Borderland Betrayal (2 page)

A movement in the shadows caught her attention and she slipped a hand into her apron, clasping around the wooden handle of the blade. A scrawny man scurried into her path, swiftly followed by three others and Ellise blew out a breath. “Adam, ‘tis you? You drunken fool, lurking about in shadows. You scared the wits from me.”

Adam peered at her—through an inebriated haze probably—and grinned as he recognised her. “Ellise? Lovely lass, what ye be doing out at night? Should ye not be tucked up in bed? Or mayhap ye wish to join me in mine?”

Allowing her eyebrows to rise, Ellise skimmed her gaze over the man. A far cry from the handsome knight and certainly not her type. “Even if you were not married, you know I’d not be joining you.”

“Oh, ye pretend to be virtuous but we know ye are not. Witches bed many a man, do they not?”

Stomach flipping, she straightened her expression. Even if Adam was jesting, she did not find it amusing. Such words could get her killed. And they certainly would if anyone found out the truth about her. “You’d best be getting back to your wife, Adam. Before she misses you and gives you a scolding.” Head high, Ellise sidled past the men as they laughed at their friend’s affronted expression.

“Ellise!” someone called after her and she picked up her pace.

Adam would cause no hassle, he was too fearful of his wife, but she did not recognise the other men and was reluctant to find out if they were in the mood for trouble. Flicking a peek over her shoulder, she grimaced as the men clutched at their crotches and made lewd gestures. Lord above, they were drunk. Ellise hurried away, unwilling to listen to any more of their insults, only slowing when their shouts faded into the night.

Bent double, she sucked in a few breaths and glanced around.
Que Dios me ayude!
God help her, now she was lost. The town’s streets wound like vines between the cluttered houses and, in the dark, she had little idea where she was. Durham had only been her home for a few weeks. If she continued through the alleyways she would either end up in danger or even more lost.

Male voices forced her straight and a small flutter of panic resided in her stomach. She needed to get out of sight, and fast. A she scurried around the corner, her foot slipped in the deep grove caused by the carts and a sharp stab of pain speared through her ankle. Ellise fell to the ground with a cry, the dry dirt hurting her palms as she tried to brace herself.

She glanced around and sat up. Curse her clumsiness! Sliding up her skirts, she inspected her foot. She was unable to see the damage clearly in the darkness but it hurt. How was it she saw so many things in her visions but never anything that directly affected her?

She shuddered as Adam’s words echoed through her mind.
Witch.
Aye, it was time to move on again. If anyone found out about her dreams, she would be burned at the stake before long.

Horse hooves sounded, drowning out the sound of approaching voices and Ellise tried to force herself up but her ankle gave way and she tumbled back to the ground, throat tight with fear. The animal approached but before she could glance up at the rider, a hand curled around her arm and hauled her into the saddle. The rider held her firmly, coaxing her into position in front of him before she’d even registered what happened.

“Good eve to you, Ellise.”

The press of leather mail against her back made her breath hitch and she turned to glimpse him out of the corner of her eye. Even though she’d recognised his voice, the sight of him still surprised her. Aye, an angel in disguise. The knight’s golden hair gleamed in the night illumination, short with a slight curl to it, and his chiselled jawline bore a little stubble in the same shade. Underneath the facial hair, a dimple in his chin begged for the touch of her finger and she fisted her hand under her apron.

Strong arms surrounded her, cocooning her in an all too reassuring shield of masculinity. With a flick of his reins, he coaxed his mount into a trot, making Ellise start and clutch at his forearms. It had been too long since she’d last ridden.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she gently released her grip on his arms, the heat of his skin through the linen shirt lingering on her fingertips. He wore no chainmail, only his leather plates, and Ellise thought it brash of him to be so unconcerned with his safety. Big towns were dangerous for noblemen, and she had no doubt her rescuer was a rich man. His well-crafted sword and large horse spoke of wealth.

“Rescuing you, I think.”

Ellise blinked, having almost forgotten her question. “Aye, well, you have rescued me now and you have my thanks. You may release me.”

“And where shall you go, Ellise?” The way he whispered her name made her shudder, as he made no attempt to let her go.

“I know not. But that is not your problem. You showed little concern for my welfare at the inn, why should you care now?”

“I am not heartless. I suggest you be quiet for the journey or I may be tempted to throw you back where I found you.”

Ellise tried to scowl but a chuckle forced its way from her lips. “Ah, knight, you have a most persuasive tongue. Yet am I likely to end in even more trouble should I stay in your arms?”

“In spite of what you may think, I mean you no harm. I had no intention of seeing you out on the street.”

“And yet here I am.”

“And here I offer to rectify my mistake. In my arrogance I wished to show you the error of your ways, and I hope to make amends for my misdeeds.”

“A noble knight wishing to prove his worth to a common thief? Well there be a tale I have never heard before. And yet I was thieving. Do you not feel the outcome was what I deserved?”

The man directed his horse along a wider street and recognition sparked. They were not far from the centre of the settlement, where the richer townsfolk lived. “You are no common thief, Ellise, that is very clear.”

Ellise thrust her chin up. First the knight wanted to play her punisher, and now he played her rescuer. What an odd man he was. “Mayhap I am a criminal of great cunning and my every move is an act. Mayhap I had expected you, the brave dashing knight, to come to my rescue so I could rob you blind.”

With her face turned forward, she felt the rumble of his chuckle against her back. Deep and oddly seductive. For some unknown reason, she suspected he did not laugh much.

“A cunning criminal would not be on the verge of tears at being caught. I have been around many dishonest folk and your reaction was no act.”

“There were no tears.”

Mayhap there were, but Ellise would not admit to that. Tears never helped, something she learned long ago. The knight did not respond and the tension in her chest loosened. If he’d started questioning the circumstances that had turned her to crime, the tears may well have flowed again and she did not want that. An acute ache throbbed in her breast as she thought of her son and she forced the memories aside.

The horse followed the edge of the town square and the knight directed it under a stone archway and into the courtyard of The Rose and Crown stables. Ellise peered up at the large, two storey inn. Its white-washed walls and timbers were clean and well-maintained, and there were no drunken patrons lounging in the doorway or being sick in the streets.

Dismounting, the knight offered her his hand and aided her down. The large hand over her own made her throat constrict and she thanked God for her dark complexion that hid the heat in her cheeks. Ellise winced as she put weight on her ankle and her companion’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Does it cause you much pain?”

“Nay…” She hissed as she tried again. “Aye, a little,” she admitted.

“Give me but a moment.” He pressed her hand into the saddle of his mount, urged her to lean against the cool leather and marched into the shadows of the stables.

Ellise took a moment to admire his walk. Strong and proud, there was no doubting his knightly heritage. She recognised that kind of walk. One that spoke of discipline, confidence, and righteousness. As he came back out, a stable-hand followed, rubbing at his eyes and giving a yawn as he eyed Ellise with a bashful grin.

She longed to fold her arms over her chest and glare at the knight as he returned to her side, but she still needed the support of the horse. Arm easing behind her back, he coaxed her away and encouraged her to put her weight on him.

“I do not even know your name,” she announced as the realisation struck her.

He laughed as he led her toward the inn door, his wide torso providing the support she needed.
And more
. His muscular arm propping her up sent tingles racing through her body.

“My name is James Deveraux.”

“James, whatever are you doing with me?”

His lips tightened as she pulled lightly against his hold. “I am seeing to it that you rest that ankle and have somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“You cannot want me to stay here, surely? They will throw me out.”

“Not if you are my guest.”

“Your guest? You know they will consider me your… your
whore.
”

James shrugged and Ellise shook her head. Either the man meant to have her as his whore or he cared little for his reputation. The term stung Ellise but she’d been called worse and would bear the scrutiny with indifference. She doubted he expected her to warm his bed, even if she sensed a spark of interest directed her way from him. The man clearly lived and breathed the chivalric code.

“Well on your head be it. I shall take no blame when your repute is well and truly tarnished.”

“Ack, ‘twould do my repute no harm to be seen with a bonny lass. Many a noble man takes a woman to bed with him upon visiting The Rose and Crown, just as long as ‘tis done quietly.”

Ellise attempted to ignore the flurry of delight his words caused and forced a serious expression on her face. “Not you though, I’d wager.”

“Aye, well, I do not make a habit of paying women to join me in my bed, I’ll admit that much.”

And other women? She urgently wanted him to deny the presence of any other women in his life, even knowing she had no right to such knowledge. A man like James likely had a wife or was surely betrothed.

The pain in her ankle all but forgotten, she found herself faced with a steep set of wooden stairs as James led her past the main hall. The inn smelled of herbs and ale and jovial laughter rang out. Here the candles were wax and no smoky atmosphere or unwelcome smells swirled about the air. Ellise had practically forgotten what the finer side of life looked like. Did her son still enjoy that kind of life?

Even with the support of James, her first step up sent a shaft of pain through her ankle and she released an unbidden cry. With a muttered curse, he yanked her into his arms and carried her easily up the steps. The moment ended too quickly when he placed her down, and Ellise fought the need to pout in disappointment. No man had ever taken her in his arms before. She had to admit to liking it.

Arm slung around her once more, he eased her along the balcony and into one of the end rooms. Laid out across the entire end of the building, James’ lodgings were clearly superior. She peeked sideways at him. She had thought him just a knight but mayhap he was a lord.

He led her past a large bed, the red drapes concealing most of it and helped her onto a long carved bench under the window. Ellise sank gratefully onto the padded cushions and observed as James removed his sword and laid it carefully across a writing desk in one corner before shrugging out of his armour and hooking it over the back of a chair.

James sent a glance her way but Ellise couldn’t make out his expression in the candlelight. It was too quiet. Her usually bold tongue refused to work and her chest felt clogged as he stalked across to stand in front of her. She traced the cut of his chausses, up to his loose shirt and let her gaze linger on the glimpses of tanned flesh at the collar. He swallowed and she found herself doing the same as she watched the cords in his neck move. Finally she braved a peek into his eyes.
No man should be blessed with such beautiful eyes.

 That green gaze roamed over her before settling on her ankle and he scowled. “You should raise your leg, lass. Prop it up on the bench.”

The sudden order snapped her out of her haze. Inching her skirts higher, she studied her bare ankle. Red and swollen, the sight made her grimace. But it was her filthy leather shoes that really caused her to cringe. She could hardly put them up on the chair.

“Mayhap I should have a maidservant attend to you.” James clasped his hands behind his back and rocked briefly on his heels.

Ellise tilted her lips. “I think they will not attend a woman like me.”

“They would if I asked it.”

So sure of his own power. Ellise shook her head. “Mayhap. But I should not like it. I can attend to myself. Pray, is there somewhere I can wash? I wish not to soil the finery here and alas, I have been out all day and the dust clings.”

“Aye, of course. Have you a change of clothes? Or something you can sleep in?”

A rush of heat flooded her body. Foolish woman that she was, the reality of sharing a room with the handsome knight was only just sinking in. Thank goodness she had lost all worries of propriety long ago. She no longer cared for her reputation, for the good it had done her. Repute meant little on the streets of Northumbria’s towns.

James continued to watch her and Ellise offered an apologetic smile. “I-I have a spare chemise in my apron but naught else.”

He nodded thoughtfully as if weighing up their options before pointing at a set of curtains at the other end of the room. “There is a washbowl and cloths there. I will see if I cannot beg a gown or robe from one of the serving girls when I request some food.”

“I thank you, James.” Ellise realised by now there was no use in arguing with him. Too used to getting his own way, she decided. With a commanding manner like his, everyone likely bent to his will. And his angel-like looks probably did no harm either. She imagined the serving girls falling over themselves to help him. She made to stand and he came speedily to her side but she brushed him off. “I am no cripple and I have no wish to have you aid me in washing.” She bit back a laugh as he jumped back at her words. He likely felt the lack of propriety far more than she did.