Byron looked at the knight, seeing the fury on his normally emotionless face, and he merely shook his head.
“It is a perfect place to hide the girl, and her sister as well,” he told him. “Moreover, you brought this upon yourself when you volunteered to protect her. Her father demands you keep your word. He is very worried for her.”
Keir was close to exploding. His granite jaw ticked furiously and he looked away, struggling not to open his mouth and spill forth the refusal he was feeling with every fiber of his body.
“I should not have said what I did,” he hissed.
“Are you going back on your word? I find that astonishing.”
Keir faltered. His word was stronger than anyone else’s in the north of England and he had made damn sure to cement that careful reputation. He never said anything he did not mean and a vow from St. Héver was bankable. He had the trust of everyone he had ever met, fought with or served. It was perhaps the strongest part of a strong man, something he did not wish to see damaged even in something as small as this. It was his crutch, his curse, his pride. After several long moments, he sighed heavily.
“I only said that I should not have said it,” he clarified. “I did not say that I did not mean it. I said it because the girl was terrified. She had just seen her castle ripped apart and men killed all because a jilted suitor could not stomach her denial. I said it to bring her comfort.”
Byron was not oblivious to the things young men said in overwhelming situations. He drew in a deep, thoughtful breath and tried to rein his excitable jennet close to Keir so that he could speak and not be heard by others.
“The Lady Chloë de Geld is one of the most sought-after women in all of England, a beauty without compare, but I do not suppose you noticed that,” he glanced at Keir only to note the man facing straight ahead, features like stone. He continued. “Her father is understandably worried about her and he knows you by reputation. He has asked that you hold true to your vow to protect his daughter and I have agreed. Whatever feelings you have in this matter, Keir, put them aside and do the duty you are bred to do. Ingilby is a despicable, corrupt man with an earl for an uncle. Should Ingilby call upon his uncle for support, I worry for my old friend de Geld. He would not be able to hold Ingilby off that being the case and we would be drawn into a nasty conflict. Do I make myself clear, Keir?”
Keir’s jaw ticked with displeasure and his big body stiffened, all physical signs of his disapproval of the assignment, yet he kept his mouth shut. Coverdale was correct. He had brought it upon himself when he had vowed to protect the woman. There was nothing more he could say.
“You do, my lord,” he replied steadily.
Byron smiled. “Good lad,” he said. “Anton will be pleased. Who knows? Perhaps you will come to appreciate the lady with time. She is quite a beauty and of marriageable age and you, my friend, are in need of a wife.”
It was all Keir could do not to take the man’s head off. As Coverdale reined his skittish stallion around and headed back along the column, Keir ground his teeth so hard in frustration that he ended up biting his lip.
CHAPTER FIVE
“This place is desolation personified,” Cassandra hissed. “Look at it – the castle is in the middle of nowhere. We may as well be on the moon!”
Wrapped in the heavy, dusty brown cloak that had been her companion for three long and weary days, Chloë could see the dark stoned edifice of Pendragon Castle in the distance. It had been raining on and off all night and now, a few hours past dawn, the skies were clearing somewhat. The landscape of Cumbria was very green and very wet, and great pools of muddy water dotted the rutted road that led from Aysgarth Castle to Pendragon and points north. Astride a little gray mare, Chloë directed the horse around the puddles, following the enormous chargers up ahead and being followed by about one hundred men-at-arms to the rear.
“You could have stayed with Father and Mother,” she told her sister. “You did not have to come with me to the ends of the earth. It is me they are trying to distance from Exelby, not you.”
Cassandra lifted an eyebrow at her sister, younger by just over one year. “As if they would send you to a remote castle without a chaperone,” she replied, her brown eyes drifting to the trio of knights at the head of their party. “I would not leave you alone with three handsome knights. They will be challenging each other for your affections by tomorrow.”
Chloë knew her sister was jesting but she was in no mood for it. Morose, she looked away just as a big black charger whirled around and headed in their direction. The horse kicked up rocks and mud, spraying the women as he came to a halt. The knight flipped up his visor.
“My ladies,” Michael’s voice was soft, deep. “We will be arriving at Pendragon shortly.”
Cassandra lifted a mocking eyebrow at the handsome knight with the cornflower blue eyes. “We can see that.”
He ignored the sharp tongue. “Do you have any questions or concerns I might address at this time?” he asked politely.
“Indeed we do,” she said almost immediately. “We have no clothing or personal items to speak of, as most of them were confiscated from Exelby and we were not permitted to return to gather what was left. We have been traveling and sleeping in the clothing on our backs for two days. This is a serious problem.”
Chloë interrupted her snappish sister. “Cassie, please,” she begged softly, turning her radiant beauty to the blue-eyed knight. “You are doing all you can to make us safe and comfortable, and we appreciate your effort. But Father has given us some coinage and, at some point very soon, we should request escort to the nearest town of merchants where we may purchase some basic necessities that were lost in the siege. Would that be possible, my lord?”
Michael had only wanted to speak with the blond sister again, as he’d had little opportunity since their flight from Exelby, but he could see she was in no mood for his company. Her sister, however, was tactful and sweet, not to mention outrageously beautiful. He found himself focused on the redhead.
“That will be Sir Keir’s decision, my lady, but I am sure he would graciously comply,” he told her, eyeing the blond to see that she was deliberately looking away from him. “I will take the matter up with him.”
“If it would not be too much to ask, my lord,” Chloë said politely.
Michael shook his head and gave her a weak smile. His gaze kept returning to Cassandra but she refused to look at him. Chloë could see his interest, and her sister’s stubbornness, and she fought off a smile. She didn’t feel so moody any longer with the delicious opportunity to tease her sister.
“I do not know your name, my lord,” she said. “You helped rescue us from our compromised chamber at Exelby.”
Michael nodded. “I am Sir Michael of Pembury,” he replied. “And you, dear lady, smashed my fingers.”
Chloë laughed, a beautiful and captivating gesture. “Only in self-protection, I assure you,” she said. “I do hope I did not break anything.”
Michael shook his head. “You did not.”
“But it bloody well hurt,” Chloë put in, repeating his words.
Michael broke out in a smile. He was a very handsome man with his dark hair and bright blue eyes, a rugged and strong beauty about him. He was also the tallest man that Chloë had ever seen; she well remembered the man’s sheer size.
“It did,” he admitted, “but I have since recovered. You did worse to Keir.”
Chloë’s gaze moved to the head of the column where Keir and another knight rode in strong silence. She realized that it made her heart flutter simply to look at the man, even though he’d hardly spoken a word to her since rescuing her from the chamber two days before. It seemed that when he came around her, he couldn’t get away fast enough. It began to occur to her that he must have an aversion to her, more than likely from the fact that she had nearly broken his fingers and gouged his eyes out upon their initial acquaintance. As realization dawned, her good mood fled.
“I did,” she
sighed heavily. “I am sure he will never forgive me for it, for which I am truly sorry. In any case, it is nice to make your acquaintance, Sir Michael.”
“And yours, my lady.”
With a lingering look at Cassandra, who still refused to look at him, Michael spurred his charger back to the front of the column.
The remainder of the trip was uneventful. They arrived at Pendragon, a great square bastion on a fortified hill surrounded by earthworks, a series of tall walls, causeways and a great moated ditch.
It wasn’t a particularly large castle but it was very tall, well protected and well-fortified. As they drew upon it, Chloë gazed up at the dark gray stone, stained wet from the storms, thinking of the wife and daughter that St. Héver had lost within these massive walls. She couldn’t imagine any army penetrating walls such as these.
The castle was built on a fortified mound with a series of earthworks and ditches, and they crossed great elevated causeways between the moats once they were within the enormous circular wall that surrounded the place. They had to pass between a series of mounds, all designed to make an incoming enemy vulnerable to those protecting the castle.
Finally passing through the portcullised entry, they entered a very small bailey. Living quarters and towers were built into the tall exterior walls, including a very tall box-shaped keep that was built into the southwest corner of the structure. There were wooden stairs everywhere, leading up into the towers as well as the keep. Narrow wooden walkways bordered the top of the walls.
As Chloë gazed at the guts of the towering structure, she began to notice scorch marks everywhere – around the keep windows, upon the walls, near the portcullis. Burn marks were heavy and frequent, a reminder perhaps of the terrible siege three years prior. She didn’t dare ask St. Héver, who had dismounted his charger and was shouting orders to the men as he made his way back to where the women were still mounted near the portcullis.
As he approached, Chloë couldn’t help but notice that he had not made eye contact with her, in any fashion. It convinced her more and more that the man wanted nothing to do with her as a result of their rough beginning and her disappointment was growing. She watched him until he came to stand next to her, still snapping orders to the men around him. Without a word to her, and still speaking to his soldiers, he reached down and pulled her foot from the stirrup. Then he extended his enormous arms and scooped her out of the saddle.
Heart beating loudly against her ribs at his closeness, Chloë wrapped her arms around his big neck as he carried her across the muddy bailey towards the keep. Over her shoulder, she could hear Cassandra’s voice and she glanced back to see her sister arguing with Pembury. The big knight was apparently trying to offer his services to help the lady across the foul bailey but Cassandra was being stubborn about it. Chloë suspected it was all for show, for she’d never known her sister to show such attention, good or bad, to any man. Perhaps there was something more going on than Cassandra would admit. Fighting off a grin, Chloë returned her attention to St. Héver and the approaching keep.
The man was so close that she could see the stubble on his face and the pores of his skin. He had thick, dark blond eyelashes, the same dark blond color as his hair and eyebrows, and unnaturally pale blue eyes. He was focused on the keep ahead and still hadn’t said a word to her. Once they reached the steps, Keir set her to her feet.
“If you will go up the stairs, there is an entry hall that should have a warm fire blazing,” he told her.
Chloë simply nodded and Keir actually met her eye for the first time in two days. When their gazes locked, she felt a shock go through her, something that made her heart race even faster. She wasn’t sure if he felt it also but he lowered his gaze quickly, too quickly, and turned back for the bailey. Perhaps he felt it and didn’t want to. Chloë reached out and stopped him.
“My lord,” she said politely. “May… may I have a word with you?”
Keir paused and exhaled heavily; she could see it. He turned to look at her again, his expression cold and guarded.
“Of course, my lady,” he said with strained patience. “How may I be of service?”
Now she had his attention, suddenly self-conscious and the least bit nervous. She pulled the cloak more tightly about her slight figure, thinking on how to phrase what she must say. She could only think of one way to say it – the truth.
“I am sorry that my sister and I are here,” she said softly. “Surely the last thing you need at a garrison is two women and I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience. Please know it was not my idea and given the choice, I would happily return to Exelby so as not to be a burden on your good graces.”
Keir stared at her, feeling the resurgence of the warm emotions he had experienced two days ago, the ones that had scared the hell out of him. Now they were back with a vengeance as he gazed at her porcelain skin and cold-pinked cheeks framed by that glorious deep red hair. It was at that moment that he noticed she cut her hair rather oddly, as she had a fringe of bangs across her forehead, framing her face and eyes, something that only made her more angelic in his opinion. It was strange but wholly attractive. He was under her spell and slipping fast.
“No need to apologize, my lady,” he said, averting his gaze because he was afraid to look at her any longer. “I know it was not your doing. We will do our best to ensure your comfort and protection.”
Chloë’s heart sank as he averted his eyes, unable to stomach the sight of her. “You do not like me very much, do you?”
Keir’s head snapped up, his ice blue eyes riveted to her with surprise. “I… I do not know what you mean, my lady.”
She smiled faintly, such a beautiful and delicate gesture. “Aye, you do, but you are too much of a gentle knight to say so,” she took a step towards him, her face uplifted to meet his. “I was rude and belligerent when we first met and I realize that you must have come to the conclusion that I am a petulant and terrible woman. I did not mean to offend you when you rescued my sister and me from our chamber, truly. I was simply afraid and reacting in kind. I thought I was defending myself. I hope with time you can forgive me and at least tolerate the sight of me. I should not like to make you uncomfortable and unhappy with my presence within the walls of your very own keep.”
Keir stared at her as her words sank in. It began to occur to him how his behavior must be affecting her, the coldness and the sense of self protection that he must be projecting. He could see that she was very concerned for his feelings and it touched him deeply, softening him in a way he had never before been softened. The poor woman had just survived a siege only to be taken from her home and traipsed across miles of bad weather and inhospitable land by a bitter and sullen knight.
Even though she frightened him and he sincerely did not want her at Pendragon, it did not excuse his behavior towards her. Gazing into her deep brown eyes, he sighed faintly.
“Nay, lady,” he said softly, reaching out to take her hand. “It is I who should apologize. You have not, at any time, offended me. Please forgive me if I have offended you with my surly behavior. It is not directed at you.”
Chloë’s heart leapt as he held her hand gently. She grasped his hand and held it tightly. “Are you sure you are not angry with me for attempting to blind you?” she teased softly.
He broke out in a crooked smile. “Nay,” he answered. “I could never be angry with you.”
“Not even when I am deliberately wicked and stubborn?”
He laughed softly. “I do not believe you have those capabilities, my lady. You look like an angel incarnate and I choose to believe that you are as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside.”
She gave him a devilish expression. “Foolish mortal,” she jested. “You shall come to regret that statement.”
He laughed again, a liberating experience considering he hadn’t laughed like that in three years. Not since Madeleine passed. There had been nothing to laugh at, not until this very moment with this exquisite creature in
front of him. He realized that it made his heart light simply to look at her. His ice blue eyes twinkled.
“I do not think so,” he told her. “But just so you know, I am not beyond spanking she who needs to be spanked.”
Chloë put her hands on her hips in mock outrage. “Did my father give you permission to do that?”
Keir winked at her. “I do not need his permission. You are my ward and if you need to be punished, I will not hesitate to do it.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
She gave him a very doubtful, yet very flirtatious, expression. “We shall see, Sir Keir.”
Keir was swept off his feet by her charm. He should have fought it with all his might but he couldn’t seem to manage it. Grinning, he pointed up the stairs.
“Perhaps,” was all he would say. “Go inside now. It is warm in there. I will join you shortly.”
Chloë’s eyes were glittering, like brilliant stars against the black expanse of night. “Promise?”
He shouldn’t have responded to the flirt. He should have remained professional and steadfast, letting his fear and resistance do the talking for him. But he simply couldn’t do it. She was breaking him down and he was letting her. After a moment, he simply nodded his head.
“Promise.”
As she smiled and turned up the stairs, he would remember her warm, inviting expression as long as he lived.
*
The hall of Pendragon, like everything else at the castle, had been built against one of the massive exterior walls. It was reached by an expansive arched stone doorway, well protected with its own iron grate and bolts that led to a flight of squat stone stairs rising up into the hall above. The ground floor held the kitchens and stores and there were two hidden staircases that led from the kitchen to the hall above. It was a big, functional hall that smelled to the rafters of smoke and wet dogs.
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