She wasn’t normally the worrisome sort, but here, with a stranger in a remote area of the garden, she was uncomfortable.
“Alas, I never had the good fortune of meeting the man, only his granddaughter.”
He stepped closer. Too close. She looked toward the horizon at the setting sun.
“Pity. He returned personal items of the fallen soldiers to their families. Some say he was trusted with Templar gold and silver. That would be some treasure.”
She willed, with all her might, that the flush of heat that raced up her neck not reach her cheeks and give her away. By all that was holy she was glad she wasn’t facing him.
“His granddaughter spoke of his selfless mission. Do you know her?” The bishop mentioned how Maurice spoke of Charlotte often by name. Surely if Davenport were as close to him as he said, he would know it.
“Not personally. Regrettably, we went our different ways. I never visited him after we both returned to France.”
The man was a devil, baiting her and standing closer than what was deemed acceptable. Staying here as the sky darkened was not an option. Silly girl. How did you get yourself in this position? How far was the castle? With a casual turn she looked for the candlelit windows.
“Donald.” He was walking toward them with Marie on his arm. She went to them, leaving Davenport by himself. “Are you finished with conducting business?”
“I told you the sunset was beautiful here.” Marie released Donald’s arm and interlaced it through Andrea’s. “But, we must get back or you’ll miss my big moment.”
Marie led the way back. The two men stood there. Marie looked over her shoulder.
“Are you coming? You wouldn’t want to miss the fun.”
The men started behind them.
Donald watched Andrea leave for the garden with Lord Davenport. Marie stood near him speaking with her guests. He closed the deal with the comte, and Marie joined him, suggesting Donald go with her to rescue Andrea. Once Davenport started talking, she’d explained, there was no stopping him.
“Lord Davenport strolled with her in the garden.” They both glanced out the door. A few people milled around the threshold, but no one was in the garden.
“I told her about the sunset. I know where they are.” She looped her arm in his and they were off.
Marie’s hand trembled on his arm. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He looked toward the line of trees and was relieved when he spied them. So was Marie.
As soon as Andrea caught sight of them she practically ran to him.
“The sunset is everything Marie promised, and look at the great hall windows.” They turned toward the castle. “You outdid yourself.”
They headed toward the castle. As they reached the steps, Donald noticed that Davenport left them for a path that led to the side. He had an urge to excuse himself and follow the man, but decided against it.
The doors from the garden to the great hall were thrown wide open. The comte waved to them and came down the steps.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. Come and hurry. You don’t want to keep your father waiting.”
Marie hurried to Guy. For a moment, they stared at each other and smiled.
“I don’t think this is a political match, or one for money or land,” Andrea leaned over and whispered to him. “This is a love match.”
He and Andrea followed the happy couple into the great hall amid cheers and shouts of congratulations.
In the darkening evening, John II, Duke of Britany and Earl of Richmond, announced the forthcoming marriage of his daughter, Marie, to Guy IV of Châtillon, Comte of Saint Pol.
Everyone crowded the couple with their congratulations. Lord Benjamin Davenport was nowhere to be seen.
“Can we go somewhere quiet?” Andrea asked.
Donald raised his eyebrow and gave her a smile that made her stomach flutter.
“Be serious.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” he teased.
She gave him an icy glare.
“Come with me.” He took her hand and led her away from the crowd and into the empty grand hallway. “Everyone will leave through the garden.”
He brought her upstairs, to her room. Once inside Donald closed and locked the door behind them. Andrea lit a candle.
“What is so important that you wanted to be away from everyone?” he asked, sitting on the only chair in the room.
Andrea paced. She stopped to speak several times, but only for a moment before resuming to walk between him and the window. Finally, she stood in front of him.
“Lord Davenport isn’t who he says he is.”
His easy-going smile shifted to a wary expression. Even though she spoke softly he gestured for her to lower her voice. “What makes you say that?”
“He may be a military man, but I found too many things he said alarming.” She kept pacing.
“Go on.”
“He brought up Tunis and mentioned that he was part of the king’s retinue, with the king when he died, in the field.” She waited for him to realize Davenport’s error. “Maurice and the bishop were with the king at a fortress—”
“Le Kef. It’s outside the capital. The bishop mentioned the place,” he said. “He could have used ‘the field’ in a broad sense of the word.”
She took in a deep breath. “He spoke about Maurice’s connection to the Knights Templar.”
Donald stiffened.
“He referenced the Templar gold and silver as a treasure.”
Donald calmly stood and reached for her. “There were many who thought Maurice was involved with the Templars although his participation was never proven. Davenport may think he knows or is trying to make himself, a former soldier, appear important. Did he say ‘treasure beyond measure’?”
“No, only treasure,” she said.
“Many think of the Templar gold and silver as a treasure. The man means nothing.”
A sound in the hallway outside made them both look toward the door. He bent and whispered in her ear.
“It’s probably another guest finding their bed for the night. You have good reason to be disturbed.”
“Not disturbed. Alarmed.”
“Yes. That. Too. We’ll leave early in the morning. Now go to
