Page 23 of Retribution

“King Edward’s knight.”

“And the other man? He wished to take you as hostage?”

“I can only assume so,” Cleodora said, trying to be as succinct as possible because it was anyone’s guess which way Cambridge’s temperament would go. He was already displeased that she’d spoken to a stranger, so she could only pray that that was the extent of it. “When he threatened me, Sir Aidric put himself in great danger to protect me. There were other robbers because we could hear fighting in the other rooms of the shop, so Sir Aidric sought to remove me immediately and take me to safety. He took me to a tavern on the next street, put me in a room with a lock on the door, and then went to find Neville. It was very brave of him, my lord. He could have just as easily left me to the mercy of the robbers, but he did not.”

She finished the tale, watching Cambridge’s face, waiting for him to either decide she’d done something wrong or be sympathetic to the situation. His gaze hovered on her; he surely knew the apprehension she was feeling. He seemed to feed off it in some twisted way, something he’d always done with her. When he thought she’d suffered long enough, he finally reacted.

“If Sir Aidric serves the king, then he is an elite knight,” he said. “Of course he would protect you. That is what the knighthood is sworn to do, to protect the weak. Did you at least thank him?”

Cleodora nodded firmly. “I did, my lord, many times,” she said. “I also thanked him on your behalf. I hope that was not wrong of me, to assume that you should want to thank him also.”

Cambridge shook his head. “It was not wrong,” he said. “It was not wrong of you at all. I am grateful that he saved your life.”

Cleodora was relieved at his response, but she wasn’t entirely off her guard because the man could turn in an instant. She’d seen it before.

“May I tell you what he said to me about appearing in public, my lord?” she said.

“By all means.”

“He told me that I must not wear dresses with jewels sewn onto them, as they attract thieves,” she said. “He said it was not safe for me to do so.”

Cambridge shrugged. “I am certain he is correct, but it is important that you display your station,” he said. “Next time you go out, Neville will never leave your side. It was wrong of you not to keep him with you at all times.”

Here comes the rebuke, she thought. Demurely, she lowered her head. “It will not happen again, my lord, I promise,” she said. “But I did manage to bring back the garment that I will wear to tomorrow at the feast. When Neville fetched me from the inn, he took me back to Adelie’s and I was given the dress.”

“Good,” Cambridge said. “I look forward to seeing you wear it tomorrow.”

“I hope it is to your liking, my lord.”

“I have faith that it will be,” he said. Then, he lifted a hand to wave her off. “You may go now. Be ready to depart tomorrow at the nooning hour for Westminster. And… and, mayhap, you will introduce me to this knight who saved your life if, in fact, he is a member of Edward’s guard. I am certain they will be at the feast, so if he was truthful when he told you who he was, we shall know for certain tomorrow.”

Cleodora was already on her feet. “I look forward to it, my lord.”

She dipped into a polite curtsy before swiftly departing the hall. Cambridge watched her go even as he shoved more food into his mouth, a fine piece of beef that was stuffed with stewed onions. As servants moved in and out of the hall, making sure his wine cup was full and more food was brought to the table, Cambridge caught sight of Langford as the man stood over on the edge of the hall, watching Cleodora’s departure just as Cambridge had been doing. He’d heard the entire conversation.

Cambridge motioned to the man.

“From what Neville said about the incident at Adelie’s, I am surprised to see Lady Cleodora without a scratch,” Langford said, picking up the wine decanter down the table and bringing it to bear on Cambridge’s cup. “I half expected to see her physically battered and emotionally overwrought. That must have been a terrifying ordeal.”

“Indeed,” Cambridge said, chewing loudly. “But that is not what interests me.”

“Her ordeal does not interest you?”

Cambridge shook his head. “It was not an ordeal as much as it was a potential opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what, my lord?”

Cambridge looked at him. “Did you not hear who saved her from thieves?” he said. “A royal knight. Edward’s knight.”

“I heard, my lord. What about it?”

Cambridge swallowed the bite in his mouth before taking a big gulp of the ruby-red liquid in his cup. As the wine coursed down his throat, he wiped his mouth thoughtfully.

“What did I say to you earlier?” he said quietly. “She is a tool. My tool.”

“She is, my lord.”

“And she has just made the acquaintance of Edward’s bodyguard.”