English, Elizabeth (38 page)

"Sleep
now," Jemmy said. "And don't worry—we'll make it come right."

"Aye,
my lord," she answered quietly, her gaze fixed on the floor. "We can
try."

The
gray light of dawn was just beginning to seep through the window when Jemmy
returned. He stopped outside the door and listened to the muffled voices coming
from within. When he entered he found Alyson seated, Malcolm kneeling before
her with his head in her lap as she stroked his hair. At the sound of his
entrance Malcolm looked up and, seeing who it was, jumped to his feet and stood
protectively before her.

"Get
out," the boy said. "I won't let you hurt her—"

"Malcolm,
'tis all right," Alyson said. "My lord, I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what
to say to him—"

Jemmy
felt sharp remorse as he saw the tracks of tears on Malcolm's cheeks. What a
sorry excuse for an uncle he'd been! He hadn't ever considered Malcolm beyond
thinking that the boy was a problem to be dealt with when he had more time,
more energy. Stephen would have done far better.

He
bent and looked Malcolm in the eye.

"Can
you keep a secret?"

"What
is it?" Malcolm asked suspiciously.

"I'm
taking Mistress Bowden out of here, right now. We're going across the border to
find Lady Maude and bring her back."

"
'Tis true?"

Malcolm
turned to Alyson, and Jemmy thought it was a sorry thing that his own nephew
wouldn't take his word for it.

"Aye,"
she said. "You mustn't tell anyone, though."

"I'm
coming with you."

"You
are not!" Alyson cried.

Jemmy
shook his head. "I'm sorry, Malcolm—"

"My
father would have done it!" Malcolm blazed. "When he was little more
than my age, he stole Darnley's favorite horse right out of his stable!"

Jemmy's
lips twitched. "I remember. And your grandfather blistered his backside
for it."

"Mayhap
he did," Malcolm said stubbornly. "But Grandfather is the one who
told me the story—and he laughed!" He put his hands on his hips and glared
up at Jemmy, defiance blazing in his eyes. "I'll wager Father dinna care
that he was whipped. And I willna moan about it, either. Grandfather can cane
me all he likes—
after
it is done!"

Jemmy
passed a hand across his eyes. "God's blood, 'tis uncanny," he
murmured. "That is
exactly
what your father used to say."

"My
lord, he is a child—" Alyson began. But nobody was listening to her.

"You
must do everything I tell you," Jemmy said, and Malcolm's face lit up.

"I
will. I promise."

"And
you will listen to Donal and Conal, as well," Jemmy added sternly.
"It's a man's work I'm asking you to do. If you cannot follow orders, I'll
send you home."

"I
can do it."

"Then
let's go."

***

Alyson
was relieved to find the two young redheaded knights waiting by the gate with
saddled horses. Jemmy had chosen well, she thought. Of all Kirallen's knights,
the twins were the most outspoken of Jemmy's followers, risking the ire of
their Captain with cheerful nonchalance. At Jemmy's order, one of them— Donal,
Alyson thought, though she was never sure which was which—fetched Malcolm's
pony from the stables. By midmorning they'd reached a stretch of forest outside
Aylsford and halted, concealed among the trees.

"Are
you sure she'll come this way?" Jemmy asked.

"She
always did before."

Before
an hour had passed two riders emerged from the Aylsford gate and moved in their
direction.

"Can
you see?" Alyson asked, peering into the distance.

"Aye,"
Malcolm said. " 'Tis a woman—she's veiled, though, I can't make out her
face."

"That
is Maude," Alyson said. "It must be. Who is that with her?"

"A
boy—he's got red hair."

Alyson
laughed. "I think, my lord, that we're in luck. Unless I miss my guess
that's her brother Haddon."

Jemmy
whistled softly. "I hope you are right. Come on, then, let's go. Are you
ready?"

"Aye,"
she and Malcolm answered together, turning toward their horses. Donal and Conal
nodded and fell in behind them.

They'd
picked the place carefully, a turn in the path that was shielded from the manor
by tall oaks. When the two riders trotted past, they found themselves surrounded.
Jemmy pulled Maude from her saddle and into his, holding her easily as she
fought. At the same moment the two knights drew their horses close to Haddon's,
blocking his escape.

Jemmy
quickly bound Maude's hands and dismounted, lifting her from the saddle and
half carrying her into the wood where he tied her securely to a tree. Then he
dealt with Haddon in the same manner, so quickly that Alyson could scarce
believe it was done.

"Good
morning," she said, stepping forward and pushing the veil back from her
face.

"You?"
Maude shrieked. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't
ask any questions—not now. Just tell me where my brother is."

"Your
brother? How should I know? Do you think I keep account of every wretched
little churl in Aylsford?"

"My
brother is no churl. He is Sir Robert's page and your father's hostage. Where
is he?"

Jemmy
drew his sword and stood next to Alyson. "I suggest you answer her."

"All
right! He's in Sir Robert's chambers—at least, that's where he spends most of
his time, there or in the mews."

"Good,"
Alyson said. "Now we'll untie you—long enough for you to get out of your
clothes."

"My
what? I will not—"

"You
do as Mistress Bowden says," Jemmy said. Maude looked from him to Alyson.
"What is this? I will not—"

"You
will," Alyson said with deadly intensity. "Just be quiet and change
clothes with me."

Malcolm
walked over to Haddon and stood looking at him. So this was the boy who'd dared
to steal sheep from the Laird's own fold! Malcolm had felt a pang of envy when
he heard the tale, imagining that Haddon Darnley must be twice his size and
fierce as the very devil. Now he saw the boy was no bigger than he and didn't
look particularly fierce. In fact, he looked extremely frightened. Malcolm took
out his dagger and leaned close.

"Not
a word out of ye," he said threateningly. "Or you'll be feeling the
blade of my knife."

"You
wouldn't be so brave if I wasn't tied," Haddon replied with a scornful
lift of his chin. "My father says that all of you are cowards."

"Oh,
does he? And he's a fine one to be talking! He was so frightened of my father
that he set a trap for him—couldn't even fight him like a proper man!"

"He
didn't!" Haddon cried. "That's a lie!"

"It's
you who lie—you and all your cursed murdering family!"

"Quiet,"
Jemmy said, stepping forward. "Both of you."

The
boys subsided, glaring. Jemmy sighed. So it went on, generation after
generation.

He
turned to Alyson, who stepped from the trees, wearing Maude's blue velvet
riding surcoat with a blue veil pushed back from her face. "I don't like
this. It's too dangerous."

"I'll
be careful."

"No."

Aylsford
rose over the treetops, black against the sky. It looked formidable,
threatening—the thought of Alyson vanishing within gave him a sick feeling.

"Please,"
she said. "Don't say no—not now. We're so close... Please."

There
had been something bothering him all day, and suddenly he knew what it was.
Alyson had changed since the day she was brought to the council chamber. Then
she had faced them proudly, her back straight and voice steady. Now she stood
humbly before him, her
eyes on the ground. Like a servant. Which was exactly what she was.

One
day, perhaps, she would be something more. Up in the Highlands the stain of bastardy
could be overlooked, so long as Emma McLaran gave the girl her name and the
protection of the clan. But even with that, Alyson could never be a fitting
mate for any man of noble birth. No, she was destined for some wild Highlander
who no doubt would think himself the luckiest of men. And when that happened,
Jemmy would keep far away from both of them. Else he would surely kill the man
who dared lay hands upon his woman...

He
muttered a curse, focusing on the present. Alyson was right. They'd come this
far successfully; surely she deserved the chance to free her brother.

"All
right," he said. "But you have to promise that you'll get out if
there is any danger—any at all. We can think of another way."

"I
will, I promise. Wait for me an hour—if I'm not back then go without me."

She
pulled the veil over her face and mounted Maude's horse, cantering toward the
manor. Jemmy watched her out of sight, then went back into the wood. Malcolm
gave a great sigh of relief when he saw him.

"Can
we go?" he asked. "Where is my aunt?"

"Mistress
Bowden," he corrected gently, "has gone to fetch her brother. We
shall wait for her."

Maude
made an incoherent sound of rage and strained against her bonds. Jemmy took the
gag from her mouth.

"If
you scream, I'll put it back."

She
glared but stayed silent.

He
smiled, stepping back and letting his gaze wander from her head to her feet
then back again. Feature by feature he could trace her resemblance to Alyson,
but the parts added up to a very different sum. The blue- green eyes were like
Alyson's in shape and color, but they completely lacked the mysterious quality
that made Alyson's every expression so entrancing. And while Maude's hair shone
brightly against the tree bark, it did not make him think of sunset after a
storm. Oh, there was no doubt that Maude was lovely. Some might think her
delicate features even more beautiful than Alyson's. But to Jemmy she looked
like a pale copy of her half sister.

"Well,
well," he said. "This is an interesting situation. It's about time I
saw the woman I married."

"Married?"
she cried and he held up the gag. In a lower voice she continued, "We are
not married, and we never will be—"

"Now,
now, my lady. No need to be coy with me. Why, there were a dozen witnesses—the
book was signed by myself, the priest, your father—oh, yes,
wife,"
he
added, his voice hard as steel. "It was all done properly."

"I
would rather die," she hissed vehemently.

"Such
harsh words!" He put his hands over his heart. "Lady, you'll slay me
with your cruelty. But don't worry, sweet Maude, you'll soon grow used to the
idea."

"You
wouldn't dare to touch me—"

"Oh,
wouldn't I? I'd be well within my rights."

She
deserved to be frightened—it was small enough payment for the damage that she'd
done. But when he saw her chin quiver he grew weary of the game. "Don't
worry," he said abruptly. "You're safe enough. For now."

"What
do you plan to do with me?" she asked, lifting her chin in the arrogant
gesture Alyson had caught so well.

"Take
you back to Ravenspur. We'll have to see what happens after that."

"Then
what are we waiting for? Untie me at once and let's begone."

"Not
yet. We'll wait for your sister to return."

"Sister?
She's no sister of mine! I always knew she couldn't see it through—I tried to
tell my father she'd betray us, the filthy slut—"

He
stepped forward, one hand raised. "Keep your mouth shut, or I'll gag you
again. You didn't mind sending her to us to do your dirty work, did you? You or
your father. You never stopped once to think of what might happen to her."

"To
her?" Maude said, genuinely surprised. "What difference does that
make? She's just a servant."

Jemmy
turned away and stopped by Haddon. "Fear not, lad," he said. "No
harm will come to you. You have my word on it."

He
walked to the edge of the clearing and stood looking at the manor. For the
first time in many years he prayed.

***

Robin
was not in Sir Robert's chamber. Alyson walked down the long expanse of
passageway on legs that shook with fear, pulling the veil more closely about
her face. The mews. Pray God he was in the mews, for if he wasn't, she had no
idea where to look next.

"My
lady!"

Alyson
quickened her steps, pretending not to hear. "My lady, wait right
there."

God
help her, it was Becta, who had known Maude since infancy. Alyson's heart
dropped with a thud as the tiring woman approached.

"What
is it?" Alyson answered sharply.

"Ye
dinna mean to go riding! Your father told ye—"

The
woman was within feet of her now. Alyson turned her back and walked away
without answering.