And it amused her to think how he’d taken everybody in—Kate, Sir Thomas, even the servants. Everyone but herself.
“You said you’d speak of it to no one,” Kit reminded her, so forcefully the amusement vanished. There was more to this story than he was prepared to admit. There had to be.
“So, what woman caught your eye so irresistibly, you were prepared to risk your good name?” Womanizer he might be, but he didn’t strike her as a fool.
“I’ll name no names, for the lady’s sake.”
She thought his mouth flickered with distaste. Whoever the lady had been, she’d not been worth the sacrifice. “So, I am not to know her name, or yours?” She let out a huff of annoyance. “Then answer me this—how came you to be banished to Selwood Manor. Only Sir Thomas Kirlham has a connection at court—is it with his contrivance you come to be here?”
Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “Most certainly not.” He glanced around the pavilion, frowning slightly, before his gaze came back to hers. “Nay. ’Twas the lady’s father who advised the queen on my place of exile. He chose Selwood as being dull and obscure—pardon my frankness. He knew it would thoroughly frustrate me.”
“And has it?”
His eyes sparkled and a smile played about his lips. “Not so much as I feared.”
She thrust away the pull of attraction—he was merely trying to divert her from her questioning. “If Selwood is so obscure, how came anyone at court to think of it? Unless, of course, the lady you toyed with has some connection with us.”
Was it someone who had known Kate’s late husband? It was infuriating that Kit wasn’t prepared to speak out—she didn’t like mysteries. Until he gave her those names and connections, it would be rash to trust him. There was a stubborn set to his jaw now, hinting that any further questions would not be answered.
At that moment, there was a jingle of bells beyond the tent flap, and a loud drumbeat started up. Alys sucked in a breath. “It’s the Mummers.” A welcome escape from the taut atmosphere that now flooded the wise woman’s pavilion. “Shall you mind if we go and watch?”
Kit nodded, his smile warming her. “You are very polite, now that you know my true status. Even if you do despise the man beneath.”
“If you’re fishing for compliments, you’re wasting your time.” She wasn’t going to admit that she liked him, was fascinated by him, even. In fact, God forbid, she was sinfully attracted to him.
He held the flap aside for her, and they followed the colorful troupe.
The rest of the visit was spent watching a hilarious performance of the play Mankind and exploring the rest of the market. With Kit’s tall figure by her side, Alys felt safe and protected, enjoying the truce that had settled between them. He bought his seeds, she, her ribbons, they ate sweet pastries, listened to the ballad singer, and applauded the dances of the tinkers—and she dreaded the moment she’d have to return home. Never before had she felt so free of her usual constraints.
When she’d run out of reasons to linger—and remembered how vicious Kate might be if she didn’t hurry home—Kit offered to escort her back to the manor. It was almost dusk by the time he lifted her onto her horse, and the crowds had dispersed. The high road leading back towards Selwood Manor and the neighboring villages was virtually empty.
The peace of the evening descended over Alys as the horse slowly trotted its way homeward. Night birds had awakened and soared noiselessly overhead, bats chirruped faintly, and small insects began their relentless cacophony from the wayside grasses. She watched Kit’s back as he walked her mare, Pennyroyal, enjoying his confident stride, the upright fluidity of his lean, well-shaped body and the swing of his over-long hair.
Thus she couldn’t help but notice, the closer they got to the manor, the more his shoulders drooped, the slower his step. He looked for all the world like a down-trodden estate worker straggling home to his rest—for the benefit of the Selwood household, mayhap?
Suddenly, she noticed he’d left his hat behind.
“Kit—” Her words died in her mouth.
Up ahead, the roadway was occupied by three stocky men, all looking decidedly unsteady on their feet. Kit pulled the horse to a stop, and gazed intently ahead.
Footpads? Surely not even Kit could hold off three of them?
Chapter Sixteen
The strangers ignored Kit and gave Alys all their attention. Foolishly.
“What have we here?” slurred one, a ruffian who seemed almost as wide as Kit was tall. “A lady and her groom returning from market? Just the pair of you, eh?”
“I’m sure you could spare a penny or two in alms for us poor unfortunates.” Another fellow slyly took hold of the horse’s girth.
“We have spent all our coin at market. We have nothing for vagrants.” If Alys was afraid, she masked it well.
The third man, whose scraggly beard obscured much of his face, came so close, she whipped her face away from his foul breath. Kit readied his fists.
“We wouldn’t object to some of your pretty purchases then, precious lady,” the bearded one said in a wheedling voice. “They’d be almost as useful to us as coin.”
Not beggars. Thieves. Squaring his shoulders, Kit confronted the three drunks. “Step aside.” He kept his voice soft.
They either failed to hear the menace in his tone or chose to ignore it. One of them whipped out a hand to grab the horse’s bridle. In a second, Kit had him on his back in the roadway, groaning and clutching at his jaw. The others made a grab for Kit’s arms, but he caught them by their greasy collars and lifted them off the ground. Their heads came together with a satisfying crunch.
“Keep the horse away if you will. We don’t want to harm these fools any more than necessary.” He spoke louder now and shot a significant look at Alys. Brave girl! She saluted him with
