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Authors: Miriam Minger

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Medieval, #General, #Historical Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance

Captive Rose (49 page)

BOOK: Captive Rose
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"Ah, no," she replied uncomfortably, hating
the thought that she must lie to him. "I didn't lose anything. I was just
going to peek under this canvas to see what was inside the wagon."

Nicholas laughed as if she'd said something silly. "It's
just seeds. Papa's tenants are going to plant them in the fields."

"
Ooohhh
." She
smiled self-mockingly. "All that curiosity just for seeds. Well, I guess I'll
just go on to the hospital—"

"We'll walk you there!" Nicholas blurted, "I
want to show my friends the bandages I've made."

"No, no, another time, Nicholas," Leila said,
a hard lump in her throat. "The hospital is untidy from all the visitors
who came to see your papa the past few days. I'm just going to clean it up."
As his face fell, she chucked him gently under the chin. "How about
tomorrow morning? You can bring your friends and we'll all make more bandages.
Would you like that?"

As he brightened, Leila felt even more wretched.

"Good." She bent and whispered in his ear. "If
you start running right now, Nicholas, you'll get a good lead on them and they'll
never catch you."

He nodded, throwing his arms around her neck in a
fierce hug,
then
just as quickly he released her and
took off at a run toward the back of the storehouse. Startled, the two boys
followed him, shouting his
name
and crying "No
fair!" In an instant, all three had disappeared around the corner.

Heartsick, Leila wasted no more time. She threw back
the canvas and hoisted herself over the side of the wagon. Taking a last deep
breath of fresh air, she dragged the canvas back into place just as thunder
crackled high overhead.

A light rain began to pelt the covering and the next
thing she knew, a man's voice shouted out, "We'll have to leave now if we're
going to beat the worst of this storm."

"Aye, let's be off."

Huddled between two large sacks of grain, Leila let her
tears fall as the driver's seat creaked and the wagon lurched into motion.

 

***

 

It couldn't have been more than a half hour later when
the wagon came to a final stop.

Wiping her damp face with a fold of her cloak, Leila
discerned that they must be in some kind of shelter, for the rain had ceased to
batter the canvas and she could hear the two horses being unhitched. Fearfully
she wondered if the tenant might unload the wagon, but, to her relief, she guessed
he had decided not to when a door opened and closed, and the building grew
quiet. No doubt a warm fire and a good hot meal awaited him.

She remained very still for a few more minutes just to
make sure he wasn't coming back,
then
she could stand
the close confines and stuffy air no longer. She cautiously drew back the
canvas and peered above the rim of the wagon.

To her surprise and good fortune, she found herself in
a stable. And here she had thought she would have to walk all the way to her
brother's castle!

She clambered over the side, wrenching her cloak free
when it snagged on a nail. She immediately went to the nearest stall and in
great haste bridled and saddled the roan palfrey she found there. She had no
idea when the tenant might return.

She led the nickering animal to the stable door, glad
for the storm raging outside. She hoped the rumbling thunder and whistling wind
would mask the horse's
hoofbeats
and conceal her
furtive escape.

As Leila pushed open the door, cold rain lashed her
face. Squinting against it, she mounted and nudged the now agitated palfrey
into a trot. The wind whipped the hood from her head, but she didn't care. All
that mattered was that she
reach
her brother's castle
before sunset. She did not want to spend the night wandering blind in the
woods.

Once they had cleared the
stableyard
,
she urged the horse into a gallop across a muddy field. She threw an anxious
glance over her shoulder, thankful that no one was running out of the small
farmhouse. She turned her thoughts to what lay ahead, trying to get her sense
of direction.

She got her bearings a short while later when she
reached the River
Usk
, which flowed to the south. She
already knew that the
Gervais
fortress lay some ten
miles southward along the same river.

Leila looked to the north, but she couldn't see
Warenne
Castle through the billowing gray mist and driving
rain. It was just as well.

"On with you!" she cried hoarsely, veering
the palfrey along the rolling bank as they headed south.

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

Shivering, wet to the skin and exhausted, Leila sat silently
on a bench, a small puddle of water forming at her feet. She watched as Roger
paced in front of her, stopping now and again to stare incredulously at her.

He hadn't even given her a chance to change out of her
sodden, mud-spattered clothes, which really didn't surprise her. She had no
sooner arrived at
Gervais
Castle, formidably perched
upon a cliff above the River
Usk
, than she was rushed
into this private solar adjoining the great hall by the two silent knights who
now guarded the entrance. That had been scarcely five minutes ago.

Leila's stomach grumbled noisily at the scent of food
wafting through the closed door. The household was at their early evening
supper, but she hadn't been offered any sustenance. It seemed Roger had no
thought for any amenities, especially after what she had just told him.

"I want to know if I heard you correctly,"
Roger said, halting a few feet from the bench. His hard blue eyes searched her
face. "You have left your husband."

Leila sighed wearily. "Yes."

"And you wish to obtain an annulment of your
marriage because you were forced to consent to it against your will. Is that
right?"

"Yes." Her low answer was like a death knell
upon her heart.

Roger shook his head in disbelief and glanced at Maude,
standing off to the side, her face composed as if chiseled in stone. She had
said nothing yet, just listened with her hands clasped so tightly that her
knuckles shone white.

Leila saw the look which passed between them, a strange
mix of total amazement and shrewd cunning. She could sense their barely
controlled excitement like a ripe fragrance hanging in the air. She imagined
they were already counting the money her fortuitous appearance would soon bring
them.

"Who told you marriages could be so annulled?"
Maude queried, breaking her icy silence.

"We had overnight visitors a week ago at
Warenne
Castle, a Marcher lord traveling with his lady to
north Wales," Leila explained dully. "At supper, the woman was quite
free with her talk of the past, saying she had once been married against her
will to a man three times her age. After she pressed her suit to King Henry,
the unlawful union was dissolved." When Maude's expression did not change,
Leila grew fearful that her efforts might have been wasted. "I can do
this, can't I?"

"Oh, yes, you certainly can," Roger answered
for his wife. "But what I want to know, dear sister, is how you managed to
escape from a heavily guarded fortress."

When Leila told him, Roger threw back his head and
laughed. The ringing sound gave her chills, for it held no humor, only scorn.

"Priceless. Absolutely priceless," he said to
Maude. "De
Warenne's
recent misfortune gave her
just the opportunity she needed. While he was lying abed convalescing, his wife
eluded him in a grain wagon! God, how I would love to see his face when he
discovers she's gone, and for good. When Guy finds out she's taken refuge here
with us and wants an annulment . . ." His voice trailed into loud, mocking
laughter.

He will hate me, Leila thought desolately, finishing
her brother's sentence. She lowered her head and stared blindly at the floor.

She had never felt so sick at heart or so weary of
spirit, yet she knew she would simply have to grow used to this wretched pain.
It was the price she had to pay.

She wanted Guy to hate her, to curse her name, to wish he
had never met her, to wish she had never lived. If his hatred and sense of
betrayal kept him away from Roger, her sacrifice would not be in vain. If her
annulment kept Roger away from Guy, her loss would have gained her something.
She would do anything to keep them apart.

She started when she saw two black boots plant
themselves in front of her, and she cried out when Roger roughly forced up her
chin. No longer laughing, his face was very grim.

"Something doesn't make sense to me, Leila, and I
want you to tell me the truth. Why did you really come here? Why didn't you
keep riding all the way to Dover and be rid of us all? You made no secret of
your desire to return to Damascus, and you already know damn well what we will
plan for you once your annulment becomes final." He squeezed her jaw
cruelly. "Something drove you here. What?"

Her throat was so constricted with emotion, Leila could
barely force out an answer. She lowered her lashes as tears filled her eyes. "I
came here . . . to propose a trade. If you refuse to meet Lord de
Warenne
in a trial by combat and cease your acts of
vengeance against him, I promise to willingly marry anyone you choose for me."

Roger's eyes narrowed and he snorted with disgust. "By
God, I don't believe it." He released her so abruptly she almost fell
backward off the bench. "She's in love with the bastard. She's doing this
for him."

"Does Lord de
Warenne
know you love him?" Maude demanded, rushing forward to grip Roger's arm. "If
he does, my
husband, that
will surely bring him down
upon us—"

"No, of course not!" Leila cried. "He
knows nothing. He thinks I despise him and he will surely believe it now that I
have left him to seek an annulment. He doesn't even know I'm pregnant with his
child!"

As her last words echoed in the room, she immediately
wished she could retract them. Roger's face was red with anger.

"You're breeding?" he demanded, approaching
her slowly.

"Y-yes, but why should that matter?" she
replied, her voice sounding strangely shrill to her ears. "When I
overheard you in your tent at Westminster, you said it would make no
difference. Y-you said that whomever you married me to" —she almost choked—
"would accept the child as his own."

"You little fool!" Roger cried. "What I
said then has no bearing on our situation now. If we could marry you off
quickly, it would be one thing. Any potential suitors would easily be deceived.
But your annulment could take weeks to be approved by the Church, maybe longer."

"There might also be a royal inquiry," Maude
interjected, staring coldly at Leila, "since you stated your consent to
the king in Westminster Abbey."

"Yes, that could further delay the ruling,"
Roger continued harshly. "By then, you will be far gone with de
Warenne's
bastard, for that is what you will bear when your
union is declared void. Your damnable pregnancy will only hinder our chances of
arranging a marriage from which we can profit. Few will want to wed you,
knowing you will soon have another man's bastard at your tit, and even if
someone does, he'll hardly be willing to pay the full bride price I demand."

"What are you saying?" Leila asked, panic
building inside her.

"You must rid yourself of the child."

"No," she breathed, horrified. "No!"
Jumping up from the bench, she attempted to dart around it, but Roger caught
her arm and wrenched her back to face him.

"Hear me well, my dearest sister. Your touching
sacrifice will save Guy from any more unfortunate accidents in the future only
if you do exactly as I say. And yes, I might even refuse to meet him in
judicial combat if you rid yourself of his bastard spawn. You saw how he fell
at the king's tournament. If I fight him, I promise you he will fall again, but
this time with my lance buried deep in his heart. Now decide!"

Stricken with horror, Leila could only shake her head
numbly, which infuriated Roger all the more.

"Perhaps you need some time to think," he
muttered through clenched teeth. "I believe a dark cell is just the place
to encourage some serious reflection." As he began to drag her to a side
door, he threw a terse command at Maude. "Send for the healer and have her
prepare a potion. I want it to be ready when Leila comes to her senses. And you
two" —he sharply addressed his somber-faced knights— "find the priest!
If Anselm is not at supper, he's probably in the village visiting that Welsh
mistress of his. If so, ride out and fetch him. I want him to prepare the
annulment documents tonight so they may be sent by messenger to the archbishop
first thing in the morning."

"Aye, my lord," they answered as one,
following Maude from the solar.

Leila's eyes were so blinded by tears she could barely
see as Roger yanked her through a dark corridor and into an adjoining building.
She sensed it was the keep when her hand scraped against a rough stone wall,
and she wiped her eyes so she might have some idea where she was being taken.

Roger had said a dark cell, she thought wildly. Did he
mean to lock her inside . . . ?

Her worst fears were confirmed when Roger grabbed a hanging
lantern and they began to descend a narrow flight of stairs. Deeper and deeper
into the bowels of the keep he led her, down two more flights of worn stone
steps until finally they reached the bottom. There was no floor, only
hard-packed dirt, and a barred door fitted into each wall.

"You'll find this dungeon is quite unpleasant,"
Roger said tightly. He flung open one of the doors and thrust Leila so roughly
inside the small cell that she tripped and went sprawling into the filthy
straw. "I doubt you'll want to stay here very long. As soon as you agree
to my demand, you will be released." He began to swing the door closed,
then stopped, holding up the lantern in such a way that his eyes shone
malevolently. "Just think well on everything I've said, Leila. There will
be nothing else for you to do down here."

BOOK: Captive Rose
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