As he watched her go, he shifted in the saddle. He ought to be happy to have prodded her into keeping today’s speed. Why, then, did he feel so guilty?
Throughout the day, she continued to surprise him. He had no doubt she remained furious, yet not one word of complaint escaped her lips. Even when he led the group along a stream where underbrush caught her skirt and one tall bramble bush trapped her wimple. With a laugh, she accepted help from a guard to free the fabric and tried to fasten it in place as she rode. The result soon loosened, and the whole wimple tilted over an eye. The two “monks” chuckled and winked.
Macsen actually cracked a smile at the sight. The mood remained merry, and anyone who observed would take them for exactly what was intended. A party of guards escorting their gentle lady, her maid, and a pair of pilgrims.
It irritated the hell out of Stephen.
****
That night, he tried to shut out the sound of Evie’s determined cheerfulness. She charmed the men as she handed out bread and cheese around the small fire. When she called Marie and set out for the stream, Macsen rose.
“I’ll stand guard against animals,” he offered.
“Your help will be appreciated,” Evie answered.
Stephen slammed his arms across his chest and glared at their retreating figures. He might as well get used to irritation for the next several days. He stomped to the campfire, grabbed a sharpening stone from his pack, and sat to hone the edge of his sword.
At last the trio tromped back through the weeds and tall grass. Fortunate no enemy lurked near. All that talk and laughter were sure to alert them. Evie happened to meet his eyes, and her bright smile froze on her beautiful lips. With a toss of her head, she marched to the makeshift tent of blankets draped over a tree limb. Stephen scrubbed his fist against a prickle in his chest.
“She’s a pleasant companion.” Macsen halted beside Stephen. “Give her a chance.”
Stephen grunted. “She’s a damned duty keeping me from the Dragon.” A whisper in his mind warned him Evie might be more than a duty. He refused to listen. Grabbing his sword, he stood. “Set the guard. I’m for bed.”
****
Something pulled him from the blackness of deep sleep, and he grabbed his sword as he sat to listen. Not a sound. Yet he never doubted his instinct. Then he heard it. A low frantic hum. He leaped to his feet and turned in the direction of the rising moan. Evie’s shelter.
He dashed to the makeshift tent, tore aside a drooping blanket. Inside, a still-sleeping Evie beat at the air, while Marie cowered nearby. Stephen pulled the maid away and dropped to his knees just as Evie landed a palm against his chest. He laid aside the sword and clasped her wrist.
Her eyes flew open. But at the cry of agony, he knew the hideous place of the dream still trapped her.
“It’s all right.” He used the gentle tone of command he employed with young squires just baptized in battle. “You’re safe. No threat. You’re here with me. No danger.”
She stilled. Clarity focused her eyes, and she pulled up. Twisting the hand he held, she clasped icy fingers around his. The gasps calmed as she struggled to control fear.
“The fire’s out,” he murmured, mindful of Marie’s curious ears. “It’s many years gone. It can never harm you again.”
Her stare fixed on his shoulder, Evie nodded. At last she looked at him with a deep, shuddering breath. Her first words surprised him. “Henry told you?”
What could he say? Admit her brother shared her secret with him?
Occasional tremors jerked along Evie’s fine, soft skin. “These dreams are of a different fire,” she insisted. “But thank you. I’m fine now.”
She might believe those sleep images weren’t of the blaze that threatened her as a young girl. Yet he’d seen too many soldiers relive battles not to recognize her agony. An urge to comfort her rose in him. Before he could act, she pulled at his grasp. He placed her hand on her lap, and although she didn’t move further, he sensed her retreat.
“Thank you for coming to my aid,” she said. “I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep.”
She knotted her hands in her lap and stared at them. After a few moments of silence, he rose. Nothing to be gained, trying to reassure the stubborn lady, but at the tent’s opening, a whisper stopped him.
“You’re wrong about one thing. I am in danger with you.”
He glanced around to find she lay facing the blanket wall. Did she really believe he would intentionally place her at risk? Shaking his head, he stalked back to his rough bed. From the corner of his eye, he saw the other men shift and relax. His men—always at the ready. His friends. What better proof that God forgave his doubt and anger all those years ago.
He could ask one better proof. God could deliver the Dragon into his hands for vengeance. Then he’d know it truly wasn’t his fault Sorya and the villagers had perished.
Well before dawn, he packed most of the camp and stood glaring toward the quiet, blanket-draped shelter. He sensed a familiar presence at his side.
“Problem last night?” Macsen asked.
“Bad dream.”
Macsen grunted and lifted a hand to William, who rode out for early scout. He didn’t speak.
One of his friend’s many gifts, knowing when to remain silent. Stephen rubbed the back of his neck. The action didn’t ease the dread that stiffened his muscles.
“Father Joseph’s plan seems solid,” Stephen said at last. “But I can’t shake a portent of trouble.” He’d yet to decide if the vague apprehension signaled a real threat or resulted from Evie’s dream.
Finally, Macsen said, “At least the day dawns well.”
Stephen glanced toward the pink and orange horizon. A slight southern breeze carried hints of green leaves and wood smoke. He inhaled. By sunset they’d arrive at Hartley Manor. And in a few days, God willing, they’d see England. Then he’d be rid of his niggling worry. With a grimace, he stalked toward the tree. Time for the “niggling worry” to wake.
Evie muffled a yawn as she twisted her long hair into a braid to tuck beneath the wimple. Usually the fire dreams upset her long into the day after, but this morning the remnants seemed less terrifying. Perhaps Stephen could be thanked. Or blamed. She’d told him true. What she saw in those dreams bore no relationship to the incident in her youth.
At this moment, however, she had no time to consider what the disturbing visions signified. Not with His Surliness nagging at her to finish her
private duties
and find her mount. She groaned. She must stop railing at him. For now.
His actions last night softened the resentment she’d harbored since he had stepped out of St. Anselm’s gate to throw her plans, and her world, into turmoil. Now she resolved to offer a truce.
But, heavens, the man made it difficult. Every word seemed an order. Arise and make ready to leave. Refrain from distracting the men.
A long-suffering sigh soughed from her lips as she stepped into the early sunshine. Today, she determined to overlook his gruffness, to meet each of his moods with a smile.
If it killed her.
And it just might, she thought, when he loomed before her, and his strong hands closed around her waist. Shivers coursed through her at his touch. Each finger burned into her skin, as if the layers of shift and gown and cloak disappeared. Her startled gaze flew to his and encountered the same shock. It flicked from his eyes so quickly that it might never have existed.
Her bottom met the saddle abruptly, and the air trapped in her chest broke free with an
umph.
His hands caressed briefly before he stalked away.
She struggled to calm her thudding heart. It took a moment to realize part of the clamor came from a horseman racing in—Sir William, wasn’t it?
He halted beside Stephen, speaking rapidly. Neither looked happy.
Stephen nodded and leaped onto his bay, signaled to Macsen, then he and William pounded back down the road. Where were they bound? Fumbling at the reins, Evie urged her mare forward.
“Stay here, my lady.” Macsen sidled his mottled gray gelding into her path.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Her voice might tremble, but her mind clearly noted the condescending glance he sent her way.
“Not a thing, my lady, but the captain will want to leave as soon as he returns.”
The exaggerated calm of his voice confirmed it. He humored her, just as he would a child. Unacceptable. Straightening in the saddle, Evie regained control. “Sir Macsen?”
At her tone of command, he shifted, which sent his horse into a backward step. He recovered quickly. “The captain intends to keep you safe.”
“I doubt that’s his only objective, Sir Knight. Now if you’ll move aside, I mean to join my maid. She’s there, with Davy.” Thank heaven she’d spied Marie. A perfect excuse to move forward, to investigate the road where the two men had disappeared so rapidly.
Macsen glanced toward the girl and the young squire mounted at the clearing’s edge. He nodded and allowed her to proceed but fell in behind. How like one of his men.
It no longer should surprise her that a knight who showed solicitude and understanding one day became as gruff and unyielding as his commander the next day. Hadn’t she learned anything from her years as sister to the king’s favorite captain? The mission came first. Always.
Precisely what mission occupied
these
men?
****
From his perch in a tree, Stephen squinted down the road. “I make it six,” he called softly.
“That’s what I counted,” William replied, just as quietly. He stepped aside when Stephen swung to the ground. “Think they’re the ones who attacked you outside the monastery?”
“Couldn’t tell from this distance,” Stephen muttered. He knuckled the still-tender injury on his leg. From their spot in the grove, he watched one of the riders break away to look at the ground along the verge. Damnation. The men tracked someone. They might not be searching for him, but he couldn’t take the chance.
“Go back, get everyone started. Tell Macsen to keep Lady Evelynn close, but don’t—”
“I know. Don’t tell her there’s trouble,” William finished the sentence. “She just might come to help.” He flashed a grin at Stephen’s glare, then ran back to gather his mount.
Stephen crept forward, keeping to the cover of the trees and undergrowth. Perhaps, when they came closer, he could identify the one he’d wounded. His pulse quickened. If only the consequences weren’t so serious, he’d enjoy the game. But the stakes were too high. His lips tightened at the memory of the defiant tilt of Evie’s stubborn chin, the challenge in her wide, cautious eyes. He’d not fail another lady.
****
Evie knew something was wrong the moment William appeared alone. Where was Stephen? The morning’s bread and cheese settled like rocks in her stomach. After a quick consult with William, Macsen stalked toward her.
“We will leave now,” he announced in his usual imperturbable manner. “Ride close to me. Davy will see to your maid.”
“What’s happened?” Evie moved alongside, struggling to emulate his calm tone. “Where’s Sir Stephen?”
“Following. No need for concern.”
“You might as well tell me now. I’ll find out eventually, you know.” And she would, even if it meant galloping back to search for the impossible man.
“Don’t worry,” Macsen muttered. “He’s coming along.” He nodded and increased the pace.
“Where is Sir Stephen?” she repeated. “Is he injured?” When he failed to answer, she rode closer. “I’m not stupid, Sir Macsen, nor will I dissolve into hysterics.”
He opened his mouth, but any reply was lost in the thunder of more hooves. She twisted in the saddle.
Stephen. Relief swept through her. He came up on her other side, and at some unseen signal, Macsen dropped back.
“Where have you been?” The moment the words left her mouth, she wished them back. She sounded like a nagging shrew.
He shook his head and pointed to a cluster of trees set back from the road. Nodding, she urged her mount in that direction.
When the group convened at the tiny stream the trees bordered, Evie studied her companions. Every knight wore a grim expression of concentration, but none seemed agitated. Perhaps the threat was over.
“Rest the horses here,” Stephen commanded, swinging to the ground. “Lady Evelynn, you and your maid refresh yourselves but remain close. We’ll leave when Sir William returns.”
Davy handed Evie down, helped Marie dismount, then hurried to where the men, including the two monks, hunkered in a tight circle. Their voices were too low for her to overhear. Eyes narrowed, lips set, she marched toward them. No longer would she be treated like she hadn’t a mind. She would have answers.
“They took the coast road,” she heard Stephen say. “If they planned to follow us, they’d not likely leave the trail.” One of the men opened his mouth to speak, but espied Evie, and nodded her way. The others turned. Curses, she’d lost the element of surprise.
Stephen’s stony expression proved unreadable. It seemed the greater the danger, the more inflexible he became. His narrowed lips whitened at the corners. That couldn’t be good.
She took a step back, then recalled her determination and stepped forward again. Perhaps if she spoke first, he couldn’t chastise her. “Why are we running? Is there danger?”
In two strides, he loomed before her. She had to tilt her head to look at him. He had a habit of doing that when he wanted to intimidate, she realized, but it failed to work with her, just as it always had.
“Remember my warnings that the countryside might prove dangerous?” His tone carried an I-told-you-so challenge. “We’ve run across a band of mercenaries, and we need to put distance between us. Now return to your horse, because this day’s journey isn’t finished.”
His answer sounded reasonable, but Evie couldn’t help feel it lacked truth. Before she snapped a reply, William was back, sneezing through a cloud of dust churned up by his galloping mount.
“Hartley’s just ahead.” He grabbed a waterskin Stephen tossed his way. After a long drink, he passed it back with a grin. “Not far.”
The others relaxed their rigid stances, shoulders loosening. One chuckled, another splintered the twig he’d held and tossed the pieces away before heading toward the horses.