“Oh good Lord,” Avalene gasped. “She told you all of this?”
“The confession wasn’t that difficult to obtain.” I shrugged slightly to disguise the shudder that went through me. “She started talking as soon as she was chained next to Blanche, with the battered bodies of Walter and Crispin still hanging from their manacles.”
I looked at the others to gauge their reactions. Gerhardt was still translating my words into German for Gretchen and Hilda. Faulke and Richard were brooding. That was the only way to describe their dark moods. Who could blame them? They had nurtured a viper in their midst for years. No one had ever suspected Merewald.
“What a monster,” Avalene declared. “How could anyone carry out those murders and then return to her victims’ children to help care for them?”
“I asked that question myself and I still have no answer,” I said. My gaze slid to Faulke and Richard, but I spoke to Avalene. “The woman looks perfectly normal, plain and unassuming, her devotion to Claire seemingly natural. Even her explanation of her crimes sounded perfectly sane, as if anyone in her position would do the same.” I shook my head. “Everything was done for Jeanne, she claimed, and for Claire. She was so quietly deranged and so morally certain she had done the right things that she was able to hide the truth from everyone for years.”
“Why does the king want her at the Tower?” Avalene asked.
Faulke provided the answer. “He wants her confession recorded along with the others. The spy will be found, the troubadour who claimed to speak for Lord Aleric. If a connection can be made, the king will decide if Lord Aleric will stand trial.”
“The king has decided already,” Chiavari said in a sure voice. “Almain has too many supporters to risk a trial, but Mordecai will make certain rumors of Aleric’s treachery are carried to every keep. Aleric will die of some accident or common ailment in the coming weeks, and every lord in the realm will know why. His death will reinforce their fear that no man can escape the king’s justice, no matter their rank.”
He finished by taking an apple from the table and biting into it, seemingly unconcerned with Aleric’s fate. The other men were scowling.
“He should be drawn and quartered,” Richard announced, “his entrails spread before him as he dies.”
“Aye,” Gerhardt agreed. “They should tar and burn his entrails. They should—”
The point of a dagger landed in the middle of the table, its tip buried a fingernail length deep into the hard wood, its tang still vibrating. Gerhardt stopped talking midsentence as everyone turned their attention to Faulke.
“There are ladies present,” he reminded Richard and Gerhardt in a mild voice.
The two men muttered apologies.
“So what will you do now?” Chiavari asked Faulke. “Your innocence in your wives’ deaths will be known far and wide, once Aleric’s guilt becomes common knowledge.”
I felt another thrill of happiness that Faulke was finally free from the cloud of suspicion that had followed him for so many years, free of the impotent anger over rumors he could not dispute. His next words sobered me.
“Aleric’s guilt will never be proven beyond a doubt,” he said, “and that means my innocence will never be proven beyond a doubt. However, I assume more people will believe me now when I proclaim my innocence. As for what I will do?” He lifted my hand and kissed my wrist. His eyes never left mine. “I intend to spend a relaxing evening with my wife.”
“We should leave for Hawksforth as soon as possible,” Richard said with a sideways glance at Gerhardt. “What if Almain sets more spies against us? At Hawksforth, we can defend ourselves.”
“Merewald proved we are vulnerable at Hawksforth,” Faulke said. “We will remain in London until Aleric is no longer a threat. Anyone in his hire should cease their efforts against us when there is no longer the promise of pay.”
My fingers were splayed on Faulke’s thigh beneath the table, his hand atop mine. I gently pulled my hand free and nodded at Chiavari. “What about you and Avalene? What will you do now?”
“We have stayed in London too long.” Chiavari looked around the room, then his gaze returned to his wife. “I promised the king we would remain at Ashland until Sir Roland’s murder was solved. I will testify to the confession, and then we will set sail for Italy soon after. A ship already awaits our passage.”
Avalene nodded, but her eyes were sad. She would probably be leaving England for good. Her father would visit her, but I doubted she would ever again see the aunt and uncle who had raised her, or any of the people she had grown up with. I knew all too well what it was like to leave behind everything familiar. I reached across the table for her hand.
“Faulke has never been on a pilgrimage beyond these shores,” I told her. “I would very much like to show him the wonders of Venice. The journey will be sweeter, knowing we have a reunion with good friends awaiting us at our destination. In the meantime, you will see parts of the world that most Englishmen don’t even know exist—mountains and seas, and cities that will take your breath away with their beauty. Just think of all the interesting new people you will meet.”
I looked at Faulke and took my own words to heart. If I had never left Rheinbaden, if I had managed to stay hidden away at Grunental, I would never have known Faulke existed in this world, waiting for me to find him. How different both our lives would be. We were each a force to be reckoned with on our own, but when we turned together to face a challenge, we were like magnets, always stronger.
His eyes collided with mine and we both fell into one of our staring contests. I would never tire of gazing at him. His beautiful eyes, his handsome face, and especially the love for me that I could almost see radiating from him. He once said that he could give me no gift that I could not buy for myself, but he was wrong.
He had given me his heart.
EPILOGUE
In the coming years, Claire did indeed marry Remmington’s heir, and they founded a long and prosperous dynasty. Lucy married Baron Tenby’s heir, Albert, and bore him five children. Henry de Clare died young, before he and Jane could marry. Because her parents always encouraged her to follow her own heart, she became the prioress of Maldon Abbey.
As for the adults, Faulke and Isabel did not have one child, but instead had eight, an equal mix of boys and girls, who helped fill Hawksforth with love and laughter, along with the children of Gretchen and Richard, and Gerhardt and Hilda.
They all spoke Welsh.
FOR BILL
Each day is an adventure.
Can’t wait for tomorrow!
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My family raised me to be a reader and a dreamer. “Life is limited only by your imagination.” “Anything is possible if you work hard for it.” Those statements were not always true, but I owe most of my successes in life to their inspiration.
However, I would not be a writer without the unconditional support of my best friend and husband. He is living proof that knights in shining armor still exist, and he is always ready to slay my dragons. His belief in me is unshakeable. Mine in him is the same. We make a good team. And exceptional children.
The entire staff at Random House also gets a loud round of applause. I always feel like I am working with the best in the business, and I am very grateful for their guidance and expertise. Junessa, you’re a treasure.
Most of all, I want to thank my readers. It’s still equal parts joy, exhilaration, and terror to realize other people will read my books. As a reader myself, most books I read live up to my expectations but some soar beyond them. You make me try harder to soar. Thank you for your continued support!
BY ELIZABETH ELLIOTT
The Warlord
Scoundrel
Betrothed
The Dark Knight
The Princess
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ELIZABETH ELLIO
TT is the author of The Warlord, a huge bestseller that garnered numerous awards, including the RITA for Best First Book. She followed it with Scoundrel, Betrothed, The Dark Knight, and The Princess. Elizabeth Elliott divides her time between Minnesota and Dubai.
elizabeth-elliott.com
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