Rowan's Revenge

by June Francis

  Suddenly there was a roar of fury and the next moment he was being dragged away from her. Breathing heavily, Kate drew back and through the twilight managed to make out the shape of two men struggling, both obviously intent on gaining the upper hand. She picked up the stick from which the lantern had fallen and its light extinguished. Her pulse beat rapidly as she realised that the Comte’s assailant seemed intent on bashing the Frenchman’s head on the ground so it would crack like an egg. Her spirits soared because there could be only one man so determined to destroy their enemy. ‘Owain, you’re alive!’ she cried.

  ‘No thanks to him,’ he responded in a grim voice, staggering back. ‘He ambushed me and knocked me out, brought me here and no doubt would have left me to freeze to death once he realised for certain I could not tell him where the missing chest of money was hidden.’

  Kate peered at Owain through the gathering darkness. His face was filthy and strips of leather dangled loosely from his wrists and ankles. She drew in a breath with a hiss, but before she could speak, a voice called from the top of the crag. ‘I think you’ve killed him, Owain.’ She recognised her brother’s voice.

  Owain nodded and pulled the remains of the bonds from his wrists and ankles. Then he reached out a hand to Kate. She took it and instantly noticed where the skin was broken and bleeding and pressed kisses on the raw wounds. ‘My poor love,’ she murmured.

  Diccon said, ‘I’m glad I decided to revisit the place where Father died and make a proper search of the quarry for the chest I was convinced he had hidden somewhere round here. Otherwise I would not have heard Owain’s calls for help.’

  ‘Praise the Trinity that you did,’ said Kate.

  ‘And did you find it, Diccon?’ asked Owain.

  Diccon grinned. ‘Aye, I did.’

  Owain smiled. ‘Good. We’ll hand it over to Sir Thomas for the King. I’m sure we will be rewarded and it should help gain us a few favours too.’

  Diccon said, ‘I certainly hope so. I need all the help I can get to make my fortune.’

  ‘So how do we say the Comte died?’ asked Kate, clinging tightly to Owain. She was beginning to feel light-headed.

  ‘We tell the truth,’ he said. ‘He’s a black-hearted villain. I believe Sir Thomas will say the world is well rid of him…and his death will save all the cost and bother of putting him on trial for Sir Roger’s murder.’

  ‘So it is over. Our enemies are vanquished and we are safe,’ whispered Kate. Suddenly she swayed against Owain. He looked down and caught her as she fell.

  Kate woke the following morning to find herself in the largest bed she had ever slept in. She was not alone. Sitting up abruptly, she gazed down at Owain’s dark curly head, where it nestled on a lace-trimmed pillow, twin to hers. For a moment she could not remember how they came to be there, but then the purity of the light, shining through the window, caused the events of yesterday to come flooding back. She remembered Owain taking her up before him on one of the horses that Diccon had fetched. She had thought they would go to Merebury, only to be told that the house was in no fit state to welcome visitors. Instead Owain had brought her to Lathom House. Here they had found a welcome as any traveller lost in a storm would have done.

  The Lady of the manor had come forward, fussing over them like a mother hen. She had ordered bedchambers to be made ready and ushered them over to the fireplace, where a huge log threw out an enormous amount of heat. Already the hall was decorated with holly and ivy for Christmastide and the smell of roasting meat had been so mouthwatering that Kate thought she might faint again with hunger. Supper was being served and they were led straight to table, where a serving boy brought a bowl for them to wash their hands.

  Owain had fussed over her as much as Sir Thomas’s Lady, and Kate had been astonished when he had introduced her as Mistress ap Rowan, my wife. Diccon had rolled his eyes at her, and she had taken him aside and told him that they had plighted their troth secretly.

  Afterwards the Lady had apologised for her husband’s absence, saying that he had been called to Knowsley unexpectedly, but hopefully he would return on the morrow. Later it had come as a great surprise to Kate to be shown to this sumptuous bedchamber. Despite her good intentions to tell Owain everything that had happened since he had left Liverpool, she had fallen into a deep sleep as soon as she lay down.

  Now she reached out and touched Owain’s unshaven cheek with the back of her hand. He stirred and turned onto his back. His eyes opened and he gazed up at her sleepily. The next moment he shot up in bed and his blue gaze took in the bedchamber with its hangings of scarlet velvet and gold embroidery. There was a great oak armoire and a chest carved with the Stanley emblem of the eagle and child. Her eyes followed his with pleasure and wonder, washing over an oak writing table, two cushioned chairs with what appeared to be clean clothing on them, a washstand with an enamel bowl and thick woven linen drying cloths patterned with lozenges. Most welcome of all was the fire burning in a brazier.

  She waited for him to speak but instead he lay down again, and reaching out, brought her against him. ‘Now tell me how you came to find me? I know it was not by magic.’

  So she told him all that had happened since he had left her in Liverpool. ‘You took a great risk making the journey alone, but obviously God was with you.’ He brushed his lips against hers as gentle as thistledown before kissing her again more deeply. She clung to him, enjoying the feel of his firm body against hers, debating whether she should tell him about the baby now or later. It could be that he would decide they should not make love and in that case…

  Before she could make a decision, there was a knock at the door. ‘Master ap Rowan, Sir Thomas has returned and wishes to see you and your Lady immediately.’

  Owain groaned. He buried his face against her neck a moment before lifting his head and saying, ‘Tell him we will be with him in an instant.’ He climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. Kate stared at him, but did not speak. ‘Come on, Kate, move!’ he ordered.

  Slowly she got out of bed, hoping that for once she would not feel nauseous, but, almost as soon as she stood up, she retched. Putting a hand to her mouth, she said in a muffled voice, ‘You must go without me.’

  Owain looked at her with concern. ‘What is wrong with you, my love?’

  ‘A baby,’ she gasped, shooing him away with one hand.

  He looked stunned. ‘A baby?’

  She nodded. ‘Go!’

  His face lit up and he picked up the bowl. ‘Nay! We will face Sir Thomas together. For the moment he will have to wait.’

  Owain held the bowl for her and, once she had finished being sick, wiped her face tenderly with a damp cloth. He helped her to dress in the green linen kirtle and saffron silk gown left for her use. Then he combed her hair and assisted her in fastening on her wimple. She slipped her feet into the soft leather slippers and then, hand in hand, they hurried from the bedchamber.

  Sir Thomas stood in the hall with his back to the fire, drinking from a silver goblet. As soon as they entered the hall, he signalled to those present to leave them. Only after they had departed did he beckon Owain and Kate forward. He was richly clad in a doublet of blue velvet beneath a full-length sleeveless green cotehardie trimmed with fur. On his head he wore a basin-shaped hat with a rolled brim. He looked older than Kate had believed him to be. She bobbed a brief curtsy and then dared to look him straight in the eye. ‘So you are my kinwoman Kate,’ he said.

  ‘So I have been told, Sir Thomas.’

  He lowered his head and brought his face close to hers so that his wine-scented breath filled her nostrils. ‘You have a look of your father. He requested that I find you a suitable husband.’ He straightened and stared at Owain. ‘What have you got to say for yourself?’

  ‘Do not blame Owain,’ said Kate, deciding not only to take the initiative, but also that boldness was called for, too. ‘Like my father I dared to choose whom I would love and wed. I believe that he would be pleased with my choice.’

&n
bsp; ‘Do you indeed!’ Sir Thomas frowned.

  She tilted her chin. ‘I am, after all, a Stanley—do they not go after what they want? I want this man.’ Kate ran a hand down Owain’s arm. ‘I would not be standing here if it were not for him. He has saved my life!’ she said stoutly.

  Sir Thomas cleared his throat. ‘You’re bold-faced, I give you that, Kate.’

  ‘Is that not a Stanley trait, Sir Thomas?’ said Owain, deciding it was time he took part in their defence. ‘Surely Kate needs a husband just as bold. One who wants her to stand by his side and fight for what is theirs.’

  Sir Thomas said, ‘You talk of Merebury. Yesterday I was sent on a wild goose chase—I deem it was so that I could not speak on your behalf in the matter. I will send for the bishop and speak to him concerning the two wills. I will tell him of Friar Stephen’s devil-worshipping ways, a man of his own order, and also of the other matter of which you wrote to me. No doubt he will be greatly shocked.’

  ‘Does that mean Merebury will come to me as Lady Catherine intended?’ asked Kate, her eyes glowing.

  ‘That depends on what the King has to say and if Owain has fulfilled the task he was appointed,’ said Sir Thomas, gazing at him intently.

  Owain said gravely, ‘I have written down all my findings, including what happened in the cave of the Devil’s Graveyard. I am happy to inform you that only yesterday another chest of money was discovered but a few miles from here. No doubt its contents belong to the King. Also Sir Roger’s murderer is dead.’ Briefly Owain told him what had taken place last evening.

  Sir Thomas’s eyes widened and a guffaw broke from him. He slapped Owain on the back. ‘It is good. I cannot wait to hear your version of the Devil’s Graveyard. I also have good news. When I left London, the King was much improved. Hopefully he will soon be himself again. When that day comes then I am sure he will see that you are suitably rewarded.’

  ‘My thanks to you, Sir Thomas,’ said Owain, inclining his dark head. ‘The wife of my heart has also told me this day that she is with child. A double cause for celebration.’

  Sir Thomas’s eyebrows almost disappeared beneath the brim of his hat. ‘You have wasted no time, Owain. I agree with Kate—my cousin would have approved of you, and I give you both my blessing.’

  Kate whooped with delight and, turning to her kinsman, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, Sir Thomas.’

  He placed an arm about both of them. ‘You will stay at Lathom for the twelve days of Christmas. And, Owain, I look forward to the day when you set up your stables at Merebury. Now go.’ He dismissed them.

  Kate and Owain almost ran out of the hall; as soon as they were alone, he pulled her into his arms and gazed down into her happy face. ‘So, my Lady Kate, there is no escaping me now.’

  ‘It would do me no good to try because you hold my heart,’ she replied.

  ‘And you mine.’

  ‘Ours is indeed a love match,’ she murmured.

  He nodded and taking her chin between his fingers, said, ‘Kiss me, Kate.’

  She wasted no time in obeying him.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-0254-6

  ROWAN’S REVENGE

  Copyright © 2006 by June Francis

  First North American Publication 2007

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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