Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Val noticed because she quickly lowered her head. He put his hands on her upper arms, comfortingly.

  “What is the matter?” he asked gently. “What did I say? Did I say the wrong thing again?”

  She sniffled, shaking her head. “You said the right thing,” she assured him. “’Tis only that I did not realize how terribly lonely I was until now. I did not know what I had missed in my heart until I met you.”

  His grip on her lessened and he began to caress her. “My sweet lass,” he murmured. “You will no longer be lonely, I swear it. You have me now; you shall always have me, evermore.”

  Vesper smiled at him, still watery-eyed, and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. It was a brazen move in public but far less brazen than kissing her lips again, which is what he wanted to do. In fact, he was already plotting how to get her alone before he had to return to Selborne when they both began to hear the distant roar of a crowd.

  It was a faint buzz of many voices in the distance. The sound caught Val’s attention and he looked off to the northwest, towards the center of the town. He knew there was a well there. There was also a vast grassy area where farmers and others conducted daily business. But now, there seemed to be something else afoot. He could just tell by the buzz that it wasn’t something good.

  People began running past him, towards the town center, while more people were running away from the center, screaming at others to come and see. Val strained to hear what they were saying.

  “What is going on?” McCloud walked up behind the pair, leading the three horses. “Val, what is amiss?”

  Val shook his head; he was trying to make out what people were shouting about. “I am not entirely sure,” he said. “But there seems to be a great deal of excitement.”

  “Shall we go and see?” McCloud asked.

  Val pondered that a moment. If it was something grim or serious, he didn’t want to drag Vesper into it. A delicate lady didn’t need to be exposed to the whims of a mob. He finally shook his head.

  “Nay,” he said. “Durley is not far from here. Mayhap we should simply take Vesper home.”

  McCloud didn’t like that response. He’d spent the past several minutes trying to think up an excuse as to why Val couldn’t come to Durley and he thought he had concocted a fairly believable one. There was only one way to find out.

  “Nay, Val,” he said quietly. “I will take Vesper alone. My son, you see… he does not deal well with strangers and I am afraid the sight of you would greatly upset him. I never told you this, but Mat is… he is a simple man. He has the mind of a child and a great many things upset him, so until I can get him used to the idea of your presence, I would prefer you not come to Durley.”

  Some of what McCloud said was true but not all of it. Mat was actually very friendly but therein lie the problem – Mat could very easily tell Val of his murderous activities without even realizing what he’d done, so that was another reason to keep Val away from Durley and away from Mat. McCloud held his breath, watching Val’s expression and praying the man would honor his request. Given that Val was a gracious man, he really wasn’t surprised by his answer.

  “If you feel that is best, then I will do as you ask,” Val said. “But I will admit it will be difficult. May I send a messenger to Vesper at least?”

  McCloud looked at his daughter, now bearing a spectacular gold necklace on her shoulders. Nay, he didn’t want Val or his messengers near Durley. It would be too risky. Therefore, he shook his head.

  “Not now,” he said. “But I would like to see your mother very soon. You will recall that she invited us to return to Selborne and visit. May we return to Selborne in a week or two?”

  Val’s gaze had inevitably moved to Vesper, lingering on her sweet face. “Make it next week,” he said. “In case you have not yet noticed, I am smitten with your daughter. Any time away from her will seem like an eternity.”

  McCloud could see the expressions of warmth and joy passing between Vesper and Val. I could not have planned this better, he thought gleefully. “Then it shall be next week,” he said. “Tell your lovely mother that we shall come to visit and stay for a time. We shall look forward to it.”

  Val sighed, realizing this would be his last glimpse of Vesper for at least a week. He didn’t like it in the least. “Very well,” he said. “Since you do not want anyone to approach your farm, my men and I shall come back to Bishop’s Waltham in eight days. We shall meet you in the square and escort you to Selborne. Will that be acceptable?”

  McCloud was precluded from answering when the buzz of the crowd grew to epic proportions and people began screaming about the capture of someone, or something. It was difficult to know because there was such a frenzy going on. Val was coming to think he should probably go and see what the fuss was about as shouted words filled the air around them.

  “The Angel has been caught!”

  “Come and see! We have him!”

  Val let go of Vesper and stepped into the street, grabbing the next frantic person who tried to run past him. It was a man, poorly dressed, flushed about the face. Val had him by his skinny arm.

  “Hold, there,” he commanded. “What has happened?”

  The man was panting, out of breath. “The Angel of Death has been caught! He was caught in the act and brought into town! They will hang him now!”

  Val frowned. “Angel of Death?” he repeated. “Who is that?”

  The man pointed to the center of town where everything was in an uproar. “The man who has been killing,” he insisted. “He killed two children near the river this morning and he was caught!”

  Val still wasn’t clear. “Where is Benton, the town’s sheriff?”

  The man was still pointing frantically towards the mob. “He has him!”

  With that, Val let the man go. The man ran off down the street. Scratching his head, Val made his way back over to McCloud and Vesper.

  “It seems as if they have caught a criminal,” he said. “I must go and see what has happened. You will return to Durley and remain there. I will see you in eight days, here in town. Is that understood?”

  McCloud nodded, as did Vesper. “Indeed, Val,” McCloud said. “But I have been thinking – since you asked me to be your man here in the south, would you not like for me to attend you also? I should know what is happening as well where it pertains to the law.”

  He had a point but Val was reluctant to involve Vesper in this, simply because she couldn’t be left alone while they went off to see what had happened. He was very conscious of the lady’s delicate senses when it pertained to distasteful matters.

  “Mayhap we should leave Vesper with the jeweler while we tend to this,” Val suggested. “She would not be interested in our business. My lady, would you like to pick out more pieces of jewelry until we return?”

  Vesper shook her head. “I am not a weakling woman,” she said firmly. “I am not easily bothered so if you do not mind, I shall go along with you. I find what you do very interesting and I should like to see you as you carry out your duties.”

  “There is nothing exciting about it, I assure you.”

  “May I not admire you as you complete your sworn duties?”

  When she put it that way, he could hardly refuse. More than that, Val could see such strength in her. But he could also see a taste of his life to come with her, which truthfully didn’t bother him. He rather liked a strong woman.

  “Very well,” he said, “but stay close. Do not wander off.”

  She nodded. “I will not, I promise.”

  His eyes twinkled at her, secretly glad he would not have to be separated from her yet. He took her over to the palfrey and lifted her up onto the horse’s back. Then, he mounted his steed as McCloud climbed onto the fat war horse.

  Everyone was still running towards the center of town – men, women, children, and the mood was something between a delighted frenzy and a terrified rant. It was odd to say the least, but once Val and Vesper and McCloud reached the e
nd of the avenue where it opened up into the town square, they could see just how many people had really gathered.

  The winter-dead grass of the square was being trampled by the excited group as Val spurred his horse onward, skirting the edge of the square and trying to catch sight of the town’s law, Benton St. Lo. This was actually called St. George’s Square, christened by the original Bishop of Winchester since this was his town, given to him by a long-dead king, and it was the usual gathering place for the town’s business, including executions.

  Val paused a moment, watching the flow of the crowd because that would more than likely lead him to the people he sought. He could see that the crowd was moving to the northeast where there was a great gathering on the other end of the square. Spurring his war horse in that direction, he loped along the edge of the square with McCloud and Vesper following him.

  Benton St. Lo wasn’t difficult to find; the man was exceedingly tall with a crown of frizzy red hair, so right away, Val caught sight of him. Forcing his horse forward to push through the crowd, he came upon St. Lo and his men, who had a man down on the ground, face down, bound tightly. Val could see that St. Lo’s men were beating on the man.

  “St. Lo!” he boomed in a controlled, commanding tone. “What goes on here?”

  Benton St. Lo turned to see the Itinerant Justice of Hampshire in his midst. His eyes widened at the sight and he stopped whipping the prisoner with a silver-tipped cat-o-nine-tails to hurry in Val’s direction.

  “My lord!” he said, clearly surprised. “I did not know you were in town!”

  Val peered around St. Lo as his men abused the prisoner. “Who is that man?”

  St. Lo turned to look this prisoner also. “A devil,” he said. “This man has been murdering for the past year, at least. He has been murdering villages and stealing their property. This morning, he drowned two children over in the Bishop’s marsh and he was caught.”

  There were so many people around that Val couldn’t really see the prisoner. Villagers were hitting him. All the while, St. Lo’s men continued to beat him.

  “Have you questioned the man?” Val asked.

  St. Lo nodded. “When he was brought to me, I asked him if he was the man the people were calling the Angel of Death,” he said. “He said that he wanted to go home.”

  Val’s brow furrowed. “And you took this as a confession?”

  St. Lo nodded. “People witnessed him killing the children,” he said. “He drowned them and stole their possessions. That is what the Angel of Death has been doing for a year around these parts.”

  “Why was I never informed about this outlaw?”

  St. Lo shrugged. “It was something my men and I were aware of. We knew we could capture him.”

  “But an entire year? You did not tell me?”

  St. Lo could see that he was in a rather precarious position; as the law of Hampshire, Val de Nerra should have been notified. Val was a powerful man with powerful connections and Benton didn’t want to fall from the man’s good graces.

  “I apologize if this offends you, my lord,” he said, “but I viewed this as a village matter. I did not want to bother you with it because I was sure we could find the man. And we have.”

  Val cast the man a look that suggested he was frustrated with his answer. Then he turned around to see McCloud several feet behind him and Vesper directly behind her father.

  “Did you hear that?” he called back to McCloud.

  McCloud put a hand to his ear, cupping it as if to hear better. “Hear what?”

  Val didn’t want to shout above the frenzied crowd. He simply motioned to McCloud to come forward. As McCloud tried to push through the hordes of people, Val dismounted his steed.

  “Get your men off of the prisoner,” he snapped quietly to St. Lo. “Bring the man to me.”

  St. Lo barked at his men, who were slow to stop kicking and punching the man on the ground. They were paid henchmen, really, a brute squad that Benton used to enforce peace in the town. Val pushed through the crowd, shoving people aside, as Benton walked beside him and did the same.

  Meanwhile, St. Lo’s men had hauled the prisoner to his feet and turned the muddy, beaten man in Val’s direction. Val could feel McCloud beside him, turning to see that Vesper was directly behind him. He found himself concerned about Vesper because of the crowd, reaching out to grasp her elbow and pull her up beside him. He didn’t want the woman touched by this rabid mob. Even though he was in the process of his duty, he still wanted to protect her.

  But the moment the prisoner was thrust forward towards him was the moment Val’s world changed forever.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Papa!” the prisoner screamed, tears and spittle flying from his face. “Papa, help me!”

  Val had no idea who the man was talking to. He reached out and grabbed the man by the chin, forcing him to look at him.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. “Tell me why these people believe you have murdered two children this morning.”

  The man was filthy, covered in mud and blood and bruises. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was stocky. It was clear that he was strong. But he wasn’t looking at Val; his gaze kept moving to McCloud.

  “Papa!” the man cried again. “Take me home! I want to go home!”

  It occurred to Val that McCloud had this man’s attention for some reason. When he turned to look at McCloud, the man’s face was sickly pale. He looked as if he was going to become physically ill.

  “McCloud?” he asked, confused. “Do you know this man?”

  McCloud tore his eyes from the prisoner, turning to look at Val. God help him, his worst nightmare had come true. This was a moment he’d been dreading, hoping to avoid, doing everything he could to make sure none of this came to pass. He’d almost made it home without Val coming to his farm, or seeing Mat, and he’d been counting on the fact that he’d kept the law of Hampshire away from his home where terrible things had happened.

  But… oh, God… it was not meant to be.

  He must have gone out to kill again, McCloud thought as he recognized his son’s muddy, bloodied face. He must have gone out to kill again and now he has been caught!

  McCloud had no idea what to say. To affirm Val’s question would only throw him into the mix of this rabid crowd, a criminal who had been an accomplice to a murderer. But to deny it would mean he would have to make that lie convincing. He would be lying to his long-time friend, a man whose money and support he wanted. He had to have it. Val was about to make it possible for him to lift his family out of poverty, but now, his murdering son had ruined everything.

  Mat had ruined everything!

  “Aye,” came the soft answer behind McCloud. “He knows the man. So do I.”

  Both Val and McCloud turned to Vesper, who was looking at the prisoner with a great deal of sorrow and contempt. When McCloud looked at her, looking as if he wanted to strangle her, she refused to meet his eye. Her gaze remained on the prisoner.

  “Will you tell him the truth, Papa, or shall I?” she asked softly.

  McCloud began to tremble. He had no choice now, forced by his honest daughter. “Vesper,” he hissed. “You will keep silent.”

  But Vesper wasn’t listening. Although she hadn’t seen her brother in eight years, she would never forget the man who had made her life miserable for so many years. He didn’t look all that different. But what was the most sickening was that he was about to make her life miserable for eternity as his shocking crimes were about to be revealed to a man she had come to adore. It didn’t matter that she’d only known Val for just a few short days; in that time, she’d come to clearly and unabashedly adore him.

  But now, it was at an end.

  All of it had been dashed in a mere few seconds as Mat d’Avignon’s face came into view. Her terrible, murdering brother had ruined her life again, this time for good. All of those hopes and dreams of marriage, of living happily as Val’s wife, had vanished like dust upon the wind.

  She
had nothing left to lose with a confession.

  “They were starving,” she said as she turned to Val, her features pale and her lips trembling with emotion. “The d’Avignon farm is in ruins and my father and brother were starving. I told you my brother is a simpleton; he is. His mind is like a child and, along with that mind, he has no sense of right or wrong. All he knew was that he was hungry, so he began to kill people to steal their food. That is how he and my father have kept fed this past year – by killing and stealing. The prisoner before you is my older brother, Matins d’Avignon, and, according to my father, he is, indeed, guilty of what he has been accused of.”

  Val felt as if he’d been hit by a giant fist, straight into his gut so that he could hardly breathe. It was a struggle not to stagger from the force of the blow. He looked at McCloud, who was hanging his head, eyes closed, as the reality of his once-proud life was laid bare. Val’s gaze lingered on McCloud’s head in shock before returning his gaze to Vesper.

  “Is this true?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  She nodded, feeling defeated. So very defeated. “It is.”

  “And you have known this all along?”

  She shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “Only since my father came to Eynsford two weeks ago. He told me what had happened and explained to me that it was my duty to marry well so that I could provide for him and my brother, so my brother could stop this murder spree. He made it sound as if it was my responsibility to fix the situation. That was why I was coming home, Val. It was my intention to return to Durley to see if something about the farm was salvageable, something that would feed my father and brother so that my brother would stop committing these crimes. Meeting you was purely accidental, I assure you, but you fell into my father’s plans quite well. He saw in you salvation for him and marriage for me. He also saw marriage to your mother as an added bonus.”

  If Val didn’t think he could be any more shocked, he was wrong. All he could think of was his mother warning him about McCloud and how the man seemed envious of Selborne and all that Val had. My God… was my mother right? Val began to reel with the wider implications of Vesper’s confession, on how he’d been too trusting of an old friend he’d not seen in years. Situations change; people change. Wasn’t that what his mother had been trying to tell him?