Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

H e never came.

Elara refused to be disappointed. She had little to report and likely Alden had no news for her either. Perhaps that was the reason for his absence. Or perhaps she had overstepped by prompting a conversation that the two of them should not have had. Either way, it did not matter. She'd been tasked with finding their traitor, and she would do so.

With or without her inside man.

"Mistress Ada, a word, if you please?"

The kitchen maid had been chosen from the village to serve at Blackwood after losing her former master to battle with King Stephen's forces. Elara had spoken to her on occasion and liked the maid. She also served the hall and was one of the hardest working of all the staff at Blackwood.

"Of course, my lady." Ada left the kitchen as Elara gestured to the cook that she was speaking to the maid. Heading into the corridor that led outside, as Blackwood's kitchen was in a separate building than the keep, Elara pulled the maid aside.

"I've a task for you," she said, knowing that her next words would be considered unseemly by many. But finding the traitor could save lives, including her own father's, and Elara would do anything to ensure his safety and keep their cause secure.

"Aye, my lady? What is it that you wish?"

Elara leveled a gaze at the maid that the Queen of England, a woman Elara had met many times, might envy. She was shrewd, perhaps more so than her husband, and Elara channeled such energy now. "I wish for you to listen, and observe, for me. Speak to no one of our conversation, report anything unusual to me when I return to speak with you, but do not seek me out."

And now for the bit Elara wished she could omit, but was necessary.

"Do this, and have none learn of it, and I will see that your mother is well taken care of. The village healer has not been able to help her, aye?"

The girl's eyes wide, she said nothing, but nodded.

"I will send for another healer from Brackenford."

Elara had not yet secured the coin to do so, but she would. Any expense in finding those who would betray their cause was not too great.

"Another healer," the girl murmured.

"Aye. There are few here, including our own Lady Amalia, who I've spoken with on the matter, with knowledge of the wasting sickness. 'Tis what your mother suffers from, is it not?"

"Aye."

"I've found such a person and will send for them posthaste. Will you do this for me, Ada?"

"What shall I watch for, my lady?"

Elara could not tell the maid any more. She'd considered a similar offer with her own maid, whom Elara trusted far more than this girl she hardly knew, but only Ada and two others had access to nearly every person in this castle in her duties as both a kitchen and serving maid.

"Any conversation, any action, which feels uncertain...unusual. I cannot say more, and if you speak of this with anyone, I will know of it." Elara disliked the threatening tone she used, but had no choice but to make the girl believe her words. "Can you do this?"

"Of course, my lady. I am most grateful for your aid. My mother does not fare well, and none have been able to help her."

Elara prayed the healer from Brackenford that Lady Amalia had told her about would be able to do so. "I will send for the healer this very day."

"Shall I come to you if—"

"Nay," Elara cut in. "I will seek you out."

With a small curtsy, Ada returned to the kitchen. Praying Ada would remain silent, and that she could discover something, Elara conducted her morning lessons. Afterward, she skipped the midday meal in favor of a meeting with the steward. Finishing there, and then her afternoon lesson, Elara's stomach reminded her she must eat.

"Lila," she said, spotting the maid in the great hall. "Will you have a meal brought to my chamber?"

"Of course, my lady. I will fetch that for you straightaway."

Of all the servants besides her own, Elara liked the young woman most of all. The eldest daughter of the village's innkeeper, a man well-known to despise the king for his increased taxes, she was also more competent than most. Although her father was not pleased to lose his most competent worker to Castle Blackwood, he was pleased to have her serve such a cause.

Elara next arranged for a hot bath to be brought to her. As it was well before the evening meal would be served, if Alden did come to her chamber, it would be much later. She would instruct both the meal and bath to be left until the morrow.

If he came, that was.

Elara had considered seeking him out, to ask why he failed to do so last eve, but decided against it. She was no eager maid wishing to entertain him in that way, and if he had something to report to her, Alden would likely have come.

It was only later, as she sank into the tub, that Elara allowed her mind to wander back to Alden. She'd kept it occupied all day, considering who else knew of the Guardians of the Sacred Oak, outside the castle. The parents of the servants, for instance, must be considered. But now, as her hands ran over her hips, Elara wondered what it would feel like if those hands were Alden's. She moved them upward, over her stomach and onto her breasts. Though it was a sin to touch oneself in such ways, Elara did so anyway.

No man had ever touched her in such a way. Would she enjoy it? Would Alden run his thumbs over her nipples, causing them to peak as they did now?

A knock at her door interrupted Elara's thoughts. Having finished cleansing herself, she bolted out of the wooden tub and wrapped herself.

"My lady? 'Tis Lila, with your supper."

Elara opened the chamber door. Lila and the maid who had served her previously, a woman named Sarah, came into the chamber.

"Are you certain you do not wish for my aid, my lady?" Sarah asked, seeing her in a drying cloth.

Before she could say "nay," Sarah had placed the tray she carried onto the table in the antechamber and returned to open one of three trunks Elara had brought with her to Blackwood. Pulling out a dressing gown, one not appropriate for Alden's potential visit, Sarah made toward Elara.

"I will help you with the ties," she said, "if you will finish drying."

By now, Lila had also placed the wine pitcher and goblet in the antechamber as well. Just as Elara was about to tell Sarah she did not require her aid, something stopped her. She'd already dismissed her maid and did not wish to raise any further suspicions. She would simply change into a gown when the young woman left.

When they did leave, Elara headed toward the same trunk from which Sarah had fetched the dressing gown. Another knock stopped her. This time, it came from the antechamber.

It could not be. Alden, if he were coming, would not arrive for some time. However, as she made her way into the room, the roasted chicken reminding Elara how little she'd eaten that day, another knock clearly sounded.

Moving the tapestry aside, she asked, "Alden?"

"Aye," his voice sounded, low and clear from behind the door.

Elara looked down. She should not receive him in this. "I—"

She stopped, remembering the tub. Cursing her weakness around this man, she opened the door. His eyes immediately dipped down to the low cut of the gown, only one layer between it and her skin. She wore nothing under it and was certain a flush would be visible on her chest and cheeks alike.

"I did not expect you so soon," she said, by way of an explanation.

"Forgive me," he said, making no move to step farther into the chamber. "I had some difficulty coming last eve, after the meal, and thought to skip it to avoid notice."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Nay," he said. "I do not need—"

Elara gestured to the table. "I had a meal brought to me. There is enough for two people, or more. Come inside," she said.

So it was that Elara found herself sharing a meal and drink, in a bed gown, with the very man she had not been able to stop thinking of since he'd come to Castle Blackwood, and certainly not for these past few days.

After he explained how he'd been waylaid the evening before, Elara asked if he suspected Stirling again. "I know we had this discussion when he visited my chamber," she said. "But I do wonder if your feelings have changed? 'Tis difficult for me to keep a clear mind about him, given our history."

"Perhaps," Alden said. "I do believe him worthy of watching more closely."

She frowned. "Unfortunately, I cannot ask Pembroke to participate in the same level of increased scrutiny. He and Stirling have become quite close."

"But still, you do not suspect the steward?"

Alden licked his thumb, an innocent enough gesture given the juices that flowed from the roasted chicken that they shared. But when he did, she spied his tongue and had some difficulty removing the image from her mind.

She looked away. Concentrated on sipping her wine. Slowly. Forgetting what she'd seen.

Putting it back on the table, Elara breathed deeply and evenly, slowing her racing pulse.

"Not more than any others. Have you learned anything else?"

Alden picked up his goblet as if he were a courtier, his mealtime manners as refined as any other knight, and sat back in his chair.

"I overheard a conversation between two recruits who don't usually interact much. They were speaking in hushed tones about our last mission. It struck me as strange, and something to watch."

"Which recruits?"

Alden cocked his head to the side. "You said during lessons, once, that when a person mimics your movements, it says much about their interest in the discussion."

Belatedly, Elara realized she was sitting back, her wine goblet propped on the arm of her chair, precisely as Alden's was. She'd done it without thinking, but he was very much correct. She'd conducted an entire lesson on how to decipher small movements of others, an important skill in negotiations. That particular one was telling, as typically one did it without realizing their own movements.

"I did," she said cautiously.

Elara waited, but Alden did not elaborate.

Smiling, she admitted defeat. "I also said, if you are negotiating, do not answer an unasked question."

"Speak only when necessary," he mimicked her, making Elara laugh as Alden perfectly captured her tone. "Every word that leaves your lips may be used as much against you as in your favor."

"Was there, if you will force me to ask the question, a specific point to your initial observation?"

"Nay," he said innocently, though as she got to know him, Elara realized Alden was anything but. "Just, as you said, an observation. I thought also to impress you with my memory of your lesson."

"I believe we established already that I am most interested in our discussions," she said. "That was your initial goal, was it not? For me to admit as much?"

"Your directness is admirable."

"As is your cunning."

"Aye, it was my goal."

"Why?"

Alden leaned forward, placing his wine goblet on the table. "The truth?"

"Is always preferable."

"Because I saw the way you looked at me earlier and am having difficulty concentrating on more serious topics since."

She would not deny it. "I believe we discussed our mutual...interest...as well as the many reasons acting on such interests would be at best, inappropriate. At worst, dangerous."

"We did."

"Then there is naught more for us to discuss on this particular topic."

"I disagree."

He could surely hear Elara's very heartbeat, as she could easily do so, each beat ringing in her ears.

"Do continue."

"We failed..." He pushed back his seat. "To discuss..." Alden strode around the table, toward her. Every movement both slow and methodical. But also, deliberate.

She could not breathe. At least, it felt as if she could not, but her shoulders rose and fell nonetheless. She did not take her eyes from him.

When he reached her, Alden paused.

And squatted beside her chair.

Picking up her kerchief, one she had not noticed had fallen from the table, he stood and handed it to her.

"We failed to discuss why you ended our conversation when I mentioned my possessive nature."

She swallowed.

"Elara?"

"Aye?" she asked, the voice certainly not belonging to her. At least, Elara never heard herself sound quite so guttural before.

"Do you wish for me to possess you?"