale he’d been drinking in copious amounts. Neither had sat on the stool. She had paced, while he had remained by the door.

  Yet he had not remained still. In fact, every time she paced near him, he had moved. A step here, a step there, but always away from her.

  That shifting, that trying to stay away from her, confirmed he had feelings. His arrogant gaze at her body had been meant as a defence. It was a way to embarrass her, to make her wary.

  And she had been. For a moment.

  But maybe it was the pounding rain, or the laughter of the men outside, or maybe it was because she seemed to have too much energy for this tiny room, but she didn’t feel wary any more. She took a couple of steps towards him. She knew she was demanding again. But he had been acting oddly since they arrived in town and she had to know. He could forget the kiss, but she couldn’t.

  He did not move, but he lowered his tankard and kept his eyes on her.

  In the fire’s bright light, all his braw features were highlighted for her. He had shaved his beard and cut his hair. Such simple things and yet it greatly altered his appearance. His eyes, eyes that already compelled her, were not hidden behind unruly locks.

  His cheeks and jaw were square, strong. He had a smattering of white scars along one cheek. They weren’t cuts, but flat and just a bit lighter than his skin. There were so many and they continued down into his tunic, but they did not hide what his beard had.

  Robert of Dent was a handsome man.

  Since he had emerged from the forest, she had stolen glances at him. She couldn’t help it. Where for some inexplicable reason she had been drawn to him before, now, with his features revealed, she was...fascinated.

  She took a step closer and he began to make his own adjustments to avoid being near her.

  He was wary of her. She almost smiled. ‘What are you so afraid of?’

  Surprise flashed in his eyes before he could hide it. ‘I thought I made that clear,’ he said.

  She took another step closer. ‘Nae, you are not wary of the men outside this door, there is something else.’

  ‘There is nothing else,’ he said.

  She couldn’t seem to help whatever curious or foolish part of her heart that made her take the chance. ‘There’s me,’ she said.

  She saw his hand jerk before he lifted the tankard to his lips again to hide the telltale movement. He swallowed deep, draining the cup, and lowered it. ‘Aye, there’s you and the children and this damned journey you have me on.’

  ‘It would be damned if you did not come.’

  ‘You keep forgetting I am only on this journey part way. In the morning I will be gone.’

  ‘I think of little else. I had hoped...’ She stopped, unsure of whether to ask, but knowing she needed to. ‘I had hoped you would take me and the children the rest of the journey.’

  He looked stunned. No, he looked terrified. And his reaction hurt. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to ask him, but necessity required her to ask him again.

  She lifted her chin. ‘Will you at least wait until I have my supplies?’

  He bent down and set the tankard on the floor by the door. ‘An hour at this point will not make much difference. The damage is done.’

  She turned and looked at the children. Except for Alec, they were curved into each other. Alec, in the middle, was sprawled, his arms flung out across the face of Maisie and the chest of Creighton. They slept knowing they were safe. Robert, reluctant as he was, was making sure they were safe.

  ‘I see nae damage done,’ she said.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t.’ It was his turn to take a step forward. ‘But you never asked if it would hurt me to help you along this journey, did you?’

  Guilt hit her like a ram to her gut. She knew he risked his life by going further into Scottish territory, but she hadn’t thought about the journey hurting him in any other way. How could it? He was just one of thousands of soldiers in King Edward’s army.

  She was the one who had to get the children to safety through hostile land. She was justified in asking him. Her guilt was quickly replaced by frustration. ‘I asked you to come only because of our safety.’

  ‘Aye! You were only concerned for your own safety, for your own convenience,’ he continued. ‘And I am a damned man for caving to any guilt.’

  Anger swamped her frustration in one swift wave. How dare he say he was damned! ‘That’s not true! By returning to my brothers, it is I who will suffer!’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

  A pox on her temper and her tongue. ‘’Tis naught.’

  ‘What danger have you put us in by taking us here, Gaira?’

  She tried to act affronted. ‘I haven’t put you or the children in any danger.’

  ‘What about you?’

  She turned away, but there was nowhere she could go and there was no way she was going to be able to avoid the question. ‘My brothers may not be happy to see me when I arrive home.’

  ‘Why?’

  Oh, she didn’t want to tell him the whole humiliating truth, but she was terrible at lying. ‘I ran away to my sister’s.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked again.

  She hated his persistence. ‘Does it matter why?’ She turned to face him. ‘’Tis my worry, not yours. You, as you so often state, are leaving in the morning to your precious England.’

  ‘I have reason to return.’

  ‘Secrets, you mean. Why do you hound me to tell you everything, when in fact you are hiding things, too?’

  ‘Are we to have this conversation again?’ he asked. ‘I thought it did not matter who I was and what my obligations were as long as I was at your beck and call.’

  His level tone did not hide his anger. But his anger did not match hers, which crested like the waves of the Clyde.

  ‘I!’ She pointed to her breast, her whispered voice harsh with wanting to scream. ‘I would do anything to help these children. Even if I have to beg some churlish, English, scrubby murderer of Scots to help me, I am going to help those children!’

  She stepped closer and glared directly into his deep brown eyes. ‘I did not ask because I wanted your company, Englishman. I asked because fate, God or the devil gave me nae choice.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I asked because you were the only one who showed up!’

  She watched how his breathing changed, saw his eyes darken to a terrible black and in their depths she saw heat war with his anger.

  ‘Aye, I showed up,’ he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. ‘Aye, I agreed
. God knows I will not allow such a whim in the future. The cost has been too high.’

  ‘Do not speak to me of cost.’ She wanted to take that one step separating them so she could hit him. ‘I have paid doubly to whatever your whim may cost you. First with Irvette’s death, then with my—’

  She stopped and caught herself before she said anything further. Just thinking of Irvette fed her need to hurt, stab, to free the sudden frustration she had.

  She saw his eyes flick over her features, take in her pent-up emotions.

  ‘Don’t take a step closer,’ he said, his breath heavy.

  Anger no longer held Robert still. Desire had won and it was consuming him.

  And he asked her not to step closer? She knew that heat would release her feelings. She wanted to feel that heat.

  ‘Don’t,’ he said his voice harsh. ‘Whatever feeling you have right now, don’t follow it. What little power I have is keeping me rooted to this spot, but it will vanish if you so much as lean towards me. Not even the children will make a difference.’

  The children.

  She stumbled back from him. ‘I dinna mean...’

  ‘Don’t speak!’ He let his breath out roughly and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘You were right to ask me to help with the children.’ He lowered his arm. ‘It is I who should apologise. I have no right being angry or making you feel wrong for the decisions I made.’

  He reached to touch her face, then clenched his fingers and dropped his hand to his side. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you. You have lost much in a fight you did not ask for.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I, at least, should pay some cost for my deeds. If that means making sure you and the children have what you need for the rest of your journey, so be it. I will not travel with you, but I will wait for you to receive your supplies.’

  She could not return his smile, but she tried to make her voice light. ‘Doona worry, Englishman, I’ll make sure you pay. I have high plans for buying a right nice horse for Alec.’

  Chapter Seventeen