The Knight's Scarred Maiden. Nicole Locke

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      When he rounded the corner he saw his men who were no doubt wondering why they rode today. Before London, he never would have travelled on days like this. In inclement weather, many a wealthy and powerful family was forced to wait for their arrival. He wasn’t soft, but wise. He valued his men, their safety and health, they were in turn valued by their patrons. It was a simple game of appearance.

      Now, he couldn’t take such a luxury as waiting out the weather. It was early, but already the village was wakening and many were loitering in the streets, watching them in curiosity. They had garnered enough attention in this tiny village.

      He tried not to look over his shoulder at the inn behind him; he tried not to think of the woman he was leaving behind, and as his stomach growled he tried not to think of the best cakes he had ever tasted in his life wasting in the kitchens.

      ‘You readied my horse?’ he said, as he patted the horse’s neck.

      ‘You slept in late.’ Nicholas shrugged.

      ‘You were there; you know why.’

      He and Nicholas hadn’t slept but an hour or two. He left Helissent’s home with a purse full of coin. It was considerably lighter after he and Nicholas knocked from door to door. Waking families, telling them what had occurred, paying them to protect Helissent should it come to it.

      A troubled night and one where he had little faith in people. They should have already helped her before some stranger paid them to.

      ‘Yes, but I didn’t sleep late and miss all the excitement,’ Nicholas said.

      His thoughts plagued by a certain woman, who smelled of cakes, he couldn’t fall asleep as Nicholas had. ‘Excitement?’

      ‘He means me,’ a voice behind him said. A female voice.

      Rhain spun around. Standing next to his men, wearing most likely all the clothing she had, plus the tattered blanket he’d spread over her, stood Helissent.

      ‘What is she doing here?’ he said.

      Nicholas arched his brow. ‘You gave her your tunic. I know how you like to care for stray dogs. This wasn’t also part of your plan?’

      ‘You know the plan and adding another isn’t part of it.’ Rhain waved his hand in her direction. ‘Especially not a woman.’ He didn’t care what Helissent heard, but he kept his voice low. His men didn’t need to hear his argument. ‘What did you tell the men?’

      Nicholas unclenched his fingers around the bridle. ‘I didn’t tell the men anything. They came to their own conclusions.’

      Rhain looked to his men, who were no longer talking, but avidly looking at the proceedings. There was no amusement on his behalf or annoyance that a woman was in their midst. They were simply openly glaring at him. What conclusions had they come to?

      Nicholas gave a saluting smirk before he walked the horse to the men and said a few words. Rhain swore he heard laughter, but his focus was on the woman staring levelly at him.

      He still couldn’t comprehend the color of her eyes, even in daylight, but he understood the emotion behind them.

      If she was stubborn, he would break her. If she was afraid, he’d keep it that way. He had precious little time left. He’d spent too much in the inn eating her food and too much time in her home, kneeling on her bed last night.

      Last night... He’d slept in because he hadn’t been able to sleep until exhaustion took him. Until he’d been able to stop his wandering thoughts of a scarred barmaid who’d stared with wide eyes at him in the flickering candlelight. Who’d sat stoically as he tended her. As his body shook with rage at what those men had done. Then he’d felt her back and he’d wanted to gather her to him, weep and rage some more.

      His lack of sleep would deter him enough for the day if he didn’t have distractions, which the woman who stood in front of him most definitely was. If for no other reason she extracted emotions from him he had no intention of feeling.

      ‘What are you doing here?’

      ‘I brought you the cakes.’ She pointed to a sack at her feet. A large sack that matched the one next to it.

      ‘I was going to leave them in the kitchen,’ he said.

      ‘I know,’ she said.

      He knew she knew. He could see in her eyes, and the tight bracketing around her mouth, she wasn’t happy that he’d left the cakes.

      ‘I only thought—’

      ‘I told you to keep the cakes.’

      She opened her clutched hand, revealing the coins he gave her. ‘Then I’ll have to give you back the money.’

      ‘I told you to keep the money.’

      ‘But I won’t.’

      An honest barmaid. A stubborn one, but a battle on the cakes wasn’t one he wanted to win. He shrugged. ‘So I’ll take your cakes. You keep the money. You’ll need it.’

      ‘It’s not mine either. It’ll return to Rudd’s hiding place as soon as we’re done here.’

      A moment of displeasure and frustration. He didn’t want that vermin anywhere near his money. She made the cakes, she deserved the money. Especially since he fully intended to leave her in this village.

      But his feeling of guilt wasn’t what alerted him to something else she said. Guilt he could live with.

      No, what caused him to look over her shoulder at his men and narrow his eyes, was that she acted as though they were bartering. As far as he was concerned, the transaction was over. He reached down and took one of the sacks at her feet.

      ‘I want you to take me with you,’ she said.

      Rhain could feel his men’s eyes on him. He most definitely could feel Nicholas’s smirk even from this distance. How long had she been here before he arrived? Long enough for his horse to be saddled and prepared. Long enough for her to approach the men and ask to leave with them. And Nicholas, who knew what happened last night, knew he’d spent most of the time tending to her injuries, giving her his tunic for binding. Nicholas, who’d obviously come to the wrong conclusion.

      Take her with them? Not on his life. ‘No.’

      ‘I won’t be any burden; I can hold my own.’

      Hold her own? He could barely look at her this morning, though it was the first time he saw her fully in the light.

      The heavy shrouding mist made her look more bedraggled than ever before. Bedraggled? She looked like she was in pain. It pained him to look at her. It wasn’t only the bruises on her face or the way she held herself protectively.

      It was what was in her eyes. She didn’t expect him to say no to her request and she took his refusal personally.

      He couldn’t have anyone on this journey, let alone a lone woman. No matter what she said next he would not take her. His men were openly glaring at him now and some of the Flanders men had stepped closer to her. He didn’t care if they didn’t like his judgement. His men would be better off without him as well, and if he made it to Edward’s camp, he fully intended to leave them there.

      ‘You aren’t in any condition to travel.’

      She winced as if he slapped her across the cheek. ‘I’m stronger than I look.’

      He knew she was stronger than she looked; her standing before him was testament to that. Her determination to be part of a band of mercenaries showed her bravery, but he could see the trembles beneath. Despite himself, he admired her standing firm.

      If he didn’t have someone after him, would he take her? Given his anger at just the thought of last night, he knew the answer. Unfortunately for them both, he didn’t have the luxury of such questions. Though he had been taught a lesson, Rudd might try to harm her, but he was too much of a coward