by Ana Seymour
By late afternoon, the worry, combined with her lack of sleep the previous evening, had given her a fierce headache. She wished there was some way to find out what was happening back in the caves, but the page boy Rolf had not returned to his duties at the castle.
She even considered trying to ride out herself, but she was sure that her father would never consent to her traveling abroad while troops still combed the countryside. So she stayed in her room, paced the floor, snapped at Sylvianne and tried to banish the thought of Connor’s kisses from her throbbing head.
It was nearly sundown when Sylvianne knocked, timidly, her voice apologetic.
Ellen pulled open the door and asked rudely, “What do you want now?”
“’Tis the priest, milady, asking for you.”
“Father Martin?”
“Aye, he’s in the chapel—”
Before the poor woman could finish her sentence, Ellen had pushed past her and was making her way down the winding stairs and across the great hall to the chapel at the opposite end of the castle.
Father Martin was kneeling at the altar, his eyes closed in prayer. She hesitated, then cleared her throat.
He took another few moments before he crossed himself and stood to face her. “Good afternoon, milady.”
“My handmaid said you wanted to see me,” she said, faltering a little at the end of her sentence. In the candlelight of the chapel, the priest’s resemblance to his brother was startling—those same intense eyes, the same long nose and square line of his jaw.
He walked down the aisle toward her. Close-up, it was easier to banish the apparition of Connor. The priest’s round form under his robes was nothing like the strong, lean body she’d seen above her in the firelight of her bedchamber the previous evening. Heat flooded her face at the memory.
Father Martin nodded, as if appreciating her abandonment of the polite preliminaries. “Aye. Your father’s soldiers are searching the caves along the coast for the refugee Saxons. ‘Tis likely they’ll find John Cooper. Methinks the lad will not flee and leave his family to face Norman wrath.”
Ellen felt a swift stab of disappointment. So the villagers had not held firm against the temptation of easy money. After witnessing how they all worked together to help one another, she’d been virtually certain that not a soul would reveal the outlaws’ whereabouts. “Who told them of the caves?” she asked.
Father Martin winced. “No Saxon soul, as God be my witness. One of Phippen’s men discovered the large cave where you were kept ‘Twas an easy deduction that they’d sought similar refuge farther down the coast”
Ellen sighed, but it was satisfying to know that it had not been her father’s reward that had made the difference. Nevertheless, Father Martin was right. If the soldiers were searching the caves, it was likely that they could stumble upon both John and Connor at any moment.
“Will you take me to them?” she asked Father Martin.
“I beg your pardon, milady?” he asked.
“Will you take me to where your brother is now so we can warn them?”
Father Martin bent his head and looked deep into her eyes. “The soldiers will be there before we could ever reach them,” he said, then added gently, “and in any event, I don’t think it would help my brother’s case to be found with the daughter of the Norman overlord.”
She turned away from his searching gaze.
“What is between you two, milady?” the priest asked.
He was a holy man, and she could not lie, but he had not asked her for details. It would be the truth to tell him that there was nothing between them, for Connor had made it plain in his rejection of her the previous evening that their encounter had been the swift satisfaction of their lust, nothing more.
“We may be able to prove Connor innocent of Booth’s death,” the priest continued. “But what will be his fate if ‘tis proven that he, a humble servant, has cast his eyes upon the lord’s daughter?”
“There’s naught between me and your brother, Father,” she said, meeting his eyes.
“By the holy rood, you swear it?”
“Aye. There’s naught between us now, nor ever will be.”
Father Martin nodded, his expression relieved. “If John and Connor are arrested, I beg my lady to use her good offices to see that they’re not mistreated.”
“Of course.”
“And I shall begin to gather evidence to prove their innocence. ‘Twill not be easy in John’s case. Though Booth was a known lecher, we have only the girl’s word that he attacked her, plus that of the accused. There were no bruises on her body.”
Ellen drew herself up indignantly. “Does a woman have to be battered and broken before she can be defended? Methinks not, Father Martin.”
The priest smiled. “I agree with you, my child. We’ll just have to hope that your father’s court is of like opinion.”
When she came to attend her mistress the following morning, Sylvianne informed Ellen with a sniff of disdain that perhaps things could finally return to normal in this godforsaken castle, now that the miscreants had been brought in and thrown into the belly of the keep.
Ellen pressed the woman for details, and she reported that the entire family of the boy-murderer, as well as the estate’s former stable master, had been arrested and chained in the donjon.
“Chained?” Ellen exclaimed in horror. “Not the widow, surely? Nor the twins? They’re yet babes.”
The woman gave an annoying shrug and, when Ellen once again refused her help to dress, shuffled away with an air of insult.
It took less than ten minutes for Ellen to dress herself and make her way to the lower floor of the castle, below the great hall, where a maze of storerooms was occasionally used as a castle prison.
It was one area of the castle that Ellen had not yet reached in her cleaning campaign. The place smelled of the offal of animals and rotted food. Light filtered in from the outside around the periphery, but as she ventured into the interior of the maze, she found almost total darkness. Good lord, she hoped poor little Karyn Cooper was not in one of these cubicles.
One of the men who had ridden with her and Sebastian from Normandy was on guard at the end of a narrow passageway. He lifted a torch from a nearby bracket and held it up to determine the identity of the newcomer. When he saw Ellen, he gave a slight bow, then said, “You’re not to go in there, milady. We’ve prisoners.”
“That’s why I’m here,” she said curtly. “I’ve come to see them.”
The man looked uncomfortable, but did hot move out of her way. “’Tis your cousin’s orders, milady. I’m to let no one near them.”
“What’s your name, soldier?”
“DeGuerre, milady.”
“Are you aware that I am mistress of this household, DeGuerre?”
“Aye, milady, but your cousin said—”
She pierced the man with her most intimidating stare. “My cousin is here at my father’s will, not by right of birth. If you want to jeopardize your position at this castle by naysaying the rightful mistress, then let it be on your head.”
Uncertain, DeGuerre shifted back and forth, causing the heavy armored vest he wore to creak. While he was still evidently deciding what he should do, Ellen plucked the torch from his hand and slipped around him down the hall.
She found them in a small room at the end of the passageway. The tiny space was crowded with barrels. Abel and Karyn perched side by side on two of them, their wide eyes looking haunted.
Along the far wall Sarah, Agnes, John, Rolf and Connor were tied together. The bonds were rope, thank goodness, not chain, but nevertheless the sight made Ellen grow pale.
“Milady,” Sarah called with a shout of joy.
But Ellen went first to Karyn, who had burst into tears at the sight of her. She found a wall bracket for the torch; then gathered the child into her arms and cradled her. “This is outrageous,” she said, when she could speak over the fullness in her throat.
“’Tis your Norman
justice of which you spoke so highly, milady,” John Cooper said bitterly.
“Hold thy tongue, John,” his sister chided.
Karyn’s sniffles subsided as she rested her head against Ellen’s shoulder. “She was ‘fraid of the dark shadows.” Abel, as usual, interpreted for his sister. “She thought they were dragons.”
Ellen kissed the top of her head. “There are no dragons here in Lyonsbridge, Karyn. Nor any wild beasts.”
“Other than your cousin’s dragoons.” Connor spoke for the first time. His voice was tinged with the old mocking amusement, in spite of the gravity of the circumstances.
Agnes had not spoken, and now that Karyn was no longer clutching her neck so desperately, Ellen turned her attention to the widow. In the dim torchlight, her face was haggard and she looked suddenly like a very old woman.
“Are you all right?” Ellen asked her. The widow appeared too weak to answer, but she mustered one of her gentle smiles.
Ellen gave Karyn a final squeeze, then set her back on the barrel. “Sit right there for a minute, sweetling, while I talk to your mum.”
Abel reached across from his barrel and took his sister’s hand. “I’ll take care of her, ‘lady,” he said, his little voice solemn.
Ellen walked toward the five prisoners. Connor’s eyes had not left her since she’d entered the little room. It was the first time they had seen each other since the night they had made love, but she pushed the thought away. This was not the moment to think about Connor’s rejection of her.
She studied the thick rope wrapped around each individual, linking them together in a sinister chain. “Mistress Cooper, you’re going to be ill again. We’ve got to get you out of here,” she said. With a despairing glance at the heavy rope, she added, “To get you all out of here.”
“My thought precisely,” Connor agreed, and before she knew what had happened, the rope seemed to have dissolved from around him and he’d bounded up to stand by her side, almost knocking her off her feet in surprise.
“How…what…?” she sputtered.
Connor rubbed his wrists where the rope had chafed. “I’ve something of a facility with knots, sweetheart. I’ve been free of the bonds this hour past, but I’d not yet thought of a plan for leaving this place safely with the widow and the little ones. At least not one that didn’t involve killing any guard that got in our way.”
“I’d kill them all,” John muttered, “for what they’ve done to my family.”
Connor turned a reproachful glance on the lad. “More killing ‘twould but lead to further reprisals and more bloodshed, John. You’re young, you’ve yet to learn that lesson.” He turned to ask Ellen, “How many guards did you encounter in coming here?”
“Just one. A man named DeGuerre.”
“He let you pass freely?”
“More or less.”
Connor gave her a quick smile of approval. “Then the man’s a fool and should not be difficult to pass. The problem will be once we leave these stinking catacombs. We’re sure to encounter more guards, mayhap some not as easily swayed by a pretty face.”
Ellen thought for a long moment. “What if the guards were all sent off on another mission?”
“What mission? Now that they’ve caught us, they’ve ceased hunting for the rest of the outlaws. They care naught for that ragged crew.”
“Nay, but they would care about the daughter of the lord, if she were kidnapped by the outlaws who remain.”
Agnes lifted her head from the wall long enough to protest. “I’ll not have you making foolish plans, milady. I’d not exchange our freedom if it meant harm to you.”
But Ellen had warmed to her plan. “I won’t be in the least danger. I’ll simply ride away, disappear, and when my father receives a message that I’m once again being held hostage, he’ll send every soldier out in search of me. Once you’re safely away, I’ll come back and say I was released unharmed and that I want to forget the whole incident.”
Connor shook his head. “You’re not to become involved in this again.”
“I won’t be involved. I’ll merely be going for a ride, as I have done dozens of times. ‘Twill be a diversionary tactic, nothing more.”
Connor smiled at her use of the battle terminology, but he said, “I’ve told you before that I like not the idea of you riding out alone.”
She looked first at the children. Karyn’s little face was peaked and haunted. Abel offered her a wobbly, but brave smile. Then she turned her eyes to Agnes, who had slumped weakly against the wall.
With a grim smile of resolution, she turned back to Connor. “Horse master, it appears to me that you are not in a position to have much choice in the matter.”
Chapter Fifteen
He argued with her for fully five minutes, but Ellen did not waver from her plan. Finally, realizing that she was as stubborn as she was beautiful, he agreed, and they began to discuss the details of the escape. Both realized that it had to be done quickly, before Agnes Cooper became too weak to flee.
“Escaping from this place won’t solve the dilemma,” Connor pointed out, frustrated. “They’ll just start looking for us again.”
She told him of his brother’s search to find evidence of Sir William’s lechery and added that she needed additional time to talk to her father. As she made ready to leave, she said, “No matter what you may think of Norman justice, Connor, my father’s a fair man.”
“If he’s anything like his daughter,” he replied, “I’d trust my fate in his hands.”
Then he grasped her shoulders and brought her against him for a quick, almost violent kiss that left them both shaken.
The sting of it stayed on her lips as she made her way to the stables. She’d set the stage, left the note where Sylvianne would find it when she came to see if her mistress needed help preparing for supper. All Ellen had to do was slip away without being seen, so that no one would know that she’d gone of her own volition.
Jocelyn was waiting peacefully in her stall and gave a soft whinny as she recognized her owner’s scent. Would kidnappers make her take her own horse? Ellen wondered suddenly. She would just have to hope her father and Sebastian would think so, for she had no other way to get far enough away from Lyonsbridge so that she wouldn’t be easily found.
She started to lift her saddle, looking up and down the aisle of stalls to be sure she wouldn’t be surprised by a stable boy wandering in. Her eyes lit on the spiral stairway at the far corner. It led to the quarters Connor had fashioned for himself.
She should have known the minute she’d seen his rooms that this man was not a mere horse trainer. Though lacking some of the amenities of the castle, he’d outfitted the two rooms comfortably, very much like his former chambers in the castle, when his family had been lords of Lyonsbridge.
She remembered how shocked she’d been when he’d told her he lived in the stables. No one seeing him working day after day in the muck would guess that he lived just upstairs in relative luxury.
The saddle was poised in midair, suddenly heavy in her arms. No one would guess, she thought to herself again. “Of course,” she said aloud. Why should she go riding off, playing hide and seek with her father’s troops across the countryside, when she had a perfectly good hideout right here? Everyone knew that Connor had abandoned his former lodgings, and in any event, they certainly wouldn’t think to search for her here, right under their very noses.
She slammed the saddle back on the fence, gave Jocelyn an apologetic pat and ran toward the stairway. She could stay here comfortably for hours, until the morrow if need be. She’d have refreshment, books to read, even a soft bed if she grew tired.
Skipping with pleasure at her own ingenuity, she hurried up the stairs.
In the end they’d simply walked away. Even the guard Ellen had seen posted at the end of the passageway was nowhere in sight when, shortly after sundown, Connor led his band through the maze of storerooms and out a covered side entrance he and his brothers had used as childr
en.
They’d spent most of the afternoon discussing where they would go to keep out of the way of the soldiers until Martin could come forward with his evidence or Ellen could make good on her promise to sway her father.
Agnes and Sarah had both shuddered when John had suggested returning to the caves.
“I could take you to my people in Baintry,” Rolf had offered. “’Tis but a two day’s journey. We could walk all night and hide during the day.”
Sarah looked as if the page had offered to slay one of Karyn’s dragons for her, but Connor had been doubtful. “I’m not sure you would make a two-night walk, mistress,” he said to Agnes. “Nor would the little ones.”
“I’m stronger than I look, my son,” she told him, and, indeed, in her eyes was a shaft of determination he could not deny.
“Rolf and I can carry these sprites when they get tired,” John had added, hoisting Abel up on his shoulders.
Once Connor had assured himself of everyone’s resolve, he agreed to the plan, but told them that he himself would stay near Lyonsbridge.
“I’d know that the lady Ellen is returned safe,” he said, adding, “and I want to talk with Martin about the evidence he has gathered.”
He walked with them the first two miles, making certain that Agnes was up to the pace, then he cautioned them one more time to get themselves well hidden before the first rays of dawn, and he left to make his way back to Lyonsbridge.
There was a single candle burning low in its stand on the table in the middle of his bedchamber. One of his blankets had been draped over the window shutters to prevent the dim light from being seen by anyone walking in the stable yard below. She was there in the middle of the bed, curled up like a sleeping child, but the curves of her body were no child’s.
