The Traitor's Daughter. Joanna Makepeace

as they entered the inn and Cressida went hastily to Peter, who was sitting up in a hard-backed chair by the fire looking pale and anxious, but, otherwise, his true self. Philippa was thankful that the blow did not appear to have affected his memory for he was lucid enough.

      “Do not fret, sister. I am feeling better already after imbibing some of the landlord’s best wine. I’m only angered at myself for being less cautious and rendering you both without protection and leaving you open to danger.”

      “This good knight has proved to be our saviour,” Cressida said reassuringly. “Now, rest, Peter and get well. We must see how you fare in the morning before we decide to travel.”

      He was about to argue, but she prevented him with a gentle squeeze upon his hand.

      Sir Rhys led them above stairs, after ordering the landlord to serve them with the best supper he could provide.

      The room was surprisingly large and comfortably appointed. Philippa looked round appreciatively. “I am sorry, sir, that you must be put out….”

      He laughed as he picked up a saddle bag which, presumably, contained a change of clothes and necessities for travelling. “I assure you that David and I have slept in far worse places than the tap room of this inn and, as I said, it will be wiser, considering that it appears to harbour thieves, a matter which I shall take up with our host. Please make yourselves at home and try to rest and, at last, sleep after your trying adventures. I will send David up with your belongings.”

      He brushed by Philippa in order to reach the door and she felt herself trembling again at his touch. He bowed to her mother. “Please, Lady Wroxeter, accept my apologies for these unfortunate events, happening so soon after your arrival back in your native land after such a long absence.”

      Philippa saw her mother give a great gasp of surprise and shock and she herself put a hand to her mouth in dismayed astonishment.

      “Sir—”

      He stemmed Cressida’s attempts at denial with a lordly wave of his hand.

      “Sir Daniel Gretton’s beautiful daughter could not be mistaken for any other, my lady. Her fame spread through the Marches and I had the advantage of seeing you once with your father in the market in Ludlow. That was considerably before you married my lord Earl.” He smiled broadly. “I was merely eight years old then but, like all the other males in the district, I fell completely under the spell of Gretton’s faery princess.” His gaze passed to Philippa and dwelt on her slight form, trembling now with another fear that he was aware of their true identities. “Your daughter, my lady, has been blessed in inheriting your golden loveliness. I am honoured to be of service. I will pay my respects in the morning. Please excuse me now.”

      He withdrew and closed the door before either of the astounded women could say a word in answer.

      Chapter Two

      Philippa woke to find sunlight coming through the unshuttered casement and almost blinding her. She slipped from the bed, careful not to waken her mother who was still sleeping beside her. She went to the window and found, to her delight, that the mist and dampness of the previous day had disappeared and the sun was already well up. She gave a sigh of relief. Provided that Peter was well enough to travel after yesterday’s misadventure, they would be able to make an early start and be well on their way before midday.

      She had slept well considering how frightened and disturbed she had been last night. Exhaustion had taken its toll of them both. Her thoughts went to the stranger lord who had come to their help. It had been extremely kind of him to put his private chamber at their disposal, but she recalled her mother’s alarmed expression when he had announced that he had recognised her. It would be well if they could avoid seeing him again, though Philippa doubted that that would be possible.

      A sound from the bed alerted her to the knowledge that, despite her care not to disturb her mother, Cressida had woken and was already sitting up.

      “Is there something wrong?” she enquired doubtfully. “Have you heard someone at the door?”

      “No, no one. The inn servants are already about their business. It is a fine day. We should be able to leave soon after breakfast as long as Peter is well enough.”

      Cressida thrust back the bed covers and stepped from the bed. “I’ll dress at once. We must call a physician to Peter if there is need.”

      Philippa went to her mother’s side to help her dress. Since they had decided it would be best, for this journey, to travel without a maid in attendance, it had been necessary for them to help each other with back lacings.

      Once her mother was dressed she hastened to dress herself and was relieved that she had done so when she heard a knock on the door.

      Peter Fairley’s voice called softly, “It is I, my lady, Peter. I have brought you some breakfast.”

      Philippa hastened to let him in, relieved to see he was up and about.

      “Peter, how are you this morning?”

      He set down a tray on which was laid fresh manchet bread, a small pot of honey and a plate of ham and cold meats and a stoup of ale.

      “I’m very well except for a bump on the back of my head as big as a pigeon’s egg.” He rubbed it ruefully. “I blame myself for total lack of caution. I could have put us all in danger.”

      “You mustn’t blame yourself,” Cressida reassured him. “Who would expect to be attacked in the inn yard?”

      “To speak truth, anyone should, my lady. My only excuse is that we were all tired and chilled and I was in haste to see to your needs.”

      “Well, all is well.” Cressida smiled. “We will breakfast quickly and try to make an early start.” She frowned in thought. “I have some coin left which, fortunately, I kept in a money belt beneath my gown, but the loss of some of our funds in the robbery is dire. We shall have to be careful on the journey and settle for accommodation not of the best.” She had already put out a small pile of coin upon the bed. “Take that and make the best bargain you can over mounts, Peter, but first, have you eaten?”

      “Yes, my lady. I shall get off at once. Sir Rhys’s man, David, speaks of a reasonably honest horse coper, who has a stable in the street behind the harbour.”

      “Good.” Lady Wroxeter nodded her approval.

      Then Philippa said thoughtfully, “Did you discover anything about our rescuer of last night, Peter? Unfortunately he appeared to recognise Mother and we are anxious to avoid his company now.” She coloured. “That seems to be very ungrateful, but you understand the need better than any of us.”

      With his hand on the door latch, Peter turned, clearly hesitant to speak. “Sir Rhys Griffith, my lady, is master of the greater part of my lord Earl’s estates. His father was granted them following the battle of Redmoor, for his services to the new King. Sir David was killed in a hunting accident a year ago.” He grinned somewhat wolfishly. “He was somewhat appropriately gored by a boar and did not recover from the wound which festered, and his son, Rhys, who had been knighted the year before, inherited.”

      There was a deadly silence as the three exchanged alarmed glances.

      Philippa exclaimed hotly, “So the man has robbed my father of his lands and—”

      “He cannot be held responsible for what his father did at Redmoor,” Cressida reproved her gently, “but I confess this news is catastrophic. The man could prove a very real danger to us, indeed.”

      “He has enquired after you both,” Peter said grimly. “I’m afraid that it will prove very difficult for us to leave the inn without encountering him.”

      “And his manor is far too close to Gretton for our peace of mind,” Lady Wroxeter said regretfully.

      Philippa paled. “Do you think our going there could put Grandmère and Grandpère in danger?”