Boadicea's Legacy (19 page)

Lady Steffen looked down her noble nose, then reached out to pinch Ela's cheek. “Have you a name?”

Ela stiffened at the lady's touch. “Aye. E—, Kathryn,
my lady. Kathryn Edyvean.” Good girl, Os thought.

“Well, come on then. I do hope you don't chatter. If you can't have a decent conversation, then I prefer silence.”

Os watched as Ela chewed her lower lip, then nodded.

Lady Steffen sent him an amused glance. “She'll do well in my employ,” she said. “A woman who knows when to hold her tongue is worth her weight in gold.”

Good luck, Ela
.

Had that been a promise of retribution in her eyes?

After helping first Lady Steffen, and then Ela, into the carriage, Os found Bartholomew. Albric and Warin were already mounted, and St. Germaine held the reins.

“Should take no more than two days to reach the southernmost section of Norwich. We'll reach the castle on day three. And then what will you do?”

Os glanced back at the closed carriage, then turned to Albric. “Since the earl was gone when I gathered you all for a show of force against the Montehues, I imagine I will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Aye. He ordered ye to get a spear, and ye're bringing him a woman. Not what he asked for, eh?”

“He wants Boadicea's spear. Who better to solve the mystery than Boadicea's kin?”

“You just hope that you'll get your land.” Albric scratched his head. “Goats. I still think ye're crazy.”

“Think what you like,” Os said. “Not one person mentioned a spear in relation to Boadicea. Well, other than the
stories that she went to war against the Romans driving a chariot, wearing a golden torc, and carrying a spear. Nothing specific to follow, you see?”

“Oh, I understand. But will the earl?”

Os shrugged. “I wish I knew what he wanted with the damned thing. He never did say.”

“I imagine that we'll find out soon enough, once you see his reaction to the girl instead of the spear.”

Bowing his head, Os prayed for a miracle. St. Cuthbert was going to be a busy saint in the upcoming days.

Ela sat across from Lady Steffen, her hands folded in her lap and her basket at her feet. She kept her mouth shut and her head bowed in what she imagined was a respectful, maidish pose.

Trying to act like Bertha would do no good since the maid had her own mind and didn't even try to keep her opinions to herself.

“Are you comfortable?”

Ela lifted her head and gave a brief nod of assent. The lady tilted her head and smiled. Expectantly. Cheeks burning, Ela added, “Aye, my lady. Very comfortable.”

“Good.”

Lady Steffen's aura was red and pink, with an undertone of green. Healthy, vibrant, and earthy, with a hint of something secret. Ela quickly decided that she was intelligent as well as beautiful, and it would be a bad thing to
make this woman an enemy.

“Have you ever been away from home before?”

For a woman who said she didn't like chatter, she was full of questions. Ela nodded. So did Lady Steffen.

“Er … but not far.” Ela thought of where Bertha had ever gone. “To the fair, in the next village.”

“Ah.” Lady Steffen laughed. “Do you have a sweetheart?”

Ela's skin hurt from the instant rush of heat. She'd never asked Bertha any of these personal questions—but then again, Bertha volunteered the information.

“No, my lady.”

“You're pretty enough. You'll be married within the year, I've no doubt of it.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Ela lowered her head, hoping that Lady Steffen would stop talking. The woman wasn't the awful, gold-seeking female that she'd been worried about, but still … for every tale she told, she'd have to remember the lie. Maybe if she asked the questions?

“How are you faring, my lady, after the carriage accident?” Ela watched Lady Steffen's aura spike with a dark purple shade. A sign of excitement. Or danger.

“I twisted my ankle, but it seems better today. The driver was so careless—I'm glad to have found a replacement.” She smiled. “Three of them, actually.”

Ela couldn't detect any injury on the woman. “How long have you been friends with … oh.” Not an appropriate question from a maid to her lady.

Lady Steffen laughed. “The Countess Ida was a dear
companion to me when I spent a few years at court. Ages ago. I was married then, but she hadn't yet said her vows.”

Taking in Lady Steffen's smooth, white face, Ela couldn't guess the woman's age. Her confidence was high, which leant an air of maturity her skin didn't give away. “You are quite beautiful, my lady.”

“Well said.” Lady Steffen lightly clapped her hands.

“Thank you,” Ela allowed herself to smile in return.

If all noblewomen were like Lady Steffen, then the castle might not be so lonely a place after all. Ela had always worried that she would stand out like a country cousin. She looked at her pinched feet and laughed to herself. It hadn't occurred to her that she'd be in service.

“I assumed that you were going to Norwich to find a husband, but I may be wrong. Am I?”

Astute. Aye, the lady was intelligent. Ela answered honestly. “I don't believe that love is for me, my lady.”

“Oooh. Intriguing. Did you have your heart broken, then?”

Ela shook her head. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Men are scoundrels. ‘Tis true that they think nothing of our women's soft hearts before they tread over the top of us.” Her mouth tightened, and the white makeup showed a crease.

Ela caught a glimpse of how hard Lady Steffen fought age. “Are you married still, my lady?”

“Pass me that wine. If we are to talk about husbands, I need a drink.”

“Here you are, my lady.” Ela removed the cork. Mayhap if she got Lady Steffen drunk, she'd sleep the entire day away.

Two wineskins and four husbands later, Lady Steffen was lightly snoring and Ela had an earful of gossip that was in no way appropriate—but wonderfully entertaining.

They stopped for the night at a town large enough for two inns. It was easy for Ela to help Lady Steffen—considering how hard the woman's life had been. It was amazing that she had the capacity to love at all, and yet her aura showed her to be a passionate lady.

Ela carried the sewing box and two bags and followed Lady Steffen up the stairs into a small, clean room with a single bed and a cot by the door. Dropping her sewing box on the cot—knowing that she had no chance at the bed—she then set Lady Steffen's bags by the nightstand.

“Would you like me to bring you a tray, my lady? Or should I help you dress for a shared meal in the common room downstairs?”

Lady Steffen sank to the bed. “I've a headache. Too much wine—my own fault, but those men always made me drink more than I should.”

“I can help you, my lady. I've a light touch.”

Lady Steffen opened one eye and leaned on her elbows. “If you can cure a headache, Kathryn, your services as a lady's maid will be assured.”

Ela smiled. She hadn't expected to be good. She sat behind her on the bed. “Lie back, your head in my lap.” Ela put her hands on Lady Steffen's temples and envisioned healing pinks and light blue swirls of energy.

“‘Tis warm. Pleasant.” She closed her eyes.

“Just a few moments more. You can rest and then join us downstairs, if you feel up to it.”

“Hmm.”

As soon as Lady Steffen's breaths were even and her aura back to normal, Ela eased off the bed and out of the room. She headed downstairs in search of Os.

She found him in the stables, feeding Bartholomew. He looked so … alone, as if he was thinking heavy thoughts—dark thoughts instead of dreams of goat farms and families.

“Hello.”

He jerked at the sound of her voice, dropping the bag of feed. He bent to pick it up without a glance in her direction. “Escaping your duties already?”

“Lady Steffen is fast asleep, thank you, sir.”

“You wore her out? I thought I heard a lot of chatter going on inside the carriage.”

“That would have been Lady Steffen. She's led quite an interesting life. Mayhap I'll tell you someday.”

“I am not interested in gossip.” He hung the empty bag up on a peg and shut the stall door behind him.

When he finally turned to face Ela, she got to see the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Since she couldn't read his aura, she had to use that physical clue—with his tight shoulders and clenched jaw—to see that he was worried. As usual.

“Now isn't the time to decide I wasn't worth kidnapping.”

He gave her a reluctant smile before turning away and walking toward a large bale of hay. He sat down and patted the spot next to him. “I haven't been honest with you.”

Her heart skipped. “Oh?” She stayed where she was, until he explained further.

“I have to tell you the truth before we get to the castle. The earl ordered me to find Boadicea's spear. I had no right to take you from your home against your will. You—intrigued me. I know that is no excuse. But the chances are high that Roger Bigod will send you home as soon as you arrive.”

He suffered guilt. She joined him on the bale of hay. “Before you bury yourself unconfessed, I would remind you that I was being carried away by Thomas de Havel's men. You saved me, remember?”

He nudged her and shook his head. “You escaped on your own. When your father tossed me out on my arse, I shouldn't have gathered the earl's men to come back and take you. I told myself I did this for the earl and for the land he would grant me—but I didn't do what he asked, and bringing you, the blood descendent of Boadicea, is not the same as bringing him the Iceni queen's fabled spear.”

Os sounded so upset with himself that Ela put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him close.

“The truth is, I wanted you. I was blinded by—desire.” He scraped his hair off his forehead. “Ever since I met you, that night in the glen when you—well—this is ridiculous, but I feel as if I know you.”

Her toes curled with anticipation. This confession could lead to a kiss … certainly something to fan the spark that flamed within her.

“I'm not worthy of your trust or the earl's.”

He stood, rejecting her embrace.

“What are you saying?” Ela narrowed her eyes, the spark spluttering.

“When we get to Norwich, I will hand you over to the earl. Albric and Warin will see to it that you return home safely.”

Her belly turned cold. “Where will you be?”

“I'm a warrior. A knight. Having my own land was a dream, nothing more. I will make a pilgrimage back to the Holy Land and offer my sword arm for hire. It is what I do.” His voice was hard, and his stance determined.

If he left, she would never see him again. She felt it in her bones. “You promised my father you would see me home safe. I don't release you from that pledge.” He couldn't leave—not if he was the one man she could love. She wasn't getting any younger, and neither was he.

His face paled. “Ela … I have to—”

Ela stood, and pointed her finger at his chest. “You are a quitter.”

“Never!” His head lifted, and his blue gray eyes turned as dark as the clouds before a storm.

“Aye,” she said, her body tense. “You let guilt sway you from getting what you want. What good does that do, pray tell?”

He clenched his fists at his side.

Ela took a step forward. He would never hurt her, she knew it. But he had to see himself as she saw him—an honorable knight worthy of any prize. “Let me tell you what is going to happen when we get to Norwich. The earl will be in residence, we know that, because Lady Steffen is on
her way to visit the countess. Aye, and the earl will see you, and he'll have questions. You'll tell him that it was God smiling on you, the day you found me—a living, breathing descendent of Boadicea. You'll not apologize for being who you are, do you understand?”

Her breath came fast, and she was mere inches away from him. His broad shoulders were straight and his back stiff, as if he were cautious—of her. She reveled in the power. What would he do if she kissed him now?

So fast she never saw it coming, he pulled her forward until her mouth was joined with his. He ravaged her with a kiss so hot it melted the last of her anger. Ela slid her arms around his waist, feeling the play of muscles in his lower back as she slipped her hands up to clasp him as close as she could.

He buried his hands in the tangles of her long hair, then he dropped light kisses on her eyes and nose before returning to the warmth of her eager lips.

He pulled back. “This,” he said with his forehead pressed to hers, “is why I must leave.”

“I don't understand.” Her loins ached, and her heart beat as if she'd run an hour or more.

“You. I want you so much that I am willing to go to hell.”