Page 73 of The Champion

He tilted her chin until she looked up at him. “Tell me.”

“I just remembered my father dying. One of his own men had been paid by an enemy to stab him from behind.”

Stryder frowned.

“My father was a good friend to Henry,” she said quietly. “As you well know, there are nobles who don’t like anyone who is closer to the king than they are, and they are willing to pay quite a lot to rid themselves of the competition.”

He looked around the stone walls as if his enemies were here with them now. Indeed, it was most likely one of them who had caused Stryder to be blamed for last night’s murder. “Aye. Evil does abound.”

“I’m afraid one day that such a thing will happen to you.” She gestured at the cell to prove her point.

Stryder’s thoughts turned to the last time he was in England with Simon. It was true, someone had tried to kill him.

Just how many assassins were there? Until now, he’d never given much thought to the attempts on his life. As Rowena had pointed out, jealous courtiers abounded. He’d never equated the attempts on his life with his position in the Brotherhood.

But now that he thought it over, the attempts hadn’t started until he’d been free for three years. Of course, it had taken him that long to become the king’s champion...

Coincidence?

Or had it taken the Saracens that long to train and dispatch their assassins?

That thought chilled him, but he didn’t want to think about it at present.

He had Rowena with him. Her soft, delicate scent. Her warm touch. It was all he wanted to think about at present.

He sat down on the pallet and leaned his back against the wall. Holding his hand out to Rowena, he pulled her into his lap the instant she took it.

Rowena laid her head on his chest as they snuggled in the cell. He held her quietly, letting her scent and softness wash over him. He brushed his hand through her hair while she looked up at him with those trusting green eyes.

This was such a peaceful moment. One of the very few in his life. Who would have imagined that it would be a woman renowned for her hatred of knights who would give it to him?

It was almost laughable.

But there was nothing laughable about the lady. She was a rare treasure that should be guarded and kept safe.

“I hope you get your freedom, Rowena,” he breathed quietly.

“I hope you don’t get hanged.”

He gave a half laugh at that. “Have no fear on that quarter. My men will never allow it.”

“What can they do?”

“We have taken an oath to watch each other’s backs. If all else fails, they will break me out of here.”

Her gaze turned dreamy at the thought of their escape. “Where will you go?”

“I have no idea. Back to the continent. We’ll live as nomads, making our fortunes at the tournaments as free-lances.”

She sighed wistfully. “Ah, true freedom. I should like to know one day of it.”

“Then come with us.”

She looked up at him. Her heart and hopes swam in her gaze. “You are tempting me to even greater folly, Stryder, Lord of Blackmoor. But I can’t leave my home, no matter how much I might wish to. My uncle would be crushed if I vanished. He still hasn’t recovered from my last escape venture, and I only went to stay with my cousin Camilla in Normandy.” She shook her head. “Even if I did find the nerve to leave again, what would you do with the likes of me?”

He gave her a wicked, charming smile. “I can think of many things I should like to do with you.”

Her face turned bright red. “I was being serious.”