Page 21 of Raven's Rise
He looked around, saw no one, then produced the iron key. “Keep this with you until you give it to the abbot himself. Tell no one you have it. These soldiers may well turn upon you if they think they’d have a chance to steal the money for themselves.”
Angelet’s mouth dropped open. If Otto thought that was possible, why was he hiring them in the first place?
“My lord,” she said at last. “If you don’t trust them…”
“Oh, they seem solid enough. But one never knows, and gold makes men do strange things. So be wary, daughter. Keep your own counsel, don’t fall into easy confidences, and remain aloof until you arrive safely at Basingwerke. Understand?”
“Yes, my lord.” Angelet tucked the key into the small bag slung about her waist. Otto never called herdaughter. What a strange parting this was turning out to be. “I suppose I should rejoin the group. They can hardly start off without me.”
“Very true,” Otto said, putting a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. “We have not got on, Angelet. But all else aside, you’re the mother of my only grandson, and I’ll never forget that. You did your duty as a wife to Hubert. And I think you also made him happy, to the end of his short life.”
She nodded and turned away, unable to think of anything to say. Otto made her life hell for years, and now he wanted…what? Gratitude? Reconciliation? She had nothing for him. “I must go.”
Armed with the key, conscious of the weight of it in her bag, she returned to the cortège.
Rafe stood by the door of her personal carriage, his hand out. “Ready to go, my lady?”
She put her hand in his as she stepped up into the cushioned interior. His grip was strong and steady, and she would have enjoyed it more if the maid Bethany hadn’t been glaring at her pointedly from her own seat.
She still had difficulty believing that Bethany volunteered to accompany her. It would be better to do without a maid at all, yet she could not be devoid of female companionship on the journey. Even as a widow, she must appear chaste.
Angelet let go of Rafe’s hand as though it were on fire. “I am ready to go, sir knight.”
“Expect a few moments wait, my lady, and then we’ll be moving.” Rafe shut the door, smiled at Angelet through the open window, and walked off.
“What caused you to dally?” Bethany asked.
“My reasons are not your concern,” Angelet replied, feeling a surge of confidence at the thought of leaving Dryton Manor at last. “Conduct yourself according to your station, Bethany, and we’ll have no trouble.”
“And if I don’t?” the maid asked.
“You can walk.”
“You’re not in charge.”
“If not me, then who? Ernald? Otto? Or is there another one of noble birth tucked away in the supply wagon?” Angelet looked hard at Bethany. “If answering to me chafes you so, hop out now before we leave Dryton.”
“What will you do without a maid?”
“I’ll hire another one in the next village.” Angelet had never done such a thing before, but judging by Bethany’s shocked expression, the maid believed it possible.
The next few hours passed in silence. Angelet stared out the windows, eager to see anything outside her own small world. The view was not inspiring, mostly mud and still-bare branches. But the air was crisp and smelled cleaner than the manor’s did. That was enough.
Her carriage was well-supplied with cushions to make the journey more comfortable, and curtains to block dust and rain, as well as any too-curious stares.
In addition to her own carriage, there were two supply wagons stocked with food and equipment they’d need along the way. It was expected that they’d find shelter at other homes or in towns for most of the nights. But to travel in this day and age meant to always be prepared for the unexpected: a storm, bad roads, a washed-out bridge, or worse. Rafe told her they’d likely be sleeping at least a few nights on the road. For most of the party, that was no hardship—they were commoners and soldiers, used to rougher living. She was apprehensive about the notion of sleeping outdoors, but after all, she wouldn’t be alone.
If only she felt less alone.
Chapter 8
The first evening, they haltedin a village Angelet had heard of but had never been to. The inn there was quite acceptable, and the innkeeper was familiar with Otto and Dryton, so Angelet was given the best room. She would have been even more pleased, except that the sour-faced Bethany would share it with her, to preserve her honor.
Rafe came up to them and pointed to a small pyramid of sacks and boxes. “Bethany, those items all go up to the lady’s chamber. You should be able to take care of it in three or four trips.”
Surprisingly, Bethany nodded and went to work.
Angelet was happy…then she noticed the chest of gold. “What are you doing with that, Sir Rafe?”
