Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

W hen she'd heard the door open, Elara had thought perhaps it was Sir Eamon. Her friend and mentor was one of the few people who knew of this spot. It was he who suggested it when Elara had complained once of having no place on the castle grounds aside from her bedchamber where she could find solitude.

But it was not Eamon.

Elara's breath caught when she realized precisely who had come through the courtyard's hidden door. From the moment he'd first stepped into her lessons, Elara had been guarding herself against the pull she felt toward the blacksmith's son.

She had been around many handsome men before, both here and during her years at court. Elara had even been kissed a few times, and had felt the pull of desire more than once. But never in the four and twenty years she'd been alive had Elara been drawn to a man the way she had to Alden of Shirsten St. Mary.

Of course his size had been the first thing she'd noticed. Both taller and more muscled than any of the other recruits, evident even through his tunic, he demanded attention. Beyond that, and his clean-shaven cheekbones and full lips, it was his eyes that made it difficult to look away. Thoughtful eyes, something she could appreciate as a woman who valued intelligence.

And then there was the way he used them to look at her...

It was what made the man so very dangerous. While other recruits had hinted at Elara's beauty or made comments she'd quickly taken them to task for, Alden's appreciation of her was quieter, but present nonetheless. An entanglement with him was strictly forbidden, of course. Even Eamon would find it difficult to defend such an encroachment. Not only would it cost her a place of honor among a cause both Elara and her father believed in, she would be forced to return to court—something she could not do at present.

"Some would disagree," Alden said. His footfalls as he walked toward her were drowned out by the sound of water in the fountain. "I am but a simple blacksmith's son, nothing more or less."

Elara could not imagine how he must feel, the only man among some of the most esteemed knights in England, not a knight himself. It was also an honor, though, to have been recruited despite his lack of knighthood.

"How did you find this place?" Elara was genuinely curious.

"I was in the courtyard, as I've been many times, not having ever seen the hidden door. But this eve, the moonlight shone just right and..." He shrugged. "I am here."

"Indeed, you are."

Elara should excuse herself. Her body's awareness of him, as it always had been with this man, was reason enough. And yet, she did not.

"How did you discover it?" he asked, looking around the small inner courtyard hidden from every side, including from above them.

"There are few spots at Castle Blackwood afforded to the only female instructor here that offer privacy. Sir Eamon," she added, more directly, "showed it to me a long time ago."

Those intense brown eyes of his...Elara could not look away even as she cursed herself for it.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

They'd never spoken about anything other than political and wartime strategy, topics she knew better than most courtesy of her father. Answering his question would be treading down a path Elara could not afford to tread.

And yet, she'd long wished for a more personal conversation with her apprentice.

If this were a game of chess, she was about to expose her queen.

"This is the third summer I've seen at Castle Blackwood."

More questions lingered between them.

He regarded her for a moment and then said, "Are you glad to have Evelina and Amalia here to speak with?"

Intuitive, as always.

Elara was very glad for it. Lady Evelina had married the recruit Sir Gareth, bringing along her maid, Amalia, who was now married to Gareth's friend Sir Roland. Before their arrival, no other women, save servants, had resided at Blackwood. After the previous master of horsemanship was killed in battle and Sir Gareth took his place, he became a colleague to Elara, and his wife, a trusted confidant.

"I am," she said simply. And since such reticence was not in her nature, even if most people would describe Elara as reserved, she asked a question of her own. "How did the four of you become such close friends?"

It was well-known that Gareth, Roland, Alden, and Darien had been inseparable from the start. Of course, many bonds of friendship had sprung up from such tight quarters and a shared goal such as that of their order, but the four mens' bond seemed unique.

"We share similar values," he said. "Admittedly, we are very different in many ways, but an opportunity arose for our loyalty to be tested."

"Usually a virtue such as loyalty develops over time."

His eyes did not wander. Despite the deep cut of her gown, they never veered downward. Alden was a gentleman, a fact that should not disappoint her. Yet Elara found herself wanting to take a step toward him. Wanting any hint of impropriety to rear its head even when it should not.

"As I said, my lady, opportunities arose that tested our loyalty, a virtue important to each of us."

When Alden smiled, the effect was not lost on her. Steeling her shoulders back, Elara refused to give any hint how much so.

"Even Roland."

She could not resist a small smile of her own. "He is...quite the figure."

"A kind way of putting it."

"Though it seems Lady Amalia has tamed him, if slightly."

Roland was the unlikeliest member of their group of four. Though he had always been more interested in women than he'd been in his studies, Roland's actions had also proven heroic in battle. And though that battle had been lost, Sir Roland proved himself to the order, and to Lady Amalia as well.

"In some ways, aye," he said. "In others, Roland will never be tamed."

"I should hope not," she said. "His sword arm will be needed yet."

"As all ours will be needed, with luck. This current stalemate is not ideal."

"Nay," she agreed. "It is not." Elara cocked her head to the side. "Tell me, Master Alden. Why did you allow yourself to be recruited to us?"

"Simply Alden," he said. "Though my father forges weapons for the royal family, he is no supporter of the king. He believes, as I do, it is Empress Matilda with the stronger claim. You could speak to Lord Stirling and Sir Eamon about how they learned of me, why they recruited me. As to your specific question, there are many reasons I accepted the charge."

Elara could guess at them. "I have spoken to Sir Eamon about your recruitment," she admitted.

"I assume you do as much with all recruits?"

Elara could lie. "Nay," she said instead. "I do not."

His lips parted, as if he would respond to her. Instead, he closed them.

What would it feel like to kiss those lips?

Alden would consume her, entirely and completely. She was certain of it.

"It pleases me to hear it," he said.

His words were so unexpected, so forward, Elara did not know how to respond, despite her salacious thoughts. Anything she said now would encourage the kind of discussion Elara had avoided with Alden thus far.

"Apologies for saying as much." Alden inclined his head. "I will leave you to your privacy and will not intrude on it further."

Before she could stop him, or refute his words, he turned and left. Stopping him would not do. They'd spoken for too long on topics which had naught to do with those an instructor and her apprentice should engage in. She may have had more personal discussions with other recruits, but none whose lips she stared at, wondering how they would feel on hers.

And that last point made all the difference.