Page 50 of The Knight's Pledge
“Are you worried about my sonat all, Lucan?”
“George will be safe with Henry, Effie. He’ll be safe with his uncles.” He paused. “I wouldn’t have lefthim otherwise.”
She knew her eyes widened with surprise, because Lucan grinned and it made herheart flutter.
What was wrong with her tonight?
“We’ll be there soon. You’ll see. I know you don’t trust me—”
“Gorman does,” Effie interrupted.
“And I trust Gorman,” Lucan finished. “So perhaps there is hope for thetwo of us yet.”
The way he’d lumped the pair of them together as ‘two of us’ caused Effie’s heart toflutter again.
“Perhaps there is,” she allowed.
“If you don’t shoot me again.”
Effie smiled, despite the tumultuous feelings swirling like a cyclone inside her. She leaned a bit closer and caught the warm masculine scent of him.
“Don’t tempt me.”
She stood and walked away from him, feeling his gaze on her back the whole of the way.
And still her heart raced.
Chapter 12
Lucan couldn’t stop watching her now.
He knew he was a fool for it, but since the night three days past when Effie Annesley had sat with him around the fire, Lucan seemed to have developed a sixth sense about her proximity to him. He knew what her hair smelled like now, the way the skin on her forehead creased when she worried, the elegant fan of lines at the corners of her eyes when she smiled, the flush of her cheeks when she laughed. He couldn’t recall noticing any of those things on their journeys to and from London, but now, it was as if she’d cast aspell over him.
Or perhaps it was Winnie who’d cast the spell, with those blasted, smelly herbs.
Regardless, Lucan was beginning to wonder if being so long on the road in such dreadful weather was starting to affect his sanity—he now felt a flare of jealousy whenever Gorman touched Effie’s arm, or when Effie leaned in close to Gorman to speak something low in his ear. At night, while the band slept around the dying fire, Lucan couldn’t seem to close his eyes even when it wasn’t his turn to keep watch; he lay there thinking of the years of memories Effie shared with Gorman, how they had made a child and were raising him. How they had gathered such a group about them as to be closer than any family Lucan had ever known, now traipsing across the countryside on a potentially deadly mission and giving little care for the laws of the land. The family hadtheir own laws.
And Lucan wasn’t part of them, not really.
He couldn’t help his mind from going to the After. After they had found Tommy; after they had returned to London. After whatever judgement was handed down. If Lucan was free, who would surround him? Who would be his family? Iris, his closest blood relative, was married now. He had no other—no cousins, aunts, uncles—with whom he could claim a familiar relationship. Even his friend Ulric would be busy with his duties to the king, and they’d never had that sort of close acquaintance any matter. Perhaps he should return to France and seek out his extended relation. If Henry kept Castle Dare from him, it may be his only option.
Start over. Alone.
He’d been so consumed all his life with finding the truth that would lead to his revenge, he’d never stopped to think what his life might look like in the case of success. Who would he rebuild Castle Dare for? What would be left of Northumberland when the dust settled?
He grew more maudlin as the afternoon wore on, and his rocking rear in the saddle caused his lower back to tighten. Clouds gathered overhead, and Lucan thought there would be rain later that night. He would be glad to reach the small village and pass the night there—hopefully in his own chamber where he wouldn’t be forced to watch or hear Effie and Gorman as they carried on with their easy interactions. Edinburgh and then the Firth of Forth lay just beyond the fresh breeze that teased them. Two more days, at most, and Tower Roscraig would be in sight.
A caravan approached them on the road—a wide, tall-sided wagon bracketed by a retinue of rough-looking characters. They took up the whole of the track and so the band divided and eased their mounts off into the rough on either side while they passed. Eight riders—no, ten perhaps. Lucan only paid them passing heed until he realized the rest of his party was watching the travelers with much closer attention.
Lucan glanced at the wagon, draped to cover whatever cargo was contained within. A corner flapped, a flash of pale around a board, a glint in the shadows. The wagon rolled past, and Lucan looked more closely at the men riding behind. They were dirty and mean of face, and made no pretense of acknowledging the courtesy the band had shown them. One man glared openly at Lucan, holding his gaze as they passed, even turning his head to do so as ifin challenge.
Lucan turned his gaze toward Effie, stopped only a few feet from him, but she was looking at Gorman through the swirling dustover the road.
Gorman nodded at her as if in answer to an unasked question, and then called out, “Kit Katey, James; with me to the fore.” Gorman kicked his mount and the three sped away up the rough into the trees, in the direction in which the strange, dark caravan had now disappeared.
“Gilboe and Winnie,” Effie commanded, “wait for us here with Sir Lucan.”
The remainder of the band—Bob, Dana, and Chumley—at once turned their horses’ heads back the waythey had come.
