Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance, page 12
She shook her head. Lady Cartwright had certainly enjoyed her jewelry, but it seemed Lynessa could give the woman a run for her money. There was an elegant sapphire teardrop pendant, delicately balanced on a gold chain. A pair of ruby earrings twinkled to another side. Beneath those, a velvet pouch held an amethyst bracelet with gold and silver accents. Yet another small box held numerous rings.
Mary looked through the items with a growing sense of frustration. Lynessa had worn several of the pieces openly since she had arrived at the keep; she had not made any attempt to hide her ownership of them. They could not be objects that would connect her to any wrongdoing.
She sighed, looking at the chest again. Just what had she hoped to find? Perhaps a letter describing Erik’s downfall in detail, with Caradoc’s signature on it?
She closed the chest, re-sealing the lock. She moved on to the other two trunks, but with each search her heart fell further. The woman certainly owned finely embroidered clothing and leather goods of the highest quality. But nothing in any of the cases spoke of a direct connection with the bandits.
At last Mary stood, looking around the room in frustration. Clearly what she sought was not here – but somehow there had to be a way to prove her false.
She nodded in resolution. It was time for her to become even more intimate with Bronson and Sander.
Michael was waiting for her in the great hall when she descended, and he was shaking his head at her expression before she drew to a stop before him.
“No luck, then?” he asked in a low voice.
“There will be something,” she vowed. “I just need the time to find it.”
He gave her a fond pat on the arm. “I have no doubt you will,” he agreed. “But for now, you look as if you’ll run yourself ragged with worry. Come and spar with me.”
Her eyes lit up. “I thought you said I wasn’t ready yet?”
He gave a wry grin. “Given the alternatives, I think this will be a fine way for you to expend some of that energy.”
Mary did not give him a chance to change his mind. In a moment she was down at the barracks, sliding on her leather gear and gathering up the practice sword. Then they were walking out into the crisp sunshine, taking their place in the courtyard she loved so well.
A salute, a pause, and then they were in motion. Mary laughed out loud as she nearly landed a blow on his bicep, as he turned beneath her and deflected her away. Then she was sweeping her sword counter-clockwise, dancing out of the way of his counter. He nodded in approval, reset, and gave her a smile. She launched herself in, losing herself in the moment.
She drove herself to exhaustion, and she was drenched with sweat before finally agreeing to halt. She plunked herself down on the stone steps of the chapel, wearily raising her arms above her head so Michael could pull her leather jerkin off of her.
There was a call from above the gates. “Lord Cartwright has returned.”
A chill flashed through Mary. So much was in motion, so much that was taking on a life of its own, never to be reeled back in again. The main doors of the gate were drawing open, allowing the keep’s master entrance, and at his side rode a glowing apparition in curls and green. By the triumphant glow in her eyes, Mary felt Lynessa must be nearing her objective. The two bodyguards came in a few lengths behind.
Lynessa turned with a beaming smile to gaze at Erik. “That was utterly delightful,” she enthused. “Do promise me that we can go out again tomorrow. It would be my fondest wish.”
Erik’s eyes flickered to Mary for a moment.
Lynessa followed his gaze, her lips turning down in a frown. “My word, Mary, just what kind of a state are you in? I do hope you plan on cleaning up before entertaining us tonight.”
Mary flushed, dropping her eyes. “Of course, M’Lady,” she murmured.
Lynessa swept off her horse, and in a moment she and Erik were walking side by side into the keep. Mary forced herself to watch them go, to focus on the task before her. She drew her eyes over to Bronson and Sander. The men dismounted as she approached, looking over her form with hungry eyes. She realized that her exertions had made her dress moist, and it clung to her body more tightly than she had imagined.
Bronson’s voice was a warm growl. “Miss me?”
She forced her lips to curl up in a smile. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “Do you really have to go out with her tomorrow?”
He gave a shake of his head, his eyes steady on hers. “Not if M’Lady has her way,” he countered. “She intends to get Lord Cartwright out there alone, and she usually gets what she wants.”
Mary flushed at the idea of Erik alone in that woman’s clutches, but she pushed the thought aside. The more time she could spend with these two men, the more likely she was to discover what she needed to know.
She lowered her voice to a purr. “That sounds perfect, then.”
Sander edged forward. “I will be free as well,” he pointed out.
She gave a low laugh. “Maybe you two will have to throw dice for me,” she teased.
Sander’s eyes lit up with delight. “Do they play dice here?”
Mary’s eyes flashed to Michael, and her smile grew to a grin. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “I am sure we can put together whatever type of dice game you crave.”
Now both men’s eyes were gleaming with avarice. Bronson looked as if he were counting the coins already. “The more the merrier,” he insisted. “We even have our own lucky dice.”
Mary bet that it was more than luck that caused their dice to fall a certain way, but she nodded warmly to the pair. “As soon as the two lovebirds leave on their ride tomorrow, we will have the best dice game you have ever seen, with the finest ale as well.”
The smiles on their faces were all she could have hoped for.
*
The roast venison was being passed down the table, and Mary did not know if it was Sander or Bronson who was the more flirtatious. If one was pouring her ale, the other was complimenting her on the curls of her dark hair, or the bright gleam in her gemstone eyes. Michael’s watch over her had settled into a steady simmer, and she had no doubt she’d get an earful from him once the dinner was over and she was able to talk with him in privacy. But for now, the room throbbed with conversation, the simmered turnips were sheer perfection, and she took down another swallow of ale.
Bronson pulled her back against him, his dark curls shining in the torchlight, and she gave a laugh as he tickled her ribs.
There was a call from the head table, and all eyes turned.
Erik was standing, his gaze steady on her, his face edged in shadows. “Singer! It’s time for a song.”
Bronson’s face darkened, and he muttered to Sander under his breath. “Can’t be too soon for my liking.”
Mary flushed, dropping her eyes, striding to grab her tambourine before walking the length of the hall. Her leg was feeling much better, and her thought went to the wound Erik had endured. How was it healing?
The image of him riding toward the Folly, wounded, focused solely on her safety filled her, and with it a longing which nearly overwhelmed her. She pushed the feeling away as she drew before the head table.
She kept her eyes lowered. “What is your pleasure, M’Lord?”
There was a pause, and then his voice came, tight. “Favor us with a song about a woman who misses her true love.”
Lynessa’s voice was rich with pleasure. “Oh, as I missed you when you were away fighting in the Holy Land! An ideal request, my love.”
Mary nodded, refusing to look up. She felt his absence keenly, felt the blackness of the hole swelling within her until it threatened to consume her every thought.
She searched through her mind for a song that was as short as possible. She worried that, if she sang on the topic for too long, she might break down in sobs. That would not serve her purpose well at all.
Ah, there it was.
She drew the tambourine in a shimmering arc, swaying in rhythm. She drew out each line, filling it with the emotion that roiled within her.
“My love has gone away
Alas, why has he left?”
She dropped her eyes, sorrow filling them.
“But I have pledged a vow
I cannot follow him.”
She spun in a circle, feeling the truth of it echo in every word.
“He has my heart in his keeping
Wherever he rides or goes.”
A final spin.
“My love is true,
A thousand fold.”
Mary dropped to a curtsy, giving a trilling ripple to the tambourine.
The room burst into applause, and it was a long minute before it quieted for Lynessa’s voice to be heard.
“That was wonderful, dear Mary. And just perfect, too! For I could not follow Erik into the Holy Land, and I waited eagerly for his return to me.”
She gave a low laugh, and Mary looked up. Lynessa was turning to Erik, smiling up at him. “Although I did of course know why you left me,” she added. “It was all your mother’s fault, and that insane declaration of hers. To think, that it took you this long to regain what was rightfully yours! We could have been here ten years ago, side by side, if not for her.”
There was a flicker of emotion lighting his eyes, and then it was gone, and he was nodding at her. “Of course.”
Lynessa reached into the pouch at her side and withdrew a small coin, flicking it toward Mary. “For your delightful song,” she offered with a chuckle.
Mary caught it deftly, then bowed again, returning to her seat between the two men.
Bronson gave a scoffing laugh. “What’d she give you? A piece of tin?”
Mary turned the coin around in her fingers. The markings on it seemed odd. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve not seen one like this before.”
Sander took a glance, and then gave a low laugh. “That’s ‘cause it’s from the Holy Land,” he explained. “Worth less than nothing until you get Caradoc to change it into proper money for you. She’s reminding you that you’re hers until we return to Caradoc.” He glanced at Bronson. “It’s all she’s paying us in, for the same reason. Even though she has plenty of good English money up in that chest of hers as well.”
Mary’s heart pounded against her ribs. Lynessa was traveling with large amounts of money? Including money from the Holy Land? That could be much harder to explain away. This could offer proof that the theft of Erik’s money had all been a ploy – surely that would be enough for him?
Her brow creased. “You say the money is in her chest?”
Bronson nodded his head. “It sure is. Why?”
She could hardly admit that she’d already picked the lock and found nothing within.
Her mind sought for another approach. “Isn’t that risky? What if a maid came in while Lady Lynessa was selecting out some clothing from the chest, and the maid saw all the foreign money?”
Bronson looked uncertain. “I’m not sure I should –”
She leant against him. “I am one of you,” she purred. “We are all in this together. The more I know, the more I can help!”
His face flushed. “Right, of course, together,” he murmured, looking down at her. His voice dropped to a whisper. “There is a secret compartment in its base. That way Erik has no chance of finding it.”
Her eyes lit up. “How does it open?”
He patted her on the arm. “Don’t you worry about that. Just know that we’ll be well paid when this is all through, and I can support you in a manner of which you’ve only dreamed.”
Sander leant over with a gleam in his eye. “Mutton every night!” he promised. “Ale that flows eternally!” He dropped an arm around her shoulder.
There was a movement from across the hall. Michael had drawn to his feet. His face made it clear that either she either extricate herself immediately or he would come over and do it for her.
She looked up between the two men, tingeing her gaze with reluctance. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to head into the kitchens again. With all the excitement over Lady Lynessa’s presence, we are worked until we drop right now.”
Bronson’s smile faded. “There’s no chance of you getting away?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight, but I will be all yours tomorrow afternoon,” she pointed out.
His smile returned at that, and she was able to draw away from them. It took all her strength of will not to look up to the head table, not to soak in one last glimpse of Erik before heading to her lonely mat in the corner of the pantry.
Chapter 12
Rain thrummed on the roof of the chapel, nearly drowning out the priest’s rumbling voice. Mary looked at her hands, willing away the frustration that roiled like a spring river. Clearly there would be no riding today, and her hopes of dragging more information out of the degenerate duo would have to be postponed. And that gave Lynessa even more time to seduce Erik with her clever wiles.
Mary’s thoughts spun in circles around that chest in Lynessa’s room, despair seeming to envelop her at every turn. Lynessa seemed to have a plan for everything. Even if Mary did find her way in to those coins, and presented them to Erik, what would Lynessa say? Perhaps that she had found the thief, and had been planning to give the money back to Erik as a wedding present, as a delightful way to start their new life together?
Shadows wrapped themselves around Mary until she could barely see the candles flickering along the side wall or the wooden cross hanging at the far end of the altar. She barely heard as the priest finished his sermon. Out of habit she slid from the pew, pulled her cloak hood up over her head, and plodded her wet, weary way across the courtyard and through the open gate. She turned left, walked the length of the main wall, and then made her way up the small hill to where a low stone wall marked the perimeter of the cemetery.
Lady Cartwright, of course, had the most elaborate grave marking Mary had ever seen or heard of. A slab of stone covered the entire top of the grave, carved with praise in Latin and crossed swords engraved at the front. A statue of a guardian angel stood at the head, his hands holding a sword point-down, his face stern and defiant.
Mary moved to the row of flowers planted in the space between the angel’s feet and the start of the stone slab. The snowdrops were just beginning to bloom, with the steady shower of rain adding a glistening light to them. Mary tended to them with focus, cleaning dirt off of one, lifting stray grasses off another.
At last she sat back on her heels, looking up at the stern angel. Somewhere up there Lady Cartwright was staring down at her, scowling at her, wondering why Erik’s assigned guardian angel was failing him.
Her tears mingled with the falling rain as desolation poured through her. She put a hand out to the slick stone, laying her fingers on the sword, desperately praying for the strength to see this through.
A woman’s voice came from behind her. “And what are you doing here?”
Mary turned in surprise; this had always been her quiet time of contemplation. Who would be interrupting her?
Lynessa and Erik stood side by side in the rain, staring at her from beneath their hoods. Their faces were lost in the shadows.
Mary flushed and stood. Her mind raced to think of an excuse for why she was here. “The cook said she normally came out to pay her respects for the grave,” she stammered, “but with the rain she is feeling poorly. So she asked me to come out for her.”
Lynessa’s mouth turned down. “Well, you’ve done as she asked,” she snapped. “Erik here would like some time alone with his mother now.” She slid her arm through Erik’s, and her eyes brightened. “And I shall remain, of course.”
Mary dropped her eyes, unwilling to look into his, and gave a short nod before scurrying past them.
The hall was packed full of people when she wearily pushed her way through the main doors, and the ale was already flowing. Normally Mary would have relished a rainy day of fun and carousing, but the thought of Bronson and Sander man-handling her all afternoon turned her stomach. She slipped her way down into the kitchens, tucking into a corner and making herself useful cutting carrots and turnips.
The hours dragged on, the shadows lengthened, and at last the main meal began. She poked her head into the main hall – and sighed. The two men were laughing uproariously at some jest, their red cheeks and noses clear signs of just how much they had consumed over the afternoon. She squared her shoulders. She could get through this.
The men’s eyes lit up in delight as she approached them, and a place for her was immediately cleared. Bronson wrapped a beefy arm around her waist. “There you are! We were about to go searching for you! That cook can’t keep you busy forever.”
Sander leant over to fill her mug to the very brim. “Drink up!” he insisted. “You are at least twelve mugs behind us already!
She reached forward to grab a warm loaf of bread and ate a bite before downing some of her ale. “So, no gambling today, I take it?”
Bronson shook his head, his eyes warm on her. “That’s fine, the rain should let up tomorrow.” He raised his mug in a toast. “Then Lynessa goes out on her quest, and we head downstairs for ours. We’ll get every coin possible out of these sheep before we leave.” He drank down his mug in one long draw.
Mary shot a glance at Michael, who was glaring at her with steady focus. “Are you sure Lynessa will appreciate you fleecing her flock?”
Bronson gave a low laugh. “With all she is getting for her end of the bargain, she can hardly complain,” he growled. “And besides, she wants her soldiers poor and needy. That way they are more dependent on her and her generosity. The more they need her, the less she can pay them and still know they’ll stick around.”
Sander poured her glass full again. “That’s right,” he chimed in. “She’ll want them as destitute as possible on her, willing to do anything she asks. That’s the way she is.”
Bronson draped an arm across her shoulder, pulling her in. “So we want to get as much as we can out of them tomorrow, because it won’t be long now, my darling. And then you’ll be all ours.”
A deep voice rang out from the head table. “Singer!”
