Lords of Darkness and Shadow (88 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

BOOK: Lords of Darkness and Shadow
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She was torn between responding to his kisses and the verity of her fears. “But someone might see us together,” she said. “Even now, someone might be watching. ‘Tis not safe.”

He sighed, kissing her a final time. “I know,” he replied with regret. “Which is why our meetings have been irregular and, at times, brief.  I do not know when I will see you next. It may be tomorrow, or it may be weeks away.  Even now, I have been gone overlong from my post. But I consider the risk well worth the reward.”

She shook her head. “You must go back immediately.”

“I will, in time.”

It was obvious he had no intention of releasing her any time soon. She pulled from his embrace, grasped his arm, and tried to turn him around. “You will go
no
w. Please.”

He grinned, allowing her to lead him away from the shadows of the wall. “Aye, captain.”

By the time they were half-way into the winter-dry yard, she had taken her hands from him and they were a respectable distance apart. There could very well be eyes on them now and they were both acutely aware.

“The king will announce a masque to be given in honor of his wife’s birthday sometime next week,” he said, his demeanor having returned to that of a predator as they crossed the compound. His gaze was everywhere, scanning. “You will attend this masque.”

She glanced sidelong at him. “I will?”

“Aye. As will I. In costume, ‘twill be a simple thing to steal a dance or a kiss. And I should enjoy the time with you.”

“I will not see you between now and then?”

“I did not say that. You will indeed see me, at some point.”

They walked in silence, nearing the Flint Tower. Finally, she came to a halt. “Sean, I must say something.”

He paused. “What?”

Her face grew serious. “I… I would rather not see you again if the discovery of our association would lead to your execution.  As much as it would pain me, I would rather have you alive and untouchable than a dead memory.”

The mood between them grew solemn. His gaze lingered on her a moment, choosing his words carefully before he spoke.

“I told you once that the one trait that ignited my interest in you, other than your beauty, was your kindness. You were kind to me from the very first moment you looked into my eyes.   Before you even knew my name, you were gracious, and even after you knew who I was, your civility continued.  Even if you had been a plain, unassuming woman, I would have found your depth of character extraordinarily attractive.  You, my lady, have a beautiful heart.”

Her lovely cheeks flushed. “Your words humble me, my lord. But you must know that I mean what I say. I cannot even fathom the agony and guilt that your demise would bring me. I would be like Alys, attempting to throw myself from a window simply to rid myself of the anguish.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I have no intention of allowing death to claim me any time soon. To not have you in my life, at my side, would be more painful than any death I can imagine.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Have no fear, Lady Sheridan St. James. We will both live long, healthy lives together.”

His kiss brought tears to her eyes.  She’d known the man’s affections hardly a few days and already she could not imagine being without him. With a wink, he left her standing there, watching him disappear into one of the doors that lead to the barracks flanking the Flint Tower. 

 

***

 

“Siege is imminent. We are withdrawing the nobles from the Tower so that they may join their troops.”

“Even Sheridan St. James?”

“Especially Sheridan St. James. God only knows what would happen to her should she be left behind. It is imperative that she get out immediately.”

The bell tower of Winchester Cathedral had been a convenient meeting place time and time again. The king was in the sanctuary at Vespers and Sean, as usual, was prowling the grounds in search of any threat against the monarch. That was usual wherever the king went. Only this time, he had paused in his duties long enough to make a pre-arranged contact. It had been conveniently arranged to coincide with the mass. What he heard so far had him ill to his stomach.

He signed heavily. “I told her to leave.”

“Did you tell her why?”

“Of course not.”

“Did she agree?”

Sean leaned back against the ceiling truss in the low-ceilinged room. “She did not have the opportunity. We became… sidetracked.”

The figure behind the bell, well off in the shadows, would not have hay on his clothing tonight.  The last time they had met, he’d neglected to see the grass until someone had pointed it out to him, hours later.  It had been a foolish error. Tonight there would be no such opportunity for one.

“Sean,” the shadow-figure began. “I do not know the extent of your involvement with Lady Sheridan, but if it is what I believe it is, then you must curb yourself. We have reached a critical point in our endeavors and I cannot have you distracted.”

“It is not a distraction,” Sean replied steadily. “We are to be wed when all of this madness is finished.”

“Wed?” the figure repeated, incredulous. “Are you mad? You cannot marry the woman.”

“I can and I will.”

“Jocelin will never allow it.”

“Jocelin will approve when all is said and done.”

There was fidgeting and grunts of disbelief coming from the shadows. “So you believe that your service warrants the earldom of Bath and Glastonbury? Not that I disagree, but you picked a mighty difficult goal. To aim for Sheridan St. James is, shall we say, reaching for the heavens. She is gloriously wealthy and well supported by the Bishop.”

Sean picked at the beam above his head. “This isn’t about the damn earldom,” he said, disgust in his voice. “She could have only the clothes on her back for all I care. She is a deeply compassionate and courageous woman, and I greatly admire her. That is why I am marrying her, and for no other reason.”

“Don’t tell me that you believe yourself in love with her?” the voice was cold.

“If not now, then I very shortly will be.”

“Sean, Sean,” the voice moaned, sing-song. “We cannot have this complication. Twenty thousand men are preparing to capture London as we speak. I need your head clear, not addled like a foolish child’s. I swear on the grave of St. George that I’ll remove Sheridan St. James myself and hide her from you until this is all over if you do not focus on the tasks at hand.  You have come too far to fail now.”

“I’ll not fail,” Sean said evenly. “And you’ll not touch Sheridan. If I catch wind of you so much as looking at her, you’ll rue the day you were born. She is not a pawn to be trifled with.”

“Even as your threats fill my ears, that statement alone tells me that you are already in love with her,” the voice replied.  He sighed deeply, shifting in the shadows as he collected more pressing thoughts. “All that aside, she must leave the Tower. She will probably take it more seriously if Jocelin or one of the other nobles forces her to move.”

Sean nodded. “That is where the directive must come. When I told her, I simply sounded like a jealous lover.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Jealous?”

Sean hissed, running his fingers through his hair. “Probably. I saw young de Braose escort her back to her apartment the other night and was fully prepared gut him.”

There was a pregnant pause, long and solemn. “Then you should know that Reginald was in negotiations with Henry St. James before his death to marry Guy to Sheridan, though she does not know it. Since she had refused all suitors up until that point, Henry thought it best not to tell her.”

Sean felt as if he’d been slapped. ‘Who told you this?”

“Jocelin.”

“Are negotiations still ongoing?”

“Aye. That is why Reginald sent Guy to London, among other reasons. It was Reginald and Henry’s hope that once Sheridan met Guy, she would more readily accept him as a suitor.”

Sean didn’t have a ready reply. He just stood there. After a moment, he hit the beam above his head so hard that the entire bell tower shook. Sawdust and other flotsam floated down in the still air, landing on the floor, in his hair, on the bell.  His jaw flexed dangerously, the clear blue eyes distant and hard. 

“Never in my life have I ever wanted anything other than to serve the cause,” he growled. “Since I was seventeen years of age, I have been completely selfless and dedicated to my task. You have seen nothing but flawless duty from me and it was because I had convinced myself that someday, I would be rewarded for my service. I knew this world would pass away and a new England would take hold where I would not have to stay to the shadows, where I would not be feared and loathed, and where I would not have to defend my life every moment of every day.  Now, when I can see the light at the end of the road and I have found the only thing I have ever wanted, you are telling me that I am going to have to fight for this, too?”

The tone of the voice was patient, understanding.  “I am not saying you will have to fight for this. I am simply telling you that there is competition. Did you suspect for one moment that there was not? Sheridan St. James is a beautiful, wealthy woman.”

“She has a sister,” Sean snapped softly. “Give Alys to de Braose. He’ll still gain a fortune.”

“In spite of what you may think, Guy de Braose is a fine young man. He is brave and level-headed. And from what Jocelin has told me, he is quite enamored with Sheridan.”

Sean growled and the voice spoke quickly. “It’s not his fault, Sean. He does not know of your interest, as no one does. I suspect you intend it that way, do you not?”

Sean stood there a moment, pounding the beam absently as he mulled over his thoughts and the words of wisdom from the shadows. “It is,” he finally said. “No one can know, for obvious reasons.”

“Then do not be hard on de Braose. You cannot fault the man his good taste.”

Sean just rolled his eyes. There was resignation in his posture as he stepped away from the beam. “It is not as if my family is not as old or prestigious as the House of de Braose,” he muttered. “My family, in fact, has been here far longer than the Norman usurpers.”

The man behind the voice knew Sean well.  He knew that de Lara was a man of impeccable character, of flawless devotion, and of singular mind when it came to King and duty.  He’d never once asked for compensation or reward for the deadly task he had undertaken nine years ago.  The words coming forth from de Lara at the moment were words of self-pity, of emotion. The man behind the voice was shocked at the depth he was witnessing.

“I know that very well,” he said. “You can trace your lineage back six hundred years to the ancient kings of Deira. Your father was Viscount Darlington and your elder sister married into the Umfravilles of Prudhoe Castle, heirs to Northumberland.  Your father’s title and lands have passed to you since his death, including Stonegrave Castle.  But because of your devotion to duty, the castle has stood unoccupied for six years, alone, waiting for your return.”

Sean slapped the beam again, unexpectedly and sharply. “ Exactly. Because my commitment to the cause was more important to me than assuming my rights as Viscount Darlington.  And for what? To be told that all of this has been for naught, that what I truly want in reward for my service might very well be denied to me because you apparently don’t trust that I can keep my focus on the cause? I find that offensive. I have given up more than anyone for what I believe in. You have no right to deny me what I want.”

“No one is denying you,” the voice said calmly. “But you must look at all angles. Your timing is poor. We must focus on what is most important right now.”

“Is my sense of duty being called into question?”

“Most certainly not.”

“I will not give up Lady Sheridan.”
The voice, once again, sighed heavily. There was no getting around the subject. Men in love could be the most stubborn creatures on the face of the earth.

“As you say,” the voice said. “But she must leave the Tower at once, for her own safety.  I will instruct Jocelin to make it so. Now, may we speak on other matters?”

Sean was broodingly silent, his mind a clutter of thought and emotions. He was unused to such disorder.  “Aye,” he finally said.

“Tell me of the king.”

“He knows that something is amiss. He knows of Rochester’s meeting with Salisbury.”

“Has he gone so far as to rally his troops?”

“Not yet.”

“You cannot let him, Sean. And you cannot let him leave the Tower.”

“Understood.”

“What is his troop strength?”

Sean pushed himself off the wall, crossing his massive arms as he spoke. “Warwick and Percy have a massive contingency from the north between them. They are nearing Coventry from what I am told, at least one week away. Suffolk has a thousand men to the east within a day’s ride, as does Norfolk. William Fitz Osbern has brought his entire regiment from Monmouth, about eight hundred men.  Plus the royal troops, there are nearly five thousand men in or around London that will oppose the siege.”

The voice snorted. “We will crush them.”

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