Page 28 of Warrior’s Lady

Pink streaks of dawn mixed with yellow and red, filling the sky with color. A sense of peacefulness settled over him.

Until he saw the tracks.

Marring the newly fallen snow, were two sets of footprints, one leading away from the castle, the other returning. The bishop's spy? Camden moved down the battlements, closer to the tracks, wondering where they had originated. He needed to know that information before he followed where they went.

On the north wall of the castle, the wind picked up and the flurries of snow forced him to slow his steps. He proceeded with as much haste as he dared.

Then he saw the rope. A thick jute rope encircled one of the crenellations, to dangle down the entire length of the castle's outer wall. He picked the rope up, the coarse texture prickly against the flat of his palm. The rope, while sturdy, was not strong enough to support the weight of many of his warriors.

His thoughts drifted to Rhiannon once more. Had she left the castle during the night to meet with the bishop somewhere? Was the light behind her door a decoy to make him think she was within the room while she'd been engaged elsewhere?

He drew his sword and slashed easily through the coarse fibers, sending the rope plummeting down into the snow. He would not make it easy for whoever had used the rope to do so again.

He sheathed his weapon, then headed for his keep. This constant doubt about Rhiannon had to end. An inner turmoil had consumed him since the moment she'd stepped inside his home. He'd never felt anything like this before, alternating between revulsion and desire.

Camden scowled at the scenery he had moments before found breathtaking. He had to find a way to resolve his feelings and put an end to his doubts.

One way or another, he would have his answers this very day.

Rhiannon led Violet belowstairs and into the great hall for their morning meal. Her two hulking companions would not deter her from her plans. She had nothing to hide from Lord Lockhart.

This morning, she wanted Violet to familiarize herself with the castle and its people. She hoped they would be more accepting of the little girl than they had been of Rhiannon.

She seated the girl at the head table, thankful the lord and master of the castle was nowhere in sight, then went to dish them each a bowl of boiled oats and cream. She sweetened Violet's with honey before returning to the table.

"Mistress Rhiannon, why is everyone staring at me?" Violet asked as she hunched down in her chair, conscious of the gazes upon her.

Those gazes were most likely directed at Rhiannon and filled with the same repugnance she had received yesterday. Rhiannon straighten her shoulders. Violet need not suffer because of her. "Because you are the lady of a great castle, these people look to you for guidance and support." She sat beside Violet.

Violet's brow furrowed in consideration. "But I'm only a little girl."

"But you won't always be, and they realize that. Now sit up straight and show them how a lady breaks her morning fast."

Rhiannon smiled when Violet did as instructed. She looked every bit the young mistress in her new blue gown. It hadn't been easy, but Rhiannon had managed to clean the ale stains from Violet's dress during the night, drying it before the fire in her room. This morning the young girl seemed more at ease than she had been in days. Violet had slept through the night, her nightmares gone for the moment.

As she ate, Rhiannon peered at the others in the hall from beneath her lashes. The women glared at her, as she had expected. Well, no matter. Lord Lockhart had given her the freedom to teach Violet what she thought necessary whether they approved or not. Today's lessons would be about the responsibility Violet had to the people around her.

That they would receive Violet's assistance without further trouble did not look promising, as long as Rhiannon was near, but she needed to guide the little girl. For how else would Violet learn?

Rhiannon had just taken another spoonful of oats, when the door to the great hall swung open, and a blast of cold air heralded Lord Lockhart's arrival.

His gaze shot directly to her. The cacophony of voices and laughter in the hall suddenly silenced. A warning not unlike the keen of a pipe went off in her head.

Rhiannon smoothed the creases from her dress with trembling fingers as he stalked toward her, his mouth pressed into a firm line. Her pulse gave a nervous leap when he stopped before her.

"Good morrow," he said with cool civility. "You will come with me."

"But Lady Violet—"

"Mistress Faulkner will attend her today." As if on cue, the chatelaine appeared at his side.

The two burly warriors he'd assigned to watch her every move stepped forward. "Shall we prepare to escort you?"

Lord Lockhart shook his head. "Stay and protect Lady Violet. I'll take care of Rhiannon." He thrust a long, fur cloak at her. "Put this on. We'll be going outside."

"Why outside?" Rhiannon stood and accepted the cloak.

"To follow the trail of a traitor."