Once they had cleared the stableyard, she urged the horse into a gallop across a muddy field. She threw an anxious glance over her shoulder, thankful that no one was running out of the small farmhouse. She turned her thoughts to what lay ahead, trying to get her sense of direction.
She got her bearings a short while later when she reached the River Usk, which flowed to the south. She already knew that the Gervais fortress lay some ten miles southward along the same river.
Leila looked to the north, but she couldn’t see Warenne Castle through the billowing gray mist and driving rain. It was just as well.
“On with you!” she cried hoarsely, veering the palfrey along the rolling bank as they headed south.
Chapter 26
Shivering, wet to the skin and exhausted, Leila sat silently on a bench, a small puddle of water forming at her feet. She watched as Roger paced in front of her, stopping now and again to stare incredulously at her.
He hadn’t even given her a chance to change out of her sodden, mud-spattered clothes, which really didn’t surprise her. She had no sooner arrived at Gervais Castle, formidably perched upon a cliff above the River Usk, than she was rushed into this private solar adjoining the great hall by the two silent knights who now guarded the entrance. That had been scarcely five minutes ago.
Leila’s stomach grumbled noisily at the scent of food wafting through the closed door. The household was at their early evening supper, but she hadn’t been offered any sustenance. It seemed Roger had no thought for any amenities, especially after what she had just told him.
“I want to know if I heard you correctly,” Roger said, halting a few feet from the bench. His hard blue eyes searched her face. “You have left your husband.”
Leila sighed wearily. “Yes.”
“And you wish to obtain an annulment of your marriage because you were forced to consent to it against your will. Is that right?”
“Yes.” Her low answer was like a death knell upon her heart.
Roger shook his head in disbelief and glanced at Maude, standing off to the side, her face composed as if chiseled in stone. She had said nothing yet, just listened with her hands clasped so tightly that her knuckles shone white.
Leila saw the look which passed between them, a strange mix of total amazement and shrewd cunning. She could sense their barely controlled excitement like a ripe fragrance hanging in the air. She imagined they were already counting the money her fortuitous appearance would soon bring them.
“Who told you marriages could be so annulled?” Maude queried, breaking her icy silence.
“We had overnight visitors a week ago at Warenne Castle, a Marcher lord traveling with his lady to north Wales,” Leila explained dully. “At supper, the woman was quite free with her talk of the past, saying she had once been married against her will to a man three times her age. After she pressed her suit to King Henry, the unlawful union was dissolved.” When Maude’s expression did not change, Leila grew fearful that her efforts might have been wasted. “I can do this, can’t I?”
“Oh, yes, you certainly can,” Roger answered for his wife. “But what I want to know, dear sister, is how you managed to escape from a heavily guarded fortress.”
When Leila told him, Roger threw back his head and laughed. The ringing sound gave her chills, for it held no humor, only scorn.
“Priceless. Absolutely priceless,” he said to Maude. “De Warenne’s recent misfortune gave her just the opportunity she needed. While he was lying abed convalescing, his wife eluded him in a grain wagon! God, how I would love to see his face when he discovers she’s gone, and for good. When Guy finds out she’s taken refuge here with us and wants an annulment …” His voice trailed into loud, mocking laughter.
He will hate me, Leila thought desolately, finishing her brother’s sentence. She lowered her head and stared blindly at the floor.
She had never felt so sick at heart or so weary of spirit, yet she knew she would simply have to grow used to this wretched pain. It was the price she had to pay.
She wanted Guy to hate her, to curse her name, to wish he had never met her, to wish she had never lived. If his hatred and sense of betrayal kept him away from Roger, her sacrifice would not be in vain. If her annulment kept Roger away from Guy, her loss would have gained her something. She would do anything to keep them apart.
She started when she saw two black boots plant themselves in front of her, and she cried out when Roger roughly forced up her chin. No longer laughing, his face was very grim.
“Something doesn’t make sense to me, Leila, and I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you really come here? Why didn’t you keep riding all the way to Dover and be rid of us all? You made no secret of your desire to return to Damascus, and you already know damn well what we will plan for you once your annulment becomes final.” He squeezed her jaw cruelly. “Something drove you here. What?”
Her throat was so constricted with emotion, Leila could barely force out an answer. She lowered her lashes as tears filled her eyes. “I came here … to propose a trade. If you refuse to meet Lord de Warenne in a trial by combat and cease your acts of vengeance against him, I promise to willingly marry anyone you choose for me.”
Roger’s eyes narrowed and he snorted with disgust. “By God, I don’t believe it.” He released her so abruptly she almost fell backward off the bench. “She’s in love with the bastard. She’s doing this for him.”
“Does Lord de Warenne know you love him?” Maude demanded, rushing forward to grip Roger’s arm. “If he does, my husband, that will surely bring him down upon us—”
“No, of course not!” Leila cried. “He knows nothing. He thinks I despise him and he will surely believe it now that I have left him to seek an annulment. He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant with his child!”
As her last words echoed in the room, she immediately wished she could retract them. Roger’s face was red with anger.
“You’re breeding?” he demanded, approaching her slowly.
“Y-yes, but why should that matter?” she replied, her voice sounding strangely shrill to her ears. “When I overheard you in your tent at Westminster, you said it would make no difference. Y-you said that whomever you married me to” —she almost choked— “would accept the child as his own.”
“You little fool!” Roger cried. “What I said then has no bearing on our situation now. If we could marry you off quickly, it would be one thing. Any potential suitors would easily be deceived. But your annulment could take weeks to be approved by the Church, maybe longer.”
“There might also be a royal inquiry,” Maude interjected, staring coldly at Leila, “since you stated your consent to the king in Westminster Abbey.”
“Yes, that could further delay the ruling,” Roger continued harshly. “By then, you will be far gone with de Warenne’s bastard, for that is what you will bear when your union is declared void. Your damnable pregnancy will only hinder our chances of arranging a marriage from which we can profit. Few will want to wed you, knowing you will soon have another man’s bastard at your tit, and even if someone does, he’ll hardly be willing to pay the full bride price I demand.”
“What are you saying?” Leila asked, panic building inside her.
“You must rid yourself of the child.”
“No,” she breathed, horrified. “No!” Jumping up from the bench, she attempted to dart around it, but Roger caught her arm and wrenched her back to face him.
“Hear me well, my dearest sister. Your touching sacrifice will save Guy from any more unfortunate accidents in the future only if you do exactly as I say. And yes, I might even refuse to meet him in judicial combat if you rid yourself of his bastard spawn. You saw how he fell at the king’s tournament. If I fight him, I promise you he will fall again, but this time with my lance buried deep in his heart. Now decide!”
Stricken with horror, Leila could only shake her head numbly, which infuriated Roger all the more.
“Perhaps you need some
time to think,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I believe a dark cell is just the place to encourage some serious reflection.” As he began to drag her to a side door, he threw a terse command at Maude. “Send for the healer and have her prepare a potion. I want it to be ready when Leila comes to her senses. And you two” —he sharply addressed his somber-faced knights— “find the priest! If Anselm is not at supper, he’s probably in the village visiting that Welsh mistress of his. If so, ride out and fetch him. I want him to prepare the annulment documents tonight so they may be sent by messenger to the archbishop first thing in the morning.”
“Aye, my lord,” they answered as one, following Maude from the solar.
Leila’s eyes were so blinded by tears she could barely see as Roger yanked her through a dark corridor and into an adjoining building. She sensed it was the keep when her hand scraped against a rough stone wall, and she wiped her eyes so she might have some idea where she was being taken.
Roger had said a dark cell, she thought wildly. Did he mean to lock her inside … ?
Her worst fears were confirmed when Roger grabbed a hanging lantern and they began to descend a narrow flight of stairs. Deeper and deeper into the bowels of the keep he led her, down two more flights of worn stone steps until finally they reached the bottom. There was no floor, only hard-packed dirt, and a barred door fitted into each wall.
“You’ll find this dungeon is quite unpleasant,” Roger said tightly. He flung open one of the doors and thrust Leila so roughly inside the small cell that she tripped and went sprawling into the filthy straw. “I doubt you’ll want to stay here very long. As soon as you agree to my demand, you will be released.” He began to swing the door closed, then stopped, holding up the lantern in such a way that his eyes shone malevolently. “Just think well on everything I’ve said, Leila. There will be nothing else for you to do down here.”
Leila flinched as the door slammed shut and the bar outside clanked into place. She was alone. In pitch darkness.
Great wrenching sobs began to tear at her throat and chest, and for a long moment she was too paralyzed with shock to move. It was only when she heard faint squeaking sounds that she gasped and fell quiet, choking on her tears.
Dear God. She was not alone.
Shrieking in terror, she scrambled through the straw, groping wildly for a corner. When she found one, she huddled there, hugging her knees to her chest and pressing her wet face to the cold wall.
She bit her clenched fist until blood came, listening as the straw rustled and seemed to come alive all around her. Something brushed her foot.
She began to scream and could not stop.
***
Furious, Guy burst into Philip’s bedchamber. His eyes narrowed as his half brother rose in surprise from his writing desk.
“Dammit, man! What did you say to her?”
Philip looked confused. “Say to whom? What are you talking about?”
“Leila! She’s gone, fled the castle, and I think it’s because of something you said to her.”
Philip stared at him in disbelief. “Lady Leila is gone?”
Grimacing from the pain in his leg, made all the more acute by his chausses rubbing against the bandages, Guy leaned on a chair for support. “Good God, man, haven’t you heard the uproar outside? I’ve over a hundred men mounting up at this moment to go out and look for her.”
“No. I’ve been so absorbed in my work …” Philip spread his hands. “Are you sure she’s gone? Have you looked in the hospital?”
“Of course! That’s where I thought she was all afternoon until I sent Enid a short while ago to fetch her. Enid found the hospital empty and the braziers cold. No one has been there for hours. As she came rushing back to tell me, she spied Nicholas playing in some mud puddles near the kitchen. Do you know what he said when she asked him if he’d seen Leila?”
Philip shook his head, his face pale.
Guy’s gut twisted in torment, his anxiety eating him alive. “Nicholas saw her by a wagon near the grain storehouse. She must have hidden herself in it to get out of the castle.”
“But have you looked everywhere else?” Philip blurted. “There are so many places she could be—”
“She’s nowhere to be found. No one has seen her,” Guy cut him off sharply. Limping, he approached his brother. “What the hell did you say to her the other night before Henry found you together in the hospital? Damn you, Philip, you struck her!” His voice rose to a shout. “Tell me!”
Clearly shaken, Philip sank onto the stool. “I—I told her she was a curse to you and this household. I blamed her for the dissension between us and for the assault that almost killed you, and I said that it was because of your marriage that Lord Gervais was seeking revenge against you. I said I wanted to be rid of her and I made her an offer. But she turned it down. I was so angry, I hit her …” Philip’s shoulders slumped, and he fell silent.
Guy was assailed by dread. “What offer?”
“If she agreed to leave that night, I was prepared to give her enough money to see her way back to Damascus, with safe escort to Marseilles.”
“You would have done this to me?” Guy asked incredulously, quiet rage building inside him. “You know Leila means more to me than my life, yet you would have helped her to leave me?”
“I thought she was killing you with her cure!” Philip exclaimed, his eyes heavy with remorse. “I didn’t know what else to do to get her away from you. How could I have known her eastern medicine would save your life?” He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Guy. Truly sorry. I was wrong about Leila, about her skills. I’ve thought of nothing else for two days. I was planning to talk to her tonight, to ask her forgiveness—”
“It seems you are too late,” Guy said bitterly. “Since she found so little acceptance here, maybe she decided to take your words to heart after all. Or perhaps she planned to leave me all along, and in that wagon she finally found her opportunity. Oh, God …”
“I cannot believe that,” Philip objected. “When she denied my offer, she said she had no wish to return to Damascus. I saw her eyes, Guy. I would swear she meant it.”
Guy was so mired in his tormented thoughts that he barely heard him. He had never been at such a loss. Ah, Leila, why have you done this? Why?
He simply could not bring himself to believe she had left him out of hatred. Not after what they had shared earlier that day. She had never made love to him so completely, so freely. It wasn’t possible—or was it?
Had her impassioned kiss, her trembling touch fooled him so thoroughly? While he had exulted that he lived to hold her in his arms again, what had filled her heart? Loathing? Resentment? She had lied to him about going to the hospital. She had said she would return, that they would spend tonight together, when all the while she knew she was going to leave him!
Guy clenched his fists. Had she saved his life, then, not because she cared, but only because of her ingrained duty as a physician? And when he had recovered, had she felt that her obligation was fulfilled? Dear God, someone tell him it wasn’t so!
“My lord. Griffin is saddled and waiting outside the chapel.”
Guy glanced up at Henry Langton in the doorway. “Are the men ready to ride?”
“Yes. We await your orders.”
“Surely you can’t mean to join them, Guy,” Philip said in disbelief, rising abruptly. “Your wound—”
“The hell with my wound! Do you think I could sit idly by while my wife is out there somewhere, alone and unprotected?” Guy ignored the burning pain in his leg as he moved with impatience to the door. “Enough talk. It’s already growing dark. I have discovered what I needed to know.”
As he and Henry hurried down the stone steps, Philip hastened after them.
“I want to ride with you, Guy. I want to help look for Leila.”
Stepping outside the chapel into a light drizzle, Guy looked back at his half brother, his expression grim. “No. I want you to stay here and pray, Philip. Pray very, ver
y hard that we find her. I promise you there will be hell to pay if we don’t.”
“Lord de Warenne!”
Guy turned as Robert Burnell rushed toward him, a stout, red-faced farmer puffing alongside the swarthy knight. He recognized the man as one of his tenants.
“What is it?” he demanded, growing increasingly impatient to begin their search while there was yet some daylight.
“My lord, this is one of the men who came to the castle today for grain. He has some news—”
“Aye, my lord, news indeed,” the farmer blurted. “I only discovered an hour past, when I went to unload the wagon and feed the stock, that my fine roan mare was stolen from the stable. I found this” —he held out a piece of dove-gray fabric—”hanging from a nail on the sideboard. I’ve never known a Welsh rebel to dress in fine velvet, my lord. Then when I arrived here to report the crime, Sir Burnell told me about your lady …” He grew silent, looking extremely uncomfortable.
Guy’s pounding heart seemed to fill his throat as he took the tattered fragment and rubbed it between his fingers. “It’s from Leila’s cloak,” he said. “Were you able to find any tracks after the storm?”
“Aye, my lord, I followed what was left of the hoofprints for a good distance before I came here. They headed west for about a half mile, then turned sharply south at the River Usk.”
West and south, Guy thought, puzzled. Leila should have ridden directly to the east if she was heading for London. Then where the hell … ?
His gut instinct suddenly gave him the startling answer.
“She’s gone to her brother,” he stated with cold certainty. “I would swear it. There would have been no other reason for her to ride south.”
“God’s teeth, my lord, why would she have done that?” Henry exclaimed, shaking his head. Then he glanced sharply at Guy, incredulity in his eyes. “Does she know of the trial by combat?”
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