Protected by the Warrior

A tear dropped down onto her lap as she rose. Nay, Brindi was safe and far away from Colchester. Clara had returned the girl to their aged mother, to their home near the seaside and away from the clutches of the guild masters who’d forced her out.

She fisted her hands and the left one stung sharply. She’d acquired a splinter from the door to the dungeon, and now that she wasn’t busy, it throbbed. Forget it. She’d deal with it on the morrow when the light was better. The end of the day was fast approaching.

Clara paced to the window, anxious for some air to clear her mind. She quietly eased the vellum shutter from the window, wanting only a few breaths of fresh air before she blocked out the cool evening again.

She leaned forward. Having abandoned her wimple and veil earlier, the light breeze brushed over her neck and through her thick hair. Glad for it, as her cyrtel clung to her and was in need of laundering, she stretched out as far out as she could manage.

The window had a direct view of the village below, in particular, her small hut at the center. Her gaze automatically fell on it.

In the darkening evening, a shadow passed in front of her home, someone thin and stealthy. A breath or two later, the door, set at the side of the hut, opened. Then, as Clara stared hard, a lamp was lit, spilling light onto the small herb garden for a brief moment before the door shut tight.

She gasped. Someone was in her home.

A sharp rap cut through her and she jumped. After a glance around the solar, and noting all was as it had been a moment before, she heard the knock again. Someone was at the door. Quickly, she set the vellum frame back into place and hurried to crack the door open a tiny bit.

Kenneth stood at the threshold.

“’Tis time for you to return to your hut,” he growled out softly.

She stepped out into the corridor. “And not to the dungeon? Have I earned a reprieve somehow? Oh, mayhap you’ve come to your senses and realized I have done nothing wrong!”

“Anyone who deliberately puts an entire town at risk should be imprisoned, but, nay, Lord Adrien pledged to Lady Ediva he would protect all in Little Dunmow. Apparently, that includes you. I will escort you home.”

Did he think her a fool? She’d have to be addled not to realize that Kenneth would want Rowena’s child given to his father and, as a result, would stay close to discover her location.

Ha! If Kenneth believed that by dogging her footsteps day and night she would, out of frustration, finally tell him where she’d hidden Rowena, he was sadly mistaken. She was the oldest of several children and had dealt with all her siblings’ childish ways. She could easily outlast this one man’s pestering.

But ’twas a moot point. “I am not ready to leave Lady Ediva yet.”

“Is she still in danger?”

“Nay, but—”

“Is the babe safe? Is Margaret there to watch them?”

“Aye, but—”

“Then there’s no reason for you to linger. By not resting, you risk your own health. Lord Adrien will come here soon, and with Margaret’s help they will be fine dealing with Lady Ediva and her babe. Now, get your cloak.”

Irritated that she’d been interrupted and annoyed even more that Kenneth was right, Clara pursed her lips.

“As I suspected, your stubbornness will be your downfall.” He turned. “Stay, then. Lord Adrien will not be happy to see you after he ordered you home to sleep. I expect he’ll suggest the dungeon instead. Or, just as unpleasant, the grand hall. By the way, all the soldiers have been celebrating the birth of Lord Adrien’s son....”

“Fine,” she snapped. She was not unreasonable. And, aye, she needed a good night’s sleep. “Wait here.”

She slipped back into the solar, carefully took her wimple and veil, and fitted them hastily on before throwing her cloak over her shoulders and returning to the corridor.

In the flickering torchlight, she noticed Kenneth’s mouth turn up at the corners ever so slightly. She huffed as she marched past him and his smug insolence.

Downstairs and out in the bailey, they waited for the gatekeeper to open the small door within the larger gate, and Kenneth stepped out first, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Obviously satisfied that all was safe, he held out his hand to help her step through. She took it, finding it warmer and stronger than she expected. But as soon as she was safely on the path that wound down into the village, she tugged her hand back.

The late-spring night had turned colder than she’d expected. Clara looked up at the display of stars, bright because the quarter moon had yet to dominate the darkness. Clear skies always went with chilly nights. She pulled her long, dark blue cloak closer while darting a glance at Kenneth, noting that the cold didn’t seem to bother him. He wore only a lightweight cloak tossed over his broad shoulders and a knee-length tunic over snug leggings. The leather thongs that secured them pressed against his sculpted muscles. Long and lean, he was the very essence of both ease and readiness.

Clara slowed as they approached her hut. Only a short time ago, she’d spied a stealthy figure enter her hut. Now, as they rounded the corner of her hut, she could see light bleeding from around the edges of the old, worn door. Her intruder was still there.

Was it Rowena? Had the young mother slipped into the village with her child? Clara swallowed. Was her babe sick? Was that why Rowena risked a visit?

Clara turned, determined to capture Kenneth’s attention to keep it away from the door. “You have seen me home, Kenneth, and I thank you for it. Good night.”

The man laughed, a noise that bore little resemblance to humor. “Do you expect me to depart? ’Tis not what will happen. Since we now know why you were sent here, don’t you think ’twould be best if you were guarded? Surely you realize that your own life is at risk should Lord Taurin arrive.”

“Then why didn’t Lord Adrien insist I stay in the keep?”

Kenneth took her upper arm and continued to guide her up the short path toward her door. “No doubt he won’t have you that close to his wife.”

She steeled her spine and yanked back her arm. “I would never hurt Lady Ediva!”

He took her arm again, this time at the elbow. “Of course not. You aren’t that foolish.”

She pursed her lips into a thin, tight line, not willing to engage him in an argument if Rowena lingered behind her closed door. She knew Kenneth’s type. Hidden strength came with those wiry muscles, so different from her clan of shorter, thicker Saxons. And she had no strength tonight to do anything save trudge to her door.

Still, her foolish tongue belied her fatigue. “You’ll find it a waste of time to guard me. If you’re hoping I’ll slip away tonight, you’ll be hoping in vain. I’m dead on my feet and I plan to do nothing but sleep.”

“Good. It has been a long day for both of us.”

She stalked up to the door, hoping her long cloak would block the thin light seeping under it. “Since you are so set on guarding me and there’s only one way in and out of my home, I suggest you spend the night out here. I’m not the sort of woman who allows men in her home overnight.”

“And I am not the sort of man to be enticed inside, woman, certainly not by so sly a female as you.”

She shot him a blistering glare. “You have a lot of—”

A short, harsh clunk sounded within the hut. Before Clara could draw her next breath, Kenneth had shoved her behind him.

She heard his sword scrape free of its leather scabbard just as Kenneth’s booted foot connected with the door.

Clara gasped. Kenneth was prepared to kill whoever was inside!

Chapter Three (#ulink_9d908cf2-8675-586a-bbae-8137fdf2330b)

Kenneth charged into the hut, a single thought slicing through his mind. Protect Clara. And he would do so even if it cost him his life—

A downward shot of dun-colored clothing met his glare and he stabbed at it in the dimly lit hut. A whimper, weak and childlike, reached up to him as his sword snagged a scrap of wool and tore it free from a small body. Another soft cry rent the air in front of him.

A child? Immediately, Kenneth pulled back and lowered his sword, accidentally elbowing Clara. Her fingers curled around his lower arm as if to hold him still. The cowering soul in front of them whimpered again.

“Wait!” Clara whispered in his ear as she leaned forward, so close he could feel her sharp gasp brush his neck. “Brindi?”

Kenneth blinked. The sister? He focused on the heap of pale clothes cornered in front of him, scarcely visible in the low lamp flame the intruder had kindled. The bundle moved and he saw how small it was. ’Twas indeed a child! He blew out his breath, trying to will his heart to stop racing at the horror that could have happened.