The Silver Rose (15 page)

Miri’s voice was so low Simon had to stoop to hear her as she relived that terrible moment when she’d found the abandoned child and believed him dead. She hesitated only when she revealed whose babe it was, the identity of the proud and truculent girl who had left Faire Isle, either enticed or forced to join the coven of the Silver Rose.

Perhaps Miri should have questioned the wisdom of speaking so freely, offering up Carole Moreau’s name to a witch-hunter. She had promised both Marie Claire and herself that she would be cautious with Simon. Ally with him to defeat the Silver Rose, yes, but hold him at as much distance as possible.

Unfortunately, her resolve had weakened from the moment she had found him kneeling at the grave of a child only he had cared enough to name or bury. Looking so vulnerable as he had quietly grieved, fumbling to remember his prayers.

He had been harsh in his dismissal of what he had done for this unknown child, trying to behave as if it were nothing. And yet she suspected that he had also performed this same tender rite for all those other abandoned babes he’d found, although she was sure he’d fiercely deny it. God forbid anyone discover the dread Le Balafre might still possess a heart.

“. . . and as soon as I made sure my cottage and animals would be well looked after, I left Faire Isle to come in search of you,” Miri concluded.

Simon had listened gravely to her recital, his hands locked behind his back. Making no interruptions, asking no questions, he allowed her to unfold her story after her own fashion. But by the end of her tale, his jaw flexed in a hard line.

“Damnation,” he said. “I should never have come to Faire Isle. The Silver Rose’s cursed witches must have followed me. I led them straight to your doorstep.” He lashed out, stripping off withered grape leaves as he stalked down the hill.

“If you will take a moment to reflect, Simon, you know that can’t be true. Before you ever arrived, Carole was already boasting about these powerful new friends of hers. The women had to have been lurking on Faire Isle for some time, enticing Carole to join them.” Feeling that the poor beleaguered vines had already suffered enough damage, Miri caught Simon’s arm to stop him. “Your warning was all that prevented me from touching that poisonous rose. You actually saved me.”

“I am glad of that much then. Rest assured I will do my best to apprehend these evil women and see that this Moreau girl is punished along with the rest.”

Dismayed, Miri drew her hand away. “No, that is the last thing I want. Carole is not like those other women. She is only frightened and confused.”

“Sweet Jesu, Miri—” Simon began, but Miri cut him off, insisting, “She never meant to hurt her babe. I am sure of it.”

“Then the girl has some damned peculiar notions about mothering.”

“Don’t you see? There are many remote and inaccessible places on Faire Isle and Carole would have known of them. But she wrapped her child tenderly in her best shawl and left him near the stream not far from my cottage. She must have guessed that that is where I go to draw water. She placed her little boy where she was certain I would find him.”

“And find that cursed rose. Rather than hoping you’d rescue the babe, she might have been trying to kill you. Did you ever think of that?” he demanded.

Miri sucked in her breath, momentarily daunted. Such a dreadful thought had never occurred to her. She was quick to reject it. “Carole does not possess that kind of evil. Whatever happened, her companions were to blame. If she was the one who left the rose, they forced her or—or tricked her. I am convinced of it.”

The difficulty was convincing Simon. His face hardened in that expression she so dreaded. His witch-hunter’s look, she’d always called it.

“Simon, please, you have got to believe me and for once trust my instincts instead of yours.”

His lips thinned in a harsh line, but as his gaze rested upon Miri, something in his visage softened. “Very well, when I track down these harpies, I will do my best to make sure this girl is judged fairly. I hope that satisfies you and you will return home. You have already taken a damnable risk, haring after me, all alone. To say nothing of the jolt you gave me, appearing out of thin air. How the devil did you manage to get here anyway?”

“I flew in on my broom.”

When Simon shot her an exasperated look, she said wryly, “I traveled in the ordinary way, like everyone else. By horse.” Miri gestured to her mount, grazing near where Simon had tethered Elle in the only shade to be had, a stand of poplar trees at the base of the hillside. Contrasted to Elle’s sleek lines and glossy black coat, Miri’s gelding appeared dull and heavy. Mud-colored with a blaze of white upon his forehead, Samson was not the handsomest or the swiftest of horses. But he had a powerful chest and hindquarters. Strong and sturdy, he possessed a remarkable degree of stamina.

Shading his gaze with his hand, Simon squinted in Samson’s direction. “I don’t recall that beast being stabled in your barn.”

“He wasn’t. I borrowed him.”

Simon regarded her uneasily. “Borrowed or, er,
liberated
him from his owner?”

Miri smiled slightly, surprised that Simon would even remember her girlhood determination to free every abused animal from cruel or neglectful owners.

“I didn’t
steal
Samson if that is what you are afraid of. I have finally learned to accept that the world’s views on animals as property are far different from mine, and happily Samson did not require rescuing. He was loaned to me by—by a good lady, a merchant’s wife from Saint-Malo. She sent three of her servants as well to act as escort until I found you.”

“What escort? I don’t see anyone hovering about.”

“They left as soon as I overtook you. My new acquaintances are not, er, comfortable around witch-hunters.”

“And yet they abandoned you to one.”

“Because I bade them go.” Miri lifted her chin proudly. “I am Evangeline Cheney’s daughter, and unlike most women, I was taught to make my own decisions. The choice to seek you out was mine.”

“And a damned poor choice it was,” Simon growled. “Beyond helping this benighted Moreau girl, what did you hope to accomplish?”

Rescue Carole and . . . somehow manage to save you as well.
Miri lowered her eyes, wondering where that thought had come from. If she were honest, she had to admit that it had been in the back of her mind all along. But she didn’t have to admit that to Simon.

“I thought my purpose in coming should be clear to you,” she said. “I have come to help you unmask the Silver Rose, put a stop to her wicked schemes.”

Simon looked thunderstruck for a moment, then folded his arms across the broad barrier of his chest.

“No.”

Miri blinked, dismayed by the forbidding look that settled over Simon’s countenance. Up until this moment, she had believed that he had actually been glad to see her. More than glad. Now he glared like he wished her at the far ends of the earth.

“You are refusing my offer?” she faltered.

“Damned right I am. Whatever made you think I’d accept?”

“Because that is why you came to Faire Isle, isn’t it? Looking for help.”

“Not yours,” he said bluntly.

When she flinched, he went on in a gentler tone, “Miri, it is not that I don’t appreciate your offer, but I never wanted—”

“I know what you wanted,” Miri interrupted sadly. “The Lady of Faire Isle. Regretfully, you will have to make do with me. If nothing else, I can at least provide an extra pair of eyes, help you to watch your back.”

“Or distract me so I end up with a witch blade thrust through my heart.”

“I am glad to hear that that is of concern to you. I was afraid you no longer cared whether you lived or died.”

“I don’t,” he snapped. “But use your head, woman. If I fell, what the devil do you think would happen to you? By now you ought to realize how deadly this sorceress and her minions are. You can’t get involved in this dangerous pursuit.”

“But I am already involved, whether I like it or not,” she said. “I may not have the power and influence Ariane once wielded among wise women, but I can help you, Simon. I possess certain . . . connections and abilities of my own. I managed to track you down, didn’t I?”

“Not to belittle your accomplishment, my dear, but I have been making no effort whatsoever to conceal my whereabouts.”

“That was remarkably careless of you. The Silver Rose’s agents could have—” Miri shivered as comprehension dawned on her. “You wanted them to find you!”

Simon shrugged. “I lost all trace of the Silver Rose after my return from Faire Isle. Another attack is my only hope of picking up the scent again.”

“No, it isn’t. Do you realize the pair that took Carole from Faire Isle has been journeying in the same direction? I have been able to follow them as well as you.”

Simon paled beneath his layering of beard. “Are you completely mad, Miribelle Cheney? Do you realize what could have happened to you if you had overtaken those witches on your own?”

“I was being careful, far more so than you have been.” Miri paced slightly ahead of him, frowning. “Too careful, perhaps. I lost all sign of them near Tours. I believe they might have taken to traveling by river and I am sure we will have no trouble—” She gasped as Simon seized her by the shoulders and spun her about to face him.

“No! Let us get one thing straight here and now. There is no
we.
Go back to Faire Isle. This is not your battle.”

“Yes it is.” She tipped back her head to peer at him from beneath the brim of her hat. “Oh, Simon, how can I make you understand? I am a true daughter of the earth and the evil this woman is doing— Not only does she threaten innocent lives, she defiles all the goodness and harmony I believe in, every principle that I hold dear. It is my duty to stop her as much as it is yours.”

“And how can I make
you
understand? If you were killed or even hurt— Damn it, Miri, I have enough regrets where you are concerned. Don’t tempt me to make use of you again.”

He thrust her away from him, giving her a small shove down the hill in the direction of her mount. “Saddle up and go find those fools who escorted you here. Go home, Miri. Before it is too late.”

Miri staggered a little to regain her balance, then dug in her heels. “I am sorry, Simon, but I can’t do that.”

“Would you prefer that I truss you up and drag you back to Faire Isle myself?” Simon’s voice was low, almost silken, but she could tell from the dark glitter in his eye that the threat was very real.

“You could do that,” she replied with a stubborn lift of her chin. “You are much stronger than I. But it would be a great waste of time for both of us. You might be able to make me return home, but you’ll never be able to keep me there. As soon as your back is turned, I will only have to set out again.”

Simon stalked away from her, swearing under his breath just as Miri had often heard Renard do whenever he became frustrated by what he termed Ariane’s obstinacy. Simon and her brother-in-law were such bitter enemies. How appalled both men would be to discover they had anything in common. The thought would have provoked a smile from Miri under other circumstances, but she rubbed her arms, feeling at a loss.

It should have occurred to her Simon might refuse her help, but his rejection hurt all the same. She had always been accounted the youngest, the weakest of the Cheney women, the little sister who needed to be sheltered and protected, safe in her world of dreams. And for so long, she was ashamed to admit, she had preferred it that way. Perhaps she still did.

She trailed after Simon where he stood near the edge of the vineyard, gazing moodily toward the valley below. A small village of white stone cottages dotted the banks of the Cher River like beads from a broken strand of pearls. The rays of the setting sun made the thatched roofs appear as though they had been spun from gold. Despite her exhaustion, worries, and fears, Miri was touched by the simple peace and beauty of the scene.

She wondered if Simon felt the same, but she doubted it. Judging from his tight-lipped expression, she suspected that all he saw were the lengthening shadows, the dangers of another night about to descend.

From the nearby grove of poplars, Elle emitted a soft whicker. She twisted her head to nuzzle Samson when he lipped playfully at her ear, the pair behaving as though they had been pastured together all their lives.

Miri smiled ruefully. “Our horses appear to be getting along far better than we are.”

Simon cast a cursory glance toward the horses. “That is because they have nothing at stake, nothing like our past history.”

“No, I think it is because animals are more sensible than humans. They view the world in much simpler, uncomplicated terms. I often envy them.” Stepping closer to Simon, Miri said quietly, “I am sorry that you doubt my strength and courage for this enterprise.”

“Damn it, Miri, I never said—”

“And I don’t blame you,” she rushed on, not giving him a chance to speak. “But you should know. If you won’t let me come with you, I will be obliged to continue on alone.”

Simon cut her a glance filled with dark impatience. “You will, will you? And if you did find the Silver Rose on your own, what the devil are you planning to do with her? Reason with her, tell her this is not how nice wise women behave? Because we both know damned well you’d never be able to shoot her or thrust a knife through her black heart.”

Although she winced at his sarcasm, Miri replied with dignity, “I hope I would find the fortitude to do whatever must be done, but that is why it would be better if we joined forces. I believe I can help you find the Silver Rose, but you are much better at—at—”

“Being a cruel and cold-hearted bastard?”

Miri frowned at him. “At fighting evil, I was going to say.”

“Ah, so you finally acknowledge the need for the ruthlessness of the witch-hunter.”

“Just as the witch-hunter needs the lore of the wise woman,” she retorted. “You’ll never defeat this woman on your own either.”

“I’ll manage.”

“You haven’t succeeded thus far,” Miri reminded him. “An alliance between us seems the most sensible thing, but the choice is yours. We can risk our lives together. Or alone.”