Chapter 15
Lamplight spilled across the large, rather comfortable pavilion. Dusk had fallen.
Outside the earl’s men were gathering around campfires, relaxing and enjoying the day’s ending. To the left of the fires stood a corral for the horses. Opposite stood two small pavilions for the women. These were flanked by guards.
Sir Lanval glanced in that direction then ducked his head and entered the Black Raven’s pavilion, positioned in the very center of the camp.
“My liege,” he said, “we have a problem.”
Edward looked up from the map he and Dunstan were examining and raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t think we can foist our tale of bandits on her for much longer. Your lady’s suspicions grow apace,” said Lanval.
“But there are bandits,” said Dunstan. “Well… a few less than before, but we’ve yet to get the ring leaders.”
“True,” said Lanval, “but I think she knows there’s more to it.”
Edward Frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“Twice today she has asked me strange questions.”
“Such as?”
“Why we eschew the nice little villages along the way and prefer to make our way through the wilds where it’s more likely to find bandits. She also noted that you appear to be hiding from her.”
Edward crossed his arms and looked at Lanval in amusement. “Pray, what did you say to that?”
“I deflected, naturally, said you were busy making sure no bandits were about.”
“Very enterprising, Lanval. We’ll make a storyteller of you yet.”
“She already hinted that she finds your avoidance—as she puts it—unchivalrous and wished me to tell you that. You may have underestimated her,” said Lanval.
“As is becoming increasingly apparent,” said Edward dryly. “She is sending my knights on errands, now.”
“She draws closer to the mark. You cannot hide our apparent course from her for much longer.”
“Nor do I intend to,” said Edward. “However, I’d like to be a little further on when I do.”
“How would that make a difference?” asked Dunstan.
“The country round is less taxing than these tumbled hills and wild woods. She has this habit of absconding—especially into woodlands, as you might have noticed.”
The knights chortled.
Diggens flushed with annoyance. “That isn’t the reason,” he said, setting down the polishing cloth he was using to shine the vambrace of his lord’s armor. He swiped an elbow across his brow. “You keep from her the true nature of the peril. ‘Tis a disservice to the lady.”
“Methinks the puppy needs correction, my lord,” said Lanval with a less-than-friendly glare at the cheeky squire. Clearly, he thought Edward too lenient with his underling.
In fact, the earl’s tolerance had reached its limit. “He becomes more besotted by the day,” he muttered in disgust.
Oblivious, Diggens pressed on. “She should be told there are people out to harm her. That way she would be forewarned and on her guard.”
“And how, you ninny-hammered coot, will you explain it is her own flesh and blood that wishes her harm and is stalking her even as we speak?” snarled his lord.
Diggens put his chin down. He’d been with Edward long enough to know when he’d reached his limit.
“I hope, m’lord,” he intoned after a pause, “that you will remember that, when you finally bring the cowards to book.”
“I don’t think you need worry on that score, my lad,” said his master. “I hanker for the day.”
* * *
Here and there along the valley Lily could see Ravensworth men silhouetted against the glowing fires. Orange sparks flared and licked the shadows.
The night was very fine; a deep purple-blue sky freckled with white stars. If she’d not been in a tumult of anxiety, she would have enjoyed the sight. But not tonight. Tonight, she wanted answers to some of the questions that bothered her with growing intensity.
It seemed that her betrothed was ignoring her. Deliberately. She wanted to know why. Also, she was entirely unsure, but something told her they were going in the wrong direction. The two things, she sensed, were related, even though she had no idea how.
Lily worried her bottom lip. Could she be mistaken? About everything? Perhaps. Admittedly, she did not have a good sense of direction. Her weakness. Once outside of Keelington and its surrounds, she might as well have been on the moon.
She’d seen little of the earl since he’d intercepted them on the road to Holt. Entombed in that dreadful carriage, it was near impossible to see anything. Not that she wished to see him. She did not. His Arrogance seemed to have chartered a convoluted route to get to Holt.
They had traveled all yesterday afternoon and all day today along cart tracks and even a towpath. And their journey had not yet ended. Whenever Lily got the chance to ask one of the guards when they might reach their destination, all she got was a shrug.
And that was the thing. They ought to have reached her aunt’s demesne yesterday evening, or this morning. Perhaps they were going some circuitous route to avoid the threat of rogues on the road, but surely not a whole extra day’s travel?
From what she could make out, it did not look at all as if they were going west. Certainly, they were not headed in the same direction as the westering sun.
With the earl conveniently absent, she found herself in a dilemma.
Pride forbade her to go to him. The women’s tents were kept separated and a guard was posted at all times.
The earl’s pavilion was dead set in the middle of the main camp full of soldiers.
To have wandered down into the center of all that masculine activity would have attracted unwanted attention.
It appeared that the earl entrusted the women’s safe keeping to his personal guard.
At least, whoever guarded her and her aunt, there was usually one of his knights present, for appearance’s sake, if nothing else.
From what she’d observed, the Black Raven’s men were a well-disciplined troop.
If there were roughness and coarse speech, it was in keeping with most men-at-arms everywhere, Keelington Court included.
Lily tried to work out why the earl would avoid her.
She was convinced he was doing just that, no matter what Sir Lanval said.
And if the knights and the guards would not answer her questions, it became necessary to speak with him.
She could not go to him, so he would have to come to her, she decided.
The issue squiggled and rubbed against her mind over and over. Finally, she concluded that the earl did not wish to be questioned about the direction they were traveling in. That was why he was avoiding her. That was also why they had no interaction with any of the villages they passed.
He wished the direction to remain secret. Why?
That was the question she needed to ask. Now, all she had to do was insist that he attend her at his earliest convenience.
Naturally, the inequality of their relationship meant that he might refuse to answer, might even refuse to visit her. She felt small, overwhelmed. How could she possibly construct a defense against so formidable an adversary?
She wondered what Bee would make of her daunting situation.
For a moment, she wondered if she might try and find Bee. If only she could work out where her sister lived. Her only visit to Fawlsend had been for Bee’s wedding. She recalled that the trip had taken two days from Keelington Court.
And were they not two days out of Keelington themselves?
Deep in thought, Lily looked up to see Sir Lanval approaching through the evening light. He had accompanied the servant bringing the evening meal to their tent.
Lily was ready to tackle him.
“Sir Lanval,” she said in greeting. “Tell me, do you have an answer for me yet?”
Lanval’s smile dipped just a bit. He looked puzzled. “Remind me, dear lady, what the question might have been?”
She raised her brows. “You sir, are sorely misnamed,” she said, deceptively sweet-voiced. “Your most famous namesake would never have given such insult as to forget a lady’s questions.”
She watched the knight’s handsome face congeal in shock. If he expected her usual polite acceptance, he certainly didn’t get it.
“Assuredly, there has been some mistake, my lady. On my honor, never would I permit such. Pray you will accept my pardon if any taint of insult remains.” He bowed.
Lily laughed lightly, seeing his acute discomfort. “Prettily answered, sir knight, but tell me now in compensation. If, as you say, we are going to Holt, when will we arrive there?”
“Well, it depends.”
“On? The weather? It appears no less or more of a hazard than ever. Holt is two days from my home, and tomorrow we will be three days on the road. Explain that.”
“True, as you say, but it does not accommodate for the vagaries of the bandits who sadly haunt this region. I am afraid it takes some ingenuity to avoid them, and it may take longer to reach our destination.”
“Your answer, sir knight, is no answer.”
“I am sorry to hear it, but I assure you there is nothing to fear. Lord Ravensworth is a strategist of some repute. Do not trouble yourself. You are perfectly safe.”
“I think you know full well what troubles me,” said Lily not giving an inch. “I am afraid, I do not believe you, sir knight. Our destination is the issue. Where are we going? And do not say Holt, for I know we are headed in another direction entirely.”
“But, my lady, I distinctly heard the earl tell you…”
“His Arro… he has only said he is taking us somewhere safe.”
“Exactly,” Sir Lanval beamed at her. “There, you see? No need to fret. Your safety and that of your aunt’s is assured. Er… good eve to you,” he told her and attempted a retreat. To no avail.
Lily hadn’t finished. She felt like stamping her foot. On his bootless big toe preferably.
“Come back. You tell…” she began.
Lily took a juddering breath and began again.
“Would you ask…” she swallowed and began a third time.
“I have something I need to discuss with the Earl of Ravensworth. If he could spare the time, I would appreciate his first attention to the matter. I trust I make myself clear?” Gone was the polite parley.
In its place, a temper glittered, one he had not seen before.
Sir Lanval blinked, as if he couldn’t possibly have heard what he had just heard. But Lily, staring back at him, silently dared him to question her further.
“I shall relay your request… er… message, my lady,” said Sir Lanval. There was an unreadable expression on his face. It may have been a perverse sort of amusement. All the same, he made a hasty retreat.
It was near midnight. Lily had long ago dismissed any hope that the earl would comply with her request. It had been only this side of polite, after all.
It was too late, in any case.
His Arrogance.
Unlikely he would pop up at this time of night. Just as unlikely that she would be able to sleep, such was her irritation. She felt as if she might have swallowed a hive of bees.
Indeed, she did not feel in the least sleepy. The quiet sounded loud to her ears. Aunt Celestria had long since retired.
Lily decided to take out her paint box instead of tossing on her narrow camping cot. The pigments were a precious gift from her aunt. She never ceased to delight in looking at all the little treasures she had mixed and kept in tiny pots for safe storage.
Tying an old shawl over her night shift, she picked up the miniature of her sister she’d been working on, hoping it would help alleviate her pent-up emotions. The work pleased her, for she’d managed to capture the burbling happiness of the wedding day in her sister’s expression.
As she worked, her mind went wandering even against her wishes. She seemed unable to shake her irritation. It particularly pricked that His Arrogance had not bothered sending an excuse for not meeting with her. So much for her request.
The sudden slap of the tent flap opening made her jump.
“I gather you have something to discuss with me,” said the earl, his shadowy shape filling the opening.
“You cannot come in here,” she hissed, putting a finger to her lips. “My aunt is abed.” Did this conceited lump of a man know any propriety?
“Might I suggest you come out, then?” but his eyes fell on the small table where she had arrayed her pots of color, paint brushes and the other paraphernalia. “What is that?” he said, his words abrupt as a drum flourish.
“Nothing,” she said, slipping the miniature behind her back.
With a grunt, he ducked his head and swooped inside with all the swiftness and agility of a hunting bird.
He said not a word but grabbed her hand as suspicion darkened his eyes to a molten gold.
He did not hide his astonishment when a minute later he stared down at the square of vellum in her hand. He took it from her.
His eyes flew to her face and brought heat to her cheeks. “Did you do this?”
Lily stared at him, uncertain. He did not leave her to wonder. “It is beautiful,” he said, looking at the work closely and holding it to the light.
She felt his approval wash over her, and inside her, something shifted. A moment of understanding or connection, perhaps? It flustered her. The words sang softly in her ear.
“My sister is beautiful.”
Few people might agree with her, but Lily had idolized her sister all her young life, even though she knew her feelings were not fully reciprocated.
“The work is very fine. I do not know your sister well, but the Stanbury imprint is there.”
Lily felt ridiculously pleased. She ought not to care what he thought, but in truth, apart from her aunt, no one had ever praised her work. Her family had so belittled her skill that her mother had forbidden her to continue.
If it hadn’t been for her aunt, she wouldn’t have.
A light snore from the cot on the far end of the tent alerted them to soften their voices.
The earl gave her the vellum back, and with an inclination of his head, gestured that she should precede him out of the tent.
“The guard,” Lily protested, indicating the state of her dress, but he shook his head.
“I sent him away.”
That hardly gave her cause to lessen her anxiety. Still, she stepped through the opening.