Page 14

She re-entered and made eye contact with the man. “There’s a storeroom downstairs. below ground. If you open it, there might still be some flour, some old loaves.”

The man looked. She pointed to where, and he fumbled, looking for the trap door opening.

“Bronwyn, let’s go,” Theobold said at her shoulder.

“But we could bring something back—”

“Now.” His voice held a note of finality, and she listened to it. He meant business. “We’ve stayed long enough.”

“All right.” She turned and followed him out into the light.

Once outside the bakery, she breathed in the air, letting the early-morning rays fall on her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed but did not feel comforted. When she opened her eyes, Theobold was watching her.

“I’m ready,” she said.

He had tied the horse’s reins to a post outside the bakery and helped her climb into the stirrup and atop the saddle again. Once they were both safely on, he asked, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

She shrugged. “I think so.”

“Did you see your family?”

“No. They’re gone. There’s nothing there for me now.”

He nodded, made a noise to the mare, and touched her sides gently with his heels. The mare started to move, and they rode, with Theobold leaving Bronwyn to her thoughts.

“Why did you want to go? We could have looked for some spare flour. There might’ve been some in the storeroom,” she said, feeling slight comfort in his arms around her and his solid presence at her back.

He shook his head, a motion she felt against the back of her head, almost as if his chin touched her hair.

“I didn’t like that place. No offense, but that’s no longer a bakery or a home.

It’s where people are sheltering for the winter, and you took a risk going in there.

If someone had attacked you, I could have rescued you, but I wouldn’t want to fight against so many people. There were too many.”

“They weren’t fighters. Just men and women who were hungry.”

“Hunger makes people do dangerous things, Bronwyn. I hope you never have to see that.”

They exited the city and once outside the gates, Bronwyn took a deep breath. She felt hollow, tired, and rejuvenated slightly.

“You all right?” he asked at her shoulder.

“Yes. I feel better now. At least now I know they’re gone. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“What will you do now?”

She shrugged. “I guess I’ll stay on with the empress’s camp. I wanted a bit of adventure since my pa and I first got involved with the castle, but it’s been danger ever since. Not quite what I thought my life would be like.”

“Would you return to them?” he asked. “I mean, if you could turn back time, and none of this would have happened. Would you stay there with them in the bakery if it meant a life with no adventure?”

“No. I wouldn’t know what I know now, and I’d still be wanting to get away and see a bit of the world. I used to think that going out of Lincoln would be a big change, but now I think I might have been wrong about that.”

“The world can seem very big and very small at the same time.”

“You’re a poet. Like a minstrel.” She leaned closer to him.

He laughed. “As long as you don’t call me a ‘fool,’ we’ll get on fine.”

They returned to the camp. As he pulled the horse over to one of the lines of the creatures tied together for safety, he tossed the reins to a stableboy and climbed down.

Theobold waited a second, then as Bronwyn began to dismount, he took her by the waist and lifted her from the horse, setting her on the ground.

“Thank you.” She shivered.

“You’re cold. Here, take my cloak.” He untied his cloak and put it around her shoulders.

She felt comforted at the gesture but shook her head. “I can’t—it’s far too big for me. I’ll trip over it.” She laughed and handed it back.

“Then I’ll just have to find you one that fits.”

Their eyes met, and he smiled. His black curls shone in the early morning sun.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to stay with us.”

“You are?”

“Of course. Who else would I have to tease?” He lowered his hands from her waist and nodded. “Till we meet again, Mistress Bronwyn.” He gave her a courtly bow and waved, walking away. “Call on me whenever you fancy a ride on horseback.”

She clapped a hand to her cheeks, which felt overly warm. Was she blushing? No. It wasn’t possible. It was her body’s reaction to the cold chill of the morning, surely.

She walked and immediately felt sore muscles ache in her legs. She rubbed her thighs, trying to ease the muscles to relax.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rupert’s voice came from behind her. “I saw you two ride off together. Did he try anything with you?”

“Rupert.” She shaded her eyes from the morning light. “What are you talking about?”

“You. Him. What are you doing spending time with Theobold? Don’t you know he’s close to the empress? He’s not someone you want to dally with. What were you doing together, anyway? Did he promise you a romantic ride on horseback?” His eyes were sharp, his mouth firm with disapproval.

Bronwyn’s eyes narrowed and she squared up to him. “No, he didn’t. He was helping me.”

“With what?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he took me into the city to visit my family’s bakery. I wanted to see if they were still there, or still alive.”

They stood close now. Too close for courtly propriety. You could slide a piece of parchment between them, she surmised. Not that it mattered.

His eyes bored into hers. “I don’t like you seeing him. You should be more careful.”

“Why? What do you care with whom I spend time? You ought not to care at all,” she challenged. He wanted to be with Alice, didn’t he?

“You’re right, I don’t care. I just don’t like seeing a smart woman like you make foolish decisions.”

They stood inches apart. She had to crane her neck up to glare into his eyes, and she felt her chest lightly brush against him. He stiffened at the touch. Rupert glared back at her, and then to her surprise, his gaze darted to her lips.

What did that mean? He repeated the action. This time, she could not ignore it.

“Bronwyn, I…” he started.

“Yes?”

She breathed in, when a voice called out, “Mistress Baker! My lady wants some bread rolls now for her breakfast. For some reason, she asks you deliver them yourself, so make yourself presentable.”

A young, broad-shouldered woman with long, thick, brown hair; a round, doughy face and chin; and darting eyes that narrowed at the sight of her appeared in front of her. The Lady Morwenna, if Bronwyn remembered correctly from Lady Eleanor.

This young woman spelled trouble, Bronwyn knew within a second. How, she didn’t know. She just knew it in her gut.

Lady Morwenna’s face was unmistakable, as was the way her eyes danced with delight. “I do hope I’m not interrupting.”

Rupert stepped back. “No, you’re not.”

Bronwyn turned to Lady Morwenna. “I’ll go. Excuse me.” She did not bow, simply marching away toward the cooking tents.

Lady Morwenna caught up to her. “My, my, what was that all about? If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was about to kiss you.”

“You’re wrong. We were arguing.”

“If that’s what you call arguing, I’d love to see more. Where can I find a knight like that who’ll argue with me?”

Bronwyn shook her head, her blond braid flying over her shoulder. “He’s not a knight. He’s a squire.”

“Is he? What a pity. Very well. I’m sure he’ll become a knight soon. I know the type, you see.”

“What do you mean?”

Lady Morwenna fluffed her thick, brown hair, so dark, it was almost black.

“Well, my family happens to be a major supporter of the empress. We own hundreds of acres in Kent, not far from Leeds Castle. We also are patrons of young men who show promise to the crown and prove their worth in battle. Everyone who is anyone wants my family’s patronage,” she said with a self-satisfied smile.

Bronwyn raised an eyebrow. Why did this young woman care about Bronwyn and Rupert?

“That’s nice.”

“Yes, it is. But then I don’t expect you to understand.

You’ve probably never had a patron in your life.

We only take the best, so I don’t imagine our paths would ever cross.

But all the same, you would be wise to be good to me.

You don’t want me as your enemy.” Lady Morwenna faced her, standing in her path.

“And please address me properly. Lady Morwenna .”

Bronwyn ducked her head. “Lady Morwenna.” Something about this young woman sent an eerie prickling between her shoulder blades. She smelled like trouble.

“Good. It seems you know your place. Don’t cross me and we’ll get along just fine.” She tossed her hair and with her nose in the air, swept away, her skirts in her hands as she walked with her shoulders back.

Bronwyn watched her go.

“Don’t mind her. Lady Alice was talking you up to the empress, and Lady Morwenna felt threatened. She’s the empress’s favorite.”

Bronwyn turned. There stood another of the empress’s ladies-in-waiting.

This one was plump with dark-auburn hair and a rosy hue to her cheeks, with a smattering of freckles across her nose.

She smiled at Bronwyn. “You probably don’t remember me.

I’m Lady Susanna. I don’t like to put on airs like the other ladies do. ”

“I’m Bronwyn.” She paused. “Just Bronwyn.”

“I can see that. Your dress is clearly homespun and you’re wearing an apron. You’re a servant, yes?”

Bronwyn nodded. “I’m Bronwyn Blakenhale. I’m a baker by trade, from Lincoln. My family…”

“Oh, yes. Were you in the battle? Did you see the king fall?”

“I was there, but not at the fighting.” Bronwyn’s shoulders slumped as she thought of visiting her family’s bakery with Theobold. “They’re gone.”

“Your family? Where are they now?” Lady Susanna tilted her head.

“I don’t know. Theobold took me to see, but—”

“Oh, don’t mention him. You shouldn’t even talk to him.” Her lips pressed together in a slight frown.

“What do you mean? Why?” Bronwyn’s brow wrinkled. “I thought he was popular amongst the women at camp.”