The Dark Knight (16 page)

They rode single file again. The sting of rejection occupied her thoughts for a time, but gradually the stillness of the forest began to press in on her. She knew she should feel safe with two strong, capable men to guard her, but swords offered little protection against the dangers that lurked in the darkness. Not that she gave complete credence to witches and spirits, but bears, lynx, wolves, badgers, and boars were much more genuine threats to their safety, along with the dangers from two-legged predators who might be hiding in the woods. Every small sound in the forest became a portent of approaching evil; the unnerving howl of a wolf, the rustle of a small animal in the underbrush, a sudden flapping sound in a tree.

’Tis nothing more sinister than a bat or an owl, she
told herself, even as she clutched one hand over her racing heart. And that was likely a hedgehog, she decided, when something stirred the branches of a large bush. A cowardly voice in her head argued that it was something much more sinister. Any number of sly creatures could follow them through the forest, watching, waiting to leap upon their prey without warning.

Sir Percival reined in his horse so abruptly that she nearly leaped from fright when her own mount brushed up against his. The knight gave her no more than a cursory glance as she gathered her wits along with her reins and pulled her horse to a stop. He motioned Oliver to his side.

“What is it, my lord?”

Percival pointed toward a long-dead tree that stood at a fork in the road. Its bark and most of the branches had been stripped away by weather and time, leaving a silvered trunk that gleamed like a skeleton in the moonlight. The two remaining branches resembled pale arms stretching toward the moon that hung directly above the tree; a grim, headless specter reaching for a cold orb of light. Avalene shuddered in fear even as she saw a glint of metal near the “chest” of the ghostly tree. A dagger, she realized, embedded into the heart of the dead wood.

“Stay with her,” Percival told Oliver, as he gathered his reins. When she realized his intent, she placed her hand on his arm and he stilled immediately.

“ ’Tis something evil,” she whispered. “A warning to turn back, or a lure to coax you into a trap.”

Her concern seemed to startle him. His hand came to rest on hers, separated by the leather of their gloves, but his warmth still seeped into her. “ ’Tis nothing more than a dagger stuck into a dead tree, my lady. There is nothing to fear.”

She studied his face and tried to decide what made her
so certain that he was lying. There was nothing in his expression or the soothing tone of his voice to betray him, but she watched as he looked at their hands touching, then at her shoulders, then a spot above her head. It finally dawned on her that he wouldn’t look her in the eye and tell a lie. At any other time, she would have smiled over the revelation. But not now. Now she almost wished for ignorance, for blind faith in his word.

“ ’Tis evil,” she insisted, tightening her grip on his arm.

He reached out and stroked her cheek with one gloved finger, and then his thumb brushed across her lower lip as if he could somehow mark her with his touch. The caress was so tender and unexpected that she drew a startled breath.

“I can hold my own against any evil,” he said softly. “ ’Tis innocence and beauty that hold the power to ruin me.”

His gaze lowered to her mouth, lingering there for a heartbeat, then his hand abruptly fell away and he loosened her hold on his arm. She was dazed, unable to move, unable to make even the smallest sound. What had just happened? He turned to speak over his shoulder even as he urged his horse forward. “Guard her, Oliver.”

So many thoughts buzzed through her head that she could scarce concentrate on any one of them. Had he been talking about her? Did he truly think her beautiful? How could she ruin him? Was it possible he wanted to kiss her?

She watched in silence as he rode forward, certain she should do or say something to keep him away from that forbidding tree. Instead she touched the tips of her fingers to her lower lip, feeling for all the world as if he
had
just kissed her. Why had he touched her that way?

Sanity kicked in … a little reason, in small degrees. Perhaps he touched all women that way. Perhaps he knew his effect on them and used it to silence every woman who tried to argue with him. She should be angry that he dared take such liberties. Something inside her insisted that he had every right to touch her however he wanted, the same part of her that longed for him to touch her again.

The questions were forgotten when he reached out with both hands to remove the dagger and she realized that the knife held something pinned to the tree, which turned out to be a flat scrap of parchment. He stared at the parchment longer than she thought necessary, tilting it toward the moonlight several times to study both sides. She wondered what could possibly be so interesting on so small a page. Finally he slipped the dagger and the parchment into a leather sack that was tied to his saddle. When he rode back to rejoin them, his mouth was set in a grim line.

“ ’Tis an edict from the local sheriff,” he said, “offering a reward for the capture of poachers in the area.”

Another lie, she decided, and this one more obvious than the last. The moonlight was bright, but surely not enough to reveal writing on so small a surface. She looked at Oliver and saw him nod an acceptance, but she again had the impression that some silent message passed between the two men in that brief exchange. What were they hiding?

Sir Percival dismounted and handed his reins to Oliver. He said something beneath his breath that she doubted even Oliver could hear, and then he was gone. She saw him move away from the horses toward the brush, and then suddenly he disappeared into the shadows. She rubbed her eyes and told herself it was just a trick of
moonlight that had made him appear to melt into the night.

She turned toward Oliver. “Where did he go?”

Oliver answered in a low voice. “To make certain we are alone, my lady.”

She looked into the shadows and impenetrable darkness of the forest and decided she was very thankful to have two such brave men to accompany her. There was no way she would venture into those woods alone before daybreak.

Oliver moved his horse closer to hers and long, tense moments passed. Just then, Sir Percival appeared again in the clearing. It was the color of his clothes that made him seemingly appear before her eyes, she decided, marveling again at his talent for blending into the darkness. He was still hard to see in the shadows but his movements were unhurried, so she assumed there was no immediate danger.

“There are no signs that anyone else is in the area,” he told Oliver, as he took his reins and remounted. He brought his horse next to Avalene’s, and then held out his hand. “You will ride with me for the rest of the night. Oliver, take her reins and the lead.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but the only sound that came out was an unladylike “umph,” when his arm slid around her waist. She clung to his arm for dear life, even though she was reluctantly impressed at how easily he removed her from the saddle. Rather than position her behind him on the horse, he lifted her onto his lap. It didn’t take long to regain her wits, if not her dignity.

“Sir Percival! What are you doing?”

“I should think it obvious,” he said, as he ignored her frantic efforts to rearrange her cloak and skirts. With a slight nod, he gave Oliver a silent order to ride ahead of
them, and then he glanced down at her. “Put your head on my shoulder and rest while you can, my lady.”

“I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“The reasons should be obvious.” They were to her. His arms encircled her on every side, and their bodies were pressed together from shoulder to thigh. No man had ever held her in such an intimate embrace, and this man made her realize why maidens were trained to discourage this sort of impropriety. It was entirely too appealing. Rather than admit as much, she tried her best to appear scandalized. “ ’Tis indecent!”

“ ’Tis necessary,” he countered, as he turned his horse toward the road. “We cannot stop to rest until we reach Beversham, and you cannot stay awake that long.”

“I can,” she insisted, without any real conviction.

In truth, fear was all that had kept her awake for much of the night. Now the forbidden feel of his hard, male body was fast affecting her senses. His heat warmed her as no fire ever could, but she still shivered as they rode past the dead tree.

After the initial shock wore off, her heartbeat began to slow down and her breathing evened out. Really, there was nothing to complain about except propriety, and who but them would ever know? She wanted nothing more than to do as he ordered, to curl up in his arms and allow the slow, rocking movement of the horse to lull her to sleep. There was just one question that bothered her. “What was on that parchment?”

“Go to sleep, Avalene.”

She frowned and folded her arms together at her waist. “If I had a suspicious mind, I might think you were trying to distract me. There isn’t a sheriff in England who would post an edict with a costly dagger. A nail or peg, perhaps, but never a dagger. And why in
a place where so few would be able to decipher the message? ’Tis a rare man who can read, and most rely upon their priest to decipher any writing. ’Tis the reason notices are always posted near the village church at Coleway, where the priest—”

“Do you ever have a private thought?” he demanded, clearly exasperated.

“Oh, I have private thoughts aplenty,” she assured him, “but sometimes I find it easier to reason through a problem aloud. By telling what little I know of sheriffs and their warrants, I hoped you would explain the flaw in my reasoning, or be persuaded to tell the truth about that scrap of parchment.”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “First I am a fool for laughing at a silly superstition, and now I am a liar? One can only wonder how low I will sink in your regard when you have known me an entire fortnight.”

“I do not think you a fool,” she said quietly, even though Oliver was too far ahead to overhear their conversation. This was the reason men disliked her. Somehow she always managed to insult them. She should be grateful that Sir Percival was too polite to yell at her. “And I think the only reason you would lie to me is to spare my feelings.”

He narrowed his eyes. “If you truly believe that I would lie to spare your feelings, then why press for a truth that might frighten or hurt you?”

“You need not lie to protect me,” she told him in her firmest voice. “I am in the midst of the wilderness on a night when all God-fearing souls should be close to hearth and home, and yet I would know the dangers I face rather than travel in ignorance. I am a woman full-grown, not a child to be cosseted, Sir Percival.”

“On that score, we agree. You are most definitely a woman.”

The look in his eyes made her suddenly aware of every inch of where their bodies touched. She lowered her gaze, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hold a thought in her head if he continued to look at her that way. “Will you tell me what was on that parchment?”

“ ’Tis a message from … one of my men,” he said. “One who awaits us in Beversham. He knew we would ride this way and wanted to warn me that there are, indeed, bandits about in the forests. So, it seems you were right in that regard. We should remain silent for the remainder of the night so we do not alert them to our presence.”

She considered his words, then shook her head. “You are keeping something from me.”

A stillness came over him, even though they continued to ride at the same pace. “Why are you so certain that I am not telling you the truth?”

“There is something in your tone, in the way you look at me,” she said, as she lifted her shoulders. “I cannot explain it very well. You will laugh if I try.”

“Oh, I will not laugh,” he promised.

It didn’t seem possible, but the moonlight made his eyes even more potent. He looked at her as if he could see every secret in her eyes. She spoke without thinking. “I feel as if we are somehow connected when we speak about almost anything, but I feel that connection break when you lie. ’Tis almost as if …” She shook her head again. “Nay, I cannot explain it. I just know when you are being less than truthful.”

His eyes closed for a few moments, as if he were processing that information. When he opened them again the look he gave her was remote, guarded. “Those are frightening words to any man, my lady, but I am afraid they do not ring true. What I have told you is the truth.”

He was still lying, she was certain of it. Except that
now he looked at her as if he found something unusual in his arms, something he found a bit alarming.

As neither of them looked away, his expression began to change. He looked at her in a way that was bolder and more intimate than any other man had ever dared. The intensity of his gaze both unnerved and excited her and the threads of their conversation began to slip from her fingers. The way he stared at her, the way his gaze lingered so often on her mouth … Was it possible her feelings were not so one-sided after all? That would be bad. No, that would be impossible.

They had been talking about something important, but she could recall none of it. The horse continued to move forward but it could have walked off a cliff and she wouldn’t have known or cared much. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her, their gazes still locked in their silent exchange. In that timeless moment she saw every reflection of her own feelings in his eyes: uncertainty, resistance, and an inexplicable, irresistible pull. The impossible. He wanted her. At long last, he had recognized her attraction to him and it had triggered a response.

A response that could prove dangerous.

The sensible side of her knew it was folly to consider any sort of dalliance with her father’s knight. Staid, sensible Avalene de Forshay was a woman who held her honor sacred. She was immune to the illicit lures of carnal sin. She had never willingly allowed a man to hold her this close. Her pulse never fluttered over the way a man looked at her. She never stared into a man’s eyes and wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. Until Sir Percival. Every thought in her head strayed into dangerous territory whenever she was near him, and now her girlish daydreams were about to stray into reality. It was time to turn away and put an end to this foolishness.