Читать книгу Her Knight Protector - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 9

‘I t seems that I already have, sir,’ Katherine replied and her heart skipped a beat as his look seemed to caress her. There was something about the curve of his mouth and the expression in his eyes then that made her feel that she might trust him with more than her secret. When he looked at her in that way she was ready to swoon. She could almost believe that he might feel more than friendship towards her. No, that was mere wishful thinking on her part and foolish. ‘In truth I believe I have no choice.’

Alain reached out to take her hand, holding it for a moment as he gazed into her face. ‘I thank you for that trust, Katherine, and do swear to assist you in your task to find the right home for your father’s treasure.’

‘But where should that be?’ Katherine asked. The question had exercised her mind all too often. ‘In a great church or in the house of some powerful king?’

‘That is a weighty question and not one that can be answered immediately,’ he replied. ‘And now, my lady, may I take you to supper? It was for this purpose that I came, fortunately in time to hear Maria’s screams.’

‘Yes, I thank you,’ she replied and laid her hand on the arm he offered. She could see from Maria’s expression that she believed she had spoken too freely to Sir Alain—but what else could she do? She must trust someone, for it seemed that the Lord of Ravenshurst was determined to steal her treasure no matter what.

She had told Sir Alain nothing of her suspicions of Celestine, Katherine realised, as they went into the banqueting hall and discovered that Celestine was already there, sharing a glass of wine with Sir Bryne and a tall, handsome gentleman. Celestine was smiling invitingly up at the newcomer, seeming to enjoy his attention. Observing his manner for a moment, Katherine guessed that he was the owner of the villa.

Marcus Aurelius Calabria had returned to Rome from his travels and was delighted to find he had unexpected guests. Especially one as beautiful as the Lady de Charlemagne.

He turned as Alain approached, greeting him with evident pleasure, his eyes moving over Katherine without registering interest and returning to Celestine almost immediately.

‘It was the most delightful surprise to discover that we had company,’ he murmured. ‘I do trust that you are to remain with me for some time?’

‘For a few days only,’ Sir Bryne replied as Celestine merely fluttered her long lashes at him. ‘The ship we travel on is making repairs and should be ready to sail within the week—but, for myself, I intend to return to Rome often. With the opportunities for trade that have opened to us, I think I may make a home in Venice one day. I would see England and my family, but I think the climate there too dark and dank to hold me forever.’

‘It is often the case with those who have seen other lands,’ Marcus replied with a smile. ‘I have visited your country, Bryne, as you know, and formed friendships with your father and others—but I would not care to live there. It is a dark, gloomy place, too full of mists and frosts for my liking.’

‘Indeed, I wonder if I shall find my home too gloomy,’ Celestine said and fluttered her long lashes at him. ‘Especially after seeing your beautiful home, sir. I had not known such places existed.’

‘I thank you for your compliment,’ he said and inclined his head to her. ‘We live much as our ancestors in ancient Rome, lady, for my family have a long tradition. In the north we have a castle as dark and cavernous as any you might have encountered, for my uncle is Duke of Ferencia and guards his lands as best he may. I have been visiting with him for a time, but here in my summer home I enjoy the simple life. In Rome we have no enemies and may walk freely as we will.’ He saw Alain’s frown and raised his brow. ‘Something troubles you, my friend?’

‘I would have a few private words with you, Marcus,’ Alain replied and drew him away from the Lady Celestine. In a moment Marcus was heard to exclaim and look angry and then he and Alain left the room together, deep in conversation.

‘What has happened?’ Celestine asked, startled by such a change in her host’s behaviour. She was slightly annoyed, for she had felt that she was making a favourable impression upon their host.

‘Sir Alain drove off two men who were searching my room,’ Katherine told her. ‘They had knocked Maria down and might have killed her had he not arrived in time.’

‘God have mercy!’ Celestine had gone pale and crossed herself. ‘Thank goodness you were in the garden with me, otherwise you might have been hurt, Katherine.’

Katherine frowned. The older woman seemed concerned for her and it would be churlish to suspect her of having asked her to walk in the gardens merely to get her away from her room. She noticed that Bryne’s eyes had narrowed, that he was looking very thoughtful. What could have brought that expression to his face?

‘Yes, I was fortunate,’ she said. ‘But my poor Maria might not have been had Sir Alain not chanced to hear her cry.’

‘Maria is a servant—’ Celestine began and then realised her mistake. ‘But of course I know that she is dear to you. Yet I cannot help be thankful that it was she who discovered the villains and not you, Kate.’

Katherine gave her a cold look. ‘Maria is my friend, not a servant. Please remember that—and I would prefer that you call me Katherine. Only my father called me Kate.’

‘Forgive me. I did not mean to offend.’

‘It is merely a preference…’

Katherine was ashamed of the coldness in her voice, but she could not help it. Deep down inside her, there was something telling her that Celestine’s friendship was false and she could not dismiss the warning.

Sir Alain and Marcus had returned to the company now. They spoke briefly to Bryne, and then Marcus clapped his hands and the servants began to serve supper.

As in ancient times, when the Romans held their great banquets, the company sat on benches or silken cushions piled on the floor and ate with their fingers from low tables. Finger-bowls of silver and gold had been provided for washing the hands, and music was played to entertain them while they ate and talked.

This was not a great banquet, merely a gathering of a few friends, but the food served was rich and there was what seemed to Katherine to be an endless stream of exotic dishes. She ate sparingly, enjoying most the fruits and dates. Occasionally, she dipped her fingers in the scented water and wiped them on a soft cloth to dry them. The wine was heavy and potent. She drank, as sparingly as she ate, from a wine cup, which was fashioned of silver and studded with precious jewels on the foot. Through the open arches that led out to the gardens floated the scent of night-flowering blooms. The sky was dark, but the stars were sprinkled generously across the velvet blackness.

‘It is the stuff of dreams, do you not think so, lady?’ Sir Bryne asked as he leaned towards Katherine. Celestine was laughing with their host and Alain seemed to be lost in thought. ‘Marcus and his family know how to enjoy life, do they not?’

‘It is certainly most pleasant,’ Katherine replied. ‘Do you truly intend to make your home in Venice one day, sir?’

‘It is the greatest trading nation on earth,’ Bryne replied, looking thoughtful. ‘A man of enterprise might become wealthy there beyond his dreams, and powerful—especially when he has good friends. I have certainly considered it, but I must see my home and family once more before I decide.’

‘Have you a large family?’

‘My father was elderly when I left England and may not be still living, but I have elder brothers and they have wives and children. I hope to find some of them alive and well on my return.’

‘You have no wife, sir?’

‘No.’ Bryne frowned. ‘There was a lady once…but she married another, richer man and I put all thoughts of marriage aside and determined to make my fortune. Yet I suppose I may marry one day, if only in the hope of a son to follow me.’

‘And Sir Alain…?’ Katherine asked and then blushed as his brows rose. ‘Forgive me. I ask too many questions.’

‘I believe he has not thought of marriage as yet, lady.’ Sir Bryne smiled at her and Katherine lowered her eyes. She must be more careful of her words or she would give herself away, and that would be embarrassing. ‘Though with such a man it is not always easy to know what is in his mind.’

Sir Alain seemed to have shrugged off his reflective mood and was now laughing and talking to Celestine, apparently enjoying the pleasure of her company. It was clear that he found her attractive, which was natural, for she was very beautiful. Feeling a tiny pang of disappointment, Katherine scolded herself for allowing the green-eyed monster of jealousy into her heart. She could not blame Sir Alain for finding Celestine fascinating. The older woman was both beautiful and charming…even if Katherine did suspect her of being false.

But perhaps she was letting her emotions blind her. She had no right or cause to be jealous. She must put aside these foolish ideas and thoughts that had begun to creep into her mind, plaguing her whenever she was unwary enough to let them.

Sir Alain had turned his head and was looking at her now. Katherine glanced quickly away, for she could not meet his gaze, which was concerned and thoughtful, but not the kind of look he bestowed on the lovely Celestine.

She knew he thought her a mere child, and perhaps she was compared to Celestine. Yet she felt like a woman, and her heart ached for the tenderness she was developing towards this man, foolish as it might be.

‘Our host was telling me of a shrine in his garden,’ Alain said now. ‘This villa was built on the site of others that had been here since the great days of Rome. There was once a temple to the goddess of love here, and a shrine still remains.’

‘How very pagan,’ Celestine said, ‘and rather exciting. I should love to see this shrine—would not you, Katherine?’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ answered Katherine a little uncertainly.

‘The time to see it is at night when the moon shines, for the goddess loved the moon,’ Marcus Aurelius told them. ‘If it pleases you, I shall show you now, for the moon hath come out from the shadows and will light our way. It is said that, if you please the goddess, your heart’s wish will come true.’

‘Oh, we must see this shrine,’ Celestine exclaimed. ‘Do say you want to see it, Katherine!’

‘Very well, if you wish it.’

Katherine rose reluctantly, but it was clear that Celestine was eager to see the shrine of the goddess of love. She was walking with her hand upon her host’s arm, teasing him with smiles and words as they walked just ahead of the others.

‘Are you offended by the thought of a pagan goddess?’ Alain asked Katherine. She gazed up at him for a moment, her eyes wide and serious, before shaking her head. ‘Then is it the Lady Celestine that offends you?’

‘Neither,’ Katherine replied. ‘I am a Christian by faith, sir, but my father was a great scholar, as I have told you, and we discussed other forms of religion. I dare say there is merit in many of them, but I would not put my faith in anything a pagan goddess might reveal to me.’

‘Would you not?’ Alain gave her a wicked smile, which made her catch her breath. Something inside her made her feel as if she would melt in his warmth. How handsome he was when he smiled like that! And how foolish she was to let it affect her this way. ‘Not even if you might gain knowledge of your heart’s desire?’

‘I have no desires, sir,’ Katherine replied with commendable dignity in the face of his provocation. Her heart was racing like the wind, but she would give him no indication of the confusion his teasing aroused in her. What was this strange feeling inside her—was it what they called desire? If so, she had no right to feel it for a man who had no such feelings towards her. ‘I am not like to find a lover nor yet a husband, for I have no fortune and my face is unremarkable.’

‘You are not a beauty,’ Alain said, looking at her seriously now. ‘But you have something about you, lady, that many would find attractive.’

Katherine laughed merrily. ‘You are kinder than my father, sir, for though he loved me dearly he never thought me other than plain. He told me that I was unlikely to wed without a large dowry and I have no thought of it.’

‘Are men such fools that they must have either a pretty face or a sack of gold?’ His brows rose, but the expression in his eyes puzzled her since she did not know what lay behind it.

‘I do not believe that all men are fools, sir. Indeed, I would not think either you or Sir Bryne a fool—but still I do not believe that I am likely to find many suitors…and perhaps no one I would care to accept. I would prefer to remain unwed rather than make an unhappy marriage.’

‘That is your choice, of course.’ He hesitated, his eyes making her heart thud in her breast as she felt something stir inside her—a feeling so sweet, like warm honey—and was almost breathless. ‘But what of love and the fulfilment of your destiny?’ His brows rose as he teased her and her foolish heart leaped. Why did she feel so light-headed—almost as if she could walk on air?

‘If I found love, that would be another matter,’ Katherine said and her smile lit up her face, though she managed to retain her appearance of cool dignity. ‘But I fear my destiny may be to remain unwed until I die.’

‘That would be a sad destiny for one of your nature,’ Alain said and the soft tone of his voice set her insides churning. She was hot with something that she suddenly knew for desire. This was how a woman felt about the man she loved, and Katherine could no longer deceive herself. She had for her folly fallen in love with Sir Alain de Banewulf!

She glanced aside, for she could not bear that her own expression should give her away. It was surely unmaidenly to have such desires. Besides, he had given no indication that he felt anything of the kind for her. He was kind and concerned for her welfare, but nothing more. To reveal her foolish passion would humiliate and shame her.

Fortunately for Katherine they had reached the shrine and, after some exclamations from Celestine, the small group fell silent. It was a beautiful spot in a small grove. The shrine was just a pile of stones that most would ignore, but it was surrounded by fragrant shrubs and vines that sheltered it from prying eyes, and there was a quietness about the place that touched the soul.

Katherine was very aware that this was a holy place. As a Christian she could not worship the deity that had been consecrated here, but she felt its power and its goodness. There was no evil here, just a benevolent kindness that seemed to reach out and envelop her—the feeling of love so strong that she found herself wishing for something so ridiculous and smiled to herself.

Foolish, foolish Katherine! Sir Alain would never love her as she loved him.

‘What must I do to please the goddess?’ Celestine asked of her companion and broke the feeling of reverence that had held them all until that moment. ‘Shall I give her my silver bangle?’

‘In ancient times women gave her gifts to learn the secrets she knew,’ Marcus Aurelius replied. ‘But I have been told that the gift must come from the heart—and a simple thing will find more favour than a rich jewel.’

‘Then I shall not give her my bangle,’ Celestine said. ‘For it is one of my most precious possessions. I shall think of something else and visit her another day—for I would not have you hear my demands of her.’ She gave him a mocking, inviting look.

Katherine turned away with a little shiver of disgust. It seemed that Celestine used her smiles indiscriminately on all men to get her way with them. She had seemed to entice Sir Alain with her inviting looks, but now she was more interested in their host.

Katherine noticed that Sir Alain was watching and frowning, and she felt her heart contract with pain for him. She was sorry if Celestine had hurt him, for he was a gentle and true knight and she did not want him to suffer a broken heart.

‘I shall take you back to the villa,’ he told her, turning his back on Celestine. ‘Come, lady, I would see you safe and the hour grows late. I shall not see you in the morning— I have some business I must attend before we leave Rome.’

Katherine made no reply, simply turning with him and allowing him to lead her back to her own room. He said good-night to her, made her a courtly bow and waited until she was inside the villa before turning away.

Would he return to the others—or would he prefer his own company? He seemed to spend much time in thought and she wondered what kind of a man he was inside. In truth she hardly knew him. Perhaps it had merely been the moonlight that had played such a trick on her? How could she love a man she did not know?

Smiling at her own impudence, she went to perch on a stool and sat dreaming as Maria came to free her hair of its covering and brush it so that it flowed over her shoulders in soft waves. Now, if she had but known it, with that look upon her face, a gentle smile curving her lips and her hair reflected in the moonlight, she was truly as attractive as Alain had told her. But she had no mirror to see her own reflection, nor would she have believed it had someone shown her. In her own mind she believed herself plain and nothing could change that long-held opinion.

The night was too beautiful to allow for sleep. Katherine was restless and rose from her bed, looking out at the moonlight. The scent of the wisteria that hung on the villa walls was strong and made her somehow wistful. Perhaps it was the full moon that kept her from sleeping—or was it something else?

There had been a sound… There it was again, the soft tinkle of a woman’s laughter. Celestine was in the garden. Now Katherine could hear the deeper laughter of a man. Two figures had come into view. They lingered for a moment in the moonlight, the man drawing the woman into his arms to kiss her.

Katherine watched as Celestine arched her head back, her manner that of surrender to his desire. It was an intimate moment and private. Withdrawing from her window, Katherine felt hot and ashamed of spying on the lovers.

She had not been able to see them clearly enough to know who the man was, but she suspected that it was their host. Celestine had been doing her best to tease him all evening. And now it seemed that they had an understanding of an intimate kind. Perhaps she would stay in Rome with him.

Feeling even more restless than before, Katherine returned to her bed and lay down. Seeing the lovers entwined in that passionate embrace had made her more aware of all that was missing in her life. Would she ever know that kind of intimacy? It was unlikely, for who would want to lie with her? She had thought that she could face a life without love, but that was before she had looked into a pair of blue eyes and seen a smile that made her heart beat faster.

She knew that once she had parted from Sir Alain her life would seem emptier than before—but there was nothing she could do but accept her fate. To sigh for the impossible would only bring her unhappiness.

‘Are you thinking of staying here for a while?’ Katherine asked Celestine as they walked in the villa gardens the next morning. ‘Our host has said that we are welcome and you have expressed doubts about returning to your dower lands.’

And she had seen that kiss in the garden the previous night!

‘It would suit me to live here as the wife of such a wealthy man,’ Celestine admitted. ‘But our host already has a wife. They live apart for much of the time, but there is no chance of another taking her place. I dare say I might be his mistress if I cared for it.’

‘I see…’ Katherine glanced at her curiously. Had that kiss meant nothing to Celestine? ‘Are you attracted to Marcus Aurelius?’

‘As much as I am to most men,’ she admitted and laughed as she saw Katherine’s look of inquiry. ‘Do not be shocked, my sweet Katherine. When you have been married you will understand that all men are much the same and desire only one thing of a woman. Understanding that is the key to getting what you need from them. For as long as you keep them wanting, they will do anything to please you. But their passion soon tires.’

Katherine was shocked at the cold calculation she saw in the other’s eyes. ‘But what of love?’ She echoed the question Sir Alain had asked of her the previous night. ‘Does that mean nothing?’

‘It is a myth,’ Celestine said mockingly. ‘Do not believe those sweet songs the bards sing, Katherine. They are meant to lure the unsuspecting woman into a trap. Men use courtship to gain what they most desire. Once they tire of their pleasure, they care not what becomes of the woman they once professed to love.’

Katherine was silent, though her mind denied Celestine’s words. She knew it was not true. How could it be? Her father had loved her mother until the day he died. Her memory had been as a shrine to him and he had never despoiled it. Perhaps such a love was rare, but it did exist and Katherine knew that she could never be satisfied with anything less.

‘No, no, I shall return to France,’ Celestine said as though making up her mind. She turned her coaxing smile on Katherine. ‘And I hope to persuade you to be my companion, dearest girl. Have you made up your mind?’

‘Not yet,’ Katherine confessed. ‘Whatever happens, I must see my uncle first, Celestine—and then who knows?’ In her heart she knew that she would never want to live with this woman, but it might be best to let her believe otherwise.

Celestine had as yet given her no reason to suspect her of treachery, and yet she could not trust her.

‘Why so pensive?’ Maria asked as she dressed Katherine’s hair that evening. ‘I hope you are not being foolish, my dove?’

‘What do you mean?’ Katherine avoided her faithful nurse’s searching gaze. ‘No, do not tell me. I am in no mood for one of your scolds.’ She had not seen Sir Alain all day and had discovered that she missed him almost more than she could bear.

‘It will end in tears.’ Maria shook her head at her. ‘He thinks you a child. ’Tis the other one he lusts after, mark my words. That one will have them all running after her like panting dogs.’

‘Maria! I will not have you say such things.’ Katherine turned away from her angrily. She did not care to hear Maria’s words, though she knew they were said for her benefit. Had she mistaken the look she’d seen in Sir Alain’s eyes? It had been brief, yet she had thought for one glorious moment that he might care for her—but Maria’s words had made her doubt. Why should he look at her, slight and plain as she was, when he might have another, more beautiful woman if he chose?

Donning her mantle, she left her chamber and walked through the gardens towards the banqueting room. It was such a lovely night and her heart yearned for something—for love.

She smiled and shook her head over her own foolishness. It was the memory of that pagan shrine and the way it had reached out to something inside her, making her feel that she, too, might know the sweetness of love. She must be sensible. She must remember who and what she was, and that love was not for her.

Hearing laughter ahead of her, she stopped as she saw a man and a woman walking towards the house. They had clearly been strolling in the gardens and she realised that it was Celestine and Sir Alain. He had returned from his business and sought out Celestine, not Katherine.

Celestine was smiling up at him, and he was laughing, clearly enjoying her company. They looked so well together, and Sir Alain seemed to find Celestine amusing company.

Katherine turned away, the pain of seeing them in such intimacy striking deep. Maria was right! She would be a fool to hope for anything more than friendship from Sir Alain. To dream of him could only bring her pain.

Was it he Katherine had seen kissing Celestine the previous night in the moonlight? She had thought it someone else, but now she could not be sure. The image of Sir Alain kissing Celestine…making love to her…was too painful to be borne and Katherine dismissed it, forcing a smile to her lips as she went to meet them.

She had no right to expect anything. No right to be jealous of the intimacy between Sir Alain and Celestine.

‘Ah, there you are, dearest child,’ Celestine said and gave Katherine a false smile. ‘We were just talking about you. This sweet, foolish man was worried about your safety, but I told him you would find your way to supper without his help—and now you see that I am right, Alain.’

‘Marcus has posted guards to prevent another unpleasant occurrence,’ Alain told Katherine. He looked at her gravely and her heart sank. Was she merely a burden, a duty to him? ‘But I would have come for you had you waited a little, lady.’

Katherine’s head was held high, pride in every line of her body. ‘I am perfectly able to find my way to supper alone, sir,’ she said. ‘Nor would I want to deprive you of your pleasure.’

She walked past them and into the house, the sound of Celestine’s tinkling laughter following her. She was a jealous child, Katherine admitted to herself as she fought for composure. It was a fault in her and something she must conquer. Yet she could not deny that she felt resentment against Celestine for taking so lightly something that Katherine desired too much. Yes, she was jealous. Why else would she let herself be so affected by the sight of Sir Alain and Celestine together?

Tears pricked behind her eyes, but she fought them back. She was not going to cry, no matter how much it hurt!

Alain stood looking out at the moonlight. It was a glorious night, too beautiful to be alone. He did not know why he could not sleep, yet his thoughts had kept him restless. It was a night for lovers. He would not see many of its like once he returned to England. Yet he had chosen to keep his own company.

It would be pleasant to walk for a while. At least then he might settle himself, put his mind at rest. Something had been bothering him for the past few days. Something to do with Celestine, with the sly look he had caught in her eyes at times—or was it Katherine who bothered him? The two seemed bound together in his mind, both part of the puzzle that plagued him.

Celestine was undoubtedly beautiful, a woman that any man might crave in his bed, and, for a short time, he had felt desire for her—but there was something about Katherine that made him want to protect her. She was vulnerable, in need of his help, and sometimes when he looked into her eyes, a strange desire to sweep her up and ride off with her, to protect her all his life, came into his mind. It was foolish, for she was not at all the kind of lady he had thought to make his bride.

He walked as far as the end of the garden, gazing down at the city below, which was for the most part in darkness. The moon had been obscured by clouds and for a moment the sky was almost pitch-black. But he could hear voices—a man and a woman arguing. The man sounded angry and impatient.

‘You make little progress, my lady. My patience grows thin. If she gets clear to England…’

‘I have done what I could. Your men had their chance. You should blame them, not me. I did my part in the affair.’

‘Have you seen nothing of it? She does not confide in you?’

‘I am trying to win her trust. These things take time, sir. You are too impatient.’

‘If I thought that you had betrayed me…’

‘You would kill me?’ Celestine’s laughter was soft and mocking. She was clearly unafraid of his threats. ‘Where would that get you, my friend? Without me she will cling more closely to our gallant protector—and I do not think you have the courage to challenge him.’

‘Damn you!’ There was a growl of anger, swiftly followed by a curse. ‘I swear I’ll kill you one of these days, Celestine.’

‘But you love me—you love what I do to you, my sweet, don’t you? I can make you purr like a kitten if I choose, do not forget that. I think you protest too much. Was it not I who—?’

Her words were cut off abruptly and the sounds became more intimate. Alain had no doubt of what was happening somewhere in the darkness. Celestine knew this man well, that much was certain. She had met him here by appointment rather than chance.

He frowned as he turned and walked back towards the house. Just what had he overheard? Was Celestine plotting with someone to steal Katherine’s treasure? And, if so, who was that person? Ravenshurst—or another?

Alain had heard enough to put him on his guard, though not enough to give him proof of the suspicions he had been harbouring since Celestine joined them.

It was true that she was one of the loveliest women he had ever seen. Her smile had taken his breath away, making him desire her, but almost at once he had begun to wonder what lay behind the mask. Her story did not ring quite true and he had seen a look in her eyes at times that had put him on his guard. And now he was sure that his instincts had been right. She was no friend to Katherine, for all her pretence.

Yet he could not be certain of what he had heard. Those few whispered words might mean anything. It was of a surety that the Lady Celestine must be watched, and closely. And he must be very careful. If he showed too much kindness towards Katherine, Celestine would be on her guard and he believed she had a clever, devious mind. His only chance of discovering what she plotted was to flatter her, make her believe that he was charmed by her—and that meant she must not suspect his true feelings for a moment.

‘Did I not tell you that the lady would cause us trouble?’ Bryne said the next morning when they were visiting their warehouse to inspect a new cargo of silks and spices that would be worth a small fortune once it was transported to England or France. Alain had told him of what he’d overheard the previous night and of his half-formed suspicions. ‘If Hubert of Ravenshurst is involved in this, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.’

‘You think he will pursue her even to England?’

‘I think it likely.’ Bryne frowned. ‘Do you believe in this story of the Holy Grail? Stories of its whereabouts abound, Alain. Legend has it that it was brought to England long ago, and Arthur’s knights searched for it in vain. Yet now it seems it was in the Holy Land all this time. How can anyone be sure where it has been all these years?’

‘That is the problem. To prove it is the precious cup is a task that may take a man his lifetime…’

‘A man would have to be very certain to follow such a cause, Alain.’

‘Katherine hath not named the treasure she carries, but it is the one item that men have searched for ceaselessly—think of it, Bryne. The cup that our Lord drank from on that last night. Think of the satisfaction there would be in giving that to Christendom.’

‘One of the most holy relics imaginable,’ Bryne said and frowned. ‘If Ravenshurst believes she has it— I think him capable of any crime to obtain it. Have you thought what it would be worth? There are those who would pay a king’s ransom to have it in their possession.’

‘Ten times as much as many kings could pay, I dare swear,’ Alain agreed. ‘But Katherine believes it should be given freely to the church and I agree with her. It should not belong to one person, but to the whole of Christendom.’

‘Indeed, I agree,’ Bryne said, looking thoughtful. ‘Yet men go to war for far less. I dare not think what trouble such a relic could cause, for if it were given to one church others would claim it as their right.’

‘I think Katherine wanted to give it to the Pope had he been in Rome.’

‘She will give it to no other but his Holiness?’

‘She says not,’ Alain replied with a frown. ‘She is determined to take it with her, perhaps to ask her uncle’s advice. Which means it will probably go to King Philip of France… He is a good Christian knight—but think you he is a proper guardian for such a treasure?’

‘She hath the right to do as she pleases if her father discovered it.’ Bryne’s gaze narrowed in thought. ‘Do you believe it to be genuine and not one of the relics that anyone may buy on the streets of Palestine and Rome?’

‘I do not know for certain that it is the cup Christ used at the Last Supper. It might be something of less importance—but I may know more of its provenance when I have read Baron Grunwald’s writings.’

‘You have not finished your study of them?’

‘Hardly begun. The lettering is small and not easy to decipher, and indeed some of it is in code. I dare say Katherine’s father wished to protect his discovery.’

‘It is a dangerous burden she carries, Alain. You realise what this means, of course?’

‘It means that I must stay by her side until the treasure is no longer in her possession. To desert her would almost certainly mean her death. Whoever was with Celestine last night was determined to have it, no matter the cost.’

‘Have you told Katherine that?’

‘No, for she would likely deny me the right to protect her. The lady is more spirited than most.’ Alain smiled at his own thoughts. In appearance Katherine seemed little more than a child, but as he came to know her he saw that she was brave and true, and had a fierce pride.

Bryne chuckled. ‘And her guardian a veritable dragon. I think Maria trusts no one, including me. Yet even so she and Katherine are no match for the like of Ravenshurst—and if he knows of the treasure then others soon will, for he indulges too often in his wine and in his cups runs loose at the mouth. It is a pity that this treasure, whatever it may be, was not left where it had lain since that time.’

‘Yet think of the good it might do in the right hands.’ Alain’s eyes lit with fervour. The Holy Grail was a prize beyond price, something that any true Christian must venerate. ‘Think of it, Bryne—the cup that Christ used just before his death.’

‘That is true,’ Bryne agreed with a frown. ‘The pilgrims would travel far to pray at such a shrine—but where does it belong, my friend? Who hath the most right to own it? Methinks it is too valuable for any man to possess. It would be a burden rather than a blessing.’

‘Yes, for some.’ Alain nodded. He could see Bryne’s point of view, though for him it was a find of such wonder that he could only marvel at it. ‘Always supposing that it is the cup men have sought since the crucifixion.’

‘Sometimes rumour is enough. A story of tears from a statue will bring the desperate flocking in their droves to pray—think what this cup would do,’ Bryne replied. He smiled crookedly at his companion, but there was a look of determination in his eyes. ‘Methinks we may rue the day we met with the Lady Katherine—yet, I am of your own mind, Alain. We must stay with her until the treasure has been placed in safer hands.’

‘I had thought you wanted to spend some time in England?’ Alain raised his brows.

‘It was my intention and remains so—but my own concerns may wait until this matter is ended. I would have no harm come to Lady Katherine by my neglect. I respect her too much to have her fall prey to that rogue. Ravenshurst shall not lay hands on her while I breathe, though I would beg you to keep all I have said in confidence. Speak nothing of this to anyone, including Katherine. I believe she finds my company pleasant and perhaps feels some warmth towards me—indeed, I have hope for the future—but it is too soon to speak of more.’

Alain said nothing, merely nodding his head in agreement. Bryne had been disappointed in love as a young man—he must truly care for Katherine if he was now thinking of taking a wife.

‘It is agreed then,’ he said and smiled at his companion. If it was in Bryne’s mind to marry the lady, he would not stand in his way. Yes, he, too, cared for Katherine, but he was not yet certain of his feelings. His need to protect and care for her ran deep, but he did not know if it was what men called love or merely friendship. If she loved Bryne and he her, then Alain must accept it, even if it caused him some pain. ‘Our duty is to the ladies. We shall protect them against Ravenshurst or others of his ilk.’