Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry (22 page)

“An ambush?”
Her hand came up to her throat, and for
a moment she was unable to breathe. She felt cold all over. Her limbs shook and her fingers tingled.

Michael simply nodded, offering her no comfort.
“’Tis the truth.
We must away now. Tell your ladies to ride hard. His men have made double time, and are gaining on us. We shall speak further when you are safe and I’ve dispatched of the heathens.”

Elena blinked a couple of times, then, gripping her reins tight, made her way briskly over to her ladies. Within minutes, they were cantering down the
road,
Michael’s shouted orders heard over the thunder of hooves every so often.

While the critical situation unfolded, her mind had been numb. Now that they barreled down the road, her mind found opportunity to wander. Michael had not accepted her apology. In fact, he seemed to almost dismiss what she’d said, acted as if she were a fool to ever think her husband wouldn’t know, and an even bigger fool for not knowing so already.

Tears of anger and regret stung her eyes but she blinked them back rapidly, and with them the dirt that clouded around her and disturbed her vision. Michael was not one to hold a grudge, she reminded herself. He had said he would find time to speak with her later. And truly, she had picked an awful time to talk with him about her feelings when they were on the verge of being attacked. She should have known better. He was a knight after all, and a damned good one. The safety of everyone would come before his feelings, before her own feelings. He hadn’t brushed her off to be cruel, but simply because time was of the essence and if they sat there much longer ruminating on her harsh words they would have been overtaken.

She swallowed back her pain and concentrated on staying on top of her horse. Her leg, hooked around the pummel of her saddle, strained, and her rear bounced against the hard leather. She would be in pain come the morrow, but
the pain would be welcomed to that of death. With that thought in mind, she urged her horse to go faster.

When at first they had planned to arrive at the abbey just before the evening repast and prayers, with the devil hot on their heels, they arrived in early afternoon, covered in a layer of dust, grime and sweat.

The horses’ coats and mouths were frothy, and when the abbey gates were opened to let them in, pages ran hither and yon to take care of the horses. The servants who’d already arrived were eager to assist Elena and her ladies in dismounting, but their excited faces turned somber when they saw the state in which the entourage appeared.

Abbott
Hunsden
scurried from the cloister walkway toward the group in the churchyard, his bald head down as he walked forward, fingers jumping over the rosary tied at his waist.

“Lady Kent, may I welcome you to St. Augustine’s Abbey—and trust that God has seen you well to us.”

Elena curtsied to the Abbott, bowing her head and accepting his blessing. “Abbott, I humbly thank you for allowing me sanctuary. I shall go and rest and pray for the remainder of the day.
I believe Sir Devereux has need
of the utmost urgency to speak with you.”

Heat radiated from Michael’s rigid stance at her side. He bowed and accepted the Abbott’s blessing before following him through the throng of onlookers and disappearing from sight.

“Come, my lady, we must get you behind walls where it is safe,” Fletch said before turning to several monks by the gates. “Lock those up tight, and do not let anyone else pass without permission from either Sir Devereux or myself.”

The monks nodded, even if they looked a bit perturbed. Elena could understand their annoyance since she had disrupted their harmony and prayer, and on top of that now added danger to their normally peaceful existence.

A friar stepped from the crowd. “My lady, I should be pleased to show you and your ladies to your chamber.”

Elena nodded, and when they had only walked five feet
,
a loud male shout from beyond the gate was heard.

“Admit me, monk!”

Chapter
Nineteen

T
here was a wolf among these sheep.

’
Twas he—the wolf—and he would devour them all. He snickered, but quickly recovered himself lest someone see.

They had no idea.

He played his part well, and he’d be compensated for it too. No one would dare to turn their backs on an agreement made with him. Should that agreement not be upheld, he would require blood and pain to appease him.

His eyes shifted from side to side taking in the luscious curves of Elena’s ladies. What he wouldn’t give to have one of them writhing beneath him. And perhaps one night, while these sheep were fast asleep beneath a comforting blanket of feigned security, one of them would go missing.

He’d enjoyed seeing their panicked faces when the front gates were banged upon. Too bad it was only that sniveling lord come to offer assistance to Captain Devereux.

He snickered again, and wiped his nose in an effort to hide his excitement.

“What was that, sir?” a monk who walked beside him asked.

“Nothing,” he grumbled, “just a cough.”

A close call.
He needed to better control or he’d surely find himself in a bind. Not one he couldn’t get out of, but time was of the essence, and he didn’t need to waste any of what precious moments he had.

*****

The chamber was cold, drafty and dark. Little light shone in through the tiny square window, and only one candle had been lit to illuminate the space. Several small cots were pushed against each other and the walls, as if they’d only just been brought in here and placed haphazardly before
she and her ladies arrived. A small rickety table held a wash basin. Beside it sat several trunks which held Elena’s belongings and those of her ladies.
N
o table and no chairs
. W
here would she write her letters?

An empty hearth stood stark on the opposite wall. Elena shivered, the room reminding her of a tower cell. There were certainly no luxuries to be had here. She would be more a prisoner than a person receiving sanctuary. But she supposed she must be grateful, for this place would indeed be more peaceful than her home at Kent.

“Your ladyship, Abbott
Hunsden
wanted me to apologize for the space we have to offer you. With the guest house undergoing renovations as well as most of our living space, the monks have had to sleep crammed just as tightly together. I hope you do not mind? You
r
servants will sleep on the floor of the chapel, and your guards will have to bed down with the horses.” The monk looked ashamed and nervous. He shifted from foot to foot, and his fingers nervously played with the roped belt at his waist.

“What is your name, Friar?” she asked quietly, hands folded in front of her waist, hoping to soothe his fears with her gentle demeanor.

“Friar
Gyles
, my lady.” His eyes were a watery blue, and crinkled at the corners, although his lips did not turn much in smile.

“Well, Friar
Gyles
, my ladies and I are most pleased to be offered quarters here. We seek no luxuries as we are here for prayer, to seek solace with the Lord, to work and for seclusion from a world that can be all too evil and cruel.”

The Friar appeared pleased with her words. “I shall be holding Vespers in the Lady Chapel, which you are encouraged to attend. The bells will chime when it is time. Afterwards, you will be served a small evening meal in our guest dining hall, as the monks prefer to take their meals without the distraction of women. You will be permitted to
attend Lauds—our morning prayer—and Vespers daily, but the remaining prayer times will be for the monks only. I do hope you understand?”

Elena inclined her head in agreement, eager to lay her eyes on the beauty that had been admonished of the Lady Chapel. Friar
Gyles
left the room.

As soon as the monk was gone, she raced to the window to see down into the courtyard. Lord Thomas Devlin had been admitted entrance at
Fletch’s
command, and while he and
Raelyn
had been able to offer each other a greeting, she and her ladies had been immediately swept away.

“What do you see?”
Raelyn
asked, somewhat breathlessly.

The courtyard had cleared of all their guards, and Thomas was nowhere in sight.

“I’m afraid I do not see
him
,
Raelyn
. He must have been taken to Michael.” She gave her lady a small smile, knowing she had really only been concerned about the whereabouts of her betrothed.

Raelyn
nodded and Elena turned back to gaze out the window. Several guards had joined monks near the gates. Her chamber was on the third level of the dormitory, affording her a good view over the thick walls and to the landscape beyond. She could see no approaching riders on the road, but wondered if they lay in wait within the trees beyond.

Everyone knew that monks took to prayer when the bells chimed. Would the heathens who planned to ambush
do so
when they were the most vulnerable?

Her heartbeat quickened, mouth went dry. She bit her lip hard and then felt a soothing hand on her back.

“Let us wash up for Vespers, my lady,” Beth said quietly.
“I know what is going through your mind right now. But do not think on those who would do us harm. We are safe now. Let us do what we came here to do, let the evil reside outside this place.”

Elena nodded and allowed her ladies to undress her and scrape away the remnants of their travels.

There would be time for her to worry later, when the candle
s were
blown out, and the creaks and groans of the abbey walls kept her awake, waiting for someone to burst through her door and deliver her to her death.

*****

Michael watched from his place along the back wall of the church nave as Elena knelt on the floor of the Lady Chapel, her hands clutching her rosary, head tucked down in prayer. The monk’s voices blended together in sing-song prayer. He’d never watched a Vespers service before that was so engrossing. He didn’t know if it was because of the beauty of the newly renovated chapel, or the vision of Elena’s angelic countenance that stirred him more. She looked so peaceful, and he would have to destroy it with even more disturbing news. His eyes shifted to her closest maid,
Raelyn
. The woman would be devastated to learn she could not yet take her place with Thomas.

Duty to king and country called first.

France… A place, Michael did not think he would see just yet, and somehow, he would be there within a fortnight. Good King Henry V had decided that he deserved his crown in France as well as England and there was no time to lose in getting it.

Thomas’ missive from the king, had called upon Michael, not as Kent’s man, but as a man to his father in Ireland, who was still a loyal vassal. He bristled at the news, but when he saw a foreign emotion cross over Devlin’s face, his own irritation abated. The man had been ripe to marry and take his new bride home, only to find out he’d be going to battle instead.

Michael pressed a hand to his friend’s shoulder in a show of comfort. The man gave an imperceptible nod, but his gaze was riveted on his bride. A pang of jealousy filled
Michael’s
ribs for a brief moment. What he wouldn’t give to come home to Elena as his wife.

“We shall bring the hounds of hell upon the French, and return to the abbey as soon as we can,” Michael said, crossing himself at the words he spoke in God’s house.

The service ended, and monks filed out leaving the guests to exit last. Elena came forward, her ladies in tow, all of them
with
heads bowed.

They would now dine in the section of the refractory reserved for guests, although Michael felt little comfort in knowing he would spend the dinner hour with Elena, and having to share the news such as it was. He wished to get it over with, but he would not ruin her meal. She’d barely eaten enough since he’d arrived in England—and even that little bit seemed to be more than she’d eaten before. Her willowy figure glided from the chapel, through the south transept and vestry and into the cloister, toward the refractory. Through the cloister, on the other end, he spied a garden and orchard. That would be the best place for him to take Elena, to relay to her the news he must.

Good God, how would he protect her from Kent if he was in France?

He shook his head, knowing he would have to trust in the men he left behind—how little there would be.

Fletch would have to come with him. Could he trust Jon and Colin to see her safe? The guards he’d brought with him would be called up with Kent’s men no doubt. And then light dawned in his mind—most of Kent’s men would be called up to serve their king as well. They wouldn’t have the time to come find Elena while war waged on the continent. Perhaps even Kent himself would go to France to serve his king. If only God would grant that miracle.

Fortune seemed to have turned the tide for the moment. Elena and her ladies would be safely sequestered behind abbey walls, w
ith the possibility of
all Kent’s
henchmen sent overseas. He couldn’t hope for better protection than that.

The meal was light, consisting of brown bread, salted fish, apples, sweet onions and watered ale. Michael hardly tasted the food, his attention solely resting on Elena. Keeping in line with propriety and the place they now resided, the women sat at one table, the men at another.

At one moment, their gazes connected, and Michael felt the blood in his body stir—with both desire and the need to protect her, to love her and comfort her. She was his soul mate. Had things gone as they planned years before, she would have been his wife in deed. Despite not being able to connect with her truly in the eyes of the church, he would gladly lay down his life to serve her for the rest of his days.

When the plates had been cleared, Michael set his men out on shifts, half to guard the abbey walls, and the other half to rest until their time came to take up vigil.

While his men went about following his orders, Michael nearly lost sight of Elena as she and he ladies slipped out a side door, presumably on their way to the dormitory to retire for the evening.

“Thomas, come with me
.
”
H
e beckoned to Warwick, thinking the man would appreciate a walk in the gardens with his betrothed, and if both ladies should be present, it would cancel out the need for a chaperone, as a man and a woman walking alone in the abbey gardens, particularly two who were not married—or yet married—would be most inappropriate, and Michael did not want to do anything that would jeopardize Elena’s welcome.

He and Thomas picked up their pace and met the ladies just feet from the dormitory entrance.

“My lady, if I may, I would be honored to escort you on a walk through the herbal gardens.
There are a few matters we should discuss before I must depart.”

He watched, with a pain to his chest, as her face fell on
his last few words. She turned and whispered to her women.

“Lady
Raelyn
, if you would, I would be pleased for your company,” Thomas said, his countenance almost bashful.

Michael offered Elena his arm, and sighed with relief when she took it. From the hesitant look on her face, he’d been sure she was going to decline the walk. The play of emotions across her face was confusing.
Women.
They were an odd sort.

They walked through the cloister and into the herbal garden, the scents of sage, rosemary, basil, chamomile, sweet fennel, lavender, mint and marjoram mingled in the air with the sweet crisp scents of the apricot, peach and apple trees.

He glanced down at the top of her head, liking the way the sun set, making the ringlets of her long hair shimmer down her back, and the jewels on her head dress sparkle. As he gazed down at her, she peered up, the expression on her face taki
ng his breath away. She looked…
vulnerable.

“My lady, I hope you have found your accommodations acceptable.”

She smiled at him endearingly. “They are indeed. It is quite different from Kent, but I think my ladies and I shall find peace here.” Her face fell for a moment, showing him a glimpse of sadness before her stoic countenance returned.

“What is it?” he asked, lowering his voice, even though they walked several paces ahead of Thomas and
Raelyn
.

“I shall miss
Raelyn
. I suppose she and Lord Warwick will be married soon, since the special dispensation has already been issued. She is my dearest friend and confidante. Life will not be the same without her by my side.” She hurriedly added, “But I sincerely want her to seek her happiness, and I know she and Thomas share—”

Her voice cracked and she abandoned the rest of her words. Michael wanted to pull her into his arms, stroke her back and kiss her until she forgot her melancholy.