Her Knight Protector

‘Yes, of course,’ Katherine said, her cheeks warm. He thought her unkind and harsh, but he could not know her reasons—nor could she tell him. She bit her lip and looked at Celestine once more. ‘You have no baggage with you?’

‘Only a few items I was able to conceal on my person,’ Celestine said. ‘For I should not have been allowed to leave the Baron’s camp had he known what I meant to do. You must not fear me, Katherine. I am not your enemy, though I know Ravenshurst may have been your father’s. I believe there was some quarrel between them, though I do not know the truth of it.’

Katherine nodded, but made no reply. It was difficult to judge whether she ought to trust Celestine or not. What she said might be true, yet there was something false about her. However, since she was here, and Sir Alain had clearly decided to take her under his protection, there was little she could do other than accept her. At least, she must appear to do so, though she would remain wary.

Sir Alain was leading Celestine’s horse back to camp, leaving her to bring her erstwhile friend. Katherine noticed that a small leather pouch was slung from the horn of the saddle. Obviously Celestine had not left the Baron’s camp empty-handed. She must have planned her escape carefully—but that did not make her guilty of treachery. Besides, how could she have known where to look for Katherine?

‘Where are you going?’ Katherine asked as she turned to look at Celestine. She wondered uneasily if some of her hostility towards the other woman was because of the way Sir Alain had been staring at her. He’d looked as if he were mesmerised, as if he had been struck by love for Celestine—an arrow from the gods of ancient mythology, perhaps?

Surely she was not jealous? Katherine looked into her heart. Celestine was very beautiful. Even Katherine’s father had remarked on it. He had found her charming, but Katherine had not minded their friendship. At one time she had hoped that they might make a match of it, that her father might find happiness with a second wife, but then Celestine had become the Lord Hubert’s companion. Some might call her his mistress, though Katherine’s father had preferred to think otherwise.

‘Celestine would not be so foolish. The Baron is not a man to be trusted, Katherine. Celestine has been left alone in a strange land. She has merely accepted his offer to be her escort on the journey home.’

That had been in Cyprus, before they had sailed for the shores of Italy. It had not surprised Baron Grunwald at first that the English lord had followed them, for they were all bound in the same direction—but then in Italy had come the offer to buy his treasure and his death had swiftly followed his refusal.

‘I hope to find a ship to carry me back to France,’ Celestine told her now in answer to her question. ‘I have dower lands there, Katherine, for my husband settled them on me when we married. Where will you go now that your poor father is gone?’

Tears stood in those wonderful eyes and she looked genuinely upset. Katherine’s suspicion eased a little. Perhaps she had misjudged the other woman. Indeed, perhaps she was a little jealous. It was unkind of her to harbour such thoughts against Celestine.

‘Why did you leave us to join Baron Ravenshurst?’ asked Katherine, thinking it best to have the matter straight between them.

‘I have asked myself that question many times,’ Celestine replied and sighed. She shook her head sorrowfully. ‘I fear I am a foolish woman and his smiles and promises turned my head. A woman in my position must marry, Katherine. I could reside quietly on my own lands for a time, but there would always be men who sought to wed me for what I might bring them. I believed Hubert to be the kind of man with whom I might find content—but it was not so. All men are greedy, but some have a code of honour by which they live. I fear Baron Hubert of Ravenshurst is not one of them. He is ruthless and cruel and I was unhappy in his company.’

‘Do you believe all men greedy?’ Katherine frowned. ‘My father was not—and nor, I think, is Sir Alain.’

‘I spoke as a general rule. You are innocent, Katherine, and have truly known only your father. Therefore you cannot judge. I have lived amongst men and know more of their true natures. Most are greedy, ambitious fools.’

Her tone and the way her mouth had gone hard and sour shocked Katherine. She was not such an innocent that she did not know such men existed; indeed, she had met several of that ilk on her travels with her father. She had also met good honest men, such as Sir Alain and Sir Bryne. She believed both were generous, decent men of honour. Sir Alain’s was the sweeter nature, though she had noticed that his commands were instantly obeyed, which might mean that he could be very different if he chose. However, she did not think him either greedy or foolish, though perhaps he, like many other men, was blinded by Celestine’s beauty. They did not see beyond her charming smile to the devious nature that lay beneath.

‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said slowly. She would keep her thoughts to herself, just as she would reserve judgement on Celestine for the moment.

‘But you are right to think Sir Alain better than most,’ Celestine said with a thoughtful glance at her. ‘I am sure we can trust him to get us safely to the ship. But you did not answer my question, Katherine. Where will you go when we reach France?’

‘To my uncle. He is the Baron now, but he will do his duty by me.’ Her eyes clouded with grief too recent to have become muted. She did not dislike her uncle, but he was a gruff, blunt man with none of her father’s sensibilities. She would find it hard to live under his roof, but she had no choice. She had no other family and no dowry. ‘There is nowhere else for me.’

‘But of course there is,’ Celestine said and smiled at her. ‘If you chose, you could come and live with me as my friend and dearest companion. No, do not refuse me now, sweet Katherine. We have time enough ahead of us and you may tell me when we reach France.’

Katherine smiled, but made no answer. Celestine seemed genuinely to want to help her, but somehow she could not quite believe in her.

‘You begin to make a habit of rescuing damsels,’ Bryne said with a wry smile. He glanced towards the two younger ladies, who were walking together in the morning sunlight. ‘But this one is undoubtedly beautiful.’

‘What do you think of her story?’ Alain asked and smiled for Celestine’s beauty was overwhelming. ‘Would you say she is telling us the truth—or doth the mystery deepen?’

‘It seems a little odd that the ladies know each other,’ Bryne said. ‘But as yet I have not had the opportunity to observe the Lady Celestine.’

‘And Katherine?’ Alain’s brow wrinkled in thought. His first sight of Celestine had taken his breath away and yet somewhere in a tiny corner of his mind instinct was telling him to be watchful. ‘Is she the key to this affair, think you?’

‘I have suspected something from the beginning, as you know,’ Bryne said. ‘There is something she is concealing, some secret she does not confide in us. I would swear it. Yet I do not think there is malice in her. As for the other one…’ he shook his head ‘… I shall reserve judgement. We are but two hours from Rome, and may consider our duty done once there.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Alain replied but looked uncertain. ‘Yet I would not have harm come to her…’

‘Of whom do you speak?’ Bryne asked and then smiled as he watched the direction of his friend’s gaze, believing he knew. So the wind blew in that quarter, did it? Well, the woman was certainly beautiful, though not to his own taste. ‘You think to see them on their way to France? Or is there something more on your mind?’

‘I should feel happier if certain things were made plainer,’ Alain replied. ‘But we shall see what the ladies have to say when we reach Rome itself, Bryne.’

Alain was thoughtful after he left his friend. It could surely not be mere coincidence that Celestine had ridden their way. And if it had been planned…the lady would bear a little careful watching.

It was not Katherine’s first visit to Rome. She and her father had stopped for a few weeks in the beautiful city on their outward journey to the Holy Land, visiting some of the ancient sites of interest. They had walked along the Via Appia and by the banks of the River Tiber, which was the very reason for the city’s existence.

‘It was here that Nero sent the early Christian martyrs to their deaths,’ Katherine’s father had told her as they gazed at the stone arches of the Colosseum. ‘Just think, some of those men that died here may have followed in Christ’s footsteps when he carried his Cross in Jersualem.’

Now she returned alone. Katherine’s heart ached for her loss. Her father had been a man of great learning, highly respected amongst those who knew him, but a dreamer and hardly suited for a long pilgrimage. Even before he was killed he had developed a bad cough, and she knew he had feared for her future, often bewailing the fact that he had no fortune to leave her.

‘I do not know what will become of you, Kate,’ he had told her once when in a reflective mood. ‘I have neglected my duty, been a bad father to you.’

‘You have been the best of fathers,’ she had replied and kissed him fondly. Indeed, she would not have changed her life these past years, but she longed for him now, for his wisdom to guide her. ‘What should I do, Father?’ she asked softly, wishing that he stood beside her. ‘Should I seek an audience with the Holy Father? What am I to do for the best?’

Now they were approaching the waterfront, where the ships from many countries often rode at anchor in the sunshine. There were but three in port that day, and Sir Alain had told the ladies that he would make inquiries as to their suitability, arranging passage on their behalf if possible.

Katherine stood on the quayside, gazing out over the water. The last time she had stood here was with her father. She had been but eleven years, still suffering from the loss of her mother and feeling the responsibility of becoming her father’s companion. She had known that he needed her, for her mother had told her to care for him as he was often too lost in his studies to remember to eat. A heavy responsibility indeed for a child, but one she had accepted willingly out of her love. The prospect of such a long journey had seemed exciting to her then, an adventure to be shared with the person she loved most in the world. And so it had proved despite the hardships, danger and suffering she had witnessed at firsthand.

On that day so many years ago, the port had been busy with many ships loading and unloading their cargoes, but on this day it was quiet with only a few people walking or standing in conversation. Turning her head to look about her, Katherine saw that Celestine had been speaking earnestly to a man. Realising she was observed, she left him and walked towards Katherine. The man seemed to look hard in Katherine’s direction for a moment before turning away.

What had they been talking about? And why had the man, who was a stranger to Katherine, been so interested in her?

‘It seems there are no ships bound for France at the moment,’ Celestine said when she came up to Katherine. ‘One of those you see is bound for Cyprus, another for the shores of Byzantium and the other for England. A French ship may not be here for some weeks to come.’

‘I do not want to linger here so long,’ Katherine said anxiously. ‘Our money will dwindle and may not then be enough for our passage to France.’ In fact, she had wondered if her small purse would see them safely home. Most of their goods had been lost when her father was attacked and killed, supposedly by brigands.

‘Here comes Sir Alain now,’ Celestine said. ‘We may hear what he has to say.’

‘I fear the news is not what you would wish to hear,’ Alain told them as their anxious eyes beseeched him for the news he could not give. ‘A French ship is not expected for some time. There was a terrible storm last month and two French merchant vessels were lost at sea. The English ship you see anchored cannot sail for another week at least. It, too, was caught in the storm, and though it managed to limp to port it has sustained damage that has not yet been repaired.’

‘Then we have no choice but to remain,’ Celestine said and there was a gleam of something that might have been satisfaction in her eyes. ‘Do not fear, Katherine. I have sufficient money for the three of us. I shall take lodgings and—’

‘No need for that,’ Alain assured them at once. ‘Bryne has friends here and we have all been invited to make use of the Villa Maderno, which lies in the hills just above us. Bryne has gone on ahead to make sure that everything is in readiness for our arrival.’

‘But we cannot trouble you…’ Celestine began, faltering as she saw his frown. His manner told her that he would brook no interference with his plans. ‘Surely you will travel on the English ship once it is repaired?’

‘Yes, that is our plan,’ Alain told her. ‘Had a French ship been the only one available, we should have taken that and found an English berth when we reached Marseilles. The voyage to England will be longer and perhaps less comfortable without a sojourn in France to break the tedium, but we shall take passage. I think it might be best for you to accompany us, Katherine. The Lady Celestine also, if she wishes?’ He raised his brows to her and she smiled at him, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks.

‘Thank you. May I have time to consider?’

‘I have taken the liberty of booking passage for all of us,’ Alain told her. ‘If you would prefer to remain here, that is your privilege, but I fear it might be months before you could be sure of finding a ship that can carry you home. You would find it much easier to purchase a passage from England—and the expense of travelling to England will not fall on you as I have contracted with the English captain for our whole party.’

‘You are very kind,’ Katherine said, and then, taking a deep breath, ‘But I had hoped I might gain an audience with the Holy Father while we are in Rome.’

‘An audience with his Holiness!’ Celestine exclaimed. ‘My dearest Katherine, what reason can you possibly have for making such a request? It is certain to be refused. Pope Innocent III is a busy man and hardly likely to give his time to a young girl.’