A hot shiver spread over her.
“Start again.” Muscle rippled across his chest and belly. A trial of hair disappeared beneath the low-slung band of his chausses.
Beatrice drew a shuddering breath. She was making a mess of this, but it was hard to think when he stood there virtually unclothed. “My sister came to the castle yesterday.”
“Your sister?”
The door creaked and she jumped. Anybody could be about. “Aye, Faye, she is escaping from her husband.”
Garrett raised a brow.
“Calder is conspiring with the king to bring charges against my father. They say he has stolen money, but it is not true.” Beatrice reached for him, to impress on him the truth of her words. Her hands touched bare chest.
His muscle jumped beneath her palm.
She lost track of her purpose for a fascinated moment.
“Beatrice?”
“Aye.” Her story. She had come to get Garrett’s help. “My father would never steal from the king. I know he would not. But my father is in London.” His skin was warm and firm, like iron sheathed in silk. Part of her wanted to linger there and let her fingers explore.
“And?”
“And Faye’s husband will attack Anglesea because Henry does not have enough men.”
“What does this have to do with you being here?” His long fingers fastened about the strange, little pouch at his neck.
“My mother is ill, and she must not be worried by any of this. Godfrey says the country needs my father. But we need him too, Garret. Henry will do nothing. So I need to get to my father and tell him what has happened, before it is too late.”
“Beatrice, this is not making any sense.” Garrett clasped her hands and frowned. “I do not understand it all.”
She hadn’t prepared for Garrett’s refusal. He’d always said he’d do anything for her. However, if Garrett refused to take her, it would all be for naught. From the far side of the forge a voice rose in question, another answered. She best make haste before some well-meaning soul discovered her and sent her home. “I heard my uncle and my brother, Henry, talking with my sister. She has come to Anglesea with her boys because her husband is in league with the king. They are accusing my father of having used his position as sheriff to steal money from the king.
“Did he?” His finger tightened on the pouch.
“Of course not. He would never do such a thing.”
“Of course he wouldn’t.” Was that anger in Garrett’s voice? Beatrice peered into his face.
Garrett straightened and shoved his hands into his rope belt. “So Calder?”
“Aye.” She must have imagined it. “Calder used to be a good husband, but Faye says he has changed. He threatened to take her children away from her. So she came to Anglesea. To warn us and to keep her boy’s safe. But now that she is there, Henry says Calder has the perfect excuse to lay siege. The king will support Calder, because he fears my father.”
“The king fears your father?” His lip curled.
There was the anger again, in the sharpness of his tone and the cold, dark of his eyes. “Garrett?”
“Beatrice, the king.”
“Indeed.” The wind carried the stench of burnt metal from the forge. The trees rustled, startling her. “My father has become too powerful and the other barons listen to him. Unless we pay or my father answers the charges, we could lose everything. Everything, Garrett.” She leaned forward to stress her point. “And my mother is ill. We do not want her bothered with any of this. Henry will not go to London because my father is needed there, but I think he is needed here more. So, that is why I must go. Only, I do not know the way to London. But you do, which is when I thought of you.”
“Does your family know what you plan?”
“Nay.” Beatrice shook her head so hard her braid knocked against her back. “If anyone knew, they would try to stop me.”
* * * *
Garrett almost laughed aloud. He couldn’t have dreamed up such an ideal situation had he tried. The sod from last night had known this would happen. Garrett had made up his mind no force on earth would get him to conspire with the whoreson. But this. He had her.
Sir Arthur could rot for all he cared. And he would. The justice of it flowed hot and sweet through him. Arthur rendered nothing, with no castle and no fortune. Betrayed by the king whom he’d served so well. His family ruined. Let noble, bloody Sir Arthur see how quickly the other barons turned their backs on one in trouble. He fingered the pouch about his neck. He would see his mother avenged.
Beatrice stared at him, her eyes large and imploring.
Garrett wanted to throw back his head and crow his triumph to the moon. His blood surged. It was pitifully easy. “Beatrice.” He knew better than to mistake her innocence for stupidity. “London is a long way away. And it is a dangerous journey. You cannot ask me to knowingly put you in harm’s way. I would die first.”
“I know.” She fidgeted, shifting her weight. “But you are the only one who can help us…me.”
“What if your brother comes after you?” He pretended to give the matter grave thought. “He would run me through for being within a hair of you.”
“We can travel fast,” she assured him. “No one will discover I am gone until after the keep breaks its fast. By that time, we can have put a lot of distance between them and us.”
He let the silence draw out long and tense between them.
A dog barked and she jumped. “I am not sure Henry will stop me. My father left him with only enough men for defense. Henry cannot risk being short of swords if Calder should come and he is sure Calder will come.”
He heaved a sigh and let her ferment.
“Please, Garrett.” She moved closer to him. “There is nobody else to whom I can turn.”
“You ask much, sweeting.”
“I know.” She pressed her hands against his chest.
Lower. His skin prickled beneath her hand.
“What would you have of me in return?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” he declared valiantly. He almost made his gut churn with his performance. “You need only ask.”
“Oh, Garrett.” Moisture glistened in the depths of her huge eyes.
A heaping of gratitude was all he needed to serve her up to him. “Beatrice”—he stroked her cheek—“you know I can deny you nothing.”
“You will do it?”
“I will do it.”
She released a long breath. Her smile near blinded him. “Thank you, Garrett. You will not regret this.”
Nay. Garrett turned to dress. He would not regret this one jot.
“Make haste,” Beatrice said. “I will meet you at the edge of the village.”
Garrett hurried to meet Beatrice.
A tall form emerged from the dark.
Garrett stilled. The cur was back. He balanced on the balls of his feet. He wouldn’t find it as easy to take Garrett this time. People had mocked him when he wanted to train as a knight, but there were other ways of fighting. Garrett made it his business to be good at those.
“At last.” Beatrice waved Garrett forward. “I want to be far away from Anglesea before first light.”
This