Her Dark Baron

by Nadja Notariani

  “I...I did not think...,” Elizabeth stammered.

  “No! You did not think!” he retorted angrily, his voice fading as he strode toward their rooms.

  Edmond called out from behind, running to gain his side before he closed their door.

  “Wait! Is there any change?”

  “No, Edmond. Send for Swanson at Brynn's Smithy at once.”

  “Swanson is in town?” Edmond asked with a startled expression. “Why is your man...”

  “That is not your concern. Send him to my rooms as soon as he arrives.”

  “Of course, brother,” Edmond gave answer, but Gervase had already knelt beside the bed that held his wife's still body, forgetting all but her.

  For the first time in many years, Gervase Daltrey prayed to the unseen God.

  Edith observed quietly, her good opinion of the Baron of Ayleshind strengthened as each day ticked by. He never left Mariel's side. A full day had passed before the effects of the poison began to wane. Three pouches of herbal satchels had been discovered missing from the basket Maude had sent along, leading both herself and the Baron to conclude that someone had added the contents of the pouches into the one Edith had prepared.

  Gervase, as he toweled off Mariel's hot forehead, considered their findings. The culprit had known about Maude's medicinal. The question remaining was when the extra powders had been added. Had it been previous to Edith's brewing, or added directly into the cup. He could not imagine Maude making such an error, nor would he believe she meant harm to Lady Mariel. Likewise, he struggled to suspect Edith. The multiple plans were too physically demanding and elaborate for either woman. Besides, neither had any hope of gain from her demise.

  Harold Flanders was still the main suspect, and Gervase was convinced the man was somehow involved. The pieces did not fit exactly. Knowing that Flanders truly believed him to be a heartless hell-hound, the man would think it lunacy to murder his wife as an act of revenge. Flanders would indeed grab at an opportunity to dispose of him, but...

  Mariel murmured in the hazy fog of delusion.

  “Gervase...,” her plaintive whisper sparked hope in him.

  Smoothing the hair from her face, he answered.

  “Don't leave me, sweetling. Please don't leave me.”

  * * *

  A few weeks had passed without incident. Mariel recovered slowly from her ordeal, and Gervase had almost convinced himself that things were all right. Now this.

  The Baron of Ayleshind had seen enough. Four mutilated cattle. Mounting Daegon, he started toward Flanders' lands with Swanson.

  Cresting the second knoll, Gervase spotted riders approaching. It was another quarter of an hour before they crested the next rise, revealing none other than Baron Flanders with Arthur Landis and another companion.

  “Baron Daltrey!” Flanders huffed from across the expanse, “I ride toward Ayleshind with a matter of the gravest nature.”

  “Approach,” Gervase gave him leave.

  Beside him, Swanson watched warily, ready to engage if necessary, and Gervase nodded at his trusted friend as the party neared.

  “Daltrey,” Flanders acknowledged. “I'll cut to the quick. I've five head of cattle dead – cut open and left to rot. This is the second occurrence in the last months, and I aim to discover if it is you wreaking havoc on my lands!”

  Gervase manipulated the facts, organizing his growing knowledge.

  “Quite interesting, Flanders, since I ride for your lands over the same matter.”

  “What?” the rotund man blustered.

  “It would appear that we've both lost stock overnight. I've three cows and one bull left in the same condition. Ruined.”

  “Impossible! It's a trick of the devil – or a lie! I headed over to warn you that if I lose another animal, I'll lay siege to Ayleshind!”

  “That would be your first error. And your last, Baron Flanders.”

  Gervase stilled, his thoughts running together wildly, and he fought to order them, knowing he teetered on discovery.

  “Baron Daltrey, I've known of your black-handed ways all along! Do not think I was unaware that your brother met George Rowland - God rest his simple soul - not two days before his death. They were chatting out on the moors! You and your brother tricked the simpleton into thinking you a friend, then used him to bring an accusation against me! After which you killed him to hide your deed! Arthur Landis saw the Ayleshind cloak on your fleeing back!”

  Wrath churned in Gervase Daltrey's bones, his mind conjecturing with lightning-like speed.

  “My brother and Rowland met? You saw them with your own eyes?”

  Gervase's voice was tight and edgy.

  “With my own eyes,” Flanders responded without hesitation.

  From Gervase's right, Swanson uttered, “God's teeth! My friend, I did not think it of import before, but I saw Edmond with your riding cloak.”

  Gervase spoke rapidly, his face pale with fear.

  “Baron Flanders, there is no time to explain. Ride with me to Ayleshind, for I believe my wife is in mortal danger.”

  Goading Daegon into flight, Gervase Daltrey heard Flanders call out from behind.

  “By whose hand?”

  “My own brother.”

  The words tasted bitter in Gervase's throat.

  Chapter 10

  “We'll take good care of her, Edith,” Elizabeth promised. “You rest. Besides, the sunshine and fresh air will do her good.”

  Mariel agreed.

  “Not many warm days like this remain. The harvesting signals that winter will soon beset us.”

  Edith clucked from her seat before the low fire.

  “All right, child. I suppose you are correct. Baron Daltrey won't mind my letting you out of my sight if you promise not to leave Edmond and Elizabeth, not even for a minute.”

  “I promise, Edith,” Mariel beamed.

  Gathering the basket Maude had prepared, the ladies set out to join Edmond, who waited in the courtyard. Mariel, in high spirits to be out of doors, walked briskly beside her sister-in-law.

  “Oh, wait! I almost forgot. Excuse me a moment.”

  Mariel hurried back toward the stables. Finding the stable boy ready to assist her, Mariel asked, “Trevor, will you do something for me?”

  The playful glint in her blue eyes drew an eager nod of assent.

  “Good. Leave this message for the Baron. I want him to join us on the knoll where we'll picnic when he returns.”

  “Pardon, my lady, but you're going to the lake, are you not?”

  Mariel laughed.

  “Now what makes you think that? You must tell me, because I've heard from the Baron how quick and sharp witted you are.”

  Trevor hesitated, unsure if his observations would ruin a surprise.

  “My lady, the Baron's brother had the boat taken to the north lake earlier.”

  “Oh,” Mariel acknowledged in a quiet voice. “I see.”

  “Don't worry, my lady. I'll explain to the Master. That way he'll be sure to find you,” Trevor smiled, hoping to cheer her back to the boisterousness she bounded in with.

  “Thank you Trevor,” she smiled. “I don't want to miss him.”

  “I will see that you don't, Lady. Do not worry.”

  Mariel returned to Elizabeth and Edmond, the trio setting out.

  “I've a surprise for you both,” Edmond declared.

  “What is it?” Elizabeth blinked in shock.

  “We will have our picnic by the north lake today. The bright fall sun will have warmed the rocks nicely.”

  Mariel smiled, happy she hadn't spoiled Edmond's surprise my mentioning what Trevor had told her. Leisurely, they enjoyed the roasted rabbit, bread and fig tart, Mariel and Elizabeth talking of preparations for the winter months going on at Ayleshind and what James' reaction to seeing his first snowfall would be. The two had grown close over the months despite their vast differences in personality. Edmond busied himself by readying the boat, ignoring the chatter of the
ladies, and Mariel thought her brother-in-law pensive and distracted as she followed his progress. As if aware of her studying gaze, Edmond turned to her after scanning the horizon in Ayleshind's direction.

  “Lady Mariel, did you say where my brother rode for this morn?”

  Mariel detected a nervous edge to Edmond's voice, and pondering that fact, she realized that the man hadn't been himself since they set out.

  “I did not,” Mariel answered. “The Baron does not often include me in his daily rounds.”

  “Do you expect his return soon?”

  Mariel laughed. She never really could predict where or when her husband would turn up. When Edmond failed to laugh along with her at the observation, a pang of uneasiness stabbed at her middle. She decided to lie.

  “The Baron should be along any time.”

  Her reassuring statement did not settle Edmond's nervous appearance. Rather, she thought he seemed in a greater state of agitation. The plastered smile he wore bordered a sneer.

  Edmond knew his restlessness would only be settled once they were away from the shore. He'd provided a diversion to keep Gervase busy for the afternoon – mutilated cattle on both Ayleshind and Flanders' lands – but without knowing for sure his brother's business, he could not be certain Gervase had even been informed yet.

  “Shall we row around the lake, ladies?”

  “Oh, let's!” Elizabeth chimed eagerly. “Lady Mariel, grab our cloaks. The breeze is picking up and will cut to the bone on the open water.”

  * * *

  Trevor, after leaving explicit instructions with the other stable hands, mounted Tell-Tale and charged in the direction of the grazing pastures. His heart slammed against his chest, for taking the Lady's horse was a bold action. If found to be wrong, Trevor could find himself dismissed from the Baron's employ, but he could not ignore the gnawing suspicion in the pit of his stomach. After his strange interaction with Edmond earlier in the day he had been out of sorts. Now, his recent discovery compelled him to action.

  “Let me have the boat moved for you, Master Edmond.”

  “That will not be necessary, boy. Get back to your duties! I'll speak to my brother about your nosy ways.”

  Edmond glared at him, leaving Trevor unsure what he had done to warrant such a reaction. He also could not believe the man's refusal for help. Edmond had always been lazy, never lifting a finger if there was someone else to carry out the duty. To hear the man volunteer to perform labor of any sort unsettled him.

  “Then allow me to send one of the hands to aid you. You cannot think to move the boat without assistance.”

  “I told you to leave me, boy! I've made my arrangements.”

  Edmond's answer was final. Even being a favorite of Baron Daltrey's would not induce Trevor to insolence. He knew his place.

  “Very well, sir,” Trevor accepted, bowing and returning to his duties.

  If only he had seen earlier.

  Upon returning to the stable's outbuilding this afternoon, after Lady Mariel had left in the company of Edmond and Lady Elizabeth, Trevor discovered an auger on the floor along with a sizable pile of sawdust where the boat had been just a few hours earlier.

  Frantically, Trevor's eyes scanned the hills' surrounding crests, searching for sign of a rider. His thoughts raced with Tell-Tale's thundering hoof beats along the turf.

  * * *

  Daegon's strides quickly covered ground, but to Gervase, the pace lagged. Spurring his mount, he urged the beast desperately onward. Facts slid into place as the missing piece, the keystone which had been absent prior to Flanders' outburst, fitted the shadowy suspicions of Gervase's thoughts into a clear image.

  Edmond and his wife were the constants in the equation that he had failed to solve. Gervase cursed himself for not seeing what had been right before his eyes all along. The only question he did not yet know the answer to was why Edmond had waited until after he was married? Why not have carried out the evil deed before?

  Not that it mattered. What mattered was reaching home before anything happened to Mariel. The Baron of Ayleshind resisted considering the alternative. All of England would taste the Hound of Hell's fury if he were too late. Spotting a rider atop Tell-Tale thundering toward them at a breakneck pace brought Gervase's heart into his throat.

  “Master Daltrey!” the young man yelled, breathless from exertion.

  “Trevor,” Gervase answered with surprise, recognizing his stable hand before him upon his wife's horse. “What is it?”

  “Follow me! Quickly! Forgive me for saying, my lord, but I cannot hold my tongue.”

  With trepidation and great respect, Trevor communicated all he had seen and heard as they rushed toward the lake. Gervase listened to what the young man's eyes had discovered, the revelation magnifying his fears.

  Swanson inserted himself, “My lord, do you think Edmond will harm Lady Mariel with Elizabeth present?”

  Either he will orchestrate the perfect accident, and his wife will serve as his witness, or he is confident of her compliance with his plan.”

  Gervase broke from their sides at this, spurring Daegon with a guttural howl.

  * * *

  A brisk wind pushed white tips high on the lake's surface, creating the choppy water effect that Mariel found so lovely to behold. Pulling the woolen cloak snugly around her neck, Mariel savored autumn's crisp scent carried on the lake breeze. It was simply impossible to maintain an unhappy or bothered disposition, Mariel thought, witnessing Edmond's subtle transformation as they meandered across the lake. Nearing the lake's center, Edmond left off rowing.

  “You cannot stop here, Edmond,” Lady Elizabeth said in teasing laughter.

  Edmond leaned back and smiled impishly.

  “Of course I can.”

  In high spirits, talking and taking in the beauty surrounding them on all sides, the panoramic view afforded from the water stole any concerns, and neither Mariel nor Elizabeth took notice of Edmond until he asserted himself forcefully into their conversation.

  “Lady Mariel, I must insist on your undivided attention.”

  Lady Elizabeth stopped mid-sentence to gape at her husband, who had shed all clothing but his shirt and breeches.

  “Edmond,” she gasped, “What ever are you doing?”

  “Close your mouth, Elizabeth, dear. You're a fright when it's open,” Edmond insulted.

  He propped himself against the side ledge, a smug air to the display.

  “Now then, I suppose an explanation of sorts is due. My brother had no hopes of making an alliance; there is not a sensible soul in all Northumberland that would deal with their daughter so cruelly. All I needed to do was sit back and wait. I had open access to Ayleshind wealth. Gervase would produce no heir, and Ayleshind would surely pass, if not to me, then to my son. But you, Lady Mariel, you came along thanks to that insufferable embarrassment, King Charles.”

  Edmond twisted, scanning the horizon once again before continuing as if he were explaining nothing more interesting than his daily work.

  “My perfect plan crumbled before my very eyes, and I knew action on my part was necessary before my dear brother started you breeding. Thanks to my ever talkative and gossiping wife, I learned that it probably wouldn't take long. So I moved. But you prove difficult to eliminate, Lady Mariel.”

  Mariel, who sat in stunned silence to this point, spoke shakily.

  “It has been your hand all along, Edmond? You poisoned me? Tried to set fire to the north side apartments?”

  “Not my finest work, Lady Mariel, as your current, hale state shows.”

  Edmond's face wore an expression of complete ease, and Mariel believed him almost amused with her shock. And her fear.

  “Why? Your brother would give you anything you asked? What can you hope to gain other than the responsibilities of Ayleshind, of which you are presently free?”

  “To remove the stain of him from upon Ayleshind – on the Daltrey name!” Edmond spat with vehemence. “My brother's lording over me
will be finished at last! He won't be keeping Ayleshind from me any longer.”

  With that violent outburst, Edmond reached down and pulled the plug from the hole in the boat's bottom.

  “Dear God in heaven, Edmond! What have you done?” Elizabeth screamed. “You've sent us all to our graves!”

  Elizabeth Daltrey bordered on hysteria, her green eyes wide with terror.

  “Calm yourself, Elizabeth, dear,” Edmond sneered. “I've no intention of letting you drown. But you'll keep my deed a secret. You see how easily I dispose of Lady Mariel. I've devised the perfect accident. I'll play the distraught brother, explaining tearfully that I could save only one of you...”

  “You may succeed with your evil plan, but Gervase will find you out. When he does, your life is forfeit.”

  Mariel's cheeks blazed with fiery anger for herself and for her husband.

  Edmond's snide laugh chilled her to the bone.

  “Oh, Lady, Gervase will never find out the truth.”

  His eyes claimed malevolent victory with his next words.

  “The only other soul to know fully of my plan was the simpleton, George Rowland, and you know well what happened to him. No, the irony is that Gervase will welcome me into his home to comfort him in his time of grief, and all the while he'll gladly ask my help to oust Baron Flanders from his lands. I've arranged for that to happen, too, with a few slaughtered cattle to stir the pot.”

  Tears spilled down Mariel's cheeks. Tears of anger. Of frustration. Of helplessness. She cried for the future she would not have with the man she loved, wept bitter tears that her husband would be fooled by his brother.

  Would Edmond then kill Gervase?

  Mariel whispered a silent prayer asking for divine intervention once again. If Gervase arrived, he would make everything all right.

  “It cheers me to see you've a heavy gown on, Lady Mariel. You'll sink much more quickly,” Edmond pronounced his final barb. “Off you go.”

  He pushed her out of the small boat, which rapidly filled with water.

  Mariel realized at once that her gown was too heavy to allow her to float and frantically fought to unlace the bodice. If only she could open it enough, maybe she could swim out of the cumbersome dress. Her hands could not unfasten quickly enough, and the material grew heavier as it became saturated fully.