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

Barlow stepped from the door into the street and looked up; they stared at each other he reached into his pocket and held something up, something that glinted in the fading light.
    A ring! Gold and heavy, and probably with mysterious markings. Similar to the one Master Keevil had given Margaret.
    Maven gasped, understanding that it had not been Sir Walter in her bed. In her arms. No wonder she had felt so conflicted when she was with him. Barlow had taken his master’s place, just as she had taken Margaret’s. They were both mere pawns. Master Keevil’s amusement was because he knew what was afoot. And now their tryst tonight would be their very last, forever. Unless they did something—something so dangerous and so daring she could hardly think of it without shuddering.
    “ Maven?” Margaret’s voice was harsh.
    Maven spun around, facing back into the room. “I’m sorry, my lady. I-I was distracted.”
    Impatiently Margaret waved her hand. “You must make Sir Walter understand this is your final meeting. At the same time you must not cause him any insult—who knows if I may still need him. I-I haven’t quite made up my mind, so you must walk a fine line, Maven. But I am sure you are clever enough to find a way.”
    Maven tried not to smile. “Yes, my lady,” she said softly and all the time she was thinking: Barlow, I am meeting Barlow.
    However Margaret wasn’t finished. “You are clever, Maven. I have always thought so. And you have been loyal to me. When we reach England I will see that you are rewarded.”
    Surprised, Maven met the princess’s blue eyes, so like her own. “Serving you is its own reward, my lady.” The lie tripped off her tongue.
    “But there must be something you wish for,” Margaret said a little impatiently.
    Barlow and a life away from you, Maven thought instantly. “Perhaps you will grant me the wish of no longer asking me to lie with men I do not love,” she said daringly, and held her breath as she waited for a response.
    Margaret smiled. “Love? What is love to you, Maven? Is there a man with whom you are smitten?”
    “And if there is, my lady? Would you grant me leave to stay in Scotland, to be with him?”
    She laughed. “But you are so good at learning the secrets of the men you take to your bed,” she retorted with careless cruelty. “No, I cannot grant you that wish, Maven. Think of another.”
    But Maven did not answer and Margaret had lost interest. She was already planning ahead, considering her options. England and a noble husband or elope with Sir Walter and stay in Scotland. At least, thought Maven bitterly, her half sister had a choice.
    *
    It was late when he came. Across the roof and through the window, silent and clothed in black, standing in her small chamber with rain like diamonds in his hair.
    The cloak she ’d wrapped around herself was all covering, but she felt as if she were naked before him. Her loose hair lay about her shoulders but of course she was wearing the magician’s ring so he saw Margaret and not Maven. Just as she saw Sir Walter and not Barlow.
    However she knew the truth now.
    He reached for her and suddenly she was in his arms. “Barlow?” she whispered against his lips.
    He smiled. When he held up his hand, she saw the same ring on his finger as was on hers. “You knew before I showed you, didn’t you?” he said.
    “I saw Sir Walter but I felt you. Your hair, your skin, your kisses. Somehow I sensed something was amiss.”
    “It was the same for me, Maven. I saw Princess Margaret but when I touched you I knew it was you. But I was already aware that your mistress would never take the risk of meeting with Sir Walter, just as he would never meet with her. They are well suited, those two. They use others in their plots and do not care who might be hurt, as long as it is not them.”
    “So this game they were playing, all the time they knew?” Maven cried, ang ry and hurt. “They were like puppeteers pulling our