by Jenna Kernan
Emery shook her head, dismissing such thoughts. For a while at least, she could be herself again and that did not include an unwelcome infatuation with one of the de Burgh brothers, no matter how comely they might be. Adjusting her boy’s garb, she sat up and tucked her hair more tightly under her cap. Her twin would not be ogling the men in his company and she shouldn’t, either. She needed to act more like a male and start thinking like one, too.
Yet, somehow, her gaze drifted to the occupant of the bed, where the first rays of sunlight kissed smooth flesh burnished golden. One strong arm was thrown across his wide chest in repose and his dark hair was tousled with sleep. Staring at him, Emery felt funny inside, as though she wanted to weep and smile at the same time, for a certain joy that came with looking upon him was mixed with the knowledge that she should not.
For an instant, Emery let herself imagine what it would be like to wake up beside Nicholas de Burgh and not on a pallet on the floor by his bed, to be acknowledged as a woman, not a passing youth. And her heart pounded with such yearning that she told herself ’twas just as well that she could do neither.
* * *
Nicholas nodded his approval of the little palfrey Kenrick offered him from the manor’s stock and they concluded the transaction to their mutual benefit. Kenrick had assured him that he could return the animal later, but in the meantime Emery would have a mount. And as he led the sprightly creature towards where Guy and the boy waited, Nicholas felt absurdly pleased with his purchase.
It was a necessity, nothing more, but still he enjoyed presenting the gift. The boy’s surprise and delight was a gift in return, reminding him of the bonds of brotherhood and friendship.
‘Should our paths cross that of the Templar, we shall need speed and the ability to manoeuvre,’ Nicholas said when Emery protested the expense. ‘Guy cannot be worried about you hanging on behind while he rides.’
Emery nodded and Nicholas felt something constrict in his chest. He told himself this odd connection with the boy was brought on by yearning for his own family or perhaps even the son he would never have, yet he deliberately did not gaze directly into those bright blue eyes.
‘I’ve a short sword for you, as well, should the need arise,’ Nicholas said. Emery nodded again, but Guy sputtered in protest.
‘Surely that is not necessary, my lord,’ the squire said, with a shocked expression.
‘Even a child can hack with a sword if cornered,’ Nicholas said. While only knights and those attending them were trained in the use of such weapons, ’twas better to be armed rather than not, if they were waylaid by Gwayne or any of the brigands who preyed upon the roads.
‘But ’tis dangerous! Emery might...get hurt,’ Guy said.
‘I hardly think the boy will cut himself,’ Nicholas answered. And when Guy looked as though he might say more, Nicholas lifted his brows, effectively putting an end to the discussion.
* * *
Muttering to himself, as was his wont lately, Guy had kept shaking his head long after they had left Roode behind. And several times during the morning’s ride, he seemed ready to broach some subject, only to fall silent. Nicholas wasn’t sure whether his squire was worried about Emery or jealous of the boy, but either way, he did not want to be distracted by petty disputes.
After what the priest had said about Gwayne, Nicholas was more concerned with the Templar, who might still be roaming the area. But they saw no other travellers, only the occasional shepherd or freeman. Despite the stunning vistas, the moors were a lonely place and he would not mind leaving them behind.
Abruptly, Nicholas wondered what Emery thought and if he ever had a desire to journey away from his home. As usual, the young man was quiet, perhaps even more so today. Now that he had his own mount, Emery seemed to keep to himself, so when he approached, Nicholas felt absurdly pleased, an uncomfortable reaction at best. What the devil ailed him? Nicholas wondered again.
‘Montbard Manor lies beyond these trees, my lord,’ Emery said, gesturing towards the copse of elms ahead. ‘If you please, I will wait for you within the wood. I have no love for my uncle and fear that my presence, indeed, the mere mention of me, might compromise the search for Gerard.’
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed, for he did not see how a stranger would have more success than a relative in the hunt for a missing member of the family. ‘Why would your uncle speak freely to me of Gerard’s whereabouts?’
‘Because you are a de Burgh,’ Emery said, his mouth twisting wryly. ‘And Harold is nothing if not ambitious, hungry to associate with the wealthy and powerful.’
Nicholas frowned. Personally, he was not wealthy or powerful, but his name was known and honoured, and if that would gain Harold’s trust, then he would use it. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will make no mention of you, only that I am bound to help Gerard, which is true enough.’
Emery’s relief was obvious and Nicholas sensed there was more to the story than the boy was telling. However, they could not linger here, else they be marked. With a nod, Nicholas urged them onwards into the trees.
Yet he found himself reluctant to leave the boy behind. He was struck by the notion that Emery might disappear in their absence, whether by his own accord or someone else’s. While Nicholas and Guy could take care of themselves, Emery seemed ill experienced in the ways of the world and a short sword would do little against a determined foe. So Nicholas hesitated, his destrier growing restive, until Emery’s blue gaze met his own.
‘I’ll be fine,’ the boy said, as though reading his thoughts, and Nicholas looked away, feeling foolish. Setting his mouth into a firm line, he left the copse, with Guy not far behind.
But his uneasiness continued. Like Temple Roode, Montbard seemed unusually quiet. Of course, Harold could have gone travelling, taking most of the servants with him. ’Twould not be unusual, yet there was something about the silence that struck Nicholas with foreboding and he put his hand to the hilt of his sword.
‘The place seems deserted,’ Guy said, echoing his thoughts.
‘You wait here,’ Nicholas said. ‘Should anything happen, make sure that you take Emery with you to my brother Geoffrey’s home, as it is not too distant.’
‘No, my lord!’ Guy protested. ‘I am bound to you.’
Nicholas shook his head. Guy’s loyalty did him justice, but it surpassed his courage and they had Emery to consider now. Better that the two youths escape than endanger themselves for his sake, especially now.
‘I would be assured of your safety, though I do not expect trouble nor do I seek it,’ Nicholas said. And he spoke the truth. Normally, a manorial farm such as this one harboured no threats, but nothing since his encounter with Gerard Montbard had been normal. And there was always the possibility that Gwayne had followed up yesterday’s visit to the Hospitaller commandery with a stop here.
When Guy gave his reluctant assent, Nicholas dismounted, yet still no one came out to greet him. The building appeared ill tended and Nicholas wondered about the arrangement Emery had mentioned. If the land itself belonged to the commandery, Harold might lack the resources to properly maintain the house he had gained.
Unheralded, Nicholas walked to the stone archway that had once held a large door, but now served as a portal to a smaller entrance. It was into this dim passage that he moved cautiously, only to watch the heavy wood swing inwards at his approach.
Nicholas stepped back, ready to draw his weapon, but it seemed that an empty hall greeted him. Scanning the dim recesses of the interior, he was at a loss, for he knew no errant breeze could have moved the heavy wood. He waited warily, but when the door wobbled, at last he spied a presence. A small boy, hardly old enough to manage the door, peeked around it to gaze up at Nicholas wide-eyed.
Moving inside, Nicholas kept a wary eye on his surroundings, but all he saw were the same subtle signs of neglect. Had Harold fallen upon hard times, or had his
efforts won him a place to live and little else? Or was something more insidious responsible for Nicholas’s lack of welcome?
With no one else in attendance, Nicholas was forced to address the boy, who might be serving as a page, despite his apparent youth. ‘Please advise Master Montbard that Lord de Burgh seeks an audience.’
The child simply shook his head, forcing Nicholas to sink down on his haunches to face the lad directly. His manner had been formal, but now he spoke gently. ‘Is Master Montbard here?’
Again, the boy shook his head. ‘He’s gone searching for the parcel,’ the child said. ‘The parcel Gerard wanted.’
It was all Nicholas could do not to seize the boy at the casual mention of the man he was seeking, but he kept his tone even. ‘Gerard is here?’
The child shook his head again. ‘He was here, but he ran away.’
Nicholas tried not to react to the boy’s choice of words. ‘Has Master Montbard gone to find him?’
Once more, the child shook his head. ‘Master Montbard has gone to look for the parcel.’
‘What parcel?’ Nicholas asked.
‘The one that Gerard sent to Emery,’ the boy said. ‘So the master went to where Emery lives now.’
Where Emery lives now? Had Gerard returned there, as well? If so, he might be dismayed to find Emery gone. And he might be even more dismayed to find his uncle at his heels, especially if he ‘ran away’ from the man. Nicholas rose to his feet, eager to give chase himself, lest Gerard slip through his fingers yet again.
But the sound of approaching footsteps stopped him and Nicholas put a hand to the hilt of his sword, just in case Harold had returned and would take exception to a stranger in his hall. But the new arrival was only a plump, older woman, who appeared none too happy to see an armed knight looming over what might be her child.
From her dress and bearing, Nicholas could not tell whether she was a valued servant or poor relation, but he inclined his head in greeting. ‘I am Nicholas de Burgh and am seeking Gerard Montbard, a Hospitaller knight I have sworn to aid.’
The woman paled, presumably at the mention of
Gerard, who appeared to have left havoc in his wake, wherever he went.
‘He has been here?’ Nicholas asked, hoping for confirmation of what the boy had told him.
‘Yes, but he’s gone now,’ she said, as if eager for Nicholas to leave, as well. Was she just reticent, with the wariness of isolated folk? Or did she hesitate to speak without Harold’s approval? Nicholas wished that he had questioned Emery more fully about the household.
‘Do you know where I can find him?’ Nicholas asked. ‘He was ill at last report and in need of protection against a Templar knight who would do him harm.’
‘The Templar!’
Nicholas turned in surprise at the sound of the boy, who was quickly hushed by the woman. ‘Was a Templar knight here, as well?’ Nicholas asked.
The woman shook her head. ‘We know only that Gerard spoke of such a man. He was...ill. But he went away. We know not where.’
She was telling the truth, of that Nicholas was certain. But she was afraid, most likely of Harold, a man whom Nicholas was increasingly eager to question. Something or someone had sent Gerard fleeing from this place and that someone was probably Harold. Nicholas would take a grim pleasure in finding out.
‘Master Montbard had gone to the old gatehouse?’ he asked.
The woman’s eyes widened in surprise at his knowledge and Nicholas did not mention its source. ‘I am not at liberty to speak of the master’s whereabouts,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you will find him in residence at some later time.’
Obviously, Nicholas was not welcome to wait, which was just as well because his instincts were telling him the sooner he got to the gatehouse, the better. And if this Harold was so feared... Nicholas felt a sudden sharp concern for Emery and, with the barest of civilities, he left the manor, eager to assure himself of the boy’s safety.
Outside, he was relieved to find Guy, but he did not waste time reporting upon his odd encounters. He was too intent upon retrieving Emery and heading on to the boy’s home. Even if Gerard was not there, it appeared that Harold would be and Nicholas intended to find out why he was not searching for his ailing relative, but for a parcel that, by the page’s account, did not even belong to him.
Too late, Nicholas realised why Emery had been reluctant to accompany him here and his uneasiness about leaving the boy behind increased. He approached the wood warily. When he did not immediately spy Emery, his heart tripped in panic. Frantically, he scanned the area where they had left the boy until Guy pointed towards a gap in the leaves. His squire’s calm manner made Nicholas feel foolish and his jaw tightened as he peered into the foliage. Still, he felt giddy with relief when the nose of the palfrey appeared. He whistled softly and the animal nickered and moved towards them.
But its saddle was empty.
For a long moment, Nicholas stared, his emotions a mixture of dismay, anger and something unidentifiable. He was supposed to be one of the steadiest of the de Burghs and his brothers counted upon him to retain his reason in the midst of tumult. But right now he felt like howling his pain to the skies. And then, above the pounding of his heart, he heard a voice.
‘Here I am, my lord.’
The sound of Emery’s speech made Nicholas feel weak. Had the boy fallen? Nicholas looked at the ground only to realise that a rustling was coming from above. Lifting his head, Nicholas saw Emery nimbly swing from a limb to land upon his feet.
‘What the devil?’ The words burst from Nicholas as though the breath had been knocked from him.
‘Gerard and I grew up climbing these old elms,’ Emery said, flashing a smile.
Another time, Nicholas would have been glad to see a grin from the shy youth, but now his carelessness was not appreciated. Although this sort of prank smacked of his brothers’ antics, Nicholas was not amused.
Emery must have seen his thunderous expression, for the boy hastened to explain. ‘I—I feared discovery by...those at the manor and would hide myself, my lord, as well as watch the place from one of our old perches. All is quiet.’
Nicholas frowned, still displeased by the boy’s actions—or perhaps his own response to them. ‘That’s because Harold is on his way to you.’
‘What?’ The boy paled so visibly that Nicholas regretted his taunt.
‘It seems that your uncle has gone to your home, so let us see if we can find him there,’ Nicholas said, more gently.
But Emery shook his head. ‘I can’t, my lord. You go on and I shall wait here.’
Nicholas eyed the boy directly. ‘I’m not leaving without you,’ he said. Not again. He had no intention of reliving the past few moments any time soon.
Emery said nothing, as though afraid to argue, but unwilling to capitulate. Who would have guessed the youth’s mild manner hid a stubborn streak?
‘Think you that I cannot protect you from your uncle?’ Nicholas asked. Unless Harold boasted a guard of armed men, he was no match for a de Burgh, even this one.
Emery’s blue gaze met his, startling Nicholas with its intensity. ‘I think, my lord, that there are some things that even you cannot control.’
Nicholas looked away, the words too close to the truth for his comfort, a truth that this boy could hardly comprehend.
‘My lord—’ Guy started to speak, but Nicholas cut him off with a gesture.
‘We ride to the old gatehouse, as you referred to it,’ Nicholas said to Emery. ‘All of us. Once we near the place, you may hang back so that your uncle marks you not. Hell, you can even scale a tree, if it gives you comfort. But the three of us are not separating.’
Not now, Nicholas thought. Not yet.
Chapter Five
Emery had no choice but to go along, her newfound inde
pendence making her bristle at her companion’s display of heavy-handedness. He was a de Burgh, so, of course, he was arrogant, imperious and accustomed to getting his own way, qualities that tempted Emery to disobey. After all, this man held no sway over her; she answered to a different authority.
But he did not know that. And thoughts of the secret she kept close reminded Emery of the danger she was in, even now. She could not afford to leave Lord de Burgh even if she would. And would she? Although she had dismissed her increasing interest in the man as some sort of unwelcome infatuation, she could not deny the power of his words.
I’m not leaving without you. It was something Emery had never heard before, nor had she ever expected to hear it. Her father, her brother and all that she had held dear were gone and she had spent the past months alone. So she could not help being affected by the declaration, spoken with such fierce determination.
Nicholas de Burgh was strong, honourable, loyal and generous, so perhaps he could be forgiven for being too domineering. No doubt the de Burghs were bred to command, Emery decided. And so she followed, ignoring the nagging suspicion that she would go wherever he led.
But she stayed low in the saddle, as if she could hide from all who might be watching: her uncle, the Hospitallers or any who worked these lands. The Templar knight did not concern her; she had no doubt that Lord de Burgh could protect her against any attack. But what could he do should she be recognised?
As they neared her home, Emery felt less like her old self and more like the frightened woman she had become, fear of discovery making her duck her head and pull her cap low. She realised that few here remembered the days when she had dressed as her brother and even fewer would expect her to be riding with strangers, yet she could not slow the frantic beat of her heart.
* * *
Only when they reached the familiar structure did Emery’s anxiety ease, for there were no horses tethered nearby and she knew Harold would not have walked from Montbard. Nor would he have gone out without an attendant, for he liked to give the impression that he was a wealthy man. And perhaps he was. Emery knew few details of the arrangement he had made as her father lay dying.
