Concerned, Alyx did. She followed Morley to the western side of the keep and up two flights of narrow stairs until they came to an iron gate that was guarded by a weeping lady. Alyx noticed that it was one of Lady Lilia’s women, who shut the gate behind her, and Morley, throwing the bolt as if she were frightened to leave it unlocked.
Alyx’s concern grew.
They passed into the next chamber, which was devoid of people, but passing into the third and final chamber, Alyx could see Antonia and another lady hovering over a supine body on the bed. As Morley and Alyx drew near, Alyx could see that the body on the bed was Lilia.
Her gown was torn and her face was bloodied.
“Sweet Jesus!” Alyx exclaimed softly as she came around the bed to survey the damage. “What on earth happened?”
Lilia was weeping steadily. Her beautiful dress was ruined and everything about her was in complete disarray. Her lady bent over her, trying to wipe away the blood and soothe the woman, as Antonia stood at the foot of the bed with her arms folded stiffly across her chest. When Alyx asked the question, Antonia turned to Alyx in complete despair.
“We did not know who to turn to, my lady,” she said tightly. “You must promise you will not repeat any of this, to anyone. We fear of what could happen if you do.”
Alyx was greatly distressed. “Of course I will not repeat it,” she said. “But what happened?”
Antonia sighed heavily as she turned away from the bed, searching for the nearest chair. She made a good show at being weak and distraught.
“I am not sure how to begin,” she said. “My lady, we have a man of darkness among us, a man with an unsavory past. He is not who everyone thinks he is.”
Alyx looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?” she asked. “What man?”
Antonia looked at her hands, fumbling with something that looked like a gold ring. “I am afraid to speak of him lest he punish me,” she said. “When Lord de Weese made the pact with the father, he had no idea what the son was truly like, but he should have guessed. You see, the son had a bastard who was taken to Elmington House and hidden. We should have known then what kind of man he was to cast a child aside so easily.”
A warning bell went off in Alyx’s mind. “Who are you speaking of, Lady Antonia? Be plain.”
Antonia sighed once more before lifting her hand, showing the gold ring to Alyx. “Do you know this ring?”
Alyx peered at it. It was definitely a signet ring but she couldn’t make it out. “Nay. Who does it belong to?”
“The House of de Royans.”
Alyx felt as if she’d been hit in the gut. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “What has happened to Lady Lilia and who has a bastard son?”
Antonia looked at her, her severe face pale and drawn. “The answer to both questions is Sir Torston,” she said. “You see, my lady, this all started when Sir Torston sent his bastard son to live at Elmington House. Lord de Weese, who was friends with Sir Torston’s father, took the child in to protect the House of de Royans, and Torston in particular. He had just started his position here at The Lyceum and his father was afraid that the bastard would damage Torston’s reputation.”
Alyx could hardly breathe. “Torston… he has a son?”
Antonia nodded. “He does,” she said. “Sir Torston wants everyone to believe he is a moral and a just man, but he is not. Just look at Lilia. He did that.”
Horrified, Alyx looked to Lilia, who was lying on her side and weeping softly. Curled up into a ball, her hands were over her face as she wept.
“Nay,” Alyx breathed. “Torston did not do that. He would not do that.”
“But he did,” Lady Lilia’s woman spoke from beside the bed. “You cannot tell him what we have told you or he will come back and kill us all!”
She was nearly hysterical and Alyx was becoming caught up in the hysteria. “You are lying,” she snarled, backing away from Antonia and the bed where the women were. “Torston would never… he would never strike a woman! He would never do this!”
Antonia started to weep also. “I do not think he intended to,” she said. “After you left Lady Lilia in the garden, Sir Torston came to Lilia to give her the signet ring of his forefathers. But in doing so, he also demanded a foretaste of his husbandly rights. He told her that he had waited long enough to sample his wife and when she refused, he tried to force her. He tore her clothing. In the struggle, she fell and hurt herself.”
Alyx was feeling faint. Weak with confusion, she stumbled back and ended up leaning against the wall. Her shocked gaze was on Lilia and her torn clothing before her focus moved to Morley, still standing by the bed. The sight of him seemed to snap her out of her shock.
“Torston did not do this,” she said. “You know him. You have known him for years, as I have. He is a gentle man, a man of honor. He would never do this!”
Morley was terribly distressed. “He is a man of honor to you,” he said hoarsely. “My lady, he did, indeed, have a bastard son who was sent to the House of de Weese. It is true. When he first arrived at The Lyceum, he impregnated a servant girl and after the child’s birth, he made sure the woman did not cause any further trouble.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that the woman met her end quite mysteriously. She was found dead after the birth of the child. No one speaks of it because they are afraid of what Sir Torston might do.” He took a step toward her. “Alyx, Torston lets you see what he wants you to see, but to many people here at The Lyceum… he is the devil.”
Alyx thought she might become physically ill. Her hands went to her mouth, covering it to hold back the bile that was rising in her throat. “Nay,” she finally gasped. “It is not true. None of it is true!”
Morley pointed to the women in the chamber. “You have three women all telling you the same thing,” he said. “They are terrified of Sir Torston. I am telling you what I know of him. It is simply something we do not speak of at The Lyceum and certainly something we have never mentioned to you or your father for fear of retribution from Sir Torston. If you do not believe me about the child, ask him, but do not tell him who told you. Do not mention the child’s mother, for if you do, it is possible your life is forfeit as well. Sir Torston has many secrets to keep.”
Alyx was dizzy. She thought she possibly might faint but struggled to keep her wits about her. Four people were telling her that Torston had done something terrible, including Morley, a man she knew and trusted.
Why would he tell her terrible things about Torston if they weren’t true?
Distraught, she wanted to leave. She had to get out of there and think about the situation. They all seemed convinced that Torston would return to kill them all if he knew they’d spoken to her, but that wasn’t the Torston she knew.
… or did she really know him at all?
A bastard son… a dead serving wench… and now Lilia, who had clearly been assaulted. And Torston was the cause of it all?
Alyx simply couldn’t believe it.
She started to stumble toward the chamber door but Morley stopped her.
“My lady, we need your help,” he said imploringly. “Will you not help Lady Lilia?”
Alyx came to an unsteady halt. “What do you want me to do?”
“The ladies are afraid to leave these chambers at the moment,” he said. “Will you not go to the kitchens and bring back wine for poor Lady Lilia?”
A ripple of disbelief crossed Alyx’ face. “You brought me here for that?” she said, incredulous. “You could have sent any servant for that.”
“We do not want any servant to see Lady Lilia,” he insisted. “We must keep this incident a secret, do you understand? If Sir Torston thinks we have told anyone, he will kill us all. My lady, please – you must never speak of this to him, not ever.”
Alyx was at her breaking point. “You’re all horrid for saying such things about Torston,” she said, looking at everyone in the chamber. “He is a kind, noble man a
nd he would never do what you have accused him of. I don’t believe any of it!”
Antonia held up the ring. “This is proof, my lady,” she said. “Believe what you will, but this is the de Royans ring given to Lilia by Sir Torston. Mayhap he is kind and noble to you, but to Lilia, he is a beast. A beast who is to be her husband.”
“You’re lying!”
“You have the luxury to believe what you will. You are not marrying him.”
It was a slap in the face, one of reality, and Alyx had enough. Ignoring Antonia, Morley, and the weeping of the women, she staggered out of the chambers and hurried down the stairwell. Her mind was whirling and her heart was being ripped to pieces.
It wasn’t true! It couldn’t be true!
But there was some doubt purely from the fact that four people, including Morley, had told her the same thing. There was so much confusion in her mind that she was certain her head was going to explode from the force of it, but one thing was for certain – she needed to think through this, to calm herself, and to decide if she trusted Torston or not. Was he the great, noble knight she had loved all of these years?
Or was he the devil in disguise?
Now that he’d seduced her, would she become his next victim?
Reaching her borrowed chamber, Alyx locked herself inside and refused to come out, not even when Torston himself knocked on the door to announce that the feast was beginning. Pleading illness, and begging to be left alone, Torston left Alyx in her chamber, puzzled by her behavior as well as concerned.
When Lady Lilia didn’t attend the feast, either, he wondered if the absence of both women was an odd coincidence.
Something told him that it wasn’t.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Something is not right.”
Those were Lionel’s softly uttered words. He was sitting with Winslow and Dyl on the dais, lounging on his dining couch and watching the room full of men gorging themselves. Torston and Jess had been present earlier in the evening but they’d excused themselves to take the night watch. At least, that was the excuse. It all came about around the time Lady Antonia entered the hall.
Lady Antonia was followed by Lady Lilia’s two women, but Lady Lilia herself wasn’t present. Lady Antonia approached Lionel and spouted off a smooth speech about Lilia being devastated that she was too ill to attend the feast. Lionel hadn’t cared one way or the other, so he ignored the women as Morley placed them on their own fine couches at the end of the dais.
That had been well over an hour ago. Lionel and Winslow had eaten in silence mostly because they had said everything they needed to say earlier in Lionel’s solar. Lionel was still inclined to believe that Douglas Kerr was trying to set up a trap of some kind with the offer of marriage and Winslow had exhausted himself trying to convince the man otherwise.
It hadn’t been a productive discussion.
Winslow, pale and tired, didn’t eat much but he drank a good deal. Next to him, Dyl shoveled beef into his mouth and watched the room attentively. He liked to watch new people, so he was interested in everything, including Lady Antonia at the end of the dais.
The women were huddled together, eating their meals and whispering to themselves. At one point, Lionel left the hall to use the privy and as he returned, he saw Morley speaking to Lady Antonia, but the moment Morley saw his liege returning, he made himself scarce.
Paranoia notwithstanding, Lionel found it strange that The Lyceum’s majordomo should even speak to Lady Antonia in any fashion and that was when Lionel spoke the quietly uttered words, not once, but twice.
“Did you hear me, Winslow?” he said. “Something is not right.”
Truthfully, Winslow didn’t have the energy for Lionel’s suspicions at the moment. He’d spent all afternoon defending himself from them.
“What is not right, Great Caesar?” he asked with forced patience. “Do you find something amiss?”
“Torston is not here,” Lionel said. “Alyx is not here, nor is Lady Lilia. Where are they? And why is Morley whispering to Lady Antonia?”
Winslow cast a disinterested glance to the end of the dais where the ladies were. “I do not see Morley,” he said. “Did you see him speaking with the lady?”
“I did.”
“Tonight?”
Lionel sighed sharply. “I know you and Torston think I am mad, but I know what I see,” he said. “Something is not right and it all started when Lady Lilia came uninvited. That is the cause of everything.”
Winslow drained his cup. “The woman came to see her betrothed,” he said. “Her appearance was unexpected and that is the only thing that is amiss. You are having a great feast for her next week and after that, Torston will probably send her back where she came from. You will not have to worry over her any longer.”
Lionel grunted as if he didn’t believe it but he was distracted from any further conversation as the Nubian dance troupe raced out onto the floor of the hall to begin their entertainment for the night. Beating drums and gyrating people had the attention of the diners, and Lionel momentarily forgot about his paranoia. On Winslow’s right, Dyl was positively hypnotized by what he was seeing.
His eyes widened as he pointed to the strange and wonderful entertainers.
“Da!” Dyl gasped. “Men like coal!”
Winslow smiled wearily at his astonished son as he beheld dark-skinned people for the first time. “They are from a faraway land,” he said. “They can do things I have never seen an Englishman do, Dyl.”
The men of the troupe were doing flips and Dyl suddenly stood up, clapping enthusiastically. “I will learn!” he cried. “They will teach me!”
Laughing softly, Winslow tugged on his son’s arm, pulling him back into his seat. “Enjoy their entertainment, lad,” he said. “If you truly want to learn, I will speak with them. But it seems to me that it would be very difficult to learn.”
Dyl was enthralled. A man in an elaborate headdress rushed the dais, straight up to Dyl, holding forth a small pouch in the palm of his hand. He extended it to Dyl, who timidly reached for it, but the man suddenly clapped his hands together and the small pouch exploded in sparks. The surprise nearly startled Dyl right onto the floor, but he came back strong, laughing at the trick. As the man ran back to his troupe, Dyl tried to follow.
“Nay, lad,” Winslow said, grabbing him again. “You cannot join them. I told you that you must watch them for now and if you want to meet them, we will speak to them on the morrow.”
Dyl understood, but he was disappointed. He watched, becoming more and more depressed that he couldn’t join in because it looked like great fun. He wanted to run and jump and flip in the air. He turned to his father.
“They can go see Alyx?” he asked.
Winslow was thinking seriously on seeking his bed. As a result of his stressful day, his chest was aching more than usual. “Why would they need to see Alyx?”
Dyl pointed to the lively performance. “It will make her happy. She not be sad anymore.”
“I do not think she is sad right now.”
Dyl’s gaze moved to the end of the dais where Lady Antonia and the women were speaking between themselves. “Alyx spoke to Lady Lilia today,” he said. “I saw her. She smiled but I don’t think she was happy. She smiled because she had to.”
Winslow’s gaze moved to the end of the dais as well. He hadn’t spent an over amount of time inspecting the women who had accompanied Torston’s betrothed, mostly because if Alyx had behaved herself, there wasn’t any reason to. He saw nothing more than ordinary women.
“I think you worry too much for your sister, Dyl,” he said. “If you want to help her, the best thing you can do is not bother her with talk of Torston’s betrothed. Do you understand?”
Dyl did, sort of, but he didn’t have the ability to think of the greater picture. He was only able to focus on immediate need.
“We go home tomorrow?” he asked quietly.
Winslow nodded. “Aye, we go home tomorrow,” he said.
“In fact, I believe I shall retire now. Bid a good evening to Great Caesar, Dyl.”
Lionel heard him. As Winslow stood up, weaving wearily, Lionel turned to him. “Dyl does not have to leave,” he said. “Leave him with me. I shall watch over him and make sure he returns to you safely. He wants to watch the Nubians.”
Dyl nodded eagerly. Winslow wasn’t thrilled with the idea of leaving his son with a man who seemed to be slipping in and out of sanity, but against his better judgement, he agreed. His son did seem very happy.
“You may stay to watch the entertainment with Great Caesar,” he said to Dyl. “However, when they are finished, you come to bed. Do you understand?”
Dyl nodded. “I will,” he said. “As soon as they finish.”
Winslow touched his son on the head and bid Lionel a good evening, leaving the dais and passing by the women who paid him no attention. They were too focused on each other, on their conversation.
But Lionel was watching them. As Winslow disappeared from the hall, he changed couches so he was next to Dyl.
“Dyl,” he said. “Are you truly worried for your sister?”
Dyl looked at the man with the mussed hair and stained robe. In spite of everything, Lionel had always been kind to him and Dyl trusted him. “Aye, Great Caesar.”
“I am, also,” Lionel said, lowering his voice as much as he was able over the loud drums of the Nubians. “Do you want to help her?”
Dyl looked at him rather blankly. “I love my sister.”
Lionel patted him on the arm. “I know, lad,” he said. “You can help her.”
“What I do?”
Lionel discreetly gestured to the women at the end of the dais. “They are making your sister sad,” he told him. “I think they mean to harm us all. Do you understand that?”
Dyl looked concerned. “Hurt Alyx?”
Lionel nodded. “Aye,” he said. “Hurt Alyx. If you can find out what they are doing, that will help Alyx.”
“How?”
Lionel’s paranoia had the better of him, now sucking an innocent young man into his web. “I will take you to their chambers,” he said. “You can hide and listen to what they say. Whatever they speak of, you must come and tell me right away. I believe they mean to harm all of us. This is very important, Dyl. Will you do this for me? For Alyx?”
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