Sweet Bea (19 page)

“If it is Henry.” Beatrice forced herself to breath slow and deep. At last, her brain started to sort through what she knew. She stood. “We do not know if it is him. What if it is not my brother? Henry would not send a man to London before and he does not have enough men to send a mounted party after me. What if the king has heard of what I am trying to do and those are his men?”

“What would the king want with a girl like you?” Tom frowned.

“To stop me from reaching my father.” Beatrice looked back at Garrett. “How long until we reach London?”

“We will be there by sunset.” He stood tall and strong, not telling her what to do, merely waiting to hear what she wanted.

“I want to see this done.” Determination stiffened her spine.

Garrett nodded and bent to clear up their meal.

“You should leave us behind.” Ivy rose, motioning herself and Newt. “We will only slow you down.”

“Not me.” Newt’s eyes widened.

Ivy’s words brought up something she’d not allowed herself to consider before. She had to think of the best course. For all of them. They were her band, disreputable and bedraggled, but they were all here because of her.

Garrett readied the horses. Her heart twisted viciously. Things wouldn’t go well for Garrett if it was her brother behind them. She looked at Garrett as Henry would see him and her insides went cold.

Beatrice hurried over to where he prepared to mount. “You should leave us.” She kept her voice low, speaking quickly before her heart overruled her good sense. “You can take Ivy and Newt with you and point Tom and me toward London.”

“You are right.” A gentle smile tilted the corners of his mouth.

A lump lodged in her throat. Leaving Garrett sat like a bitter lead weight in her stomach.

“I should leave you, it is the most sensible thing to do. And yet,” he ran his fingers lightly across her cheek, “I seem to feel the need to see you through this.”

“Garrett, you do not understand.” Beatrice caught his hand and held it against her cheek. “If my brother discovers you, he will—”

“He will do what any brother would do.” Garrett leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. “And yet, I am still here. Now mount up before I change my mind. Let us see if we can outrun whoever is looking for you.”

* * * *

They kept the horses at a steady pace. The road closer to London was better and they made good time. It wasn’t fast enough, though. A mounted party on destriers would close the distance in no time.

Beatrice peered around Ivy for nearly the hundredth time. The road behind them was empty except for a large bullock cart.

“Do you fear your brother?”

“Nay. It is my youngest brother and he is hardly the most fearsome of them.” She kept her eyes on the road in front of her. The skin of her back crawled with the fear of someone behind her, eyes on her.

“Then why do you not wait for him and let him take the message to your father?”

It was an excellent question. Aye, she was concerned how Henry would react to Garrett. But Garrett could melt into the forest and Henry wouldn’t see him. It was more than that which concerned her. She’d come too far in this adventure for it to end now. It seemed like failure to turn tail and run for home leaving Henry to complete her mission.

The steady motion of the horse helped to settle her.

She was almost certain it wasn’t Henry looking for her. The ride had given her time to think it through. Her brother was a pragmatist. If she’d left for London, he wouldn’t set out himself to stop her. Not if it meant endangering the keep and their mother. He might have asked her uncle to find her, but it didn’t seem like something Godfrey would undertake. Besides, Godfrey had no men. The best of them were in London with her father and brothers.

So, who was it behind them? Not Godfrey. It would be more Godfrey’s way to sneak up on her, undetected and talk at her until she was left with no choice but to turn for home. Tom was right, the king wouldn’t have time to bother himself with a mere slip of a girl. And it was doubtful he would even know. Henry would keep the knowledge contained within the keep. He wouldn’t want the world to know of his sister’s shocking behavior.

It could be Calder. Calder had a strong reason to prevent her from reaching her father. Might he already have arrived at Anglesea, found her gone and determined to stop her? Did Calder have Faye and the boys?

All the unknowns clattered about her brain and increased her anxiety. Before she’d embarked on this journey, she might’ve thought nothing of a knight and his men looking for her. She’d grown years in only a few days. She’d learned things about the world around her, things her family had sought to conceal from her. Only now did she grasp the enormity of what she’d done. Beatrice didn’t think even Tom had truly understood the extent of the danger outside the keep walls.

People were not safe in King John’s England. It was a lawless place, where justice lay in the hands of the strongest. The meek suffered, just like her group of women and children. She’d not understood hunger until she’d seen it written on their faces. She’d not known evil until she’d seen what those men did to Ivy. Nay, her eyes had been opened and she wouldn’t trustingly wait for whoever pursued her to catch up with her.

She urged her horse into the lead.

Garrett sent her a reassuring smile. He would get her there his smile said.

Breeze rounded a bend in the road and Beatrice’s heart leapt into her throat.

Three large men on horseback stood in the middle of their path. On the verge were two more men and on the opposite edge a coach sealed off any escape.

Beatrice drew Breeze to a halt.

“Easy.” Garrett stopped beside her.

Together, they studied the men blocking the road. They were men at arms, but there didn’t appear to be a knight amongst them.

“They are church men.” Garrett shielded his eyes with his hand.

Beatrice sagged with relief. Newt had said a knight led the men looking for her.

“Church men?” Newt popped his head around Garrett and drew it back again. “Jesu.”

Newt was deathly pale and his eyes darted like a cornered rat. “Turn about. We must turn about.”

“Nay.” Garrett gestured. “This is the road to London and we need to get past them.”

Tom drew rein beside them. “What is it?” He narrowed his eyes as he assessed the men.

The men on the road turned to watch.

“Church men.” Garrett tensed. “Going by their colors, I would wager there is a bishop or someone similar in that coach.”

“Why are we stopped then?” Tom threw up his hand. “We have naught to fear from the church.”

Newt whimpered and wriggled around behind Garrett. “Do not let them see me.”

Genuine fear glimmered in his eyes.

A sense of foreboding crawled up Beatrice’s nape. “Newt?”

“Do you know aught of this?” Garrett kept his eyes on the men.

Newt choked. He gave a half nod, stopped and shook his head.

“What did you do?” Tom caught hold of Newt’s collar.

From the road, the men approached. They moved slowly. For now, Newt wouldn’t be visible to them.

“Please, my lady.” Newt stopped trying to shake free of Tom’s grasp. “If they catch me, they will hang me for sure.”

Newt must’ve done something terrible to be hunted by a powerful churchman. If he’d sinned against the church, she would be sinning by aiding him.

“Drawing closer,” Garrett warned her in a soft undertone. “We either give them the boy or let him go, but you have to make the decision and make it now.”

“I knew this wretched creature was trouble.” Tom wound Newt’s tunic around his fist.

“What did you do?” Beatrice glanced at Newt, and then back to the road.

The leader carried a sword at his hip. His hand rested on the pommel. Armor glinted beneath their surcoats.

They didn’t look friendly.

“Nothing. I did nothing.” Newt wriggled some more.

“Newt?” Beatrice fixed him with a hard stare. “If you do not tell me, I will ask them.”

Newt’s eyes darted from Beatrice to Ivy. He licked his lips.

“Beatrice?” Garrett rumbled. “Almost upon us.”

She kept her eyes on Newt.

“I might have helped myself to some things.” He was going red from the grip Tom had on his tunic.

“What sort of things?”

“I do not know what sort of things.” Newt whimpered. “I have not been to church in my life. Things.” His voice rose to a squeak. “Gold and silver just lies there.” His licked his lips. “It was only one cup.”

“You stole from a church?” Stealing from a church? It was unthinkable. Unconscionable.

“I said I might have.” Newt’s clasped his shaking hands over the neck of his tunic. “I swear to you, my lady. You let me go and I promise not to lay a hand on another thing that is not mine.”

Ivy scoffed.

Beatrice was inclined to agree with her.

“Let him go,” Beatrice told Tom.

Tom gaped at her in disbelief. “He sinned against the church.”

Newt writhed under his grasp.

The horses stirred and Beatrice moved her mount to block the view of the men at arms.

“His sin is between him and God.” There was no doubt their party aroused suspicion by standing here. “But he is my friend and he has aided me. Whatever he has done is on his conscience, but I will not repay his friendship with betrayal.”

“You go too far.” Tom’s head jerked back.

“Let the boy go, or I will make you.” Garrett’s face was carved from stone, cold and relentless.

With a curse, Tom opened his hand.

Newt leapt to the ground. He used the horse’s legs to shield himself, moving like a phantom and disappearing into the hedgerow beside the road.

“Now we have added blasphemy to our tally.” Tom set his lips in a grim line.

“I think that can be laid at Newt’s feet.” Ivy poked her head out. “Along with his other charms.”

Tom coughed. The smallest of smiles tilted his mouth.

There was a tiny glimmer of something between Tom and Ivy. She would keep an eye on that, but with men at arms bearing down, Beatrice had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Ho, there.” The leader slapped up his visor. He was of middle years, his face stern and drawn. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth. His cold gaze swept them, keen and assessing.

Beatrice nudged her horse forward. Garrett inched Parsley in front of her. “Let me.” She tugged on Parsley’s bridle until he stopped.

Tom groaned and clapped his hand to his forehead. “She will make a tangle of it for sure.”

Not the most encouraging of reactions. Beatrice’s confidence wavered.

“Nay.” Garrett smiled at her. “She will do beautifully.”

Beatrice could topple mountains when he looked at her with quiet approval gleaming in his eyes.

“Good day,” Beatrice called.

The crest of their bishop lay emblazoned across their surcoats in rich gold thread. Beatrice wasn’t familiar with the crest, but Garrett’s guess was correct. Newt had earned himself a rich and powerful enemy. She sent a quick prayer heavenward for the sin she was about to commit. Hopefully the Lord would make the fine distinction between lying to him and lying to one of his servants.

“Who are you?” The leader rested his hand on the pommel of his sword.

How to get past him without arousing any more suspicion? Faye popped into her mind.

“I am the Lady…Brenda.” Putting a sweet smile on her face she looked past him to the men with him. “And who are you?”

The man blinked. He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again.

“I am going to London.” Beatrice beamed at him. “Are you going to London?”

“Er…nay.” He cast a swift glance over his shoulder at his men.

“Oh.” Beatrice wrinkled up her nose. “Then why do you block our path?”

The man stopped his horse and motioned the men on either side of him. They halted beside him. “We are looking for someone.”

Beatrice tilted her head and gave him a glance of gentle disdain. “I am certain it is not I for whom you search.”

The man flushed. “Nay, my lady, we are looking for a boy, a dreadful miscreant of a lad. A spawn of Satan.”

“Oh, dear.” Beatrice fluttered her hand. “Is he hereabouts?” She peered around her.

“We have reason to believe he was heading for London.”

Beatrice squeaked and clasped her hand to her chest.

“But he is a small lad and we will catch up with him shortly.” The man squared his chest. “You have nothing to fear, Lady Brenda.”

“Oh, good.” Beatrice heaved a sigh. “I should not want to meet with such a desperate character.”

“Are you alone, my lady?” The leader’s glance encompassed the entire party. A small frown creased the skin between his eyes.

Blast.

“Goodness, nay.” She gave a light trill of laughter. “I have with me my lady’s maid. Only she is dreadfully afraid of horses and managed to lose hers on the first day. Now, she must ride with me. Is that not the most dreadful inconvenience?”

The guard’s mouth turned down at the corners, and he clucked his tongue.

His companions stared unabashedly at Ivy.

“Good morrow.” Ivy waggled her fingers.

“And here are my guards.” She pointed first at Garrett, and then Tom.

“Is it not a small party for such turbulent times?”

“Indeed it is.” Beatrice warmed to her role. It was the tiniest bit thrilling. “And so I told my father. But he would not listen. So, I went to my brother and I said to him ‘Brother, how is it you would allow your only sister to travel with such a paltry escort?’ and do you know what he said?”

The man shook his head and looked as if he were regretting the question.

“He said it did not signify.” She paused, her hand splayed across her chest.

The churchman stared back at her.

“He said it did not signify.” Beatrice tossed her head. Perhaps more than a tiny bit thrilling.

“My lady, he did not mean you do not signify.” Garrett inclined his head toward the guard and raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“I believe that is exactly what he meant.” Beatrice tossed her head again. Actually, she was enjoying herself. “He does not value me as a brother should.” She widened her eyes. “Do you have a sister?”