Knight of Deceit (Knights of Passion Series 2) Read Free Page A

down. It was impossible. Sir Walter thought she was Margaret and if Margaret did decide to go with him then Maven would still be sent south with Isobel. Her fate would remain the same.
    “I must return,” she said. “Stay here until I am safe back at the camp. We must not be seen together.”
    He let her go and although she did not turn as she hurried through the trees, Maven felt his gaze upon her back. Once she was safely out of sight she removed the ring and slipped it back into her pocket. Soon she heard the sounds of the princesses’ train and hurried quickly to the litter. As she’d expected Margaret was seated inside.
    “You took your time,” she said sharply. Her eyes were narrowed, suspicious, but Maven shrugged as if there was nothing amiss.
    “He was overly eager,” she said. “I had trouble dissuading him from running off there and then.”
    Margaret considered this and then she s miled, as if Sir Walter’s eagerness had been for her. “Did he say he would meet with you again?”
    “Tonight, my lady.”
    “’Tis risky.”
    “He said he would bribe your guards.”
    “Well.” Again Margaret appeared flattered. “Tonight shall be the final time, Maven. You will tell him you have decided to go south after all and take your chances with the English royal court.”
    Maven felt her heart sink. Her body was still singing from her encounter in the woods and the last thing she wanted to do was end her trysts. She bowed her head so Margaret couldn’t read her eyes. “Very well, my lady.”
    Margaret didn’t seem to notice her less than enthusiastic response. She was already considering her own future and Maven was sure it did not contain any thought of her maid in waiting and half sister. Maven was just a warm body to use when she needed a spy but there were plenty more warm bodies, and she told herself that if she was gone then Margaret would soon forget her.
    As the train prepared once more to take to the road south, she reminded herself that she’d known the ending to this story all along. And yet there was something hot and bright, burning inside her. A wilfulness she had never felt before. A determination to take her own chance at happiness, no matter how foolish and dangerous it might seem.
    Maven was considering escape . For a moment her heart pounded in her chest and her breath caught in her throat. Could she really run away? Not with Sir Walter, that was impossible, but what if she were to use him? Travel a little way north before striking out on her own. Sir Walter would be angry, of course, but she would wait until he was asleep and then . . .
    Maven shook her head. She was a young woman with little money and little power and she doubted she would get very far. Sir Walter would send his men to bring her back and punish her, and alone and friendless Maven would have no choice but to comply.
    It isn’t fair, she thought to herself, tears stinging her eyes, but when had it ever been? If only she could find a way of turning the situation to her advantage. Of escaping Margaret and Walter and finding happiness with Barlow.
    *
    It was evening and they were accommodated in a house in a town, given over to them by the local provost—or more likely appropriated by King John’s man, an officious gentleman called Sir Leonard. Maven had been waiting nervously for the message from Sir Walter, and when the door opened she looked up expectantly.
    Her heart gave a flutter. It was Barlow. His face was set in sober lines, his eyes downcast, as he presented the folded paper to the princess. Then as he stood waiting to be dismissed, he shot a single glance across the room at Maven. It was enough. His dark eyes burned for her. Margaret, who had barely noticed him, waved a hand to send him on his way.
    “Sir Walter will be here at midnight,” Margaret announced, crumpling the note in her hand and tossing it into the fire.
    Maven had turned to watch from the second story window. She wasn’t disappointed.