English, Elizabeth (31 page)

His
kindness nearly undid her. How could she regard him as her enemy when he had
been so kind to Robin, looking after him, making plans for his future? For a
moment she was almost sorry that the knight was not more like his brother.

He
lay back on his elbows and stared up at the sky. "On a day like this, it
seems impossible that men cannot live in peace with one another," he
mused. "But in spite of everything, I am glad I came to know you and
Robin. Do you know, Alyson, I wish—I truly wish that you were John's true-born
daughter instead of Maude."

He
took her hand and smiled. "Just between the two of us, you're worth ten of
her. She can't even keep to her part of the bargain and stay indoors. I think
that's why John's in such a fever to wrap this up—he can't control her at all.
Every fine day she's out hawking by the river, and it's only a matter of time
before the secret leaks out. She really is a most disagreeable girl, you know,
and John is even worse. I regret I ever agreed to help either of them."

He
hesitated a moment, studying the sky. "And I'm done with it," he said
abruptly. "It was wrong from the beginning, I should have seen that,
but—well, I won't try to excuse myself. Suffice it to say, I'm finished. And so
are you. Let John fight his own battles. Come with me right now, Alyson. I'll
get Robin out of Aylsford and take you both to London. What do you say?"

"Thank
you. You are so kind... If you could take Robin I would be grateful, but I... I
cannot leave. Not now."

"Christ's
wounds," he muttered. "I was afraid of that."

"Of
what?"

"Celia
has been here already." He sighed, giving her a bright, shrewd glance from
his hazel eyes. "She had quite a tale to tell."

Alyson's
cheeks burned as she imagined what Celia had told the knight. "Then you
know why I cannot leave with you."

"Because
you've bedded with Jemmy Kirallen?" he asked sharply.

"No.
Because I love him."

"Love."
He stood and paced the grass, the sunlight glinting off his rings and the
jeweled pin in his cap. "My dear, you don't love him," he said at
last. "No, wait, listen to me. I do understand how you're feeling. I
imagine that whatever happened was quite... powerful. But that isn't love. Oh,
in time, perhaps, it would become that. But now—you don't know him, do you? Not
really. And, my dear, he certainly doesn't know you. If you were really Maude I
would say that you had a good chance of finding happiness with this man. But as
it is," he looked at her and his bright eyes were very sad. "When he
finds out the truth, Alyson..."

"I
know. But what else can I do?" she cried, jumping to her feet. "I
cannot walk away and let him die! I—Sir Robert, I mean to tell him
everything."

"Are
you mad?" Robert cried. "Do you think he'll thank you for it? It's
far more likely he will hang you."

"No!
He would not do that!"

"But
you don't know them! I'm telling you that when they find out the truth they
won't stop to think at all."

"He
won't let them hurt me," Alyson said. "Once I explain everything to
him I'm sure he'll let me go."

"It's
a mistake. You are not thinking clearly. That's no wonder, given everything
that's happened. But Alyson, you must listen to me. These people, they're...
brutal. It won't matter to them that you're young and a woman, they'll have
their vengeance at any price."

She
burst into tears and he put his arms around her, drawing her head down to his
shoulder. "Poor girl, there isn't much to choose between us, is there? All
right. You do it your way. I hope that you are right. I'll wait for you for
three more days. If you don't come by then... oh, Alyson, I wish you wouldn't
do this!"

"Sir
Robert, can you tell me Lord Darnley's plan? How long do we have?"

He
frowned. "What John has done is wrong. If you want to tell the Kirallens
about your part in this deception, I won't stop you. But no matter what he has
done, he is my brother. I won't betray him to his enemies."

"I
understand."

"You
do, don't you?" He hugged her hard against him, then looked into her face.
"When this is over we will go to London, do you hear me? I'll be waiting
for you here."

She
smiled and returned his embrace. He was a kind man, really, but he couldn't
help her. No one could help her now. Except Jemmy.

Jemmy
ran a hand through his hair, unconsciously
streaking his forehead with
soot, and rose stiffly from his knees.

"Tam,"
he began, then stopped as the young man raised stricken eyes from his young
wife's grave. What can I possibly say to him? Jemmy wondered. No words of mine
can ease the pain of loss. He put a comforting hand on Tam's shoulder, and the
young man bent his head and wept.

Jemmy
looked at the devastated village with weary anger, his eyes going over the
fresh graves cutting into the hillside. When he found who was responsible for
this they would pay—dearly.

The
reivers had come just after midnight, taking the villagers unaware. Since the
peace with Darnley they'd grown more lax, the headman explained, and they'd set
fewer guards. But this could have been McInnes' work, or any of the clans who
hunted through the Borderlands. One of the survivors had sworn he'd recognized
Darnley's men, but that, of course, was impossible. The Englishman would never
risk his daughter's safety, not even for the fine sheep and cattle that had
been taken from this once prosperous village.

At
the thought of his wife Jemmy turned and called impatiently for his horse. He'd
missed Maude sorely during this journey. By day his every moment had been full,
but at night he hardly slept for wanting her. Every time he closed his eyes she
was there, lying on the bed with her hair spread all about her, her eyes
darkening with desire at his touch. She was so beautiful, so sweetly innocent,
and at the same time so eager to learn how she might please him...

"Do
I please you?" she had asked, and he'd felt his eyes sting at the
wistfulness of the question.

He'd
never had a woman who had made him feel as she did, hot and eager as a boy yet
tenderly protective, too, ready to kill anyone who brought her the slightest
unhappiness. Romantic nonsense, that's what he would have said only a few days
ago. He'd had so many women, after all, and every one more skilled in the arts
of love than his bride. But when all was said and done they were only women,
and what he did with them was something of the flesh, enjoyable but all too
soon forgotten. From the moment they'd lain together in the stables, he'd known
that there was far more to his feelings for Maude than that. It was something
he'd never felt before, as though they'd been truly bound together, not only
their bodies but their souls as well, exactly as the priest had said it should
be.

He
should have brought her. Not only because it would have pleased him to have her
with him, but because she could have helped him in this place. He could
organize men to clear the wreckage, search for survivors, and bury the dead.
The habit of command was strong in him. But when it came to comforting the
bereaved... He glanced down at young Tam, kneeling beside his wife's grave.
Maude would know what to say to him. Jemmy could only imagine how it would feel
to lose his own wife and wonder how the man could bear it.

He
knew Maude was safe, it was ridiculous to think otherwise, though ever since
he'd left her he'd been feeling an uneasiness that defied explanation. He
wouldn't be happy until he'd seen her for himself. He pushed his escort as hard
as he dared and when they came to a turning in the road he waved them forward
and struck out across the fields. The route would take him across Darnley's
lands, but that should be safe enough now. He was, after all, the man's
son-in-law. That set him wondering if Maude was missing her family, and he was
thinking that she might enjoy a visit home, though not too soon, he hoped. He
didn't want to be parted from her...

He
was nearly home when he saw the riders approaching. Four, he counted, and
Alistair was at their head. The knight pulled up sharply and said without
preamble, "Darnley has assembled a huge force of men. Some of them are
quartered at Aylsford, the rest at McInnes'. We have to move—and quickly."

"Hold
up, Alistair," Jemmy commanded. "What's this? How did you get this
information?"

"I
have men at Aylsford who keep me informed. And at McInnes'. The information is
certain."

"Let's
get home," Jemmy said. "We'll talk about it there."

"No,
wait," Alistair exclaimed. "There's more to it than that. Your
wife—"

"This
is nothing to do with her," Jemmy snapped.

"I'm
afraid you're wrong about that," Alistair insisted. "I've had her
followed while ye were gone, and just today she was meeting with one of
them—"

"You
lie," Jemmy growled, his eyes sparking with anger. "You've always
hated her, and now you invent this tale—"

"If
you don't believe me," Alistair motioned one of the men forward.
"Then ask Conal."

Conal
had always been a friend; from the time Jemmy had returned he and his twin
brother, Donal, had offered their support. Now the young man ducked his head so
he wouldn't have to look Jemmy in the eye.

"
'Tis true," he said reluctantly. "We all saw her. She went down to
the border early this morning and there was a man waiting for her. An English
knight he was, all dressed in finery. And—and he took her in his arms,
Jemmy—she was crying and—"

Jemmy
went numb. "Who was this knight?"

"I
dinna know—I followed him after and heard his squire call him Sir Robert."

Then
Jemmy knew it was the truth. Robert. Robin. The one she had called for in her
sleep. "Very well," he said. "Let's get back. Then we'll decide
what to do next."

***

Maggie
was folding linens when the door opened and
her lady burst in,
breathless. "Has he been here?" she demanded.

"Who,
my lady?" Maggie asked.

"Why,
my lord—I saw his horse in the stables. Has he not been up yet?"

The
girl's face was flushed, her eyes feverishly bright. "Whisht now, calm
yourself. He's not been here today."

"Aye,
I will. But Maggie, help me change—"

She
was tugging off her riding clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Maggie
gathered them up, smiling to herself. Lady Maude was always so neat and tidy,
tending her things as carefully as though they were borrowed. Now she was
kicking off her skirt without bothering to take off her riding boots first. She
whirled and seized a green gown trimmed with gold, pulling it so quickly over
her head that she became tangled in the heavy folds. Maggie came to her rescue
and soon it was fastened. She'd just begun to brush out her mistress' hair when
the girl jumped up.

"Leave
it," she said impatiently.

"But
my lady, you mustna go out so," Maggie scolded. "At least let
me—"

"Oh,
I'll do it." And she did, gathering it and braiding it swiftly, if not
neatly, so it fell over one shoulder.

"You'll
dine here tonight?" Maggie asked.

"Dine?"
She stared at Maggie as if she'd never heard the word before. "I don't
know—it doesn't matter—"

When
she was gone Maggie shivered and pulled her shawl more closely about her old
shoulders, then whispered a quick prayer. There was something strange about her
lady today, something more than just the excitement of her lord's return.

Something
fey.

***

Jemmy
stared blindly from the window as Alistair finished his report. Darnley—the
bastard! It was all too easy to believe he'd break his sworn word. But at the
risk of his daughter's life? No, he doted on the girl, that was well known.
He'd only do it if he thought her safe, if she was somehow involved in the
deception. But that simply could not be. Not Maude who had lain in his arms, so
warm, so loving. Surely that could not have been a lie!

And
yet she'd been seen with the knight. Sir Robert, he thought, and unconsciously
his hand strayed to the sword on his hip. He'd find the man and cut him into
shreds. Then he remembered all too clearly the men he'd fought for Carmela.
Dear God, he'd killed a man for her, and the experience had left him sickened
and ashamed. Not again. He would not—he
could
not start the whole
wretched business over again. His hand dropped and he felt the hot rage turn to
ice. And somewhere, very faintly, a voice asked if it was some lack in him that
made this happen.

The
thought was not to be borne. He turned and found Alistair was watching him
closely, a look of sly triumph on his face. "Well then, Alistair," he
said coolly. "From what I gather you have no proof that Darnley is planning
to make war upon us."

"No
proof? What of the men he's gathering in haste and secrecy? What about your own
wife sneaking off to meet—"

"The
one may have nothing to do with the other. We don't know. As for my wife—well,
you leave her to me. But I want proof of Darnley's intentions before we make a
move. It shouldn't be hard to get, now, should it? Not for a man with so many
informants. Until I have such proof, this is not to be spoken of and
particularly not to my father. I won't have him worried over nothing."