Microsoft Word - Jenny dreamed (34 page)

This night have I used the Anacaiypses for the first time in a decade and Would to God that I had not! My Elainn is no longer. The Englishe seized Her and have tried her falsely for A witche, broken the tender body and consign'd it to the fate of all suche Pityfule creatures. a fiery death at the stake. Her crime was loyalty to the Bruce. She lent support to His cause bye predicting a victory of such magnitude at Bannockburn that her prophece did cheer and raise up the goode Men of Scotland. to his side.

She made no crye as the flames did dance round her. T'was her pride, still unbroke, that kept the Dominican Cedric of Bath from enjoying her last agony. The Victory is assur'd, I saw it e'en as did Elainn and t'will be a Greate and remembered day for all it has cost.

Is't my faulte my belov'd is perished? I can only guess that she knew her Fate the day she gave the accursed crystal into my keep. Would that I Coulde change that moment. Ne'r again will I look in that damnable Windowe, for through it I have Seen my lyfe go out with the last sigh . Her Breath. Cedric, devil that he is, shall pay for this Injustice and pay again until he is wearied ojpaying, then once more!

I have Buried the boxe … what it contains is not the Anacalypses to me now, but Anathema, a curse awaits the Poor people who finds it. To See the future and be unable to stop the Tide of destiny e'en As I was impotent to help my Love. Under the shadows of Grace will it Rest. I praye, untouched but Bye the Devotions of the Eaithjulle, May God have mercy on my Elainn; Her agony has ended, mine only begun.

Jenny was crying when she finished, though whether it was for her own lost love or Thomas's, she was unsure. Anxious to reveal the genius he'd shown in recovering the box Sir Thomas had mentioned, Rodrigo ignored Jenny's open emotion and reached up to the top shelf of the bookcase, gingerly holding the ancient box he'd found. It was still amazingly well preserved, and, as he placed it in front of Jenny and opened it, the odor of cedar seemed as fresh as when it was first made.

Jenny wiped at her tears with the back of one hand; they would not change what had.

happened-an ocean of tears would not. In the background she could hear Rodrigo's voice, as though from a great distance, droning on about the crystal known as the Anacalypses, talking of the prophecies Sir Thomas and his lost love Elainn had seen in it, asking her if she saw any images reflected. At first glance she'd been struck by the beauty of the clear egg-shaped stone. It had sparks of fire, flecks of gold and green, blue and rose dancing within it.

She leaned closer, mesmerized by the crystal and the almost cloudy mist that lay at its center. Suddenly the mist seemed to shift, parting as though a veil was being drawn aside and Jenny's breath caught in her throat as … as she saw Dev's face in profile, his eyes closed, his features as still as death. She was unaware that Rodrigo called out her name, unaware that she seemed to be in a trance; and as Dev's mouth seemed to part in a groan and his eyes fluttered open, Jenny fainted, slipping into the strong hands of her husband, a man whose face showed his clear determination to know what she had seen.

Twenty

The entourage of courtly nobles, guarded closely by a cordon of Rodrigo's cutthroats, wound through the neat, cobbled streets of the town that had sprung up around the walls of the castle of Neowe Erceldoune. Though Jenny was impressed with the unusual cleanliness of the small city and the apparent well-being of its citizens, the ride intensified her feeling of having stepped into the unreal world of a child's storybook land. Only, as far as Jenny could tell, this illusionary tale had no happy ending and the plot's villain rode at her side, with no one to rescue her from his clutches.

They passed throngs of people, none of whom seemed to suffer from any want or need.

Neowe Erceldoune was indeed lovely as the early morning mists burned away and rolled back to the edges of the mountain's steep cliffs. There were no shuns or poorer sections in evidence, no ragged beggars to inhibit them, and even though they might secretly desire to be freed of Rodrigo's rule, no one appeared to be openly rebellious. Even the farmers, in from their fields with fresh produce for the open-air market at the town square, seemed prosperous, dressed in sturdy, if somewhat plain, attire.

Lady Fiona rode at Jenny's left and noting the puzzled expression she wore, leaned closer to explain the background of her subjects. "We've known na' a whit of poverty since my ancestor, Sir Thomas, settled Beann Gowd'en, m'lady, though I'm sure it exists still, where ye're from. From the very first Laird Thomas felt a great duty to those who'd loyally accompanied him here. Until ye'r husband's arrival, it has been a tradition in m' family to be the caretakers of Beann Gowd'en and take responsibility for the welfare of our own."

Jenny offered a smile, pleased with the first mild civility that Fiona had shown her. "Your land is truly lovely, Lady Fiona. I find it no great wonder that your subjects would retain their loyalty under such concerned leadership." She glanced at Rodrigo, riding to her right with an air of haughty indifference to his surroundings.

Fiona's face took on a shuttered look as she dwelt upon her bitterness toward the arrogant interloper who had usurped her authority. For a moment, as Rodrigo suddenly spurred his mount to a gallop and rode to. the front of the party, the hatred she bore him was revealed as she glared icily at his back. "The new Laird is putting tha' loyalty to the test, Lady Jennifer.

Ye're husband has levied a tax on all my people, be they high-born or low." Their pace had slowed because of some obstruction ahead and Fiona pounced on the chance to get in a word of influence with Jenny. Once more she leaned close, her voice hushed as she made a plea. "Can ye naepersuade him otherwise, Lady? T'is clear to all tha' he places a very high value on yel"

Jenny's mouth curled with bitter cynicism. If Fiona only knew the truth of the relationship Jenny shared with Rodrigo, she would not have wasted the breath to even make such a request. "I've no powers of persuasion, Lady Fiona, or else I wouldn't be here. I am my husband's possession, his chattel, as much a prisoner as any of your people, perhaps more of one." She shrugged her shoulders with a helpless gesture. "I have little to offer you but my sympathies." After a moment's pause, she added, "Surely they cannot hold you to blame for such a tax? Until Rodrigo came, there never was such a levy."

"And why should there've been? We've always had an abundance of every luxury, every necessity-what need is there to be overly greedy?" Fiona glanced forward again, her gray eyes narrowed in antagonism., "Greed! T'was what Sir Thomas sought to escape when he came here, and yet, after all these many years, it has sought us out. If I could but gather all the riches in the land, I would do it in a second and be happy to see him gone wi' the lot!"

Jenny shivered at the vehemence in the woman's voice and watched as Fiona gave her horse a savage kick and spurred it forward at a gallop, racing until she reined in at Rodrigo's side. A few moments later the sound of her light, coquettish laughter floated back to Jenny, and she shivered again. That one was as cold and ruthless as Rodrigo himself. Fiona was a lovely young woman, with pale, milky skin and auburn hair. Though she was at least five years older than Jenny, the difference in their ages was not apparent.

Jenny was sure that a certain portion of her antagonism for Rodrigo came from an affair that he, more than likely, had begun and ended. Though she and Fiona had little enough in common except a shared hatred of Rodrigo's high-handed, overbearing ways, Jenny doubted that they could have been friends. When she'd failed to mask her true feelings, Fiona had revealed a malicious cunning as part of her personality, and Jenny was sure she was included in the woman's hatred of Rodrigo.

Deep in her own thoughts, Jenny made no effort to catch up with the other two. What was she doing here? Rodrigo alternately placed her on a pedestal and then ignored her. This tour had been arranged for her benefit, yet the pair who rode ahead, their heads bent together in intimate conversation, seemed to have forgotten her presence.

Except for her bitter memories of Dev's death and the guilt she felt for leading him toward it, Jenny might have believed that the past year was only a dream. Several times since that first night she'd gazed into the crystal. Rodrigo had requested that she "read" for him and give her impressions of the future. She had not been able to tell him much, but the one, recurring image she saw was Dev's face. Did this mean that he was still alive? Jenny couldn't allow herself that hope. Besides, if he were here, in Beann Gowd'en, why hadn't he tried to see her, to make some attempt to rescue her from Rodrigo's cruel possession?

Her hands tightened on the reins, her fingers gripping the pommel of her saddle until they were white with the effort. She must keep herself from speculating, from remembering the security and warmth of Dev's arms. She could go mad with such memories and longings, and that was something she could not now afford. Though she'd lost Dev, she carried his child.

Rodrigo had taken the shocking news calmly enough, extracting a promise from her that he might claim the child's paternity. What else was she to do but agree?

Little noting the passing scenery, Jenny finally shook off her melancholy to find that their party had progressed beyond the town and into the countryside. She drew a sharp breath, astonished by the verdant, rolling fields and pastures that stretched in every direction.

Though Beann Gowd'en lay atop a mountain in the midst of a tropical rain forest, its height above the steaming, humid valley floor made the climate temperate enough to give the land an appearance similar to certain agricultural sections of England. Some tropical trees and plants were in evidence, but the plowed fields were planted with crops that had grown in the settlers' native Scotland. Flocks of sheep were grazing on a nearby hillock, and a young girl was chasing a honking, protesting flock of white geese down the road. The scene was so pastoral that Jenny had the impression she was back home in England.Ahead of them, a large lake shimmered golden in the sunlight, adding to the tranquillity of the area.

Rodrigo's voice, low and annoyingly confident, startled Jenny as his huge stallion danced close to her mount. "It's very much like England, si, Jena? I knew if anyone would appreciate this view, it would be you." His honeyed tone dripped with acid, reminding her without saying so aloud, that she would never be allowed to return to England. She ignored his show of solicitude, preferring to watch the tiny, white-crested waves roll across the water, propelled by a strong wind that had suddenly risen.

Beann Gowd' en was an idyllic spot, a perfect place to spend a lifetime With Dev it would have been a paradise … without him the beauty of the tranquil scene was dulled and meaningless. They were now in full view of the lake, and at her side Rodrigo dismounted and allowed one of his men to lead his charger away to graze, while he reached up to sweep Jenny down from her mare.

Twenty yards to their left, a sturdy wooden dock stretched out almost thirty feet into the blue-gold waters of the lake. Fiona and her attendants were on the dock, preparing to board a small sailing craft moored there. With one of his arms draped possessively about Jenny's shoulders, Rodrigo waved a gentlemanly salute to the departing ladies, bowing politely in their direction before he smiled down at his wife. Despite the arrogance that distorted his strong, swarthy face, setting it in a perpetual sneer or frown, Rodrigo still was as handsome as the day 'she'd met him.. His smile, though, was as always a chilling sight to behold, for there was no amusement in his dark eyes, only an ever-present mockery of everything they beheld.

"Look there, Jena." Rodrigo pointed acrossthe lake to an island at its center, a lush, green outcrop of wooded land almost a quarter of a mile away., Even as they watched, the boat carrying Fiona and her attendants set out toward it, their destination a large manor house that could just be seen through the trees. "That is Lady Fiona's family home, apart from the rooms she keeps at the castle." His smile turned down the comers of his mouth and became a sneer. "I have allowed her to keep her little domain, a sanctuary where she rules supreme.

It affords her a slight feeling of security, I believe."

"How magnanimous you can be, Sire," Jenny remarked sarcastically. "You've already taken everything else that was hers … why hesitate to make her kingdom completely yours?"

Rodrigo ignored the sharp, biting reproof. "I could," he admitted, "I easily could but it serves to keep Fiona in line and anxious to please me." His arm tightened about her shoulders as he led her a short distance along the shoreline, his armed mercenaries hovering a discreet distance away.

"Jena, I am the lord of everything you see or have yet to see. Do not fail to remember that, my dearest wife. Nothing is beneath my notice; every movement you make is reported to me." He released Jenny and stood facing her, then raised her chin with one hand until she was forced to look into his eyes. It was one of his favorite methods of impressing an idea upon her. "No one disobeys me; no one dares defy my strength. From you, most of all, I will not brook any defiance. Is that understood?"

"I believe Napoleon made similar remarks before they exiled him to Elba, m'lord!" Jenny snapped, catching her breath as his fingers bit into the soft skin of her face. "You are a dictator, Rodrigo, not a beloved monarch. All dictators topple eventually, they face death or Elba. I shall preserve my health for that day, for even if I am dragged down with you, I shall enjoy it to the fullest!"

There was an angry white line circling Rodrigo's mouth. For a moment he looked furious enough to strike her, but he'd never done that with an audience. Instead Rodrigo determined to use his body as a weapon to subdue this spirited show of insolent rebellion, and who was there to say nay to Laird Rodrigo? His mouth, those lean sensual lips that knew not the meaning of tenderness, closed on hers with suffocating pressure, allowing her to take no breath and smothering her instinctive resistance until she was nearly faint.