Page 35 of King’s Knight

Before Alex could answer, Rory and Guy rode up. “What happened?” asked Guy.

“I felled a deer,” she informed him.

“And drew the interest of the king who wishes the page he now knows as ‘Merry’ to join the feast tonight.”

Rory let out a whistle.

Guy’s frown joined Alex’s. “Oh, that does pose a problem.”

Merewyn surveyed the faces of the three men, her gaze finally resting upon Alex. He ran his fingers through his long black hair. “Just so,” he said.

Dropping from his stallion, he helped her remount and fixed her bow and arrows behind her. He was displeased, but why?

Alex lifted himself into his saddle. “Now I must decide if ’tis better for her to remain as my page and hope the king’s interest wanes with his other diversions or have her dress as a lady and ward off the lust of the king’s men. Either way, ’twill be an onerous evening.”

Merewyn disliked being discussed as if she were not there. “I fail to understand how that is your decision, Alex. Besides, while I first thought to go as your page, if I am to join your lady mother and Earl Renaud in the king’s hall, I will be expected to wear a gown.”

“She has the right of it,” said Rory, nodding his head. “My mother would expect the same of my sisters.”

“So be it,” said Alex with a look of resignation. “I will wear my sword should it be required. You may have brought us much trouble, my lady.”

She could hardly see how women were responsible for the lust of the king’s men. After all, there was nothing remarkable in her or her attire. All ladies wore similar gowns.

“ ’Twill at least be an interesting evening,” said Rory.

“Best we not consume much wine,” cautioned Alex. “Come, let us find my father and yours, Guy, and see if the hunt continues. If not, we should make our way back to London.”

On their return, Alex rode beside her, his eyes straight ahead, his face expressionless. She knew he worried over the king’s notice of her. “How did you choose the name you gave the king?”

“I just took the first name that came to me.”

“ ’Tis odd you picked that one. It is the name I was called in Wales.”

CHAPTER 7

Icy fingers of dread crept over Alex as he slowly descended the stairs of their London manor that evening and beheld Merewyn, standing beside his mother. The two of them were richly gowned for the evening.

The violet silk Merewyn had worn on his first night home again made her appear the ethereal creature. Gone was the page that had felled a red hart with his bow. Before him stood a beautiful young woman, her flaxen hair plaited on the sides and pulled back from her face. The rest of it spilled down her back, a waterfall of liquid gold. He had the urge to run his fingers through the long strands, but then he reminded himself he was still angry with her for insisting on joining the hunt.

Her skillful shot had brought about an awkward state of affairs. Dressed as a lady, she might be safe from the king, but she would not be safe from his brother, Robert—known to have sired several bastards—or every other rogue in the hall. At one time, Alex would have been one of those knights who sought her favors if she was a woman who freely gave them. Now he must protect her against his fellow knights, or worse, some nobleman of his father’s rank.

Maugris had warned him of temptation that called for honor and courage needed in the face of fear. Tonight he would certainly need courage and his wits as he battled other men tempted by Merewyn’s beauty. Was that what Maugris had seen?

His father stepped away from the others to join Alex at the foot of the stairs. “You seem to have taken an interest in my ward.”

Still watching Merewyn, Alex said, “I worry for her in that den of debauchery we enter tonight.”

“You have never worried for a lady’s virtue before. Why Merewyn’s?”

“I feel very protective of her.”

His father’s gray eyes narrowed on him. “The last time I looked at a woman the way you are looking at Merewyn, it was your mother.”

Alex’s brows drew together as he pondered his father’s words. He compared the two women standing on the other side of the room, one a younger version of the other. “Do you think they are much alike?”

His father shifted his gaze to his wife and his ward. “Aye, I suppose they are. Both are unusual for their sex. Your mother used to hunt for Maggie, though not from the back of a horse. It was through her archery skills I found her hiding among the servants.”

Alex recalled the story. “She smiles about it now.”