Knight of Deceit (Knights of Passion Series 2) (3 page)

She laughed. “But you are so good at learning the secrets of the men you take to your bed,” she retorted with careless cruelty. “No, I cannot grant you that wish, Maven. Think of another.”

But Maven did not answer and Margaret had lost interest. She
was already planning ahead, considering her options. England and a noble husband or elope with Sir Walter and stay in Scotland. At least, thought Maven bitterly, her half sister
had
a choice.

*

It was late when he came. Across the roof and through the window, silent and clothed in black, standing in her small chamber with rain like diamonds in his hair.

The cloak she
’d wrapped around herself was all covering, but she felt as if she were naked before him. Her loose hair lay about her shoulders but of course she was wearing the magician’s ring so he saw Margaret and not Maven. Just as she saw Sir Walter and not Barlow.

However
she knew the truth now.

He reached for her and suddenly she was in his arms.
“Barlow?” she whispered against his lips.

He smiled.
When he held up his hand, she saw the same ring on his finger as was on hers. “You knew before I showed you, didn’t you?” he said.

“I saw
Sir Walter but I felt you. Your hair, your skin, your kisses. Somehow I sensed something was amiss.”

“It was the same for me, Maven. I saw Princess Margaret but when I touched you I knew it was you. But I
was already aware that your mistress would never take the risk of meeting with Sir Walter, just as he would never meet with her. They are well suited, those two. They use others in their plots and do not care who might be hurt, as long as it is not them.”

“So this game they were playing, all the time they knew?” Maven cried, ang
ry and hurt. “They were like puppeteers pulling our strings?”

“But the game has changed,” he reminded her. “We are no longer their puppets.”

Maven wasn’t so sure.

“Will we?” He
’d clasped the gold ring on his finger and so did she, and together they removed them at the same time.

Instantly she saw him. Barlow. The man she lo
ved and longed for. And she could see the same thoughts in his eyes just before he bent his head to kiss her.

This time it was Barlow she clung to and Barlow who removed her cloak and Barlow’s eyes that burned as he looked upon her nakedness. He lifted his hands to cup her breasts, running the pad of his thumb over the jutting nipple of one while his mouth covered the other. Maven groaned and stumbled back to the bed.

They fell upon it in a tangle of limbs, but he was soon busy stripping off his clothing. Maven ran her hands over his shoulders, bending to kiss his chest, her tongue trailing down to his belly and lower, finding his protruding cock. He held her head, murmuring his pleasure, as she licked and then covered him with her mouth. Barlow’s hips pushed forward and as she sucked upon him he cried out suddenly, spilling into her mouth.

“Maven,” he said
raggedly, and she looked up at him. He lifted her, so gently she felt humbled, and held her in his arms. “You are all I want in this world. I will not let you go.”

Maven tucked her head
within the curve of his neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. “Has your master set you this task before, Barlow? Has he ordered you to bed women and discover their secrets?”

“Yes,” he sighed.
“Many times. And you too?”

“Yes, me too.”
Maven snuggled closer. “When you spoke of escape in the woods today . . . Was that you talking, or Sir Walter?”

His
arms tightened around her. “It was me, Maven.”

She smiled
against his skin. “Thank you. I do not want to go to England. I want to be with you, always. But how can we? You’re only a squire and I’m but a maid.”

“
You’re right. We are nothing to these important people with their schemes and plots. But that will work in our favour, Maven. Because we are nothing to them they will not bother with us, not after the first flurry when they realise we are gone. We will find somewhere to hide and wait until they forget, and then we will live our lives.”

He was right, Maven thought. Margaret would soon forget
her, and Sir Walter too. They were ambitious, and would both move on to their next plot and find new counters to use in their games.

Barlow held her away so that he could look into her eyes.
“You know I am Sir Walter’s half-brother? My father is fond of me. He will be angry at first, for Walter’s sake, but he will eventually forgive me. We will need to hide for a little while, and I know a place in the far north. The land is wild, Maven. Are you brave enough to go there with me?”

She
smiled and reached to stroke his cheek. “If you and I can be together, Barlow, then I can be brave.”

He turned his head to kiss her fingers. She could feel his cock hard again, nudging her thigh, and she lay down, drawing him on top of her. When he was inside her, moving with her, she
sighed her contentment. Whatever the risks, whatever the outcome, she would go with him. Better to die with Barlow than live without him.

*

The plan had been for Maven to slip away in the morning, before the train made its way across the border and into England, but Margaret was keeping her close. Frustratingly she had to stay.

“
What did Sir Walter say?” Margaret wanted to know. Something in the princess’s expression caught Maven’s attention. Had she changed her mind? Yesterday she had been all for an English husband and now she was wavering.

“He wants to take you north, my lady.”

Margaret chewed her lip. “Send for him, Maven. I wish to speak to him once more before we leave.”

Anxiously Maven glanced over at the guards by the door.
Sir Leonard, the king’s man, was frowning at Margaret. “My lady, we are setting off for the border in a moment. We have no time for—”

“
Send for him!”

Maven went to the door, briefly explaining that the princess wished private conversation with one of the Scottish knights.
A last minute message to be taken back to her family. Sir Leonard looked as if he didn’t think such matters important—he had a schedule to keep—but everyone knew the Princess Margaret was strong-willed and would have her way. With a huff of breath he nodded and sent a servant off to fetch Sir Walter.

Maven stood by the window, her body tensed and anxious
, wondering what was about to happen now. Would Sir Walter himself come to Margaret’s summons, or would he send Barlow in disguise? And what would this mean to Maven and Barlow and their plans to escape?

Out in the street she saw Sir Walter striding quickly toward the house, but he did not look up at her. He seemed in a hurry and full of his own thoughts.

“He is here,” she said to Margaret.

The princess settled herself, straightening her back, assuming her regal look
, although Maven could see the girl was full of disquiet about her future. She was only sixteen after all, and despite her manner she was still a young girl. “Allow Sir Walter in and then leave us alone,” she ordered the men at the door. And, when they appeared dubious, “Do as I say!”

The next moment Sir Walter was striding across the room toward the princess, his face full of triumph as he knelt before her and took her hands in his. His voice was too low for Maven to hear, but the intensity of their conversation made her think
she was going to throw in her lot with the Scottish knight.

Maven’s gaze went to his fingers but with Margaret’s entwined
in them it was difficult to see if he was wearing the golden ring. If this was Barlow then he was acting under orders because he had not glanced at her once.

“Maven
!” The princess was frowning and had clearly been repeatedly calling her. “Go to the stables and see that my mare is saddled. Do not allow yourself to be stopped by anyone. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my lady.”

She passed close by Sir Walter but he had eyes only for Margaret, and then Maven was outside, hurrying toward the stables.

What should she do?
She was angry now. She could see her blissful future vanishing beneath the catastrophe of Margaret escaping with Sir Walter. If the two of them managed their elopement then Maven would no doubt be made to bear some of the blame and be punished accordingly by both kings. Margaret would have destroyed her one chance of happiness.

The stables were busy, with horses being readied for the journey, and the grooms had no time for her.
Raising her voice threateningly she finally managed to get her orders obeyed, and the princess’s dappled grey mare was saddled.

Maven
led the animal out into the yard. The mare had always been a favourite with her, more so than with her mistress who cared little for animals and pets. She soothed her with soft words and pats, and the mare went docilely, despite the jostling crowd. What was she to do now? She felt a tug on her arm but with so much going on she ignored it, until she felt it again.

“My love.”
Barlow!
She turned and flung herself into his arms and he held her safe, cocooned within the swarming movement all about them. “Maven, we don’t have much time,” he murmured in her ear. “Sir Walter and the princess are planning to run. They will be followed, brought back, and all hell will break loose.”

Maven met his eyes, her own wild. “What will we do? If they take her then I will be punished.
I know her. She will probably say it was my fault.”

“
Then we must go now.”

“Maven!”
That imperious voice made her jump. Too late, the princess was here.

“My lady, you must think carefully,” she spoke in a rush, her voice trembling beneath her mistress’s
imperious stare. “Think what you will lose. Think what Scotland will lose.”

Sir Walter was reaching to help her onto her
mare. “Princess Margaret will ride today,” he said to Sir Leonard, who had followed them out and was asking questions in an angry tone. “The litter makes her feel queasy.”

But
Maven’s words spilled out of her, desperation giving them a fluency she did not know she had. “In England you will be a royal hostage, a princess of great value. If you run then you will be nothing but a traitor to be caught and punished. Your father may forgive you but he will never give you all you deserve. He will send you to an estate far away, where he cannot see you, where no one can admire your beauty, my lady, as it should be admired.”

It was
working! Margaret was beginning to think again, to push away the panic that had taken hold of her, and to see ahead to the future she really wanted.

“Yes,” she said. She glanced at Sir Walter as if she hardly knew him. “I must go south. For the sake of my country,” she added with a martyr-like air.
“For my father’s honour.”

Maven felt Barlow’s hand slip into hers and squeeze, but she did not dare to look at him.

“Will you still ride, princess?” Sir Leonard was edging closer, pushing Sir Walter out of the way. Walter, his face like a thunder cloud, was glaring about him.

“No, I will go in the litter with my sister. Maven, come with me.”

Maven swallowed. “Yes, my lady. I will just see to your mare. You do not want to be without her and I do not trust the grooms.”

Margaret wavered
.

“You always look so well upon her,” Maven added silkily.

Margaret nodded, pleased by the compliment, but her glance upon the mare was indifferent. “Come to me immediately after you are done, Maven.”

Maven curtseyed.

“Barlow!” called Sir Walter. “We are leaving.”

Barlow gave a bow, but his hand remained in Maven’s, tightly entwined. A moment later they were alone, or as alone as they could be in the packed mass of people and horses in the yard. The
advance guard of the train began to move, slowly, out onto the road and south to the border.

“Take the horse,” Barlow whispered in her ear. “I will follow. Go north. I will catch you up. Go now, Maven.”

Her eyes were wide. She had nothing with her, none of her few belongings, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was being with Barlow. A moment later he had tossed her into the mare’s saddle and she was riding out with the others. No one seemed to mind that she turned north—perhaps they believed she was on some errand for her mistress, or perhaps she was of such little importance they simply didn’t care.

She w
ould be long gone by the time Princess Margaret realised she was not by her side and started shouting for her. And when it was discovered she was actually missing it would be far too late. Sir Leonard would not be interested in a mere serving maid—he was already tiring of the princess’s demands. All he wanted to do was get her to the border and out of his hands.

Maven was free.

*

Maven had slowed. She glanced behind her but the road was empty. She was alone, and cold. The weather was drizzling and the sky was an unfriendly grey. A raven rose up above her and she watched it fly, wondering
if that was a sign she had made a dreadful mistake. Perhaps Barlow had changed his mind, perhaps Sir Walter had prevented him from following, perhaps she should turn around and go back and face Margaret’s wrath.