For several hours, he watched the incoming banners, identifying each one, pointing them out to Sean, who was preoccupied with the fact that Gerard had been gone for some time. He knew Gerard and how the man worked, and to say he was underhanded and sly didn’t begin to cover it. Gerard was as dirty as they came and it greatly concerned Sean that the man was now in charge of taking Christin north to Robert FitzRoy.
In fact, the whole situation had him concerned, but not as concerned as John was when he saw the de Lohr standards raised in the encampment village below. Then, the man realized Christopher de Lohr had, indeed, come for his celebration and that drove John into a rage fairly early on. If the man was present at Norwich, then undoubtedly, he would be in the company of his daughter most of the time. That made their task far more difficult and John was furious about it.
Already, the situation was not going as planned.
“Did you hear me, Sean?”
Sean had been lost to his own thoughts and the question came from the king. He’d been staring from the window but not really seeing or hearing, so he quickly shook his head.
“Alas, I did not, your grace,” he said. “My apologies. I was thinking of the best route to Bishop’s Lynn for de Lohr’s daughter. We want to ensure she makes it to your son before de Lohr can get to her and, as you have noted, the man is here.”
John came away from the window he was looking out of. “My dear Sean,” he said. “Always planning ahead. The fact that Christopher is at Norwich is unexpected, but I suppose in hindsight, I should have guessed. He and de Winter are allies.”
“Technically, he is your ally, too, your grace.”
John lifted his shoulders. “We have never been allies,” he said. “Mayhap he has fought for me, but he’s never truly been my ally.”
“It will be even less so if you take his daughter,” Sean said quietly. “Since he is here at Norwich, will you not reconsider speaking to him about a betrothal? It will go much better for you if you do. It might even heal any rifts, perceived or otherwise. But if you simply take the man’s daughter, it will irrevocably damage any chance of creating a solid ally out of de Lohr.”
John nodded his head as if he were truly thinking about the suggestion. “I know,” he said. “You have told me that before and I’ve had others tell me, also.”
Sean lifted an eyebrow. “Who else have you told about your scheme, your grace?”
John snorted. “Gerard said the same thing as you did,” he said. “Gerard hates everyone and even he was concerned. I have also told Monnington. It was his idea, after all.”
Sean didn’t even look at the spoiled young lord in the corner. He’d been in the chamber for the better part of an hour, ever since he awoke with a horribly aching head from the night before and wandered into the chamber as if it were his right. Given that he’d provided a grand idea to the king, at the moment, he had that freedom. But too much wine and too many women, the privilege of John’s courtiers, had made young Evan a bit difficult to take. Although he’d been in the chamber for a time, he blissfully hadn’t said a word.
“I hope young Lord Dorè knows to keep his mouth shut, your grace,” Sean finally muttered.
John looked over at the hungover young nobleman. “He does,” he said confidently. “He is trustworthy. Oh, and Mandeville is here, you know. He believes it to be a terrible idea, also.”
He was referring to one of his long-time courtiers, William Mandeville. Sean hadn’t seen the man yet, as he tended to float in and out of John’s circle as he went about his own business, but he was relieved to hear that the king hadn’t spread his plans further.
“There are at least three of us telling you not to risk this, your grace,” Sean said. “Yet you still intend to?”
John nodded. “If I ask for a betrothal, de Lohr will deny me,” he said frankly. “I know he will. I must therefore take the lady. I consider the rewards of this action greater than the consequences, for de Lohr will not dare act against me if he values his daughter’s life.”
“And you have the control,” Sean muttered softly.
“Indeed, I do.”
“I, for one, do not think it is a terrible idea,” Evan suddenly piped up. “I think it is a brilliant idea and you should be ashamed of yourself, de Lara, for thinking otherwise.”
Sean turned to the young lord. “Cease your prattle, boy,” he growled. “You know nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
A threat from Sean de Lara was not taken lightly and Evan visibly blanched. He’d been brave until the massive de Lara turned on him. He knew the man and he knew his terrifying reputation.
Now, he wasn’t so brave.
“What I meant to say was that the king’s wish is obeyed in all things,” he said, making sure he was well away from Sean should the man decide to lash out at him. “It is our duty, all of us, to obey.”
Sean looked at the king. “Must I really speak with this piece of filth, your grace?”
John chuckled, enjoying the moment. “You do not have to, of course,” he said. “But he is a lord on the Marches. When you inherit the Trilateral castles from your father, you will be a lord on the Marches, too. Mayhap it is good if you establish a rapport with young Evan. You will need allies when you are the Lord of the Trilaterals.”
Lords of the Trilaterals was the de Lara hereditary title, something that Sean would indeed inherit from his father someday. Hyssington, Trelystan, and Caradoc Castles along the Welsh Marches would all be his.
“I do not need an ally who would go behind my back and betray me as he is betraying de Lohr,” he rumbled, looking at Evan still cowering back in the corner. “I hope de Lohr finds out what you have done and wipes you from this earth. A quarter of his army could destroy you most completely, so I hope you are prepared to deal with that when the time comes.”
Evan stiffened. “Is that a threat?” he demanded. “Are you going to tell him?”
Sean rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I will push aside my policy not to speak with rubbish just this once and tell you that I do not speak of anything the king says with anyone other than the king,” he said. “I do not speak to de Lohr and if you impugn my honor just once more, I will forget you are a lord and make it so your body will never be found. Is this in any way unclear?”
Evan audibly gasped and inched his way towards the chamber door as John held up a calming hand.
“Evan, listen to him,” he said. “Know your place and you shall remain in one piece. Cross my Lord of the Shadows and you will cease to exist. Sean is beyond reproach and you would do well to remember that.”
As Evan settled down, rebuked, John turned to Sean. “Gerard already has a plan to steal Lady Christin away,” he said. “Since de Lohr is here, you will have to help us by making sure de Lohr is none the wiser to his daughter’s abduction.”
Sean nodded. “I will do all I can, your grace,” he said. “What is the plan?”
“She seems to stay to the apartments next to the keep,” John said. “Gerard says there is a postern gate there that leads to the farm fields below. He can remove her from her apartment and take her through the postern gate where horses will be waiting, along with about a hundred of my men, and he must do it sometime during the day when her father is occupied and less likely to look for her. When she does not show up at the evening’s feast, Gerard and the escort will be several hours away by that time.”
Sean could see the logic in that plan because it took Christin out of Norwich the easiest way, bypassing the gatehouse guards who would undoubtedly question a man carrying a screaming woman.
“Where would you have me, your grace?” Sean asked.
“Go with Gerard,” he said. “Stay with him. Help him remove Christin if you must, but cover his retreat to ensure no one follows.”
Sean nodded, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy. “I will ensure the mission is a success, your grace,” he said. “But may I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“
Let me go instead of Gerard. He has no self-control and it is very possible that Lady Christin will not reach your son a maiden. You do not want her sullied by one of your guards.”
John scratched his chin. “Nay, I do not, but I want you with me, so I have little choice but to send her with Gerard,” he said. “I will make it clear to him that he is not to touch her. If he does, it will be at the risk of his life.”
“I hope that is enough, your grace.”
John did, too. He had other things to worry about, like Christopher de Lohr at Norwich, so his attention was stretched.
“Go and find Gerard now,” he said. “He should already be moving the escort down to the gate in the farm fields below, where the postern gate leads. Make sure your plans are coordinated with him. Meanwhile, I will bathe and dress for the feast this evening. And take Monnington with you.”
Sean immediately headed out of the chamber, crooking a finger at Evan as he went. The young lord was too terrified to refuse, so he moved slowly as Sean held the door open for him. Once they were through the door, however, the situation changed dramatically.
The master’s chamber had a narrow staircase that led down to the floor below, steeply pitched and curved in a half-spiral. The second the door to the king’s chamber was closed, Sean grabbed Evan by the neck and slapped a hand over his mouth so the young lord couldn’t scream. Taking him to the top of the stairs, he hurled Evan so fast and so powerfully down the stairs that the man ended up hitting the ceiling of the stairwell before plunging to his death to the floor below.
Sean stood at the top of the steps, hearing him hit. He swore he could hear the bones crunch.
“That is for Christin, you little bastard,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
Almost immediately, Sean could hear people gasping as they found the dead man at the base of the stairs and he quickly went down the steps, telling everyone the young lord had slipped and fallen. He was convincing enough that he was believed, a terrible tragedy on the day of the king’s celebration.
But then again, no one was foolish enough to contest the Lord of the Shadows.
When John heard what had happened, he didn’t contest him, either. But he didn’t believe him. Still, it didn’t matter; Evan Monnington had served his purpose.
There was a young woman to abduct.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Just because her father had chased her away so he could speak to Alexander didn’t mean she was going to stay away.
Christin was on the hunt.
She ran into Kevin near the keep and he mentioned that The Marshal was calling his men together to discuss the feast that night. But when she headed down to The Marshal’s encampment, she happened to see her father entering The Marshal’s tent along with Bric, her Uncle David, and Alexander. Knowing her father was in that meeting meant she would stay away unless she wanted to blow her cover.
Therefore, she hid.
The meeting went on for about an hour and she’d managed to work her way behind his tent, listening to everything that was being said. She never heard her father speak, but she heard Alexander speak up on several occasions and it set her heart to fluttering. Even the sound of his voice made her sigh. She hadn’t seen her father since he’d sent her away so she didn’t know what was said between him and Alexander, but she intended to find out. She knew her father was very protective, and caught off guard, which made for a bad combination. The idea that he might have ruined her budding relationship with Alexander gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
So, she waited.
She knew the meeting couldn’t last forever and, in truth, she’d only been to a few of these all-gathered meetings. If Susanna was there, then she was usually there, but The Marshal still had ideas about women and them participating in men’s games. He needed women like Susanna and Christin, but he still didn’t fully pull them into his fold. But Christin wasn’t offended by it because she was grateful for as far as she had come.
Towards the end of the meeting, the conversations drifted and men began to leave. Mostly, Christin had heard everything she already knew about John, and about the alleged threat from within, so it really wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. When the meeting started breaking up, however, she peered around the side of the tent and watched her father and uncle head back to their encampment.
She saw Bric, Peter, Caius, and Kevin depart also. It occurred to her that her father must know Peter to be part of The Marshal’s spy ring considering they were both in on the very same meeting. That thought didn’t give her much hope about the man’s mood considering it was probably the second dose of important news he’d received that day – first her romance with Alexander and then the confirmation that Peter was an agent for The Marshal.
The poor man had already had a hell of a day and it wasn’t even time for the feast yet.
With men drifting out of The Marshal’s tent, Christin waited for Alexander to appear. Maxton and Kress were still inside the tent, along with Alexander, so she went back to the spot where she’d had the best luck eavesdropping only to hear that William knew of Alexander’s romantic interest in her. Christin sighed faintly, knowing her father must have told The Marshal. She wondered what kind of trouble she’d be in for now, but part of her was glad that it was out. Perhaps a little sooner than she would have liked, but at least it was out in the open now.
She hoped Alexander wasn’t in too much trouble for it.
Unfortunately, William kept his voice quite as he spoke to Alexander, so she could only catch bits of the conversation. Maxton and Kress never said a word; it all seemed to be William and, on occasion, Alexander, but he wasn’t speaking very loudly either. It all seemed to be calm and quiet, which was good. Or, so she thought. Finally, she heard the tent flap move and she peeked around the corner of the tent to see Alexander heading towards the gatehouse that led up to the keep.
Swiftly, she followed.
Since she didn’t want her father or William to see her, she had to dart through The Marshal’s encampment, essentially running to catch up with Alexander. He was just crossing the bridge into the keep when she came up behind him.
“Sherry?”
Startled, he came to a halt and whirled around. “Where did you come from?”
Christin threw her thumb over her shoulder, a vague answer. “That way,” she said. “I saw you come out of William’s tent.”
“You did? Where were you?”
She wasn’t going to lie to him. She was, if nothing else, an honest person, so lying to people she cared about didn’t come naturally.
“I was behind William’s tent, listening to everything he said,” she confessed. “I heard him say that he knows about… us.”
Alexander nodded slowly. “He does,” he said. “Is that all you heard?”
She gazed up at him, the breeze whipping her dark hair across her face. “I did not hear any details, if that is what you mean,” she said. “What else did he say?”
He regarded her for a moment. “Your father asked that I not speak to you for the rest of the day, you know.”
“Are you going to listen to him?”
Alexander glanced around to see if he saw Christopher or David, or any other Marshal man. When he didn’t note any familiar faces, he took her by the elbow.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “Come with me.”
She went with him, gladly. He was walking rather quickly and led her straight back to her apartment block. Before proceeding inside, however, he paused.
“Who is in the building?” he asked.
Christin instinctively glanced up at the gray-stoned building. “At this time of day, it is difficult to tell,” she said. “Since there is a great feast tonight, it is possible that Lady de Winter has the women in the kitchens to oversee the preparations. Why?”
“Because I must speak with you privately and this may be the only place that I can do it.”
Christin didn’t say another word. In fact, he sounded rath
er ominous so she was eager to get on with it. Opening the door, she led him inside, calling a few times to see if anyone was about, including Wynter. Receiving no reply, she bolted the entry door.
“My chamber is upstairs,” she said quietly.
He stopped her before she could head up the stairs. “Won’t they question the fact that you have locked the entry door?”
She shook her head. “Not when I explain that I was afraid of the king,” she said. “They will not question that. Just make sure you are not discovered. I may have to push you out the window to escape.”
He gave her a wry smirk and let her lead him up to her chamber on the second floor, the one with the view of both the keep and the garden. Admitting him inside, she closed the door quietly and bolted that one, too. Then, she faced him expectantly.
“Well?” she said. “What do you wish to speak of?”
They were quite alone, behind two locked doors, and Alexander found that he was having trouble focusing on anything else but her. Not The Marshal or her father or the king filled his mind. It had only been a few hours since he’d last seen her, but he felt as if it had been a million.
There was something about the woman that grew more beautiful each time he saw her. Her dark hair, long and curling, her dark brows arched over eyes of a pale gray… there was nothing about her that was unspectacular and he wanted this relationship to work so very badly. He never knew how badly until this very moment.
He took a deep breath.
“Your father and I had a serious discussion when you left,” he said. “He was not happy, Cissy. Surely you know that.”
“I know,” she said, sobering. “Did he ruin things for me, Sherry?”
He looked at her, grinning. “Hardly,” he said. “But he did bring up a few things about me that you must be aware of. I thought we would have time to discover one another, not give you an entire accounting of my life for the past twenty years all at once, but it seems that might not be the case. Before you and I proceed, there is something you must know about me.”
A Time of End Page 18
