Amanda Scott by Knights Treasure Read Free Book Online Page B

she had shut out the world. The eerie black silence of the fog-shrouded ramparts engulfed her, banishing the discomfiting sense she had had since Ardelve’s death of being swallowed up by well-wishers, critics, and fools.
    The result of this peace, to her surprise, was a wave of gusty sobs that wracked her until she pressed hard against the stone wall, seeking comfort from its solidity in the black mist. No one would seek her here, she assured her-self as she wiped tears with her sleeve and began to relax again. She should savor the quiet.
    The air felt damp and chilly on her cheeks, but she did not care. The velvet cloak was warm, and its sable-trimmed hood protected her hair from the mist. The chilly, damp air was refreshing, but thoughts of what lay ahead still plagued her.
    Although she had declared that she would do her duty, she did not want to accompany a corpse all the way to the Highlands. Such a journey could take a fortnight, and although days were still cool, no corpse could remain fresh for long.
    A scraping sound, as of a boot on the wall walk, startled her.
    “Who’s there?”
    A male voice, deep and unfamiliar, said, “Do not be frightened, my lady. There is naught in this darkness to harm you.”

Chapter 3
    T he deep, disembodied voice sounded educated, soothing, even sensuous. Adela’s tension increased nonetheless. “But who are you?” she demanded.
    “Just a man, my lady, who finds the sound of a young woman’s sobs distressing. Is there naught I can do to help you put things right?”
    “No, sir, nothing,” she said, embarrassed that he had heard her crying.
    “Will you not tell me what has distressed you so, Lady Adela?”
    “Faith, you know who I am?” Her embarrassment increased. Even in the chilly dampness she felt her cheeks burn at the thought that he had witnessed her uncharacteristic and most unladylike display of emotion.
    “I recognized your voice,” he said. “In view of what happened, I should say that you have cause for tears. But, clearly, yours was no ordinary arranged marriage if you care so much for your loss that you fled here to indulge your sorrow.”
    A suspicion stirred as to who he must be, for only one man other than Ardelve had shown interest in her that day. But surely guests at Roslin did not usually wander about the castle by themselves, let alone all the way up to its ramparts.
    “Pray, sir, tell me your name?” she asked.
    “My name is not important,” he said. “Indeed, ’tis better that you continue to think of me as just a friendly voice in the darkness.”
    “Are you a friend of the Sinclair family?” she asked.
    “Aye, a good friend.”
    “I wondered, because strangers do not normally come up here alone.”
    “I suppose not,” he agreed. “However, tonight even the so-careful Sinclairs would scarcely expect an enemy to take a stroll around the wall-walk. Hugo Robison is famous for his ability to protect this castle.”
    “Sir Michael Sinclair, as well,” Adela said, knowing that Michael served as master of Roslin when Henry was not in residence.
    “Aye, but you change the subject, my lady. I was told you scarcely knew your husband. Do you indeed grieve so deeply for him, or for another cause?”
    “In truth, I do not know why I was weeping,” she admitted. In the silence that followed, she tried to sort through her thoughts and feelings, then added, “ ’Tis more likely that I was crying because I can
not
weep for Ardelve.”
    “I don’t understand,” he said. “If you cry but cannot cry for him, then for whom were you crying?”
    “You make it sound like a bard’s riddle,” she said. “The truth is simpler. You see, this morning I had no feelings at all. It seemed very odd, because a woman ought to be happy on her wedding day, don’t you think?”
    “Were you sad?”
    “I felt nothing.”
    “Why do you think that was?”
    “Faith, sir, I don’t know. I do not know why I am talking to you when common sense tells me I