Page 5 of One Knight in the Forest

Chapter Three

With his booted foot, Cyn pried open the door of the wattle-and-daub home built in the heart of the forest. As Lancelot slipped inside out of the pouring rain, and the stout door eased outward, laughter greeted Cyn: a woman’s giggle blended with a man’s chuckle.

Inwardly, Cyn cringed, for he recognized Dyane’s sultry laugh. He was in no mood for her bold flirtations today. However, she was a good soul, one he could depend on, and Lady Suffield needed care as quickly as possible.

“Borden,” he shouted as he maneuvered his way through the doorway, taking care not to bump the lady’s limbs or lolling head against the embrasure. Rainwater squelched inside Cyn’s boots and dripped from his garments onto the planks. Inside at last, he set down his bow and drew a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scents of home: wood smoke, drying herbs, and cooking pottage.

Lancelot trotted away, while a wiry, gray-haired man hurried from the kitchen. His bright blue eyes widened. “Milord. You left to arrest poachers and returned with a beautiful maiden.”

“Her name is Lady Suffield,” Cyn said. “William’s men found me in the woods. They were searching for her.”

“Why?”

“I do not know.”

The older man’s gaze slid over the unconscious lady, and his face creased into a worried frown. “I see blood on her garments.”

“She hurt her leg. She needs stitches.”

Concern darkened Borden’s gaze. “I will boil water right away and fetch the other necessary supplies, milord.” He spun on his heel, almost rushing headlong into the plump, black-haired woman who’d strolled up behind him. Her dark gray, lawn gown was cut exceedingly low in front and exposed a shocking amount of cleavage. Her garment was also dry, indicating she’d arrived a while ago, mayhap even before the storm broke.

“Forgive me,” Borden said, brushing past her and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Good day, Dyane,” Cyn said before striding into the main part of the home where a fire burned in a large stone hearth. His arms were tiring from bearing the lady’s weight, but more importantly, he wanted to tend to her wound.

Lancelot had lain down by the hearth alongside his fellow wolfhounds, Guinevere and Galahad. The dogs raised their heads to watch Cyn but didn’t move from their warm spot.

“I brought ye some fresh eggs, bread, butter, cheese, and milk,” Dyane said, following Cyn to the cushioned oak chair where he shooed away a sleeping cat and then gently set the lady down. “I didn’t realize such nasty weather was brewin’ today.”

Of course she had. Dyane wasn’t witless. Like most farm folk, she knew the signs of an impending storm. Yet, Cyn merely smiled as he straightened, rolling his shoulders to ease the knots gathered there. He took the wet quiver of arrows from his shoulder and set it by the hearth. “’Tis a very bad storm. You must wait here for the worst of it pass.”

She beamed as if he’d invited her to strip naked. “I will. Thank ye.”

“Thank you for the food. I trust Borden paid you for it?”

“Aye, ’e did.”

With stiff, numb fingers, Cyn began to work the silver pin securing his cloak. “Any news?” he asked, meeting her gaze. Dyane served drinks at her brother’s tavern several days a week and heard all kinds of gossip that might be of interest to a sheriff. Cyn paid her well for the information she shared.

Dyane wrinkled her nose. “I do not know if ’tis important, but the tavern ’as been busier than usual lately.”

“Busier? How?”

“More lords visitin.’ I’ve seen the same curly-’aired man several times over the past sennight. Always, ’e is with different men, and ’e sits at the back, where I cannot draw near without them seeing. I’ve tried ta eavesdrop while scrubbin’ tables, changin’ candles in the ’olders, and suchlike—but the men always shut up until I’ve moved on.”

“Keep watch,” Cyn said, the pin finally coming undone. He set it on a side table and then strode to the carved box on a nearby shelf, from which he withdrew a few coins. She slowly tucked them down between her breasts. Catching him watching, she grinned, revealing the wide gap between her front teeth.

Saints above. He would have been wise to have resisted ogling her.

Before he could move away, she closed the distance between them, her greedy hands sliding up the front of his cloak. “Tsk, tsk. Yer garments are soaked through.” A lusty twinkle lit her eyes. “I can ’elp ye get out of those garments. I can work fast when—”

Borden strode into the room, carrying a large bowl. Several towels were tucked under his arm. “The boiled water, milord.”

Thank God.

Cyn caught Dyane’s still-moving hands and eased her away. Meeting Borden halfway, Cyn took the items and set them on a side table. “Help me move the cot from my chamber. I will need clean bedding and blankets, too.”

“Aye, milord.”