Page 68 of A Knight’s Vengeance

Elizabeth stared at the implements, and her fury flared. He expected her to dig up weeds and dirty her hands and clothes like a commoner? She glared at him.

An answering gleam heated his gaze. He expected the refusal on the tip of her tongue.

As she stared at him, standing with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, she forced down an indignant scream. The knave wanted her to protest. He hoped she would throw a tantrum and refuse to cooperate, so he could belittle her in front of his men and have the satisfaction of forcing her to his will.

Elizabeth bit back a smug laugh. If he anticipated an easy victory, he was mistaken.

She accepted the billhook, and her graceful fingers curled around the spade’s wooden handle. “Of course, milord.”

Geoffrey’s face pinched as though he chewed a mouthful of pig slop. “What?”

Mildred gasped.

“Sunshine and gentle exercise do wonders for a lady’s figure and complexion. Will there be aught else, Lord de Lanceau?” Elizabeth tilted her face in a gesture of eager compliance.

The rogue looked baffled. His mouth opened, and then snapped shut. “That is all. For now,” he added with a snarl.

She beamed. “Lead the way.”

He stalked past her, his brow creased into a forbidding frown, and Elizabeth smothered a gleeful shout. She flipped her braid over her shoulder and strolled off across the bailey after him, carrying the spade like a foot soldier’s pike.

“Saints preserve us,” Mildred groaned.

Elizabeth followed Geoffrey past the well, the maidservants airing blankets, the blacksmith’s shop and roaring fire, to an area surrounded by a wooden palisade. He yanked open the gate, and the iron hinges creaked with disuse. “The garden.”

She brushed past him. It must have been beautiful once. Now the vegetation grew in such tangled profusion she could not tell bush from vine, or weed from herb. Insects buzzed. A straggling rose bush with spent blooms grew across the stone path that started at the gate and vanished into the undergrowth.

Mildred shuffled to Elizabeth’s side. “By the blessed Virgin,” the matron whispered, mopping her face with her sleeve.

“Which… ah... patch do you wish us to weed, milord?” Elizabeth asked. A wasp hurtled out of the bushes and, shrieking, she flicked it away.

He chuckled. “You misunderstand. I wish you to restore this garden to its original grandeur.”

“All of it?”

“Aye.” He kicked aside a stone with the toe of his boot. “When you are finished, you will tell me what plants and herbs are here and what I need to purchase.”

Mildred’s eyes brightened with interest. “Herbs?”

“A former lord of Branton Keep hired a monk from a local monastery to lay out the garden and stock it with herbs. Some were used for medicines. Others were dried or went straight into the cooking.” Geoffrey’s smile turned wry. “As Lady Elizabeth pointed out at one meal, adding flavor to our food will be an improvement.”

“’Tis a monumental task you give us.” Elizabeth dropped the spade with a clank. “We cannot complete it in one afternoon.”

“I give you two.”

“Two days?” Mildred snorted.

Geoffrey’s eyes glinted like polished silver as he looked at Elizabeth. “Two days.” He turned, walked out into the bailey, and slammed the gate closed behind him.

The matron plopped down on the edge of a crumbling rockery. “Harrumph!”

After retrieving the spade, Elizabeth uprooted a dandelion by her feet. “The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.”

“I am a lady-in-waiting and a healer, not a brawny gardening wench,” Mildred grumbled. “This garden is so overgrown it no doubt harbors all kinds of nasty creatures—spiders, snakes, and red-eyed rodents, to name a few. If you ask me, you are better off apologizing to that rogue for whatever he is annoyed about and saving your strength for our escape.” She frowned and scratched her head. “What is he annoyed about?”

Her cheeks burning, Elizabeth attacked the grass growing between the path stones. Her bruised arm was healing well, and did not twinge with the effort.

She would not fail to meet the rogue’s challenge.