“Trenton,” Lysabel called after him.
He paused before he came to the gate, but he didn’t turn to look at her. He was afraid of what would happen if he did. “What is it?”
She didn’t answer right away. Trenton remained where he was, facing the garden gate, when he heard the gravel crunch behind him. Startled to realize that she was now standing behind him, he kept his face away from her, closing his eyes tightly because he didn’t want to see her. Instead, he felt a small, warm hand slip into his.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Until the end of all things, I will love you and only you.”
She squeezed his hand, once, and then she was gone. He heard her footfalls as she ran the other direction, heading for the small gate the led into the keep. He heard the gate open and then crash shut, the iron hinges squealing.
After that, there was complete silence in the garden except for the sounds of the bailey on the other side of the wall. The sun was down completely now and the servants had all gone inside, leaving Trenton standing alone in the dark.
It was fitting, he thought, that his love for Lysabel first started here and now, it had ended here. Only it wasn’t ended; it would never be ended. He was tied to her as surely as the stars were tied to the heavens.
Covering his face, he wept.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Penleigh House
12 miles northwest of Westbury
Dane and Cort could smell the stench before they even saw the banners. But once they entered the rather unguarded courtyard of Penleigh House, a beautiful manor home that was part of Trenton’s properties, they saw a collection of soldiers clustered over near the small stables and they saw the white standards with the small black crosses stitched onto them.
Dane turned to Cort in disgust.
“Bretons,” he growled.
Cort had that same look of disdain on his face. “Smelly, self-righteous fools,” he said. “They probably live here with her. When is the last time Da or Trenton was here, anyway?”
Dane shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. Then, he looked around. “But I am sure any sentries are not de Russe. Wait – see them over by the corner of the wall? There are just two of them. Who in the hell are those bastards? This is Trenton’s property – there should be de Russe men guarding the walls.”
Cort was looking around, too. “There is no one guarding the walls,” he said. “See how easily we entered? Utterly stupid.”
Dane couldn’t disagree. The came to the edge of the well-lit house, dismounting their horses and tying them off on an iron post. There was a water trough, made of stone, and the horses began to drink, but neither Dane nor Cort would stable the animals. If they were to make a swift exit, then they wanted the beasts ready to go.
It had taken them two days to reach Penleigh, and they’d ridden hard, stopping only to rest the horses. Now that they were here, their sense of outrage was magnified as they saw absolutely no de Russe trappings around the place. Penleigh House was a moated manor house that was shaped like an “L”, not particularly large, with a separate kitchen yard, stables, and an area where the trades, such as tanning and smithing, took place. All of it was fairly tightly compacted together inside the moated enclosure.
It was a rich place, and evidently poorly protected. They could hear noise and music coming from within the house, and the smells of roasting meat wafted upon the air. Over to their left, the Breton group had spied them and suspicious whispers could be heard, like gasps upon the wind, and Dane turned in their direction, unsheathing his broadsword in a blatant effort to show the group that he and Cort weren’t to be trifled with.
Already, there was tension in the air.
When Cort finally headed for the house, Dane was behind him, walking backwards to ensure that none of the Breton soldiers were going to try and follow. Once they reached the elaborately carved entry door, which was open, they were met by a haughty servant who spoke French, inquiring their business. Cort didn’t hesitate in his answer.
“Dites à la comtesse que les frères de son mari sont là,” he said sharply. Tell the countess that her husband’s brothers are here. “Nous irons dans une chamber privèe.”
The servant’s eyes widened as two very big men came through the doorway, demanding to see his mistress in a private chamber. One was very big, and very dark, looking very much like his mistress’ husband, so that alone told him that these men were telling the truth.
The House of de Russe had arrived.
Nervously, the servant indicated a chamber that was just off the entry and scurried away. The chamber seemed to be some kind of guard room, for it was tiny, with a hearth, a table and chair, and little else. That chamber was in stark contrast to the entry itself, which was lavishly furnished and meant to impress. Dark woods, carved and intricate, lined the walls, while overhead, Breton banners hung. There was absolutely nothing to indicate this was a de Russe property and Cort eyed Dane, who was taking it all in with disgust.
“Look at this place,” Cort hissed as he entered the small chamber. “If I did not know this was Penleigh, I would think I was in Brittany.”
Dane cocked an eyebrow. “Can this woman get any lower with her degradation of the de Russe name?” he muttered. “This is astonishingly shameful.”
“And it has been going on for years,” Cort whispered angrily. “How long has she been doing this? How long?”
Dane felt Cort’s outrage. In fact, he had quite enough of his own. “Too long,” he said. Then, he jabbed a finger at Cort. “But this is going to stop, do you hear? This will be the end of it.”
Cort nodded, his jaw ticking as he pulled off a heavy glove to scratch his forehead. He was appalled with the situation; it was much worse than he imagined.
“I have a feeling we are too late with a bribe,” he muttered. “She is ingrained in Penleigh like vermin on a dog. She is not going to let this go easily.”
Dane was thinking the same thing but he wasn’t going to voice it. The situation was repulsive in so many ways – with Adela turning Penleigh into a place in Brittany rather than the proud de Russe property that it was, and Trenton trying to block it all out by staying away and serving the king. Not that he blamed his brother; he didn’t. But the man was helpless against it, with a wife and the church telling him this was to be his life. His solution was to ignore it.
But Dane’s solution was to end it.
That’s what brothers did for one another.
So, he went to stand by the window, plotting out what he was going to say to Adela as Cort hissed and complained. He finally put up a hand to silence the man because he didn’t want Adela to hear the discord. He wanted her to think this was a friendly visit, at least for the time being.
In truth, Dane had been plotting out what he was going to say on the entire ride here. Cort thought they should simply grab her and run, but Dane wanted to be a little less obvious about it, especially since she clearly had guests. Even though the security at Penleigh was surprisingly lax, there were still Breton soldiers in the yard and unless they wanted a confrontation, whatever they did was going to have to be smooth and fast, with no screaming, and no obvious signs that they were taking the countess away.
But they were going to take the woman and run.
“What do you want?”
It was thickly-accented English that filled the chamber, and Dane and Cort turned to see Adela, Countess of Westbury, standing in the doorway.
Neither man had seen her in years, both of them remembering a rather plain, dull-looking woman. Nothing had changed. She was short, with a round body, and only average in beauty, but she was wearing a dress that was so elaborate and encrusted with jewels and pearls that it had to weigh at least fifty pounds. Her dark hair was slicked against her skull until it was gleaming, and a pearl-encrusted French hood dominated her big head. Had she had any warmth at all on that pale face, she might have been pleasant to look at, but as it was, she only looked cold and empty. They could read her
hatred of everything they loved all over her.
“My lady,” Dane greeted her without emotion. “We have come on important business. May be speak somewhere private?”
Adela’s eyes narrowed. “What business?” she demanded. “What are you doing here, Dane de Russe? You were not invited here. I demand you leave immediately.”
Dane could see that, already, this was going poorly and he wasn’t going to let the woman bully him. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them.
“I would be most happy to shout our business to your guests, if that is what you prefer,” he said, “and like it or not, this is a de Russe property and your husband, my brother, pays for your extravagant little habits. Why is there not a Westbury banner flying in the entry alongside the Breton colors?”
Adela eyed him most unhappily. “Get out,” she hissed. “I do not want you here.”
Dane’s jaw ticked. “I do not care what you want,” he said. “This is my brother’s property, not yours. I am welcome whether or not you like it. Now, will you take us to someplace private, or will I shout your personal business for all to hear?”
Adela’s round face flushed, her cheeks turning pink. She was unused to anyone countering her commands in her own home. With a grunt of displeasure, she turned her back on Dane and Cort and began to march away. They quickly followed, making sure she didn’t get away from them, as she pushed open an elaborately paneled door and entered a darkened hallway. At the other end, they could see lights glowing, and they entered what appeared to be a solar.
There was a fire in the hearth, illuminating the opulent surroundings. Dane couldn’t help but notice, casually, but Cort was less subtle about it. He was looking around with his mouth hanging open. There were fine furnishings and flashes of gold everywhere, and it became abundantly clear what Adela had been doing with Trenton’s money. So far, they’d seen two rooms that were spectacularly furnished and Adela was wearing enough jewels to feed a small village for a year. As the two of them inspected the room, Adela slammed the door behind them.
“Now,” she said. “What is so important that you would take me from my guests? And be swift; I have no time for your foolishness.”
Dane took another look around the room, noting that one set of glass windows overlooked the courtyard where they’d come in. They were at the opposite end of the courtyard from the Breton soldiers, which was a good thing if he decided to kick out the window and take Adela with him.
He returned his attention to her.
“It is not foolishness I bring, but a business proposition,” he said.
Her features tightened. “What business?”
Dane could see Cort moving in his periphery, heading to the door that Adela had just slammed with the intention of blocking her should she try to run. That gave Dane the confidence to say what he needed to say without her trying to bolt from the chamber. There was a table behind him. He sat back on it, smiling thinly at Adela’s annoyed face.
“We have not seen each other in several years, Adela,” he said. “You could not even be polite when you greeted me. Why must you act as if I am a stranger? I am your husband’s brother.”
Adela stiffened. “Did he send you here?” she demanded. “What does he want?”
“Trenton?” Dane shrugged lazily. “Nothing from you. He cannot stand the sight of you much as you cannot stand the sight of him. He doesn’t care about you in the least, and I am sure the feeling is mutual. Therefore, Cort and I have come of our own accord with a business proposition.”
Adela’s dark-eyed gaze moved between Dane and Cort. “Clowns, both of you,” she hissed. “What possible business could you have with me?”
Dane cocked an eyebrow. Now he remembered why he hated the woman so much. “You have an eye for money, like any good whore,” he said. “And since you are a whore for money, my proposition has to do with paying you a good deal of it. How much would it take for you to leave Penleigh and go back to Breton where you belong?”
Her face turned a deep shade of red. “Swine,” she growled. “How dare you…”
He cut her off. “You only stay with my brother, and at Penleigh, for the money,” he said. He pointed to her dress. “How much did that awful thing cost? You look like a fool in it. So tell me, Adela – how much will it take for you to leave England, and my brother, and never again contact him.”
Adela was so angry, so offended, that she was sweating. She turned to leave the room but saw Cort standing in front of the door, blocking her path. Realizing she was boxed in only made her angrier.
“Get out of my way,” she snarled at Cort.
He grinned at her as Dane spoke. “He is not moving until you tell me your price,” he said. “Everyone has a price.”
Adela turned to him swiftly, backing away from Cort and heading in the direction of the hearth with its gently snapping fire. The first thing she came across was the fire poker, and she lifted it, wielding it like a sword.
“I said get out of my way,” she hissed. “I shall not discuss this with you. I have every right to remain here, as the Countess of Westbury, and you cannot make me leave with your pathetic attempts.”
Dane didn’t move. He remained perched on the table even though he was in range of the fire poker should she decide to swing it at him.
“You married my brother because your father forced you to,” he said. “Much as my father forced Trenton to marry you. It was not your doing, nor was it Trenton’s, but the two of you were unfortunately thrown together. Surely you cannot be happy here.”
Adela was backing away from the men, feeling extremely threatened. “That is none of your affair.”
“It is a simple statement with an obvious answer.”
Adela paused, looking between the two knights. “Do you truly wish to know how I feel?” she said. “I cannot stand the stink of the name de Russe on me. I cannot stand the English around me, so I pay my friends to come and stay with me. Even now, I am hosting a grand party for my friends. Do you know what we do? We toast our hatred of the English, and of my husband, as we drink the wine and eat the food that his money has provided. When I saw you had come, I was hoping that you had come to tell me of his death, but I see that I am not so fortunate. Mayhap the next time you come to me, it will be with good news such as that.”
It was a vile thing to say, hatred beyond measure. It was an effort for Dane not to react to it because he would have liked nothing better than to snap the woman’s neck.
“Your husband is alive and healthy,” he said. “But your words tell me just how evil you truly are, Adela. I have never seen anyone with a heart as black as yours.”
Adela threw up her chin. “What do I care what you think? You are interrupting my party.”
Dane lifted a hand. “We do not have to,” he said. “We can be quickly done with this. We want to know how much we can pay you to disappear. You are a disgrace to the House of de Russe and a shame for my brother to bear. Do you think he does not know about the men you bring to Penleigh? I am sure there are a few whore mongers among those friends you have brought into my brother’s house. How many will you take to your bed tonight?”
Adela was turning red again and she lifted the poker in his direction. “You will not say such things to me!”
“Then deny it. I dare you.”
She bared her teeth at him. “You are a swine,” she growled. “Like your older brother, you are a disgusting excuse for a man and I loathe the sight of you. Get out of my house, do you hear? Get out and never return!”
Dane was unimpressed with her anger. “It is not your house,” he said, “and if you do not name your price, you will be very sorry.”
“I said get out!”
“Nay.”
With a furious cry, she took a swipe at him with the poker. Dane was fast enough to grab it, yanking it from her grip. Unfortunately, the momentum of her swing, and his grab, caused her to topple over backwards and, with the weight of her dress, she wasn’t able to catch hersel
f. As Dane and Cort watched, Adela fell back into the hearth, right into the blazing flames.
It was a shocking event and she had been unable to catch herself. Unfortunately, her dress, with all of its jewels, was made of very flammable material, and she went up in an instant. Within a second, her entire skirt was in flames, tearing into her undergarments. That which wasn’t in flames was seared against the flesh of her lower body, which also started to burn. Very quickly, everything but her face and arms was on fire, and Cort rushed forward to pull her out of the hearth, but Dane stopped him.
“Nay,” he said, watching the woman as she was rapidly consumed with fire. “It is too late. She is already badly burned. You cannot save her.”
Nor did they truly want to. Engulfed in yellow flames, Adela’s screams were muffled as smoke and fire traveled down her throat. No longer able to cry out, she tried to push herself out of the hearth, but her entire body was on fire. Everything was burning. Soon enough, she could no longer move, and she simply collapsed into the hearth in a burning mess. The room began to fill with dark, black smoke, and the great tapestry above the hearth went up in flames, as did the entire side of the room. It was a shocking sight.
“Come,” Dane said, realizing there was nothing they could do. “We must get out of here or we, too, shall be ash. Come!”
Cort, horrified at what he was seeing, followed his brother as the man kicked out the windows overlooking the bailey. As the two of them bailed from the chamber, the entire thing went up in flames. The wooden walls, the fabric drapery, and the tapestries made it a tinderbox. They’d barely jumped from the window before flames began shooting out of it.
With one chamber up in flames, the floor above it began to go up in smoke and flames also, and Dane and Cort backed away from the blaze as they watched the entire side of the house catch fire. The structure was not made of stone, but from wattle and daub, which was pieces of tinder-dry wood layered with things like lime and chalk, sometimes mud, but whatever the house was built with went up like a torch. On the interior, with all of the expensive woods and furnishings, and the ingredients used to treat the wood, it only made more fuel for the fire.
The Dark Brotherhood: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 56
