by Jody Hedlund
I collapsed into my chair.
“I’m sorry, your ladyship,” the abbot said.
“That doesn’t mean —” I couldn’t bring myself to accuse Derrick.
“Several servants saw Sir Derrick inside the sheriff’s estate last night.”
All eyes turned on Derrick, who stood frozen next to the duke, his face a stony mask. I silently begged him to explain himself, to tell us that he hadn’t broken in to the sheriff’s house again, that he hadn’t sought revenge against the sheriff for the altercation in the market square yesterday.
But he remained silent.
To my relief, the duke spoke. “There must be some mistake. Sir Derrick never made any mention of going out last night —”
“I did go there last night, your Grace,” Derrick said. “But I only went to investigate. I have my suspicions that the recent outbreaks of illness in Lady Rosemarie’s lands are related to the sheriff somehow, and I only wished to find evidence of such.”
“And so while you were there, you got into another fight?” the abbot asked.
“I didn’t seek out the sheriff,” Derrick said, shaking his head. “I had no wish to fight him.”
The abbot’s eyes narrowed. “Only to murder him —”
“Please refrain from accusing my knight until you have solid evidence.” The duke’s voice was low and edged with anger.
“I think we have plenty of evidence,” the abbot said in an equally hard tone. “Everyone in town heard Sir Derrick tell the sheriff yesterday that he would cut his heart out. Even I have learned of it. And if that’s not enough, we have Sir Derrick’s own admission he broke into the sheriff’s estate last night. What more do we need?”
“We need more than assumptions,” the duke said.
“You know as well as I do that Sir Derrick is already close to censure for all of the accidents regarding his friends Sir Bennet and Sir Collin,” the abbot replied.
I sat forward to the edge of my seat in surprise. I’d known the sheriff had questioned Derrick, but I hadn’t known the lawman was seriously considering Derrick as a suspect.
“He’s in no way to blame for the murder attempts,” the duke countered calmly, although his eyes and nose flared with barely concealed anger. “He’s one of my most trusted men. I would put my life into his hands. And I know they would do so for each other. They aren’t capable of perpetrating what you say.”
I glanced to where Sir Bennet and Sir Collin stood. Their faces were as hard as their leader’s, eyes flashing with resentment directed at the abbot. They obviously didn’t accuse Sir Derrick either.
“But the circumstances are quite unusual, are they not?” The abbot’s brow lifted and crinkled against the ring of hair that surrounded his bald head. “Since when have your men had to compete against one another for the most desirable woman in the land?”
“We may be competing with each other” — Sir Collin pushed away from the wall — “but we would never seek to harm one another.”
“I’ve seen the discord between you,” the abbot said. “We all have.”
I thought back to the dance, when the men had almost come to blows with one another.
“No matter the tensions we’ve experienced this month,” Sir Collin spoke again, “we aren’t murderers.”
“Perhaps that’s true of you and Sir Bennet, who both have land and wealth to speak of,” the abbot said. “But since Sir Derrick has none, he has much more to gain in the union.”
Derrick stood immobile, his back stiff, his chin held high. Why would he not rise to his own defense? Surely he could say something to deflect the abbot’s condemnation . . .
Unless he was guilty.
As soon as the thought came, I thrust it aside. I cared about him too much to think him guilty even if all the evidence said otherwise.
“My knight would never harm his friends,” the duke insisted. “They’re like his brothers. And he has no reason to hurt them, not when he’s capable of winning Lady Rosemarie’s heart without resorting to such methods.”
The abbot shook his head. “One of my servants overheard Sir Derrick telling her ladyship that he didn’t consider himself worthy enough for her. Perhaps he thought his only hope was to eliminate his competition.”
I couldn’t keep from thinking back to the innocent comments both the duke and Derrick had made concerning his jealousy. Derrick had said he couldn’t guarantee the safety of the other two knights if I spent any more time with them. And the duke had said he was glad I’d chosen Derrick because he was afraid Derrick would harm his friends with his jealousy.
I’d believed them to be jesting. But what if Sir Derrick was more reckless than I’d imagined?
The abbot cleared his throat and spoke again. “Can you explain why these unfortunate accidents have happened only to Sir Collin and Sir Bennet — first the shooting and poisoning, and then the fallen tent and the horse losing its shoe? Why have both of them suffered such attempts and not Sir Derrick?”
Sir Bennet had stepped next to Sir Collin, and his dark gaze narrowed on the abbot. “Perhaps Sir Derrick is being set up by one who doesn’t wish him to win Lady Rosemarie’s heart, especially since he appears to be succeeding at it.”
The abbot’s eyebrow rose again. “Are you laying claim to the misdeeds then, Sir Bennet?”
“You know that I’m not.” His voice was rigid and his glare narrow. “I believe there is one who has greater motivation —”
The duke stopped Sir Bennet with a touch to his arm.
Sir Bennet clamped his lips closed, but his chest was puffed with the words he apparently wanted to speak.
“Of course you’ll want to defend your friend,” the abbot said in the measured, calm tone he always used. “But now, with all the evidence of the sheriff’s murder pointing directly at Sir Derrick, we have no choice but to lock him up.”
Sir Collin’s and Sir Bennet’s protests echoed through the Great Hall.
“If not for your safety, sirs,” the abbot said, “then for her ladyship’s? You surely would not wish to see any harm befall her? Would you?”
Suddenly, Derrick stepped forward, his gray eyes blazing like the white heat of a hearth fire. “She had better not get hurt.” His voice was ragged.
Only then did the abbot look at Derrick, holding his gaze for a long moment. “If you wish your friends and her ladyship to be free of danger, then I think it best that you hand yourself over. Don’t you agree?”
Beneath the layers of my gown, my legs trembled in fear for Derrick, of what would befall him. He was being accused of murdering the sheriff and treachery against his companions. And there seemed no way to refute the evidence.
As if coming to the same conclusion, the duke finally nodded at Derrick, as though trying to reassure him, before turning to the abbot. “Very well, Father Abbot. If you must lock up Sir Derrick, I ask that it be in one of the chambers.”
“I concur,” I said. “We can post a guard outside his door.”
The abbot didn’t turn to acknowledge me, but instead continued to direct his conversation to the duke. “If he’s not in the dungeon, what’s to prevent him from trying to escape?”
“Because he’s a man of honor,” the duke replied.
The abbot only shook his head, his face filled with scorn.
“In the meantime,” the duke continued, “Sir Collin and Sir Bennet and I will commence a thorough investigation to find evidence that he’s innocent.”
“He deserves death by hanging for taking the life of the sheriff,” the abbot said bluntly. “The law demands it. The people will expect it. And justice must be served. If not, I cannot guarantee what may happen.”
The abbot’s words dripped with a foreboding and an undercurrent of threat.
“If I hand myself over and allow you to lock me in the dungeon,” Derrick said, “then you’ll guarantee Lady Rosemarie’s safety?”
Surely he didn’t think I was in danger.
“You d
on’t have to do this, Derrick.” Sir Collin’s harsh whisper echoed in the silent hall. “We’ll find another way.”
Derrick spun and glared at his friends. His face was carved granite, his eyes iron. Their expressions pleaded with him.
I didn’t want to meet Derrick’s gaze, but when he turned his on me, I had no choice. He studied my face and something within his eyes pleaded with me to believe him, to trust him.
I wanted to. I didn’t think him capable of murdering the sheriff or harming his friends. But with so much evidence against him, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. I had to get to the bottom of all that had happened too. “Rest assured, I shall start my own investigation into all the recent happenings as well.”
But as I spoke, disappointment filled Derrick’s eyes, as if he’d expected more from me than what I’d given him. “Call the guards,” he said in a hard voice to the abbot, “and you may lock me up.”
Even as he spoke the words, my heart gave a thump of protest. I knew I should have added my objection to that of Sir Collin and Sir Bennet. But how could I proclaim him innocent until I found the real culprit?
As the guards came forward reluctantly and bound Derrick’s hands, I turned to the abbot. “I don’t want him in the dungeon.”
“I know how disappointing this is to you, my child,” he said while starting down the steps of the dais. “But ‘tis best you learn of his true nature before it is too late.”
Disappointment didn’t quite encompass my feelings. It was much more complicated than that. Something about the situation wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the moment, but knew I wouldn’t rest until I learned what was going on.
“Don’t worry,” Sir Bennet called as the guards led Derrick away. “We’ll discover who’s really behind all the murder attempts. And we’ll set you free.”
His words echoed my thoughts exactly. I willed Derrick to turn around and see the determination in my face and eyes, but his head was bent and his shoulders slumped, and as my guards ushered him through the Great Hall, he didn’t glance my way again.
I pressed my face into my hands as I knelt at the prayer altar. Except for the abbot’s soft murmurs in Latin, the chapel was silent.
In fact, the entire castle was silent, as if in mourning with me for all I’d lost.
The truth was I’d grown to care about Derrick more than I’d ever dreamed possible. But now with all the accusations, especially one as serious as murder, there didn’t seem any way possible that I would be able to finish discovering if Derrick had fallen in love with me and I with him.
Maybe God was sending me a sign that I was destined for a life in the convent after all.
“Oh God,” my heart cried out. “Then why did you allow me to care about Derrick so much? Why did you let me experience the love of an earthly man if I’m destined for a life with only you as my bridegroom?”
Had the whole month been simply a test to show me my true destiny? The anguish in my heart spread to every limb, every nerve, every muscle in my body.
“He played you falsely, your ladyship,” the abbot said, standing above me, dangling a long wooden cross on a golden thread from his hand. “He knew if he withheld himself from you, if he was more aloof and acted unworthy of your attention, you would be drawn to him.”
My chest constricted. Was that what Derrick had intended? If so, it had worked. I’d most certainly been attracted to him.
“He was crafty.” The abbot’s voice contained an unusual edge. “But I suppose he decided he’d safeguard his claim on you by scaring away — or killing — the other two men.”
I still couldn’t believe Derrick was capable of harming his friends. I’d immediately sent guards to begin an investigation. Even so, my time was running out. I’d had so little to begin with. And even if I could find a way to prove his innocence, I doubted there would be enough hours left to finish getting to know one another and truly decide if our affections were indeed love.
“He’s not worth the sorrow, your ladyship,” the abbot said more gently.
At a clearing throat at the back of the chapel, I finally lifted my face and tried to pull myself out of my pit of despair.
“Excuse me, Lady Rosemarie,” came the duke’s voice.
I rose from my prayer cushion and tugged my veil over my face. I was in mourning and I didn’t care who knew about it.
“I’ve sent the guests home as you requested,” he said, coming down the aisle toward me. He was dressed in his suit of armor, his helmet tucked under one arm, his sword sheathed at his side.
“Thank you, your Grace.”
Faint light poured through a round stained glass window above the altar. The candles in the wall sconces had been lit. Even so, the duke’s face was dark.
“My men and I are ready to depart.”
I nodded. “I wish you Godspeed in your searches.” Even if any of us found enough evidence to clear Derrick’s name, I doubted he’d want to proceed with our courtship, not after the humiliation of his arrest. Any respect I gained from him had certainly been lost when I’d failed to take better charge of the situation. I’d proven myself a weak leader once again.
With only a week until my eighteenth birthday, the odds of getting married seemed suddenly insurmountable.
In some ways, it seemed wiser to resign myself once again to entering the convent. I couldn’t hold back a sigh of disappointment. Perhaps I needed to begin the move to the monastery guesthouse, even though my heart resisted the thought.
The duke reached for my hands and folded them between his. “I know you’re confused and hurt. And I never meant for that to happen.”
“This is exactly what I was afraid would happen,” started the abbot.
The duke cut him off with a sharp look. “Will you promise me two things?” he asked me gently.
“Anything.”
“I know it’s tempting to think that the situation is hopeless and that the contest ended in failure. You might even think it’s in your best interest to go to the convent now.”
I nodded. He’d read my mind.
“But there may yet be hope,” he said. “Will you wait the full week before you go?”
The abbot released an exasperated breath. But the duke continued before I could add my protest. “I just need one week,” he pleaded. “Please?”
What good will come of one more week? Except that it would drag out my heartache and postpone having to accept my fate.
The expression on the abbot’s face echoed my thought. But I nodded anyway. How could I deny my old friend his request? “If you wish it, I shall wait one more week.”
“And one more promise, dear one.” The duke squeezed my hands. “Please see that Derrick doesn’t come to any harm.”
The guards had taken him down into the dungeon underneath the castle. I hadn’t been to the dark underground hovel in years. In fact, I’d only gone once, and the scurry of rat claws against the stones had awakened my nightmares. I’d been unable to sleep for many nights after the visit.
“Is it really necessary for him to be in the dungeon?” I asked the abbot again. “Are you sure he cannot be locked into one of the chambers instead?”
“I’ve already made an announcement to the townspeople that the criminal responsible for the sheriff’s death has been caught and is locked in the dungeon. If you set him free, what will the people think about your leadership? Would you have them know you as fair and just or as someone moved by every whim of your heart?”
The duke gave the abbot a sharp sidelong glance. “I have a feeling the solitude of the dungeon will be the safest place for Derrick during my short absence.”
“The safest place for Derrick?” I repeated. The duke made it sound like Derrick needed protecting.
“I’ll be leaving his squire to keep watch over him,” the duke continued, “but nevertheless, I ask that you make Sir Derrick as comfortable as possible while I’m gone.”
“I’ll make sure my guards know they’r
e to treat him with the utmost kindness.” It was the least I could do for the duke and for Derrick.
The abbot pursed his lips and caressed the wooden cross in his hands. “I hope you don’t think you’re going to set Sir Derrick free when you return, unless, of course, you have the proper proof that he’s innocent.”
The duke’s hand stiffened around mine, but his composure remained the same. “We shall speak of the terms of release once I return.”
Even if the duke’s test for true love had failed, I still trusted and believed in him. I was confident he would do the just and right thing where Derrick was concerned.
“Don’t forget your promises to me.” He bent and kissed the top of my head.
“I won’t.”
Then with a final, sad smile, he spun on his heels and left the chapel. Even before he’d had the chance to ride away, I was already wishing for his return.
Chapter
19
I froze on the first landing of the dark passageway that led to the dungeon. A waft of dank, sour air sifted over me, making my nose wrinkle.
“My lady?” whispered Bartholomew, my faithful old guard. He was already halfway down the first set of winding steps. He peered at me over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised. When he lifted his torch, the flickers cast ghoulish shadows on the stone walls.
“Do you want to go back?” he hissed through the gap where he was missing his top front teeth.
I shook my head and took a step forward. My slippers were soundless, and I wrapped my cloak tighter around my night gown. I’d come this far. I couldn’t turn back now. Even if everything within me longed to retreat.
I’d promised the duke that I’d make sure Derrick was treated kindly. After more than a day of doing nothing but imagining him shivering and hurt in his dark cell, I’d decided I needed to go down and discover for myself how he fared.
Bartholomew started forward again. His shuffling footsteps echoed too loudly as he continued his descent into the bowels of the castle.
My legs trembled, and I could only stare into the dark abyss that awaited, as the nightmares flared to life in my mind: rats in the bottomless cage, digging frantically and hungrily through human flesh.
