Derrik pushed Amelie into the small room. An angry breath rushed out from him just as he flung the door shut. The candlelight flickered while the sound of the slamming door reverberated across the chamber.
“What the hell were you doing down there?” he demanded, raking his hand through his hair. He leaned his large frame against the door, staring at her with a furious look on his countenance.
The light from the candle cast the room in a warm glow. Except she wished that it had gone out, and she didn’t have to witness the fury in his face.
“I am sorry that you missed your supper tonight,” she said pleasantly while she lightly clasped her hands in front of her.
“I’m not talking about supper.” A fierce frown settled on his chiseled lips. “Why did you encourage that man?”
But Amelie was not cowed by his intimidating stare, and she dropped all pretenses of being polite. “Why are you asking?” she placed her hands on her hips. “I was never in any danger.”
“Never in any…?” he sputtered. His face turned red and his expression became even more irritated. “Do you know how delusional you are? Do you have any idea?”
“I told you this already,” she said tightly. “I am doing what I came here to do, which is to help my father.” She folded her arms, focusing her gaze on the crack above the wooden door frame. “If you were not here to prevent me, I would have gained much more useful insights by now.”
“For the love of God,” he exclaimed, raising his eyes to the ceiling and blowing out a blast of air from his lungs. He leveled his stare at her. And then shaking his head, he made a clicking sound with his tongue, chastising her as if she was a troublesome urchin.
Her own anger surged up into her chest. “Do not treat me as if I am a child.”
“All right, I won’t treat you like one if you act like a full-grown woman. Heed what I say, Amelie. You cannot trust everyone you speak to. We’re dealing with high crime here. If you speak to the wrong people, you will get killed. That,” he stressed, “is the truth of the matter.”
“I was not in any danger downstairs,” she said, averting her face, too angry to look at him. But then she turned her defiant eyes to him. “I was handling the situation just fine.”
“How?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “The man seemed intent on dragging you out of the tavern and possibly taking you to his hovel. Would you handle it just fine if he ravaged you?”
“’Twould not have to come to that,” she said stubbornly. “And besides, I have taken care of myself my entire life. I do not need your interference.”
“’Tis truly amazing to me that you’re still alive then,” he said acidly. “From the short time I have become acquainted with you, you have had more attacks and accidents than any woman I have ever known.”
She gave an unladylike grunt and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You exaggerate,” she declared. “Even the village idiot would not consider the mishaps I encountered anywhere near death experiences.”
“You dare call me an idiot?”
“I dare to tell the truth,” she said scathingly. “Need I point out that if I was not in the tavern with you, a fight would never have ensued? My intent was to speak to the inn keeper and be on my way. I had no plans to stay here overnight, nor had I any plans to have you stuck to my side like a nasty thorn.”
Derrik clenched his jaw, his eyes bulging slightly. “My lady, let me point out that I saved your life once again, although I don’t know why I bother,” he said, his voice filled with disgust. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you deliberately put yourself in danger.”
“As I said before, I could have taken care of myself.” She tilted her chin up in the air and looked down her nose at him. “I told you to return to Stanbury, but you insisted in following me. ‘Tis not my fault that you get into these scrapes.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but then he snapped it shut. If he could murder her with just one look, this glare would have done it.
Derrik spun on his heels and jerked the door open. But before he stepped out into the hallway, he said in a terrible voice, “If you leave this room, you will be sorry.”
And with that, he pulled the door closed, and missed seeing her tongue sticking out at him.
***
Amelie paced up and down the small chamber, feeling cooped up and helpless. She glared at the door. Derrik was likely gallivanting all over the inn and who knew where else. She let out a growl of frustration, but it didn’t make her feel any better. Then when ten minutes passed, her anger began to dissipate.
Wandering over to the small stool by the table, she sat down. She knew now that Derrik wanted to help her find her father. He had proven this enough times by intervening on her behalf. She also knew she needed Derrik’s help, but at the same time she didn’t want anything to do with him. She pressed her finger tips to her forehead as she realized her conflict. Alas, she couldn’t allow her own discomfort to take precedence over her mission.
Perhaps if they worked together as a team, they would have better success in locating her father. In all her dealings with Derrik, he sounded sincere in wanting to get to the truth, much like her. But if she angered him too much, he might change his mind and leave her. She had to admit that his menacing ways proved useful at times, especially when she needed to extract information from someone like the inn keeper. If Derrik wasn’t present, the inn keeper might have just taken her money and not reveal anything to her.
Minutes passed, and there were a dozen times when she was on the verge of opening the door and go after him to apologize, but then she thought better of it. It was best that he cooled his temper. And when he returned, she would speak to him more reasonably.
Once again, she began to pace the confines of the room. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Derrik’s words had really shaken her. She had left Stanbury Castle, confident that she had the means to defend herself, but outside the protection of her home, she was just another female.
Amelie had no idea what would have happened if Derrik hadn’t stepped in and interfered a second time. She was transfixed with horror when the man tossed ale on Derrik’s face. At any other time, she might have reacted more strongly, and prevented the stranger from dragging her across the tavern. She shuddered to think if the man really did intend to ravage her as Derrik suggested. Her screams would likely be ignored, as no one in the village would stick out their necks to assist her. As far as they were concerned, she was just another traveler passing through the village. And even though crimes against women were against the law, most people turned a blind eye to women in trouble.
Glancing at the closed shutter, Amelie heard the distinctive peal of the church bell, indicating an hour had passed.
She couldn’t wait any longer.
Although she hated to beg Derrik for help, she knew she needed to do it. Lord Stanbury was still missing, and every hour that went by became more desperate.
With Derrik’s warning ringing in her head, she gathered her courage, and went to the door. But before her hand even touched the wooden handle, the door itself swung open.
“Derrik,” she said, jumping back in surprise.
“Who else were you expecting?” he said, looking at her strangely.
She colored. “You were gone so long that I was afraid that something happened to you.”
“Oh, really,” he said, arching a doubtful brow.
“Where were you?”
“I decided I wanted to eat narrois pie after all,” he shrugged.
She eyed his curled lips suspiciously. If anything, they looked…satisfied? “Perhaps ‘twas fortunate that I did not follow you after all,” she said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “’Twould have been most awkward to find you eating pie with a wench sitting on your lap. Perhaps if you saw me, you would have lost that cheerful expression that is now on your face.”
Derrik put his hands to his heart. “You wound me, my lady,” he declared. “Why would I need to hear the sweet whispers of a wench when I can have my fill of your acid tongue?” His lips twitched and then he burst out laughing. “If my ears deceive me, I would think that you’re jealous.”
“Me? Jealous?” She placed one hand on her hip while the other hand flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “That is the most ludicrous idea I have ever heard.”
“’Tis only a jest, my lady. I don’t want to start another argument.” He gave her a winning smile. “Can we call a truce?”
Amelie looked at him for a long while, ever mindful of the assistance that she needed from him. “Aye,” she said finally and nodded. “I have been in this inn for far too long,” she sniffed her nose at the sparsely decorated surroundings. “And I am feeling like a caged animal. I wish that morning was already here, and we can go speak to the stable boy.”
Dropping her hand from her hip, she suddenly felt tired. All the fruitless events of the day were starting to catch up with her. The little information that she found, while interesting, proved useless in revealing Lord Stanbury’s whereabouts.
She placed a hand to her brows, slowly massaging the tension there. Now that Derrik was back, she was suddenly hesitant in appealing for his help. Just seeing his handsome face made her body react strangely, and she began to question the wisdom in staying so close to him.
“I want to know something, Sir Derrik,” she said before she could stop herself.
He quirked a quizzical eyebrow at her. “What is it that you want to know?”
“Why do I need your help?” she asked wearily. “I told you that I can take care of myself. I have lived nineteen years — and two months — without a knight to champion me, and I have never come to harm.” Her hands dropped and she fingered the sleeves of her tunic. “Ever since I met you, I have faced danger at every turn. I am beginning to think that perhaps ‘tis you who brings me such bad luck.” She gave him a challenging look, and when he didn’t respond to the accusation, she twisted her mouth into a frown and shook her head. “Forgive me if I do not understand your motives.”
He studied her, and still hadn’t said a thing.
Amelie averted her face, not wanting him to see her frustration. She was weary from her travel, and was ever aware of the hours that were quickly passing by. Ester and Mistress May had vanished. Whether harm had befallen them, or if they disappeared on their own accord, Amelie would never know. She had been attacked not once but twice. And the things that she did discover brought more questions than answers.
“So,” he said softly, “you’re finally asking me for my help, are you?”
“Against my better judgment, aye,” she replied. “For it seems that I am unsuccessful in finding anything on my own.”
“I’ve been assisting you ever since we left the Healer’s cottage,” he said. “There’s no need to ask any further. As you’re well aware, I’m also searching for your father. If he is as innocent as you say, he has nothing to fear from me or the king.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed as if he carried a heavy burden. “In your quest to seek your father, you have become a target. And knowing this, ‘tis not within my conscience to allow anyone to hurt you.”
“I thank you for this, sire,” she said softly.
Derrik inclined his head, and moved toward the little window on the far side of the room. Somehow the room felt stifling. He pushed open the shutters. The rain was still streaming down like a heavy sheet, and the road below was devoid of any man or beast. In the distance, he could hear the faint strains of a lute drifting up to their room. This wasn’t the first time he questioned the wisdom of his involvement. King Edward had asked him to investigate Lord Stanbury. That alone was a simple task, except the lord was missing, and Derrik found himself dangerously embroiled with the lord’s beautiful daughter. Still, he had his duty, and he meant to fulfill it.
“I will have to say though,” he said, turning around to face her. “As you appear closer to finding answers, more danger and difficulties come your way. Why is that?”
“I might have found more answers downstairs.”
He shook his head impatiently. “I don’t know how many times I have to repeat this: questioning random people, or giving them money to answer your queries is futile. As I have said, we’re dealing with high treason, and your father may be involved with dangerous people.” He laced his fingers and placed them on top of his head as he regarded her. “Unfortunately if you offer people money, they will tell you anything you want to hear, even if ‘tis a lie. Then, there is the possibility that your father is guilty. Any person who aids, or gives him comfort will be hanged with a similar noose.” He paused. “Even you.”
Although chilled by his words, Amelie adamantly shook her head. “I told you that my father is innocent. He would never commit an act of treason. I swear it on my life.”
“How well do you really know your father?” he asked. “Are you privy to everything he does?” When Amelie didn’t answer him, he nodded his head. “Your silence says it all. Not many men reveal everything to their womenfolk,” he said gently, “I suspect King Edward would not have sent me to investigate your father if there was no substance to the accusation. I don’t want to see you hurt, but Amelie, you need to face the facts. This disloyalty to the king will not go unpunished. And make no mistake, the perpetrator of this conspiracy will be hanged and quartered.”
The glum look on her face made him feel pity for her. “Come, let us not speak about this any further. ‘Tis clear that it upsets you. We’ll rest now, and tomorrow we’ll go speak to the stable boy.”