Chapter 5

 

 

Martin watched the girls scoot closer to each other on the rectory bench. Not what he needed tonight, he thought ruefully, the daunting task of talking sense into not one but three women. He turned to Joya. “You are treading on dangerous ground here.” Martin spoke with urgency, but remained respectful. Joya was a noblewoman, a God-fearing maid, and his late friend Giles’ fiancée. Her ordeal at the river had unsettled her, or she would never have behaved with such disgrace. Her father would handle Lord Penry, in a way that pleased the queen.

Had Tabor seen his daughter’s lewd passion with York’s spy … Martin shuddered. “You persuaded your father to release him. I have no choice but to tell him what you did. He needs to know what transpired in gaol.”

“You will not.” Joya’s voice wavered, revealing her fear.

Martin had second thoughts. Maybe he could harness that fear to keep her away from Lord Penry. But Martin couldn’t watch her every move. No. You must look out for Tabor. Get Joya under control and put Penry back in chains.

The arrogant bastard. Taking advantage of Tabor’s kindness when the garrison would prefer to hang him. Over fifty Coin Forest men had perished at Blore Heath, among them Giles, and Martin’s own father. The few survivors had told of the heinous cruelty Salisbury and his men had wrought on the queen’s troops. Penry deserved to die.

But Joya had intervened and now the knave had run of the west tower, free to gather more information to use against Margaret.

Small fingers encircled his forearm. “Martin.”

He looked squarely into the eyes of Prudence Meaker. Prettiest girl of the three, her hair the color of fresh-cut oak, curled around the ribbons of her coronet, her brown eyes wide-set, shining in good health. She always carried herself with her arms to her breasts, a manner most called peculiar, but it charmed Martin, who likened the posture to that of a small bird protecting her treasures. Dainty Prudence, who never broke into conversations like a thoughtless bull, as Camilla did. No, Prudence always arrived on a soft breeze, as she did now, her touch like a whisper on his arm. “I must have a word with you,” she said.

She led him several yards from the fire. “You are a fine-looking man,” she said boldly. Even as she uttered the words, a crimson crept up her neck, flushing her skin. Her cheeks glowed in the soft light of sunset.

He struck his ear, testing it. He couldn’t be hearing correctly. Prudence, always shy, quiet, being so bold.

“You are stronger than most men, but you control your temper. There’s honor in that. Lord Penry is sour and disagreeable, I’ve heard. Not much to like about the fellow.”

“We need to kill him.”

“We know something about Penry,” she said, her voice gentle, sweet. “Knowledge that can be of good use to Tabor. To the queen. We …” she paused and lowered her delicate lashes, and they brushed against her skin like fans. She looked up and the sun’s last rays lit flecks of gold in her eyes. Martin leaned closer, absorbing the smell of her skin, warm with a hint of flowers.

“Please.” Her eyes widened. “Give us two days with him. I will watch Joya. Make sure she doesn’t … ah … get too close to him again.”

He considered her proposal. Well, she was the sensible one of the three. Joya, strutting like a peacock, always stirring things up, and Camilla, loping along with her knowing smiles and brash laughter—there wasn’t a rule made that Camilla didn’t mind breaking. But lovely Prudence was out of line. He couldn’t have them…

“You can trust me.” The flush still lingered on her cheeks, but her eyes were direct, sincere. Her glance shot downward to her hands, still clutching his arm, and she released him. “Pray forgive me for being so bold.” She lowered her eyes. “Please. We have reason to believe we can turn him.”

“I don’t believe it.”

She met his gaze. “Only two days. I’ll be with her every moment.”

Drinking the heady spell of her closeness, he wanted to please her, but he needed to protect Tabor. Ah, but what could two days hurt? He would get the captain to double up on security so the traitor couldn’t slip away. He took her small hands in his. “Two days. Only for you.”

 

* * *

 

After the bonfires that same night, Joya followed Peter and another guard as they escorted them during the short ride back to Coin Forest. Joya reigned Goldie to the left to make room for Camilla and Prudence and together they passed the Coin Forest orchards. Early blooming apple blossoms perfumed the air and the moist earth, stirred from the horse’s hooves, released the musky sweetness of spring.

From Joya's saddle rose the tantalizing smell of smoked sausage, a treat she would give to Effie and her family. The aroma of the links mingled with that of the sweet earth and brought memories of springs past. A sense of heightened wakefulness came over her. This spring was different. Luke was in her castle now.

Luke. The trees whispered his name.

Joya looked past the drawbridge, past the ancient oak tree to the castle and the west chamber where he waited with his blue, blue eyes. She wanted to tell her friends of the sweet feelings he stirred in her, but an unusual wish for privacy kept her silent. “So, Pru. What did you say to sway Martin so quickly?” She spoke quietly, though the guards were deep into their own conversation. “I vow, you blushed so much, you almost swooned.”

Pru gave intense attention to her reins, avoiding their eyes.

“Come on, tell,” Cam said. “What did you say to him?”

Pru hesitated. “That he could count on me to make sure you don’t see Luke alone.”

“No, no, we mean what did you say to make him smile like that? Martin never smiles. Well, rarely.” Cam rode closer to Pru. I can’t see in the dark. Are you blushing again? You can’t really be interested in him. He’s only a guard.”

“He’s the captain’s son. He will be knighted.”

“You’ve given thought to this.” Surprise animated Cam’s voice. “But he’s so serious. Not like George at all.”

Pru laughed. “And I’m not at all like you, Camilla.”

“So, Cam, what about Lord Minton?” Joya asked.

“George? He has hairy arms … and great lips.”

Joya and Pru laughed.

“And he licks his lips, in the corners of his mouth, when he’s nervous.” Cam grinned. “I told him he had a nice tongue, and that he could put it to much better use.”

“You didn’t. Cam,” Joya said. “I vow, you’re brassy!”

“What?” Pru asked, reining her horse closer. “What was brassy about that?”

Cam pulled her horse to a stop. “Really, Pru. You’ve seen the bulls with the cows?”

Pru looked at them, her face blank. A moment passed, and her mouth dropped. “Cam!”

Joya and Cam laughed.

“Ladies. Don’t lag,” Peter said. “Stay with us.”

They drew up closer to the guards, maintaining enough distance for private conversation.

Joya turned their conversation back to Cam. “When George wasn’t licking his lips for you, I saw him whispering something while you were dancing. What did he say?”

“He likes my gown. See, I told you I needed to wear the green one. And he said he’s been thinking about me all this past fortnight,” Cam said.

“Yeah. Doubtless thinking of your great lips,” Joya said.

“And he knows precisely how to use his,” Cam said, laughing.

“Pru, thank you for speaking to Martin. When he saw us kissing, his jaw fell, I can tell you. He was Giles’ friend. What he must think of me.”

“He worries about your father’s standing with the queen,” Pru said. “I’m sure he doesn’t deny you happiness. It’s been a long time since Blore Heath.”

“Only seven months,” Joya said.

“Verily, but still a long time,” Pru said.

“A Yorkist,” Joya said. “I couldn’t believe it was me in that gaol, either. I’m ashamed. But I can’t think clearly when he’s around. If I have an urge to see him again, stop me!”

“Oh, child,” Cam purred. “From the look on your face right now, it will do no good.”

The castle came into view, the village snuggled outside the stone curtain like a cape, shimmering with tallow torches and oil lanterns. But the village was hushed, mainly populated by guards at paced intervals as the women approached the bridge into Coin Forest Castle. Irwin’s Inn was empty, bereft of the usual whores’ laughter and playful taunts. Only Irwin and his wife were there, sitting quietly by the fire.

“Like a graveyard,” Joya said

“Most stayed at Ilchester. George did, too.” Camilla said. “We’ll need to leave early so we don’t miss the songs.”

“You’ll need to leave early so you don’t miss George,” Joya said.

“Oh, he’ll wait for me.” She laughed. “Or I’ll find him. There’s no tree big enough that can hide him.”

The guards allowed them to enter, and Prudence led the way to the stables. “Of course he’ll wait,” Pru said. “His cone is red, red, red.”

Camilla guffawed at the crude reference to George’s passion. “Pru! There’s hope for you yet.”

“One thing’s sure,” Joya said. “This will be one morning we won’t have to drag your sorry bum out of bed.”

“You’ll be up before the cock’s crow,” Pru said.

“Certes,” Cam countered. “And you won’t sleep a wink thinking about Martin.” She sang his name a couple of times for effect.

Pru said nothing, but a slow smile pulled at her mouth.

In Joya’s chamber they washed and cleaned their teeth with Sharai’s mint leaves. “Here, Effie,” Joya said, handing her chambermaid the package of sausages.

Effie sniffed deeply. “Pork sausage. You’re so good to me, my lady. Thank you,” she said. “My family thanks you, as well.” Smiling, she set the package aside and helped them lay out their gowns and coronets for the morning.

The girls pulled the curtain aside and fell into the bed.

“I can’t believe it’s almost here. May Day,” Camilla said. “I wonder who’ll be crowned Queen.”

“And who’ll find the maypole tree,” Pru said. “I hope Martin asks me to help him.”

Joya laughed. “Do birds sing in the morning? Of course he’ll ask you. He probably looks like you do now … wide awake, staring at the fire, dreaming of you.”

Pru gave Joya a sheepish smile and turned over. The fire dwindled. Conversation died and Camilla started snoring.

Joya lay awake, watching the moon through the open curtain of her bed. May Day meant naught to her. She inhaled deeply, acutely aware with each breath that Luke was two doors away in her brother’s old chamber. She had noticed, when they passed it, that the fire was burning high. It had not been banked, which meant he was probably not going to bed yet. Was he owl-like with his habits, staying up late, she wondered?

Sleep evaded her and Joya quietly climbed out of bed and slipped into her chemise and a robe. As she put her hand on the bolt, a hand stopped her. Pru.

“Privy?” Pru asked.” We have our chamber pots.”

Joya considered lying and rejected the thought. “No.”

“Then get back in bed.”

Joya hesitated.

“You asked us to stop you.”

“I’m going to check on him. See if he needs anything.” It sounded lame as she said it.

“I promised Martin. And you promised your father,” Pru added.

“He saved my life. I need to return the favor, and if I can turn him he can be an asset to the queen.”

“Don’t be scandalous. It’s late. Do this in daylight.”

Joya felt invisible chains on her arms, weighing her down. Her stomach suffered a peculiar fluttering. Desperation pulsed through her limbs. She had to go to him. “I can’t wait.” She removed Pru’s hand from the bolt.

“I don’t understand you,” Pru said. “Wait until daylight.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand me, either, but I must go.”

Joya slipped out the door.

Pru stuck her head out into the hall. “Be back in the shake of a lamb’s tail, or I swear, I’ll come fetch you.”

Freed, Joya approached Stephen’s room. Her blood pulsed in her ears, and each breath was a trial. What’s wrong with me? A raw restlessness emboldened her.

When Luke was near, he stirred her senses. Even now, knowing she grew closer to him with each step, he affected her.

Soft snoring sounded from ahead, and Joya turned the corner that led to the west hallway. A guard slept, failing to hold his post. He leaned against the wall, reeking of mead, sprawled on the bench.

She slipped by him and reached Stephen’s door, scarred with deep scratches from Stephen’s sword play when he was a child. It was slightly ajar. She couldn’t knock and risk waking the guard. Putting her hand on the door, she opened it slightly. It creaked, unsettling her, but she forged ahead anyway, driven by a need to see him.

Inside, the fire crackled, the room comfortably warm. His opened garderobe door revealed a few of Stephen’s clothes that still remained there.

“Lord Penry?” she ventured.

A hand gripped hers.

Joya gasped and turned.

Martin drew her close and shoved his wide face into hers, mouth tight, his brows drawn in a judgmental scowl. “What in Hades’ fire are you doing here, alone?” His lowered voice had a rough edge to it.

Joya cringed at what he knew and what he suspected. She licked her dry lips, feeling very young of a sudden, very naughty, very exposed.

“Well?”

Thoughts lost all form and rattled around in her head. Finding no excuses, she returned his scowl. “’Tis no business of yours.” She fought to keep the nerves from her voice, to take him off balance with her scorn.

“Perhaps you’d rather tell Lord Tabor.” He pulled her out in the hall.

“No. No. I was…wakeful and walking, and saw the fire in Stephen’s room and wondered…” She faded into the futility of her defense. “Well, never mind. I’m back to my chamber with Cam and Pru.” She pulled free and before he could chastise her further, she hurried down the hall toward her room.

At her door, she looked farther down the hall and noted firelight coming from the solar, late as it was. And a man’s soft cough that had become familiar to her. Luke.

She entered her chamber and closed the door.

Pru slipped from the bed and approached silently. “That was quick. What happened?”

Joya pressed a hand to her heart, trying to still it. “He wasn’t there. Martin saw me.”

“Oh no. Joya! He’ll think I let him down.”

Pulling the door open again, Joya slipped away from her. “I’ll find him. Explain.”

“I promised him.”

Her impulsiveness was hurting her friend. “Don’t worry,” Joya said. “I’ll fix it.”

Confirming the hallway was empty, Joya proceeded to the solar.