Maid for the Knight (Irvines of Drum Book 3) Read online

  “As do I,” Reginald demanded. “’Tis the verra reason I have been so concerned. Once we leave for London, it will be easier for this man to get to her. There will be fewer men on watch and he will expect as much.”

  “Then ye agree she needs constant protection?” Robert asked with narrowed eyes. Reginald nodded, wondering what his brother was getting at.

  “Didnae I just say that I do?”

  “Good. Then I trust ye with the task. Ye shall be her constant protector. Where she goes, ye go.”

  This was madness. Had Robert lost his wits? “I am going to London. I cannae follow her if I am hundreds of miles away! And dinnae dare to make me stay behind while the rest of ye bargain for our king back!” Matilda was a bonnie lass, aye, and if he was honest with himself, he thought about her more often than he should. Yet those thoughts tended to be more of the salacious sort. He found her witty, humorous, kind, and tough, but he was a nomadic man, a knight who preferred to roam free without attachments. Being tied to a woman was not the lifestyle for him. He fulfilled his needs when the opportunity arose, and then continued with his life never thinking twice about last night’s bedmate, and he would certainly not miss out on an opportunity to aid his country simply to play protector.

  “I would never dream of asking ye to stay behind, Reg. Ye are my best and most trusted man. I ken ye willnae stab me in the back, for ye have no will to be settled with the lairdship,” Robert responded wryly.

  “As glad as I am that ye ken I willnae stab ye in the back, I dinnae ken what ye are suggesting.” The thought of being commanded to watch Matilda’s every move was exciting in a strange way, but not something a knight who is sworn to protect Scotland should be wasting his time with while the fate of their country was at stake.

  “I believe there is something more sinister going on with those missives. I also believe there is something Matilda is not telling us. I trust her. She would never betray us, but something is amiss, and I can see it in her demeanor. It began after the Douglases left our land. The missives arrived and with each one, Matilda withdrew from us even more. I want to ken who is sending them and what they want from her.”

  “Ye arenae asking me to rummage through her belongings, are ye? On my honor, I shall not, Robert.”

  “Nay. Nothing of the sort. I ken ye are close to her. And whether ye admit it or not, I ken ye have feelings for her. I am telling ye that I want ye to become even closer to her. Ye will come with us to London once ye have successfully discovered who those missives are from and what they contain. Be honest if ye must. Assure her ye simply wish for her safety and the safety of others. Ye are to protect her. Stay by her side at all times. Convince her ’tis best for all. If it is simply an admirer, she should not be so concerned with telling ye as much, then ye can be on yer way to London. Consider it yer motivation to gain the knowledge with due haste, so ye dinnae miss out on this mission.”

  “Now, stop right there, Rob. Ye ask too much of me! I dinnae wish to stay behind and woo information out of Matilda! Ask Elizabeth to do that! I am going to London!”

  Narrowing his eyes, Robert growled and slammed a fist down on his desk. Reginald narrowed his in return, but Robert was still his laird and he knew that once his fist hit the rough wooden surface of his desk, his decision was final. “Damn it all, Reg! I expect ye to keep her close and get answers. If someone is trying to harm her, lure her, or use her to hurt my people, I… nay, we have a responsibility to stop it, and I ken well this goes beyond an innocent admirer! The man who sends them may verra well be in London. Dinnae ye wish to seek out the man, or simply allow him to harass our Matilda? Do ye accept yer orders or nay?”

  Nothing irked Reginald more than when his brother had the final say, which was every cursed day. Still, he knew his brother was correct. Something was indeed bothering Matilda and it was more than his jealousy that made him wish to unravel the mystery of the letters. And, if he could discover some of her mysteries in the process, then he would consider it a challenge accepted.

  It was not unusual for them to scheme against others, but for him to scheme against her was somehow exciting yet unnerving. He did very much care for Matilda, and if he was the marrying sort, he would pursue her for a wife. Her station as a maid was of no consequence to him. Matilda was equal in their eyes and raised as a noble alongside Elizabeth and William. She could have had a higher station in life but seemed to punish herself for being an orphan, always demanding to remain a servant to those who would see her raised in society.

  There was no harm in the mission, he decided. He truly did wish to protect her and discover the answers. If he had to show a wee bit more interest in her to do so, never had he seen Matilda shy away from flirtatious banter, and surely she would understand it for what it was and naught more.

  “I accept yer orders, my laird. It shall be done.” Bowing respectfully to his arse of a brother, Reginald turned toward the solar door and walked away, wondering how he was going to convince the most stubborn woman in all of Scotland to reveal her secrets before the men rode out to London.

  Chapter Two

  “Alas, I have never seen a lass who can drink as much as a man and still be as bonnie as ye.”

  Slamming down her tankard, Matilda wiped the foam off her upper lip and flashed a prideful smile at Eadan from the other side of the table. “Then I fear ye have not met enough lassies,” she retorted, pushing her hair away from her face. The room was warm from the heat of crushed bodies and burning flames, and she could feel the sweat trickling down between her breasts beneath her tight bodice.

  “That is where ye are incorrect, Miss. I am the messenger for the Laird of Drum, dinnae ye forget. ’Tis my verra duty to travel to many lands, where I am often offered to stay and dine with the clan. I vow I have met many women and none could ever be ye, Tilda.”

  Biting her lower lip, Matilda searched Eadan’s green eyes and saw the truth within. He meant what he said. With his wee dimples and dark blond hair, he was a fair looking lad. But that’s all he felt like to Matilda. A lad, not a man. Though, with the ale running through her veins and the relief of having finally told Elizabeth the contents of the missives, Matilda was feeling more her usual self, wishing for mischief. She was not at all certain if the words scrawled across those pieces of parchment were founded in truth, but Matilda never planned on finding out. She was pleased with her lot here as a maid where she earned her keep by day and did as she pleased by night. She was no noble-born lady, nor did she ever wish to be. Having watched Elizabeth be pawned off from one man to another was truly disheartening. It may have worked out well for her companion, but most women were not so fortunate as to find true love with their arranged marriages. Matilda would never need to worry about such things. If love came her way, she would embrace it, but never would she be forced to wed any man.

  “What is it ye are thinking of now, my bonnie lass?” Eadan said, picking up her free hand and bringing it slowly to his lips, his eyes boring into hers. Feeling another set of eyes on her, Matilda looked up and saw William at the head table staring at her. It was a clear warning to behave herself as if she were capable of such a thing. She was still a maiden and would remain that way until she either wed or decided marriage was not an option. But that did not mean she could not enjoy the attentions of a handsome lad now and again. What was life if not for a wee bit of flirtation?

  Shifting her gaze once again, she saw Reginald seated beside Marjorie Douglas at the high table, his eyes on her, his mouth set in a frown. It was clear enough from this distance that Marjorie was attempting to gain his attention, but it was also clear he had it all focused on her. What was not at all certain was why Reginald had been treating her like a wee sister he needed to guard at all times, but something about the look in his eyes made a rebellion bloom in her bones. William could give her that look all he wanted, for he had grown up beside her and was the only brother she had ever known. But, Reginald was not her brother, father, or husband. He was not even her kin. More than once, she had seen Reginald disappear with another lass down a dark corridor to do untold things. Who was he to judge her for simply allowing a young man to show her some attention?

  That rebellious spark grew into a blazing fire. Tearing her eyes away from the high table, Matilda looked at Eadan and smirked and signaled him to move closer. “I am thinking I wish to ken what those lips feel like upon my own,” she softly whispered so only he could hear her.

  “Oh?” he replied, sounding truly surprised by her words, and she nodded, pushing herself up from the bench. The room was crowded and voices drifted to her ears from every direction. Marjorie’s nasally voice could somehow be recognized above the din, and Matilda was not certain if it was only because the lass irritated her with her constant attentions put on Reginald, or if she simply had a distinctive tone.

  “Meet me behind the large oak tree in the garden in ten minutes. Dinnae come any sooner. I dinnae wish for everyone to ken ye are following me. And ’tis but a kiss Eadan Irvine, and naught more,” she warned.

  “Of course, Tilda. Ye ken I care about ye. I would be a fool and a liar to say I didnae wish for more, but I would never press myself upon ye unless ye wished it.” Accepting his answer, Matilda swished her long, red curls over her shoulder, tightening her Keith plaid around her shoulders before walking through the hall with her head down to avoid catching sight of anyone else. After the nightly meal, Matilda always went behind the screens to help in the kitchens, even though it was not required of her. Only this time, she would continue walking through to the back door leading to the garden.

  The early spring night was frigid and made her yelp the moment she set foot through the door, pulling her plaid closer to her body. It was completely dark outside but for the glow of the moon and th
e flickering of candles that could still be seen from within the castle. What had she been thinking? Ten minutes was much too long to stand alone beneath a tree at night while the wild winds swept through her hair and chilled her flesh. Mayhap a kiss from Eadan, though enthralling to think about, was not worth the chill she may catch while awaiting it. But she had made her decision and would stand by it, remembering the frown on Reginald’s face. He was a fine companion, but recently he had grown overly concerned about her very being, and though she enjoyed his attention, he certainly had given it to many other lassies, as well. She knew better than to believe he had any true interest in her.

  The delicate sound of boots gliding through the wet grass came from behind and Matilda froze, irked that Eadan had not waited the full ten minutes, but grateful not to have to wait out in the cold any longer for what now seemed like a ridiculous idea.

  “Matilda?” His voice was deeper than she expected and, somehow, he sounded almost angry.

  “Ye didnae wait as long as I asked…” Turning around, her smile faded as she found herself staring at a very familiar chest. She had seen it in a tunic, with a surcoat, a jerkin, and most admirably, nothing at all while he practiced on the lists. “Reg?” Her plaid slipped off her shoulders when she craned her neck to look up at him, and she couldn’t tell if the gooseflesh creeping up her arms was due to the frigid air or his hot gaze. When his eyes scanned her face just before flicking down to her heaving breasts, it did not go unnoticed.

  Pulling the plaid around herself once more, Matilda shoved a curl away from her face again and straightened her spine. “What are ye doing here? Is everything all right?”

  “Ye tell me. Is it?” His brow creased and he took a step closer.

  “Aye.”

  “Aye?” he repeated, and she nodded.

  “Why are ye here, Reg?” Matilda scanned the area behind him, wondering if Eadan was on his way, but the rise of his brow told her that Reginald knew precisely who she had been waiting for, and it was not him.

  “Do ye wish I was someone else?” That question had a million different meanings and, for the life of her, Matilda did not know what to say to such a thing. Would she prefer to kiss Reginald beneath the oak tree? Her heart knew the answer, as did her entire body. Yet, her words would say otherwise.

  “Do ye?” she responded, turning his question back onto him. Did he wish to be the man she had arranged to meet with? Staring at each other in silence for a drawn-out moment, she wondered what he was thinking, her mind reeling with possibilities.

  “I quite like who I am,” he murmured, stepping closer once more. She stepped back, but stopped when she felt the rough bark of the oak’s trunk digging into her backside. “And I am no lad who must sneak away to kiss a beautiful woman. If I wish to, I shall do it where I stand.”

  “Oh?” Another statement she could not quite decipher. What was happening? “I ken that well, Reg. I have seen it on many occasions. Not all of us can afford to be so brazen. Not all of us are highborn noblemen who can do anything we please. Now, why have ye followed me?” She did not like the direction of this interaction. They usually had a light banter between them. Laughter, jesting, and scheming were their usual activities. What this was, she could not say. But standing so close to him, alone, beneath a tree at night, made all manner of images run through her mind.

  “I need to speak with ye about those missives ye have been receiving bearing the Douglas seal.”

  Feeling her face go ashen, Matilda cringed and felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. He was not here for any other reason than to pry into her private business, something he had no right to do.

  “What do ye wish to ken? And be quick about it. As ye can see, I have other ways to spend my evening.”

  His brow rose once more in that way she usually quite favored, but not when it was used against her, addling her wits. “Is that so? Well, this could take but a moment, or it could last until the next full moon. ’Tis up to ye. Who writes those missives, and what do they contain?”

  “A bold question from a man who has enough secrets of his own.” Matilda placed her hands on his chest, attempting to push him away, yet he remained rooted in place as the cursed tree dug into her spine.

  “So ye admit that ye hold secrets?”

  “What?” Her gaze shifted up to the top of the tree, seeing every gnarly branch and leaf hanging above her head like a canopy of greens and browns, moonlight filtering through the cracks. It was a beautiful sight, yet still not one as enticing as his crystal blue gaze. Looking back at him, she crossed her arms and straightened her spine. “I dinnae like this side of ye, Reginald Irvine. I daresay ye sound like a jealous fool, though I dinnae ken why.”

  Making a sudden choking sound, an incredulous look contorted his face. Stepping closer, he filled the small space that had stood between them. “Jealousy is not in my nature, Tilda.” His gaze wandered down her face, landing on the expanse of her long neck before flicking once more to the tops of her breasts pushing against her bodice as she breathed heavily. Her knees felt shaky enough to give way beneath her. “Now… lust is something else altogether. But, jealousy?” He shook his head and licked his lips, lids lowering as if he wished to be the man to kiss her beneath the tree and, suddenly, she desperately wished it were so.

  “Who are they from?” he asked again slowly, making her snap out of her haze and huff in frustration. He did not wish to kiss her. He wished to seduce her into telling her what he wished to know. Well, she would not allow him to play her like a puppet.

  “They are from my lover. Does that make ye happy to hear?”

  Shaking his head once more, Reginald lifted a finger and dragged it slowly down her cheek. “Ye tell lies now, Tilda. If ye had a lover ardent enough to write to ye every month, ye wouldnae be here now, awaiting Eadan… unless ye are more wanton that ye appear.”

  Gritting her teeth, Matilda felt the sting of his words. Not because he was insulting her, but because he knew her well enough to know the truth of his words. Matilda was as loyal as a woman could get, and Reginald knew that. Still, she would not, could not, betray the contents of those missives, for it would be a betrayal of all that she ever hoped to be… or not to be.

  “Then I suppose ye dinnae ken me as well as ye believe, Sir Reginald, for I speak the truth.” It made her stomach quiver to tell lies that only served to defame her character, yet it was better than the truth. “Do ye not believe that I am capable of taking a lover? Why is that so verra shocking?”

  Matilda heard the sound of someone walking through the wet grass and knew Eadan was approaching. She wished to look, but Reginald’s large frame blocked the entire view behind him. All she could see was the dark sky above and a few bright stars gleaming through the drifting wall of clouds. Reginald did not take his eyes off Matilda, nor did he seem affected by the approach of another man. “Tonight is not yer night, Eadan. Matilda is otherwise occupied,” Reginald said in his steady, calm tone, eyes boring into hers, daring her to deny his words.

  Gasping, Matilda smacked him in the arm but was met only with firm muscle and resistance. “How dare ye attempt to control me?” she whispered so only he could hear.

  “Are ye well, Tilda?” Eadan asked. “Is this the truth? Shall I leave ye?”

  Looking Reginald in the face, she saw the warning flash in his eyes and she sighed, resignation flowing through her. She had no desire to kiss Eadan anymore, and the ale that had so recently loosened her mind had now been washed away with both the wind and her mortification.

  “Aye. Please go, Eadan.” There was a drawn-out moment of silence before she heard his steps retreating toward the kitchen’s back entrance.

  “Do I believe ye incapable of taking a lover, Tilda? Nay, I dinnae. I am certain ye could have any man ye wished for. Am I attempting to control ye? Nay. I am protecting ye, as my laird requested. I am afraid ye are bound to me until I have answers.”

  Something akin to hurt flooded her veins. He was only here on Robert’s orders? He did not care otherwise for her or what she did. And why should he? They were frivolous companions, and naught more. The thought of Robert putting Reginald on her scent was disturbing. They knew something about the missives and would not give up until they discovered the truth. But the truth was more than anyone would ever expect and could lead to the potential removal of Matilda from their lands. To be separated from Elizabeth and all she knew terrified her, for she had nowhere else to go but back to Keith lands, where she would be well cared for, but certainly even more exposed to her truth.