Page 3 of A Knight in Tarnished Armor

"Warbrooke?"

"Aye." Edith wrung out a corner of a tunic, then added, "He might come to Ardenwood before the month is out."

Morda dropped her paddle and crossed herself, then said in a half-prayer, half-moan, "For the poor Lady Linnet."

"Tch-tch. I know." Edith gave a huge sigh.

Morda shook her head. "Can ye imagine being wedded to such a brute? 'Tis said the king rewarded him because he'd killed a thousand men, and a few women too."

"No!" Edith said in a gasp, then leaned closer, her eyes wide. "Truly? Women?"

"Aye. He killed the women with his bare hands. Huge hands. Hairy hands. Hands the size of boar's haunches. ‘Tis said he crushed the very air from their very breasts." She paused, then said in a loud whisper, "He has cloven feet."

"Like the devil himself?"

"Aye. The very same."

" ‘Tis a good thing Lady Linnet knows naught of this agreement. Poor wee thing, wedded to such. How can the old earl do this to his granddaughter?"

Morda shrugged. "He had no choice. My lord pleaded his case to the king, but the king favors Warbrooke. He forced the earl and baron to meet. The earl claims he couldn't refuse Warbrooke once the king was involved. ‘Twas a matter of loyalty."

"If I were her, I'd run away," Edith said firmly.

"To where?"

"The convent at Saint Lawrence of the Martyrs. Her great-aunt is the abbess. It's the perfect place for succor."

"Lud, that husband of yers has slapped ye in the head once too often."

"He has never hit me," Edith said indignantly. "He knows I'm stronger than he is."

"Then yer wits have gone walking to Wales. No woman can travel so far a distance alone."

"But if I were Lady Linnet, I'd hire my own protector to escort me."

"And just who would that be?" Morda raised her chin and asked in a challenge.

"William de Ros."

Morda's mouth dropped open. "The mercenary?"

"Aye," Edith said smugly. "He devours men like Warbrooke for supper. Then he picks his teeth clean with their bones."

"Ye'd have to travel to Spain to find him. He returned from the last crusade and went off to war with the heathens there."

Edith shook her head. "He's in England." She paused for effect, then said, "At Falcon House Tavern in Watersdowne."

"And just how would she get away even if she could persuade him to be an escort? The earl would come after her."

"My lord's leaving for London again tomorrow. He'll be gone for a week. Surely that's enough time to be safely away."

An odd sound echoed around the stone laundry room.

"Oh!" Morda jumped, then spun around suddenly, her sharp gaze searching. "What was that?"

“It came from there.” Edith pointed at the stone wall. After a moment she shrugged, then went back to stirring her paddle. "Most likely just one of Lady Linnet's cats mousing. I wonder what will happen to all those animals after Warbrooke comes?"

Morda looked at Edith as she lifted a linen shirt from the rinse barrel. With a sharp and fierce twist, she wrung it dry. "That's what will happen."