The Lady and the Knight (Highland Brides) (38 page)

The girl cowered away, seeing now that in that instant, Sara had left her. Her eyes went wide, but Boden squatted down and smiled, stilling his laughter to a quiet chuckle.

"Tis a true lady who remembers her friends in the good times as well as the bad. Come," he said, leaning closer to whisper. "This night I will need your bold assistance to keep the jackals from our Sara."

Rising to his feet, he reached out his hand.

Maggie stood like a misplaced wood sprite lost in a sea of humans, her eyes so wide they seemed to swallow her somber little face. Moments ticked by, and then, with shaking trepidation, she reached out and took his hand.

Warmth spurred through Boden at the feel of her tiny fingers in his, and for a moment, he felt his eyes sting with tears. If he started crying, suicide would be the only honorable thing to do, he realized, and turning, followed David to the center table.

It wasn't much later that Boden realized the truth. He hated David—probably always had. He just hadn't noticed before, Boden thought as he stared across the table at the man who sat far too close to Sara. His shoulder was nearly touching hers, and his hands seemed forever wont to stray to her fingers where they shared a trencher. Damn him! If he touched her pinky once more Boden was going to have to— Twas then he noticed that Margaret was plucking at his sleeve. He looked down in surprise.

She'd been absolutely silent the entire meal, even saying nothing when he had insisted on feeding Marten under the table instead of in her gown where he usually ate. The whole while she had sat very close to him, her eyes panicked in her somber face as she skimmed the crowd. But now her gaze was trained on Sir David as he leaned close to Sara.

"What is it, Maggie mine?" asked Boden, carefully keeping his gaze diverted from the couple across the table.

She was silent for a moment, but finally she whispered, "A shrew."

"What?" he asked.

Margaret's gaze flicked to Boden's, then back to David. "'E looks like a shrew."

It was the kindest thing she could have said. For a moment, Boden sat in silent surprise, and then he laughed and leaned close to the child.

"You are astute beyond your tiny years," he said, smiling at her.

Her lips, stained red from the watered wine she drank, curled up just the tiniest bit. But her eyes were not so shy. They danced, and Sir Boden the brave knight was smitten.

This, he thought, was how Sara must have looked, like a tiny rose, not quite in bloom, like a baby swallow, not out of its down, but showing the soaring promise of its grace to come.

"And tell me, wee Maggie," he said, suddenly terrified that he would lose the wild light in her eyes. "What beast do I look like?"

Her expression went utterly sober, though her eyes were just as wide and shining.

"You," she whispered in that voice that was hers alone, "are a charger."

He reared back slightly, utterly surprised. "A horse?"

She bit her lip, but managed to go on. "Aye. Like Mettle... But black..." Her voice lowered to the tiniest of whispers. "...and handsome, and very, very brave."

God! Something ripped in his heart. His eyes watered. He turned away, but there, across the table, as steady as stone, were Sara's eyes, reading his soul like the letters in a book. Her lips curved up slightly, her expression so gentle it made him want to...

No! Dammit all! He was
not
going to cry.

"Blackblade," said David. "Have you swallowed something amiss? Your eyes are watering."

"Oh." Boden cleared his throat and lowered his voice an octave. "Nay. I am fine. Tis just the child's wit. Tis sharp as a Welshman's dagger. I am but trying not to laugh."

"Right." David said, but looked as if he knew far better. "Well, as much as I am loathe to leave such charming company, I would hear your tale. Might we find someplace quiet so we can talk?"

"But Lady Sara..." Boden began.

"I am quite finished," she said, "if Margaret is."

The girl glanced regretfully at Boden then nodded jerkily.

"Then we will have some time," David said. "If you wish to retire, Lady Sara, I would be honored if you and the girl would use my chambers again. But if you are not ready to sleep, please, feel free to visit the solar." He laughed. "Although Avian has no lady, Phoebe insists that it have a ladies' solar. The nest to bait the wren, I believe she said. Ask any servant where it is. Or feel free to explore on your own."

"Thank you, sir." Sara rose to her feet. "We may do that," she said, and rounding the table, took Margaret's hand in her own.

Boden watched them go. Like sunshine at the end of day, they were.

"That bad is it, old boy?" David asked.

"What?" Boden said, narrowing his eyes.

But David only laughed. "Care for a linen to wipe off the drool."

Boden employed his best scowl. "You've never made a lick of sense, man."

He laughed again. "Nay. And you've never been smitten. Not until now. But come," he said before the other could protest. "There are too many ears here."

Closeted away in a small room that overlooked the courtyard, Sir Boden told his story, leaving out nothing but his desire for his master's mistress.

"Then you don't know why you're being plagued by these brigands?'' Sir David finally said.

"Nay." Boden took another drink from his horn mug. "I only know that they mean great evil."

"Already they have done that," David said, "if twas they that killed the babe's mother."

"But I don't know that!" Boden countered. He jerked to his feet to pace irritably. "I don't know who killed her or why. I don't know if the same brigands now bedevil us." He turned to stare out the smoky glass of the narrow window. Below, the courtyard seemed far away and very dark. "What are they after?" he murmured.

"Twould seem they are after the babe, if they did the mother harm and were still not satisfied,"

David surmised.

Silence settled in. Twas then the first silvery notes of the harp floated to them.

"So your lady has found the solar," David said, but now a voice joined in, so dulcet and melodic that they remained in absolute silence, spellbound as the music wrapped them in its enchanted tendrils, driving everything from their hearts but the ability to feel.

Time passed unnoticed until the last note soaked into the night.

David took a deep breath as if drawing himself from another world.

The silence seemed almost unbearable now.

"How will you give her back?" David asked, his tone low. "And to
HaldaneV'

Boden turned abruptly from the window. "What do you mean, to
HaldaneT'

"He's a noble ass. You've never cared much for the nobility."

Boden let out his breath and forced his muscles to relax. Twas clear enough he was looking for an excuse, any excuse, to avoid his mission, but he must be realistic, honest. "An ass he may be," he said. "But he's also the babe's sire."

"But not the lady's husband."

Boden turned away again. "She'll not abandon the babe. Even discounting her feelings for the duke, she wouldn't leave the child."

"Have you asked?"

"I know her well."

"In a biblical sense?''

Boden swung back, fists clenched, anger sparking through him. "She's a lady! Lest you forget!"

David raised a brow. "Nay, I don't forget. But neither do I forget a man I once knew. Little use did he have for courtly love, or any other noble foolishness. Neither was he above being a confidante to the jaded second son of a penniless baron."

"I am still your confidante," Boden said, relaxing a bit. "Or I wouldn't have told you half of what I have."

"And because I am your friend I tell you to think," David said, slamming down his tankard. "If the babe is in danger, the lady is too. Would you trust her to Haldane?"

"Who better than a duke to protect her?" Boden asked, frustration spurring through him.

"Who better than the champion who cherishes her?" David asked.

Boden clenched his fists. "Look at me! What have I? Not even a sword," he said. "Certainly not a home or holdings or wealth. Haldane has all those things. And power to protect her from every evil force that clamors to harm her."

"And what if the evil comes from within?" David asked.

Silence smothered the room.

"What do you mean?"

David paused, his expression strained. "Not all evil seems evil. Some looks sweet and fair, even melancholy at times."

"The confidante I once knew didn't mince words," Boden said, feeling dread build in him like water behind a dam.

David turned, clasped his hands behind his back and paced to the far wall. There he stopped to finger a faded tapestry. "How well do you know Haldane?"

"I knew him when he was still in his full health, before he started weakening. He is a duke."

Boden shrugged, letting those words imply what they would. ' 'I fought for him for most of a decade,"

said Boden, "as did you."

"Aye. His best knights we were. Loyal, though mayhap those other preening peacocks would seem more so."

"Until you left him." Boden said the words as an accusation, but knew it was childish. There was no reason a knight shouldn't take the opportunity to serve another.

"Have you never wondered why I left so abruptly?" he asked.

Boden scowled. "I assumed it was because Lord Bevier offered more—"

"I was betrayed!"

"What?"

David turned abruptly away, but even from behind, Boden could see his tension.

"What are you saying?" Boden asked again.

"By the saints," David groaned. "I don't know what I am saying."

"Who betrayed you?''

"What do you know of Lady Haldane?"

"My lord's wife?"

"Of course your lord's wife!" stormed David, swinging about. "Do you know her?"

"In a biblical sense?" Boden asked.

The corner of David's mouth twitched. "So I was not the only one."

It was Boden's turn to tense now. Perhaps he would be not only a cad, but a foolish cad to share the truth with this man he'd not seen for half a year. "What are you speaking of?"

"She offered herself to you, didn't she?"

"This is my lord's wife we are speaking of," Boden said, keeping his tone careful.

"Aye. Elizabeth, your lord's wife—still beautiful, and noble, with hair like shining sable and skin so soft it all but melts your soul." He paused and drew a deep breath. "She knows."

"Knows what?"

"She knows about Haldane's... indiscretions. And it hurts her. Or so I thought."

"Holy saints, man!" growled Boden. "You're making me daft with your hooded suggestions.

What are you saying?"

"I bedded her!" David stormed. "Dear God I knew it was foolish. But she was so sad, so alone, and so..." He blew out his breath and cocked the corner of a smile. "Damn, I will never forget how her skin felt against mine."

Boden's jaw dropped. "You slept with the duke's wife?"

"We didn't actually sleep."

"David, you're daft!"

The other snorted. "Don't bother to tell me you weren't tempted."

"I may have been tempted. But I have no wish to die with my wick hacked off and my head on a pike!"

"And what do you think will happen if Haldane learns you humped his favorite concubine?"

Boden lunged across the floor and grabbed David's tunic like a dog gone mad. "If you wish to live out the day you'll not use such language when speaking of her."

David's jaw dropped. His eyes went wide, and then he laughed, throwing back his head in glee and finally managing to brush off Boden's grip. "So I was right."

"If you tell a soul, I swear I'll feed your heart to the crows."

"Smitten was hardly the word for you, Blackblade. Whipped like a cur might be more apt."

Boden reached for him again, but David snorted. "Think on it, Blackblade. I've just admitted to bedding Haldane's wife. Are we not in the same vessel?"

"Nay, we are not," Boden said softly. "You did not love her."

David was silent for a moment, then, "Mayhap I did. She was sweet and soft and kind. Or so she seemed. In fact, twas not just once we loved, but many, until finally, in tears, she met me and said that she could not bear the guilt. She was going to her husband to tell him the truth."

"About your indiscretions?" Boden stared in absolute amazement. "But she surely would have lost everything, possibly her very life."

David smiled, but the expression was cynical. "Did I not tell you she was noble? Twas the right thing to do, she said."

"And so you fled!"

He shrugged. "I had grown rather found of my balls by then. Mind you I have no regrets about my exodus; my service to Lord Bevier gave me Avian. But did it not weaken Haldane's power with me gone? The other knights..." He shrugged. "Who were they faithful to? I've had much time to think.

Mayhap too much time."

"And you think Lady Haldane seduced you for her own purposes?"

"That much is obvious," David said. "Tis said I am an exceptional lover."

"Tis also said the moon is made of green cheese. I am not wont to believe it."

David laughed and paced again before becoming serious. "Do you know how many times Lady Elizabeth has given birth?"

Boden shrugged. "Four times, maybe five."

"And each babe has died."

"Surely you cannot blame the woman for her loss."

"And Haldane's mistresses—how many babes did they bear?"

"I'm not privy to the intimate details of my lord's life."

"He was not a faithful man, regardless of his affection for his wife. And despite his age, neither was he impotent. There were many babes—and each of them dead."

Boden watched him, dread a full-blown hurricane in his chest. "You're suggesting terrible things, Sir David."

"I'm suggesting you watch your back, Sir Boden."

Knolltop was set high on a verdant slope where the wind blew fresh and clean.

And there, just down from the hill—Sara, sitting with a babe on her lap and children running round about her.

Sara! Boden's heart ached at the sight of her, at the memories of her touch, her nearness. For a while, for a short bit of heaven, she had been his. No more. Never again. But she was safe now. She was safe.