Across the small courtyard he strode, tall and powerful. Her palms tingled at the remembered feel of those wide shoulders beneath her hands.
Pain sharp as a dagger pierced her heart.
The morning dawned pink and orange, clear and cool. Perfect weather for traveling. With the storm delay, they’d lost much of the time gained, but it couldn’t be helped. Stephen stood in the muddy bailey and surveyed the men as they readied the mounts. Nothing for it but to ride faster, although the road conditions might present a challenge. As long as mud was the only obstacle they faced, he could accept it.
“We can’t leave yet.” Evie appeared from the depth of her tiny chamber with Marie in tow. “The mare must be buried.”
She gestured toward the carcass of the pack horse, which still lay where the lightning brought it down. Not by word or glance did she appear to remember what passed between them.
Stephen steadfastly refused to think about it, too. He had emerged from the ruined undercroft the evening before, ordered Marie to attend her mistress, and joined the men. He avoided Evie for the rest of the night, even when she organized the cold meal of damp bread and cheese. He sent Davy to offer whatever assistance she needed.
He’d not been cowardly, simply busy. Or so he reassured himself several times during the long hours of sleeplessness.
The memory never left him—of her in his arms, her soft body tucked trustingly against his. The passion in her eyes, the small sounds she made as he brought her pleasure, had fed his own desire like oil to flames. Her responses had been innocent but so natural, so right, his control frayed close to breaking. If he had remained with Evie one moment longer, he feared he wouldn’t be able to keep his cock in his braies.
Images of claiming her completely had chased through his mind until dawn.
He jerked his head in disgust. He must forget those moments, pretend nothing of importance lay between them.
It would damn near kill him, but he’d do it.
For her and her future. For himself.
Right now, she stood, fists planted on her hips, demanding his attention. What did she say? Oh, yes. The horse.
“We’ve no time to waste burying the animal,” he said. “The morning is advanced as is.”
Evie crossed her arms. “The poor thing can’t be left out here for wild animals.”
“Where would we find shovels to dig?” He gestured to the littered courtyard. “Do you propose we use sticks?”
The problem gave her pause. But her look of concentration soon brightened.
“Rocks. Drag the mare to the wall—there.” She pointed to a section that had tumbled, where loose stones lay scattered.
He should ignore the request. But the pleading in her eyes made him reconsider. If some of the men helped, the delay wouldn’t be too long. The mare’s packs still must be reassigned to the other animals, and he had to wait for William’s early scouting report before they set out.
Impossible woman. He gave a grunt and nodded.
He turned to Macsen and rolled his eyes. His second in command winked and swung around to gather three others for the job.
The smile Evie threw him warmed the morning considerably. She gestured to Marie, and the two followed the men.
Stephen glanced at Davy. “Best see they hurry.”
As it turned out, stacking rocks over the mare delayed the start not at all. William had found a tree down over the road they’d intended to follow, and while the countryside was sparse enough for his small party to simply skirt the obstruction, the heavy rain had also sent the small stream the tree bordered over its banks. They must detour, which added precious hours to the journey.
Muttering beneath his breath, Stephen called a council with the men.
“We will continue to avoid towns,” he said, explaining the change in route, “but we must reach the cove tonight. There’s another problem. If the storm drove Jean-Pierre’s ship off course, he won’t be following his usual route. Claude, ride ahead. If he’s not waiting, we must make for Boulogne. I hoped to avoid busy towns, but the weather may have made the decision for us.”
Stephen paused. He intended to bypass Dieppe because so many used the port to cross the Narrow Sea. Better to try for their usual passage with Jean-Pierre. But if their friend were unavailable, they must use the alternate plan.
He didn’t know the officials in charge at the Boulogne port as well as he did those at Calais or Dieppe. On this mission, he wanted no undue chances, even with the new identities they assumed. Still, the Phoenix Brotherhood had friends in Boulogne who’d proven trustworthy.
Once Claude removed his monk’s robe and set out, Stephen ordered everyone to ride. He gave a toss of his chin to warn Macsen off, then strode forward to help Evie mount. She accepted his cupped hands for her foot but refused to meet his eyes. Even when he smoothed a palm on her ankle, she merely moved it from his touch without lifting her gaze.
“Are you well?” Damn. He hadn’t intended to ask that. But her attitude had changed so drastically, he thought she might be sickening.
Her glance landed on his chest. “Of course. Thank you for delaying so we could see to the mare.”
That wasn’t what he meant, and she knew it well enough. He caught the flick of her look before she turned away to grasp the reins. Without another word, she rode toward Marie and Davy.
Stephen shook his head in frustration. Ladies were impossible to understand. His decision to stay away from them was a good one. But somehow Evie burrowed under his defenses. Perhaps because he’d known her from the time she was an impish brat.
He paused. After yesterday, all thoughts of the child she’d once been had evaporated. She was a woman now, and holy hell, he wanted her.
He’d get over it. He had to.
As the group traveled, they took to the verge alongside the road to escape the muck. Sooner than Stephen thought possible, Claude galloped into view, a frown twisting his face.
He drew his blowing mount to a halt. “The cove’s occupied,” he reported. “At least a half-dozen, all but one concealed behind rocks. I saw the horses first. They were hid a good ways off the beach.”
Stephen swore softly. Here was further evidence of Brother Michael’s defection, for only the Brotherhood knew of that secluded location. They used it when occasions demanded secrecy, which was nearly always. Their friend’s safety depended on their discretion.
And he feared that safety had been compromised. “Did you see Jean-Pierre?”
Claude shook his head, and Stephen grunted. “The storm may have been lucky at that. Did you leave a sign to warn him?”
“Turned the arrow rock, so it was visible from the sea,” Claude said between coughs. “Nobody down there saw me do it.”
A grim smile curved Stephen’s mouth. “Good work. Are you fit to go on?”
“Always.” Claude braced in the saddle. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “This is my part of the country, Captain. Send no one else.”
Stephen expected that reply. He gripped the other knight’s shoulder. “Change your mount, rest if you need. Then ride ahead and secure us rooms at The Pelican. We’ll likely arrive late. See what ships are available for our good lady, her maid, the holy brothers on pilgrimage, and their guards.”
Claude nodded. He understood the hidden message. Their crossing would be visible and accompanied with all the ceremony a privileged lady might demand. If they couldn’t fade away into the dark as they usually did, then they must hide where no one expected them. In the open.
Later, when the others stopped for what they’d taken to calling “The Lady’s Rest,” Stephen reported the new plan.
“Remember,” he said to the men, “from this point on, we are naught but loyal guards for a lady who is rushing home to her family and who is providing travel accommodations for the good brothers. We require all speed and expect all consideration. And if anyone appears to help you enjoy your drink tonight, learn what you can.”
The men didn’t need that last reminder to take note of suspicious strangers, but the fact he made it reinforced his own lack of concentration. The damned storm had created enough havoc in the countryside; it threatened to leave his life in shambles, as well. The sooner he put last night’s encounter from his mind, the better for him and for the mission.
The day passed more smoothly than Stephen expected. The new route proved a good one, taking them out of the path of most storm damage. Even the muddy roads didn’t slow them overmuch, and once they made the main road east of Boulogne, the speed increased.
Evie seemed preoccupied, keeping to her place in the center of the party. His occasional glance never intercepted hers. Her back remained straight and her chin high; she showed not a spark of unease. Just as well. He hated to think their time together had upset her.
Upset? The memory of her passionate response sent a growl from his throat. He touched his heels to the gelding’s side and galloped ahead.
Claude met them on the south road into the port. He didn’t look happy.
“No vessels,” he reported, smothering a cough with his fist. “The storm blew worse up here. Most put out to prevent being blown into the docks, and they didn’t return. Got one small ship in this morning, but it was hired when I arrived.” He stopped for another bout of coughing.
“Get help for that, my friend,” Stephen ordered. He didn’t like the sound of the rasping rattle. He’d seen a man die of a similar cough.
Finally Claude caught a breath. “The ship’s hired for a Norman lord going to England on the new king’s business. When I explained our lady’s needs, the man said he’d talk to his master. But we got all the rooms at The Pelican. Mathilde says to tell you she’ll have a warm meal waiting.”
The thought of Mathilde’s good food formed the only bright spot of the afternoon, as Stephen rode back to the main party. He hadn’t foreseen a lack of transportation once they arrived. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time when Boulogne’s port wasn’t teeming with ships and smaller boats ready to sail for the right coin.
Waiting for the next one didn’t sit well with him, and he wondered just what inducement would persuade this Norman lord to relinquish first claim. Depended on the lord’s opinion of his own importance, Stephen supposed. In the past, he’d found knights and minor lords fighting their way up in the world tended to be less willing to give way to anyone else. They were too jealous of their positions.
There were exceptions, of course. He couldn’t imagine one of the bishops graciously agreeing to give over his luxurious ship for a minor lady’s demand. On the other hand, who’d be fool enough to call Lady Evelynn
minor
once they glimpsed her smile?
At that moment her smile, turned on a dismounting Claude, curved into an expression of concern when he doubled over with another cough. Not waiting for assistance, Evie jumped to the ground.
“Marie,” she called. “Bring me the bag with the ointments.”
Stephen sighed. God give him strength. He’d fought battles with less trouble than herding around one lady who thought she must care for the world. And the fact she was beautiful and desirable didn’t ease his ability to sit a saddle one bit.
Daylight had long gone when the scattered lights of Boulogne came into view. The Pelican sat close enough to the dock to be handy but tucked away from the main road. As the party wended its way through the narrow streets, smells from the cookshops mixed with that of dead fish and storm-wet wood turned Stephen’s nose. At least the recent rain had mitigated the stench of human sewage.
He helped Evie from the saddle when they reached the small but comfortable inn. “Macsen will see you settled.”
“Aren’t you staying?” Evie looked up in surprise.
“I must engage a ship. I’ll return when I can.”
She started to speak again but stopped when a pair of swearing knights stomped from the inn’s door. She glanced after them, then inclined her head to Stephen.
“See that you do, Captain,” she ordered in an imperious voice he’d never heard her use. She turned to sweep inside, lifting the hem of her gown above the mud. Marie scurried behind.
Macsen threw him a mocking smile and tromped after them. The others dismounted, two of the men taking charge of the horses. They volunteered to remain with the animals rather than trust them to stable hands, even those working for Mathilde. Stephen sent Claude inside to see to his cough. Without comment, two others fell in beside Stephen.
At the dock, they found Claude’s report remained true. Only one vessel large enough to accommodate their numbers lay at anchor. At least, when the numbers included a lady and her maid. If it were only he and the men, they could stow anywhere. They’d done so often enough.
Two horses waited alongside the boat, the rich trapping of one marking its owner as no ordinary knight. “We’re in luck,” Stephen muttered. “This must be the one we need to convince.”
Lips compressed, he motioned Thomas to remain behind. “See where our fine lord has put up,” he murmured. Without a word, the knight disappeared into the shadows.
On deck, the ship’s captain talked with two men. Stephen had no trouble identifying the one in charge. He was above medium height, with a black cloak thrown open over one shoulder to reveal a surcoat that looked deep wine in the dim light of a lantern. When he espied Stephen, he stepped forward, arms akimbo. A large cloak pin at his neck glittered as it caught a stray beam. Establishing his authority, was he? Stephen bit back a sardonic smile.
“You must be the one who wants my ship for your lady.” The lord’s voice was unexpectedly low, requiring people to lean in to listen. Another method of directing attention, for the tone was anything but meek and mild.
Stephen inclined his head. “Yes, my lord. Her brother has ordered her home, and she fears his anger if she delays.”
The lord nodded. “A good, biddable lady, then. I’m happy to hear it. Unfortunately, I must refuse your request. I carry orders from England’s next king. That must come first.”
Something about the man pricked Stephen’s memory. He’d seen him before, but he couldn’t place when or where. No matter. An idea nibbled at his mind. It might be possible…