The Warrior Knight and the Widow Page 9

He looked at the ceiling, and then at the floor, ‘I don’t think,’ he said slowly, ‘that you would pass as a lady right now.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  His gaze flickered down the length of her body before returning to the ceiling. ‘You look a little...’ he waved his hand around for a moment ‘...dishevelled.’

  She glanced down at her clothes. Before she could respond there was a knock at the door. Braedan went to open it and a young man strode through carrying a large pail of steaming water. Behind him scurried the maid, with a round basin.

  The young man openly gawped at her, his gaze raking her whole body and reminding her of Lord Swein and his unwelcome attentions. She stepped back and folded her arms over her chest.

  The young man grinned and winked at her as he deposited the water near her feet. The basin clattered to the floor as the maid dumped it and rushed back to the door. The young man sauntered after her.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Braedan to the maid as she scuttled out. Just as the young man reached the doorway Braedan reached out and gripped his arm. ‘Next time you see my lady you will treat her with respect. Do you understand?’

  Although Braedan’s grip didn’t tighten, there was enough hardness in his voice and ferocity in his eyes to make the young man visibly quail. He nodded quickly, then hurried out to join the maid.

  ‘I thought you might like to clean yourself,’ said Braedan as he closed the door behind them and gestured to the water.

  Ellena didn’t move.

  ‘They think I’m a... They think...’ said Ellena. ‘They think I’m a woman who sells her favours.’

  ‘I’m sure they don’t any more,’ said Braedan, crossing the room and pulling the room’s only chair underneath the window.

  He swivelled the chair around and sat down with his back to her. He obviously wasn’t going to leave while she washed, but she no longer cared. She didn’t even care that the serving boy thought she was a prostitute. The desire to be clean overwhelmed everything else.

  She dipped the basin into the water and filled it, setting it on the little table when it was full. No spices had been added to sweeten it, but it was clear and clean and it was heavenly to be so close to such warmth.

  She leaned over and caught sight of her reflection. No wonder the two young people had thought she was a lady of the night. Her short hair hung in limp straggles around her face and it looked as if it had never been clean. A quick glance down at her dress confirmed that it was torn and grubby.

  She must have made some sound of distress, because Braedan muttered, ‘Don’t worry...it will grow again.’

  ‘I’m not upset about losing my hair,’ she said. ‘It’s better to lose that than my life. And my head feels lighter without it.’

  She turned her head from side to side, revelling in how easy it was without the weight of the curls she’d carried around with her for years.

  ‘It looks pretty,’ said Braedan gruffly.

  She turned to look at him. Although he was still turned away from her she could see the tips of his ears turning a burning-hot red. She smiled. It was clear that The Beast was not used to giving compliments. A little bubble of joy floated through her. It had been years since anyone had called her pretty, and then it had only been her mother who’d said it in the first place. She was renowned for being the Earl of Ogmore’s plain daughter.

  As she splashed water onto her face and neck she wondered if Braedan was married, or promised to someone. In all the talk about her father’s most fearsome warrior there had never been any mention of a woman, but perhaps that was why he had stopped kissing her this morning.

  She stumbled and knocked into the table.

  He turned sharply to look at her and she shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m tired,’ she said.

  He nodded and turned back without asking any questions.

  She splashed more water on her face and closed her eyes. Just the memory of that kiss had caused her legs to go from underneath her. What would it be like if he did it again? Not that she wanted him to, of course. He was a wild warrior, with a horrible reputation, and she’d had a bad experience with a man whom everyone had thought was good. She wouldn’t let the fact that her body seemed to enjoy his attention cloud her judgement. He was still a man—even if he was an honourable one.

  She was carefully washing her damaged foot when another knock sounded on the door.

  ‘This should be our food,’ said Braedan, standing and letting the person in.

  It was a different maid this time, and thankfully she was carrying dinner. Ellena had to force herself to stand very still with her hands by her sides as the maid carried the steaming bowls past her and laid the food on the table. Not a word was spoken until the woman had left the room.

  As soon as Braedan closed the door Ellena fell on the food. She tore a large chunk of bread and dipped it into the wholesome-looking stew. It could taste dreadful for all she cared, just as long as she ate.

  Braedan chuckled as he joined her. ‘I’m not sure anyone would believe that you were the Earl of Ogmore’s only daughter if they could see you now.’

  She frowned at him over a large mouthful of bread, but her heart wasn’t really in it to get truly annoyed. It didn’t matter what anyone thought of her. She was getting food into her desperately empty belly.

  Next to her, Braedan attacked his food too.

  With the last of the hunger pains dying away she stopped shovelling food into her mouth and paused for a breath.

  ‘Are you feeling better?’ Braedan asked.

  Ellena didn’t like the way the laughter in his eyes was making her feel. It called to something deep inside her which made her want to make him laugh again, just to see his expression.

  ‘Yes, I’m feeling sane now,’ she said, stepping away from the table and the proximity of him.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘We’ll get some sleep and then tomorrow we’ll buy more supplies before heading off again.’

  ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll need some new boots, ribbons to tie my hair into a braid, and a needle and thread to repair the damage to my dress.’

  ‘I’ve already asked the landlord to acquire those for you before we leave.’

  She nodded. He really did think of everything.

  ‘Get some rest.’ He nodded to the bed.

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m going to head down to the taproom and see if I can find out more about where we are in relation to your father’s lands, and whether Copsi and his men have been spotted anywhere near here.’

  ‘Will you come back?’ she asked. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to answer yes or no.

  ‘I will, but I may be some time. It would be best if you got some sleep while I’m gone. I’ll lock you in.’

  He strode over to the doorway and stopped when his hand was on the doorknob.

  ‘I’ll sleep on the floor,’ he said.

  Ellena paused for a moment. She was about to say that he could join her on the bed—she trusted him, and she would tell him he could trust her too—but he opened the door and was gone before she could get the words out.

  Chapter Eight

  Only a handful of the hardier guests were left in the smoky taproom by the time Braedan reached it. He ordered himself an ale and sat down at a table in a dark corner by himself.

  He’d lied to Ellena. He already knew where they were and he’d made all the enquiries about Copsi that he intended to. To ask any more would invite curiosity, and he wanted to pass unnoticed through this quiet little town.

  He’d had to get out of the room because he didn’t think he had the strength of will to stay standing when she climbed into bed. It had been bad enough watching her sleep the first few times he’d done it, but now, knowing what it felt like to hold her in his arms while she slept, it would be unbearable.

 
He knocked back half of his drink without even tasting it.

  He closed his eyes as yet another image of Ellena’s face so close to his flitted across his mind. This morning already felt like a dream. When he’d woken and realised she was awake, and not struggling to get away from his arms, it had felt like a miracle. Then, when she’d turned and looked at him, with interest rather than fear, he’d almost forgotten how to breathe.

  He’d thought that at any minute she would pull away from him, but she had seemed as content to look at him as he’d been to stare at her. When her soft fingers had touched his face he’d been lost. Kissing her had seemed the most natural thing in the world. And when she’d responded passionately he’d momentarily forgotten who he was.

  Just as he’d been about to tear away the blankets that separated them his conscience had woken up and all but slapped him in the face.

  She was his liege’s daughter. The woman he’d sworn to protect and return to Ogmore unharmed. She was the King’s niece—not some random woman he could tumble in a rundown hut. She was also the woman whose castle he was planning to take. She wasn’t going to forgive him for that, but if he’d taken advantage of her as well...

  He’d forced himself to pull away and put as much distance between them as he could.

  But he knew that to his dying day he would remember the feel of her mouth beneath his.

  He knocked back the rest of his drink and went to order a second.

  ‘Where are you and your wife heading?’ asked the barmaid as she poured his ale.

  ‘Ogmore,’ he said. There was no point pretending otherwise. He’d asked for directions there earlier.

  Ogmore was a huge town, and most of the surrounding area traded there. He’d banked on this small settlement being a natural stopping point for people heading there and he’d been right. Many of the other guests staying here were bound in that direction too.

  ‘Are you from there, then?’ she asked as she placed his drink in front of him.

  He nodded as he rummaged in his clothes for some money.

  ‘Have you ever seen The Beast?’ she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

  He froze in the act of counting out his coins. He knew people called him that. Hell, he’d been called that to his face more than once. But it still got to him.

  He’d not set out in life to become a terrifying monster of legend. He’d done his knight’s training because it had been the right thing to do. He’d always believed he would inherit his father’s lands, and what had really interested him was the management of them. He’d wanted to build on what his father had and make it into a rich and profitable homestead, so that he could arrange good marriages for his sisters and his own children.

  His father had destroyed any chance of that happening. But if he was successful in this mission he might get back some of that dream.

  Aware that the barmaid was waiting for an answer, he nodded and said, ‘Occasionally.’

  This wasn’t technically a lie. He did sometimes catch a glimpse of his reflection, but it wasn’t something he tried to do. The reaction of his own mother, not to mention strangers, who cowered in horror when seeing his face, didn’t encourage him to look too closely.

  ‘Is he as fearsome as the rumours?’ she asked as he handed over his coins.

  ‘Worse,’ said Braedan, snatching up his beer and taking it to his corner of the room.

  He wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

  He sipped his second drink much more slowly than his first. He was tempted to go for a third when it was finished, but he managed to stop himself. Ogmore had been generous with his allowance for this trip, and Braedan had some money of his own, but he didn’t know how much longer they were going to be on the road and he needed to conserve what they had.

  Reluctantly he stood and slowly climbed the stairs to their room. He hoped Ellena was sleeping—and then he hoped that she was awake and waiting for him to come back. Even if they argued it would mean interacting with her, which was something he’d never do again once this trip was over.

  He turned the doorknob slowly and stepped inside as quietly as he could. Her back was turned to him and she was breathing slowly and evenly, giving every indication that she was deeply asleep. But something inside him doubted it, and he was half tempted to speak to her just to test whether she would respond.

  On the table she’d placed some blankets and a pillow. He took them and lay down on the floor at the bottom of the bed. He heard her shifting around and he smiled to himself. She wasn’t asleep, then.

  He closed his eyes and willed his muscles to relax on the hard floor. The next few days would be long and difficult and he needed as much rest as possible.

  * * *

  Ellena awoke to the soft sound of snoring again. It had taken her an age to fall asleep after Braedan had returned to the room. She’d spent so long trying to pluck up the courage to tell him he could join her in the bed without it sounding like a proposition that she’d heard him fall into sleep before she’d even got the words out. She’d hoped that would help her fall asleep herself, but she’d spent an agonisingly long time fighting the urge to get up and watch him.

  She didn’t know where these strange urges were coming from. She’d been convinced that Lord Swein had killed stone-dead any romantic notions she’d had as a green girl, but now they seemed to be resurfacing—and towards the most inappropriate man in the whole kingdom.

  This was a man who made his living out of violence—the one thing that terrified her more than anything. Just because he was being kind to her now, it didn’t mean he always would be. She would never be able to defend herself against a man as strong as him. She should be cowering from him, not longing to touch the skin of his face.

  She pushed the covers back and slowly slipped from the bed.

  The water from last night was covered in a layer of grime. She scooped off some small twigs and leaves and dropped them onto the table. The water underneath wasn’t much better, with mud settled on the bottom of the basin, but she splashed some on her face anyway. She went through the one remaining pack and was delighted when she pulled out the comb. She took it back to the bed with her and began to systematically work through the tangles of her much-shortened hair.

  Braedan sat up just as she was experimenting with arranging the strands into a short braid. He blinked sleepily at her, and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. He looked like a startled owl.

  He smiled sleepily back and then rubbed his eyes.

  ‘Well, that’s a first,’ he said, his voice rough with sleep.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘We made it through a whole day and night without a catastrophe.’

  She laughed again. He was right. She felt a lot better for having spent a whole day without running for her life and a night of complete rest.

  ‘Thank you for the pillow,’ he said.

  ‘I could hardly let you sleep on the floor with nothing.’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ he muttered.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve travelled with many a lord and lady who have treated me no better than a dog,’ he said bitterly.

  She jumped down from the bed and padded over to the table again. ‘But you were born a nobleman, weren’t you?’

  ‘I was. But after my father...’ He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. I am not in this line of work to make friends.’

  A smile briefly touched his lips but didn’t reach his eyes. Her heart ached for him as he stood and began to sort through their belongings again, laying out their meagre possessions on the bed. How humiliating it must be to serve people who had once been below him in the pecking order. No wonder it annoyed him when she tried to give orders. She would try to phrase her demands as suggestions in future, and see whether that made him more amenable.

  ‘I’m going to see if your new b
oots have arrived,’ he said. ‘If they have we’ll head to the market and buy some provisions, and then we’d best set off.’

  ‘Did you find out how far away we are from my father’s castle?’

  He nodded as he placed the last of the items back in the saddle bag. ‘We’re about a week’s walk away.’

  ‘A week!’ she exclaimed. ‘But we’ve already been travelling for days.’

  He nodded and put the pack on the floor. ‘I’m afraid so, yes. We’ve gone a long distance out of our way, trying to get away from Copsi and his men. I’ll go and see about those boots. You’ll need them.’

  She sat down on the only chair in the room. A whole week of walking stretched ahead of her. She’d be totally ruined by the time she got back to the castle. There was no way anyone would believe that nothing had taken place between her and Braedan. She’d be forced to marry him.

  She closed her eyes tightly. She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, that the idea didn’t fill her with as much horror as it should have done. She’d sworn to herself she’d never marry again and, as powerful as Braedan’s kisses were, she wasn’t about to break that vow.

  ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’ asked Braedan, returning to the room carrying a pair of ladies’ boots and a large empty satchel.

  ‘The bad first, please.’

  ‘The bad news is that there is no time for us to go shopping for food.’

  ‘Oh?’ She puffed out a breath. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, the good news is that one of the other rooms has been taken by a family travelling in the direction of Ogmore, and they’ve offered us room on their cart for a very small fee. They have a spare horse for me to use. It won’t be comfortable, but it will help us to disguise ourselves and it will save time. They want to leave right now.’

  Ellena gasped. ‘How many days will that shave off our journey?’

  ‘It should halve the time.’ He grinned and Ellena resisted the urge to fling her arms around him.

  This was fabulous news.

  He bent and started to push his chain mail into the empty satchel.