“What are you doing?”
“I’m not leaving you alone. I can either sit outside your door or be more comfortable here in the chair. Or if you prefer…” He nodded toward the bed, giving her the best teasing smirk he could muster.
“You said the noise was another guest.” Her eyes widened in disbelief, but not after a hot flush rushed up her neck and stained her cheeks pink.
“The chair it is. Douse the candle and go to sleep. We have a long ride tomorrow.”
No sooner had he closed his eyes was he breathing softly as if asleep. There was a rustling of clothes, a squeak of the bed and finally the candle was snuffed out.
He didn’t take Davenport for a foolish man. This man was a soldier. Direct, to the point and thought highly of himself. Andrea was sensitive to the words he used, but Davenport’s conversation was nothing harmful or foreboding. In minutes, he was asleep.
Chapter Twelve
Andrea woke to the first rays of sun. Donald was gone. She dressed in her travel clothes, made sure everything was packed, and went downstairs with her satchel. A servant stood at his post at the foot of the steps.
“The comte and Lord Eden are in the family solar. This way, m’lady.”
They passed through the great hall and she marveled that there had been a party the night before. The servant opened the solar door. The comte and Donald stood at the brazier.
“I hope you slept well. I’m afraid Marie is sleeping in this morning,” the comte said.
“I had a wonderful time last night. Please thank Marie for the loan of her gown.”
“Donald told me you need to set off quickly. I regret that you have to leave us so soon. You must come back for the wedding. I can assure you that Davenport will not be in attendance. I’m sorry he upset you. He was not an invited guest.”
“Marie seemed to know him.”
“Yes, everyone here knows him. It’s one of the reasons she took Donald looking for you. He has a way of making women uncomfortable. With everyone on the lawn, Marie expected him to behave.”
“Please don’t be concerned. I’ll know what to do if I should meet him again.”
“What will you do?” Donald stifled a laugh.
“Use whatever is at hand, a sword, a stick – a rock, if that is all that is available.”
“You are very brave, but don’t underestimate Davenport. He is not a man to be toyed with.” The serious expression on the comte’s face brought her up short. She may make light of last night’s chat, but the weight bared down on her.
“What is the terrain between here and Calais?”
“It’s a full day’s ride. Most of the journey is past rolling hills filled with vineyards with a brief ride through the Guides Forest. A good place to rest and water the horses is at the Leie River, a mile before you reach the woods. The lower road is rutted, not well repaired, and will cost you time. It’s mainly for carriages and wagons. You’d best take the upper road: it is shorter, takes you along the ridge where you have a clear view of everything. However, this late in August, the watering areas are almost dry.”
“That’s why we stop before we enter the forest,” Andrea said.
“Yes. Once you’re clear of the forest, you have two hours of open land. As you get close to Calais you’ll be in the marshes.”
Andrea gave the comte a kiss on the cheek. “It was a wonderful evening.”
Their good-byes complete, they left the comte and headed for the stable. Donald helped her onto Ebony then mounted his horse. They rode out the castle gate at a good pace.
“Why did you ask about the terrain?”
“I’ve traveled from Calais to Paris. Never this far north. I wanted to know what to expect.”
Their morning was uneventful. With the sun high in the sky, they stopped at Leie under a weeping willow at the water’s edge.
Andrea took out the food that the cook packed for them. Slices of cold ham, cheese and bread, along with a skin filled with ale. She sat with her back against the tree and watched Donald.
He had removed his tunic and stood rubbing down the horses before he fed and watered them.
Her hands didn’t hurt, but her backside would be glad when they were done riding. The warmth, the fragrant meadow, and the tinkling of the stream made her eyes droop.
“Are you tired?”
She popped open her eyes, unaware she had nodded off.
He sat next to her. “Close your eyes. There is time for you to rest.”
Andrea put her head on his shoulder.
“With any luck, Hugh’s ship will still be in port. Get ready for more riding. We have a week’s ride north to Alnwick.”
Andrea didn’t respond. Inwardly, she groaned.
He glanced and found her sleeping. He studied her lashes, the bend of her nose and the shape of her lips. Kissable. Sweet. Warm. Passionate.
He wondered how this adventure would end. The Sword will fail. Did that mean the end for them both? He would never know because he would die before anything happened to his Andrea.
“His Andrea.” The words sounded sweet to his ears.
She moved and cuddled closer.
“You are tempting, my sweet. And I wish I could let you sleep, but I cannot.”
He gave her a gentle shake. She didn’t move.
“Rea. You need to wake. It’s time to be on our way.”
She moved still closer.
“Rea.” He shook her a bit harder and smiled when the corners of her lips turned up just a bit.
“Let me sleep.”
The Sword will fail. Was knowing your time together was short better than what happened to Graham, Isla’s sudden death?
“You tempt me like no other,” he said softly.
“I could tempt you more.” Her voice was low and hoarse as her eyes fluttered open.
“I would enjoy your temptation, but we’ve
