The Mermaid's Knight (17 page)

And she’d have nothing. No Royce, no second chance at life. Nothing. She hesitated a moment, then touched his chest, trying to get his attention.

“What is it?”

Leah gestured, trying to explain to him. That it was the priest. That he was stealing money from Royce under his nose. That she knew exactly what was going on. But the more she gestured, the more Royce simply looked confused. Frustrated, Leah clenched her hands into fists.

He kissed her forehead. “You can tell me in the morning.” If only she could.

#

“Pack your dresses, Leah,” Royce said to her one morning a week later. “We leave at noon.”

She propped up on one elbow and watched him with bleary eyes, shoving her hair out of her face. Pack? What was he talking about?

Royce was across the room, dressing in a worn pair of breeches. His back faced her, and for a moment she admired the long, muscular line of his shoulders. In the last week, they’d gotten to know each other rather intimately, and there wasn’t an inch of skin on him that she

hadn’t kissed. Now, instead of blushing when he turned and gave her a lascivious, teasing look, she returned it with a smile.

The last week had been one of the most enjoyable – and most frustrating - of her life.

Over and over, she’d tried to tell Royce what was going on. She had to be careful; if Father Andrew found out she was attempting to rat him out, he’d tell her secret. She needed to somehow tell Royce the truth without alerting the priest. But no matter how much she gestured and signaled, no one was able to understand her. She’d have tried to write out the answer, but had no paper. She didn’t know what to do.

So she hid in Royce’s suite of rooms the entire week. She’d managed to avoid Father Andrew as well, switching up the times of her beach visits and supplementing her needs with the occasional private bath or two. The rest of the time she’d spent with Royce, learning about each other, making love, or just enjoying the other’s quiet company.

Leah had fallen head over heels in love with him. She had denied it even to herself for the first few days, but as time passed, it became more obvious. Her heart pounded when he entered the room. A smile from him would make her day – and a frown could easily break it. She lived for the moments when she was with him, utterly aware how time was ticking away.

Muffin had disappeared after scolding Leah and hadn’t reappeared. Leah wondered about this, and it was always at the back of her mind, niggling like a toothache. It bothered her, but not enough to ruin her happiness.

Royce tossed a tunic at her head, laughing when she sputtered and sat upright in the massive bed. “I can see I’ve taught my wench to be lazy.” He leaned in for a quick kiss once her face was revealed again and took the tunic from her, shrugging it over his head. “King Henry is

visiting a nearby holding and he’s promising a tourney. Last I saw the king, I vowed I’d go and joust for him.”

Uneasy, Leah slid off the bed and moved to Royce’s side, lacing the front of his tunic.

She shook her head at him, trying to convey that she didn’t want him to go.

He didn’t seem to notice her reluctance. “I promised the king I’d be there several months back, when he approved my taking back of the castle. However, I didn’t foresee the problems that we’ve been having lately.” A dark frown tightened the edges of his mouth. “Still, a promise to the king is not one you can break. Which is why you’re going with me.” Surprised at that, Leah pulled back, unease shooting through her. There were too many factors to consider. What if something happened to the castle while they were gone? What if Father Andrew robbed him blind? Worse, what if Royce took her with him and there was no place for her to ease her legs?

“Not to worry, Leah. Lots of men bring their mistresses to things such as this. It’s not as if anyone will bother you.” He touched her cheek and brought her face to his for a possessive kiss. “Besides, I’ll be gone for near on a fortnight, and that makes for a long time to have a cold bed.”

She couldn’t put words to her fears. The look on his face told her enough; it was a done deal. She wanted to go with him, even if it was impossible with her legs. If she could keep him away from Father Andrew, she’d have the time to tell him what was going on. She didn’t know how long a fortnight was, but if it was longer than the week and a half she had left, she’d have to think of something.

And fast.

#

The weather was clear and cold when they left Northcliffe, a stiff breeze blowing through Leah’s thick clothing and making her shudder. She huddled closer to Royce’s back from her perch behind him on his horse, and tried not to think about how high up they were, or how uncomfortable riding like this actually was.

Royce waved one last goodbye at Christophe and Giles. He’d left them in charge, and that made Leah feel moderately better. Out of all of them, she trusted those two to keep Royce’s possessions safe.

The priest had insisted on coming with them. “I’ve an old friend that lives there,” he’d said with a soft, almost-genuine smile. “I’d love to see him again if you don’t mind one old priest traveling with you.”

From the wrinkle in Royce’s brow, he’d been frustrated by the request, but he was too polite and respectful of the priest to disagree. He’d had a mule saddled for Father Andrew, and he paced along behind them. The ride, for the most part, was long, uncomfortable, and insignificant. The soldiers traded jokes back and forth as they traveled, and even Leah found herself smiling and blushing at a particularly coarse verse or two.

When the sun went down, their small group began to set up camp. Royce helped Leah slide down the side of the horse, her legs boneless and shooting with pain. In addition to the muscle soreness from being unused to horseback riding, she had her mermaid aches, as well. He chuckled when she nearly collapsed in his arms and held her steady. “Go sit down on, Leah. I’ll come and get you when our tent is ready.” He gave her a lascivious wiggle of his eyebrows and smacked her on the rump, no doubt enjoying the squeal of surprise that she emitted.

Leah hobbled over to a fallen log in a copse a short distance away, trying not to think about the tingling pain shooting through her limbs. She rubbed her legs as she waited, hoping that she’d be able to swing something to help the pain. A sponge bath? That probably wouldn’t work. Maybe a nearby pond? It’d be scummy, judging from the vegetation around here, but a dip was a dip, and it would help her legs—

“Mind if I sit down with you, my dear?”

She looked up reluctantly, and Father Andrew smiled down at her. Her eyes went to Royce. He was standing with his men, discussing something intent, his back turned to her. She glanced at the priest and shrugged, trying to seem casual though her heart was hammering in her breast.

“You were limping,” he noted. “Is it your beast-legs? Do they crave the water?” Her eyes widened, shocked that he would admit something so loudly, but the others didn’t seem to notice. To quiet him, she glared and gave him a curt nod, turning away and clenching her hands so as not to rub her legs any more. If only she could get rid of him.

“How are you enjoying your trip?” He cocked his head, examining her as if he would a strange bird. When she responded with a ‘so-so’ wiggle of her hand that he didn’t seem to understand, the smile on his face grew larger. “Why do you continue to pretend, Leah? Why won’t you speak? Royce won’t hear you, and we both know that you can talk.” She glared at him, her nervous hands smoothing her skirts. They were crumpled into a web of wrinkles after the long ride, and she didn’t have many dresses. Besides, it gave her something to focus on other than the priest’s too-nosy eyes.

“Do you know who will be at this tourney, Leah?” The priest leaned back on the log, stretching and relaxing as if he had not a care in the world. “A great many important men, I

imagine. Men that hate your lover, and men like the king that cannot see his flaws no matter how they pointed out.” He chuckled to himself, as if enjoying a private joke. “I mean to bring those flaws into the light a bit more.”

She glared at him, hating that he held her fate in his hand.

“You see, the king told Royce that he owed a tithe – and a rather hefty one – if he retook Northcliffe from Baron Rutledge. And I have it on very good authority that Royce keeps this tithe on him at all times, though I imagine he’ll divest himself of it when you and him…” He blushed. “You know. The point is, when he is sleeping, you can take the tithe from him. I need you to steal it.”

Steal it? Get Royce in trouble with the king? Frowning fiercely, Leah shook her head and moved to stand up, but the priest put a staying hand on her arm.

“I need you to get this for me… and it’ll be the last thing you’ll have to do. Trust me.” Trust him? She’d sooner trust the devil. She jerked her arm away and scowled down at him.

The priest stood. His delicate fingers brushed flakes of tree-bark off of his robes. “Just do as I ask, Leah. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Her eyes narrowed at his words, but he continued blithely on. “Imagine the pain Royce would feel to see your… true nature.” The blood drained from her face.

Father Andrew smiled, tucking his hands into his long sleeves. “I see that you’ll do as I ask, then? I assure you that he will never find out the truth as long as you behave.” He chuckled, a humorless little laugh. “After all, it’s not as if you’ll tell him, right?” She flinched.

The priest reached out to pat her on the shoulder. “My apologies, my dear. That was cruel of me. I shall pray to God for forgiveness for my petty sins.” He gestured at a copse of trees in the darkening distance. “If you’re looking for water, there’s a stream a short walk up the road.” He left her after that, a small, pleased smile playing on his lips. She sat back down on the log, trembling, and she wasn’t able to stop shaking until long after Royce came to fetch her.

Royce mistook her trembling for fatigue, scooping her in his arms and taking her back to their tent. She tucked her head against his shoulder and let him carry her in. Inside the tent there was a makeshift bed that didn’t seem to be more than a pile of blankets, and a few bags for their things. The interior was cold and dark.

Crossing to the bed, Royce gently laid her down amid the blankets. “Rest, Leah. You’re exhausted. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we should arrive at the tourney.” A surge of possession shot through her, and Leah sat up in bed. She didn’t want him to leave. Her hand stole to his body, and she grabbed him by the hem of his tunic, tugging him down.

“Leah?” The question rumbled in his throat, and she knew it was too dark to make out her face, so he bent down. “What’s bothering you?”

Her hands stole up his body and she searched for his face in the darkness. Leah’s lips found his and she kissed him possessively. She wanted to be inside his skin at this moment, to have him possess her and make her forget everything that was going wrong right now. She needed him.

She felt Royce stiffen in surprise, before he clenched his arms around her and slid down to the bed, taking her with him. Her frantic hands slid along the front of his braies and felt the

erection that strained there, hot and hard, and she felt a surge of satisfaction. “Leah,” he groaned against her mouth. “Are you sure…? My men are just outside…” Her hand slid inside his hose and that was the last time he talked for quite some time.

When she awoke again later that night, the voices outside had gone quiet. Leah lay in bed for a long moment, her eyes open and body tense as she listened for sounds. Next to her, Royce slept, his breathing deep and even. Experimentally, she wiggled a toe under the blankets. Pain crashed through her lower legs, like ripples on a pond, spreading out from the movement.

There was no way she could avoid finding the stream. Not if she hoped to be able to ride behind Royce tomorrow without crying in agony the whole time. Leah held her breath and slowly eased out from under the blankets, every nerve ending tense as she waited for Royce to wake. She’d just explain that she was going to the bathroom, or something along those lines. It was a plausible excuse, she told herself, even if her heart hammered in her breast at the thought of being caught.

But she didn’t have to worry. Royce continued to sleep, his breath low and even, his body unmoving. Relieved, Leah got to her feet and pulled on her chemise, unknotting the tent flap and peeking outside. No one was awake – the huddled shapes near the banked fire were all unmoving. She tiptoed out, holding her breath with each new step.

She managed to walk through the camp without waking a soul. Her eyes squinted as she stared into the dark, trying to determine the direction that Father Andrew had mentioned the stream would be. She’d forgotten her shoes, but it was such a fragile annoyance in comparison to the true pain that shot through her limbs with every step. Still, it’d make the going slow.

With the darkness, she misjudged the path and stumbled through one particularly bushy set of undergrowth, tumbling into the stream from above. Her ankle gave a sharp crack and pain

shot through her leg, and her chin slammed into the bank. Well, she’d found the stream. As her legs began to transform, she jerked the chemise over her head and tossed it onto the shore, letting her body sink under the water, her muscles relaxing.

When she surfaced again, Muffin was there, her legs swinging on the edge of the riverbank, and smiling down at her. She was dressed in a toga, her feet clad in golden, ropy-looking sandals, and a wreath of leaves propped up on her brow. “Hello, my girl. How are things going with that handsome man?”

Pleased at the sight of the fairy godmother, Leah sat upright in the water and propped her arms up on the shelf of soft dirt next to where Muffin sat. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried that you forgot all about me.”

Muffin patted her hand. “Not to worry, my dear. I’m a busy woman, but I’d never forget you. There were other girls to be seen to, and I’m afraid I got a bit carried away.”

“Other girls like me?”

“You’re the only mermaid at the moment,” she said, “but in similar situations, yes.” Muffin smiled down at Leah. “Why don’t you tell me how it’s going?” A knot formed in Leah’s throat, and she had to struggle to speak around it. “It’s awful.”