by Alexa Aston
“What do you want?” she asked warily.
He lit a candle and came closer to her. She placed his age at a few years shy of two score. His scraggly hair fell into his uncovered eye, which stared at her in hate.
“What do I want?” he growled. “I want my life back, Lady Rosalyne.”
So he knew her. This had been no random robbery.
“Are you from Canterbury?” she asked, hoping to discover who this man was and why he had taken her.
“Am I from Canterbury?” He laughed harshly then glared at her. “I used to own Canterbury,” he roared.
Without being told, Rosalyne guessed who the stranger before her was.
“You are Perceval Rawlin.”
Astonishment crossed his face. “You know me?”
“I know of you. That you worked for Lord Botulf on the reconstruction of the wall surrounding the city. That you cheated the Crown, keeping ill-gotten gains for yourself and awarding half to Lord Botulf.”
He crossed his arms over his thick chest. “And what if I did? I came from nothing and had to fight for everything I got.”
“Whether you earned it or not.”
He slapped her.
Rosalyne felt the sting of his hand printed against her face.
“I had to be cunning,” he said. “I wanted to keep it all for myself, but Lord Botulf was too wily. When he discovered what I did, he demanded that I keep doing it—only if he could share in the enormous profits.”
Rawlin rubbed his chin. “And then I lost everything, thanks to your husband.”
Fear knotted in her belly. “Taking me is about revenge?” she asked.
“What do you think?” he asked. Slowly, he unwound the cloth from his head. Dropping the fabric to the floor, he raised his head and stared at her.
She gasped.
As Rosalyne suspected, he was missing one eye. The side of his face was still raw, with angry new scars laced into it.
“Why didn’t Sir Edward come to me first?” Rawlin mused. “But he didn’t. He and Botulf cut a deal between them, dooming me.”
“You make it sound personal. Edward represented the king. He arranged for Lord Botulf to pay for ten years of the wall’s construction from his own funds. If the nobleman took out his anger on you, it wasn’t at my husband’s request.”
His face came within inches of hers, his breath hot and fetid. “Lord Botulf tortured me,” Rawlin ground out. “By the end, he knew where every pence I had lay. He took my home. My furnishings. My lands. My gold. I was left with nothing but a ruined reputation.”
Rawlin stroked his chin again. “He took my eye. Ripped it from its socket. Shoved a poker into the hole. But that wasn’t enough for the rich bastard, to steal from me. While I screamed, he watched his men cut off my very manhood. Then his soldiers dragged me outside the city gates and left me to die.”
Rosalyne thought she might be sick. Though this man had done an immense wrong, he should have been imprisoned for his crimes, not cruelly tortured and maimed. And she guessed the money Lord Botulf took would be what paid for all of the construction, keeping his own funds intact.
An evil smile turned the corners of Rawlin’s mouth upward. “Before he ordered me from his sight, Botulf assured me none of it would have happened if he hadn’t needed everything I owned to pay for the wall. He named Edward de Montfort as the cause, Lady Rosalyne, and told me if I wanted to hurt Sir Edward as I had been hurt, the best way to do it was through you.”
Chapter 23
Edward steered Sirius through the streets, his heart light as he returned to Sir Harry’s home. He would stable the horse tonight at Harry’s and take Rosalyne to the Palace of Westminster tomorrow. She had shown him her progress last night, so he knew they would be able to deliver the royal portrait tomorrow as requested.
And then start their new life away from court.
The only regret he had would be leaving Hal behind. His brother had been a constant in Edward’s life since his birth. They had spent almost every day together, from playing as children through years of fostering and then fighting.
Now Rosalyne would be his other half, instead of Hal. Edward looked forward to the life they would share. The children they would raise. The many nights of love play. Rosalyne already was the center of his universe. He could not imagine life without her.
As he drew closer to Sir Harry’s house, he suspected he would find his parents had arrived. Edward had written them to announce his marriage to Rosalyne and tell them something about her before they met. He also wanted his mother to know Templeton Parry would accompany them to Kinwick and had described Temp’s problems as best he could so that his mother might be able to prepare a mixture of herbs that might help give the older man some relief.
A messenger from Kinwick let Edward know that Lord Geoffrey would send a guard to escort them home. Knowing his parents, they would accompany the knights who came to London to see them safely to their destination.
Riding through the gates, he immediately headed for the stables and dismounted. Once inside, he searched for an empty stall to place Sirius in. Many were full, with a few horses he recognized, so Edward knew the Kinwick contingent had already arrived.
As expected, he rounded a corner and caught sight of Sir Hammond, who had served the de Montforts for many years and was a master swordsman.
“Greetings, Hammond.”
“Edward!” the knight called out as he closed a stall door and approached him.
Edward dropped his horse’s reins and the two men clapped each other on the back, happy to see one another.
“So, you are a married man now. You’re a crafty one, marrying on the sly and denying Lady Merryn a wedding to plan. But I guarantee you will have a great feast upon your return. Your mother has already started the preparations.”
“Rosalyne will appreciate her efforts. She is excited about coming to live at Kinwick. My wife is truly an amazing woman. So much that I think Mother will grow to like Rosalyne more than me.”
Hammond chuckled. “I hear your bride is an artist.”
“Aye,” Edward said with pride. “She recently completed a triptych for a chapel inside Canterbury Cathedral and has now painted the king and queen’s portraits, as well.”
“An artist who paints portraits? And you a mere knight?” Hammond laughed. “Lady Merryn will definitely favor your bride over you.” He punched Edward playfully in the arm.
“By any chance, did my parents join the escort party?”
Hammond’s brows rose. “You even think to ask that? Of course, they came to London. In fact, you need to go see them now.” Hammond reached for Sirius’ reins. “Here, I’ll care for your spoiled horse.” He rubbed Sirius between his ears. “’Tis good to see you again, Edward.”
“I feel the same, Hammond.”
Edward left the stables and entered Sir Harry’s house. Hearing voices in the room to his right, he headed toward them. When he entered, his mother rose and held out her arms. Edward went straight to her, embracing first her and then his father.
Merryn de Montfort studied him. “You have matured since we last saw you, my son. I worried about you being at the palace but I believe the time away from Kinwick did you some good.”
“Of course, it did,” Geoffrey de Montfort declared, “for it led our son to Lady Rosalyne. And love.”
“And love,” Edward echoed.
“We feel we already know your bride.” His mother indicated Sir Harry and Temp. “These two have sung her praises ever since we arrived.” She paused. “I hope Rosalyne will allow us to view her work on the king’s portrait before you take it to him tomorrow.”
“I think she will,” Edward replied and frowned. “I thought she would already be back by the time I arrived.”
“I explained to your parents how she and Benedict walk together every day,” Temp said. “They also know something of Rosalyne’s history and why Benedict wishes to know her.”
“Bowyar has asked us to visit him
at Shallowheart,” Edward said.
“I think seeing where Rosalyne came from will be important to her,” his mother said.
“Once you are settled in at Kinwick and Rosalyne is comfortable, you should take her to visit her former home,” his father interjected. “It’s not far from Kinwick, so you wouldn’t be on the road for long.”
“I will,” Edward promised.
A sudden commotion in the hall halted their conversation. A man shouted “Rosalyne” several times and then burst into the room.
Edward took in Benedict Bowyar’s frantic look and disheveled appearance. He grasped the nobleman by his shoulders and demanded, “Where is Rosalyne?”
Bowyar’s eyes clouded with tears. “I lost her. We stopped at the market for me to purchase pike for our dinner tonight. Rosalyne stepped away to a nearby booth to peruse the spices. She wanted to bring some to Lady Merryn as a gift.” He looked at Edward with anguished eyes. “One moment, she was there. The next, she had vanished.”
Running fingers through his graying hair, Bowyar added, “I have looked for her everywhere but she is nowhere to be found. I fear someone has spirited her away.” His shoulders slumped.
“We’ll send men out to find her,” Edward assured him, fighting his rising panic.
Sir Harry spoke up. “My soldiers know what Lady Rosalyne looks like.”
“Then we can pair one of your men with one from Kinwick,” Edward suggested. “Send them out in different directions in order to cover more ground.”
“I’ll see to it,” his father said.
“Let me go with you, Lord Geoffrey,” Sir Harry offered.
The two men hurried from the room.
Benedict looked to Temp. “Will you search for our niece with me?” he asked, his voice breaking.
Temp nodded and they also removed themselves from the room.
That left Edward alone with his mother. He saw the concern in her eyes but also the core of steel which ran through her. While Geoffrey de Montfort was known as having been one of the best knights of the realm, in truth, it was Merryn de Montfort who was made of even stronger stuff.
“Stay,” she told him. “When Rosalyne arrives, she will need you to be here.”
Edward noted she said when and not if.
“I warned her of cutpurses,” he began, “but the thought of her being taken off the streets never crossed my mind since she was always with me or Bowyar.”
She led him to a chair and sat next to him. “Have you made any enemies at court, Edward?”
The thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Why? Do you think someone has deliberately abducted Rosalyne to get back at me?”
Merryn waited a long moment before answering. “It’s possible. I have seen it. Been a part of it.”
Edward knew something had occurred in the distant past that his parents never spoke of. His cousin Elysande’s husband, Michael, hinted at it once long ago. Edward remembered Michael saying something about how he was eager to serve Lord Geoffrey once he heard Geoffrey had returned to Kinwick. The room grew quiet and then conversation had broken out among several small groups. Edward had been young at the time—but old enough to know that something unmentionable was being covered up.
Though he had wondered about it occasionally over the years, he’d never discussed it with anyone. Not even Hal, whom he shared all his thoughts with.
His mother reached for his hand and gripped it tightly. “Long ago, your father did something to anger a powerful earl,” she explained. “This nobleman waited until Geoffrey and I married and then had him abducted the day after we spoke our vows.”
Shock reverberated through Edward. How had this been kept a secret?
“How long was Father gone?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer.
She closed her eyes. “Almost seven years.” The words came out barely above a whisper.
Edward sat, stunned. Then it began to make sense to him. Alys and Ancel were seven years older than Hal. There had only been two years between him and Hal and three between him and his younger sister, Nan. The reason no children came during the large gap of time was because his parents spent all those years separated.
“How? Why?”
She opened her eyes. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said quickly. “Those years were ones of suffering for both of us. What is important is that we are now together again, our love stronger because of what we went through. But ’twas a wicked man who sought revenge on your father and knew the best way to hurt him was by keeping us apart. When Geoffrey disappeared, I was distraught. I knew not if he was alive or dead until he finally appeared again at Kinwick.”
Edward had dozens of questions he wished she would answer but he chose to respect her privacy. Instead, he asked, “And you think something similar occurs now?”
Merryn nodded. “If it were a mere cutpurse, he would have taken any valuable Rosalyne had. He would not have taken her.”
“I agree.” Edward racked his brain. “I have not grown close to anyone at court since I have been here, much less angered anyone. You know me, Mother. I keep to myself and perform my duties as asked. I’ve caused no problems between anyone in the guard. I rarely speak to any courtiers. I have not been involved with the ladies, as Hal has. But …” His voice trailed off.
“What?”
“In Canterbury. I recently returned from there.”
She thought a moment. “You found problems there?”
“Aye. The king sent me to observe construction on the wall since it is a long-running project and he and his advisers thought the costs seemed too high. I discovered the Crown losing vast sums of money, being cheated by the nobleman Richard placed in charge. It was carried out by a man named Perceval Rawlin that Lord Botulf hired to oversee the work.”
“What was the outcome?” she asked.
“Lord Botulf asked to handle Rawlin himself. I returned to Canterbury after informing the king of the situation, bringing with me several advisers from the royal treasury. Botulf agreed to personally fund every aspect of the wall for the next dozen years and signed the papers affirming his commitment.”
Her eyes widened. “That is quite a costly undertaking. ’Twould give him good reason to lash out at you.”
“I need to find out if Lord Botulf is in London,” Edward said, determined to find the nobleman. “Or go to Canterbury and see if he is there.”
And hopefully find Rosalyne, as well.
His father and Sir Harry reentered the room. Edward quickly explained to them the possibility that Lord Botulf might have had something to do with Rosalyne’s disappearance. He caught the quick glance between his parents. His gut tightened. He could only pray the punishing years apart they went through would not be repeated between him and Rosalyne.
“Traveling to Canterbury would take precious time,” Geoffrey pointed out. “And even if this Lord Botulf is there and you confront him, he could simply deny any involvement in Rosalyne’s abduction. Stay in London,” his father urged. “You are more valuable here. If you wish, I can send Hammond to Canterbury. He is outside Sir Harry’s house, guarding us and keeping a watchful eye as we speak. I know you trust him.”
Edward was torn. He had no idea where to look for his wife. He couldn’t even say with any certainty that Lord Botulf was behind her disappearance.
“Let go of me!”
He glanced up and saw Hammond entering the room, dragging along a dirty young boy with one hand. In the other, Edward saw a scrap of parchment.
“Quit struggling, lad, or I will squash you like a bug,” threatened the knight as he crossed the room to Edward. “The boy tried to leave this note on Sir Harry’s doorstep and run away.” Hammond handed the parchment to Edward.
“Read it aloud,” Merryn encouraged.
Edward cleared his throat and prayed this note would give them a clue as to Rosalyne’s whereabouts.
If you value your wyfe, come alone—and unarmed—to Blethin Alley and the door marked with a red X.
; Edward knelt and waited until the boy met his eye. “I promise no harm will come to you. What is your name?”
After hesitating a long moment, the boy said, “Timothy.”
He glanced to his father. Geoffrey de Montfort nodded. Edward turned back to the too-thin child. “Timothy, do you have parents?” he asked.
A hard look appeared in the boy’s eyes, making him suddenly seem years older. “Nay,” he said, bitterness laced in the one word.
Edward wondered if the parents had died or worse—if they had abandoned Timothy to live on the streets.
“Would you like to have a home? And a place to work? There would always be plenty to eat and you would make friends.”
Timothy eyed him with suspicion. “Where? How?”
“’Tis my childhood home. Kinwick.” He pointed. “These are my parents, Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn de Montfort. They always need good, strong workers on our estate. Mayhap you would be interested in helping in the stables. Do you like horses?”
The boy nodded reluctantly. Edward saw the glimmer of hope wrestling with doubt in the child’s eyes.
“Help me, Timothy. Help us to find my wife. In return, you can come with us to Kinwick.”
Timothy’s lips trembled. “He gave me a pence to bring the parchment here.”
“Who?” Edward asked gently.
Timothy shook his head. “I know not, my lord. He shared half a meat pie with me and then offered me the coin if I would help him.”
“Can you describe this man?”
Nodding enthusiastically, Timothy said, “Aye, my lord. He’s a fat one. His legs bow out, so he walks funny. And he wraps a cloth about his head. It dips over his eye and hides part of his face.”
Edward rose, taming the anger that threatened to explode, so as not to frighten the boy. He would need Timothy’s help in finding Blethin Alley.
In finding Rosalyne.
“I know who has taken her,” Edward said. “Perceval Rawlin.”
Chapter 24
Rosalyne wished she hadn’t screamed for help. All it had done was land her a punch to the face and a filthy cloth tied around her mouth. Now, her eye and cheek ached and the sides of her mouth grew tender from the gag.
