Medieval Rogues (35 page)

Nay. She had not meant to go so far. She should return to Geoffrey’s side. Savoring the tang of lavender in the calming breeze, she turned to go back to the keep.

Hushed conversation drifted to her.

“I want it done this evening,” a man said. “Without fail.” The familiar nasal voice sent unease racing through her.

Drawing her mantle close to her body, Elizabeth peered around the tree’s trunk. Two figures stood beneath the pear tree. The baron had his back to her. The other person wore a voluminous hooded cloak, which concealed all features.

She hesitated, for she had no right to eavesdrop on a private meeting. Yet, as she watched, the baron reached into his sleeve and withdrew a small object. A silver vial.

“Use half. ’Tis more than enough poison to end de Lanceau’s miserable life, but this time, I want no mistakes.”

Elizabeth clamped her hand over her mouth.

“My payment first,” came a woman’s voice.
Veronique.

“Nay. First, de Lanceau dies, and then Brackendale. You have the dagger?”

“Of course I do.” Veronique tilted her head, her beautiful features illuminated for the briefest moment. “Are you certain that you will have married the little strumpet by then?”

Sedgewick chuckled. “With de Lanceau dead tonight, there will be no further impediment to my marriage. I shall wed the lady on the morrow. Arthur, stupid fool that he is, will be all too delighted that I am willing to save her sullied reputation. He will welcome me with open arms.”

“And she with open legs?” Veronique said with a cruel laugh.

“She will accept me. She will have no choice.”

Shaking, Elizabeth shrank back against the rough tree bark. Fear slashed deep. She must tell her father.

With a swirl of the cloak, Veronique vanished into the shadows. Sedgewick turned and moonlight shone full on his face. He grinned, a merciless twist of his mouth.

Keeping to the darkest shadows, Elizabeth headed toward the keep. A pebble rattled under her foot. She cringed.

“Who is there?” Sedgewick called.

Cold sweat broke on her brow, but she kept walking.

“Elizabeth, my love, is that you?”

The baron’s voice reached her across the path and clawed at her senses. She should have realized ’twould be impossible to hide from him. Her mind screamed with urgency, even as she forced herself to calm. If he did not suspect she had overheard, he would let her be on her way.

Feigning surprise, she faced him. “Baron?”

He closed the distance between them. “I did not expect to find you out here so late this evening. You are alone?”

A ghastly gleam lit his eyes. The stench of him hit her. He smelled evil. Elizabeth forced her lips into a polite, distant smile. “I told Mildred I would be gone for a moment. I needed a little fresh air. She is expecting me back.”

“You left your lover’s side for a night walk in the garden?” He smirked, revealing his chipped, stained teeth. “Why, beloved? To soothe your guilt?”

Her brow knit into a frown. “Guilt?”

“You fornicated with him while betrothed to me.”

Anger warred with her resolve to stay calm and composed. “Baron Sedgewick—”

“Does that not press upon your conscience? Do you not wonder, even for a moment, how the sexual act would be with me?”

A shocked gasp jammed in her throat. “’Tis late. If you will excuse me—”

“Hold.” He stepped closer, and his piggish eyes narrowed on her. “I see fear in your eyes.”

Over the sighing of the wind through the trees, her pulse thundered. She must not admit that she knew his clandestine plans. Fingering aside windblown hair, she said, “I am tired this evening. I bid you good night.”

Before she could bolt, Sedgewick grabbed her arm. “You lie with such sweetness, my love. I pray you are as sweet in our marriage bed with your legs wrapped around my thighs.”

Where he touched, her skin crawled. Revulsion boiled up in her before she thought to caution her words. “I shall never wed you. Never!”

“Such loyalty to de Lanceau. A pity he will die.”

“Murderer!” She gasped at the sudden, bruising pressure on her wrist. Struggling, she tried to free her hand, but the baron tightened his grip.

“So you did overhear. How much? Hmm?”

Denial burned on her tongue, but he would never believe her. She had already condemned herself by calling him a murderer. Now, she must goad him into revealing all of his plans, so that when she got free, she could stop him. “I heard enough to know I hate you.”

“As I hate de Lanceau for taking you from me. Aldwin’s bolt should have killed him, but the poison will finish the deed.” Spittle drizzled from the corner of the baron’s mouth and glistened on his chin. “I hope de Lanceau suffers pain in his last moments, just like his father.”

“How cruel!”

Sedgewick laughed. “Indeed, the squire said the same when I proposed that he shoot de Lanceau.”

“You . . . ?”

The baron studied her. “That startled you. You thought ’twas Aldwin’s idea to fire the crossbow? He soon warmed to my suggestion, though. Once I repeated Veronique’s sordid account of your rape and added a few perversions of my own, Aldwin begged to do it.”

“Aldwin is a man of honor,” Elizabeth bit out. “He would never agree to such treachery.”

“To avenge his lady’s tainted virtue?” Sedgewick sneered. “Aldwin lives and breathes chivalric drivel. Posed to him in the right way, the task appeared noble. A heroic feat, if you will, with the chance to win recognition from your father. Aldwin is an impulsive, ambitious lad. He was perfect for my purposes.”

“Why did you want Geoffrey dead? He had no grievances with you.”

“He touched you,” muttered the baron. “That in itself was enough. Yet, I expected the battle would come down to a duel between him and your father. I knew de Lanceau was the superior fighter, and I could not risk him claiming Wode.” The baron’s gleeful, lecherous gaze roved over her bliaut. “Those lands shall be mine. Through you.”

She shuddered. “By murdering my father?”

He wagged a plump finger. “
I
will not do it.”

“Coward! You shed blood with another’s hand.” She tried to wrench out of his grasp, but failed.

In the shifting moonlight and shadow, his smile turned brutal. “I do what is necessary to get what I want. Accept it. You
will
be my bride, Elizabeth. When your father dies soon after our wedding, all of his lands will fall under my control.
I
shall wield power in the county of Moydenshire.”

“Your logic is flawed, Baron,” she said through her teeth. “According to law, only first born male children can inherit.”

Sedgewick shrugged. “A few well placed bribes, a discreet murder if necessary, and those holdings will become mine.”

Elizabeth trembled. He spoke with such nonchalance. Did he not feel the slightest remorse for taking innocent lives? How she hated him. “You are a detestable, selfish man.”

He jerked her arm, hard, forcing her to stumble. “As I said before, I do what I must.”

His smug tone, rife with depraved ambition, sparked a thought in the back of her mind. “Even blackmail?”

His face registered shock. For the barest instant, his fingers relaxed, and she broke free. Before she had run four steps, he lunged in front of her and blocked her escape. One of his hands clamped on her chin, while the other cinched around her waist and pinned her against his heaving gut. “You are clever, my love.” His fetid breath seared her nostrils. “Too clever.”

She swallowed the urge to vomit. “Release me, or I shall scream.”

With a cruel laugh, Sedgewick forced her face up into the glare of moonlight. He shoved her against the apple tree. “You know too much, beloved. I have been indiscreet with all I have told you. Now I must beat you into silence.”

A whimper escaped her. He meant it. She sensed his seething violence, ready to be unleashed. On her.

“You are wise to fear me.” His hand at her waist yanked her hair, making her neck arch back at a painful angle. Her tresses snagged in the tree’s bark. “With a few good blows, ’twill appear you had a nasty fall during your stroll. Being the devoted husband-to-be, I shall insist on proceeding with our marriage, despite your bruises and broken bones, even if the ceremony must take place at your bedside.” His teeth gleamed. “I
will
see the terms of our marriage contract fulfilled.”

A scream welled inside her.

His sweaty hand slapped over her mouth. “That bastard may have sampled you,”—he planted a slimy kiss on her exposed throat—“but I shall lay claim to your delectable body. And his babe, if his seed took root.”

“Nmmmffff!” She shook her head and fought him, but could not dislodge his hold.

“Did you cry out when he took you?” he said against her ear, and laughed when she struggled. His spit dripped onto her skin. “Did you weep when he tore your maidenhood, or did you moan with pleasure?”

He grabbed her buttocks with both hands, his breaths coming in excited pants.

She screamed.

A sword rasped from its scabbard.

“Sedgewick,” a voice boomed through the darkness. “Let her go. Now.”

Elizabeth sobbed. “Father?”

He strode from the garden’s shadows, moonlight shining off his sword pointed at the baron’s chest. More armed men filtered out of the darkness.

Dominic strode forward, his eyes dark with rage. “If Geoffrey were here, he would cut off your bollocks,” he growled. “If you do not release the lady, I will take the privilege.”

Sedgewick’s arms dropped to his sides. He squeaked a nervous laugh. “’Twas a lover’s spat, milords. No more.”

“Do not heed him,” Elizabeth said, massaging her neck, racked by shivers she could not control. “He paid Veronique to poison Geoffrey. He intends to kill you, Father.”

“As I heard.” Arthur crossed to her side, his weapon still pointed at the baron, and touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

“A-aye.”

The baron chortled and wiped sweat from his nose with his sleeve. “I assure you I did not—”

“I heard all,” Arthur snapped. “Part of your account confirmed what Aldwin told me. I spoke to him”—he looked at Elizabeth—“after I left de Lanceau’s chamber not long ago.”

“Wretched squire,” Sedgewick muttered.

Arthur stepped closer to the baron. The tip of his sword met Sedgewick’s tunic. “I despise de Lanceau too,” Arthur said, “but you are a cruel man indeed to manipulate others to do your evil. If there is any doubt left in your mind, no man of that ilk deserves my daughter’s hand in marriage. Most of all, you.”

Sedgewick’s eyes bulged. “Wait. Milord—”

“Before the guards drag you to the dungeon, I will know why.”

“What do you mean?” The baron looked baffled.

“My daughter guessed the common thread in this mess that I could not.
You
blackmailed the Earl of Druentwode.”

Sedgewick’s mouth pinched.

“Answer me,” Arthur snapped.

To Elizabeth surprise, the baron laughed. “Elizabeth’s assumptions are wrong. I will not confess to what I did not do, and what cannot be proved.”

“On the contrary. The earl sent a box of Geoffrey’s possessions to Wode. The earl did not destroy the writ that exonerated Edouard, as his blackmailer had demanded, but kept it safe. He also enclosed a letter telling how, fraught with guilt over Edouard’s death, he had secured the pardon so that Edouard’s sons would not bear the shame of believing their father was a traitor.”

The baron spat on the ground. “So?”

Arthur’s jaw tightened. “I saw your reaction when Elizabeth spoke of blackmail. She was correct in guessing your guilt. Why, I asked myself, would you have wanted the writ destroyed? Why would you wish to keep Edouard’s innocence secret? ’Tis clear to me now. You framed Edouard.”

Elizabeth gasped.

Fury sparked in the baron’s eyes, as though he could no longer maintain that he was guiltless. “And if I did? Edouard, the fool, would not listen to me. I risked much to take him into my confidence and ask him to support rebellion. He refused and ordered me—”

“The feast!” Elizabeth cried, remembering. “Geoffrey told me that one evening, his father told visiting lords to leave Wode because they tried to sway him to treason.”

Sedgewick’s gaze slid to her. “That night, I saw the depth of Edouard’s loyalty. I knew he would feel honor-bound to betray me to the king, so I betrayed Edouard first. I shed doubt on his allegiance. I convinced the king to order the siege.”

“And I was the ignorant pawn,” Arthur muttered.

“
I
wanted the honor of leading the siege. Yet, the king chose you, an unknown in his court,” Sedgewick said with a scowl. “I knew Edouard, and sought him out during the battle. I had the pleasure of running him through with my sword.”

“Oh, God,” Elizabeth whispered.

The baron made a sound of disgust. “Was I rewarded for helping the king vanquish a traitor? I asked for Wode. The king, however, granted all of Edouard’s properties to Arthur.” Sedgewick’s eyes hardened. “I was denied what I deserved. I waited for the right opportunity to claim it. When Geoffrey de Lanceau threatened Wode, I seized that chance to realize my desires.”