England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  *

  They were on the road north before noon. Avalyn had decided against riding her big bay colt, the very same horse that had caused her introduction to Brogan, instead choosing to ride in a small cab that was a gift from her future husband. Pulled by a matching team of white horses, it was rather confined but comfortable. Moreover, it gave her an excuse not to ride next to her intended. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts and did not want to have to be a part of Aubrey’s attempts, though kind, to come to know her better. She just wanted to be left to herself.

  Strangely, that sentiment didn’t seem to extend to William. Her uncle had agreed to allow Inglesbatch to accompany her and she kept him around her like a shield, watching him puff up every time Aubrey’s captain came around. Though most of what Avalyn knew of Barton St. John was his hair-pulling and interrogation tactics, he seemed almost cordial as the party bound for Merseyside completed its assembly. Charles, of course, couldn’t seem to do enough for the lady as they prepared to leave. He was very nearly groveling at her feet the entire time and Avalyn was very quickly coming to feel some distaste for him; he was coming across as weak and spineless, though his behavior during her interrogation told her otherwise. Having thrown himself between St. John and William when the men started fighting, she knew that Charles was stronger, and more fierce, than he let on.

  But it still did nothing to erase her distaste of him from her lips. When the party was complete, all trunks loaded and a contingent of forty de Neville men in place for the lady’s comfort, Charles mounted his fat gray Belgian warmblood and the party moved out.

  Avalyn was not surprised that her family had not come out to bid her farewell. Perhaps it was a last note at their displeasure in her actions; she suspected it was her uncle’s decision alone as a show of his disapproval. With all she had meant to the man, for as close as they had been, she found his absence stinging. Glazing up in the windows of the apartments, she saw Isobel and young Anne with their faces pressed against the windows, tears on their faces. They waved wildly when they saw they had Avalyn’s attention. She waved back and blew kisses. Standing next to Isobel was her aunt; the woman gazed emotionlessly back at her niece as the carriage began to pull away. Just when Avalyn was nearly out of eyeshot, her aunt blew her a gentle kiss. That gesture alone caused Avalyn to crumble completely. Even if Richard would shun her, Anne would not.

  Sobbing softly into her kerchief, she noticed little as the cab pulled out of the tower and traveled the road that would take them to the main highway north and west. As the party paralleled the Thames, she gazed over the water, watching the cloudy sunlight play off of the ripples. It was spring and the ground was just coming to life after a particularly hard winter; patches of green dotted the gray landscape, grew in gutters and on patches on thatched roofs. Somehow, the weather reminded her of her feelings; mostly gray with patches of green. There was hope among the desolation. Something deep inside her had sprouted and would not give up without a fight. No matter how gray the world looked at the moment, she had to cling to that hope.

  She didn’t know how long a thick red charger was walking next to her. It seemed as if it had always been there but she was just coming to notice it. She could see a big red neck and head. Peering out of the window, she gazed up into Inglesbatch’s strong, round face. His big blue eyes gazed at her steadily through his raised visor.

  “Does my lady require anything?” he asked pleasantly.

  She shook her head. “I just wanted to see if you were there.”

  “I am.”

  “Where are we stopping for the night?”

  William’s gaze moved to the head of the column where St. John and Aubrey rode. “Beaconfield. Perhaps even as far as Wyecomb if the weather and stamina hold out. But I believe your fiancé is concerned with your health and will leave the decision to you.”

  “Has Aubrey said anything to you about my disappearance this morning?”

  He shook his head. “No more than he said to your uncle.”

  Avalyn thought back to that moment a few hours ago. She and William had barely made it back to the Tower when Aubrey happened upon them, sitting on a carved bench in the courtyard of the White Tower. It had been a good cover; they made it seem as if they had been sitting there, talking, for quite some time and Aubrey hadn’t been the wiser. “What more could he say when he found us sitting in the courtyard of the Tower speaking of the weather?” she asked rhetorically.

  “Nothing.”

  “Do you think my uncle suspects you?”

  “My trust with your uncle has been long established. I hope that he would believe that I found you in the courtyard and kept you with me to prevent you from doing anything foolish.”

  “Do you think that’s why he agreed to let you accompany me to Guerdley Cross?”

  “You told your aunt that you were afraid of St. John. I believe it was Lady Anne that convinced him to send me for your protection.”

  Avalyn fell silent a moment, thinking how much William had done for her over the past day. He had always been loyal. But his behavior over the past several hours went beyond normal loyalty. She had no idea how she could ever thank the man.

  “Just as long as you are not suspect,” she said quietly. “That is all I am concerned with at this moment.”

  William lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps I am not suspect, but all eyes are still on you. Even if Lord Aubrey is willing to overlook your behavior where it pertains to d’Aurilliac, St. John isn’t. The man is no fool.”

  “He is loyal to Charles just as you are loyal to me. I do not fault him his loyalty.”

  William didn’t say what he was thinking, that he suspected the real trouble from this point would be Barton St. John. Though he did not personally know the man, he had a reputation for having the eyes of the hawk, the ears of a bat, and staunch loyalty to Warwick’s cause. He would bear watching.

  “How are you feeling?” William changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on darker things at the moment. “Do you feel strong enough to make it to Weycomb?”

  Avalyn shook her head. “Honestly, I would like it very much if we could stop in Beaconfield. I did not sleep last night and would like to find early rest this eve.”

  “As you wish.”

  “William?”

  “Aye, my lady?”

  “Do you think Brogan is all right?”

  He was silent a moment. “He is a warrior, my lady. He has learned to control his emotions over the years.”

  It wasn’t much of an answer. William suddenly spurred his charger forward and Avalyn watched the red beast’s butt as it flanked the troops in front of her, dirt flying from its hooves as it raced up the road. But she soon lost sight of the animal at the head of the party and she sat back in the cab, sighing heavily as the reality of the situation settled. She had never felt more alone.

  The settlement of Beaconfield was a larger village with an inn in the center of town called the Bright Pony. When Aubrey’s party pulled into town, St. John sent the men to the outskirts of the town to set up camp while he and Charles went into the inn to procure rooms for the night. William stayed with Avalyn, protected against the evening’s chill inside her cab. There were few words spoken between them, as they were both exhausted from a day and night without sleep. Avalyn’s exhaustion was more mental than physical.

  Charles and Barton emerged from the one-storied inn a short time later and approached the cab. William eyed Barton, standing very close to the cab door and refusing to move as if to provide a physical barrier between Avalyn and Aubrey’s man. But both Charles and Barton were quietly congenial and almost passive.

  “My lady,” Charles said. “If you are ready, I shall take you to your room.”

  Avalyn nodded faintly, gathering up her heavy cloak and emerging from the cab with William’s help. But the moment her feet hit the ground, Charles took her from the knight. Avalyn looked a little panicked but calmed quickly, realizing that Charles had every right to escort her. In fact
, he had nearly every right to do with her as he pleased. They did not re-enter the inn but rounded the corner, heading around back. Avalyn looked over her shoulder at the carriage and trunks left behind under guard.

  “Will your men bring my things?” she asked Charles.

  He nodded quickly. “Of course, my lady.”

  Avalyn’s gaze lingered on the distant baggage, then finally William and Barton as they followed along behind like a pair of guard dogs. Barton was taller than William and several pounds heavier, but William was nothing to be trifled with. Avalyn knew, for a fact, that William was very scrappy when provoked. Her uncle had many tales of the man’s ferocious behavior in battle.

  The inn had a few small cottages behind the main establishment that they rented out as rooms. There were four in total, lined up around a small, overgrown yard, and two were occupied. Charles led Avalyn up to the cottage furthest from the yard and lifted the big iron latch, pushing open the door. Avalyn peered inside; there was a dirty serving wench stoking the fire, a small bed, and little else. It was warm and smelly. Beside her, she could feel Charles’ gaze on her and it made her uncomfortable.

  “This is where we shall sleep tonight, my lady,” Charles said, turning to the knights behind him. “St. John, you and Inglesbatch will take the other cottage. Be prepared to leave at dawn.”

  Barton nodded shortly but William didn’t budge. “My lord,” he said. “With respect, of course, I would remind my lord that he is not yet married to the lady and to share sleeping quarters with her at this time is inappropriate.”

  Barton just looked at him, as did Charles. The man’s ruddy face turned even redder and he took a few steps in William’s direction and lowered his voice.

  “Inglesbatch,” he said slowly. “I know that you are the lady’s protector. Courtesy of her uncle, I am also very well aware of your feelings for her. There are strange forces at work around Lady Avalyn and you seem to be the common denominator. I’ve not yet figured out what is going on, but I will. Give me time. Let me say here and now that I do not fault you your feelings for the lady; however, she is to be my wife and I will not tolerate any interference from you. You will know your place, or I will send you back to Warwick. Is that clear?”

  William maintained his composure. “I am the lady’s loyal servant, my lord. It is my duty to protect her, in all things. I apologize if my words are insolent.”

  Charles stared at him. He looked as if he wanted to say something harsh, but he refrained. “I should be grateful that she has a knight of your caliber to watch over her. But I am to be her husband and will abide no interference. Acknowledge this.”

  “I do, my lord.”

  The tension in the air was palpable, but Charles nodded as if he believed him. Avalyn, standing in the doorway to the cottage, had watched the exchange. Charles was establishing his territory; that much was clear. Although William’s expression had remained neutral, she could tell by his posturing that he was not pleased. Slowly but firmly, she pushed between the two men and put her hand on William’s armored arm.

  “William has known me since I was a girl, my lord,” she said to Aubrey. “He is fiercely loyal. Although he surely knows his place and we both acknowledge that you, as my betrothed, may do as you will with me, I must agree with him. It would not be proper for you and I to share a room being unwed.”

  Something was coming clearly evident over the past few days; whenever Charles came into Avalyn’s presence, he turned into a spineless whelp. Something in his expression slackened to the point of appearing dumbfounded. But he retained enough of his composure to send Barton and William away. When they had moved out of earshot, he turned to Avalyn.

  “I realize your concerns, my lady,” he said quietly. “But believe me when I tell you that my intention is not to ravish you. My intention is to come to know you. We’ve not had much opportunity to be alone and I was hoping to use this trip to my advantage. But even today, as we traveled, there was no time for us to speak. You were in the carriage and I was on my horse. So… so I was hoping to have the opportunity now to come to know you a little better. Without Inglesbatch hanging around.”

  It was a genuine request. Avalyn didn’t feel like speaking to him in the least and she had no great desire to know the man better. But he looked rather pathetic, as if he was begging for some of her precious time, and she began to feel herself relent. She didn’t know why she felt sorry for him, but she did. He was as much a pawn in this game her uncle played as she was.

  “If that is your wish, my lord.”

  She turned and walked into the cottage. Charles followed on her heels, like an eager puppy, and snapped softly to the serving wench to vacate. The woman fled and Charles closed the door behind her. The last Avalyn saw of William’s distant face was an expression of distinct concern. And then the door shut and she was alone with her fiancé.

  Avalyn was having a difficult time meeting his gaze, but she forced herself. There was a small stool by the hearth, now smoking heavily into the room, and she sat primly on the edge. There was no possibility of her removing her cloak; to do so would be to somehow expose herself to this man she did not know. Keeping the cloak bundled around her offered a false sense of protection, a shield from his over-eagerness.

  Charles still stood just inside the door, clenching and unclenching his hands nervously. When she sat, he moved to the bed and stiffly perched on the edge. Now that they were alone, the silence was awkward. There was much he wanted to say, much he wanted to ask, but was unsure where to start. He cleared his throat loudly.

  “I ordered a meal,” he said timidly. “Not knowing what you would like, I ordered everything they had. I hope there is something that tempts you.”

  She looked at the man; really looked at him. He was so tentative around her that it was annoying. But, in fairness, Avalyn knew her attitude towards him was to blame; she had been clearly uninterested from the beginning. It was no wonder the man was hesitant around her. He had never come across as anything but considerate, even when St. John was interrogating her. In fact, he had seemed rather sympathetic towards her during the course of that awful session.

  “So,” she began, perhaps not so guarded. “What is you wish to know about me?”

  Charles blinked as if the question startled him. “Well,” he began, clasping and unclasping his hands. “Perhaps… perhaps you will tell me what your favorite food is.”

  She couldn’t help the smile that creased her face. “My favorite food?”

  “Aye.”

  Avalyn thought a moment. “I am particularly fond of bread with honey and butter. And I also like milk pudding with berries.” She watched him smile. “What is your favorite food?”

  He laughed, patting his round belly. “Most anything, as you can tell.”

  Reluctant giggles escaped her lips as he slapped his gut. “Not to worry, my lord,” she said. “Your size is indicative of your prosperity.”

  His smile eased. “It is not my prosperity but my father’s. He was a man driven by greed. All I ever wanted to do was raise Belgian warmbloods and sell them for love of the breed. But my father… well, he had other ideas. And he made the Aubrey fortune any way he could.”

  Her smile faded as she sensed that perhaps he was not particularly proud of his father, for whatever reason. His manner seemed to change when he mentioned the man. “Tell me of Guerdley Cross,” she asked.

  He sat forward, elbows on his knees and his hands hanging. “I was born there. It has been in my family for four generations, licensed by Edward the Third to my great grandsire. It is a lovely place; the baronetcy is one of the largest in the north and quite prosperous. I hope that you will be proud to call it your home.”

  Listening to the man, his meek words and benign manner, was only causing her to feel sorry for him. He seemed so out of place, almost lost in a world that had him powerfully within its grasp. How on earth he came to be such a powerful player in Warwick’s schemes was unknown; he did not have the personality o
f a political wolf. But as he spoke of the wealth of Guerdley Cross, she came to suspect he was a powerful man purely due to his wealth. He could financially support Warwick’s cause and was therefore of value. Clearly, he seemed to have nothing else of intrinsic value.

  And then a thought occurred to her; it was little wonder that her uncle selected him for her husband. Avalyn could very easily manipulate the man and take over all operations of Guerdley Cross and its wealth, thereby forever ensuring Aubrey’s support. Her mind began to work; thoughts of vengeance began to fill her head. What if she was in control of Guerdley Cross? And what if she convinced Charles to support Edward and not his brother Clarence for the throne? It would put a huge hole in Warwick’s arsenal. And she would be fighting on Brogan’s side. If she wanted to hurt the man who was intent on ruining her life, then fighting for the king would certainly do it. She could beat him at his own game.

  “You are lost to me, my lady,” Charles’ soft voice floated upon the musty air. “Did I say something to offend you?”

  Breaking from her treacherous train of thought, Avalyn realized she had not replied to his earlier statement. She forced a weak smile. “Of course not,” she said. “I suppose I am simply fatigued.”

  “Of course,” he suddenly bolted to his feet. “How unfeeling of me. You would surely like to sleep.”

  She nodded, an eyebrow raised as she gazed up at him. The subject lingering in the back of their minds had finally come to bear and she was customarily forthright. “And just where do you intend to sleep?”

  His face turned a deep shade of red. “Well… that is to say, I thought to sleep here.”

  “Where?”

  “In a chair. But I see that there is no chair.”

  She gave him a look that suggested she was not prepared to sleep in the same room with him yet. Not receiving a positive response, his red face turned even redder. “I will go and see if the innkeeper has another room,” he said quickly, moving to the door. Hand on the iron latch, he suddenly paused. “I hope you do not think… well, that I was going to behave less than chivalrous towards you. It was truly my only desire to speak with you without interruption.”