Free Once a Bride by Shari Anton Page A

tried to strike a bargain for his cooperation.
    Worse, after he eased her down onto the bed, she’d sensed his lust. Fully prepared for him to lower down atop her, she’d felt no fear, only strange, tingling sensations thrumming through her entire being.
    ’Twas most bothersome to admit she’d not uttered one word in protest or raised a finger in defense. Inexcusable.
    To Roland’s credit, he’d won his struggle for control by remembering his role as her protector. This morn she was counting on that same strong sense of duty, on his honor as a knight, to render her indiscretion harmless. She never should have told him of her concerns about Kenworth’s intentions toward her father.
    Eloise glanced around the hall, noting the unusual lack of people gathered at the trestle tables to break their fast. Of Lelleford’s knights, only Simon was present. She cringed at the sight of two guards garbed in the earl’s livery standing near the door, but neither Kenworth nor Roland was about.
    Relieved, but confused, she slid onto the bench next to Simon. He looked tired, likely from having his sleep disturbed before taking his turn guarding her door last night, which didn’t make sense to her. Shouldn’t Kenworth’s knights act as her guards? Befuddling.
    “Where is everyone?”
    Simon swallowed a mouthful of pottage. “Kenworth paced the hall until the first ray of dawn. He is so sure of his trackers he wanted to be with the patrol when they find Sir John. Some of our knights are with him, others are out with St. Marten, hunting for Brother Walter.”
    Another mystery. Where the devil could the monk have gone off to, and why did he hide? She silently wished Roland good fortune, hoped he met with success before Kenworth returned. She had a few questions for the monk.
    “I am surprised Kenworth allowed our knights to leave the hall.”
    “Kenworth fears we will conspire if left alone together too long. We are all held hostage to the others’ good behavior.” He raised an eyebrow. “Yours, too. I beg you, milady, to restrain yourself.”
    As she hadn’t last eve, he meant.
    Since Kenworth hadn’t burst into her bedchamber, she assumed Simon had given the earl some explanation of why several people tramped around in the passageway lugging buckets of water. Another point she must concede to Roland—had she stood outside the chamber and smelled smoke, she’d have raised an alarm just as he had done.
    Given the results of her impetuous actions, she should have waited until this morning to destroy the scroll, tossed it into the flames of the hearth. Then Roland wouldn’t know her father was in the area, couldn’t betray him to Kenworth.
    “Have you spoken with Roland this morn?”
    Simon tossed his pewter spoon in the now empty wooden bowl and shoved it aside. Just above a whisper, he answered, “He told me of the message, which he destroyed. ’Tis fortunate for us he felt no compulsion to give it to the earl.”
    The knots in her stomach eased somewhat. Roland’s stance on the matter brought no sense of triumph, only a bit of relief.
    “ ’Twould seem he is not as interested in my father’s capture as in fulfilling his duty to the king.”
    Simon nodded. “His duty lies with us.”
    ’Twas reassuring, but that didn’t mean the situation had changed. Roland was still the invader, and she still inwardly railed against his royally granted authority over her home.
    Knowing she could do nothing for the nonce, she moved on to her next concern. “Simon, is there a way to enter the castle except through the main or postern gates?”
    Simon rubbed at his chin. “I thought not, but am beginning to believe there must be. Roland says you found the message on your bed when you went up to your chamber after evening meal, long after Kenworth ordered the gates closed and heavily guarded.”
    “I assume Edgar snuck in somehow and placed it in my bedchamber, but cannot discern how he did so.”
    “ ’Tis a puzzle.” Simon