by Jody Hedlund
“No,” I whispered harshly. Father only wanted to save Charles. He wasn’t planning to use the Holy Chalice for his own profit. And he was only calling upon me to do my duty to the family and to help save Charles.
Surely Father wouldn’t ask me to search for the chalice if doing so would put me into grave danger. Likely I’d be able to locate the holy relic quickly and get word to him easily enough. Then he’d come and figure out a way to free Izzy and me.
In the meantime, I would remain Lord Pitt’s unwilling prisoner.
Chapter
7
I bowed my head to Lord Pitt. In his center position at the head table, he was chewing upon a leg of mutton, the juice running down into his graying beard. Around him sat several of the king’s advisors. The rest of the great hall was empty except for a separate table with Pitt’s wife, Lady Glynnis, and her ladies.
With the retinue of knights and attendants having just returned, we would have to eat later after we unloaded the goods, took care of our mounts, and washed away the past two weeks of dust and grime.
“Windsor,” Pitt said between bites. “I hear you have succeeded once again.”
“Yes, my lord.” I rose to my full height and met Pitt’s gaze head-on. He was the only one who called me by my family name. Although he’d conceded to my desire not to reveal my identity as Baron of Hampton, he refused to address me by a simple knight’s title as everyone else did.
He was a stern man, his countenance granite. The long scar that ran from his left eye to his chin gave him a dangerous aura. But I’d learned in working for him that while he was hard and rough, he was also fair and just. He dared to do things none other in the realm would try, and because of that had won the favor of the king.
“Do you know who attacked you earlier?” Pitt asked before ripping another hunk of meat from the bone.
“No, my lord. Although I suspect it was the earl’s men.” I had no proof, except that our attackers had been no ordinary bandits. They’d been too skilled with their weapons and too prepared to fight. Strangely, they hadn’t attempted to steal anything and only engaged us in hand-to-hand combat for a short time before retreating.
If the earl had sent them, perhaps they’d discovered they were too outnumbered to manage to free the earl’s daughters. Or perhaps their surprise attack hadn’t worked the way they’d hoped.
Whatever the case, we pursued them in the woods a few dozen yards before I called my men to halt. We had no reason to seek them out further since they’d taken nothing. I hadn’t wanted to waste any more time in a futile chase when we were so close to Tolleymuth, Pitt’s primary residence.
Besides, I’d been concerned I would have to chase down Lady Olivia. I expected that once she realized she was no longer being monitored, she’d use the opportunity to ride off with her sister. I even wondered if that was the purpose of the attack in the first place, to draw us away and give Olivia a chance to escape.
When I returned a short while later, I was surprised to discover Olivia and Isabelle were still with Sir Darien. After sparring with her in combat, I knew she was a skilled fighter who would have no trouble overcoming an injured man. But the ladies had assisted him to one of the wagon beds, and Olivia had been in the process of cleaning his head wound.
She only lifted her chin higher when I told her I hadn’t expected her to be there and said, “You would have recaptured us, would you not?”
I was an excellent tracker, and indeed, I would have found her again. But the possibility of recapture hadn’t stopped her from attempting to escape before. There was more to her staying than she was disclosing, but I figured I’d learn the true reason soon enough.
“Bring me the earl’s daughters,” Pitt said between bites. “I want to see for myself what kind of prisoners I have.”
I nodded. I’d known Pitt would want to see the women. He’d likely heard rumors regarding Olivia’s beauty and desired to see for himself what kind of woman she really was.
As I exited the great hall, I was relieved to find Olivia and Isabelle sitting on the bench where I’d left them. Sir Darien stood guard on one side and Sir Perceval on the other. The presence of two guards wouldn’t have stopped Olivia from fighting her way free if she’d really wanted to. Why was she behaving now after she’d given me so much trouble earlier?
“My ladies,” I said with a bow. “Lord Pitt desires an audience with you.”
Olivia stood and smoothed a loose strand of her hair back under the veil that she’d donned upon our arrival. I could see that she’d done her best to dislodge the dust and grime of travel. Even so, a twinge of guilt needled me that I hadn’t allowed her and Isabelle to change their garments before meeting Pitt and his wife.
Of course, Olivia was as stunning as usual, with her red hair in stark contrast to her creamy skin and her beautiful green eyes, which never seemed to miss a single detail of her surroundings.
As she approached me, I couldn’t stop from thinking of earlier today when she’d ridden with me, how she’d relaxed against me and we’d been able to talk freely. I’d never spoken to any woman with such ease, not even Giselle.
At times during the journey, I’d even forgotten Olivia was supposed to be my prisoner, especially when I brushed against her. The lushness of her hair and the smooth curves of her shoulders and arms and waist had beckoned to me, awakening me to a woman’s presence in a way I hadn’t noticed since Giselle’s death.
Part of me was beset with guilt even though Giselle had been gone for two years. Such attention to another woman felt like betrayal to the woman I’d once loved. But another part of me welcomed the rebirth of feelings toward the fairer sex. Perhaps it meant I was finally putting my past behind me.
“What does Lord Pitt plan to do with us?” Olivia asked.
I didn’t exactly know, but I suspected he would be decent so long as Olivia didn’t threaten him. “Lord Pitt is a hard man,” I warned. “But if you do all that he asks, he will treat you fairly.”
Olivia studied my face with her usual sharpness. “What will keep him from locking us into the dungeons?’
I sincerely hoped Pitt wouldn’t resort to such measures. Of course, he’d shown no mercy to any of the men we’d captured over the past year and had locked them away until their families paid the required ransom. “If you respect and obey Lord Pitt, he will likely allow you to attend to his wife.”
Olivia’s eyes flashed with displeasure before she could hide it. I had no doubt she was familiar with the practice of ladies serving those above them. As an earl’s daughter, Olivia deserved to have Lady Glynnis attend her, not the other way around.
“You must remain docile, Lady Olivia,” I urged. Olivia must understand from the start that if she hoped to survive her captivity, she needed to submit to Pitt’s wishes. Or he would destroy her.
I had only to picture my brother’s wife, Lady Sabine, in the metal cage suspended in the tree to remember just how brutal Pitt could be when provoked. Pitt had accused Sabine of being a witch and almost burned her at the stake. He likely would have killed her, except that Bennet and I attacked his encampment and freed her.
“If you cross Lord Pitt,” I said, “I cannot guarantee your safety or Isabelle’s.”
Olivia glanced at her sister who’d also arisen. Isabelle was decidedly more travel weary, her gown disheveled, her hair in need of grooming. Worry rippled over Olivia’s lovely features before she forced cool impassivity into her expression.
“You may take me to your master,” Olivia announced.
I hesitated, suddenly wishing I could whisk the two sisters away someplace safe, away from Pitt, away from their father, away from the political intrigue that held them captive. But I was the one responsible for bringing them here. And now that I’d done the deed, I would have to ensure that no harm befell them.
Fighting the heaviness in my heart, I led the women into the great hall, down the long center aisle to the head table where Pitt was washing his greasy fingers in a
silver ewer a servant held out to him.
“My lord,” I said, “I present the Earl of Ulster’s daughters, Lady Olivia and Lady Isabelle.”
Both curtsied prettily before Pitt.
As Olivia rose, I caught sight of the disdain on her face before she could mask it. From the narrowing of Pitt’s eyes, I guessed he’d seen it as well.
The women at the adjacent table had ceased their discourse and were watching the prisoners with interest. Lady Glynnis was a hefty, large-boned woman with a round face. Her eyes and nose and mouth were small amidst the mounds of her flesh. As if to make up for her lack of natural beauty, she adorned herself in the most ostentatious of costumes, elaborate headdresses, voluminous jewelry, and lavish gowns.
I’d noted at other times and heard rumors among the married knights, that Lady Glynnis was easily provoked by any woman she deemed prettier than herself. Perhaps it was for the best that Olivia and Isabelle hadn’t had time to refresh themselves. Hence forward, I would need to warn them to dress plainly and try not to attract undue attention.
“Lady Olivia.” Pitt wiped his hands on the towel his servant provided. He deliberately dried each finger slowly before raising the towel to his mouth and beard and wiping away the remains of his meal, all without taking his hard gaze from Olivia. “I bid you and your sister welcome to Tolleymuth.”
Olivia’s shoulders were rigid with defiance. I silently willed her to refrain from retorting with something rude. I wasn’t sure why I cared so much that she behave. I’d already warned her. If she chose to ignore my admonitions, that was her fault. She’d get what she deserved.
But did she truly deserve this? Any of it?
I banished the question and forced myself to remain alert.
“Lord Pitt,” Olivia said in her usual direct tone. “We both know that my welcome here is contingent upon my father. But I do thank you for the kindness your men have shown to me and my sister during our ordeal. I commend them for the honorable way they have treated us. It speaks well of you and the manner in which you run your household.”
Olivia’s response surprised me. And from the widening of Pitt’s eyes, I could tell it had surprised him as well.
He regarded her a moment before answering, as though testing the sincerity of her words. “I do not deserve the praise you bestow upon me, Lady Olivia. Any gratitude for kindness must be given to my captain, for he is a man of honor.”
Pitt nodded in my direction, but Lady Olivia kept her attention focused on him.
“Windsor,” he said, “is the finest man I know. But I am not so fine. Rather I am . . .”
Ruthless. Determined. Dangerous. I silently filled in the blank. Pitt wasn’t someone I wished to face on the battlefield again. However, after my time in his servitude, I’d learned he was also reasonable and ultimately sought to do what was right, even if his methods at times were harsh.
“I’m interested in ensuring the king’s well-being,” he continued with a glance at the king’s advisors who were watching the proceedings with obvious interest. “I try to do what is necessary for the greater good of the kingdom.”
“I respect your loyalty to the king, my lord,” she replied. “Hopefully you will respect mine to my family.”
Pitt remained silent for a long moment. The clanging of pots and the voices of servants in the kitchen wafted into the room. Finally, Pitt picked up the goblet that remained on the table before him, took several gulps. “I can see that you are a strong woman. And although I should lock you up, I shall give you the chance to serve my wife.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She bowed her head.
“It will not go well for you if you make me regret my decision.” His words rang with ominous warning.
Olivia nodded but didn’t meet his gaze.
I should feel pleased by the outcome of the meeting, for it meant Olivia and her sister would live in relative comfort during their stay at Tolleymuth.
But I felt only trepidation as if somehow Pitt and I had been sucked into a scheme that we knew nothing about. I could only pray Olivia would heed my advice and remain meek and cooperative during her stay. Otherwise, I didn’t know if I’d be able to save her from Pitt’s wrath.
“And you should also know,” Pitt added, “my scribe has written to your father letting him know he has one month starting from today to pay the ransom and sign a letter declaring his loyalty to the king. After that, I will punish him even further.”
From the sharp edge of Pitt’s tone, I knew he’d do whatever he needed in order to bring the earl into submission. One month wasn’t long, but the earl should have no trouble accumulating the amount he owed Pitt. The question was whether he’d be willing to pledge himself to the king and cease his plotting with other Marcher lords. Did he care enough for his daughters and their freedom to give up his rebellious ways? Or would he sacrifice them for his own selfish desires?
I prayed for Olivia and Isabelle’s sakes that their father was as devoted as Olivia believed.
Chapter
8
I peered down the long hallway both ways to make sure I was unnoticed before I slid into the chapel and closed the door behind me.
After a week at Tolleymuth as a servant to Lord Pitt’s wife, I wasn’t sure I had the patience to go another hour, much less another day or week. Lady Glynnis had been jealous and petty and demeaning all week, finding fault with everything I did.
Her demanding schedule made searching for the Holy Chalice nearly impossible. She woke us all well before dawn to pray with her. Then after breaking our fast with plain porridge and hot milk, we prayed again in the chapel.
Finally, when we returned to the great hall, Lady Glynnis would gather us all into a sunny corner where we would sit on stools and embroider for hours. Mostly we worked on new gowns for Lady Glynnis, sewing colorful stitches and tiny seed pearls in embroidered flowers along the hem, on sleeves, and at the front of skirts.
As a young girl, I’d only learned the most basic stitches, having spent most of my time practicing sword drills and fighting maneuvers with Cecil. Thus my needlework was of poor quality, and Lady Glynnis took pleasure in using her silver scissors to rip out sections of my needlework and tasking me to do it over.
“Only the best,” she’d say as she cut the uneven threads and sent the pearls cascading in all directions over the floor. “The stitches must be flawless.”
A time or two, I’d almost thrown the fabric into Lady Glynnis’s face and stomped away. But a glance at Isabelle sewing contentedly with the other ladies had stopped my rashness. With the sunshine turning Isabelle’s hair into spun gold and highlighting the healthy pink in her cheeks, I’d shoved aside my frustrations and quelled my anger.
Lord Pitt’s warning was never far from my mind. It will not go well for you if you make me regret my decision. I’d sensed he wasn’t a man of idle threats, that he planned to follow through on everything he’d spoken. He would punish me if I defied him. And he would punish me if Father didn’t negotiate with him by the end of the month.
The problem was that Father wouldn’t do anything until I brought him the Holy Chalice. But how could I search for the ancient relic when Lady Glynnis kept me busy at every hour of the day?
Even now as I breathed in the spicy waft of incense that permeated the chapel, I knew Lady Glynnis would begin to wonder where I was and why I was taking so long to relieve myself.
I strode to the front of the chapel, to the altar. The priest often provided the Eucharist from supplies stored within the altar. Perhaps he’d placed the Holy Chalice with the other elements used for distributing the Lord’s Supper.
The embroidered linen that graced the altar draped over the back, concealing the open shelves. I glanced at the chapel door, then bent to investigate, pushing aside the covering and taking in the assortment of wine bottles, cups, and platters. There were rosaries and crucifixes and more embroidered linens. But there was no Holy Chalice—which I knew to be distinct from others by its simplicity
and the engraving of a lamb at its center.
At the click of the door and the movement of the handle, I rounded the altar and bounded toward the closest prayer cushion. The door swung wide before I could fall to a kneeling position.
Sir Aldric. Upon seeing him, I ceased my frantic pretense. Dressed as usual in his chain mail hauberk, he made a forbidding picture filling the doorway with his broad shoulders, bulky arms, and hand upon the hilt of his sword at his belt.
Since our arrival to Tolleymuth and his warnings to me before I’d met Lord Pitt, we hadn’t conversed again. I’d seen him at a distance, usually at meal times. While I sat with Lady Glynnis at the women’s table, he ate several tables away with the other knights of his rank. But he never even so much as glanced my way, not even in passing.
Though he conversed with the men around him, he was never talkative or loud, never purposefully attracting attention, always modest and humble.
Yet, his presence in the great hall was commanding, and he drew the attention of the few unmarried women at my table. With his rugged good looks, dark hair and eyes, and the strength of his bearing, he was easily the handsomest man there. The maidens boldly watched him and coyly flirted. I was secretly pleased he paid them no heed and seemed oblivious to their charm.
A time or two, I willed him to glance at me, to acknowledge my presence, to remember the brief closeness we’d shared during the ride here. But perhaps the proximity during our travels hadn’t affected him the same way it had me.
Besides, I told myself, he wasn’t my concern. He was a servant of Lord Pitt sent to do a job. With the task completed, he was free of any obligation to me.
Now, as he stood in the chapel doorway, his presence was overpowering as usual. He radiated strength and purpose. And of course, he was still handsome with strands of his windblown hair loose from the leather strip, his jaw shadowed with unshaven stubble, and his dark eyes framed by long lashes.
