LORD OF DUNKEATHE (23 page)

She took a deep breath. Something had to be done, and by God, it would be. "The two of us will thwart Percival's plan."

Eleanor stared at her with a mixture of wonder, hope and fear. "The two of us? How?"

How indeed?

"I don't think Sir Nicholas is the sort of man to brag about his conquest, and you surely wouldn't," Riona said, thinking aloud, and going by what had already happened between herself and Nicholas, when he had...

She forced those memories away. "All we really have to do is convince Percival you're doing what he wants, that you've managed to become Sir Nicholas's lover without that actually being so."

"How can I do that?"

"You'll have to let Percival see you sneak into Nicholas's bedchamber late at night. You stay a little while, then sneak out again."

Eleanor started to visibly tremble, and her eyes were wide with fear. "What about Sir Nicholas?"

"You go to his chamber when he's already asleep."

"What if he woke up and caught me? And Percival plans to find us together. That could still happen, whether Sir Nicholas knows I'm there or not."

That was, unfortunately, true. It was too much of a risk to send Eleanor to Nicholas's chamber. "I'll go."

"You?" Eleanor exclaimed.

"Me," Riona confirmed. This plan had its own dangers, but not nearly so many for her, and none for Eleanor. "If I wear one of your dresses and scarves, I should be able to fool Percival. We're the same height, and both of us are slim. And he'll be expecdng to see you, not me."

"But what if Sir Nicholas finds you there?"

Indeed, what then? If Nicholas couldn't be forced to marry Eleanor—and she was sure a man like him would resist any such attempt—he certainly wouldn't have any qualms about resisting a marriage to her.

Nor did she wish to marry him, either, of course.

"Even if I should be discovered, and regardless of what Sir Nicholas might say or do, Uncle Fergus would never make me marry against my will."

Studying her intently, Eleanor reached out and clasped Riona's hands in hers. "But if you're found in his chamber at night, your reputation will be tarnished forever. I can't ask you to risk that for me."

Her concern was touching, but unnecessary. "I didn't have suitors lined up at the gates of Glencleith to marry me when I was young, so it's not likely I'll be losing any now. My only worry is that dastardly cousin of yours coming into the chamber and—"

She stopped short as another idea came to her. "You should tell Percival that if he really wants to secure Sir Nicholas, you should get with child."

"With child?"

"Yes, so he shouldn't come into the chamber until you've been together several times."

Eleanor's eyes widened with understanding. "Yes, I see."

Riona believed she did, and understood the plan. "We'll let Percival think you're doing what he wants
until
Nicholas makes his choice and if, by chance, you're not his choice, Uncle Fergus and I will do everything we can to help you then, too, although I don't think that will be necessary. I'm sure that if Sir Nicholas wants to be happily married, he'll choose you, not Joscelind."

Eleanor didn't meet her steadfast gaze. "I'm never going to be able to thank you enough for helping me."

"You're my friend, Eleanor," Riona replied simply, and sincerely. "So tonight you should leave the hall first and wait for me in your chamber."

She thought of another possible problem. "Will you tell Fredella?"

"I don't dare," Eleanor replied. "She'd surely say something to Percival."

"As would Uncle Fergus," Riona replied. "Do you think you can convince Percival you've agreed to do as he wants?"

"I'm sure I can make him believe that I'd almost rather die than go to that convent, because I would."

"Good. Now, we had best get to mass before Percival wonders where you are."

WHEN RIONA reached Eleanor's chamber later that night after a busy day spent supervising the lord of Dunkeathe's kitchen and worrying not just about succeeding in their plan, but about Uncle Fergus's troubles with Fredella, she found an anxious Eleanor waiting.

"Fredella might be back any moment," Eleanor said quietly as Riona slipped inside the chamber illuminated by a single spluttering oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. The rest of the room was in shadows, but there was enough light for Riona to see that it was luxuriously furnished. The bed was covered with pristine linen and a silken cover. Most unexpected was the carpet on the floor, a thing so rare and fine Riona couldn't bring herself to step on it.

"She went to the chapel to pray. About your uncle, I think."

"He's upset, too," Riona said. "He doesn't usually get drunk. I tried to tell Fredella but she only hurried away."

"Every time I start to ask Fredella about him, she begins to cry." Eleanor twisted the dangling ties of her girdle in her fingers. "Riona, I've been thinking and thinking about this, and I've decided I simply can't let you do this for me. It isn't right."

"What Percival wants you to do isn't right," Riona confidently replied. "You mustn't be forced to barter your virginity for marriage at his command. There's much less risk to me sneaking into Sir Nicholas's chamber than there is for you. Don't worry, Eleanor. Everything will be well. What did Percival say when you suggested that he not interrupt?"

"I...I didn't get a chance."

Riona stared at her with dismay. That would be essential to their success.

Panic in her eyes, Eleanor suddenly held up her hand. "Somebody's coming! Hide!"

Riona immediately dropped down on all fours and scrambled under the bed. The stone floor was hard and cold, but she certainly didn't want to have to explain her presence there to anyone, not even Fredella.

The door opened, and Riona watched Percival's gilded red boots march into the room. She immediately prepared to scramble out from under the bed if Eleanor needed her aid.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Eleanor stammered.

"Why did you leave the hall?" Percival slurred, and it was obvious he'd had too much wine.

Riona began to inch out of her hiding place as Eleanor backed away from him. "I—I'm tired, Percival. It's late. Most of the other nobles had
retired
. I saw no need to stay."

"Nicholas was
still
there. He's the only noble you need concern yourself with."

Riona had to move out of the way quickly as Percival sat on the bed. "Don't lie to me. And don't try to refuse to do as we agreed. Time's running out, Eleanor."

"I'm not lying to you, Percival," she said. "But please, I beg of you, don't make me do this. Don't make me sell my virtue."

"I don't give a damn about your virtue!" Percival retorted as he got to his feet and headed toward Eleanor.

Ready to attack him, Riona moved to the edge of the bed again.

He stopped. "You'll go to his chamber and you'll get in his bed and you'll let him take your maidenhead," Percival ordered, "or

God help me, you'll wish you had when you're kneeling in that convent."

"I'll go, Percival," Eleanor replied, weeping. "I don't want to go to a convent. I'll do as you say. I'll go to Sir Nicholas tonight."

"Good. Don't you have something else to wear, something that shows your figure to more advantage—something like Joscelind wears?"

"There's my scarlet damask—"

"And don't wear a shift."

"Percival!"

Scorn fairly dripped from his words. "This is no time to be subde."

"Very well, Percival," Eleanor despondently replied.

The red boots started toward the door.

"Percival?" Eleanor said, sniffling. "What if I get with child?"

"What?"

"What if I get with child?" she repeated. "People will be able to count back the days. They'll know—"

"Damn it, who cares if they can count, as long as you're married to him when the brat is born?" Percival approached her again. "Indeed, if we're to be certain of him, a child could be the very thing."

A seemingly endless moment of silence followed.

"I've changed my mind, cousin. I won't interrupt you tonight. How long until your next...?"

"A fortnight," Eleanor answered forlornly.

"Then let's pray you're fertile, for if you get with child, that will be all the more reason for him to marry you. Get him to love you more than once a night, if you can. I'm sure he's capable." Percival tapped his toe. "Perhaps I should give you some suggestions."

"Fredella could be here any moment," Eleanor noted
quietly
, and much to Riona's relief. The last thing she wanted to hear was Percival's suggestions.

"That old hag," Percival muttered as he again started for the door. "You'd better please Sir Nicholas, so he lets her stay here, too." He paused. "You needn't look like a martyr, my dear. I doubt you'll regret what must be done, provided he marries you, of course.
Rumour
has it that Nicholas of Dunkeathe is quite the lover."

"Yes, Percival."

The door opened. "I'll be watching for you," he finished as he strolled out the door.

Riona crawled out from under the bed as Eleanor started to cry again.

"I feel so filthy," she said, her breath catching with her sobs. "How can he do this to me? How can he treat my virtue as something to be so easily thrown away?"

"Because he has no
honour
himself," Riona said, putting her arm around her friend's shoulder. "You're very clever, letting him think not interrupting was his idea."

Eleanor smiled tremulously, then grew grave again as she went to the chest at the foot of the bed and opened the lid. She lifted out a gown of sumptuous scarlet silk damask, with a rounded neckline and wide gored skirt. In the moonlight, it seemed to move and shift like a living thing. Riona had never seen so
beautiful
a dress in all her life, let alone put one on.

"I think it should fit," Eleanor said.

Riona thought it would, too, as she took off her simple
woollen
gown and reached out for the scarlet d
ress, taking hold of it reverentl
y.

"When this is over, you're welcome to it."

Riona shook her head. "It's too fine for me."

"I insist," Eleanor said with a spark of determination as she helped Riona pull it over her head and down into place over her shift.

"Oh dear," Eleanor murmured.

"It fits well enough," Riona said, although it was a little tight.

"You can see your shift. It shows above the neck. If Percival sees that, he might stop you, to remind you of what he said about not wearing a shift. He'll find out it isn't me."

Riona didn't hesitate. "So I'll take off my shift," she said as she removed the gown.

While she laid it on the bed, Eleanor wordlessly, and delicately, turned away. Riona divested herself of her shift and swiftly put on the gown again. She hadn't noticed before how low the neckline was. No wonder Percival thought this would do for a seduction. It was also a snug fit, and when Eleanor tied the laces, the back of the gown wouldn't close completely. Riona could feel the air, cool on her skin.

"I don't dare bend over," she said. "I'll tear the laces."

"The veil should cover the gaps," Eleanor said, going to another chest and bringing out a long, white piece of cloth and a circlet of gold. The circlet, too, was a thing of beauty, made of entwined strips of the metal that shone in the moonlight.

Eleanor put the fabric on Riona's head, and then the circlet to hold it in place. "I think you might really be able to fool Percival," she said as she stepped back to run her gaze over Riona. "Except for those shoes. You'll have to wear a pair of my slippers."

Eleanor fetched two soft calf slippers, finely worked, and went down on one knee. "Give me your foot. I'll be your maidservant."

Riona smiled at that, and to hide her own growing nervousness. When she'd proposed this plan, it had seemed simple enough, and she'd truly believed she could sneak into Nicholas's room without being discovered.

But now, when it came to it, she wasn't so sure. What if Nicholas woke up? What if he wasn't yet in his bedchamber, and entered while she was hiding there? She could always hide under his bed, she supposed, until he was asleep.

"There, you're ready," Eleanor said, rising and stepping back.

When she frowned, Riona wondered what else might be amiss.

"If you don't want to go, Riona, I won't hold it against you," Eleanor said softly.

Riona gave her a comforting smile and imitated Uncle Fergus's jovial manner as she went to the door. "Don't worry, I'll be safe. Besides, when else would I have a chance to wear a gown like this?"

Once she made sure the corridor was clear, Riona crept out of the chamber and prepared to play her part.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A SHIVER RAN DOWN Riona's back as she quickly and
quietly
hurried past the door of Percival's chamber. It was open enough to allow a shaft of candlelight to waver on the floor, telling her that Percival was there and waiting. Keeping as close to the far wall as possible, she was very glad that there was no torch in a sconce nearby to light her face.

Her hand trembled as she pushed down on the latch of Nicholas's chamber door and slowly eased it open. Even more carefully, she slipped inside, then closed the door behind her.

A hand clamped over her mouth, an arm went around her like a band of iron, and she was dragged backward. Struggling, she collided with a body. A man's body.

Sir Nicholas of Dunkeathe's voice growled in her ear. "I won't be seduced into choosing a bride, Joscelind, even by someone as
beautiful
as you." He loosened his hold. "Now go back to your chamber," he ordered,
gently
pushing her away.

Whatever happened, Riona couldn't leave. Otherwise, Percival would know that his plan was a failure and Eleanor would be in jeopardy.

"I'm not Joscelind," she said as she faced him.

As he stood in the moonlight coming in through his window, he stared at her as if she were an apparition, while she regarded him with steady determination.

She must have interrupted him as he prepared for bed. He wore only an unlaced shirt that fell to mid
thigh, and those thighs were encased in tight-fitting
woollen
breeches. He had on his old, scuffed boots, which perhaps explained why she hadn't heard him creep up on her.

"I'm not here to seduce you," she declared, both for him, and for herself.

His gaze flicked down to her breasts in the
tight
gown and against her will, she felt her body respond—the softening of the tension, the pebbling of her nipples against the fine fabric.

"What are you doing here then?" he demanded, his voice low and husky. "That gown seems designed for no other purpose than seduction."

She forced herself to concentrate on the real reason for her presence there. Having been discovered, she had
little
choice but to tell him the truth, and hope that she could prevail upon him to help Eleanor. "It was a necessary disguise and the reason for it will become clear as I explain."

He made a sweeping gesture toward the one and only chair. "By all means, my lady, sit and explain."

She moved farther into the room, away from him, and focused her attention on her surroundings. The chamber wasn't as large as she'd expected for the lord of the
castle
, and was distinctiy spartan, more befitting a soldier than a nobleman. The single chair had a high, plain back and no cushion. A candle
stand and brazier stood together in a corner as if they were simply stored there. Other furnishings included a very battered and chipped chest and a simple wooden table with basin and ewer.

In fact, the only thing that signified she was in a lord's chamber was the bed—a very big bed, hung with thick curtains and sporting a coverlet that shimmered in the moonlight, as if it were made of silk.

"I have had my fill of sleeping on the ground, in haystacks or on cots with my feet hanging over the end," he said.

Silently cursing herself for staring as if she'd never seen a bed before—even though, in truth, she'd never seen one quite like that —she flushed and hurried to take the chair.

Nicholas sat on the end of the bed and crossed his arms. "So, my lady, why are you here?"

"For Eleanor's sake."

He coolly raised a brow. "How does coming into my bedchamber dressed as you are benefit Eleanor?"

"It's necessary for Percival to think she's been here."

Resolved to speak plainly, Riona rose to face him. "Her cousin is determined that you marry her, so much so that he's commanded her to seduce you. If she fails, Percival says he'll send her away to a convent. Being a good and
honour
able woman, Eleanor was rightly appalled by the idea, but she didn't know what to do, so—"

"So she came to you." It was a statement, not a question.

Did he think that wise or foolish? She couldn't tell; his features revealed nothing of his thoughts. "Yes," she admitted, continuing with her explanation. "We decided to trick Percival into thinking she was complying with his command until you make your choice."

"And what was to happen if and when I discovered you in my bedchamber?"

Riona tried to sound as calm as he, but it wasn't easy. Yet Eleanor's fate was more important than any discomfort—or anything else—she felt in the lord of Dunkeathe's presence. "I thought that wouldn't happen."

"A pity you didn't realize soldiers learn to sleep
lightly
and dress quickly."

She ran a swift gaze over him. "No, I hadn't anticipated that."

"And if you were found trying to get into my bedchamber, or alone with me? What then, my lady?"

Here she was on safer ground. "I knew there was no chance we could be shamed into marriage, or forced to wed. My uncle would never make me marry against my will."

"I see," he replied. His brow rose, as if they were discussing nothing more important than a change in the weather. "I trust Lady Eleanor is suitably grateful that you're willing to risk your reputation for her sake?"

She'd had enough of trying to stay calm and composed. She'd make him appreciate that Eleanor was in serious jeopardy, and it was his fault, too. "Yes, she is—but it was a risk I was glad to take, because Percival's also told her that if she cannot persuade you to bed her, he will."

As she'd hoped, Nicholas ceased to look calm, but she hadn't expected to see the murderous rage that came to his face as he swiftly got to his feet. His eyes seemed to burn with it, his whole body to throb with ire. He strode to the chest and grabbed the sword and scabbard laying atop it. "By God, I'll make the man a eunuch."

Believing he would do it, she ran to block the door. "As much as I'd like to see him punished, too, he's her legal guardian. He has powerful friends, as you know, and he's vicious, which you might

not. If you hurt him, he may not take it out on you, but on Eleanor."

"Then I'll just kill him."

"No!" she cried, putting her hands on his broad chest and pushing him back. It was like trying to move a stone wall, yet she persisted. "Curb your rage and think! That might only make things worse for both of you. What of your future that concerns you so much? Percival's influential friends would surely turn against you.