Indignation pricked. He was correct, but what right did this masked bandit have to criticize her?
He raised his hand to touch her hair. “I regret bumping your head as we left the cathedral. How does it feel now?”
Instantly better with his touch.
“Perhaps if you took down your hair you would feel more comfortable.”
A shiver raced up and down her spine. “I cannot, sir,” she whispered, wishing fervently she could. “It wouldn’t be seemly to take down my hair in your presence.”
He laughed. “Lady Blythe, it’s not seemly of me to have carried you off.”
His laughter reverberated down to her toes and she took courage from his teasing. “You are a black knight.”
He looked away. “You can call me your Black Knight if you wish.”
My Black Knight.
“Schwarzer ritter,” she attempted.
He laughed again. “You have a good ear for my language.”
The silence stretched between them before she had the courage to ask, “Why have you brought me here?”
His eyes pierced her. “We need you to take care of your empress. She knows you. She’ll feel safer.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’ve kidnapped the empress? Why?”
He leapt to his feet. “Do you English know nothing of German politics, of our realities?”
She averted her eyes, stunned by his vehement reply.
He took her hand and bowed to kiss it. “Forgive me, Lady Blythe, I didn’t mean to be rude. We’ve come from Köln. Heinrich has laid siege to the city and blockaded it, cutting us off from the Rhine. The river is our lifeline. We don’t wish to be his subjects, so we’ve rebelled. We’ll hold Matilda until he withdraws. We wish no harm to her, nor to you.”
She looked up nervously, wanting, for some incomprehensible reason, to lift her hand to her lips and lick the still-wet warmth of his kiss. “You’re from Köln? I know of the struggle there.”
He shook his head emphatically. “Nein, I’m from Saxony. Like you, I have Saxon blood. We’re allies of our friends in Köln. I’m a vassal of Duke Lothair of Saxony.”
Her throat constricted. She remembered Lothair, but it wouldn’t be wise to reveal she had met him. All of this was beyond her. She laced her fingers together and looked anxiously toward the door. “But where is Matilda? Is someone bringing her? She must be terrified.”
His brow furrowed as he rose to his feet. “Ja, you’re right to be concerned. They should be here by now.”
He strode outside, leaving her alone in the silent chapel. She was grateful the stone pillars made it cooler here, but now she was trembling, despite the heavy gown. The sweat of her fear became clammy. Several anxious minutes later she heard horses approaching at speed. Men shouted at each other in German. The Black Knight’s deep voice was raised in anger. Strangely, hearing it again calmed her. Abruptly, he came back into the church, grasped her elbow and urged her towards the door.
She lifted the hem of her dress, afraid to stumble. “What’s happening? Where are we going now?”
“Köln.”
Panic seized her. She would never be rescued if he took her to Köln. She tried in vain to pull her arm from his tight grasp. “But where is Matilda?”
He stopped suddenly and turned her to face him, his hands gripping her shoulders.
She held her breath, frightened by the anger blazing in his blue eyes.
“Lady Blythe, I’m not accustomed to failure, but it seems my men have failed. Matilda escaped with her guards. Six of my comrades were killed, and several wounded.”
A wave of relief swept over her. She would be freed. “But if you don’t have Matilda, why do you need me?”
She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. He might kill her now.