Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me

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Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me Page 3

by Lana Williams


  Suspicious.

  Fascinated.

  Enchanted.

  Conflicting emotions flooded him as he studied her, trying to determine if she was the woman he sought. He did his best to push away his attraction to her as it would not aid his cause.

  “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Lady Elizabeth. Thank you for your hospitality.” Playing the part of a friendly lord, he took her hand in his and dipped his head. A spear of pain shot through his temple as a vision arose, threatening to take him to his knees once again.

  He dropped her hand and drew a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was lose control in front of her.

  Was it her touch that had caused the vision? Rarely had that happened to him before.

  Her eyes narrowed with caution. Next would be mistrust followed soon after by fear. Damn the visions and all that came with them! “My condolences for the loss of your brother,” he managed.

  Startled by the flash of pain that had crossed his face, Elizabeth watched him with concern. “Are you well, my lord?”

  He shook his head. “Fine, merely tired.”

  Elizabeth’s stomach tilted at his rueful smile. His vivid blue eyes were a startling contrast against his nearly black hair and made his features all the more arresting. Dark brows, impossibly long lashes and high cheekbones created a striking visage – one she had difficulty looking at, for he stole her thoughts. Men such as he did not come to Amberley.

  She glanced away, remembering to acknowledge his sympathy with a nod. “Thank you. The loss of my brother has been difficult, especially for my father.”

  He didn’t look anything like William, other than they were both handsome. Surely he had nothing to do with the injured knight else he would’ve broached the subject by now.

  Her unease had more to do with her attraction to him than her intuition. Or so she hoped. Never had she met a man like Lord Trisbane, and she wasn’t certain how to conduct herself.

  She frowned for a moment, attempting to gather her composure before meeting his gaze again. “Might we offer you something to quench your thirst?”

  Nicholas decided now was not the time to question her further on what had happened to her brother. “That would be much appreciated.”

  He watched as she sent an odd look at Robert. Dark lashes framed her large eyes, accented by her arched brows. Her alabaster complexion held a hint of rose. The woman was a beauty for certain.

  “Lord Trisbane?”

  The lift of her brow made Nicholas realize she awaited an answer to a question he hadn’t heard. Using a different name would take some getting used to. “Aye. I must be more tired than I thought.” He added a sheepish smile to help gain her trust.

  She smiled in return, but trust seemed far away. She watched him as though he were an interesting yet annoying insect she’d found on the doorstep. “Robert asked if you’d mind sleeping in the hall. I fear we don’t have any spare chambers at the moment.”

  Nicholas looked at her, for her tone held an odd tension. Her polite expression remained in place, but the rose in her cheeks deepened. What secrets did she hide?

  Then it dawned on him. The way he’d been staring, any maiden would blush. “The hall would be most welcome, my lady. I apologize if I seem distracted. My men and I are weary from our travels. Having a roof over our heads and a fire at our backs would be a welcome change.”

  She nodded, seeming unconvinced of his answer or his intentions. He couldn’t blame her.

  A servant walked into the hall carrying a flagon and goblets and another followed with bread and cheese.

  Lady Elizabeth gestured toward the table where they placed the food. “Please, help yourself to some sustenance. If you’ll excuse me.” She turned to the steward. “Robert, I would speak with you in the solar for a moment.”

  “Aye, my lady.” The steward bowed to Nicholas and followed the lady out of the hall.

  Nicholas sat at the table and filled a goblet from the flagon, grateful for a moment alone. The cool, delicious ale held a hint of apple and went down easy. The bread was light, much different from the dark, coarse loaves served at home. The soft cheese held a hint of honey and ginger. He wished his own keep had such tasteful fare.

  Exhaustion and desperation together hit him like a blow. Even now, William could be dead and he had no way of knowing. Mayhap he shouldn’t have left him after all.

  He rubbed his eyes, feeling useless, helpless. Yet after his vision, he had to believe he hadn’t come here in vain.

  William deserved more than Nicholas’s broken visions to avenge him, but no other path lay before him. If he didn’t have the chance to meet the grieving lord, he’d seek the lady out by fair means or foul and hope a vision struck again. This time, he’d be better prepared for it.

  Seldom had a particular person caused his second sight to emerge, but it was worth a try to see if touching Lady Elizabeth did so.

  With luck, he would know soon if she and her father were guilty. If not, he’d be gone before morning light to seek answers elsewhere.

  *

  Elizabeth knocked on the chamber door and called out softly, “Father? ’Tis I, Elizabeth.”

  “Come in, Izzie, come in!” Her father’s overly enthusiastic reply made her heart sink like a stone. ’Twas not a good sign.

  “I’ve brought some supper for you.” She entered the chamber with a trencher and closed the door behind her. “Are you hungry?”

  “Do we have visitors, Izzie?” Her father sat in a chair before the fire, a fur across his lap and a wide-eyed, child-like look upon his face. “Why don’t you bring them to see me?”

  Aye, she wanted to say. We have visitors and one of them makes my words catch in my throat and my heart beat faster. I can’t wait for you to meet him.

  She set his meal on a nearby table and turned to study him. Her normally well-groomed father looked a fright. His white hair stood on end. His tunic was stained and sat crooked on his shoulders. Her father was not with her now. She could not share this side of him with strangers. “Well, I would bring them to visit with you, but I found out they like to fish.”

  His expression turned thunderous. “Nay!”

  “Indeed, Father. They do not care for the hunt.”

  He waved a hand in dismissal. “Tell them to be on their way. They’ll not have a go at our ponds. I’ve no time for them.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Surely now he’d remain in his chamber until Lord Trisbane left. “Aunt Margaret will soon be here. She told me you promised her a game of chess.”

  “My sister? Chess?”

  A lump built in Elizabeth’s throat as she watched him try to match the words to their meaning. At last recognition dawned and his frown eased.

  “I’ll not let her beat me like the last time.”

  “We’ll soon see about that, won’t we, brother?” Margaret asked from the doorway. Her forced smile didn’t hide her sadness at her brother’s state of mind. “Don’t let us keep you from the...er...fisherman, my dear. We shall be just fine, isn’t that right, Angus?”

  Her father gave them both a simple smile, which nearly broke Elizabeth’s heart.

  *

  “The weather has been fair for your travels?” Robert, the irksome, suspicious steward sat beside Nicholas at the head table like an ever watchful guard dog as they awaited the evening meal.

  “Indeed. A good spring rain would be welcome though.” Nicholas clenched his jaw in frustration as he scanned the faces of the people making their way into the hall. Neither Lord Crefton nor Lady Elizabeth had yet made an appearance.

  “Aye,” Robert agreed. “It has been some time since we’ve had any. How was your winter in the north?”

  “Drier than we’d like,” Nicholas ground out. In truth, he had no idea. He’d spent the winter in Normandy. How much longer would he have to sit here discussing the weather? Where were Lady Elizabeth and her father?

  Brom and Stephen came in with several men. Their conversation flowed e
asily as they settled at one of the lower tables. Stephen caught Nicholas’s gaze and gave a quick nod and a smile. Nicholas darted a glance at Robert, hoping the steward had missed the silent communication. Stephen needed to curtail his enthusiasm lest he rouse suspicion.

  Brom, on the other hand, acted as a soldier traveling with his lord should. His attention, though initially caught by the tapestries, was held by the ale before him. Nicholas hoped his interest in the drink was feigned and that he remembered their true purpose at this keep.

  “Will Lord Crefton be attending supper?” Nicholas asked Robert, his patience at end. “I would like to thank him for his hospitality.”

  “Nay, but I’d be happy to express your appreciation to him.”

  Nicholas nearly groaned in frustration.

  An older man approached Robert and Nicholas, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Lord Trisbane, this is Sir Kenneth Basile. He’s been in Lord Crefton’s service for many years,” Robert explained. “He wanted to...meet you.”

  “Sir Kenneth,” Nicholas said.

  The large knight widened his stance, his expression unfriendly. “You’ll be leaving come first light?”

  Nicholas tensed. If the man hoped to intimidate him, he’d soon be disappointed.

  “Unfortunately, one of my men isn’t feeling well. We may need lodging for another night.” Damned if he was going to leave before he had answers.

  The steward and the knight turned to look at Brom and Stephen, both of whom seemed to be enjoying themselves.

  “They seem fine to me,” commented the old knight gruffly.

  “One is ailing,” Nicholas responded, daring the man to question his word.

  “Good evening.” The soft tone of Lady Elizabeth’s voice drew Nicholas’s attention away from the doubtful knight and distracted Sir Kenneth and Robert from scrutinizing the men-at-arms further.

  Nicholas stood, glad at least one of his quarry had arrived. “Lady Elizabeth, how delightful to see you again,” he said with a smile, the words rolling easily off his tongue. How could seeing her be anything but? He took care not to touch her in case a vision overcame him.

  She hesitated a moment before sitting beside him.

  “It has been some time since I’ve had the pleasure of conversing with a beautiful lady.” That was certainly true. An oddly familiar scent teased his nose as he sat beside her, bringing to mind spring flowers, stirring the edge of his memory.

  She smiled politely but said nothing, the pink in her cheeks her only response. She sat stiffly, making him wonder if his comments made her uncomfortable.

  “Robert tells me you’re the creator of these striking tapestries,” Nicholas said in an effort to find a subject more to her liking.

  “Aye. I enjoy weaving.” She watched Robert pour her wine, then smiled her thanks.

  “You have a true gift. I’ve seen some from Arras, France and yours are even finer.”

  She met his gaze at last, her lips parted in surprise. “That is indeed a compliment. Thank you.”

  He smiled. “My pleasure.” And it was much to his amazement. The hint of vulnerability her expression held pulled at him.

  She glanced away, long, graceful fingers gripping her wine goblet tightly. “One is my mother’s design, but the other two are mine.”

  “Your mother shared your passion for weaving?” Nicholas asked.

  “She taught me much but died when I was quite young.” The torchlight turned her dark brown eyes golden as she caught his gaze again.

  Nicholas frowned in an attempt to dismiss the sympathy filling him. That would do him no good. He continued to ask questions, but the lady was difficult to draw into conversation. Despite his attempts to charm her, she kept a formal distance in her manner.

  Servants delivered roasted beef with a spicy sauce, a brewet made of thin pieces of pork in a cinnamon broth, and creamed onions to the long tables.

  Lady Elizabeth served Nicholas with hands that moved with competent grace, capturing his complete attention. The idea of those hands creating the tapestries displayed around the room stirred him. He could almost see her performing the rhythmic movements used in working a loom along his skin. Desire roused deep within him. He pulled his gaze back to his trencher.

  What magic did this lady hold over him?

  The flavorful fare was something Nicholas would normally have enjoyed, but the lady seated at his side distracted him. She ate very little. He wasn’t sure if it was the brewet she found distasteful or his company. Several times, he felt her gaze on him, but when he looked at her, she looked away.

  The longer he was with her, the more determined he became to gain a genuine smile from her, to break through that reserve, if only for a moment.

  He found himself telling her a story of his mother, Lady Alyna, and her attempt to control a litter of pups that had been set loose in the hall during the evening meal. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory.

  “The guests didn’t seem to mind overly much, but she did. She had two tucked under one arm, another in her other hand, and still another held between her feet while one tugged at her kirtle with its teeth.”

  Elizabeth laughed, those brown eyes warming at last. “How many were there?”

  “Ten. She fought a losing battle, but that didn’t stop her.”

  “She sounds like a determined lady. And who let the puppies loose in the hall?” The glance she sent him was nearly flirtatious, a smile still on her lips and her brow arched.

  He blinked several times, hoping to make sense of her words. When at last he did, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I confess ’twas me, but don’t tell her. She doesn’t know to this day.”

  He was rewarded with another chuckle, which pleased him to no end.

  “We haven’t had pups here for some time. I miss having them underfoot,” she said.

  “A keep isn’t complete without dogs.” He let the silence sit between them as he perused the hall, so much more complete than his would ever be with or without dogs. He shook off the thought and shifted the conversation to a more purposeful one. “I had hoped to meet your father, Lady Elizabeth.”

  She darted a cautious look at him with those large brown eyes. “His grief over the loss of my brother makes him poor company.”

  “The loss of a son is something no father should have to bear.”

  Her gaze searched his face before she responded. “Then I’m sure you understand my father’s absence. I fear he won’t be up to meeting you before you continue your journey on the morrow.”

  “My stay here may be delayed.”

  “Oh?” Lady Elizabeth looked startled at his announcement. “Why is that?”

  Robert cleared his throat, his brow creased. “Lord Trisbane has advised us that one of his men is ailing.”

  Nicholas nearly smiled at the steward’s displeasure. “Brom complained of an illness earlier. We may need to remain until he’s well enough to travel.”

  At least long enough to find out if my brother was held here.

  “Which one is unwell?” Elizabeth’s tone reflected doubt as she watched his men.

  “The dark-haired one, Brom,” Nicholas replied, uncomfortable as he watched Stephen who seemed bent on seducing the maid who served him. At least Brom acted with circumspection.

  As they finished the meal, an idea struck him that he could pursue until he either found a way to meet Lord Crefton or caught the lady alone.

  The dungeon – the small cell that had appeared in his vision might provide a clue. A late night visit to the lowest level of the keep was in order.

  Chapter Three

  Elizabeth heaved a sigh and rolled over yet again. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten enough at supper. Awareness and nervousness had deluged her the moment she’d caught sight of Lord Trisbane and had squelched what little appetite she’d had.

  There was no help for it. She had to go down to the kitchen and at least have some bread. Maybe even
a bit of cheese. Otherwise, sleep would remain elusive.

  With reluctance, she threw back the covers and picked up a coverlet to wrap around her. She glanced at her maid, who slumbered on a pallet near the fire. A candle sat on a bedside table, and she lit it from the coals in the hearth.

  She’d best take the back stairs to make sure she didn’t run into anyone, especially the guests sleeping in the hall. She sighed as an image of Lord Trisbane formed in her mind. He had a way of looking at a person with those intense blue eyes as though they had his entire focus.

  Quite unsettling.

  His attempts to charm her had not gone unnoticed. Nor had his impossibly broad shoulders. He towered over her. How in the world was she supposed to sleep when she knew he slumbered below her in the hall?

  While her suspicions regarding the reason for his visit had not been completely alleviated, she couldn’t help but think he would’ve raised the subject of William by now.

  Her breath caught as her bare feet hit the cold stone stairs. The steep, uneven steps meant to deter invaders gave her no pause as she descended with the flickering candle lighting her way.

  She entered the kitchen, relieved that the coals in the hearth still shed a soft amber glow over the large, timbered chamber. Round loaves of bread draped with cloths sat on the worktable in the center of the room, leftover from the evening meal.

  Elizabeth’s mouth watered as she broke off a chunk of the crusty bread and took a bite. Cheese was definitely in order. Before she could search out some, a sound caught her attention. She strained to listen, holding her breath.

  Nothing but silence echoed in the cavernous kitchen.

  Uncertain she’d truly heard anything, she listened closer. Another noise gave her pause. She gripped the coverlet around her and moved toward the dark entrance of the great hall to see if someone stirring there had caused the sound.

  As she peered into the dark passageway, she felt a presence behind her. She spun, her breath caught in her throat, to find Lord Trisbane standing before her. Startled, she glanced around the kitchen, wondering from where he could’ve come.

  “Lady Elizabeth,” he greeted her softly. “Are you having trouble sleeping?” His voice shivered through her. The deep burgundy of his tunic set off his dark hair and blue eyes. She hoped he didn’t take notice of the way she gawked at him.

 

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