Eliza Knight - The Rules of Chivalry (10 page)

Chapter
Eight

K
ent entered her tent without warning. Elena stood, half dressed in only her chemise as Beth tied up her stays. The maid’s fingers
stilled,
her laces only halfway done, leaving Elena feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“Leave,” Kent
ordered. His black eyes were menacing. Her ladies faltered for a moment and then left.

Elena pulled her arms to her chest attempting to cover herself
, her fear escalating
. She clamped her jaw tight when her teeth started to chatter. She wouldn’t show him weakness, even if she dreaded the sting of his hand.

“You need not worry about me taking you now, woman.” He came around behind her, his rough fingers trailing over her bare shoulders.

She shuddered with disgust
, his words little consolation
.

“You want me, do you?” He took her shudder for one of desire. His rotten breath wafted over her face and she forced herself to keep from gagging. His hands moved to grip her rear, rubbing her buttocks crudely. “Well perhaps—”

“Nay!”
Her words came out more forcefully than she intended.

“Dare you deny me?” he growled. He gripped her hips and thrust his flaccid member against her backside.

“Nay, my lord.
’
Tis only—
’
tis only I am not clean. My monthly...” She said a silent prayer to the Lord for lying, but it was for her own good. A mauling by her husband was the last thing she needed.

Her words worked like magic. He recoiled in disgust, pushing her away from him.

“There is to be a hanging this afternoon. A thief has pilfered food from my tent.
Likely to be lively entertainment
before the feast begins.
You will join me.”

Elena swallowed her disgust. Her husband knew she hated to watch the death sentences be
ing
carried out, and forced her to attend whenever one occurred.

“May I beg leave of going? My woman’s—”

“Do not flaunt your disgusting bodily offenses to me and do not make excuses for doing your duty. You are a worthless woman. Show your lord respect and show your people thievery will not be tolerated. You will be there, or I shall see the boy is drawn on the rack before we hang him.”

“
Aye
, my lord husband.”
If attending the hanging meant sparing the poor thief further torment then she would.
Dear Lord in Heaven,
forgive
me.

He snorted and came close behind her again. His fingers gripped the strings of her stays and yanked, tying her up much tighter than
she usually
was. A sharp squeak of pain escaped her. Air scarcely filled her lungs. The thick bones of the stays dug into her skin.

“If you’re going to wear the ridiculous contraption, you’ll wear it with pain.” This time when he pressed against her, he was aroused.

Elena bent forward as much her stays allowed and vomited.

*****

“My lady,
pray forgive me for sharing your secret.
Thomas would never do you harm.
He only wishes to help.
”
Raelyn
pleaded on her knees, her head resting in Elena’s lap.
Elena hadn’t spoken to her since their last conversation.

Elena
grimaced,
attempting to remove the sordid image of the youth’s dangling legs from her mind. Her cries for mercy from Kent had gone unheeded.

“How d
o
you know? Why would you divulge my secrets to him
without my permission
?” Elena resisted the urge to stroke her dear friend’s head in forgiveness.

“Thomas is the reason Michael is here.”

“What do you mean?”

Michael had not been at the hanging. But why would he be? It was a grotesque display of violence and power from her husband. Michael would never agree with it. Or at least the Michael she thought she knew… She’d yet had a chance to speak with about his abominable behavior from this morning.

Raelyn
raised her glistening eyes to Elena’s. “Why,
Thomas
sent him word of the tournament
, urged Sir Devereux to join the lists
.
Thomas
entered the
games
himself to make sure Michael won.”

“Why would he do such a thing? It is dangerous for him, even though he will one day be Earl of Warwick.”

“For love, my lady.
There is nothing more powerful.”

“There is revenge, there is hate, and my lord husband lives on both.” Elena wrapped her arms around her belly. Her stays dug in around her hips, pinching her skin. “Does Thomas love you so much he would risk a war? The wrath of his king
for marrying a woman not of the king’s choosing
?”

Elena’s words were a harsh reminder that
Raelyn
wasn’t chosen by the king. While she said them to pain her lady, it was also a harsh reminder to herself that she was without the one she loved.

“Thomas has told me he loves me more than life itself. He wants me at his side, but I have sworn to never leave you, until you are safe. This was his way of ensuring it.”
Raelyn
sat back on her heels and grasped Elena’s hands away from her waist. “King Henry and Thomas are close. He feels he could talk the anger out of Henry when things are said and done. He told me himself just this morning that he trusts Michael, that he knows the man will do right by you.”

Elena shuddered as she pictured herself burning at the stake for adultery, flames licking and curling up her ankles and shins.
Kent would burn her just for looking at Michael.
If she didn’t get away soon and Michael suffered for it, death may be an all welcoming haven.

She stroked
Raelyn’s
hair.
“I
’m sorry. I
hope your Thomas is right.”

*****

The celebration was in full swing by the time Elena and her ladies arrived. Michael was seated at the table enjoying a particularly tasty mulled cider. If he’d thought the first night’s food and drink to be opulent tonight was even more so.

“About time you showed up,
wife.
” Kent sneered in her direction, his words already slurred and they hadn’t quite made it past the first
course
.

Elena dipped into a low curtsy, her waifish figure near to floating in the emerald gown she wore. The high square neck was out of fashion, but still she mesmerized Michael.
So regal, so beautiful.
How she kept her mind solid with all she’d gone through he’d never know. He only wished to see her smile once again. He had a new found respect for the woman she’d grown up to be.

She appeared even thinner than she had when he’d first seen her before the joust. Was she eating at all? He’d make sure she feasted tonight—put some meat on her bones. If she blew away with the wind before they reached Kent Castle, he’d never be able to keep her safe.

She sat down next to him, without so much as a glance his way. She was stiff, unapproachable. What had changed?

“How goes it this evening, my lady?” he asked in conversation, hoping to open her up.

“For me,
’
tis satisfactory, but I’m not so sure I can say the same about your squire.” Her ire was up, lips thinned, brows delicately raised in challenge. Lord, she was a spirited one.

Michael turned to hide the smile that crept over his lips. She was disappointed in him, but he was glad to see she still had some spirit. She still trusted in him.

“I meant to speak with you about that.”

“Oh, did you? I failed to see your attempts.”

Michael chuckled. Her cheeks flamed red, lips pursed.

“My dear lady, I did that for your benefit.”

Emerald eyes widened. Her mouth formed an O. “My benefit? Please excuse my ignorance, but I am confused as to how beating on a poor lad could have helped me in the least?”

“Jon knew of my actions, and played along. I couldn’t stand to see your husband berate you any longer—and he looked as if he might strike you.”

Elena sucked in her breath. Her gaze pierced his very soul.

“You mean to say,
’
twas all an act?”

“Aye.”

Her features softened a fraction. “Thank you, Michael.”

“You need not thank me.”

“But I must. You do not understand to what magnitude your coming has affected me.
I—” H
er voice broke.

She turned away, but not before he saw tears shimmering in her eyes. His heart ached for her. All he wanted to do was embrace her. Instead, he found her hands folded in her lap under the table and squeezed.

“If it is too much, do not feel the need to explain to me. I would do anything for you.” His gaze traveled around the room to make sure no one was the wiser to their conversation.

She nodded. “I have much to tell you.”

The court fool came upon the trestle table, throwing grapes into the air, flipping around once and catching the fruit in his mouth. Delight filled Elena’s face as she watched, and Michael dared not disrupt her happiness. He was glad she felt comfortable opening up to him.

During the remainder of the meal and the play that followed, they spoke little, but beneath the table Michael held her hand, their fingers entwined. Her slim, warm hand appeared so small within his grasp. Every once in a while she’d squeeze, perhaps reassuring herself that he was still
there. He could not conceive of what unexplainable horrors had occurred since
she left Ireland
.

When the play depicting the sword fight ended and a bawdier enactment started, Elena turned to him.

“Come to me tonight, we must talk,” she whispered.

Michael nodded. She stood. Like flowers leaning toward the sun, her ladies stood as well.

“My lord husband,” she dipped her head, not waiting for permission to leave.

Kent didn’t so much as look at her, only muttered something about a no good whore and her
whorelings
.

Michael balled his hands into fists
and had to use all of his will
power not to pummel the man to the ground.

“Sir Devereux, you honor us by serving Kent as the new Captain of the Guard.
Until tomorrow.”
She held out her hand.

Michael grasped her fingers in his and kissed the air above her knuckles. Disappointment flickered in her eyes, but he dare not show any more affection than that.
Too many eyes, too many ears, too many traitorous souls.

*****

Michael glanced up from examining his sword as one of Kent’s men entered his tent.

“Lord Kent would have words with you.”

Michael nodded, having expected this meeting to take place at some point. He’d won the tournament, and as yet, had not met with his new liege.

He tucked his sword into the scabbard at his side and exited the tent beside Kent’s man.

“I’m eager to begin,” he said. “What
’s
your name?”

The knight ignored him, a snort his only answer.

Michael narrowed his eyes. He could not have the men disrespecting him. He supposed pleasantries would not work with Kent’s men—he should have known. He stopped in his tracks, gripped the knight’s arm so he stopped and face him.

“I asked you for your name, knight.” His voice held a chill, but he let go of the other man’s arm.

“Bernard,” he growled.

“I am Michael.” He held out his arm, waiting for the knight to grip his in a show of esteem. Moments passed as the man eyed Michael’s outstretched arm suspiciously. At long last, he gripped it, albeit quickly, and with eyes darting to see who had observed them.

“Sir.”
Bernard nodded,
then
took his arm back as though he’d been bitten. Without another word he turned on his heel and headed in the direction of Kent’s tent.

Michael followed, shaking his head. He was in for a tough time it appeared. But it was worth it.

They entered the tent, the scents of meat and wine strong. Kent sat at a high table, gorging on legs of fowl, crusts of bread and sugared tarts. He slurped wine from a pewter goblet, getting more on his chin and neck then into his mouth.

“Sir Michael,” he bellowed, before belching loudly. “Come stand before me, so that I may see who will lead my guard.”

The man was a pompous, disgusting excuse for a human being—and he would have thought that even if he didn’t know the depths of Kent’s cruel nature.

Michael stepped to the table, and knelt, placing his hand over his heart. “You have my loyalty, my lord. I shall lead your men as you would see fit, and safeguard all that is yours.”