Dragon's Knight, page 10
In spite of her lack of enthusiasm for this place and for what had occurred between Jarrod and that woman, Aislynn spoke up before Ulrick could. “Pray have no concern for me. I am contented enough with the room.” She did not wish to give Jarrod any reason to think she was causing difficulty.
He did not acknowledge her acquiescence other than with a brief bow. He addressed Sir Ulrick. “I will trust you to attend your lady until my return.”
Aislynn stepped into his path without even pausing to think. “You are not going to leave me—us—here?”
He frowned. “I am simply going to roam about the market. There I intend to ask directions to Ashcroft.”
She did not want to plead with him, but neither did she wish to remain here with that woman for hours—in that dark little room. “The day is still young and I will not trouble you. I…only wish to be out for a few hours, to see the town.” Jarrod frowned, looking to Ulrick.
The older knight said, “I will see my lady is kept safe whilst we are about. You need not worry on that score.”
The frown deepened as his gaze came to rest on hers. Aislynn met him with silent entreaty. Jarrod gave one sharp nod. “Very well then. You may come. But you will mind yourself and stay by Ulrick’s side.”
Aislynn’s relief was mixed with resentment. Resentment that was due to his obvious reluctance. Not to mention his speaking to her as if she were a child. He had certainly not treated her like a child when he’d…
Aislynn stopped herself right there. She did not wish to think on what had happened, not even for a moment.
Jarrod sighed. “We’d do well to get on with it then.”
Ulrick looked to Aislynn and she nodded. They followed as Jarrod moved again to leave.
Their hostess was not to be seen in the public room below. Of that Aislynn was not sorry.
In spite of all that had occurred, Aislynn felt a trace of excitement return as she followed Jarrod back out into the street. She was also buoyed by the protective bulk of Ulrick’s supportive presence just behind her.
Other than to use his wide shoulders as a mark to guide her, Aislynn ignored the man in front of her. The sights, the sounds, the smells of the busy market kept her head swiveling from one side to the other as they passed through the busy throng. First her attention was taken by a young family, father, mother, children, all dressed in their finest as they strolled about the market. Then it was captured by a group of young men, talking and laughing loudly as they drank openly from large wooden tankards. Then her gaze fixed on the open windows of a smiling merchant’s booth, more wares displayed for sale than she had ever dreamed of.
The scents of breads and roasting meat that rose from some of the booths left her mouth watering, for it had been days since she had smelled anything so inviting. She watched intently as two young boys ate roasted fowl from their fingers. It was not until Jarrod swung around to scowl at her from some distance ahead that she realized her steps had slowed too greatly.
Hurriedly she rushed to catch up to him. “Forgive me, Sir Jarrod. I was but looking at something.”
Before he could say anything in reply, Sir Ulrick spoke up. “I believe my lady is hungry. As I am, my lord. It has been many hours since we stopped to eat this day.”
Jarrod’s scowl deepened and he looked down at her. Quickly Aislynn said, “Pray have no concern for me. I told you I would be no bother and I will not. I will eat when you are ready.”
At that moment a hint of breeze wafted the smell of spiced meats over her again. Traitorously, her stomach gave a growl. Not a loud one, but loud enough for Jarrod Maxwell to take note.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, obviously searching for patience. “We will eat.”
Aislynn bristled, raising her nose to a sharp angle. “I am not hungry. Let us go on.”
With a noise of impatience, Jarrod Maxwell took her by the arm and turned her back toward the booth from whence those heavenly scents had arisen. Though Aislynn desperately wanted to resist him, there was no hope for such rebellion. The knight was far too strong and too arrogant to heed her wishes.
Ulrick said not a word, but his step was eager.
In no time at all, Aislynn was holding a steaming piece of chicken. Though, unlike the two lads she had seen only moments before, hers was wrapped in a clean scrap of fabric the merchant had found at Jarrod’s insistence.
She soon held a piece of fritter in the other hand, the scent of cinnamon making her stomach growl anew. As they moved on in the crowd to eat their feast, Aislynn was aware that Jarrod also seemed quite intent on devouring his food. As was she for some minutes.
But when her hunger began to ease, Aislynn realized that Jarrod had finished his own meal and had begun to stop and chat with some of the folk they passed along the way.
She simply followed, now nibbling delicately at the sweet bread, making it last, as she had the ones Margaret had made when she was a child. As Jarrod stopped to talk to a man at one of the booths, Aislynn became aware of an odd prickling along the back of her neck. Frowning, she turned and saw a man. He stood on the far side of the booth at which they were now waiting for Jarrod.
Aislynn looked at him more closely. His dress and bearing marked him a knight. He was a compelling figure, to be sure, in his enveloping cloak the gray of deep shadows, and dark coloring, which was most striking because of his intense gray gaze. But it was the fact that he was watching Jarrod Maxwell with animosity that held her attention. His narrowed eyes seemed to move between Jarrod’s face and the area of his shoulder with equal heat.
She looked to Jarrod. She could see naught that might be of note but the dragon brooch, which held his cloak in place. She frowned thoughtfully.
For his part, Jarrod had clearly taken no heed of the man. He was conversing most intently with the merchant.
Chapter Seven
Jarrod had not wished to take Aislynn with him to the market. It was impossible to deny the longing in those lovely blue eyes. He suspected Aislynn did not wish to be left at the inn with Sadona. His face still burned as he recalled the way Sadona had kissed him and the condemnation in Aislynn’s gaze.
He had found himself wanting to tell her that it was all perfectly innocent. Sadona was wed to one of the soldiers who had been with them in the Holy Land for many years, a man Jarrod called friend. But he realized that to explain the situation would be to imply that it was Aislynn’s concern who kissed him.
It was not. He was to see to her well-being, and nothing more. He was free to kiss whom he would.
As long as that was not Aislynn.
Yet as they had made their way through the crowded streets, he could not help being moved by Aislynn’s fascination and delight in everything around them. He noted the yearning glances she cast at the food.
Jarrod was filled with chagrin. They had traveled the whole of the morning, not stopping as he had pressed on to arrive in the market town early in the day. The scents of roasting meat had made his stomach grumble to be filled.
As they’d eaten he’d risked a glance at her and seen the relish with which she licked the warm bits of apple from the tips of her slender fingers. He’d experienced an immediate tightening in his loins. She had done naught to attract him in any overt way. She was simply being herself, seemingly oblivious to him as she gazed about them, her blue eyes wide with interest, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The problem lay in the fact that her ingenuousness was one of the very things that seemed to draw him to her.
Desperate to distract himself, Jarrod paused at a booth they were passing. The man inside came forward eagerly, his gaze taking in their fine garments in spite of their layer of grime. Jarrod nodded. “I wonder if you might spare a moment. I am seeking a village called Ashcroft. I was wondering if you might have heard of it.”
The fellow shook his head as he rubbed at his short gray beard. “Nay, it does not have a familiar sound.”
Jarrod shrugged. “Would you know of anyone who might? I was told that it may lie in Scotland.”
The fellow looked up, his brown eyes brightening. “I can tell you who might know of this place. The potter, Wibert, has traveled in the north. He may be able to tell you how to get to this Ashcroft.”
It was not much, but Jarrod felt a rise of hope. “Can you tell me where I might find him?”
The merchant nodded, pointing off to the left. “He is in the next to the last stall.”
Jarrod bowed. “You have my thanks, sir.”
The man shrugged. “Your thanks are well met.”
With that Jarrod turned back to Ulrick and Aislynn. He noted that Aislynn seemed as if her thoughts had drifted far away. He tried not to take advantage of her distraction by letting his gaze linger on her face. But he could not help noting that the juices from the cooked apples had left a sheen on her lips. Lips that tasted like…
Roughly he called himself to order.
He said abruptly, “We go on now.” He swung around and started forward….
Straight into the path of another man, their bodies connecting with unexpected force. The contact was jarring, but Jarrod stepped back immediately and met the other’s gray eyes. “Your pardon, sir.”
The other man, who was clearly a knight by his dress and manner, stared back at Jarrod with cold anger. “And pray why should I accept your pardon?”
Surprise made Jarrod’s brows raise. He had not expected such a reply to his apology and chafed at the delay in getting on with his quest. At the same time he was not completely shocked at this reaction. There were those, who, as fighting men, had grown accustomed to conflict and searched it out at all times.
Even more than was usual for him, the frustration of the past days had left Jarrod with an itch to give vent to some action. Yet he was responsible for Aislynn’s well-being and that was of far greater import than any impulse to give this fellow a taste of his blade.
He tried to diffuse the situation, reminding himself that there was no need to prove his own manhood by taking offence from such a one. “Then do not accept my apology, though it be given wholeheartedly. I will take myself from your proximity so as not to cause you further insult.”
He started forward and the man moved to block his path. “Methinks not, my lord. For the insult you have already inflicted is cause enough.”
Now Jarrod really looked at the man. He felt a rise of anger that was more compelling than his aggravation, but dampened it by reminding himself that he could not jeopardize Aislynn’s safety in any way. And fighting in the streets with a hot head was surely doing just that.
From behind them came the sound of a voice. “Someone call for the sheriff!”
Jarrod turned to see it was the man he had just been speaking with. Again the merchant cried out, “Call for the sheriff, I say.”
Two knights brawling in the streets would definitely be bad for business and they had begun to attract the attention of others, who were giving them a wide berth. Jarrod swung back around to tell his antagonist that he could ill afford the time spent on becoming involved in a legal difficulty.
The man was gone. Disappeared without a word or sign of his direction. Jarrod was as surprised by the fellow’s behavior as before. But he was also grateful. He spun to face Aislynn, taking her by the arm. “Come.”
She did come and without hesitation. The speed of her steps easily matched his own ground-eating strides.
It was not until they were out of earshot of the scene, that he drew Aislynn to an abrupt halt. Immediately she swung around to face him, glancing about with obvious agitation. “Why are we stopping here?”
Jarrod found himself speaking more harshly than he intended, addressing the knight rather than Aislynn. “Ulrick, I would have you take your lady back to our lodging now. I will join you shortly.”
Jarrod looked at Aislynn as she issued a short hiss of exasperation. Her fair brow puckered as she looked up at him. “But you can not…”
He heaved a heavy sigh, holding up a forestalling hand. “I cannot risk another such interchange as that with you in my keeping. And I would try to get something accomplished ere dark.”
“But Jarrod, there is something you must know…”
He looked at her pleadingly, trying to make her understand that he needed her to cooperate in this. “Aside from not having to worry about your safety I will be more able to move about quickly on my own. And you must realize that your father would be horrified if he knew what had just occurred, what could have happened.”
Ulrick spoke up. “He is right, my lady. Anyone wishing you harm must first pass through me, but it is wrong to risk such a thing.”
Jarrod had no doubt that the powerful knight would indeed be formidable in protecting his mistress. Yet Ulrick saw there was no gain in seeking out such difficulty.
Aislynn shook her head, scowling at both of them. “I will not be moved from this spot lest the two of you listen to me for one moment.”
Jarrod would humor her in this. But only for a moment. He did wish to get on with his purpose. He nodded sharply. “Speak on then.”
Aislynn took a step toward him, her gaze now pleading. “That man, the one who attempted to engage you in a fight, he had been watching you in the crowd some time before and must have placed himself in your path deliberately.”
Jarrod frowned. “Why would he be watching me, Aislynn?”
She shook her head, her gaze puzzled as well as troubled. “I know not. I can only tell you that he was and he seemed very intent on the dragon brooch you wear.”
“Intent on the dragon?” Jarrod raised a hand to run it over the piece.
She glared at him. “Aye. I do not believe this can be such a shock to you after what just happened.”
Jarrod sighed. “The man could have no particular interest in me, or my brooch. There can only be two others like it in all the kingdom. And Christian and Simon wear them. I have never laid eyes upon the fellow and find it impossible to believe that either of them would have.” He looked at her. “Did you recognize the man, or even find him vaguely familiar?”
She scowled, shaking her head, though it was with obvious reluctance.
Jarrod continued, “The three of us have only been back in England for less than a year. Simon has been at Avington when he was not being held at Dragon-wick. Christian has been with you at Bransbury when he was not with me. Few people in England would know us as adults. That the man would have recognized me makes no sense.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, clearly searching for patience. “Yet he did do so.”
Jarrod shrugged, wanting nothing more than to get on with what he had to do. “I can fathom no reason for that, Aislynn.” His tone became soothing. “Beyond that, it behooves us to put this incident behind us. He is gone now and can do no harm, for we do not mean to remain in this vicinity.”
Aislynn looked to Ulrick. “Can you not make him see reason?”
Ulrick shrugged his wide shoulders, though his gray eyes were understanding. “Sir Jarrod must certainly have a care for himself, my lady. But he speaks true. What could be done now if the man did mean him ill? He is gone and we wish to continue our journey in the morning.”
Aislynn continued to stare at Ulrick, who looked down at the ground. She then glared directly into Jarrod’s eyes. “Then neither of you will heed me in this.”
He shrugged again. “It is not a question of that. We simply see no reason to believe there is undue cause for concern.”
Without another word to either of them, she turned and stalked back the way they had come. Ulrick did not hesitate, but went after her.
Jarrod sighed again.
He didn’t want to think that he might have hurt Aislynn, or that he had reacted too harshly. Aislynn had only been showing concern for him. Her concern was, in a way that was unfamiliar to him, strangely moving. Surely he could have…
Roughly Jarrod shook his head. He had important matters to attend. He simply had to put her and her opinion of him from his mind.
Yet as he strode through the crowded street his sense of regret, as well as an unexplainable ache of loneliness, would not be denied.
Aislynn wanted to stamp her feet in frustration. Jarrod Maxwell was, without doubt, the most onerous man in the kingdom.
’Twould surely serve him right if the strange and malevolent knight did mean him ill.
But the very thought left her feeling weak and physically ill. She suddenly knew that Jarrod’s safety was all that mattered in this, in spite of the fact that he had so little care for it.
As soon as they reached the safety of her chamber at their place of lodging, she swung around and commanded, “Sir Ulrick, I wish for you to return to the market and learn what you can of that man. Though there is a great crowd there this day, a nobleman’s presence is always of note to the common folk. Someone will know his name or something about him.”
“I can not leave you alone, my lady.”
No more than Aislynn was reluctant to bide her time in this small chamber alone. Even the thought that she might see the shameless Sadona could not deter her from her purpose. “You can. And you will.”
She moved to the door and motioned for Ulrich to follow her as she pointed. “You see. There is a strong bolt upon the door. I will use it. And I swear upon my mother’s memory that I will not leave or allow anyone but you or that dratted Sir Jarrod to enter.”
She paused for a moment, then added, “Except for ‘that woman’ or one of her servants. For I mean for you to inform them that I am ready for my bath.” Aislynn was not truly concerned with bathing now, but it would give her something to pass the time whilst she waited for word from her father’s knight.
Ulrick, who had frowned at her disparagement of Sir Jarrod, looked far from pleased. “Sir Jarrod is like to be angry with both of us.”
Aislynn raised her nose to a forty-five-degree angle. “Pray let him be thusly. I care not what he thinks.” Yet in spite of her hauteur, even she could hear the fear in her voice as she went on, “I do care that he is not harmed. Not in attempting to do us a kindness. And mark me, Ulrick, that man does mean him harm. Mayhap learning who he is will help me to convince Jarrod that there is some danger.”
