His Lady Fair

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His Lady Fair Page 23

by Margo Maguire


  “She will be my wife,” Nicholas said firmly. He sat on the bed beside Maria and took her hand. “As soon as she is able to stand, the priest will be summoned and we will wed.”

  A throat cleared behind him. “Have I aught to say about it?”

  Nicholas did not leave his place at the edge of the bed. He turned slightly, to look into the duke’s startlingly amber eyes. The older man’s expression was grave, but Nicholas was determined that there was naught the duke could say or do to dissuade him from his course. “Nay, your grace,” he said. “She may be your daughter, but I believe the lady has been mine since the moment she set foot on Kirkham land.”

  “My daughter has had ample opportunity to choose you as her spouse, Kirkham,” Sterlyng said. “Yet she did not.”

  “You know her reasons for being angry with me,” Nicholas said. “’Tis only that—”

  “My daughter will have her choice of husband,” he said, walking ’round to the opposite side of the bed. “’Twas my promise to her, and I mean to keep it.”

  “You may rest assured that she will choose me,” Nick said. And he hoped his words were true.

  Alisia nursed her all through the day, moistening her lips with a wet cloth, wiping her brow when she became warm.

  Nicholas never left her side. He’d written to Sir Gyles, explaining the most recent turn of events, and set him the task of apprehending Henric Tournay. Beyond that, he had not given Tournay another thought. His attention was fixed on Maria.

  He would not leave her again. He paced, he sat, he even dozed once or twice. A servant was sent to bring him fresh clothes, and he even took a few moments to bathe.

  His mind was overcrowded with thoughts of the future, with Maria as his wife. There were improvements to be made to Castle Kirkham. A nursery to furnish, servants to hire. Mattie Tailor’s daughter was the most competent midwife in the district, and Nicholas decided to move her and her mother into the castle while they awaited the birth. The child would be born in winter, and Nicholas would brook no delay in—

  “No!”

  Nicholas started at the sound of Maria’s frantic whisper, even though she remained unconscious. He took her hand again and leaned close. “Hush, love,” he said. “You’re safe now, open your eyes.”

  She did not open her eyes, but murmured unintelligibly. It seemed then that she moaned every time she was touched or was moved, and Nicholas took this as a good sign. Alisia said there was no further indication of miscarriage, so he felt assured that the babe rested peacefully again within its mother’s womb.

  If only she would awaken.

  Late in the afternoon, a footman knocked and was admitted to the chamber. “Lord Kirkham,” he said. “A gentleman awaits you downstairs.”

  Though he did not want to leave her, Nick pressed a kiss to Maria’s forehead and stood. Following the footman, he arrived in the duke’s study to find Sterlyng sitting at his desk, and Sir Gyles standing before him.

  “My lord,” Gyles said, giving a slight bow of respect.

  “Sir Gyles has much to report,” Sterlyng said.

  Nicholas looked to Gyles for an explanation, hoping for a quick one so that he could return to Maria’s chamber.

  “We seized the ship you described,” Gyles said. “And arrested all aboard.”

  “Good. And Tournay?”

  “Since we were certain they thought you’d been killed in the warehouse fire,” Gyles replied, “we assumed Tournay would be feeling safe and secure, his treachery undiscovered.”

  “But…?”

  “He was not on board the ship.”

  “By God!” Nicholas swore. “Where is he?”

  “Unknown, my lord,” Gyles said. “We have the rest of the crew at London Tower and they’re being questioned even as we speak. But at the moment, Tournay is at large.”

  “He cannot hope to insinuate himself at Westminster,” Sterlyng observed. “Not when everyone knows of his treason.”

  “But where is he?’

  “Several ships left the harbor during the fire,” Gyles said. “We do not yet know if all have returned. Mayhap he was on one of the others.”

  “Check on it.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “See if he left anything at his lodgings,” Nicholas said. “Anything of value that he’d return for.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Gyles repeated. “By the way…you never gave Tournay any reason to suspect you were working for Lord Bedford.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “Nay. I did not.”

  “Then he must have known this before securing a position in your employ. Your ruse must have become known to the French some time ago.”

  Nicholas had already considered this and knew that it was true. The French had to have known of his ploy before sending Tournay to him. His days of working covertly for Bedford were over.

  Nick had no regrets. He’d spent many years in the duke’s service, and though his work was nowhere near finished, he’d grown tired of acting the debauched nobleman. ’Twas time to move on. Maria and their child needed him.

  “That’s correct,” Nicholas said, finally replying to Gyles’s remark. “My usefulness to Lord Bedford, at least in this capacity, is finished.”

  “I must take my leave, your grace, my lord,” Sir Gyles said. “There is still much to do.”

  Sterlyng followed Gyles and saw him out, while Nicholas returned to Maria’s chamber. She was still unconscious, but more restless now.

  “Has she spoken?” he asked Alisia.

  “Nay. Just a few moans, like before.”

  Nicholas knelt next to the bed then and put his face level with Maria’s. He kissed her lips and lightly touched her hair.

  “Nicholas…” she breathed.

  Pain shot through Maria’s head like a red-hot poker touched to the nerves behind her eyes. She heard voices, but they sounded like echoes—distant and unclear. She moved her legs and tried to move her arms, but her shoulders hurt, and her legs felt as weak as sickroom broth.

  She could not imagine what was wrong with her. Why could she not open her eyes or move her body?

  One voice was particularly comforting. She was certain ’twas Nicholas, but she wanted him in the bed with her. She wanted naught more than for him to hold her in his arms, to keep her warm and safe.

  But it seemed that all he would do was hold her hand and touch his lips to hers. She tried to speak, to tell him to come closer, to lie with her, but the words did not come.

  She did not know if he would even want to. She’d been so awful to him when he’d come to her room. She’d told him to go away, that she’d chosen Rudney for her husband.

  What a fool she’d been.

  She understood now how Nicholas had been misled, how Tournay had assured him that her father was suspected of treason. It had been unfair for her to accuse him of using her. She should have been above believing all those rumors about him.

  She should have trusted him.

  Maria attempted to open her eyes, but the light hurt.

  “She awakens, your grace!” someone cried. Maria recognized Alisia’s quiet voice.

  “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Nicholas said.

  “Can you hear me, Maria?” It was her father’s voice.

  She felt confused. They all spoke at once, so Maria shut out every sound but that of Nicholas’s voice, his breath near her ear. She nearly wept with relief that he was actually here, that he hadn’t abandoned her because of their parting words.

  Suddenly, the events on the wharf returned in a flash of memory. She and Nicholas had nearly been trapped, yet they’d somehow gotten out of the fire. What had happened?

  She could not quite remember.

  The light hurt, but she squinted against it as Nicholas’s face came into view. “Your eye!” she whispered. She wanted to touch him, but her hand would not obey her command.

  She felt movement at the other side of the bed and shifted slightly to see that her father had sat down next to her. �
�You’re back with us again,” he said simply, though she could hear emotion thick in his voice.

  “Would you like a sip of water, Maria?” Alisia asked.

  Alisia fussed over her awhile. The duke touched her head and her hands, and spoke a few soothing words. Then suddenly, she was alone with Nicholas.

  Her father had said something like, “Have a care, Kirkham,” and then the door had closed behind him and he was gone.

  Maria did not bother to wonder at that, but curled into the warmth of Nicholas’s body when he lay next to her. She felt cold and hot at the same time, and her throat felt as if ’twas still on fire.

  Her eyes adjusted to the light, and the throbbing in her head subsided a little. She felt ever so much better when Nicholas wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

  “You saved my life, love,” he said quietly.

  Maria did not speak. There were so many half-truths, untruths and unspoken truths between them, she did not know where to begin.

  He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead.

  “How did you know I’d be on the docks?” he asked.

  “I didn’t,” she replied, basking in the warm security of his arms. “I followed Tournay there.”

  “Tournay? But how—?”

  “Tournay was here…in the house.”

  “What?” Nicholas demanded.

  “After you left me…” She felt the heat rise to her face when she thought of their encounter, and was glad she’d pressed her cheek to his chest so he could not see her embarrassment. “I was too restless to sleep. I went downstairs and saw Tournay rummaging through my father’s desk,” she said. “When he left, I followed him. Despite what you told me, I—I thought he was in your employ, doing your bidding. I was going to follow him to you, and confront you….”

  Nicholas did not speak, but Maria felt his breath catch. She’d hurt him with her distrust, and she wanted naught more than to make amends.

  “You told me someone was trying to convince you that my father was a traitor, but I did not believe you,” she said. She sniffed once and swallowed the lump in her throat. She was ashamed to have thought the worst of him. “But a-as I followed Tournay, I realized that you’d been truthful with me last night. I—I am so sorry, Nicholas, for not trusting you. I should ha—”

  “Hush,” he said. “’Tis over now, love. ’Twas difficult to know what to think. I cultivated that reputation. I intended that everyone believe the worst of me. Little did I know it would work so well.”

  “I’ve been so foolish.”

  “Nay, prudently cautious.”

  “Oh, Nicholas…” She sighed. A lock of his hair had fallen over his forehead and she reached up to push it back. “’Tis one of the things I love best about you—your understanding nature.”

  “I am not as understanding as you may think.”

  “Nay?”

  “What you risked in following Tournay…the thought of it terrifies me even now. I was so afraid I’d lose you,” he said, holding her close. “When I saw you standing beneath me in the warehouse, my heart dropped to my toes.”

  “It could not have been worse than when I saw Tournay hit you from behind.”

  “Ah, Maria…” He pulled back in order to see her face. Then he tipped her chin up with one finger and brushed his lips over hers. “We made a fine pair, don’t you think?”

  “Aye, Nicholas,” she said, fighting tears.

  “How is your head?” he asked. “Still hurt terribly?”

  “Mmm. A bit,” she replied. “But there is one thing you could do to help it.”

  “What would that be, my lady fair?”

  “Kiss me again.”

  He brushed his lips lightly over hers once again, but Maria wanted more. She took hold of the front of his tunic and pulled him close, touching her tongue to the corner of his mouth.

  He groaned and pulled away.

  “Maria, I promised your father I would behave.”

  “And you’re behaving exactly as I wish.”

  “I don’t think this is quite what he expected,” Nicholas said. “Besides, we have not settled things between us.”

  Maria lay back. ’Twas true. Naught was settled. She still had not told him of the babe.

  “My work for Bedford is finished,” he said. “’Tis no longer necessary for me to associate with the scoundrels and knaves who have been my companions these last few years.”

  “Why did you associate with them?”

  “To learn their secrets,” he replied. “And the secrets of anyone else who would underestimate me.”

  “Very clever, Nicholas,” Maria said. “Is that why you kept me from them at Kirkham? Because they were scoundrels?”

  “Aye. They—”

  “And what of the women you had there?”

  “I had no…Ah, you mean the one who stood outside my window with Lofton and Trendall the morning you left me?”

  Maria smiled deceptively. “Aye, Lord Nicky,” she said. “The one whose wares you apparently sampled just before you lured me into your bed.”

  Nicholas ran his hands up Maria’s arms. “I’ve sampled no one since I met you. My heart, my body and my mind have been tied in knots since the day you knocked me on my arse outside Kirkham. Put me out of my misery and become my wife, Maria.”

  She believed him, for she, too, had been confounded since meeting him that day. Maria bit her lip. She still hadn’t told him of their child, and he was likely to be very angry when he discovered she’d kept it from him, and that she’d planned to wed another man.

  There was naught to do but tell him now. “Nicholas…” she began. “There is something you must know.”

  He raised his head and propped his chin in his hand. He looked down at her. There was a mischievous light in his eyes that worried her. “I wondered if you’d ever get ’round to telling me.”

  “T-telling you?” she asked guiltily. “You know?”

  “Of the pregnancy?” he asked, drawing her close once again. “Aye. I know.”

  “How?”

  “There was some fear of miscarriage—”

  “Oh, no!” she cried in alarm. She covered her belly protectively with her hand. “Not our—”

  “Nay, sweetheart. Not now,” he said, kissing her forehead. “But when I first brought you home this morning, there was some light bleeding. Alisia assured your father and me that all is well now.”

  Relief flooded through Maria, even as embarrassment and chagrin took its place. “So, my father knows?”

  Nicholas smiled. “He does. ’Tis the only reason he’s left us alone…in your bedchamber.”

  “Nicholas—”

  “You’re not still planning to marry Rudney.”

  “Nay, Nicholas,” she whispered into his chest. “Only you.”

  “’Tis a very good thing, my love,” he said. “Rudney’s not a bad sort. I would hate to have to kill him.”

  “Nicholas,” she warned.

  “I am only teasing,” he said, then he turned serious again. “I care for you as I have no other, Maria. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

  “Oh, Nicholas,” she breathed. “’Twill be my greatest pleasure.”

  “There will be no more secrets between us,” he said, hugging her close.

  “Aye,” she answered sleepily. “Absolute honesty.”

  He kissed her tenderly and held her close until she fell into a natural sleep. Both she and the babe needed to rest.

  Nicholas slept, too, but awoke in the darkened room sometime during the night, his muscles cramped and sore. He got up from the bed and stretched, gazing out the window at the stars above.

  Some slight movement caught his eye and he stepped back, looking down at the cobbled walkway. He might be mistaken, but he believed he’d seen a cloaked man standing in the shadows.

  Nick could think of no legitimate reason for anyone to be watching Sterlyng’s house, so he slipped out of Maria’s chamber and went down the stairs. He
made his way through the dark house to one of the back doors. Letting himself out, he silently skirted the wall of the house, keeping to the cover of the shrubs.

  When he reached the corner, he crouched low and looked toward the opposite end of the lane, where he’d seen the man.

  He was still there.

  Nick slipped back the way he’d come and cut away from the wall, toward the neighboring house. If he could get ’round it, then cross over and come up behind the man, the element of surprise would work in Nicholas’s favor.

  Moving quickly, he put his plan into action, praying that the watcher would not leave—or act—until Nicholas managed to get to him. His presence was ominous, though Nick could not imagine his intent.

  He crossed over to the neighboring dwelling, moved up the side of the building to the front. Silently, he advanced across the way without calling attention to his actions. The man still remained in place, although Nicholas had the distinct impression that he was getting ready to move.

  A short distance from the watcher was a path that went down to the river. There were bushes and shrubs that had recently come into bloom, and Nicholas made use of them to cover his progress as he crept along.

  When he’d gone far enough, he doubled back, just as the man started walking stealthily toward Maria’s house.

  The fellow dropped his cloak, and Nicholas saw that he was slightly built and his hair was light. Nick had no doubt it was Tournay.

  But he could not figure out why his erstwhile secretary would be here. Did he hope to harm Maria? Mayhap Sterlyng? Or had he come to finish whatever he’d been doing in the duke’s study?

  He would have answers, Nicholas thought as he came upon Tournay from behind. He threw one powerful arm around the secretary’s throat and yanked him down.

  Tournay pulled out a long, thin dagger and rolled away from Nicholas. He quickly came to his feet and brandished the knife at his opponent.

  Nicholas gave a quick laugh at the pathetic weapon.

  “You will not laugh when you find this blade in your gullet, my lord,” Tournay threatened.

  “You’ll have to spear me in the back, Tournay,” Nicholas scoffed, “just as you had to attack me last night. You’re not man enough to fight face-to-face.”

  Tournay grasped the dagger and lunged, but Nicholas had no difficulty dodging the blow. He grabbed Tournay’s arm and twisted, though the secretary went suddenly limp and threw Nicholas off balance. He lashed out with his foot and tripped Nick, sending him to the ground.

 

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