Scold's Conquest (Worship Series Book 5)

by Marie Hall

  Xavier pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes… could her story get any more outrageous? God help them all if even a part of it was truth.,

  "So, Liam?" Mark started and Io nodded. "Liam sent Xavier a message when the pitchfork happened and Xavier sent a message back saying he wanted to forget you."

  "Yes."

  "I never sent such a message. I never received a message." Xavier was done. Done with this fable Io was spinning. It helped nothing. He still didn't even know how she'd come to have the injury. If the attempt on her life was made with a knife to her throat, how had her leg been wounded? "She is lying, or confused or… I sent no such message."

  "You did. You did. I have it. I kept it so I would not be tricked by you again so I would not forget you lie," Io said, reaching into the surcoat she wore. Into the hidden pocket Xavier knew she used to hide the signet ring from her father the king. When her hand came out, it clutched a piece of parchment which she waved in the air. "I kept it as proof you lie about everything."

  Mark reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Give it to me, Io. Let me see your proof."

  Io wouldn't relinquish the paper; Mark had to pry it from her fingers. "No. I will not let it be destroyed. It is proof. It is proof," Io's protest ended on a sob and once Mark had it and stood up so she couldn't take it back, Io gave in. Sobbing wracked her body as she leaned over until she lay in the dirt. Curling up, she put her arms over her head as if she protected herself.

  Xavier watched Mark unfold the parchment and read it carefully. Shaking his head, he carried it back to Xavier. Xavier knew right off it wasn't a message he sent but damn if the words were not as Io said. In short it was a request to "find a hole and drop her in it" once she succumbed to her injuries. "I did not write this," he said to those surrounding him.

  "I know. It is not your hand." Mark took the note back. "It is not hers either. But she thinks it came from you. Are you sure no message was sent out while you were gone? No message at all?"

  "I never received a message from the house. I would have gone straight back if someone informed me she was harmed. No messenger ever came fr—"

  "No, wait," a voice from the group called out. "Wait, my lord, sir." Ansell pushed through and stepped out. "Sir, while we were travelling to Curdale, a messenger did come. One from the house." Some serious grumbling started among the men and Xavier hoped he wasn't going to have to fight for his life against his own men.

  "No messenger came to me," Xavier denied.

  "No, no sir, I know. I only recall it now because of what I saw," Ansell said, setting his palm on the top of his head.

  "Well, speak man," Xavier snapped.

  "I do not recall exactly; we were perhaps a week into the journey there. I and Marvin were off the side of the road, his cinch broke and we were repairing it."

  "Get to your point," Xavier ground out, impatient to hear this claim.

  "Lady Charlotte's carriage went past and up comes a rider at full gallop. I thought he was headed to the front but when he came upon your mother, he pulled up. They stopped and I do not know what was said but whatever it was it gave them all some kind of delight. They all laughed and hugged. I honestly did not think anything of it. Her happiness is not…" the man trailed off and gave Xavier a sheepish look.

  "It is well, I know," Xavier said. The man wouldn't be with them now if his loyalties weren't fully with Io. "What else do you know?"

  "Honestly not much, sir. I did not hear what they discussed and I did not care to inquire. It was not anything to me if it made them so happy. I do know the messenger was there when we passed by. I do not recall seeing him the next morning."

  "Do you know which messenger it was?" Jon asked.

  The man shrugged. "Io is the only one who knows everyone's name at the house," Ansell said. Io, in fact, knew everyone's name everywhere. "Oh, but it was the dark haired one with the scar under his eye," he added.

  "Do you know who, Xavier?" Mark asked.

  "Tobin, I think is his name." Xavier dipped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why would his man not bring him a message, especially one so important? Why in all of everything holy would he deliver the message to Charlotte? Could Liam have given such an instruction? He doubted this as that man made clear he thought Xavier unfit as a husband for Io. Not the other way. He wouldn't have supported Charlotte's meddling.

  "Xavier, you have a more serious problem in your home than you thought," Gerald said, stating the obvious.

  "Yes, but he can do nothing about that until he, we, return. Right now," Jon said and pointed to Io who lay weeping on the ground. "Right now you must convince her you were not behind the attempt on her life and you did not send that message. Because from her side, all of this…" Jon pointed to the letter. "All of this seems rather damning."

  If it was hesitancy Xavier detected in Jon's voice he wasn't sure. Looking around though he could tell the men, even those four closest to him looked to doubt him. He could waste time working to convince them but Jon was correct, the only person he needed to believe in him was Io.

  He took a deep breath to steel himself against Io's response now. She'd told a wild, unorganized tale, but she also had proof. Something happened, something nearly fatal, while he was gone and she believed with her every fiber he was responsible. He was in a manner of speaking. He'd not planned it or set it in motion, but it happened because he failed to protect her. And while she thought him a villain, it was possible she held clues to who was truly responsible. He needed to get those from her. What she might know could prove his innocence to her.

  "Io," he called softly as he crossed the clearing towards her. She lay curled like a sow bug, crying. Kneeling down, he tried lifting her arm from her head. Her response was to roll face down, fold her arms so her forehead rested on them and stretch out. "Io?"

  "Do not kill me now. I will go. I will go and never bother you again." Her words were muffled as she spoke into the dirt but he heard them.

  "Io," he said shifting so he too lay in the dirt next to her. The damp, cold struck him and he shuddered. "Io," he called again. "Io, my heart. I do not want you dead or gone. Did you not hear Ansell speak?"

  "No." She turned her head and, with a loud sniff, met his eyes.

  "Ansell will tell you. The message never reached me, Io. Mother intercepted it. Charlotte wrote those terrible things and sent it back to you." It was the only conclusion he could draw. He'd no way to verify such, but what else could have transpired.

  Only Io was shaking her head. "No, you sent them to kill me. But I will go."

  "Io, I did not. Why do you think it was me?"

  "Because he said 'he said make it look like an accident' he said he, not she. Not she, your mother or she, Lady Blake."

  "You could not have mistaken what was said?" Perhaps if she was that frightened as to freeze and not fight back, she panicked enough to not hear correctly.

  "No, he said he, you," Io insisted and Xavier knew she wouldn't if she held any doubt.

  "He, Io, but not me," Xavier conceded although it made the situation even more complicated. Had his mother arranged for an assassin? Xavier would be surprised as it wasn't in his mother's nature to do anything for which she might be held accountable and the consequences direr. His mother wasn't brave in any manner, not enough to risk criminal charges.

  "You?" Io sniffed again but behind the thin veil of hair her eyes questioned. They didn't accuse as before.

  "Not me, Io." He lifted his hand and brushed back the hair. She didn't pull back so he took the risk and set his thumb on her cheek and wiped the tear away before it could fall. "Someone for sure. But not me."

  "You left me alone. You said it was safe but—" She was again accusing him but there was far less passion in the words now.

  "I did. I left you alone. I did not mean to, it was not my intent." Xavier worked his body a little closer. Bending his arm so he could rest his head on it, he lay down so their foreheads almost touched and Io didn't so much as f
linch.

  "No place is safe. No place in the whole world. Safe is a lie. You lied to me."

  "You are safe with me, Io, and I will never leave you again."

  She was quiet so long he wondered if she was finished speaking to him altogether. "Not you?"

  "Not me, Io. I swear on my life… I swear on my king's life, not me." He could tell by the flaring of her eyes and the sharp intake of breath his words struck deep. "I tell you, Io, if I lie to you now, may God strike my king dead and me as well."

  She lifted her head a bit and Xavier matched the movement so their eyes stayed locked on each other. "You swear on the very life of your king?" she asked. He nodded, hope filling him until Io's expression crumbled and she lay her head back face down and began to sob.

  "Io?" It was enough, this not touching her. Without thought he sat up and dragged Io against him. She didn't struggle though she did beat at him with one fist. The blows had no force and eventually her fist uncurled and she slapped at him with the flat of her hand. He adjusted them so she was more in his lap than on the cold ground. Her dress, quite wet, sucked the heat from her body. "Io," he leaned in and whispered her name.

  "I did not want it to be you. I did not want it to be you," she cried between gasps for air.

  "You did not want it to me, what?" He tried to get her situated on his lap and off the ground but he needed to be aware of the things she said now more than ever. He'd managed to put the crack in the wall she'd built between them and he couldn't miss any opportunity to continue pulling it down.

  "I wanted it to be her. Not you." She was calming and he could feel her pressing in rather than pulling away.

  "Io, it was not me." He might guess she was saying she didn't want to believe he'd tried to have her killed. And while that boded well for him, it also pointed out how very convincing she found the evidence against him. Perhaps there was more to her story. But as a gust of wind blew through and Io gave a fully bodied shudder, he knew he'd a different priority.

  "He said 'he,' " she repeated even as her fist took hold of Xavier's shirt and she pushed up so her head was tucked under his chin. "He, that is what he said."

  "And we will find the 'he,' Io. We will find him and he will be made to pay." Xavier set a hand on the side of her head and urged her to tuck in a little closer. The wind picked up and Io started to shiver. She pulled her arms in and drew up her knees. "But we cannot find him if you take a chill." He leaned back enough he could give her a kiss at the temple. He heard her whimper and wondered if she made the sound out of fear or relief. "Maybe you should put your cloak back on." He started rubbing her back, looking for the garment. His hand skimmed down then across where he found her feet resting on his thigh. He cupped one in his hand and squeezed trying to warm it. "And your boots, Io, your feet are freezing."

  "I lost them?" She sniffed and turned her face against his chest.

  "Lost what?" He felt her soften and curve into him. The rush of emotion made his head a little light. The walls were coming down. Whether or not she believed him, trusted him or still feared him, she, for now, was ready to accept whatever comfort he might give her.

  "My boots," she muttered.

  "I got you a new pair. You use those for now." He looked around now to see if he was near enough to get her feet back in them.

  "Io, come," Ian said, bending to lift Io into his arms. Xavier was reluctant to give her up and there was a momentary struggle. "There is a fire going. Come get warmed." Xavier relinquished his hold at those words. But he regretted it as soon as she was gone. He followed the man with his eyes as he carried her away. He saw Lucas step up and toss her cloak over her. But the moment they passed out of sight behind a stand of trees, Xavier felt nausea rising.

  Drawing up his knees, he set his head on them and tried to take in several calming breaths. God have mercy on him. How very close he'd come to losing her. To really losing her. If he'd any idea, any at all, that Io was so unsafe in his house… he'd… he… he couldn't even think.

  When Mark encouraged him to press Io to ride he never suspected it'd have led to such revelations. He expected a tantrum, a fight, crying about how she couldn't be disloyal to Wednesday. He didn't have a hint she'd confess an attempt on her life or that she thought he was behind it.

  "Come," Mark said from behind him giving his shoulder a pat. "We made camp." Xavier's expression must have asked the question because Mark gave the answer without a word from him. "Neither of you are in any form to continue and the truth is, returning Io to your house without a good plan to keep her safe is not something any of us can allow."

  Xavier knew this was no longer a simple matter of Io not getting along with Charlotte, or even a matter of the Blake ladies telling everyone Sabrina would be replacing her. And it was far more than someone in the house doing nasty things like locking her in a room and not saying anything when she couldn't be found. Pushing her down the steps and trying to poison her were serious. But to have the determination to actually send an assassin, even an inept one, there was simply no way to deny someone wanted his wife dead.

  It could be his mother, but again Xavier had his doubts. Charlotte had no spine. She'd do a great deal to get what she wanted, but it was more like her to work to drive them apart or to use a third party to force her will. She often used his father to make her children comply. But hiring someone to do murder? Maybe the Blakes? He couldn't know. He wasn't sure what happened. Io's recount hadn't been very coherent. She went from being hurt by a pitchfork to having a knife held to her to… had she really said she'd been thrown from a cliff? Until Io could help with the details, Xavier would be cautious letting anyone close to her. A plan for her safety did need to be made, and it could well include Io not returning home until the murderous bastard was caught.

  "Are you coming?" Mark asked, holding out a hand that Xavier might be helped to stand. One more deep breath and Xavier reached out and took the offered hand. But getting to his feet renewed the sick feeling and put him off balance. "Easy," Mark said, setting a steadying hand on his shoulder. "That was a great deal to hear all at once. As I said, you are in no condition to travel."

  "Did you know?" Xavier asked, taking a moment before trying to walk to camp.

  "Know?"

  "That she was going to say all that."

  "I never know what Io will say." Mark laughed softly. "Anyone else I can usually predict at least a measure. Every time your wife opens her mouth, I am again reminded I am far from the most astute man about."

  "But you wanted me to push her about getting on a horse," Xavier said as they started walking slowly.

  "Yes I thought maybe she would get angry about her horse going to slaughter and reveal something small, insignificant, about matters at the house. I never thought for a moment she'd accuse you of trying to murder her." Mark came to an abrupt stop. "Xavier that injury to her leg."

  "Yes."

  "That was well healed, it happened long before she ran."

  He wouldn't hold the man's suspicious tone against him. Every man with him this day seemed hell bound to give Io preference over him. "Yes, I suspected that too when I saw it."

  "How is it today is the first time, if you were bedding her again as you said you would have—" Mark might have asked the questions in an honest attempt to work out the sequence of events but they grated no less for the reasons.

  "Once," Xavier enunciated. "One time she came back to my bed before she left the house. And she…" Damn him to hell again. He'd never even given it a thought.

  "She what?"

  "She insisted on the chamber being dark." She hadn't wanted him to see the injury, because she thought he knew of it and believed he was behind it. Damn her too, she'd directed his hand while he was making love to her. He'd thought she wished to feel his touch in a different place. But Io's mind was on making sure he didn't know she'd been hurt. Why?

  "She was hiding how close to death she'd come. Hiding her vulnerability," Mark answered the question with his observatio
n. "If you knew, you might have questioned her and—"

  "Of course I would have questioned her, and then all this would have been brought to light and resolved then," Xavier barked. If his wife wasn't so stubborn and secretive, they could have avoided all of this and perhaps already discovered who tried to kill her. As much as he wasn't responsible for the attempt to kill her he could, now, find great pleasure in strangling her.

  "She wouldn't have anticipated the questions you would have asked, Xavier. She thought you responsible and she thought you already knew how she came by the wounds."

  "I still do not know how she was hurt. Did I miss it when she said how it happened?"

  "No, I gather it happened when she was pushed from the cliff although I would not wager on that answer. She said so much I had trouble following her," Mark said, pushing through some low hanging branches.

  Xavier entered camp and his eyes went straight to Io. She was sitting to Ian side leaning back against him. When Ian noticed they entered camp, his arm went around Io in a protective fashion. Again, he couldn't fault the men their suspicion, but it hurt their faith in him was diminished by these events. Until now, they hadn't held him responsible for Io running because he'd not dealt well with his mother. Now though, he knew, they all must be wondering if he'd a greater part in the collapse of the marriage. If the accidents hadn't been much more planned and calculated than he'd stated at first.

  "Win her, you win them," Mark said and gestured Xavier should walk ahead.

  "And you?" He didn't think he had this man free of doubt. Mark only shrugged his shoulders, reminding Xavier how much he hated the gesture he got commonly from his wife. With a sigh he moved through camp, aware of the eyes on him. Xavier schooled his expression. He'd not look guilty for their benefit. Not when he wasn't. And there was no harm in letting them have their suspicions. Perhaps they'd keep a vigilance he'd failed to have.