Tori Phillips by Midsummer's Knight Page B

paused to admire himself in the looking glass. He straightened his bonnet and adjusted the fall of his latest gold chain. “I will take my supper with the king in the hall. I expect our horses to be saddled and ready by eight of the clock.” He turned to go.
    “My lord?” Tod licked his lips. He rarely interfered with Scantling’s plans, but the Lady Kat had been good to the boy and he wanted to give her some warning. “If we are discovered gone in the night, your creditors will assume that you have fled straightway to Bodiam, and they will pursue you there. Methinks you would not want your debts and your aunt brought face-to-face.”
    Scantling paused. “For once, you speak with a grain of sense. Go on.”
    “If, instead, we leave openly on the morrow, with many words in many ears that you have gone north to visit friends at Oxford, then your creditors will hie themselves in the wrong direction.”
    Sir Fenton grinned like a tickled cat. “I like this pretty plan. And then?”
    “Meanwhile, we shall ride westward as far as Bath, before turning south and from there to Bodiam. That way we shall elude those who seek you.” And I shall try to send warning to my lady.
    Fenton ran his fingers down the jaunty white plume in his bonnet. “Finish packing, then take yourself back to your hall and enjoy your supper. Dally with a maid. Drink with your scurvy fellows and spread the word of my trip to Oxford. You have done well, Worm.” Turning on his heel, Fenton went out the door, banging it behind him.
    Sinking down on the floor next to the bed, Tod drew in one or two deep breaths. His master’s changeable moods always unnerved him. He knew that Sir Fenton was most dangerous when he seemed the calmest. Glancing at the table, he spied writing materials there, beckoning to be used. The boy swore against the Fates that had left him unlettered. He prayed he could find someone in the servants’ hall who was Sussex-bound.
     
    The new day dawned as bright as the seven before it. Kat hurried through her dressing and barely tasted the bread and butter that Laurel had brought to break her fast. Miranda hummed as she prepared for the day, as well. All in all, this past week had flown most agreeably. Thank heavens, Miranda had ceased to ask when Kat planned to end the game! Just another week in Sir John’s company, then...
    “Well met, ladies, and a joyous good morrow to you both!” Sir John bowed as Kat and Miranda joined the handsome knights in the hall.
    “Well spoken, Sir John,” Kat returned. “Have you been taking lessons from my Lord Cavendish?”
    Sir John wobbled a smile. “Aye, mistress, I fear he has bent my ear of late for my lack of good manners.” He glared at Sir Brandon, who merely smiled in return.
    “Then permit me to order some lemon juice for your dinner, in case the honey of your speech sticks to the roof of your mouth and renders you useless for the rest of the day,” Kat replied with a grin.
    “What shall we do betwixt now and dinner?” Miranda, as the lady of the house, asked her guests. “What is your pleasure?”
    Sir Brandon opened his mouth, then shut it and glanced at Sir John. Stafford cleared his throat.
    “Perchance you will accompany me on a ride in the forest, my Lady Katherine?” he mumbled, not looking at the real Katherine.
    Kat looked at him with amazement. How now? Did Sir John get up on the wrong side of his bed this morning? Have my teeth turned green? And why is he looking at Miranda in such a sickly fashion?
    Before Kat could speak, the housekeeper, Sondra Owens, hurried into the hall. Daisy and Violet followed close behind her, their arms laden with bolts of colorful fabric.
    Sondra bobbed a quick curtsy. “Your pardon, Mistress Miranda, but I have much need of you.”
    Kat raised her brows. “Now? This minute?”
    Sondra’s eyes took on a merry look. In fact, she seemed to radiate excitement. Kat could not imagine why.
    “Aye, mistress.” Sondra pointed to the serving