One Enchanted Evening (21 page)

One thing he could say about his cousins: they weren’t choosey about the places they fought. He saw the thought to use Pippa as a shield cross Boydin’s face, so he immediately plunged his second eldest Sedgwick cousin into oblivion by means of a fist under his jaw. He scarce had time to draw his sword before Martin’s blade came down toward his head.

He never would have called it a fair fight. Martin had had the double misfortunes of being born at Sedgwick and having Denys of Sedgwick as his father. Denys had unfortunately possessed neither sword skill nor the talent of convincing another man to take his son on as squire. Martin was strong, Montgomery would give him that, but he was not skilled. Within a handful of strokes, Martin was swinging so wildly, Montgomery began to fear for what was left of his kitchen. He looked behind Martin at Pippa and Joan.

“Move,” he suggested.

They moved. He pushed Martin back out the door and into the courtyard. Perhaps it wouldn’t serve him overmuch to thoroughly humiliate his cousin, but he supposed there might not be a better way to instill respect in the fool—and whatever other fools might be watching.

He was slightly distracted by the sight of Cinderella fluttering into the courtyard and beginning to shriek out curses in English that singed his ears, but he found that less irritating than what he was used to from Robin in French, so he ignored her and concentrated on beating a bit of deference into his cousin.

Or at least he did until he realized that things on the far side of the courtyard had taken a turn for the worse.

He glanced Cinderella’s way to find she was now shouting at Pippa, who had apparently come outside to attempt to convince her sister to be quiet. Montgomery shook his head. Pippa endured far more than he ever would have, had he been in her shoes.

Such as her sister’s fist in her eye.

Montgomery dropped his sword in surprise. He almost earned a blade in his gut as a result, which he likely deserved. He dove for his sword, rolled up with it, then swept Martin’s feet out from underneath him as his brother-in-law Jackson had taught him. He reached over, clunked Martin on the head, then watched as his cousin slipped blissfully into senselessness.

Montgomery resheathed his sword and ran over to where Pippa was backed up against the castle wall, trying to simply shield herself from the attack of a well-wielded wand. Montgomery pulled Cinderella away and started to reach for Pippa only to find himself with his arms full of a purported Faery Queen.

“My hero,” she breathed.

Then she tried to kiss him.

He was so stunned, he almost didn’t move in time. That she missed his mouth didn’t seem to trouble her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and crawled up into his arms that he had no choice but to provide for her use.

“Let’s discuss what you’ll want to do to win me,” she said loudly.

“Ah—”

“Concentrate on
me
,” she said sharply.

Montgomery didn’t have a choice given that she had taken his face in her hands that were more like claws. He turned toward the hall, managing to catch a glimpse of Pippa as he did. She was bending down and collecting things from the dirt—no doubt the sparkles that had fallen from Cinderella’s gown and wand. Montgomery winced as Cinderella’s crown poked him in the eye.

“Me,”
she commanded.

He caught Phillip’s eye. Phillip needed no further instruction, bless him for being his father’s very canny son. He immediately walked over and stood in front of Pippa with his sword drawn. Montgomery would have preferred to be doing the like, but he couldn’t until he had rid himself of his burden—something he would do at his earliest opportunity. He walked back into the hall with Cinderella.

“Perhaps,” he said carefully, “my lady would like a rest.”

“Are you resting with me?” she asked, tapping him playfully on the head with her wand.

By the saints, nay
was almost out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He took a deep breath, then attempted a smile. “I wouldn’t think to disturb your rest, my queen,” he said, hoping the term would work as well for him as it did for Pippa. “You must rest, then remain upstairs and think on all the things I must needs do to win you.”

She sighed gustily. “I’m hungry.”

“I’ll see to that, Your Majesty.”

That seemed to satisfy her. He carried her through the hall and up the stairs, then set her back on her feet in front of his door. He avoided another kiss, then bowed and scraped his way back down the passageway.

“Lock the door,” he called.

He waited at the top of the steps until he heard the bolt slide home, then he turned and ran bodily into Everard.

“You know,” Everard said slowly, stroking his cheek with the knife he had drawn, “there are very strange portents surrounding that woman.”

Montgomery realized suddenly that his own guardsmen were standing behind Everard, far enough in the shadows that they weren’t readily visible. Their expressions were inscrutable. Montgomery might have wondered at another time why his lads seemed to think he needed protection, but not at present. Everard of Chevington looked capable of just about anything at the moment. Montgomery looked at him coolly.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

“What I’m
saying
, my self-important friend, is that the wench inside your bedchamber is very strange, something that I suppose shouldn’t come as a surprise given that your entire family has a murky reputat—”

Everard stopped speaking abruptly, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell to the floor with an ungraceful crash. Sir Ranulf stood directly behind where Everard had fallen. He resheathed his sword.

“Forgive me, my lord Montgomery,” he said, inclining his head. “I must have tripped on a rough patch in the passageway.” He motioned to his companions. “Help our good lord Everard to the garrison hall where he can be nursed back to consciousness with all due care.”

Montgomery watched as a senseless Everard of Chevington was picked up and carried off to a much less comfortable place than he was accustomed to. Then again, he didn’t suppose Everard had led a very comfortable life so far, so perhaps he would find his temporary accommodations nothing out of the ordinary. Montgomery turned back to his captain.

“I wonder why it is you felt the need to silence him so quickly?”

“Because, my lord,” Ranulf said, “he has a loose tongue and I had heard enough. He has been sojourning about the countryside in the afternoons, chatting up with that loose tongue the local peasantry who are either your missing servants or others with a ready ear for gossip. I thought it best that he cease with those activities.” He shrugged. “If I could somehow help him see the wisdom in that, my honor demanded that I must.”

“Indeed.”

“Indeed,” Ranulf agreed. “I’ve no ear for gossip, nor do I believe what I hear noised about by—” He paused, then smiled briefly. “By those with perhaps a grudge held too long. I find nothing murky about your family at all.”

“Not even Amanda’s husband, Jackson?” Montgomery asked mildly.

Ranulf didn’t hesitate, which was to his credit. “My lord Raventhorpe plucked me out of a life of thievery and worse,” Ranulf said quietly, “for which I will be eternally grateful to him. When the opportunity presented itself to serve you, my lord, I leapt at it without hesitation. As did Alfred and Roland. No small bit of gossip will fracture the oaths we made to you.”

Montgomery dragged his hand through his hair, then smiled at his captain. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Shall I guard your guest here so you can be about other things?”

“Aye,” Montgomery said, “if you would. Until I can sort those other things to my satisfaction.”

“Willingly, my lord. What shall we do with Lord Everard?”

Montgomery sighed deeply. “I cannot imprison him for speaking against me, though I can certainly withdraw my hospitality.”

“You would be more than justified in that.” Ranulf clasped his hands behind his back. “The lads will alert me when he wakes. Shall I then have him put outside the gates?”

“For all the good it will do us, aye,” Montgomery agreed. “Thank you again, Ranulf. I’ll come relieve you after I’ve seen to Mistress Persephone.”

“As you will, my lord.”

Montgomery nodded, then left his captain to his work. He loped down the stairs to the great hall, did them all the favor of rendering Boydin unconscious for the second time that day, then walked out of the great hall and around the corner.

Phillip was currently examining the eye Pippa had been struck in. Montgomery thanked his squire, then took charge of the investigation himself. It was already red, though the eye itself seemed to have escaped damage.

“Phillip, lad,” he said quietly, “run fetch me a rag soaked in cold water.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Pippa leaned back against the wall and said nothing as he took her face in his hands again and lifted it up where he could look more closely at her eye.

“I fear ’twill be blackened by morning,” he said quietly.

“It’s nothing.”

He ran his finger gently over the bone above and below her eye. Nothing was broken that he could tell, but she would indeed bear the mark of it. He released her, then turned to lean back against the wall next to her. “Why do you let her treat you thus?”

She sighed. “No reason that would sound reasonable, my lord.”

“Montgomery.”

“My lord—”

“Nay,” he interrupted. “ ’ Tis just Montgomery.”

“Your servants don’t call you that.”

“And you aren’t my servant, are you? And you’re not hers, so do not let her strike you again.” He paused. He wasn’t in the habit of taking women to task, but he imagined he wouldn’t be above locking Cinderella in a chamber if she couldn’t control her fists. “I don’t like it.”

She looked up at him, a faint smile on her lips. “Very chivalrous, my lord. And trust me, I’ve thought more than once about punching her back.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because I like the moral high ground.”

He almost laughed. He shook his head, then took the cloth Phillip handed him. He folded it carefully, put it over Pippa’s eye, then took her hand and put it over the cloth.

“Hold that there and come rest in my solar. You’ll be safe there.”

“You will be, too.”

He took her by the arm. “Should I worry about Cinderella coming after me next?”

“Your cousins, rather. I don’t think you made any friends today, but I appreciate the rescue. Again.”

He only nodded, then walked with her back to the hall. He made Pippa comfortable in front of his fire before he sent Phillip off for something to eat. He rested his hand on the back of his chair and looked down at her. Her eye was beginning to swell shut, but she made no complaint. He wouldn’t have been nearly so pleasant in her shoes. Then again, perhaps she was simply trying to keep her sister from blurting out dangerous things. That he could understand from his own brushes with men who hadn’t been afeared to call a man a warlock. Who knew what tales the servants had already spread? If Pippa were watched for because of those tales and somehow carried off . . .

Nay, the very of idea of that was unthinkable. The truth was suddenly very plain to him. He should be far more concerned about keeping Pippa
within
arm’s length instead of pushing her away.

There. That sounded reasonable enough.

Indeed, as he studied her sitting there so grave and lovely in front of his fire, her dark hair curling over her shoulders and her arms wrapped around her knees, he decided that it was nothing short of his chivalric duty to care for her. He could surely do that and continue to look on her as nothing more than a sister. His honor would be satisfied, his fears allayed, and his mother made proud. He imagined she would have liked Pippa very much. A pity they would never meet.

He was surprised at how much the thought bothered him.

He was suddenly quite grateful for the arrival of Phillip bearing a bottle of wine and a sack full of things Montgomery hoped they might eat without undue hardship. He relieved his squire of his burdens, then pushed aside thoughts of things that could never be. The worthy task before him was to make certain Pippa was as comfortable as possible. He could spend an afternoon or two with someone he was fond of in a sisterly, very platonic way. No harm would come of it and indeed, some good might instead arise from it. Perhaps Cinderella would learn not to abuse her younger sister so terribly. Pippa might pass a bit of time in a place where she didn’t have to worry about appeasing her sister.

Nay, no harm would come of it.

Not to his keep, not to his heart.

He was sure of it.

P
ippa
dragged her sleeve across her forehead, then winced as the fabric touched her eye. It had been two days since Cindi had punched her and left her with the most impressive shiner she’d ever seen reflected in the blade of a medieval lord’s sword.

Those past two days hadn’t been without their bonuses. She’d spent the afternoons in the solar, discussing politics with Phillip and surreptitiously stealing looks at Phillip’s uncle. Montgomery had joined in the conversations on occasion, but he seemed mostly content to simply listen while frowning over the sheets and sheets of numbers his steward Fitzpiers produced like an inkjet printer in overdrive.

Unfortunately, those lovely afternoons had been balanced out nicely by mornings and evenings spent watching Cindi’s increasingly speedy descent into madness. Pippa had thought her sister was nuts before, but she’d been proven wrong. Cindi had lost it somewhere along the same way where she’d gained the ultimate assurance that she was indeed queen of the castle.

All of which had led Pippa to wonder if there wasn’t something more going on than her sister still suffering from jet lag and buying into her own magnificence. Surely Cindi had to have realized at some point that she wasn’t living in the same vintage castle Tess was. That she hadn’t made Pippa suspect she was indulging in some sort of contraband substance hidden upstairs. Unfortunately, Pippa hadn’t been able to find it. The only time she’d managed to get into Montgomery’s bedroom had been to serve Cindi breakfast and dinner, which hadn’t given her much chance to investigate.