by Julia Latham
“Men understand one another where a beautiful woman is concerned.”
“Stop saying that.” Her pale skin showed her every blush. “You do not need to flirt with me when no one is watching.” She stepped away from him. “And my friendship with Sir Simon is none of your concern, Robert.”
She was already calling him only by his given name. That was a good start.
“A friendship. That is a good word. Then I shall not worry that I am intruding on another man’s—”
“Another man’s what?” she interrupted stiffly. “I do not belong to any man.”
He wondered at her attitude, and what it said about her marriage, and her husband’s mysterious death. And she’d been a man’s mistress—hadn’t that meant she belonged to Drayton? Or had she resisted that notion so forcefully that she’d killed him? Yet the League believed that she’d murdered the viscount because he didn’t offer marriage.
“But Sir Simon has shown an interest in you first, and might not appreciate my…attentions.” Now he gave her his wickedest smile.
She only lifted her chin. “If I agree to accept his courtship, it does not mean that I cannot be courted by other men.” Turning away, she added almost under her breath, “As if that ever happens.”
“What was that?” he called.
“’Twas nothing of importance. Act as you see fit toward me, and I will understand the reason, though I will tell no one the truth. Now may we leave, before Francis worries about what has happened to me?”
“Of course. Do you wish to return before I do, so that it will not be known that we were alone together for so long?”
She blinked up at him, and her tension eased. “Aye, thank you for thinking of appearances. I imagine you are not known for that,” she added dryly.
His eyes widened in feigned astonishment. “Why, Mistress Sarah, what can you mean?”
“I sense you are a man who does not much care what others think of him.”
“I care what you think.”
She tsked and shook her head. “There is no one to see you flirt in this glade, so you don’t have to bother.”
“’Tis no bother, mistress.”
But she showed him her back and walked away, saying over her shoulder, “We shall speak again, Robert.”
“Aye, we shall,” he added meaningfully, even though she could not hear him.
Without sound, he followed her back through the woodland, making sure she reached the castle grounds. He admired the sway of her curvaceous hips, the bounce of her breasts, the way her hair looked like fire in the sun. He told himself that thinking of her in such physical terms would help him flirt with her. Once she’d gone through the gatehouse, he made his way inside the cover of the trees toward the lane to the village, then appeared on it as if he’d gone for a walk. He was within the great hall in time for the midday meal, and the next step in his plan.
Walter, who was standing near the hearth with a tankard in his hand, caught his gaze. Walter lifted another tankard from a passing maidservant’s tray and brought it to Robert, who gladly took several long swallows.
“’Tis warm outside,” Robert said, after wiping his mouth.
“Perhaps our sparring exhausted you for the day.”
He gave Sir Walter a broad smile. “Hardly. But I did enjoy the challenge. Did you?”
He thought his partner showed a faint hint of amusement, but it was hard to be certain.
“Aye, I did,” Walter said. “You have much skill for so young a man.”
“Perhaps my guardians were not so wrong in their methods to train me.”
Walter’s eyes narrowed. “Good combat skills do not replace a normal life.”
“You cannot be concerned for me, Sir Walter.”
“All should be concerned for the young and innocent.”
“Innocent. Now there is a word I have not heard used much to describe me.”
For a moment Walter did not answer, only looked at Robert impassively. Did the older man truly care about him rather than just on principle? They had known each other too briefly for that to be so. Walter was the man who would help decide his fate with the League. And just because the knight regretted the League’s method of his upbringing didn’t mean that he would go easy on Robert.
Walter looked about, then spoke softly. “Did you enjoy your walk?”
“Everything went well,” he murmured.
“Everything?” Walter repeated, eyeing him impassively. “I noticed that Mistress Sarah was absent as well.” He looked pointedly at the bright ribbon around the bandage on Robert’s upper arm.
Robert smiled, even as he kept his senses alert so they could not be overheard. “Aye, she was with me.”
“And for what purpose?”
Robert met his gaze. “I told her our purpose as the king’s men, and asked for her help in finding the murderer.”
Walter went still, his gray eyes revealing nothing. “Why did you not mention your plan to me last night?”
At least he realized Robert had done it deliberately, and not on a whim. “You have made it clear you suspect my methods. Enlisting Sarah’s aid was a calculated risk on my part, but I think ’twas the correct move.”
“Perhaps, but we cannot discuss it here,” Walter said, when several knights began to play dice against the wall nearby.
“Tonight,” Robert replied quietly.
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“Only that I have another idea for this afternoon.”
“Perhaps I do not wish to know,” Walter said with a sigh.
Chapter 6
Through dinner, Sarah could not stop watching Robert. She sat only briefly, feeling the need to move about the great hall, speaking with the servants, overseeing the kitchen staff.
But that was all an excuse. She didn’t feel up to spending time at the head table with Robert. She wanted to look on him from afar, to think about everything he’d revealed to her.
Although the sun was shining through the thick glass windows, she felt cold to the depths of her bones, as if the stone of the castle had seeped inside her.
She kept looking at Francis, and tears would threaten her eyes at the knowledge that he should still have his father, that he should be the same happy boy. Now he sank into quiet moments, his gaze within, thinking of dark things no five-year-old should have to face. Did he feel orphaned? Alone, even in this large household?
But Robert had the ability to pull him out of such sad contemplation. She saw the large knight bend down over the quiet boy, who only picked at his food, and whatever he said made Francis’s face brighten into laughter.
This same knight was here for a deeper purpose, of course, and although whatever truth he discovered would let all feel justice, it could not bring back a good man.
She gazed about the great hall, feeling a part of all its people, yet not. She had thought such a sensation long gone, but Robert’s revelation brought it all back.
Someone here was a murderer.
She looked at the valet serving a platter of meat to the head table. He was barely out of boyhood, and had proven clumsy at his new position. Only months ago, he’d dropped a steaming mug of mulled wine on the late viscount’s lap and been soundly scolded for it, which had humiliated him and his mother, who was eating nearby. Such a minor thing in Sarah’s eyes, but could something like that lead to revenge? How to know what was in the human heart?
Then there was the gamekeeper, whose position kept him in charge of the lord’s forest—and also forced him to punish those poor folk who poached from the land without permission. Could he have despised his lordship for the justice he’d been forced to mete out?
It all seemed so preposterous—yet the viscount was dead, and someone had murdered him.
Her sense of peace, of happy contentment, was gone.
Athelina, the chambermaid who’d first lured Robert into a dance the previous night, now approached him and put a hand on his shoulder as she spoke. He laughed u
p at her, those blue eyes bright with the interest he showed every woman. He was amusing and charming, and it all seemed so natural in him.
But his flirtation with Sarah had had an ulterior purpose. Rather than fun, he’d wanted her assistance. She should have expected nothing else.
“Mistress Sarah?”
She turned around at the sound of a male voice and found Sir Simon bowing his head to her. To her shock, he reached for her hand and kissed it. As he released her, he straightened, and she had to arch her neck to see his kind face. He was a sturdy-looking yet lean man, not truly handsome, but with the strength of prominent cheekbones and a strong, square jaw that gave him a masculine presence that women appreciated. She tried not to think of the other man in the hall who set women’s hearts fluttering with just a lazy smile.
“A good afternoon to you, sir,” she said to Sir Simon.
“And to you, mistress. ’Tis a fine day for a walk, and I can tell by your brighter freckles that you’ve been on one.”
She laughed and blushed, probably making her freckles stand out more. “Aye, I took a moment to have some time for myself. I often like to explore the woodland for new places to take young Lord Drayton.” She might as well use the story she’d tried on Robert.
“Perhaps you might do me the honor of accompanying me on a walk into the village on the morrow? I have not been in residence long, and would enjoy learning more about my surroundings.”
Surprised, she could only say, “Of course, Sir Simon, as long as I can see Francis settled with his tutor in the morn.”
“My thanks, mistress,” he said, bowing as he left her to return to his table.
She stared after him thoughtfully until she noticed Robert staring at her. He wore a knowing smile that suddenly made her feel uncomfortable. Why should he care if she walked with a knight?
But of course, she’d offered to assist him however she could. What if he insisted he needed her at his side all day? Was that not where her loyalty to the late viscount demanded she remain?
Yet for the first time she’d met a kind man who showed an interest in her. She did not turn to mush inside when he looked at her—such silly emotion meant nothing. She’d long since learned to expect little of that in real life, only in fantasies. If she could have someone as a companion, someone who respected her and would face the long years at her side—someone she trusted—that was all that was important.
She found herself watching Robert again. The meal was over, and as people went about their afternoon duties, he and Sir Walter lingered in a discussion with the steward and the treasurer. Even the bailiff of one of the nearby manors was included. To her surprise, Sir Walter caught her gaze and held it a moment, giving only a cool nod before he turned back to his conversation. A chill washed through her.
Robert had said that Sir Walter answered to him, which seemed strange, given the disparity in their ages. What was their relationship like, and did Sir Walter approve of Robert using her assistance in their investigation?
The older man made her nervous with his calm, impassive expression, she decided. But then so did Robert, for exactly the opposite reason. It seemed nothing could please her this day. She turned her back on the men and smiled as she joined Francis.
The boy’s shoulders drooped. “Father Osborne says we’re to study French today. Can I not go to the tiltyard?”
“You know your exercises will have to wait. You are a fine little lord, who needs to know about the world.”
“I don’t know why,” Francis grumbled, dragging his feet through the rushes.
“Because you want to be as smart as your papa, do you not?”
Though it hurt the little boy, she didn’t want to ignore the subject of his father. He needed to be able to discuss his feelings.
Francis gave a reluctant nod. “Papa would want me to be smart.”
She ruffled his hair. “You’re already smart, silly goose. Now you have to fill your brain up with things to be smart about!”
Together, they began to climb the stairs to the lord’s solar, where the chaplain would be waiting for them. Once again, Sarah felt someone’s piercing gaze as if it could touch her back. She wouldn’t ignore Robert; she needed him to know she would not be cowed by whatever methods he planned to use to win her cooperation. She turned to give him a cool look, only to find Master Frobisher and the treasurer, Sir Daniel, both staring at her. She stumbled on the stairs in surprise, even as they quickly turned back toward Robert and Sir Walter.
“Mistress Sarah?” Francis said anxiously, catching her hand. “You are always telling me to be careful on the stairs!”
“I am so sorry,” she said, patting his hand. She thought of how he would feel if he lost her, the last one who took care of him. “’Twas clumsy of me, and I will never be so careless again.”
She smiled at him with reassurance, although she felt anything but.
Robert saw the way Master Frobisher and Sir Daniel stared up at Sarah as she left the great hall. They turned back, shamefaced, shrugging their shoulders as if their stares had meant nothing. He had just told them about his mission from the king to discover Lord Drayton’s murderer. Walter had remained silent when Robert made the announcement. Perhaps the Bladesman had even guessed his intentions from the beginning.
Robert had not named Sarah. But they had both looked at her. The League had named her the likeliest suspect—the only suspect. Did these two men think the same?
Objectively, either of them could be the guilty party himself. The steward no longer had someone watching over his every move—and he ceded many of his duties to Sarah. What was he doing with his free time?
And the treasurer was in charge of the viscountcy’s finances. His lordship could have been about to uncover misuse of his funds. A treasurer could kill for that.
But the League was convinced that Sarah was guilty. It would take a sizable amount of evidence for Robert to believe otherwise.
“Gentlemen, I tell you that your lord was murdered,” Robert said coolly, “and your first reaction is to watch a nursemaid leave the hall?”
Master Frobisher cleared his throat, his round face earnest. “Forgive me, Sir Robert. I was actually looking at the young lord and feeling pity for him.”
Sir Daniel’s expression was harder to read behind his bushy gray beard, but he nodded vigorously, not meeting Robert’s eyes.
Robert didn’t believe them. Master Tallis, the red-faced, stout bailiff, stared between the two men in confusion but said nothing.
“Surely this is a mistake,” Master Frobisher continued, his expression earnest. “We all saw how ill Lord Drayton was.”
“And how carefully Mistress Sarah tended him,” Sir Daniel added, glancing at the steward, “even though we all feared the black death.”
The bailiff swallowed and looked about, as if the great hall had somehow become infected.
“’Twas poison,” Walter said in his flat voice.
Sir Daniel inhaled sharply, Master Frobisher’s mouth dropped open, and Master Tallis took a step back.
“The symptoms are clear indications for arsenic poisoning,” Robert said, “as long as a person is informed of what to look for. Lord Drayton’s illness came to the king’s attention.” And the League’s. “The king’s councilors are in agreement. ’Tis murder, gentlemen.”
“What will happen now?” Master Frobisher asked in a weak voice.
“Sir Walter and I will investigate. We ask that you allow us to do our work privately. There is no need to panic the household. We do not believe this a random act, for no one else has sickened. Lord Drayton was targeted for a reason, and we will discover it, as well as the identity of his killer.”
The two men Drayton had trusted now glanced at each other, then seemed to make a silent decision.
Master Frobisher took a deep breath. “We have noticed your interest in Mistress Sarah. We feel it is only fair that you understand that besides being the young lord’s nursemaid, she was Lord Drayton’s mi
stress.”
“After his wife died?” Walter asked.
They both nodded, while Master Tallis simply looked confused.
“We believe so,” Sir Daniel clarified. “He doted on her so much that he even moved her into his suite of chambers.”
“That was to tend Lady Drayton,” Master Frobisher quickly said, “and to be near the young lord.”
Sir Daniel rolled his eyes. “We all know that she comforted his lordship after his wife’s death. There was a respect between them that none of us could deny.”
“And so now you allow her to oversee the household,” Walter said.
“She is very skilled,” Master Frobisher said, and then his skin reddened. “With the household,” he added. “I know nothing else.”
Robert nodded. “My thanks for the information. We will keep you informed of our investigation.”
When the three men had gone, Walter gave him an impassive look. “Interesting that they felt the need to mention Mistress Sarah. There was already suspicion here. We’ll discuss it tonight.”
“I look forward to it.” Robert watched the older knight walk away. Sir Daniel and the bailiff were whispering together near the great double doors, just as he’d known they would, he thought with satisfaction.
Sarah did her best to enjoy the hour she spent watching Francis exercising with the other boys of the castle. They practiced with small wooden swords near the tiltyard, pretending they were knights. Next the captain of the guard oversaw their wrestling training. The boys shouted and cheered each other on, and she was relieved to see Francis more actively participating than he’d done since his father’s illness.
Or perhaps he was showing off for Robert, Sir Simon, and the other knights who occasionally paused in their training to shout encouragement. Sometimes Robert would look over at her and smile, as if he wanted to share in her pride over the boy. She nodded back to him, but without much enthusiasm. She was still feeling overwhelmed by all he’d revealed to her, by the terrible sadness of a good man’s death.
