The Pawn

by Aston, Alexa

  Katelyn wanted to fire off a scathing remark but remembered she was at the mercy of this man and kept silent.

  Cummins nodded approvingly at her restraint. “Sit, my lady. ’Tis no request.” Once more, he motioned to the chair and she took it, perching on the edge.

  “Do you know why you’re here?”

  “I assume you want to hold me for ransom.”

  “Aye.” He studied her a moment. “I’d heard you were comely and now I know you’re clever, too. A lethal combination in a woman.”

  “Only for men who cannot handle it.”

  Cummins smiled broadly. “You are here so that I may gain gold, my lady. The king should pay well for the return of his cousin.”

  Katelyn decided to take a chance. “King Edward is far from Scotland, Laird. It would take a few weeks to send a messenger to Windsor—and that is if the king is in residence there. He might have gone to London. Or any of his other palaces. It could take some time to track him down. Even more to wait to be seen. You can’t imagine the number of courtiers who beg for his time every day. Then, he would need to decide if he even wanted to pay.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Cummins asked, leaning forward.

  She shrugged. “I’m not saying my cousin wouldn’t. He did send me north to wed.” She smiled sweetly. “In order to show Scotland how he stood strongly against them and with the north of England.” She paused and then sweetened the pot. “There are others who would pay—and much more quickly—for my return. You could have your gold in a day or so instead of months, while I could once more be sitting in front of a nice English fire, this misadventure behind me.”

  “You mean the Mandevilles,” he said. “You think they would pay for your return.”

  “Aye. My husband will.”

  “You have no husband,” Cummins pointed out. “He’s dead. Nay, the Mandevilles won’t want to part with gold for a woman wed only a few hours into their family. You may have taken their name, Lady Katelyn, but you are not one of them. They don’t welcome outsiders easily.”

  “You’re mistaken,” she said coolly. “My husband is not dead. He’s very much alive. And unless you return me soon, he will probably burn down half of Scotland in order to find me.”

  “Who is this husband?” insisted Cummins.

  “Lord Nicholas Mandeville. The Earl of Northmere,” she said proudly. Her hands went to her belly. “I might even be carrying his child as we speak. Nicholas will want me back. I suggest you arrange a trade—and soon.”

  “You were right,” the laird said, looking across the room as he spoke.

  “I told you,” a voice said as a man stepped from the shadows.

  It was Bryce Mandeville.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Bryce?” Katelyn shook with anger as he approached her. “How could you betray Nicholas—and your family? To be in league with your sworn enemies? ’Tis not merely disloyal. ’Tis treason.”

  He sneered at her. “Don’t speak to me about betrayal, Katelyn. Nicholas is the one who abandoned me. My brother threw me off his lands and ordered me never to return to my own home. Why would I show any loyalty toward him? Besides, I’ve always hated him. As the elder son, he got everything. My father always wished I could be the one to inherit Northmere for we were much alike.”

  Bryce reached out and grabbed her braid, coiling it around his fist, forcing her close to him. “Besides, with the trap we’ll lay for him, I’ll soon have my fondest wish.”

  Realization slammed into her. “You plan to lure Nicholas by using me as bait.”

  “You are wise beyond your years, my lady. Not only will Errol receive the gold he so desperately needs but I will lay claim to Northmere—and you.”

  “Me?” The thought appalled her.

  He chuckled. “Just think. You will be Countess of Northmere thrice over.”

  “I would never wed you. Not under any circumstances!” Katelyn shouted and raked her nails across his face.

  Bryce howled and cradled his cheek with his free hand, blood seeping between his fingers as he glared daggers at her. Then he slapped her. Katelyn’s head snapped as stars shot across her vision and her face flamed in pain.

  “The lady has a point, Bryce,” Errol Cummins interjected. “After you murder her husband?” The laird shrugged. “I doubt she’d feel any obligation to marry you.”

  “She’ll do what I say.” He yanked hard, winding her braid around his hand again until her scalp burned.

  “I’m not sure she will,” the Scotsman said. “Lady Katelyn’s a spirited one. Mayhap I should take her off your hands. Then you’d be free to wed another woman of your choosing. One more docile.”

  Cummins rose and came toward them. “Release her. Lady Katelyn is a guest in my home. I won’t see her mistreated.”

  Reluctantly, Bryce untangled his hand from her hair as her host looked to her. “I lost my wife in childbirth recently. All she gave me in five years were three useless girls. You look like you’d bear fine sons, my lady. I would be honored to become your husband.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t King Edward be surprised to find me in the royal family, wedded to his cousin?”

  “That wasn’t our bargain,” Bryce hissed. “She is mine!”

  Katelyn wanted to shrink from his anger but stood her ground. “I will never be yours.”

  He gave her a sly smile. “Oh, you will be. We got along well at Windsor and the entire way to Northumberland. ’Twas only after you met Nicholas that I lost your favor. With him dead and gone, you’ll see that I’ll make you a good husband. For now, though, I’ll do as Nicholas swore and was obviously too weak to accomplish. I’ll not touch you for a month to make sure your womb is empty.”

  She looked at him defiantly. “And what if I do carry his babe?”

  “If your courses don’t come, I suppose I could beat you severely enough to cause you to lose it,” he mused. “That might damage you, though, and I certainly want to get sons off you. Nay, I’ll wait and allow you to give birth to his brat—and then kill it.”

  Katelyn gasped. “What wickedness lies within you? You deserve to rot in the fires of Hell.”

  “Surely, you understand that even with Nicholas dead, any babe of his would have a claim to the earldom over me. I’ve waited too long to get what I deserve. I cannot chance that.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You will never have a chance with me, Bryce Mandeville.” Katelyn spit in his face.

  Bryce struck her with his fist. The blow sent her to the floor.

  “Enough!” cried Cummins.

  The laird latched on to her elbow and brought her to her feet. “Stay here, Mandeville,” he ordered as he led Katelyn from the room and across the hall.

  They entered a small bedchamber and he closed the door.

  “This will be your new home for the foreseeable future,” he said. “Two men will always be posted outside, as much for your protection as to make sure you don’t flee.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “I apologize on Mandeville’s behalf. Don’t worry about him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t mistreat you again.”

  “You still plan to partner with him and draw Nicholas out so that Bryce can kill his brother?” Katelyn shook her head. “You seemed to be wiser than that. If Bryce would betray his own flesh and blood, what’s to say he won’t do the same to you?”

  For a moment, she caught a flicker of doubt in the Scotsman’s eyes. He recovered quickly and said, “I’m sure you are tired, my lady. I will leave you to rest.”

  The laird exited the room and she heard his voice boom, assuming he called for a pair of men to come and guard her door.

  She’d bragged to the two men that Nicholas would be willing to pay for her but didn’t know if he truly would. He’d already told her he would seek an annulment. Why would he part with a goodly sum of gold when he planned to dismiss her from his life? As it was, only she knew why he would never ride to deliver the ransom, much less come to rescue her. A sightless knight would be no match against these bloodt
hirsty men. He would be a fool if he allowed his enemies to see that he was now blind—and Nicholas was no fool.

  Katelyn was on her own. Once more, she’d become a pawn in a political game that seemed to have no end. She curled up on the bed and wept.

  *

  Nicholas spied his squire and slowed Sunset as he reached him.

  “Are you holding up?” he asked Henfrey.

  “I’m fine, my lord. Where I landed on my head almost hurts worse than my shoulder.”

  He gave the boy a nod and allowed Sunset his head, galloping the rest of the way to Northmere. Waving to the gatekeeper, the gates opened before he reached them and Nicholas sailed through. The rain had slowed to a drizzle as he rode the horse to the stables.

  “He’s been ridden hard in the storm so take special care of him,” Nicholas advised the stable hand that took the reins.

  “Aye, my lord. ’Tis good to have you back.”

  Leaving the stables, he made his way to the keep, passing the deserted training field. He supposed Rafe had given the men a brief rest from their exercises because of the heavy rains. Nicholas looked forward to seeing the surprised look on his uncle’s face when he confronted the man.

  “My lord!” a woman’s voice called out as he crossed the inner bailey. He saw Elewys hurrying toward him.

  “I am happy to see you in robust health,” the healer said.

  “Thanks, in part, to you.”

  “I did what I could in the brief time I was there. I left you in good hands, though. Lady Katelyn is a most capable woman.”

  “That she is,” he agreed. “My squire will be arriving soon with an arrow protruding from his shoulder. Please attend to him quickly.”

  “I will, my lord.”

  Nicholas continued on his way and entered the keep. Ellyn descended the stairs. The minute she caught sight of him, she froze, her hands flying to her mouth. Then she rushed down the stairs.

  “Nicholas, are you truly well?” She lowered her voice. “You can see me?”

  “So Uncle told you.”

  “Aye. He refused to allow me to go to you.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “Rafe told me about his plans. I am glad to see you will keep him from acting upon them.”

  “I’ve always been fond of you, Aunt Ellyn.”

  She gave him a sweet smile. “And I’ve looked upon you as the son I never had.” Her eyes showed her sadness at being a barren woman.

  “Your husband will be leaving Northmere in the near future. You may go with him or choose to remain behind. I offer you my protection if Northmere is your choice.”

  Ellyn’s eyes widened. “Rafe would never allow me to stay though it would be my fondest desire. I would be happy looking after the children you and Katelyn have.”

  Nicholas placed his hands on her thin shoulders and pressed a kiss to her brow. “Kate and I would both like that. Especially with Mother gone, it would be nice for them to have a grandmother around.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I know Rafe has betrayed you in a most horrible way, Nicholas. He deserves whatever punishment you mete out. If you truly don’t mind having me stay, I would be forever grateful.”

  “Consider it done. Where is Rafe now?”

  She swallowed and lowered her eyes. “In . . . the solar. He’s already made it his own.”

  Nicholas fought the rage that raced through him at how presumptuous Rafe Mandeville proved to be. “Thank you. Make yourself scarce, Ellyn. Rafe will soon be gone.”

  He headed up the stairs, seething, but knowing he needed to control his temper as he dealt with his uncle a final time. Though part of him wanted to leave the experienced older man in charge of Northmere while he led a contingent of soldiers in search of Kate, the recent betrayal ran too deep for Nicholas to contemplate that. From the many capable knights in his barracks, he would select one to become his new captain of the guard.

  Not bothering to knock, Nicholas entered the solar and found his uncle at the table, papers strewn across it. Shock caused his face to lose all color and he dropped the quill in his hand.

  “Nicholas?” Rafe sprang to his feet, uncertainty in his eyes.

  “Aye, Uncle. The Earl of Northmere. The man whose ears heard you betray him in the worst way possible and whose eyes now see you have taken over my solar as your own.” He lifted one of the pieces of parchment and glanced at it briefly. “It seems you’ve also decided to take on my business, as well.”

  Rafe stepped away from the table. “Nephew, you must understand that I—”

  “I understand that you are no longer fit to serve as my captain of the guard, much less a servant whom I would allow to polish my boots. I expected your allegiance, Uncle. Your fidelity. To me. To our family. To the people of Northmere. You are the last man, next to Bryce, that I would ever trust.”

  Fear flashed in the older man’s eyes. “You . . . you would not dare to discard me as you did your brother,” he said, his voice trembling.

  “There’s no daring involved. Your treachery sealed your fate. The minute you threatened me—and Kate—you became dead to me. Get your things and leave.”

  “I will not!” his uncle spat out. “I was a knight who’d already killed dozens of England’s enemies on the battlefield before you were even born. This is my home as much as it is yours. You can’t merely wave me away with a flick of your wrist, Nicholas. I have years of experience that you cannot replace. Northmere’s proximity to the border is reason alone to keep me as captain of your guard. I refuse to let your head be turned by that woman—”

  “Enough!” Nicholas felt rage ripple through his body. “I am Earl of Northmere. Not you. I make the decisions for my land and my people. Not you. You’ve proven yourself untrustworthy, devoted only to yourself. After your betrayal, I could never rely on you to support me or do what is best for the people of Northmere. You are a snake, Uncle. A deadly viper whose poison I’ll abide no more. You should be glad I’m letting you leave with your life.” He paused. “And as for Kate? You aren’t fit to even say her name. She has more loyalty to me and Northmere in her smallest finger than you do in your entire body. Kate is the woman I love. The one I trust. You are nothing. Get out—now—before I change my mind and have you strung up and disemboweled.”

  Rafe’s shoulders slumped. Within seconds, he went from a proud, powerful knight to a broken man. Nicholas had no sympathy for him, though. Rafe had brought this upon himself.

  His uncle rallied and issued a final challenge to him. “What if your blindness returns? What will you do then?”

  “It was a result of my fall. My head no longer aches and the pressure that had been a constant is gone. I can tell you this, Uncle. I would rather command Northmere with Kate by my side than have you guide me. She may be a woman but she has the heart and courage of a man. And she loves me. Now, leave my sight before I have a mind to run my sword through you.”

  Rafe accepted his fate and silently left the solar.

  Nicholas doffed his wet clothes and dressed quickly in new ones. Without Henfrey to aid him in putting on his armor, it would take more time than he wanted to spend. He decided to go to the barracks and speak to his men directly. He would name his new captain and select the soldiers who would accompany him to Scotland and then have one of them help him don his armor.

  As he came down the stairs, he found Rafe lingering there.

  “Where is my wife?” his uncle demanded.

  “Aunt Ellyn will not be accompanying you. I wish her to stay at Northmere.”

  The knight’s face flushed dark red in anger. “Nay, Nicholas. She’s my property, to do with as I see fit.”

  “Ellyn is under my protection, Uncle. You will vacate Northmere without her. You haven’t been a husband to her in many years. Consider yourself a free man and no longer responsible for her.”

  “This doesn’t sound like you, Nicholas. I think your new wife has been influencing you in all the wrong ways. I have a mind to ride to the manor house and—”

 
; “She’s not there!” shouted Nicholas, his temper finally exploding. “The Scots have taken her.”

  Rafe grew still. A worried look crossed his face. “What are you planning, Nicholas?”

  He ground out, “I plan to fetch her and teach those bloody Scots a lesson they’ll never forget.”

  The nobleman took a step toward him. “You can’t do that,” he insisted.

  Nicholas glared at his uncle. “I’ve told you that I’m the earl, not you. The decision to act is mine alone. The Scots have gone too far, taking my wife. I will rain fire and brimstone down upon them for their cowardly act. Once I’m done, they’ll never even think to act against me again for decades to come.”

  “You will not,” Rafe said evenly. “You can’t, Nicholas. You’re thinking with your heart and not your head. Love has made you forget the delicate balance between our two countries.”

  “Scotland is England’s enemy, Uncle. And now they’ve made it personal by taking Kate hostage. No one can stop me from retrieving my wife from their slimy grip.”

  Rafe held up a hand. “Nicholas, think a moment. Put aside your quarrel with me. Remember that the king has made peace with them. If you cross the border with an army of soldiers and cause mayhem—all for one woman—you will start another war between our nations. I beg you, Nephew. Don’t do this. You will infuriate the king. Upset the balance. Anger the northern nobles.

  “You might even lose your own head for such foolishness.”

  “I would gladly lose my life to save Kate’s,” he insisted.

  “Think, Nephew,” Rafe insisted. “Calm down. Be rational for a moment. If you bring war down upon us, it won’t be merely you and Katelyn involved. It will be your soldiers. The people of Northmere. All of the nobles in the north and their soldiers and people. The peace now is a delicate one. What you suggest will plunge the north—nay, all of England—back into war.”

  The words pierced Nicholas’ soul. Rafe was right. The fragile peace between England and Scotland would be ruined if he led his men in search of Katelyn. It would take burning villages and the deaths of too many to count before he might locate where his wife had been taken. In the meantime, it would give the Scots an excuse to set aside the peace treaty as the two nations plummeted back into war.