They were moving swiftly across the bailey, unaware that Kurtis and Cassandra were following. Kurtis had seen the expression on Michael’s face and the instant shock on Chloë’s, and correctly assumed that something was amiss. His intuition told him to follow.
Chloë was oblivious to Kurtis on her heels as she looked up at Michael, expecting an answer to her question. The big knight was stoic but obviously concerned.
“He would be a fool to do so and bring the threat of Coverdale down around him,” Michael replied. “Whatever it is, we shall know soon enough.”
There wasn’t much Chloë could say to that so she clamped her mouth shut, following Michael into the big, cool keep and into the first floor solar that belonged to Lord Byron. It was lavish and comfortable, and displayed the wealth of the Coverdale dynasty with its fur rugs and silver plate on the hearth. Coverdale’s big gray dogs lounged near the fire. By the time Michael pulled Chloë into the room, her legs were shaking so badly that she could hardly stand.
Byron was at his big table, carefully inspecting the seal on a large piece of vellum in his hand. There were four soldiers in the room and an unarmed man Chloë didn’t recognize standing in the midst of them. Chloë’s eyes fell on the man, tall and dark and swarthy, and already she didn’t like the look of him. She didn’t even have to ask if the man was from Ingilby; she already knew. He had that smell about him. She made sure to stay close to Michael and his enormous, protective presence.
Byron glanced up when Michael and Chloë entered the room. He waved the missive at her. “My lady,” he said. “It would seem that Lord Ingilby has sent a missive for Keir. I have told his messenger that Keir is on the Welsh border and the man has insisted I read the missive to you. I have sent for your father.”
Chloë’s heart began to beat painfully against her ribs, her mouth gone dry with fear. “You told Ingilby’s messenger I was here?” she nearly demanded. “Why did you tell him?”
Coverdale didn’t seem concerned. “He cannot hurt you, my lady. There is no need to fear.”
Chloë wasn’t convinced and was more than uncomfortable that Coverdale had divulged her whereabouts to the messenger, who would undoubtedly return to Ingilby with the news. With Keir away, she felt vulnerable and afraid. She looked to the messenger, his dark and sweaty face, and resisted the urge to lash out at him.
“What could Ingilby possibly have to say to Keir?” she hissed. “What is this madness?”
Alphonse was Ingilby’s messenger. He took a long, hard look at the Lady Chloë de Geld and was not disappointed. He’d never truly seen the woman, not in the entire year he had served Ingilby, and he could instantly see what had Ingilby so smitten. He’d never seen a lovelier woman and for a moment, he was actually speechless as he gazed upon her angelic face. She was indeed a goddess.
“Lord Ingilby received the wedding announcement for your nuptials with Sir Keir St. Héver,” he said in his heavy Spanish accent. “Since Sir Keir serves Coverdale, Lord Ingilby has sent a missive of his own to the prospective groom.”
By this time, Kurtis had put himself between Michael and Chloë, his big body tense as he sized up Alphonse.
“I am Kurtis St. Héver, Keir’s brother,” he told him in a deep and growling tone. “I will make any decisions regarding the Lady Chloë in his stead and at this moment, I would have her removed from the room. Whatever Ingilby has to say, I will hear it first before deeming if it is suitable for Lady Chloë’s ears. She does not need to be upset or harassed by a man who only recently burned her home.”
Alphonse met Kurtis’ challenging gaze. “Hear it, then,” he invited. “You may all hear it. It is no secret and I promise you, Sir Kurtis, that Lady Chloë will want to hear this as it pertains to her betrothed.”
“’Tis all right, Kurtis,” Chloë reassured him. “I will hear whatever must be said. If it pertains to Keir, then I must.”
Kurtis didn’t like the sound of that at all but he didn’t let his thoughts show. He maintained his hostile posture as Coverdale broke the seal on the missive and carefully unrolled it. All eyes turned to Byron expectantly as the man flattened out the vellum, brought forth another taper for more light, and began to read.
Byron read slowly. He read the first few sentences, grunting and shaking his head, until coming to the mid portion of the vellum sheet. Then, his eyes widened and he looked to Alphonse in utter outrage. His mouth worked and sweat popped out on his forehead, but he refrained from speaking, instead returning to the vellum and reading it to the very end. By the time he finished, his rough old hands were quivering.
Meanwhile, Chloë watched the man, slowly dying inside. She was quaking so badly that she eventually had to grasp Michael’s arm to keep from falling. Cassandra had come up beside her, grasping her arm and putting a hand on her waist in mute support. Chloë was afraid to look at her sister, afraid she would start weeping if she did. It was easier to remain strong if she did not look at the worried expressions around her. Based on Coverdale’s demeanor, she was terrified.
“God’s Teeth,” Coverdale finally hissed as he laid the vellum to the rough tabletop. He looked at Alphonse in a beseeching manner. “Is this true?”
Alphonse nodded firmly. “It is, my lord.”
Coverdale’s brown eyes lingered on the Spaniard for a long, volatile moment before returning his gaze to the vellum. He read it again and shook his head when he was finished. His shock, his disgust, was evident.
“If he is lying, I will kill him myself,” Byron said sincerely. “I swear by all that is holy, Ingilby will not live to see another day if he is lying about this.”
Alphonse maintained his steady stance. “He is not lying, my lord.”
With that, Coverdale let out a heavy sigh. He couldn’t even look at Chloë, still staring at the vellum as he spoke.
“My lady,” he began slowly. “It would seem that this is something that does indeed concern you. Ingilby is making a proposal to Keir and you are an integral part of that proposal.”
Chloë was so tense that her stomach was in knots. She felt like she might vomit. “What proposal, my lord?”
Coverdale sighed again, with great regret, and began to read:
To the honorable knight Sir Keir St. Héver,
Be it known of your impending marriage to the Lady Chloë de Geld is announced. Be it also known that your son, whom was long lost to you, is now in my possession. I will return you your son on the condition that you present to me the Lady Chloë. The terms are non-negotiable and should you refuse, I will kill your son and send his corpse back to you in pieces. Give me Chloë and you will have your son, alive.
You have a fortnight to make your decision.
John Ingilby
For a moment, no one spoke. Everyone seemed frozen with shock. The first two people to openly react were Michael and Kurtis; they lunged at Alphonse, surrounded by Coverdale soldiers, and grabbed the man before he could make a reasonable attempt to defend himself.
Michael had him by the neck, throwing him to the ground as Kurtis pounced. He slammed Alphonse’s head onto the floor as Chloë and Cassandra yelped with fright. Cassandra turned her face away, weeping, as her husband began to pound Ingilby’s messenger.
“He is lying,” Kurtis roared. “God damn you to hell for such lies!”
Anton picked that moment to enter the solar. His blue eyes flew open wide at the fight, watching as Coverdale and Michael tried to pull Kurtis off of Ingilby’s messenger. It was a chaotic scene with the women weeping and the men fighting, and Anton slammed the chamber door shut so no one would see what madness was happening inside. It was pure bedlam.
“What goes on here?” he demanded.
Coverdale couldn’t answer him. He was bellowing orders to Kurtis, demanding that he release Alphonse. But Kurtis wasn’t listening, at least not right away, and pummeled Alphonse with his big fists. Cassandra, scared and upset, realized her husband was out of control and she cried out to him.
“Kurtis!” she
wept. “For the love of God, please stop!”
Hearing his wife’s sobbing cry broke through Kurtis’ fury. He came to an unsteady halt, gazing up at his weeping wife before returning his attention to the dazed man beneath him. He couldn’t begin to describe what he was feeling at the moment; fury, grief, and absolute horror. He was feeling everything his brother would have felt had he been there to hear the missive. He allowed Michael and Coverdale to pull him up and he stumbled over to his wife, throwing his arms around her to comfort her. Beside them, Chloë was pale and shaken, weeping softly into her hand. Kurtis threw an arm around her, too, and pulled her into their embrace.
Michael eyed Kurtis and the frightened women as he yanked Alphonse to his feet. The man had a bloodied lip, and was rather dazed, as Michael shoved him onto the nearest chair. He leaned over him menacingly as Byron handed Anton the missive.
“How did Ingilby come by Keir’s son?” he growled.
Alphonse wiped at the blood on his lip. “He found him. Now he has him.”
Michael shook his head, struggling with his anger. “That is not a proper answer,” he snarled. “How did Ingilby come by Keir’s son? Tell me now or I turn Kurtis loose on you again. This time, I will not stop him from killing you.”
“Kill me and Ingilby kills the boy.”
“Nay!” Chloë pulled herself free of Kurtis and Cassandra’s embrace, her long red hair catching in the folds of Kurtis’ mail. Her expression was pleading. “Please do not hurt him!”
Alphonse turned his attention to her, his dark eyes drifting over her luscious form. “The terms have been conveyed. The child’s life is in your hands.”
Chloë was desperate, earnest. “I will do whatever Ingilby wishes if he will only send the boy home to Keir unharmed.”
A collective gasp went up between Kurtis, Cassandra and, surprisingly, Anton. “You will do no such thing,” Anton said firmly, having finished reading the missive that was still in his hand. “Ingilby is a beast. You will not give in to this… this blackmail.”
Chloë looked at her father, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Why not?” she asked softly. “You would not marry me to Keir before he left for Wales, so why are you so resistant to a marriage to Ingilby? Is that not what you ultimately wish? For me to marry well? Ingilby is wildly wealthy and a cousin to Northumberland. Or perhaps you simply do not wish for me to marry anyone. Perhaps you simply want to see me wither away and die.”
Anton snapped a finger at her. “Foolishness, Chloë,” he hissed, slapping the missive to the table. “You do not know what you are saying. I denied your marriage to Keir because the man can very well perish in Wales and I would not knowingly widow you. You already know this. I am sorry you do not understand that I am doing what I feel is best for you.”
“And now?” she was feeling stronger, confronting her father without the devastating emotion that usually accompanied this subject. “Father, if Ingilby truly has Keir’s son, then there is no question of what to do. I will go to Ingilby and he will turn the boy over to Keir. That is as it should be.”
“Nay,” Kurtis was at her side, grasping her arm as if to physically prevent her from giving herself over to Ingilby. “I will ride for Keir immediately. He must make this decision.”
She looked at Kurtis, his handsome pale face that resembled his striking brother, and smiled faintly.
“There is no question, Kurtis,” she insisted softly. “Keir cannot make this decision. It will tear him apart to have to make such a terrible choice.”
A look of extreme pain crossed Kurtis’ features. “Chloë, you cannot do this. Keir must know. He must make that determination.”
Her voice was soft. “If the question was presented to you, what would you do?”
Kurtis’ pale cheeks reddened as he cast a sidelong glance at Alphonse, still in the chair and hearing every word said. He did not want the man reporting their conversation back to Ingilby, in any fashion. They had already said too much in front of him, including the fact that Keir was in Wales.
“Get him out of here,” he told Michael. “Throw him in the vault for now. We will deal with him at the appropriate time.”
Michael nodded, yanking Alphonse to his feet and thrusting him at the Coverdale guards. Roughly, the man was shuttled from the room and the door slammed behind him, leaving a tense and ugly situation in its wake. Everyone was edgy and uncertain, feeling the pain of the proposal down to their very bones. They all knew the stakes from an emotional standpoint, from Keir’s standpoint, and none of them more keenly than Michael. He made his way over to Chloë.
“Kurtis is correct,” he said in a low, firm voice. “You cannot make this decision without Keir’s blessing. It would not be fair to him.”
She looked up at Michael and her composure began to slip. “Listen to what you are saying,” she whispered. “Were you not there when Keir lost his wife and daughter? He told me he hit you in the face when you tried to prevent him from seeing their burnt bodies. He has been searching for Merritt for three long years. Do you truly think that if there is a chance Ingilby really has the boy, he would not beg, borrow or steal to have him returned? Merritt is only a child. What he has endured over the past three years must have been truly hellish. He deserves to be with his father and Keir deserves to have the boy returned. It is the only solution.”
Kurtis couldn’t take it. He let go of Chloë and moved to the nearest chair, collapsing on it and putting his head in his hands.
“Sweet Jesus,” he muttered into his hands. “Is this true? Is this really happening?”
Cassandra went to her husband, kneeling down beside him and putting her arms around his shoulders. Torn, upset, she looked between her husband and her sister.
“Perhaps we must ask to see the boy before anything is agreed upon,” she suggested. “If Ingilby is lying about the boy, then there is no choice to make.”
“How did he know about the boy in the first place?” Michael wondered aloud. “I do not understand how he could even know.”
Coverdale, largely silent through the exchange, shook his head and went to sit wearily at his table. “The siege of Pendragon is not a secret in Yorkshire,” he said. “It is a sad and bloody tale. Most, if not all, of the northern allies know of it. It is obvious that the man heard about it from someone. But I am very curious as to how the boy came into Ingilby’s possession, quite coincidentally I might add. Keir has something that he wants, and now he has something that Keir wants. Very odd.”
Chloë’s gaze moved between Kurtis, her sister, and Lord Coverdale. Her tears were completely gone and her composure was remarkably strong. It was strange how, when faced with the heart-wrenching proposal, she felt a remarkable amount of peace with the only possible decision. When she should have been hysterical with grief, she was genuinely calm and collected. In her mind, there was no other choice. For Keir to have his son returned, she would gladly make the sacrifice.
“Listen to me, all of you,” she said in her sweet, soft voice. “This is not a decision Keir should have to make. It is a decision for me to make. I love Keir more than anything on this earth and because of that, I would do anything for him. I would die for him, and kill for him, and if it is within my power, I would give him back the one thing that he wants perhaps more than anything else. I love him enough to give him his son back. If there is any chance that Ingilby truly has little Merritt, then I must take that chance. If I can do this for him, I will.”
Kurtis held her gaze a moment before turning away, clearly wiping at his eyes. Cassandra went to her sister and put her arms around her, holding her close.
“I understand,” she murmured, fighting back tears. “You are making a great sacrifice, Chloë. But I completely understand why you would.”
“It will destroy him,” Kurtis said hoarsely. He looked at Chloë, his eyes watering. “You were not there when he lost Madeleine and Frances. You did not see what the man went through. Chloë, he will go through that again with your loss. I am terrifi
ed he will not survive. As much as I hate myself for saying this, he has lived without Merritt for three years. The boy probably does not even remember him. You and my brother can have more children, but he can never find another you. If you do this, if you exchange yourself for Merritt, you will destroy him.”
Chloë went to her brother-in-law, putting her hands on his rough cheeks and forcing him to meet her eye. Kurtis was reluctant to gaze into the beautiful brown orbs but found himself mesmerized, unable to pull away.
“Then tell me truthfully,” she demanded softly. “You are so sure you can make this decision for your brother. What would you choose if you were Keir?”
Kurtis sighed heavily and tried to look away but Chloë would not let him. She shook him gently.
“Answer me,” she whispered. “What would Keir do?”
Kurtis stared at her and his eyes began to overflow. “I do not want to see my brother go through hell again. If you do this, he will not want to live.”
“Aye, he will,” she whispered. “He will have Merritt to live for.”
Kurtis looked miserable. “He will never stop trying to get you back, Chloë, not ever. He will kill Ingilby and anyone else who stands in his way to get you back.”
“That is what I am counting on.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think on it.”
Kurtis could see she was deadly serious and, somehow, he wasn’t quite so emotional anymore. The light of realization came to his eyes.
“Then…,” he muttered, paused, and started again. “Then you suspect this is not the end between you and my brother?”
She smiled at him. “Of course not,” she said. “I know that Keir will come for me. I have no doubt whatsoever, especially if, after Merritt is turned over to Keir, I commit myself to the nunnery at St. Wilfrid in Ripon. I will wait there until Keir comes for me. Who says I shall ever have to spend a day as Ingilby’s wife?”
After the full impact of her plans hit him, Kurtis appeared even more distressed. “It is a terrible chance you are taking, Chloë,” he insisted. “Ingilby is surely no fool. If he suspects treachery, then your life could be in danger.”
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