Kathryn Kramer (33 page)

Watching them, t
ears welled up in her eyes.   All Alandra could think was that her worst nightmare had come true.

Chapter Forty-One

It was a seemingly cordial group that awai
ted Nicholas at the entrance to the taproom.  Had he not known the seriousness of the situation, he might have allowed himself to relax.  As it was all his senses were on alert.  He'd learned from experience  to be on  guard at all times, especially where Elizabeth was concerned.  Was the queen really prepared to be fair in her dealings with him or was this going to prove to be some sort of game for her amusement?  The cat cornering the mouse before it sprang.  And what of Owen Stafford?  How long could he be kept on a leash?  

"It was an inordinately tiresome journey.  My every muscle aches and my head is pounding," the diplomat was saying, a man Nicholas knew to be named Thomas Radcliffe, a pliable weak willed old fool.  Just the perfect pawn for Morgana's wiles. "I guess it is a sign of my age."

"Or poor roads,"  Nicholas replied politely, remembering his own discomfort while traveling with the actors' caravan.  "Perhaps some wine or ale will soothe you."

There was a general murmur of agreement, then without another word Radcliffe and the two guardsmen headed for a table in a
corner of the inn's tap room, ogling the tavern maid as they passed  by.  The benches squeaked as they sat down.

"Come along, Nicholas.  There is much to discuss and plans to be made,"  Morgana declared in her high-pitched voice.  "Then once this tedious business is finished we can be alone."

Alone
. The way the woman said that word there could be no mistaking her meaning, Alandra thought as she stood poised in the archway. She felt miserable as she looked on, as out of place as if she were naught but an eavesdropper.   She was certain that Nicholas had forgotten all about her until he tugged at her hand.

"Come, 'Landra.  Anything they have to say you have
every right to hear," he said.

Though Morgana
protested, Nicholas was staunch in his insistence, thus Alandra followed, making it a threesome as they headed for the table.

As if staking her claim to Nicholas,
Morgana positioned herself  next to him on the left.  She strategically placed Thomas Radcliffe to his right.  Alandra sat across the table, sandwiched in between the two guardsman.

"There, now we are all comfortable," Morgana cooed, though her smiles did not extend to Alandra.

"Aye, comfortable," Nicholas said sarcastically.

He had been so impatient to have done with this matter, had been anxious to have word from Elizabeth, but now that the time was at hand he found himself wishing that he could have just let things stand as they were.  There was a certain peacefulness about his life that he knew instinctively was going to end.

Nicholas glanced across the table scrutinizing the two guardsmen with wary curiosity.  One had flaming red hair and a muscular physique, the other was blonde and strong but lithe of frame.  They were young and virile, just the kind of men Morgana and the queen favored.  What would they do if he refused to accompany them back to London?  For just a minute he toyed with the idea, but knew the folly of it.  He had to return or face Elizabeth's potent anger.              

"Girl!"  Morgana took it upon herself to summon the tavern maid, a pretty but seemingly clumsy young woman.  "Wine for me."

Quickly the others gave their decision. Alandra and Thomas Radcliffe chose wine, the others were unanimous in wanting ale. 

"And do hurry,"  Morgana ordered with an impatient flick of her wrist.  "I have suffered that dusty road for hours and I daresay my mouth is as dry as a bone."

The tavern maid bowed in deference, then slipped quickly away, returning with the beverages, in two blinks of an eye as Murray might have said.  The tankards and glasses clanked together as she set them down, and Morgana was quick to chastise the girl for the ale that was spilled, though Alandra knew the reason.  Thomas Radcliffe had pinched the poor tavern maid as she passed by.  So, that was the type of man with whom Nicholas was dealing.   No gentleman he.

"An interesting town,
Bath....."  Radcliffe mumbled, hiding his smile beneath his hand like a mischievous boy.  "Very interesting.  Pretty wenches.  But then I'm sure that you have noticed, Sir Leighton."

Nicholas' eyes touched upon Alandra.  "Any place is interesting when one is with the right company." 

Oh, how he wanted to tell them all what was in his heart, to show his affection openly for the woman he loved, but he found himself in a quandary.  Morgana was by nature a very jealous woman, and he didn't want her to unleash her malice on Alandra just now.  Thus Nicholas remained subdued, though he couldn't help but caress her visually.             

"Ah yes, I suppose."  Thomas Radcliffe looked knowingly from Alandra to Nicholas and back again as if to say "so that is the way it is". 

Though pleasantries and formalities were exchanged there was an underlying sense of uneasiness among the group of people gathered around the table.   The real reason for this meeting seemed to be at the back of everyone's minds.  For a moment there was tension in the air, broken by Morgana's prattling.

"So....you have become an actor."  She turned up her nose at the very thought, a gesture which angered Alandra.  "How  utterly amusing."

"Not amusing at all,"  Alandra countered, coming to his defense.  "Christopher is a very good actor."

"Christopher?"  For a moment Morgana looked stunned, then she broke into peals of high-pitched laughter.  "So that is what she calls you.  Christopher."  She spoke lightly and seemed to expect him to stop looking so serious.

"And I have come to favor that name,"  Nicholas said sincerely.   "And my new profession.  If I have my way, I will stay among the players after this mess is all sorted out."

Morgana looked at him as if he had suddenly lost his mind.  "Stay?  Among a group of wanderers? 
England's foremost swordsman?"

"Thomas Radcliffe repeated her amazement.  "Stay?  BiGod, you cannot, Sir."

Nicholas felt a streak of rebellion, against Morgana, against Elizabeth, against his former way of life.  "Aye, stay!  At least among the actors there is trust and I am not accused of something I did not do." He sipped  his ale cautiously, wanting to keep his head clear for what was to come.

Thomas Radcliffe tired of chit chat and came right to the point.  "You wrote to
Elizabeth in your letter that you have in your custody a witness who will verify your innocence in the matter of Lord Woodcliff's death.  Is that correct?"

Nicholas turned his head so that he was looking directly at Morgana.  "Two witnesses," he answered.

"Two?"  Radcliffe was taken aback.  "You did not speak of other than a man by the name of Will Frizer in your letter."

So,  it is just as I suspected
, Nicholas thought.  Morgana  had selfishly kept silent about being at the Black Unicorn that night, though  her testimony might well have saved him.  Well, they would have it out now. "Frizer's testimony coupled with that of Lord Woodcliff's widow.  She was at the inn."

"Lady Woodcliff was there?"  Thomas Radcliff's jaw dropped open in disbelief.

Though Nicholas could be gentle, there was no tenderness in his hands as he gripped her arm.  She had to speak the truth.  "Tell him, Morgana.  Tell him you were there."

Morgana's eyes were wide pools of feigned innocence.  "Why should I tell him that, Nicholas?"  Reaching up she pried his fin
gers away. "I wish to help you, but I dare not lie. In truth I was with my uncle that night."

A muscle tightened in Nicholas'
s jaw, knowing once and for all how things stood.  "You deceitful bitch!" he swore beneath his breath, just loudly enough for Morgana to hear.  There was a tense silence as he took a draught of his ale, pondering his next move.              

Morgana's face paled
, but she managed to maintain her poise.  "I fear all the excitement has addled Sir Leighton's wits, or perhaps there is some misunderstanding.  I would never go to such a dangerous area of London."

Nicholas studied Morgana. She looked like a lovely, fragile doll but he was not at all
fooled.  Beneath the creamy white skin, the jewels, the velvet and her smiles was a conniving woman.  

"Ah yes, there is a misunderstanding,
Lady
Woodcliff," he said between clenched teeth.  Once they were nearly lovers, now her deceit had made him her enemy.  "A purposeful misunderstanding.  You asked me to meet you there so that we could run away
together
."  There, he had said it.

Ignoring his accusation, Morgana hastened to tell her version of the story, one where she was pursued and not pursuer.  "I would be untruthful if I did not admit to being attracted to Sir Leighton, to Nicholas.  We did share a kiss or two.  He is an extremely handsome man with a charm that is nearly impossible to resist
, but though  he most obviously had it in mind to seduce me, I insisted that we maintain a chaste relationship."

"You, madam?"  Nicholas was furious, remembering all the times she had so willfully tantalized him.  He had been the one to back away.

"But what about the inn?"  Radcliff seemed anxious to hear that story.  "He says you met him there."

Morgana nodded.  "It is true Sir Leighton asked me to meet him at the Black Unicorn that night."

Nicholas grimaced.  "
You
asked me." What a magnificent liar.

Suspicion inched its way up Alandra's spine as she listened.  Why would this woman so blatantly tell such a falsehood?  The answer was clear to Alandra, though she had to admit that her dislike for the woman prejudiced her viewpoint.

In a dramatic gesture that could well have rivaled Richard Burbage,  Morana Woodcliff told her version of all that had happened the night of the masque and of her humiliation at Lord Stafford's "little joke".  She acknowledged the fierce rivalry between the two young noblemen,  pitifully related how she had been caught in the middle.   Dramatically, she put her hands over her eyes  as she did admit to having cried on Nicholas' shoulder.

"But I repeat,  Sir Leighton issued the invitation.  I was tempted, but my loyalty to my husband kept me from going to the inn."

"BiGod!"  She was nearly skilled enough to convince him, Nicholas thought.

Morgan made
a great show of weeping.  "Oh, that I had.  Perhaps had I been there, I might have been able to save my poor husband's life.  But I did not go and for that I will never forgive myself."

Nicholas winced at the twist she gave the tale.  Whether she meant to or not
, in her hurry to vindicate herself  she had thrown suspicion on him anew. 

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed.  He swallowed and visibly regained control of his anger.
             

Alandra clenched her fingers in her lap, trying to ignore the tightening in her stomach, the voice that whispered in her ear that things could
not be going worse for Christopher.  Ah, but there was always Will Frizer.  Thank God for him.  He would soon reveal this scheming blonde for what she was.

Nicholas seemed to sense her thoughts
, for as he raised his eyes to hers he mouthed the name.  "So be it....." he whispered. 

He held tightly to his tankard and scrutinized the reaction of Thomas Radcliff and the guards to Morgana's words.  He was not surprised to see that she had won their sympathy
, nor could he blame them.  The poor bereaved widow.  Once he too might have been taken in by such artful deception but not now, not after basking in the warmth of Alandra's sincerity.

Thomas Radcliff was obviously deeply troubled.  "Is it perhaps possible that you mistook another woman to be Lady Radcliff, another lady with yellow hair?"

Nicholas groaned, dragging his fingers through his thick dark hair. "I made no mistake!"  

"But it was dark, you might have drunk a bit too much ale...."  Thomas Radcliff raised his brows. 

"Not so much that I would not know what I was doing."  Nicholas realized fully now that he must tread very carefully.   "Let me reiterate one major point.  Lord Woodcliff was stabbed from behind.  Such a cowardly deed I would never do!"

"Of course Sir Leighton did not kill my husband.  I never for a moment believed Lord Stafford's story."  Morgana tried to make some amends.  "I said as much to
Elizabeth, but she wouldn't believe me."  Her voice was calm.  Morgana's only show of agitation was that she drummed her fingers on the table as she spoke

"Well, at least you give me that."   Nicholas dragged the conversation back to the matter at hand. "I think it best that you question Will Frizer as to what happened that night."  And hope to God that he would live up to his part of Nicholas' bargain.  "Let him do his part as eye witness.  That is all that I can say." 

And let this blond haired witch beware, lest she be shown for liar that she is
, Alandra thought.

             
Radcliff seemed just as anxious as Nicholas to put end to this matter.  "Indeed, we will speak with this Frizer at once."

Satisfied, Nicholas nodded.  From under the table
, he felt Alandra take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.  The loving gesture calmed him, and he couldn't help believing that with a woman like Alandra believing in him all had to be well in the end.  It had to be. Confidently, he stood up to lead the way to the room where Frizer was being held prisoner .