Читать книгу The Knight's Scarred Maiden - Nicole Locke - Страница 13

Chapter Five

Rhain heard the tethered horses and the jingle of tackle through the morning’s drizzling air. His men’s voices were low and unusually somber. There would be a storm today. He hated riding in the rain and it would be worse if the wind kicked up.

When he rounded the corner he saw his men who were no doubt wondering why they rode today. Before London, he never would have travelled on days like this. In inclement weather, many a wealthy and powerful family was forced to wait for their arrival. He wasn’t soft, but wise. He valued his men, their safety and health, they were in turn valued by their patrons. It was a simple game of appearance.

Now, he couldn’t take such a luxury as waiting out the weather. It was early, but already the village was wakening and many were loitering in the streets, watching them in curiosity. They had garnered enough attention in this tiny village.

He tried not to look over his shoulder at the inn behind him; he tried not to think of the woman he was leaving behind, and as his stomach growled he tried not to think of the best cakes he had ever tasted in his life wasting in the kitchens.

‘You readied my horse?’ he said, as he patted the horse’s neck.

‘You slept in late.’ Nicholas shrugged.

‘You were there; you know why.’

He and Nicholas hadn’t slept but an hour or two. He left Helissent’s home with a purse full of coin. It was considerably lighter after he and Nicholas knocked from door to door. Waking families, telling them what had occurred, paying them to protect Helissent should it come to it.

A troubled night and one where he had little faith in people. They should have already helped her before some stranger paid them to.

‘Yes, but I didn’t sleep late and miss all the excitement,’ Nicholas said.

His thoughts plagued by a certain woman, who smelled of cakes, he couldn’t fall asleep as Nicholas had. ‘Excitement?’

‘He means me,’ a voice behind him said. A female voice.

Rhain spun around. Standing next to his men, wearing most likely all the clothing she had, plus the tattered blanket he’d spread over her, stood Helissent.

‘What is she doing here?’ he said.

Nicholas arched his brow. ‘You gave her your tunic. I know how you like to care for stray dogs. This wasn’t also part of your plan?’

‘You know the plan and adding another isn’t part of it.’ Rhain waved his hand in her direction. ‘Especially not a woman.’ He didn’t care what Helissent heard, but he kept his voice low. His men didn’t need to hear his argument. ‘What did you tell the men?’

Nicholas unclenched his fingers around the bridle. ‘I didn’t tell the men anything. They came to their own conclusions.’

Rhain looked to his men, who were no longer talking, but avidly looking at the proceedings. There was no amusement on his behalf or annoyance that a woman was in their midst. They were simply openly glaring at him. What conclusions had they come to?

Nicholas gave a saluting smirk before he walked the horse to the men and said a few words. Rhain swore he heard laughter, but his focus was on the woman staring levelly at him.

He still couldn’t comprehend the color of her eyes, even in daylight, but he understood the emotion behind them.

If she was stubborn, he would break her. If she was afraid, he’d keep it that way. He had precious little time left. He’d spent too much in the inn eating her food and too much time in her home, kneeling on her bed last night.

Last night... He’d slept in because he hadn’t been able to sleep until exhaustion took him. Until he’d been able to stop his wandering thoughts of a scarred barmaid who’d stared with wide eyes at him in the flickering candlelight. Who’d sat stoically as he tended her. As his body shook with rage at what those men had done. Then he’d felt her back and he’d wanted to gather her to him, weep and rage some more.

His lack of sleep would deter him enough for the day if he didn’t have distractions, which the woman who stood in front of him most definitely was. If for no other reason she extracted emotions from him he had no intention of feeling.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I brought you the cakes.’ She pointed to a sack at her feet. A large sack that matched the one next to it.

‘I was going to leave them in the kitchen,’ he said.

‘I know,’ she said.

He knew she knew. He could see in her eyes, and the tight bracketing around her mouth, she wasn’t happy that he’d left the cakes.

‘I only thought—’

‘I told you to keep the cakes.’

She opened her clutched hand, revealing the coins he gave her. ‘Then I’ll have to give you back the money.’

‘I told you to keep the money.’

‘But I won’t.’

An honest barmaid. A stubborn one, but a battle on the cakes wasn’t one he wanted to win. He shrugged. ‘So I’ll take your cakes. You keep the money. You’ll need it.’

‘It’s not mine either. It’ll return to Rudd’s hiding place as soon as we’re done here.’

A moment of displeasure and frustration. He didn’t want that vermin anywhere near his money. She made the cakes, she deserved the money. Especially since he fully intended to leave her in this village.

But his feeling of guilt wasn’t what alerted him to something else she said. Guilt he could live with.

No, what caused him to look over her shoulder at his men and narrow his eyes, was that she acted as though they were bartering. As far as he was concerned, the transaction was over. He reached down and took one of the sacks at her feet.

‘I want you to take me with you,’ she said.

Rhain could feel his men’s eyes on him. He most definitely could feel Nicholas’s smirk even from this distance. How long had she been here before he arrived? Long enough for his horse to be saddled and prepared. Long enough for her to approach the men and ask to leave with them. And Nicholas, who knew what happened last night, knew he’d spent most of the time tending to her injuries, giving her his tunic for binding. Nicholas, who’d obviously come to the wrong conclusion.

Take her with them? Not on his life. ‘No.’

‘I won’t be any burden; I can hold my own.’

Hold her own? He could barely look at her this morning, though it was the first time he saw her fully in the light.

The heavy shrouding mist made her look more bedraggled than ever before. Bedraggled? She looked like she was in pain. It pained him to look at her. It wasn’t only the bruises on her face or the way she held herself protectively.

It was what was in her eyes. She didn’t expect him to say no to her request and she took his refusal personally.

He couldn’t have anyone on this journey, let alone a lone woman. No matter what she said next he would not take her. His men were openly glaring at him now and some of the Flanders men had stepped closer to her. He didn’t care if they didn’t like his judgement. His men would be better off without him as well, and if he made it to Edward’s camp, he fully intended to leave them there.

‘You aren’t in any condition to travel.’

She winced as if he slapped her across the cheek. ‘I’m stronger than I look.’

He knew she was stronger than she looked; her standing before him was testament to that. Her determination to be part of a band of mercenaries showed her bravery, but he could see the trembles beneath. Despite himself, he admired her standing firm.

If he didn’t have someone after him, would he take her? Given his anger at just the thought of last night, he knew the answer. Unfortunately for them both, he didn’t have the luxury of such questions. Though he had been taught a lesson, Rudd might try to harm her, but he was too much of a coward to kill her. Reynold would.

‘Do you know what we are?’

‘Mercenaries,’ she said evenly.

‘Then you know we murder and thieve for a living. Can you kill and steal?’ He stared pointedly until her eyes turned mutinous. ‘I didn’t think so. You are of no use to us. You will only be a burden.’

* * *

Helissent forced herself to look directly into Rhain’s gaze, clear as anything despite the hood he wore. Forced herself not to turn when his eyes roved all over her features taking in every old and new injury. Out of a lifetime of habit, she turned her head to display her scarred side. Felt his eyes there, but they didn’t stay and he didn’t wince or show pity.

It was probably because he already took his fill of her scars last night.

The moment Rhain left last night, she’d planned her escape. It didn’t matter how much Rhain or his man Nicholas threatened Rudd. They would be gone and Rudd would seek his vengeance. She couldn’t remain.

There was no home for her any more. She had to find a home of her own and the only way to do that was to get out of the village. But a woman travelling alone wouldn’t get very far. She had to travel with this man. This man who told her he wouldn’t take her.

‘I was told you intend to travel north. I merely want passage to York. I can cook. I know you have no one doing that for you now.’

A certain light entered his eyes. A calculating disapproval. She wasn’t sure as he eyed the men behind her. ‘You were told our destination and told we had no one to cook for us.’ Then he raised one sardonic brow and she felt all the mockery of all the ages bearing down on her. ‘These men are not pampered and do not need fine fare.’

She wasn’t prepared for him to say no, let alone a rebuttal, but she wouldn’t give up. ‘I can help with horses, or generally. I hardly eat anything at all.’

He slowly shook his head through her suggestions and his lips turned almost cruel. ‘If there’s a woman in the camp, there would be only one reason she was there.’

At first, she didn’t understand. There was nothing in her history to allow her to understand. It was only how the men behind him suddenly stiffened and shifted. It was merely the cutting cruelty of his voice that reminded her about last night. Last night when he rescued her from those men, who’d almost raped her.

Did he believe she’d burst into womanly tears and run away? Never. He was telling her if she went with them she’d be a camp whore. She didn’t blush because she wasn’t capable. Even so, she wanted to laugh. Broken, brittle, but genuine all the same. Did he think his men would actually want her? Nobody would want her. She didn’t even want herself. She hadn’t saved her sister from the fire as she promised—like a coward she wanted the flames to consume her, too. Now she wore the deep scars of that shame.

And all of that, though true, wasn’t at the heart of the matter. Because last night she was almost raped or worse and he had saved her. She did know one truth. He wasn’t Rudd. ‘Are you telling me I’ll be treated worse than I was last night?’

The brackets around his tight jaw and mouth didn’t soften with remorse or pity. Instead, a muscle jumped in his jaw.

Then he flipped his cape to the side and reached in a pouch around his waist. She heard the unmistakable sound of coins as he opened his hand and offered them to her without looking at the amount.

When she didn’t step forward, he threw them on to the bag at her feet and addressed the youngest one in the group who had walked closer to her. In fact, all the men almost circled her. Their frowns were fierce and she felt a shiver of nervousness.

She didn’t know these men despite approaching them this morning. Despite speaking to the man called Nicholas, who suffered from a sword scar across one eye and was larger than any man had the right to be.

The rest had stayed quiet as she’d talked to Nicholas. Some had eyes as cold and unforgiving as any mercenary’s eyes, while others appeared merely curious. It was Nicholas who was friendly, though he seemed to have some agenda when he said she could wait for Rhain to arrive. So that’s all she did. Wait, while shivering from the mist and trembling from the pain and exhaustion. She waited.

Now these men looked as though they meant to haul her away, so she widened her stance. She waited because there was no other place for her to go. She’d fought those men last night and she would do it again.

Rhain faced them all and pointed to the boy. ‘Take those bags and help her return home.’

When he turned to her, she felt his stare, felt the animosity from him. She had meant to insult him with her comment and succeeded. He’d saved her and she’d lumped him in with her would-be rapists. But he still refused to take her.

After his generous coin for her cakes, after he complimented them and her, after he saved her, she thought he was kind. But in the light of morning, she reflected on the other sides to him. The fact he was a mercenary and he kept his hood up, as if hiding his face, like a wanted man. The fact he knocked those men unconscious with deadly accuracy and today she heard the cold hardness in his voice. Then there were his shadows. Always his shadows.

She didn’t know this man at all. He fully intended to leave her here even knowing Rudd awaited her. She had no other compensation to offer for her passage, nothing to barter with except his sweet tooth.

‘I made the rest of the cakes,’ she said in a rush.

Stillness. Unnatural. As if she’d shocked him. No sharp breath, no blinking of his amber eyes. His face, his body as unmoving as stone now covered with heavy mist that was turning to rain falling harder and soaking them.

It darkened his clothes, his countenance. His implacable eyes swirled with more emotions than she could name. More emotions than he’d shown last night when he stopped those men. When he tended her wounds.

‘You made twenty-five cakes last night,’ he said, enunciating each word until they held a bite.

‘And I made twenty-five more this morning,’ she added.

He leaned forward as if to strangle her and just held back. Even so, she felt his anger, surprise and displeasure as his eyes raked down her now-drenched form.

She knew she was lacking, knew she was disfigured. But she could cook and bake; she was resourceful. When he left last night, she’d gathered her strength as she thought through her plan of leaving the only home she had. When she’d made up her mind, she left for the kitchens.

It made sense for Rhain to take her. He had to know her situation. There was no way she could get his money back and consequently she made the rest of the cakes. Even though the kitchen’s heat had pained her more than ever and her ribs protested her every move. But it was worth it because she wanted to thank him for last night and for the expected ride today.

She didn’t think it would come to this. That she would be bargaining a life for herself over some flour and honey. That she would be using a cake to prove she was worthy of him taking her.

‘We have no horse for you,’ he said.

The village didn’t have any spares. ‘I didn’t expect a horse.’

Her heart flipped and churned until she was sure he would notice. Something had changed, but she tried not to get her hopes up. He wasn’t saying no any more, though nothing he said yet proved otherwise. He merely talked of horses and convenience, but those were obstacles, not refusal. This couldn’t truly be about his sweet tooth, but exactly what it was about, she didn’t know.

His tightly locked countenance told her nothing. Especially since even though his hood was up, he was almost too precisely beautiful to be real. The only indications that he was real were the slight exasperation of his breath and the fleeting emotions in his amber eyes.

‘I’m not a savior,’ he said.

She, of all people, knew no one was and that she didn’t deserve one. ‘I’m not asking you to be.’

He nodded once, scanned his eyes around the men before he said, ‘She rides with me.’