Page 35 of Knight School Chronicles Box Set

“ W elcome to Ashcroft Manor.”

Earlier that day, Evelina had been told a new recruit would be coming for supper, and she was to help prepare to welcome them. What she hadn’t been told was that the new recruit was a woman.

There was just one other woman at Castle Blackwood, and Evelina had admired Lady Elara from the moment she arrived.

Wishing very much to be as useful as the strategist, Evelina had begged her father to inquire on her behalf to make such a thing possible.

Though he agreed she was a student of history, her knowledge of England’s battles as keen as anyone’s, he never truly considered her request.

But Sir Eamon had, and now Evelina knew why.

Unfortunately, it was one of the only fights she could remember between her father—Lord Ashcroft—and Sir Eamon. The former forbade the latter to get permission for Evelina to instruct at the school.

Now, looking back, she found it curious the two men were cordial with each other at all.

A woman, about her age, stood before her. And a beautiful one at that. Evelina had never met someone with such strikingly red hair, an almost unnatural shade.

Sir Eamon introduced them.

“Mistress Lyra, this is Lord Ashcroft and his daughter, Lady Evelina.”

“I am very pleased to meet you both,” she said, her voice liltingly soft. “Sir Eamon tells me you are a financier for the knight school?”

“We do not discuss such things openly,” he answered, though it was not quite true. If Lady Lyra was a man, he would have much more to say.

“I see,” she responded, looking at Evelina. Did she imagine Lady Lyra’s slight smile? It was gone so quickly, Evelina could not be certain. “Do tell me what you are able,” she said, offering her arm to Evelina’s father—Lord Ashcroft. Would she ever be accustomed to thinking of him in such a way?

As he escorted her into the hall, Sir Eamon offered Evelina his arm, which she took.

“Are you well?” he asked, concern etched on his face. She’d not seen him since that day at the stables, and Evelina had been glad for this evening as an opportunity to do so.

“As well as can be,” she said, walking slowly, “given the circumstances.”

“He will return,” Sir Eamon, her father, said. “And we will find a way. I’d not see you repeat the misery your mother found,” he whispered, “in an arranged marriage. Especially with one such as Sir Gareth in the wings. This I promise you.”

They stopped. Evelina looked into her father’s eyes. “I was angry,” she said. “Very angry. And wish you had told me sooner.”

“I am sorry,” he began, but Evelina stopped him.

“You’ve no need to apologize to me. You did what you thought best for me and clearly care for me. ’Tis enough.”

“I do not care for you, Evie. I love you and always have.”

She could not, would not, cry.

“I cannot keep it from him forever. Even now, ’tis so difficult to do so. And Amalia too.”

“You can tell her soon enough. Once Gareth returns, I will arrange for us all to meet so that we can discuss your future. I may be your father, but Lord Ashcroft is your legal guardian. We must tread lightly.”

She nodded and they began to move forward once again. Thankfully, Lord Ashcroft was engaged in a conversation with Lady Lyra and did not notice her and Eamon.

“She is quite beautiful.”

“And skilled, both as an archer and healer.”

“Another archer.” She smiled. “Will Sir Darien be threatened by the competition? And a woman?”

“I do not believe he is the sort to be so. But the kind of tactics used by our order make archers some of the most sought-after. We are lucky to welcome her to our ranks. She learned the trade from her father, also extremely skilled, and he was most reluctant to allow her to come.”

“Why did you not recruit him instead?”

“He was injured years ago and cannot walk without the aid of a walking stick.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” she said, just as they sat.

“We discussed your father,” Eamon said to Lady Lyra. “I was telling Lady Evelina that he is quite skilled.”

A serving maid filled each of their goblets with wine.

“Indeed, he is. Our village is just on the outskirts of Sherwood Forest. My father and I spent many days among the trees, which served as our foes in my training.”

“Oh, my lady,” Evelina exclaimed. “What a wondrous thing to have been trained with the bow and arrow among the trees of your home.”

“Wondrous, indeed, as I was the only girl allowed to do so.”

Evelina avoided looking at Lord Ashcroft, who always forbade her to train with any weapon.

“Though I am no lady. My father was a forester, my mother a healer. They are not noble, in title at least.”

Evelina had been so distracted she had missed Eamon’s introduction.

“Apologies,” she said, though Lyra did not seem bothered.

“It is most kind of you to welcome me here. Can you tell me more,” Lyra said to Eamon, “about what I can expect at Castle Blackwood?”

As Eamon did just that, Evelina peered at him—Lord Ashcroft. If he thought it ironic that Lyra would live in a place Evelina was forbidden to even visit, he did not give as much away.

“Is something amiss, Evie?”

All three of her companions looked at her.

Aye, something was amiss.

The man she loved could be in grave danger even as they sat here, sharing a meal.

Her father was not her father, and probably never cared for her, which was why he treated her akin to one of their servants.

And her actual father could not claim her as such, despite that he clearly loved her more than the man who raised her.

Of course, he’d not done much of the actual raising.

Between her wet nurse—a woman who later became Evelina’s de facto mother until, like her real mother, she left Ashcroft Manor—and her tutors and the staff at Ashcroft, he was not present for much of her raising.

“Nothing is amiss,” she lied. “Please do continue, Sir Eamon. I’m most interested in the comings and goings at Castle Blackwood as well.”

Eamon understood her meaning well enough.

With a slight frown, he continued sharing information that Evelina knew already.

About the grounds and the knight school’s instruction.

About some of the missions that were not as secret as the Guardians would like, ones all in this region were aware of, knowing that without them Matilda’s cause would have been lost already.

He was partway through explaining one particular mission, a tale Evelina had heard many times, when their steward cleared his throat from the entrance to the hall.

“Pardon, my lord, we have a visitor.”

Was it Lord Stirling? Often both he and Eamon brought new recruits together, and she’d almost asked earlier where the master archer was this eve.

But it was not Lord Stirling.

Gareth stood in the hall’s entrance. Battle weary, clearly, but alive. Evelina so wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him. As it was, her body felt as if it were one with the bench. She could not move. Could not breathe.

He was alive. And standing in their hall.

Eamon caught her gaze and shook his head slightly, but Evelina did not have to be told. Their reunion would have to wait. Instead, she sat there looking at him as if only mildly curious.

“Sir Gareth,” Eamon exclaimed. “You are back with the others?”

“I am, sir. And was told you were here. There is news. If I may enter, Lord Ashcroft?”

“Of course, come and join us.”

“I thank you for the offer but must be back at Castle Blackwood. Lord Stirling wishes to speak with me. If I could have a word with Sir Eamon, briefly?”

He didn’t want to dine with them? Evelina tried not to feel hurt, though it was difficult. He was alive, and uninjured, and yet she could not express her relief.

Her love.

“Of course,” Sir Eamon said.

He walked out to meet him, and just as quickly as he appeared, Gareth disappeared with Eamon into the corridor. She attempted to concentrate on the conversation before her but had difficulty doing so even with Lyra’s presence. The woman was fascinating, someone she could easily befriend.

But Gareth was here.

When Eamon returned, he gave away nothing. It wasn’t until the meal was done and the men walked her and Lyra from the hall that she had another moment to speak to him.

“He is waiting in the stables,” Eamon whispered.

“But he said he had to return to the castle?”

“A likely tale, but not completely true. Go to him. I will occupy your...”

“Lord Ashcroft,” she provided. “’Tis how I see him now. I’ve but one father.”

The look he gave her was one that Evelina had dreamed of seeing on her father’s face since she was a child. It was one of pure love and affection.

“Go,” he whispered.

She nodded. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said to Lyra. “Father, I would retire. My head...” She rubbed her temple. “If you will pardon me.”

“Of course,” Lyra said. “A pleasure to meet you as well. I hope you are feeling well soon, my lady.”

“Many thanks.” She offered a quiet bob of curtsy to the group and then made toward her chambers. Except, before she reached the circular stairwell, Evelina slipped down a corridor and toward the kitchens.

Making her way outside, and into the courtyard, wishing she’d worn a darker-colored gown, Evelina all but ran to the stables.

Entering them, not having taken a lantern with her, she was glad to see Gareth had.

Following the light toward the back of the stable, wondering where the stable hand had gone off to, she turned a corner.

And ran directly into his chest.

Evelina did not hesitate. She tossed her arms around him and vowed never to let go.