When Love Awaits (22 page)

“Richer Calveley?” Rolfe did not wait for confirmation, for he could smell the man’s fear. His voice was curiously flat, making it sound all the more ominous. “For what you did to my lady, I am going to kill you. Draw your sword.”

It took a second for Richer to realize his good fortune, and then there was a rush of giddiness as he realized his death would not be drawn out after all. The lord was not going to take advantage of his rank. He was going to give him a fair fight, more than a fair fight, because he was not wearing armor, though Richer had at least a modicum of protection in his thick leather jerkin.

There was a chance for Richer to win, a good chance, but it was set somewhere in his mind that he was going to die, and that destroyed his chance, worked against
him, and undermining his skill. Once his sword was in his hand, he swung wildly.

Rolfe’s sword found its mark with his first effort, sliding smoothly through flesh and bone to pierce the heart. No pity stirred in Rolfe’s own breast, no regret for killing a man. In his mind was a picture of his Leonie suffering under those brutish hands. He turned and walked away before Calveley’s large body had collapsed to the floor.

T
HE pasture was abloom with summer flowers warmed by the midafternoon sun. By contrast, the surrounding forest was dark and gloomy. The forest kept the eight men and their horses well hidden.

Alain Montigny was satisfied when he looked their way that his seven men could not be seen. A group of ragtag thieves and landless knights like himself, they were Alain’s following, their needs paid for with the money the Crewel steward had stolen for Alain. But that easy money was no longer available since Erneis had been found out. Alain had dispatched him quickly, his usefulness over. It still rankled Alain that Leonie had been the one to catch his man.

Alain needed money desperately now. The few travelers his men and he had robbed produced light purses, and there wasn’t enough money to keep his band of men fed. The men wanted to move on to the better traveled routes, farther south, but Alain had his own personal reason for being where he was. He had no intention of leaving until he found his chance to kill the man responsible for his terrible reversal of fortune. He had almost succeeded when he’d set the Crewel mill on fire and drawn his prey to where he could take a good aim at him. What an unexpected bit of bad luck that his arrow hadn’t found a vital spot.

It was taking too long, waiting to find Rolfe d’Am
bert away from his army, or separated from his escort. If only Alain could catch him unprotected, d’Ambert could be overcome by Alain’s men and easily killed. Then Alain could marry Leonie and have back all that was his, all that he had lost.

It was Erneis who had told him that Leonie’s people were harassing the Black Wolf. How Alain had loved Leonie for that! It was also Erneis who told him that she was being forced to marry d’Ambert. At first, Alain was enraged. But then he decided it was a good thing, for Leonie would so hate being forced that she would hate her husband as much as Alain did. She would make a good widow. She would marry Alain, and with her support, Alain would petition the king for a pardon. The plan would work, all of it, for what man, even the king, could resist Leonie’s sweet charms, or her sweet body, if it came to that?

Alain watched the woods like a starving hawk. This time, she had to come. It was not easy getting messages to her, for the villagers were content under their new lord. There was only one man willing to deliver his messages to Leonie. The other men remembered Alain’s heavy hand too well and were likely to report his presence to d’Ambert. Alain vowed he would remember that once he was master of Crewel again.

Leonie had not responded to his first two notes, but it was doubtless difficult for her to come to him alone as he’d requested. Well, d’Ambert was away from Crewel, so Alain waited eagerly to see her…eagerly and very anxiously. The men were very restless and bad-tempered. It was getting harder and harder to convince them that they would possess greater wealth if they would only be patient a little longer.

A large ransom would solve one of Alain’s problems, and keep the men pliable for a while. Should
he tell Leonie that he intended to ransom her? If she agreed to come away with him peacefully it would make his life easier. After all, he didn’t have to tell her everything. He might tell her only part of his plan.

The sound of horses coming from the wrong direction threw Alain into a panic, but then he saw her. She was leaving the woods with her escort, but coming from Pershwick. Her men-at-arms were her own, wearing Pershwick colors.

Leonie had left immediately for Pershwick when Alain’s third message came. Once there she dismissed her escort, telling them she would use a guard from Pershwick to bring her back to Crewel, as she planned to stay the night at Pershwick. She wanted none of Rolfe’s men to be able to tell him she had met a man in a field. But she wanted no more notes from Alain, either, and the only way to stop them was to talk to him.

It was impossible to leave Pershwick alone, for Sir Guibert insisted she take at least six men, and he could not be talked out of it. But they were her men, and when she told them to wait for her at the edge of the woods, no one argued.

Within plain sight of her guard, she rode slowly toward Alain. Her heart beat harder as she approached the man she hadn’t seen in half a year. It seemed even longer than that, for she had been through so much and seen more of the world in that time than in all the rest of her life. And Alain, how had he fared since leaving? She supposed his presence in the region meant one of two things. Either he was no longer running, had perhaps reason to believe he might be given a royal pardon, or else he was so desperate that he felt in no more danger there near his old home than he did anywhere else. Poor Alain.

When they’d last met, a cold winter sun had lit his blond hair to gold and turned his cheeks ruddy pink, making him look younger than twenty. As she neared him, she was dismayed to see how haggard he looked. There was a deep weariness in his features, and his eyes glinted with a cunning that made her wary.

“Alain.” Leonie kept her greeting reserved as he lifted her down from her horse. “I thought you meant to remain in Ireland.”

He smiled bitterly. “I did. But when I arrived there, I found my kin were staunch supporters of Henry’s. Not one was willing to incur his displeasure by harboring me. They assisted me in leaving as soon as I arrived.”

“I am sorry,” Leonie said sympathetically, but she needed to come to the point. “You never did tell me what you were accused of, Alain, and I have heard things—”

“Lies,” he said quickly. He smiled warmly. “It is so good to see you, Leonie. Is all well with you? You do not seem to have fared badly with the Black Wolf.”

She answered stiffly, “He does not mistreat me, Alain. But I will not talk of him. Why have you come here?”

He appeared crestfallen. “Can’t you guess? When I heard of your marriage, I grieved for you. I thought you would welcome my help.”

“Thank you, Alain, but I do not need help,” she said as courteously as she could.

“You are
happy
with him?”

She looked away sadly. “I cannot say I am happy, but nothing can change my circumstance.”

“You could come away with me, Leonie.”

Leonie turned toward him again, startled. She had thought of fleeing, but until Rolfe was willing to let
her go, he would be sure to track her down. What she needed was sanctuary, and Alain could hardly give her that.

“Where is it you plan to go, Alain?”

The question was simple curiosity, but he interpreted it to mean acceptance.

“You will not regret your decision, Leonie.” He smiled, wrapping her in his arms. “I swear I will make you happy!”

“Alain!” She gasped, trying to push him away. “I am married.”

He held her tightly. “A mistake that will soon be corrected.”

Leonie grew very still. “What do you mean?”

“Your husband risks his life daily,” Alain answered carefully. “Even now he wars with my vassals.”

“Your father’s vassals.”

“The same thing,” he said curtly. “Such a man, a man of war, will die—and soon.”

Sudden understanding made her feel sick. Alain’s first message had come not long after Rolfe’s injury. Alain might have been there. He might have been the one who unleashed the arrow.

“Alain,” she began carefully, “you—misunderstood—”

“Quiet!” he hissed, his body tensing. She followed his gaze toward Crewel, horrified to see her husband break through the woods, alone.

“Keep your men out of this, Leonie,” Alain said excitedly. “My own men will take him easily.”

“What?”

She could see no other men in or near the clearing. But when Alain let out a shrill whistle, she knew Rolfe was in danger.

“Alain! You must not attack Rolfe!”

“Hush, Leonie,” Alain said confidently. “This will be easy.” He called across the clearing, “Stay where you are, d’Ambert. You have lost what is yours.”

Rolfe had already seen the lovers standing close together, embracing. This was the truth he had dreaded. He had returned to Crewel to tell Leonie the truth about her father, only to find that she had gone to Pershwick. Then he found a message from Alain Montigny left carelessly on the writing table. A search produced another note from Montigny. Two notes were enough to declare her guilt, and what was before him was the damning confirmation.

“Let her go, Montigny!”

“She is leaving with me,” Alain taunted.

Leonie gasped, outraged. But then everything began happening so fast that she had no time to deny Alain’s claim.

Her own men had mounted and were riding toward them. Much closer, Alain’s men came bursting through the trees. All seven of Alain’s men charged Rolfe, who drew his sword like lightning. His battle cry resounded in the clearing, bringing some of the attackers up short so that only four of them actually met Rolfe head-on.

Leonie screamed for her men to hurry, but no one realized she meant for them to help Rolfe. Alain, confident of his plan, believed she meant for her men to attack Rolfe.

“Never fear,” Alain assured her, relishing his triumph, “he is strong, but he is outnumbered.”

“Fool!” Leonie cried, and Alain’s smile vanished. “I would kill you before I would let you kill him!”

“You will thank me…”

He went silent as his men turned and fled back into the woods—five of them, while two lay dead in the
meadow. When he saw why, Alain gripped Leonie’s wrist and pulled her toward their horses. Rolfe had not come alone after all, but had only raced ahead of his men in his haste to reach Leonie. Two knights and a half dozen men-at-arms were with Rolfe now. And Leonie’s own men had joined their lady.

Rolfe did not move, but faced Alain from yards away. “If you go with him, Leonie, I will hunt him down and kill him.”

Alain let go of her instantly. “He wants you so badly, he can have you,” he told her fearfully. He mounted his horse, glancing at Rolfe to see if the larger man would stop him.

“He believes the worst,” she told Alain. “You must tell him…Alain! Come back!” He rode into the forest in the direction his men had taken. Leonie called his name once more, but Alain did not even look back.

She swung around to face her husband. His eyes were black with fury, his expression cruel as he slowly walked his horse toward her.

“My lady, do we fight your husband?”

She had barely noticed her men gathering around her. What could she tell them? What must this look like to them? She did not want to be left alone with Rolfe, but of course there was no question of a battle.

“Answer them, madame,” Rolfe ordered.

“My lord, you must let me explain,” she began.

“Answer them!”

She took a deep breath. “My lord, you must tell them you mean me no harm.”

“I will tell them only that no one keeps me from my wife. I will kill anyone who tries. If they wish to die, then they may fight me.”

She faced her guard. “Return to Pershwick. I go with my husband willingly.”

“But, my lady,” the youngest man said uneasily, casting a glance toward Rolfe. “Sir Guibert will kill us if—if anything happens to you.”

“Tell him only that you escorted me home to Crewel.” The man did not move. “I will not have Guibert Fitzalan riding on Crewel to rescue me, do you understand? I will flay you myself if he learns what has happened here. Now go.” The man still did not move. Leonie sighed. “He is my husband. I
must
go with him. Do not make it more difficult, I beg you.”

She signaled to him to help her mount, and he did so, reluctantly. She then rode out of the clearing without waiting for anyone. She rode in the direction of Crewel Keep. It did not take Rolfe’s men long to catch up with her.

She did not turn around once to see whether Rolfe was behind her.

T
HE next week passed in a torrent of emotions, and she spiraled between deep depression and impotent fury. Rolfe indeed followed her back to Crewel and dragged her up to their room. She expected the worst, but what he did was to lock her in. Later she learned he had drunk himself into oblivion that night.

He released her the next day, but nothing had changed. He wouldn’t listen when she tried to explain about meeting Alain. He wouldn’t listen when she said there had been no question of her leaving with Alain. He wouldn’t listen. He would not speak to her. The servants avoided her for fear of his anger.

The worst was that Wilda and Mary were sent away, leaving her bereft. There was no one at all for her to talk to.

If he would leave, the tension might become bearable, she told herself. But he did not return to the siege at Warling. He did not even leave the keep to hunt. He stayed near Leonie, yet away from her, as if he did not trust himself to be with her, yet could not leave her alone.

She knew exactly what he thought. He expected her to flee, and he was there to make certain she didn’t. Finding Alain’s two notes together and crumpled on the floor the day Rolfe locked her in the room told her how he had found her and what conclusions he had
drawn. She knew how damning that scene in the clearing had been, but there was no way to put things right when he wouldn’t listen to her.

He would not even sleep with her in their bed, but was sleeping on a pallet in the antechamber, like a guard outside her door.

She knew she could not go on that way much longer. Frustrated and angry, Leonie threw open the door that separated her from her husband. His eyes were open. He was staring at the ceiling. He was ignoring her and it sent her over the edge. She looked around the antechamber for something to throw at him.

“Do not, Leonie.” His voice was low and menacing.

“Why not?” she demanded furiously. “Then you could beat me and we would have done with this!”

“Beat you?” Rolfe sat up on his pallet. “I killed a man for doing just that and you dare to think I—”

“What?”

“Calveley is dead by my hand,” he told her tonelessly. “I could not let him live after what he did to you.”

Leonie was stunned. “How did you know? I never said—”

“The last week I was gone from here I spent with your father, rendering him sober enough to accept my challenge.” As her eyes reflected panic, he said irritably, “I did not kill your father, woman. He was not the villain I believed he was. He had his wife turn him into a drunk. He was weak, and hardly guiltless, but he did not order you beaten, Leonie. He did not know anything, did not even know you were at Pershwick all these years,” he finished a bit more gently.

“How…could he not know?” she whispered, nearly in shock, and Rolfe explained all of it.

“Right now he is overcome with remorse for failing you so terribly,” he finished.

She was sickened. Why had she not once tried to force her way in to see him? She might have saved herself and her father so much misery. She might have learned the truth sooner.

“I shall go to him now!”

“No!”

“No?” she cried. “How can you say
no?
”

“Give the man a chance to regain his self-respect, Leonie,” Rolfe said adamantly. “He will come to
you
when he is ready. You may be certain he will.”

She glared at him, near tears. “Do not wrap your refusal in noble sentiments! You say no to keep me imprisoned here. Why deny it?”

“Damn me!” Rolfe exploded. He reached her in two strides, taking no notice of his undressed state. “I returned here to tell you all I learned about your father, and found you run off with your lover!”

“He was never my lover!”

“Liar!” His hands bit into her shoulders. “I would not be surprised if you left his note out on purpose so that I could be drawn into his trap. You
did
know he had men waiting to attack me?”

“I know it now, but I did not know it then. How could I? I had not seen him before that day, I swear it.”

He was so furious, he shook her. “There were two notes!”

“There were three!” she shouted back. “But I paid no attention to the first two. I wanted only to see what Alain was doing here. He was so insistent about seeing me. And why would I leave notes for you to read when you told me you could not read? If anyone is a liar, you are!”

Rolfe sidestepped that issue entirely. “What did he tell you, Leonie?” he asked her darkly.

She wasn’t fooled by the softer tone. “That he wanted to help me, that he thought I was suffering living with you.” She lowered her voice too. “But I don’t think that is really why he drew me out there. I think those men who attacked you were there to assist him with me if I did not agree to go away with him. I think he meant to hold me for ransom.”

She lowered her eyes. That was a mistake, for suddenly she was very much aware of his nudity. Rolfe became aware of it too. He didn’t know whether he ought to believe her, but he desperately wanted to.

When he gathered her into his arms, she was shocked. How could anyone be so changeable? She tried to pull away.

“Rolfe, no!”

He crushed her to him. “Unfair, Leonie. You use my name to weaken me.”

“How can you—”

“How can I not? God help me, I want you. I cannot fight it and I will not try anymore.”

Rolfe didn’t know it, but those words worked magic on her, making her suddenly realize that he did love her—he was just too stubborn to admit it.

In truth, all Leonie had ever wanted from him was his love. Having that, she would give him everything, her heart, her life, her children.

She gave him passion to match his own, and Rolfe was nearly undone by her response. He picked her up and carried her to the large bed she had not been able to sleep in alone. There he made love to her with his
hands, his lips, all of his body, showing her with his desire what was in his heart.

And Leonie loved him in return, with no thought for any time but the moment. He was hers, and she let her joy guide her, exalting in having all of him.