Thrill Of The Knight

by Julia Latham

  Philip gave a knowing smile. “Ah, the rumor about Rame Castle’s money flowing to him. I can honestly say, never once did he even receive a package from Rame, let alone money. And there were many evenings when the two of us were limited enough in funds to have to stay in questionable inns—or even in a room above taverns. Those are the worst.” He shook his head. “But Lady Elizabeth only has my word—and his. She will have to decide whether to believe us.”

  At least she knew that John inspired loyalty in this man. “Sir John tells me he enjoys the adventure of travel.”

  “I never saw a man who loved it more. I cared about the sleepless nights spent above a raucous tavern—not him. He was even content sleeping under the stars.”

  “But did he not miss his home, his family?”

  Philip hesitated. “He was the youngest son, Anne. Not much was expected of him, and I think he felt the need to prove himself. He had to support himself as well, for everything went to his brother when their parents died.”

  “I hear the disapproval in your voice, Philip, but you only know what Sir John has told you about his brother.”

  “That is true. And it’s not that Sir John expected the estate. He was just incredibly disappointed to see in how little esteem his brother held it.”

  Elizabeth gritted her teeth. “You don’t know—”

  “Your mistress must have been quite in love to defend William so passionately to you.”

  She didn’t like the kindness in his voice. She felt pitied. “My lady’s first betrothed is not what I’m here to discuss.”

  “Nay, you want to discuss my friend. And you cannot believe anything I say,” he answered, the amusement fading from his voice. “I can only tell you that I was at his side when he saw the condition of his estate, and the unjust hatred in his people’s eyes when they looked at him.”

  “And that might only be proof that he did not realize how his actions affected Rame Castle.”

  “Or that William didn’t care about the results of his actions. John—Sir John gave all he had to begin the restoration.”

  “Guilt?”

  “Duty and honor,” Philip said coolly.

  “I am sorry if I have offended you.”

  “You are only doing your lady’s bidding,” he answered, visibly relaxing.

  “Did you ever meet Sir John’s brother?”

  “Nay, and there again, I only know what I’ve been told. I am not of much use to your mistress.”

  “Your loyalty says much.”

  “Hmm, a diplomatic answer. Are you certain you are only a lady’s maid?”

  She nodded, trying not to feel guilty for protecting herself.

  “Has Sir John told you that we might have more help on the way?” he asked.

  She straightened with interest. “What do you mean?”

  He lowered his voice. “Have you ever heard of the League of the Blade?”

  “I have heard the name, but nothing specific. Maybe my father once mentioned it.”

  His excitement was palpable. “Was he helped by them?”

  She frowned, remembering that her father was supposed to be a farmer. “Not that I know of. They…help people?”

  “They’re a secret organization dedicated to justice. I have heard about them my whole life, and finally Sir John and I met a member in person.”

  “Philip,” said a deep voice.

  Startled, Elizabeth turned around to see John only several paces away from them, leaning on his crutch. She’d been so busy studying Philip’s every expression, that she hadn’t been paying attention. Anyone could have overheard them. She felt queasy at the thought.

  And then she wondered if John was bothered that she was alone with his friend, even though it was in front of the entire inner ward. When he looked at her, she felt the force of his gaze like a physical touch. She reminded herself of her suspicions and his desperation. Logically, she knew these things, but her body did not want to obey, and still craved his embrace.

  Philip folded his arms across his chest. “A good morning to you, Sir John.”

  Softly, John said, “You should not have filled her head with fairy tales.”

  “The League is not real?” she said, looking between them.

  “Of course it’s real,” Philip answered. “We met a member only days ago, on our way here. You could have told her,” he said to his friend.

  John rolled his eyes. “And allowed Lady Elizabeth to hope for a miraculous rescue?”

  “They said they were going to help her,” Philip said angrily. “’Tis you—”

  When Philip stopped himself, John sighed. “Aye, it’s me whose worth the stranger questioned.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “You can see why I worry about presenting myself to the king, when even strangers who claim to be part of a legend believe the rumors about me.”

  She was surprised at this disagreement between them, yet she was a practical woman, and hoping for help from a mysterious League seemed foolish.

  But Philip turned back to her with interest. “They’ll learn how trustworthy Sir John is; never fear. After all, the League helped the king gain his throne from King Richard.”

  “Or perhaps his own army did?” John said pleasantly, as if this was a longstanding disagreement between them.

  Philip smiled and shook his head. “Someday I’ll have proof. Until then, the fact that I’ve met a Bladesman convinces me they’re real.”

  John turned to Elizabeth. “A stranger told us he was going to offer you aid. Has he?”

  She looked between John’s skepticism and Philip’s anticipation. “I have met no one who—but wait, Sir John, you told me you had not lowered the basket of food to my lady’s tower.”

  Philip stood up and spoke to John. “You didn’t tell me about this. Of course it is the League!”

  John groaned. “This is the reason I didn’t tell you. One of Lady Elizabeth’s servants probably wanted to help her, and you’re making it out to be more than it is.”

  “But only a Bladesman would risk his life to do such a thing!”

  “You’re risking your life for Sir John and for my lady,” Elizabeth pointed out.

  “You are just as skeptical as he is,” Philip said, although he didn’t seem offended. “I will leave you two to laugh behind my back.”

  John shook his head as he watched his friend leave. “And how is Lady Elizabeth this morn?”

  She lowered her gaze. “As well as can be expected.”

  “I have a missive for her.”

  He looked around, keeping his body between her and the knights at the tiltyard. He pulled a folded, sealed piece of parchment from within his tunic—not the same one that his men had delivered yesterday—and handed it to her.

  It bothered her that she noticed it was warm from his body.

  “I will take it to her,” she murmured, sliding it into the purse hung from the belt at her waist. She was almost disappointed to have to wait for the midday meal to read it aloud. She would be patient and hope that he explained within the letter what his men had contacted him about.

  John remained still, standing above her. “You are well?”

  She frowned at him. “You saw me but yesterday eve.” But she knew what he meant—he was wondering if she’d forgiven him. She would never be his “friend,” so there was no point beginning.

  “I—” Then a strange expression came over his face, and he limped back a step. “That is good. We do not need to go to Hillesley today. I look forward to your mistress’s response. Good day.”

  John began to walk away, berating his foolishness. He had seen Anne and Philip alone together, talking earnestly, and something inside him had twisted painfully. Logically, he knew she was only discovering the truth about him for Lady Elizabeth.

  He told himself that Anne was not his, that she and Philip could very well become—

  That was as far as his imagination wanted to take him. She was his conduit to Lady Elizabeth, and that was all.

  Although
Ogden and Parker had also used her to deliver their message. And it had been a good one—they had located Alderley’s army. Though dispirited, the soldiers were performing their task, ridding outlying areas of thieves. Ogden and Parker should tell them that the road to Hillesley needed their protection, John thought wryly. But Alderley’s captain of the guard was not inclined to believe the word of two men-at-arms about John and his purpose. The man wanted proof that their mistress approved of John, that they should do his bidding.

  And proof meant that John would have to persuade Lady Elizabeth to give it. But not in his first letter. It would take time for her to forgive him for his conduct with Anne.

  Anne. Even thinking of her name made him feel guilty. It would be better for everyone if she found her own life, her own home, because it would be too awkward if she remained here when he married.

  But a life with Philip?

  He heard footsteps before he could limp too far.

  “Sir John?” Anne called.

  He turned to find her near.

  She linked her hands together, and though she seemed peaceful, he sensed she kept nervousness at bay.

  “Sir John, you did not ask me if I told my mistress of our kiss. I did.”

  Though no one was near, he looked about and then stepped closer. Perhaps he should be the nervous one, but he felt only wary. “I appreciate that you were honest with her. What was her response?”

  To his surprise, she stepped even closer, laying a hand on his chest. He could feel the weight of her regard, soft and hesitant, the warmth of her palm even through his garments.

  And though he fought to control himself, a shudder moved through him that she must surely have felt. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him.

  “She wants to know if she should ever be able to trust that you will be loyal to her, that you can control yourself in all situations.”

  Though he breathed deeply, he forced himself to pretend her hand was not on his body. “Just yesterday morn, Anne, you attempted to conduct your own test—and punishment as well. I did not react then, and I won’t react now. One apology should suffice for you, and if your mistress wants further explanation, all she has to do is ask me when we meet. Is she still willing to consider my help?”

  “She will consider it. Reading your words will help.”

  “Then I await her response.”

  He stepped back from her hand and walked away. Feeling the first trickle of perspiration down his temples, he was glad that Anne had not seen it. He didn’t blame her for her repeated tests of his resolve; for all he knew, her mistress had encouraged it. But when he returned to his bedchamber, he poured water into a basin and splashed his face.

  Elizabeth brought the midday meal to the tower and found Anne staring morosely out the solar window. She hadn’t even seemed to realize that Elizabeth was there.

  “Anne?” Elizabeth said, setting down the tray.

  The maid gave a start, and then put on a smile that was patently false, but so honest with its need to cheer Elizabeth, that she felt her throat tighten.

  “Ah, another meal,” Anne said. “I am famished.”

  “No more baskets?”

  “Nay, probably because I stick my head out and look up so often that my benefactor can’t risk it.”

  “I imagine you also look out the window often, wishing you were free,” Elizabeth said in a low voice.

  Anne sighed and took her hand. “I regret nothing. And it is amazing what one sees from the window. I saw you this morn, near the tiltyard.”

  “How could you tell it was me, from so high up?”

  “You are wearing one of my gowns, are you not?” Anne said dryly. “And that terrible wimple—how could Lord Russell even want to kiss you?”

  Elizabeth laughed halfheartedly. “I was questioning John’s friend. His name is Sir Philip Clifford. John caught us together, but he seemed to understand.”

  “Ah, if only I could see their faces,” Anne said, her hand clutching the windowsill. “I sit here, watching the people move about below, and imagine each person’s life—dinner in the great hall, an argument with a parent, even mass. It helps keep me amused.”

  “You know that if this is too much for you, I will—”

  “Nay!” Anne said heatedly. “This is the most important thing I’ve yet done with my life. Together we will make this work.”

  Elizabeth drew forth John’s missive.

  “But will we have help?” Anne asked thoughtfully. “Is that a message from Lord Russell to you?”

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “Are you going to read it?”

  “I have to.” She looked down at the missive and sighed.

  Anne walked toward her. “You are getting tired of the lie. Why do you not tell him the truth?”

  “Because…” She stiffened and forced herself to speak firmly. “Because I don’t know him well enough.” In her mind she saw him defending her against thieves. He had risked his life, but perhaps it was only to persuade her? “Talking to his friend proved no help at all. How do I know he is not lying, too? Although Philip was glad to hear of your mysterious basket. Apparently he’s been looking for validation about this League of the Blade, and he feels they’re helping us. John—Lord Russell disagrees. It seems he is a skeptic.”

  “Then read his words and decide,” Anne said eagerly. “I’ll eat my meal and leave you to read in private.”

  “There can be nothing here that you can’t see. I’ll read it aloud.” Elizabeth broke the seal and opened the parchment. John wrote in a legible, bold hand. “‘To the Lady Elizabeth: By now you have heard of the lengths I have gone to be of help to you. I would have preferred to come to you with a great army to convince Lord Bannaster that challenging me would be a grave error. Yet I understand from your maid that you wish no violence, no chance for injury to your people. Your need for peace is commendable, although shortsighted. It reveals a soft, womanly attribute that I admire.’”

  Elizabeth stopped to roll her eyes.

  “He’s trying to praise you,” Anne offered cheerfully.

  “He does not have the way with words his brother did,” Elizabeth said.

  Anne opened her mouth. Before she could speak, Elizabeth continued, “Aye, I know they were not raised in the same way.”

  “Imagine leaving home at sixteen to go off to another country.”

  “I left home at ten to escape the persecution of men who wanted my inheritance,” Elizabeth reminded her.

  “But you were beloved and adored. And you were only gone a year, fostered as girls usually are. It sounds as if Lord Russell was left to fend for himself.”

  “He was,” she agreed reluctantly.

  “And he has honor, to risk his life to complete an oath made by his father to yours.”

  “And the result will be my money, my castle, my father’s title, and me in his bed,” Elizabeth said sourly.

  Anne smiled. “Not such a terrible prospect for you. You enjoyed his kiss, even when you knew you should not. Is that not the same for him?”

  “I cannot stand when you make sense.” Elizabeth sighed. “Let me finish reading. ‘Although my estate has come to harm, I vow that I will rebuild it anew to be a shining jewel on the edge of the ocean that I bring to you in marriage. Please forgive my brother’s role in this neglect. He was always a man at home in the king’s court, and I am certain he thought he would have the chance to make things right before your marriage.’” Elizabeth looked up. “I don’t agree that poor William committed this sin!”

  “But at least he’s defending his brother, and vowing to repair everything. Read on.”

  “‘In closing, my lady, please believe that I am here with the best intentions. Forgive me that I could not arrive sooner and save you from Lord Bannaster’s machinations. I promise that with the aid of my men, I will do my best to free you and bring about our fathers’ wishes. Yours in peace, John Russell.’” She glanced at Anne. “He has a plan, but he doesn’t wish me to know it ye
t, not until he can say with certainty. And he didn’t tell me what was in the message sent by his friends!”

  “He is protective of you.”

  Elizabeth carefully put the letter on a table and looked at it with indecision. He expected a reply, but she didn’t know what to give. There was no poetry, no praise, no attempt to woo her, and no declarations of affection. She didn’t know what to make of it.

  Yet the words sounded like the man she was growing to know, single-minded in his determination to make things right, a man who would have himself beaten as an adequate reason to remain at Castle Alderley.

  “How are you going to respond?” Anne asked. “He seems to be trying to win your approval.”

  “I know he is,” Elizabeth replied sadly. “He is trying by deed and now written word. But I have not grown to trust him, Anne. I have known him only a few days. How will I know when I can believe him?”

  “My mother always said to watch a man’s behavior when he doesn’t know you’re watching. He’ll reveal all.”

  “But he knows when I’m watching—we’re with each other all the time. Milburn is keeping us together. Surely I would begin to trust him if I knew absolutely he was who he says he is.”

  “You still do not believe?”

  “Perhaps I do, but I cannot trust my own intuition anymore. He made me doubt myself, and now I cannot resurrect trust in my impressions. But if I saw the ring, if I knew without doubt that he is my betrothed, perhaps I could begin to accept a future with him.”

  “Then ask him to show it to you. If you’re worried about being a mere maid, say that I asked you to do this.”

  Though the ring might help her believe, she could not ask him to show it to her. He might become suspicious, and she was not yet ready to reveal her identity.

  “So are you going to write back?” Anne asked.

  “Should I? What if he is caught with it? It will implicate him as a man against Lord Bannaster.”

  Anne smiled knowingly. “I think you know not what to say.”