Through The Leaded Glass

by Fennell, Judi

  He gave Tris one of the candles and they separated. Running as fast as he could in the treacherous tunnel, Alex was outside and climbing through an overgrown hedge in minutes just as Tris rode up with two pack-laden horses.

  “I’ve found his tracks, Alex, back that way. The mud has marked them well.”

  Alex prayed to God they weren’t far behind.

  ***

  Kate had one hell of a headache. She opened her eyes, the room swimming before her, the only light coming from a small fire on the other side of the room. That was odd. It should be full sun by now.

  She tried to focus, but couldn’t see much in the dim light. She looked up.

  No yards of crimson fabric hung above her head. Instead, it was…

  Stone.

  What? She’d been in bed after a delicious night with Alex, now she was—she wiggled her butt—sitting on some dirty hard floor in a cave?

  And, if that weren’t enough to freak her out, when she tried to move, she couldn’t. Her arms and legs were tied down. And her mouth—She’d been gagged!

  She twisted to one side, then the other, strands of hair sticking to her face and catching behind her head. She tried to spit out the gag as she squinted to see a thick rope binding her arms behind her. It was attached to a stake in the ground. She kicked her legs, but all she succeeded in doing was digging the ropes into her ankles.

  She screamed behind the gag—

  A grimy hand clamped over her mouth from behind. “Now, now missy, ye don’ want to make noise, else I might be havin’ to cut out yer tongue.”

  He held a knife in front of her.

  Kate froze as he drew the flat side of it across the tip of her nose.

  “You’ll be doin’ as I say now, won’t ye?”

  She nodded.

  He lowered the gag. “Not a sound or it goes back on.”

  She nodded.

  “Good. I knew ye’d see reason.”

  He released her to stand in front of her.

  Kate clamped her eyes shut.

  “What are ye doin’ that for?”

  “If I don’t see your face I can’t tell anyone who you are.”

  He laughed and the sound slithered down her spine. “And just when d’ ye think you’ll be havin’ the chance?”

  “Well... after you get the ransom.” Please, God, let this be about money. All of it: William, the ring, her. Fate wouldn’t have sent her back here to die, right?

  “Ah, Kate, you do amuse me.” His creepy laugh would’ve done Vincent Price proud, but his new speech pattern startled her into opening her eyes.

  Which she quickly slammed shut again, but not before getting a glimpse of an unkempt, disheveled man with an eye patch.

  She’d seen him before. But when? Where?

  “My dear Kate, hope does spring eternal in that foolish heart of yours.” He ran a finger down her cheek, the contact making her flinch. “There will be no ransom.”

  “No ransom?”

  “None,” he said, running a finger over her bottom lip. “Why should I ask Alex for what’s already mine?”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jonathan Griff checked his watch once more as his cart slogged eastward along the muddied road. How could it have gone wrong? Raphael, his superior, had said he’d had until today to save them. Kate’s appointment wasn’t for four more hours; he’d gotten the window there in more than enough time. He could have given it to Alex yesterday, but the timing was important. Rafael had impressed that upon him. So he’d waited until today, done his job, and now it should all work out.

  But nothing was going as planned. Not that that was anything new for him. Lord knew—and He did—that he tried. Every assignment. And he almost got them right. Almost.

  Now the gypsies were overly curious—and that was a big problem because Alicia’s scenario also needed impeccable timing and now was not it—and Alex wasn’t following the rules. Free will was good in theory, but how was Jonathan supposed to keep everything running smoothly with people making their own agendas? Boss, what he wouldn’t give for a crystal ball—not that those things worked for him anyway.

  One of the horses snuffled and the other neighed, both of them stopping at a fork in the road. Great. Now all he needed were highwaymen. Honest-to-The-Boss, this fifteenth century never got any easier to deal with. He much preferred the twenty-first, truth be told.

  He looked at the ground. It’d be just like him to throw a snake in the horses’ path. He was always trying to undo whatever good deeds Jonathan did and get him in trouble with his superiors.

  Jonathan looked in front of the animals. No serpents. This time.

  He jangled the reins, hoping to jump start them, but they just lowered their heads to munch on the soggy grass by the edge of the road.

  “Come on, boys. We’ve got the other one to help.” He clicked his tongue, but the horses just flicked their tails. This never happened with automobiles. Well, except that one time. But he’d learned to keep an extra gas tank on hand. But where did one keep an extra horse?

  Beyond the next hill apparently, if those neighs were anything to go by.

  Jonathan cocked an eyebrow heavenward. Divine assistance? He doubted it. Raphael had said he needed to do this one on his own if he wanted that promotion. And he did, but not at the sake of his Charges’ future and happiness.

  His horses, however, didn’t seem to care what the help was. When they heard the neighing, they pricked up their ears and started moving.

  In the wrong direction.

  “Silver, Trigger, this way.” Jonathan pulled on the reins. Silver looked back over his shoulder and Jonathan would have sworn—if he swore, which he didn’t—that the animal laughed at him.

  The horses paid him no attention and plodded south toward the neighing of what appeared to be not one, but many, horses. Great. Highwaymen. He was going to have to use that divine assistance anyway because there was no way he could deter a band of ruffians by himself, never mind erasing the incident from their memories.

  He was never going to get that promotion.

  Then Gregorio and his brothers rode over the hill.

  Jonathan groaned. He’d dealt with gypsies before; ruffians would be easier to deal with.

  ***

  Why ask Alex for what was already his?

  Kate tried to figure out what her kidnapper meant, but her brain, still fuzzy from whatever drug he’d given her, came up empty. None of this made any sense, and that monotonous drip of water somewhere in the cave only illustrated that time was passing. She had to get out of here if she wanted any hope of getting home. Twenty-first century home, not Shelton-home.

  Though Shelton sounded pretty damn appealing right now. Then again, so did Isobel’s vault room.

  Her abductor seized her chin in his hands, his breath hot and fetid on her cheek. She tried to turn her head, but he tightened his grip. She’d have bruises there later. Hopefully, that’d be the worst of her problems.

  “Open your eyes,” he snarled, shaking her.

  Yeah, she didn’t think so.

  “Open them or I’ll do it for you.”

  She opened them.

  Oh, God. She knew where she’d seen him. He’d almost knocked her down right before Rory’s mother had screamed.

  She didn’t like coincidences.

  He patted her cheek and stepped back, his gaze lingering on her chest. “Much better.”

  No, really, it wasn’t. She was at his mercy.

  Her self-defense instructor had said to keep a kidnapper talking. Humanize herself to him. It was worth a shot.

  And the only one she had at the moment.

  “Wha...” Her voice cracked in her parched throat. She licked her lips and tried again. “What did you mean when you said that what Alex has is already yours?”

  “You haven’t yet figured it out?”

  His gaze moved up to her face, thank God. And her sensei, too.

  “It means that Alex stole it all. Everything he
calls his, everything the king declared to be his, is mine. And I mean to have it.” He smiled a perfect horror-movie smile. “To his sorrow.”

  ***

  Nick met them at the meadow’s edge, his horse lathered with sweat, a contingent of Marston and Shelton men behind him. “Alex, I swear, Isobel had nothing to do with this—”

  “I know, Nick.”

  “So who did?”

  Alex exhaled. All sorts of possibilities jumped to mind, but he forced them back. “We don’t know yet, but we’re going to find him.” He pointed to the crushed grass in the field. “There. The rain was heavy enough to soak the ground, leaving us an easy trail to follow.”

  “That worries me,” Nick said, nudging his horse next to Alex as the men fell in formation behind them. “It’s as if he wants to be found.”

  “He can’t control the weather, Nick. That’s to our advantage. It makes tracking him easier. He’ll not get the best of me.” Not this time. Kate had found his ring, he and Kate had found William, now he would find Kate. They were fated to be together and this bastard would not undo that.

  Herald’s gait jostled the window against his back. He shouldn’t have left her alone. He should have kept her with him all night, gossip be damned.

  But he hadn’t. Because it would not honor Kate, and, after what Frederick had done, Alex did his best to restore honor to the family name.

  At least, that had been his plan. But now, with Kate missing, he wished he’d ignored his damn pride and kept her safe.

  He didn’t want the title. He wanted to be just Alex. Father of William. The caretaker of his family who would live his life contented and happy with a woman and child he loved. True, gold and land and royal favor were a privilege, but having lost Jeanne and their son, having faced William’s and now Kate’s abduction, Alex knew nothing was more important than his family. And, by God, he was going to see this bastard burn in Hell for harming them.

  They followed the trail through the meadow and were at the forest’s edge when the thunder of horse hooves came barreling toward them.

  His men circled around, swords drawn.

  ‘Twas Gregorio and his brothers.

  Alex sheathed his sword and nudged Herald through his men to meet the gypsies halfway.

  “We heard of Kate’s disappearance.” Gregorio reined his horse in. “What do you need from us?”

  Alex looked at the men before him and those who had ridden out with Nick. This was the measure of a man, the friendship and loyalty he inspired in others, not the title he wore. The knot in his throat thickened. “He has her.”

  “Then we’ll get her back.” Gregorio nodded toward the forest. “In there?”

  Alex cleared his throat. “The caves.”

  Gregorio nodded. They’d played in this forest as children. Had found the caves together. But there were so many. This bastard could have her anywhere.

  Alex led the men into the forest, the trail more difficult but not hidden. “Thomas,” he said when the trees at last gave way to the clearing by some of the caves. “You and your men take the cave over there by the ridge. Tris, take Charles’s contingent with you and find the one down the west side of the hill. Nick, you and the Marston men take the one on the side of that rise. Gregorio, you and your brothers will come with me to the one by the stream. I think that’s the best choice, as it’s near a water supply. If he’s planning to remain hidden for a while, he’ll need it.” He nodded at the men. “This is where we’ll meet, everyone. Be careful. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to plan an ambush.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Her kidnapper left her alone in the cavern. Kate wasn’t complaining, but she’d like to know if he was leaving for good or merely to get more wood. If not the former, she hoped it was the latter because this fire wasn’t going to last much longer and for Alex to find her, he’d need some clues. The light, the scent, and even the sound of wood popping weren’t the best, but since she couldn’t scream, they were the best she had.

  But she couldn’t count on Alex—well, yes, she could; she just couldn’t count on him knowing where she was or being able to find her. She had to act as if she were on her own.

  Taking a deep breath, she replayed her survival course. Figure out what weapons were at her disposal and what her best option was for getting free.

  The cavern was six or seven feet high and about that wide. The walls were jagged with crevices. She shuddered, praying she wasn’t sharing the space with a bunch of rodents. The two-legged rat in this cave was bad enough.

  The ceiling was dome-shaped and centuries of dripping water had pop-corned it with miniature stalactites. Only two tiny holes allowed even a glimmer of sunlight in. Nothing was getting out that way.

  She searched the earthen floor for something she could use to cut the ropes. Unfortunately, it was surprisingly—and frustratingly—free of debris except for a small pile of twigs and a tipped-over bucket beside it that held a tiny puddle of water, and clothing had been draped over a nearby rock—

  Her nightgown.

  Kate looked down. Oh, God. He’d changed her clothes. She was in her costume from the Renaissance Faire.

  Her skin crawled and she yanked on the ropes, but they didn’t budge.

  Damn him. This was not how she was going to end her life. She had plans, dammit. Emma, her job, her friends… Alex.

  She jerked the ropes again, but the it only made her fingers go numb. Same thing with her legs. She was stuck, and her only hope was to outwit this guy or hope Alex showed up soon.

  Neither were odds she liked, but they were the only ones she had.

  ***

  Alex found the bastard’s lair between a break in the trees: the horse that’d been missing from the stables was tied to a bush with the red-tailed hawk from the mews tethered near it. He’d recognize that hood anywhere—Frederick had spent an inordinate amount of time designing one “worthy of the Shelton name.” Who was this man?

  He and the gypsies dismounted in the trees above the cave. “I’ll go in first. You follow on my signal.”

  “We ought to take him together, Alex.”

  “Let me scout it, Silverio. I don’t want to give him any warning. Just watch my back.”

  He untied the window from Herald. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to give it to Kate, but if it came to her life or his goodbye, there was no choice. He couldn’t live with himself if she died in his time, but he could live knowing she was safe in hers.

  He ducked behind a bush, then felt Gregorio come up behind him. “I guess it’d be useless to tell you to stay with your brothers.”

  “Good guess.”

  They crept toward the cave, navigating the loose stones and branches littering the forest floor. “I’m going in over that ledge,” Alex whispered.

  Gregorio nodded and held out his hand. “Give me the parcel. I’ll hand it to you when you’re down. I assume this is important enough to take with you?”

  “You have no idea.” He handed it over, then crawled down to the ledge overhanging the cave’s entrance.

  Just in time. Pebbles bounced out of the cave.

  Alex flattened himself onto the overhang and Gregorio slipped behind a large evergreen, taking the window with him.

  And then he emerged.

  Alex’s gut tightened and he reached for his knife as the man peered out from the cave. Step out, you bastard.

  The man did, but it was to head in the opposite direction. He took the hawk from its perch, then returned to the cave.

  Alex wanted to kill him. Had never wanted to kill anyone as badly as he did then.

  “I’m going in,” he whispered to Gregorio. “Send one of your brothers back to gather Nick and the others, then come after me. Bear left when you go in. And bring that parcel.”

  Gregorio nodded and slipped back the way they’d come. Alex climbed carefully over the edge. God above only knew what that whoreson had done to Kate. He had to get to her. He had his sword and the element of surprise on
his side and a well-honed knife in his boot.

  And Kate would have the window.

  Taking care not to slip on the damp moss clinging to the rock around the opening, Alex climbed down, then drew his sword, and entered the cave.

  ***

  “So, dear Kate, did you miss me?” The prick showed up with a hawk on his arm.

  The hawk. From the field that day. She’d seen him. “You stole that from Alex!”

  “You forget. I don’t need to steal anything. It’s all mine. Alex stole it from me.”

  “What are you talking about? Alex is the earl. Everything belongs to him. What’s he done to you to make you hate him so much?”

  “What has he done?” The asshole set the bird on a perch in a small niche. Poor thing was as much a prisoner as she was. “What hasn’t he done? It’s Alex. It’s always been Alex. Alex the perfect son, Alex the great knight, Alex the landholder.” He spat. “Alex has always led a charmed life. He’s had his face and good cheer to commend him. Then he had his land first, a wife first, an heir first, when it should have been mine!” He slammed a fist against the wall. “Mine!”

  Kate stared at him. It wasn’t possible...

  He looked at her and that horror-movie smile spread across his face again. “You know, don’t you? You know who I am.”

  “But... but...” She swallowed. “You... you’re… Frederick is dead!”

  “No, my dear, I am very much alive.”

  “But they buried you.”

  “Again, you’re wrong. They buried some poor, disfigured peasant in my coat. ‘Twas a better burial than the man could have ever hoped to see. So, you see, we both fared well from his death.”

  Kate tried to wrap her mind around this turn of events. “But you were killed in battle.”