“You’ve gained yourself a disciple,” Rafe said. “Goswin looks at you as if you’re the sun.”
She smiled sadly. “He’s lonely. He lost the family he had left, and now he clings to the first kindness someone offers. He’ll heal in time. Children are very hardy. They can endure so much more than we think.”
Rafe wondered if she was speaking of her own childhood, so abruptly ended with an early marriage and motherhood.
“You let him think we’re married,” he said next.
“It seemed simpler,” she replied. “He has enough on his mind. If ever we need to explain the true situation to him, we can. But why complicate things further?”
Why indeed, especially because the current misunderstanding meant that Goswin wouldn’t raise any questions about Rafe staying with Angelet every night. Which he definitely intended to do.
Assuming that she still wanted Rafe near her. Depending on how much she overheard, she might want to keep him at arm’s length.
“About what he said…” Rafe began.
“Don’t let it concern you,” said Angelet. “He was devastated by the loss of his brother, and he looked for someone to blame.”
“I was to blame.” Rafe had given the young man some money, and the young man was promptly killed for those same coins. Even when Rafe tried to do good, it ended badly.
“You were not! It’s just like the attack on the cortège. The only ones to blame were those who snuck up on unsuspecting people with the intent to murder them. It’s not as if you’ve ever tried to kill a man for the purpose of taking what was his!”
Rafe winced. Angelet’s blithe reassurance did nothing for him, because it hovered too close to the truth. If she ever found out what he did, all her confidence in him would evaporate.
“It doesn’t matter. Goswin will think what he likes,” Rafe muttered.
“He’ll come around once he gets to know you,” she said. “You’ll be a good example for him.”
“What a terrible idea.” Rafe was a good example for no one.
“Oh, I just had another idea. Goswin should be your page.”
“What?”
“You need one,” she insisted. “You do the work of a page in addition to your own, and there’s no reason for it. Why else do you have to pay stable boys to watch over your armor and such? Teach Goswin what he needs to know.”
Rafe sighed. “This is an order, isn’t it?”
“It’s a gentle recommendation,” said Angelet, with the pleased smile of a person who has just won an argument.
“All right, I’ll teach him what a page does, though he’s only going to be around until I can find a safe place to drop him off. But no more arranging people’s lives, my lady. We’ve got enough to worry about.”
She nodded, satisfied. Rafe almost laughed out loud in spite of himself. For someone whowas never in a position of power, Angelet showed a natural aptitude for it. She had a dignity and grace that attracted attention, and she knew just how to wield her influence.
If only he was the sort of man Angelet thought he was. Rafe would disappoint her in the end, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. In fact, he wasn’t looking forward to the day he’d have to leave her. But it would come soon enough, and if he was lucky, it would happen before she knew the facts of his true nature.
As they traveled onward, Rafe realized he had another, more practical problem. Somehow, though he’d been aiming to go directly south, they’d been forced somewhat to the southwest, and now they weren’t just skirting the edge of Shropshire…they were well inside the northern borders of the shire. Exactly what he didn’t want. It was as if his inner demons drew him along all the roads he meant to avoid.
Still, if they traveled quickly and kept to themselves, it was a manageable problem. Perhaps Goswin could even be useful here.
They came to another village in the late afternoon, called Dunfield. Rafe knew the name, though it was far enough from Cleobury that he had never come this way, and no one would know him by sight. He hoped.
Once they rode into the courtyard of the large inn, Rafe quickly made arrangements for a night’s room and board. Then he returned to where Angelet and Goswin waited. The two were deep in conversation, and a casual observer would mistake them for mother and son.
“Goswin,” he called. “Come here.”
“What do you want?” The boy sounded sullen, but he walked over.
“Listen, after you get your supper, you’re to sleep in the stables. There’s a loft for the inn’s stable boys, with extra pallets for the pages of guests. I’ve paid for it already—don’t let any of the boys try to make more coin off you.”
