Page 17 of To Love

From the weapons discrepancy Pembroke first discovered, to other smaller issues she’d uncovered, the records had proven more illuminating than she could have hoped for. She was looking forward to sharing her findings with Alden and uncovering any of his own observations.

You wish to see him for other reasons too.

Nay. Elara would never have chosen the man for such an important task for that reason alone. It would go against every tenet her father had instilled in her about using her mind, and not her heart, to make decisions. That her pulse happened to race when he was near . . . that she found herself glancing at him too often during instruction . . . none of those facts negated that he was trustworthy, something she’d sensed since the start.

Wiping her brow and exposed skin with scented water, Elara poured herself a goblet of wine and began to write all she’d learned that day. She was so engrossed in her task that the knock on the door to the secret entrance to her chamber startled her. It would be Alden, of course, but she could not be too cautious.

“Identify yourself,” she called through the door, pushing aside the tapestry.

“Alden of Shirsten St. Mary, son of John of Dunridge, at your service, my lady.”

Smiling, Elara unlatched the door. “Your father,” she said, stepping aside, “is well-known throughout England as the most skilled blacksmith of his time.”

Alden wore breeches and a cream linen shirt, its wide Vexposing the top portion of his chest. She was used to seeing him without the emblazoned black surcoat given to all recruits when they joined their order. Glancing away from the thick forearms clearly visible with Alden’s shirt sleeves rolled, she bid him enter.

“He comes from a long line of blacksmiths and is very skilled indeed.”

Elara picked up the pitcher she had brought with her from the hall, and asked, “Wine?”

“Aye,” he said, his deep voice closer than she expected. For such a large man, he was quietly stealthy indeed.

Pouring the wine, she turned and handed it to him. “We’ve much to discuss.”

Their eyes met. Elara did not wish to look away. For once, she wished to allow herself to be drawn into their depths. For one so affable, he had experienced pain too, as had everyone. But his cut deeply, and Elara wished to know what had caused it.

Pushing away the thought, after indulging herself for another moment too long, the silence too intimate, she gestured for him to sit.

“Will you tell me how you first learned of the potential breach?” he asked as Elara sat across from him.

Beside the fire, as they drank finer French wine than Elara would have expected here at Blackwood, a fortification concerned more with security than luxuries, she explained what the steward had uncovered.

“He brought his suspicions to Lord Ashcroft,” she said. “And from there a council was convened.”

“Is there a way to explain the fact that our men received less weapons reinforcements than the ledgers suggest?”

“An error, perhaps?” she ventured, standing. “’Tis possible, but not taken together with this.”

Placing her wine on a nearby table, she fetched the piece of parchment Pembroke gave her. It did not occur to Elara that Alden may be unable to read until after she handed it to him.

“I did not mean—”

He looked up.

“That is . . . ” She should not have said anything. Now there was no way for Elara to cover her words. “I could read it to you.”

He frowned, clearly displeased. “My mother was gently bred and learned to read. She taught my siblings and me at an early age.”

“Apologies, Master Alden. It occurred belatedly to me you’ve never taken written notes during our instruction.”

“And since I am a simple blacksmith’s son, ’tis unlikely I am able to read and write?”

Elara chastised herself for the assumption and thought to appease him. “Alden,” she said, using his given name as he’d prompted her to do many times. Elara did not want him to believe she thought him inferior in any way. “As you’ve told me to address you, unless you’ve changed your mind on that.”

It was a peace offering. Would he take it?

“I have not, my lady,” he said.

Elara would venture one step further toward making amends. “Elara. In this chamber,” she clarified. “Of course, during instruction ’tis Lady Elara.”