The Highwayman (15 page)

* * * *

“I
will
have her back,” Burke said.

Rory threw up his hands. “You’ve lost your mind and no mistake. It’s over, Kevin. She is with her own people and better off for all of that. Let it go, man.”

“Do you love her?” Aidan asked his brother quietly.

“I ken I must,” Burke replied. “What other can this be? I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I think of her every minute, and I’ve gone off other women as if I’d taken holy orders.”

“Even Deirdre?” Aidan asked.

“Haven’t you seen her pining away all over the camp for lack of encouragement?” Rory asked.

“So you love the English girl,” Aidan said. “And you gave her up for me, so I will help you get her back.”

Rory stared at Aidan as if he’d announced he was joining forces with Essex. “Don’t encourage him in this folly!”

“I’ll watch the castle and find out where they’re keeping her,” Aidan said. “Are you certain they haven’t shipped her off to England yet?”

“No boats have left since she went back to Inverary with her uncle,” Burke said.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult a task to locate her within the castle. After that we’ll plan the rest.”

“What rest?” Rory called after Aidan as he departed. Then he turned to Burke, who sat brooding on a tree stump, chin in hand. “You’re not thinking of taking her again?” he asked.

Burke met his eyes, then looked away.

“By force?” Rory demanded. “What makes you think she’d come willingly? She was none too happy with you when she left.”

“I’ll see her first and explain.”

“You’ll see her where? In Carberry’s reception hall? Will you show up at the gates, peasant cap in hand, and ask His Lordship for an audience? Kevin, leave off this madness now before you get us all killed over this slip of a girl!”

Burke stood and walked away a few steps and then turned to face his cousin. “Rory, I think we’ve had this talk already, have we not?”

Rory made a dismissive gesture.

Burke held up his hand. “How long have we been fighting the English now?” he asked. “Ten, maybe twelve years? And in all that time, have I ever departed from the path to our goal? What, in all those days and weeks and months, have I asked for myself?”

Rory examined him in silence. They both knew the answer.

“I want this woman,” Burke said quietly. “It may be folly, as you say, but I will not let her go back to England without trying to see her and keep her with me. Now, if you won’t help me, at least stay silent on the subject.”

Rory sighed heavily and passed his hand over his eyes. “I’ll help you,” he finally said.

“Good. Now come along and we’ll work on a plan.”

Rory followed Burke back toward the camp.

* * * *

Two weeks passed, during which Alex pricked her fingers attempting the needlepoint that Carberry’s servants supplied, read the reformation religious tracts that made up the castle library, and stared out of the window. The weather was unfavorable for sailing or she probably would have been packed off to England immediately. No boats were going until the spring rains subsided entirely. This meant that mail did not reach them either, so Lord Essex was of uncertain mind as to the full extent of his queen’s displeasure. He continued the failing campaign, losing more men by the day, and an aura of gloom pervaded Inverary.

Alex found it difficult to sleep, spending her nights recalling her time with Burke, and on one such night she lay awake with the shutters open to the spring breeze. She could tell the passing of the hours by the calls of the sentries on the leads. It was past three in the morning by her count when she heard a noise at the window.

She sat up in bed, peering into the darkness, illuminated only by the dying fire at the other end of the chamber. Her first thought was that a bird was trapped between the shutter and the wall, as sometimes happened. Then there was a louder thud as a figure jumped from the parapet into the room.

“Don’t scream,” a low voice said. It was Burke.

Alex scrambled out of the bed and flung herself on him, only to discover that he was soaking wet.

“Run and bar the door,” he said, pushing her away and pulling his drenched tunic over his head. Alex did as she was bid, shoving home the heavy wooden crossbar and then rushing back to embrace him, pulling his head down and covering his face with kisses.

“What kept you so long from me? I thought you would never get here, that you had abandoned me.”

“Come away from the window,” he said, taking her arm and leading her toward the bed. Only then did he embrace her, holding her close to his damp, chilled skin, kissing her cheek, her hair, and finally her mouth. His fingers fumbled with the drawstring neck of the lawn gown she wore, and it was soon puddled at their feet. He sought her breasts with his hands, then with his mouth, as he lifted her and set her back on the bed. Alex tugged at his tight leggings, the wet material fighting her. She yanked on them in frustration until he put her hands away and undressed himself. When he joined her she twined her limbs around him and wrestled him into position, desire giving her a strength that surprised and delighted him. When he entered her she moaned with satisfaction and he covered her mouth with his hand, then his lips.

It was over quickly, both of them too starved for niceties, and they collapsed, panting, in each other’s arms. When he could talk once more, Burke whispered, “I’m wondering what became of that trembling virgin I once knew?”

Alex yawned. “Sir, you have corrupted me.”

“Madam, how you talk.”

She curled her arms around his neck and settled against his shoulder. “However did you get here?”

“I swam the moat and climbed the first parapet, then slipped down into the kitchens and up the inside stairs. From there I waited for the sentry to pass, and crawled out on the leads to your room.”

She had forgotten that he knew the castle well, from his childhood. “How could you tell which room it was?”

“Aidan scouted it for me, but the tower always seemed much the best choice to keep you close. I didn’t think that in your case Cummings would choose the dungeon.”

“Oh, and why so long?” she murmured, turning her head to press her lips to his throat. “I’ve been going mad here, thinking all sorts of awful things, first among them that you had resolved to let me go and I’d never see you again.”

He tightened his arm around her. “I had to wait for the dark of the moon, else the sentry would have seen me cross the water.” She felt him stir slightly as he drew the coverlet over them. “And I wasn’t sure of my reception.”

“Did you think I would turn you away?”

“You weren’t speaking to me when you left.”

“Well, why didn’t you comfort me, say that you would come after me?”

“The less you knew, my lady, the less your uncle could ferret out of you.” Alex thought about her outburst during her last conversation with that venerable man and knew Burke was right.

“What happens now?”

“Are you still of the same mind, to stay with me?” In the uncertain firelight, his eyes flashed like gemstones when he changed the direction of his glance.

Alex stroked the slight cleft in his chin. “How can you even ask me that?”

He shrugged. “Once you were gone, I was . . . unsure.”

“Did you think I’d go back happily to the life I had before? Prayer services and tutorials and stitching coverlets?”

“Regular meals and a warm bed and safety from all storms,” he countered.

“None of that matters. I craved your presence so much I thought I would die!”

“Truly?”

“Truly. And this I missed most of all,” she said, stripping back the coverlet and falling on his naked body.

He laughed. “I’ve never awakened a virgin before. I must do it again.”

“Never!” she said, sitting astride him. “Never again with anyone else. Promise me!”

“Never is a fearful long time.”

“Promise!” she said, stroking him.

He closed his eyes.

“Well?”

“I promise.” He pulled her onto him.

“And we won’t be separated for the rest of our lives.”

“Not by me,” he replied, rolling her under him.

Alex gave herself up to pleasure, and it was only later, when she was curled against him again, that he realized she was crying.

“What?” he said, touching her wet face.

“I missed you horribly. I didn’t want to live. We will make very sure we aren’t parted again.”

“Then we must plan.” He folded his arms behind his head thoughtfully. “If your uncle has no real regard for you, as you’ve said, what matter to him if you remain in Ireland?”

“As the consort of the queen’s enemy? You jest. Appearances are everything to him. He’d lock me in a cell and toss the key in the Thames before he’d have it known that his ward was so careless of his wants and his name.”

“And if it were not known?”

She looked at him and smiled.

“In secret, then,” he said.

Alex nodded. “Unless you want to fight it out.”

“He won’t come after you a second time?”

“Not the first time, either, if Essex hadn’t been aware of the situation. I’ll just disappear and he will say, ‘Silly girl, such a shame,’ and add the cost of my keep back into his estate. A mysterious disappearance he could bide, but not my open choice to stay with you. They’ll all be leaving Ireland soon anyway, they talk of nothing else at the castle. Essex is expected to be recalled at any moment.”

He was staring past her shoulder. “So I’ll come again tomorrow, this same time, and leave two horses tethered in the woods.”

“Why not tonight?”

“The best time has already passed. The lazy sentry who never walks his whole route falls asleep each night between two and three. We must wait for him again. And it must be tomorrow, because after then the moonlight will return.”

“If I meet you at the kitchen entrance, it’s an easy path from there,” she said, excitement creeping into her voice.

“Is there kitchen staff through the night?”

Alex shook her head. “They come in at six to start the cooking fires. Until then it will be empty.”

“Are you afraid of heights?”

“A little.”

“No matter. The drop from the kitchen level is small, I can take you on my back. Can you swim?”

“Yes, but I haven’t for a long time. Is the moat very deep?”

“Deep enough, but no concern if you stay on the surface.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any way we could go out by the bridge,” Alex said wistfully.

He stared at her.

“Disguises?”

He continued to stare.

“I have no confidence about this plan,” she admitted.

“Leave it all to me.”

There was a knock on the door to the hall.

Burke and Alex exchanged alarmed glances.

“What is it?” Alex called, holding her finger to his lips.

“I’ve been sent by your uncle to check on you, miss,” a woman’s voice answered.

Alex pointed to the bed, and Burke dove under the covers, curling into a ball. She bunched the coverlet to disguise him, but he was a big object to hide. For good measure she went to the standing storage wardrobe and grabbed a few of Lady Carberry’s gowns, which smelled strongly of the pomanders hung in their midst to preserve them. She tossed them on top of Burke. At the last moment, she snatched his clothes up from the floor, scattering the rushes, and threw them under the bed. Pulling her nightgown back over her head she went to the door and eased back the bolt to admit her visitor.

“Are you all right, miss?” the servant asked.

“Yes, of course. Why not?”

“Your uncle gave me to understand you were sleeping poorly. He thought a glass of honeyed cow’s milk might go well.” She indicated the tray she carried.

He thought a bit of spying might go well, you mean, Alex thought. “I haven’t been sleeping well, it’s true,” she replied, “and so I’ve been arranging your late mistress’s warm-weather clothes to pass the time, as you can see. I was told to take of them what I wished. But I am fine. I’ll take the milk and you can go.”

The woman set the tray by the fire and turned to look at Alex with a puzzled expression.

“Well?” Alex wanted to drive the wretch from the room with a spade.

“When I was in the hall outside just now I’d vow on my life I heard voices.”

Alex coughed, glancing at the lumpy bed. “I suffer from night terrors. You must have heard me babbling in my sleep.”

“While you were airing the clothes?” the woman said.

“I wearied of the task and lay down in the middle of it, so dozed off and had a worrisome dream.”

“Why was the door bolted?” the servant inquired.

Am I on the rack? Alex wanted to scream. She kept her expression impassive, aware that the woman would report every inflection to her uncle.

“A portboy stumbled in here on Sunday when I was in a state of undress. To avoid another such accident, I have taken lately to bolting the door.”