Not even Torston de Royans.
“He’s not a saint.” She didn’t want to tell Douglas but, somehow, his gentle manner and fluid logic seemed to destroy all of her control. “I’ve been told he has a bastard, but that’s not unusual. Many men do.”
“Where is the child?”
“He was sent to Lady Lilia’s family.”
“Torston’s betrothed?”
“Aye.”
Douglas frowned, as if something astonishing had just occurred to him. “So the man has a bastard and sends it tae the house of his betrothed tae be raised,” he said. “Dinna ye see, lass? There was a reason for that, I’m sure. He and his Lady Lilia are going tae raise the lad together. She has probably been taking care of the child all these years, waiting for the moment when the three of them would be together. De Royans has known this all along.”
Alyx was looking at him in mounting horror, struggling not to react to the logic she was catching on to. “Then… then this is a family years in the making.”
“That’s what it looks like tae me,” Douglas said, trying to be gentle. “He told ye he would break the contract when he knew very well he couldna. He said it tae get ye into his bed, lass. Dinna ye see?”
Alyx understood. God help her, she understood, but she was too distraught to answer. She could hardly believe what the mounting evidence was telling her.
Torston already has a family waiting for him, she thought. He knew that when he told me that he wanted me!
For lack of a better response, Douglas pulled her against his chest, lifting her into his arms under the weak pretense of removing her recently-warmed feet from the cold ground. Alyx didn’t even resist him. She let him pick her up, too distressed to fight him off. The sweetness of her warmth nearly more than he could bear.
“There, there, sweetheart,” he cooed gently. “It doesna matter. Everything will be all right. Ye need a bit of food and a warm bed and…”
Alyx was consumed with her thoughts, so much so that she could scarcely think on anything else. “How can he possibly break the betrothal with a family already waiting for him?” she muttered. “Lilia has been planning this. That’s why they told me about the child!”
“Did ye ever truly believe he would break the betrothal, lass?” Douglas’ voice was amazingly smooth, soothing. “Did ye ever stop tae think how difficult it would be? Betrothals canna be discarded as one would dispose of rubbish. They’re unbreakable, in the eyes of the Church and God. De Royans was filling yer head with dreams if he told ye he could break his contract. Can ye not see that, lass?”
Through her turmoil, Alyx managed to ponder that thought. She couldn’t believe it was the truth. Too exhausted to fight Douglas’ warm, strong arms, she simply gave up. Not that she was enjoying it; she was simply too tired to fight any longer.
Her strength was gone.
“I simply don’t know,” she murmured, suddenly feeling very, very weak. “I cannot think on this any longer. I want to go home.”
Douglas shifted her in his arms, knowing that, for the moment, he had won the battle. She was too exhausted to resist him and he intended to use it to his advantage.
“I’ve a better idea, sweetheart.” He was already moving through the trees, following the trail his men had left in the bramble. “Ye need tae be away from these people who torture ye.”
Alyx was silent a moment, knowing she should defy him with her dying breath but truthfully too tired to make the attempt. It seemed that, for all of the turmoil and confusion she had so recently suffered, the fight had gone out of her like the flame from a candle. Aloft in in Douglas’ big arms, she was nearly oblivious to what was happening to her.
As if it didn’t matter anymore.
“You’re taking me back to Scotland, aren’t you?”
Douglas didn’t reply.
He didn’t have to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Lyceum
“Is everything satisfactory this day, madam?” Morley’s tone was professional.
Standing in the open iron door of Lady Lilia’s comfortable chambers, Antonia smiled thinly.
“How kind of you to ask,” she said. “Won’t you come in?”
It all appeared quite innocent. No one over-listening in the corridor would have suspected Morley of doing anything other than his duty. The majordomo stepped into the chamber as Antonia closed the door behind him, giving them their privacy.
“Do you have everything you require?”
“Everything within reason,” Antonia replied. She passed a glance at the ladies embroidering near the open window, the light of morning illuminating the colorful cloth in their hands. The women focused on their work, pretending to ignore the visitor. “It was kind of Sir Torston to send you here to see to Lady Lilia’s needs.”
Morley glanced at the ladies as well, the pleasant pretext of his visit diminishing. He had come for a reason and it was not to see to their comfort.
“Sir Torston did not send me,” he said, his tone lowered. “We must talk, madam.”
Antonia sensed the shift in mood, her own pleasant manner fading. “Lady Alyx?” she hissed.
Morley shook his head. “Nothing that concerns her.”
Antonia seemed to relax, relieved that Alyx had not gone to Torston with what she’d been told yesterday. The little bitch had been wise enough to keep her mouth shut.
“What is it, then?” she asked.
Morley took a slow, deep breath. “There could be… trouble.”
“What trouble?”
Morley lifted his eyebrows. “Lord Winslow sent his captain, Lance Brockenhurst, to Elmington House to see what he could discover of Lady Lilia’s background.”
Antonia’s dark eyes flashed, a tremor of foreboding coursing through her. “I do not understand,” she said. “Why would he do this?”
“Because Lionel is slipping further and further into paranoia and madness,” Morley hissed, keeping his voice down so the other women would not hear him. “He fears everyone, including Lilia, is allied with the Scots, all of it designed to undermine The Lyceum. Lance departed The Lyceum last night with the directive to discover what he could about Lady Lilia’s allegiances. But I also discovered that Torston wants Lance to see if he can discover anything about Lilia’s background, anything that would be helpful in breaking the betrothal.”
Antonia was silent a moment. “What makes you think Sir Lance will discover anything at all?”
Morley pursed his lips with frustration. “Shall I make it clear to you? He could discover, for example, that there is no Duc de Boussac. And that would only lead him to dig deeper.” He shook his head nervously. “Sir Lance is not a stupid man. If there is anything to be discovered, he’ll find it, and he’ll report that back to Torston.”
Antonia regarded him coolly. “Our tracks are covered. There are those still at Elmington House under instructions to confirm that Lady Lilia’s brother is Duc de Boussac.”
Morley was not convinced. “But why did you have to make up this dukedom? What purpose did it serve?”
“I told you. To impress Sir Torston and to make the marriage more attractive, of course. Do you question my motives, Morley?”
Morley fixed on her, his gaze hard. “You should know that Torston is trying to find some excuse out of this marriage. Any excuse will do.”
“Because of Lady Alyx.”
It was not a question. Morley could only acknowledge the obvious. “They are quite fond of one another.”
Antonia smiled thinly. “No longer, I would suspect.”
“Because of our performance yesterday?” Morley asked. “Alyx is no fool. I am not entirely sure she believed any of it.”
“It was enough to plant a seed of doubt in her mind.”
“Doubt cannot kill what Torston and Alyx have between them.”
The black-haired woman eyed him. “Then if a seed of doubt is not enough to split them up, I will not hesitate to do something more… permanent.”
> Morley shook his head. “That is a very bad idea,” he said. “She is well-liked. If you think to harm her…”
“That is not something you need worry over.” Antonia would not elaborate, though she wasn’t beyond making sure Alyx tripped down a flight of stairs or was kicked by an angry horse. She veered the conversation back on its original course. “Now, as you were saying, what could Sir Torston possibly do to rid himself of this contract? We have prepared for every possible contingency.”
Morley was aware she was avoiding the subject of Lady Alyx and a more permanent solution to rid them of the young woman. That worried him. He could only hope it didn’t come to that.
“I cannot imagine that sending Lance to London is Torston’s one and only plan to rid himself of this betrothal,” Morley said. “He is cunning and intelligent. Do not underestimate him.”
Antonia eyed him, displeased but not particularly surprised. Years of preparation for this very possibility had toughened her to the moment of truth. “We hold his son,” she said simply. “He will not wish to see the child killed, but I will keep the lad hostage until Torston takes his vows with Lilia. If Torston seeks to further his pursuit of ending this contract, then I will have to make that plain to him.”
Morley could see where this was heading. Antonia was preparing her arsenal of blackmail to ensure Torston followed through with the marriage. He wasn’t looking forward to that event because it was going to turn an unexpected arrival of Lady Lilia into a life or death struggle.
Nay, he wasn’t looking forward to that at all.
“Then let us hope it does not come to that but we must be prepared,” he said, putting a weary hand on his head. “But I do not wish to discuss this any longer. Today has already been a day of great tragedy and stress, and I am at my wit’s end.”
“What do you mean?”
Morley seemed to falter, sweat peppering his brow. “Lord Harringham… he is not well, not in the least. And Lord Winslow passed away last night, very suddenly. It has been chaotic, I tell you. You cannot imagine what Winslow de Ameland’s passing means to the security of the border.”
“That does not concern me,” Antonia snapped. “The only thing you should be concerned with is ensuring Torston de Royans marries Lilia and marries her soon. I must meet with the man today and demand he set a wedding date.”
Morley was in no mood for an extended confrontation. He had been up to his ears in turmoil since dawn and, still, he was reeling.
“You must understand that in the grand scheme of things here at The Lyceum, Torston’s wedding is not a priority.” He paused, wiping his brow. “In fact, I do not know if this is wise any longer, Antonia. I fear that your truth will eventually be discovered.”
Antonia lifted a black eyebrow. “My truth?” She laughed bitterly. “You are involved as deeply as I am, Morley. ’Twill be your head if Torston discovers you have betrayed him.”
Morley’s flabby jaw twitched. “Mayhap. But not before I beg his forgiveness for this foolishness. If he is feeling particularly merciful, mayhap he will spare me. One can only hope.”
“You sent his bastard to us nine years ago. You knew well what you were doing.”
Morley’s distress increased. “I cannot take back what I have done. I am starting to regret it with each passing day.”
Antonia smiled thinly. “You regret that your original plans were thwarted, ’tis all. And the fact that I am now in control of the situation.”
The majordomo turned away, fighting off the mounting emotions. “I was never in control. Not even from the outset.”
Antonia followed him, relishing the fact that, slowly, the man was losing his composure. It excited her. “The outset of your foolish little scheme or the outset of your entire life?”
Morley cast her a heady glare, wandering away from her, aimlessly, in search of wine or a chair or anything to support his faltering control. “You know the answer.”
Antonia’s smile broadened. “Indeed I do. But I want to hear it from you.”
“Nay.”
“Tell me!”
He hissed. “Why should I? You already know of my mother’s….” He stopped himself from finishing, clamping his lips tight.
But Antonia’s eyes glittered knowingly. “Yes, of course. Your mother.” She attempted to look him in the eye but he avoided her. “Your mother was my father’s second wife. She is not my mother. Tell me of your mother, Morley.”
“Nay!”
“Tell me that she is the one who has had control over your life, always.”
“I’ll not tell you anything!”
“Tell me now!”
Morley’s wandering came to a halt against a rough stone wall. He put his hands on it, wishing it would vanish so he could continue to move away from the black-haired, evil-eyed woman. He closed his eyes when he realized the wall would permanently detain him, his forehead scraping against the stone as the words came tumbling forth.
“My mother… had plans for me,” he mumbled. “She always had plans for me.”
“Plans for wealth and prestige.”
Morley nodded.
“Confess all to me, little brother.”
He kept his eyes shut, his face pressed against the stone cold as he recalled events he would as just as soon forget. But Antonia’s harassment had succeeded in shattering his self-control and more words came before he could stop them.
“It was she who sent me to London in search of a wealthy lover,” he muttered. “I found Lord Harringham instead.”
“And?”
Shaken, Morley sighed. “He brought me to The Lyceum. I sent for Mother and she lived with me here, briefly, hoping to be amply provided for.” An ironic smile creased his lips. “But it was not to be.”
Antonia leaned against the wall next to him, her hot breath against his ear like the caress of the devil. “Continue,” she breathed. “I would hear all of it.”
Morley blinked slowly, remembering. He simply didn’t have the emotional strength to resist her. “It was Mother’s idea,” he murmured. “She wanted me to lay claim to Harringham’s wealth. But Great Caesar was uninterested in me as a lover, making me his majordomo instead. And then… then there was Torston.”
“What of him?”
There was a pause. “I fell in love with him.” Morley glanced at her, the sorrow and shame in his eyes evident. “Lord, I was so foolish. I should have known… he didn’t want me. I knew he didn’t want me from the start.”
“He rejected you.”
“Aye. With horror, I might add.”
“So you took revenge by sending his bastard child to me, hoping I would help you seek revenge against him for rejecting you.”
Morley shook his head, weakly. “I… I never meant to. It was all Mother’s scheme, truly. She’s the one who suggested it. But… but I saw a certain satisfaction to it as well, I will admit.”
Antonia took pity on him as he struggled with his story, but purely for her own selfish reasons. Morley had been resistant as of late, difficult to control, and she knew this was her opportunity to exercise her control over him once and for all. She knew his story, very well in fact, and she’d known it for years, ever since he sent Torston’s bastard to the House of de Weese for safekeeping. That’s when the conspiracy started, but it was far more than blackmailing a knight for his family’s wealth. Crossing her arms, Antonia moved away from the wall, her gown swishing softly against the floor.
“You knew that I had a daughter who would be in need of a husband someday,” she said. “Your mother suggested to use the child to blackmail the House of de Royans, and that is exactly what we will do if he does not cooperate. We’re all after the same thing, Morley – money. Survival.”
Morley’s jaw clenched, sickened, as he pushed himself up from the wall, weaving unsteadily. “But you took it a step further,” he said. “You kept my mother locked away to ensure that I would not tell Torston of the scheme. You took the child, agreed to use him, and then turned
around and blackmailed me to keep me silent. She was your stepmother, for God’s sake.”
“She was nothing to me.”
It was a cold, but true, statement. Antonia had never liked Morley’s mother and had always viewed her as a usurper to her dead mother’s household. The great irony was that Morley’s conniving mother had been out-connived by her hateful stepdaughter.
There was some poetic justice in that.
“Before she died, Mother told me that the House of de Weese, your husband’s family, was nothing but poverty-stricken nobles eager for the opportunity to regain their wealth through an arranged marriage,” he said with some contempt. “Do not forget that she was there when your Lilia died as a child. With no bride, there would be no marriage.”
Antonia was smug. “But that is why we hold Torston’s son. Even if he is to discover that his bride died long ago, thus nullifying the contract, his son should ensure the marriage regardless.”
“What makes you think he’ll care what happens to the bastard child he sent away?”
Antonia smiled thinly. “All men are concerned with their sons, legitimate or no. I would wager on the fact that Sir Torston will not allow his son to be harmed.”
Morley sighed heavily. “A well-planned scheme, Lady de Weese,” he said. “A very solid scheme.”
Antonia’s expression tensed as her proper name was used. “I am the Lady Antonia, Lady Lilia’s nurse. You must never address me otherwise.”
Morley shook his head. The day had gone from bad to worse and this conversation was the final blow. He was so emotionally spent that it was difficult to think clearly.
“I don’t know if I can continue this any longer,” he muttered. “Surely the guilt will kill me if Torston does not.”
“You have no choice.”
“But the consequences…”
“You should have thought of that before you sent Master Ryston de Royans into my care.”
Slowly, Morley shook his head. She was right and they both knew it. “I am not a criminal.”
The Centurion Page 24
