Where Love Has Gone (5 page)

“So I have observed,” Elaine said, glaring at
Desmond. “I repeat; no one wishes harm to my sister.”

“Very well, then,” Desmond said. “You claim
Aglise is sweet-natured, kind-hearted, and a friend to all. Tell us
about her friends.”

“I am Aglise’s best friend.”

“So you have said, and I do believe you. But
a girl possessing so fine a character must have other friends
beside her sister. What about Lady Benedicta? Does she like Aglise
well enough to be called a friend?”

“I – suppose so.” Elaine hoped he hadn’t
noticed her slight hesitation. In case he had noticed, she added,
“It’s difficult to know what Lady Benedicta thinks or feels.”

“I’m sure it is,” Desmond agreed. “What about
Lord Bertrand?”

“He has been like a father to us since our
own father died,” Elaine said. “They were great friends when they
were boys. I remember Lord Bertrand’s visits to Dereham and how
glad Father always was to see him.” Tears stung her eyes and she
blinked them away.

“I will always miss my father,” she said
softly. After a moment she added, “When Father lay dying he begged
me to take care of my little sister. I promised I would, but I
haven’t done a very good job of it, have I?”

“You are not responsible for Aglise’s
disappearance,” Cadwallon said firmly. He reached over from his
horse to pat her hand. “You’ve done the best you could to locate
her. I think your father would be proud of your efforts.”

“Thank you,” Elaine whispered, and swallowed
hard.

“Do other women of Aglise’s age live in
Warden’s Manor?” Desmond asked, returning to his questions. “Or in
the village, perhaps? Someone a little younger than you, who is a
close friend to her?”

“No.” Elaine drew a long breath. “You needn’t
ask about the servants, either male or female, or the squires, or
the men-at-arms, or their wives, or even the manor chaplain. Aglise
is on good terms with everyone, but close to none of them.”

“What about Jean?” asked Cadwallon.

“Jean?” Elaine stared at him.

“My squire, Ewan, mentioned a lad named
Jean,” Cadwallon stated blandly.

“Jean is one of the kitchen helpers. He’s
small for his age and not very quick-witted, so the other boys
tease him. From time to time, Aglise and I have tried to protect
him from their bullying. As a result, he is devoted to both of us.
In fact, when I wrote to Royce, I entrusted Jean with the letter,
knowing he’d find a way to send it on to Normandy. Jean would never
hurt Aglise.”

“Well, then, to sum up what you’ve told us,”
said Desmond, “we have a beautiful and good young woman. Everyone
loves her; no one wishes her harm. Yet she has disappeared,
apparently without a trace.”

“Just so,” Elaine said, her voice shaking a
little.

“You insist she hasn’t left the island. Lord
Bertrand claims his men have searched all of Jersey without finding
her or uncovering any clue as to where she is.”

“Yes,” Elaine whispered, close to tears.

“Where do you think she is?” Desmond asked,
looking hard at her.

“I don’t know. But I am most dreadfully
worried about her.”

“I can see you are. In fact, you are worried
enough to write to Royce in defiance of Lord Bertrand’s wishes.”
Desmond pulled his horse to a stop and swung around in his saddle
to confront her. His voice took on a cold, razor-sharp edge. “What
are you hiding?”

“I? Nothing! I just want my sister back, safe
and well.”

“Then, you had better tell us everything you
know about her disappearance.”

“I have told you! I’ve revealed all I
can.”

“Ah,” said Desmond relentlessly. “All that
you
can
tell us. But not everything you know.”

“Stop it!” Elaine wavered for just a moment
between helpless tears and anger. Anger won. She refused to break
down. She went on the attack instead, not caring if the charge she
hurled at him was ill-founded. “Sir Desmond, you are without a
doubt the coldest, most mean-spirited man I have ever met. I cannot
imagine that Royce sent you here with instructions to badger me in
this way.”

“Royce sent Cadwallon and me here to Jersey
because you begged for his aid,” Desmond retorted with cool
masculine logic. “He sent us because he knows we will find Aglise –
which we intend to do, with or without your assistance. I consider
it most peculiar that after pleading for help, you are now
attempting to obstruct our efforts to provide it. If you really
want to learn what has become of your sister, then answer my
questions fully and honestly; it will save time for both of
us.”

“You are right.” Perhaps, if she tossed him a
crumb, he’d stop pressing her so hard. “I haven’t told you
everything.”

“Tell me now.” He waited, eyeing her as if
he’d like to shake the truth out of her.

“I believe Aglise has been concealing
something. The trouble is, I have no idea what it could be. That’s
why I’ve been reluctant to say anything about my suspicions. No,
suspicion
is too strong a word. I just have the impression
that Aglise knows something she shouldn’t know.”

“And she gave you no hint at all as to the
nature of this knowledge?” Desmond demanded.

“No. I do wonder whether she has been trying
to protect me by not telling me,” Elaine said. “That’s part of the
reason why I’ve been so worried about her. What if she knows
something that’s dangerous to know?”

“Like what?” Desmond asked.

“I keep telling you, I don’t know!”
Withstanding his questions and his compelling gaze would be much
easier if only she didn’t find him so attractive, if only she
didn’t want him to look at her in the same way that men looked at
Aglise. Trying to keep her thoughts fixed on her sister, rather
than on the man who continued to stare at her in a most
intimidating manner, she offered the only possibility that occurred
to her. “Perhaps it has something to do with the French king’s
interest in these islands.”

“Is that a supposition, or do you have
evidence to suggest a particular and immediate French interest?”
Desmond asked.

“I’m only guessing. I make the guess because
Lord Bertrand often speaks of his duty to hold Jersey and the other
islands for King Henry against any French incursions.” Elaine was
uncomfortably aware of the way both Desmond and Cadwallon were
suddenly regarding her as if they were a pair of finely bred hawks
who had just caught a glimpse of the prey they were trained to
capture. “Please believe me, if I knew what Aglise apparently has
learned, I would tell you in hope that the revelation would help
you to find her.”

“Why are you so certain Aglise is still on
Jersey?” Cadwallon asked.

Desmond could see the unexpected question had
startled her. She recovered within a heartbeat or two. Of course,
she did; Elaine was equal to almost any challenge. She was
courageous and intelligent and utterly fearless in her desire to
find her sister. He believed she was honest to the very core of her
soul. He was also certain she was still withholding what might well
be the most important piece of information. But why? To what
purpose?

Desmond nudged his horse and followed after
Elaine and Cadwallon, listening while she explained how Aglise was
so well known on Jersey that she could not leave without being
noticed, that there were few places from which Aglise could have
departed, and that there was no reason for her to want to
leave.

“Not even if she wants to carry this unknown
information to someone who is not on the island?” Desmond asked.
“Suppose she fears for her life because of what she has learned and
she is eager to escape the danger? What if she has decided she must
speak to Royce in person, to tell him what she knows? Could she
have prevailed upon one of the many souls on Jersey who love her to
carry her to Normandy? It’s not so far away; fishermen must sail in
and out of the harbor at Gorey every day, not to mention the
traffic at other harbors on the island.”

“No,” Elaine said, her firm conviction
sounding in her voice. “If what you say were true, she’d have taken
me along. Aglise would never leave me behind to face a peril she
had avoided – or to be used against her in some way, perhaps as a
hostage for her silence. That is why I am certain she never left
Jersey.”

Desmond caught Cadwallon’s eye just then and
recognized his own thought in the other man’s expression. Perhaps,
as Elaine insisted, Aglise, having learned something dangerous, had
not left Jersey – or, had not left it
alive
.

On that first, exploratory circuit of Jersey,
they paused a few times to ask about Aglise at farm houses or in
the tiny villages they passed through. The answers they received
were courteous, but unanimous. Everyone knew Aglise by sight, knew
she was missing and regretted it, but no one had seen her for weeks
and everyone had already informed Lord Bertrand of the facts when
he or his men-at-arms made their first inquiries.

When they finally reached the northwestern
tip of the island they reined in and sat for a few minutes, gazing
out over the brilliant, blue-green sea toward the neighboring
islands of Sark, Herm, and Guernsey. Then they turned south,
gradually moving downhill, following the shoreline along a wide,
curving bay that was edged by sandy beaches.

By then the sun was high and the day was
becoming quite warm. At Cadwallon’s suggestion they stopped at a
pleasant little cove to eat the food Elaine had provided. Removing
their cloaks, they spread them on the sand for a tablecloth.

In hope of luring Elaine into a less cautious
stance, Desmond asked no more questions of her, so the meal was a
pleasant diversion from the seriousness of the morning.

While they rested after eating, Cadwallon
suddenly rose and ducked behind a rock to pull off his boots and
hose. Then, clad only in his unbelted tunic, leaving his sword
behind with Desmond, he ventured into the water.

“Watch the currents,” Desmond advised, though
not very energetically. He was stretched out on the sand, leaning
back on his elbows, with his ankles crossed and his face tilted up
to the sun. Perhaps it was the effect of the wine and the warm day,
but he was feeling remarkably relaxed. “Cadwallon, I don’t want to
have to rescue you,” he added, yawning.

“The water is safe here,” Elaine said, her
quiet voice sounding to his ears like a note of sweet music. “The
bay is sheltered, and this cove even more so. Aglise and I used to
come here sometimes, and she always waded right in. Once, she
neglected to hold her skirt high enough and came out dripping.”

Desmond pondered the faint smile curving her
mouth as she relived the happy memory. Elaine possessed a pretty
mouth, with a nicely shaped lower lip that seemed to him, in his
present indolent mood, to invite nibbling upon. Her single braid of
brown hair lay over one shoulder, her pale skin was flushed by
sunlight and warmth, and her grey eyes were soft.

Since she had removed her cloak he could
appreciate the elegant shape of her figure, the curve of her waist,
and the gentle swell of her breasts. He liked the way she looked,
and he liked her courage and quiet dignity even more. Had they met
at court he’d still have noticed her for the sheer difference
between her and the luxury-loving, senselessly chattering court
ladies. At court, he’d find excuses to speak with her and learn to
know her slowly, to make a friend of her.

Her hand lay near his. Reacting to an
unexpected flicker of desire, he touched her wrist, then let his
fingers slide along her soft flesh until they laced into her
slender fingers. Her startled gaze met his. For a long moment they
gazed into each other’s eyes, grey meeting darker grey, and Desmond
imagined he perceived a flash of warmth.

Then Elaine shifted position, wriggling her
shoulders as if to loosen muscles tightened by the stress of the
morning. Her back was straight and graceful, her neck was slender,
and beneath the brown wool of her dress, her gently rounded breasts
-. Still holding her hand, Desmond swallowed hard and forced
himself to look away from temptation. A secret agent could not
afford to care deeply about anyone, and a sensible woman would do
well not to trust any agent.

On a few occasions during his career he had
found it necessary to seduce a woman in order to further an
assignment for Royce. But it was duty and his emotions were not
involved, for he made a point of never mixing spying with his
personal pleasures. And he was becoming more and more certain that
in his present mission, spying was called for. The realization
excited him almost as much as the touch of Elaine’s warm fingers
did.

If she was right and her sister had
discovered something she shouldn’t have known, then it was possible
– nay, it was likely – that Aglise was no longer alive. If his
speculations were correct, Elaine would be grievously wounded by
the loss of the sister she loved.

Damnation! It should be nothing to him if
Elaine’s heart was broken. He could not allow his own heart to be
beguiled by any woman, however intelligent and quietly tempting she
was. His task was to uncover the truth of what had happened to
Aglise, to put a stop to any illegal or treasonous activities he
happened to discover, and then to leave Jersey with his life, and
Cadwallon’s life, secure, so they could make their reports to
Royce.

Therefore, it was time for him to resume his
questioning now, while Elaine appeared to have relaxed her earlier
suspicions of him. He needed to know more about his quary, the
beautiful and elusive Aglise. Elaine’s remarks about the promise
she had made to her father showed him the way.

“I have a twin brother,” he said, shamelessly
using his own experience to manipulate Elaine into speaking freely.
“When Magnus and I were boys, we were as close as you and Aglise
apparently are. Then we quarreled and didn’t see each other for
years, and for all that time I felt as if half of my heart was torn
out. Only last year we reconciled and began to settle our old
differences. I am just beginning to feel whole again. So, I think,
is Magnus.”