Chloë’s smile faded as she gazed at her father. Something had changed between them over the past few weeks, perhaps a trust that would never be regained. All she knew was that she felt differently about him now. She wondered if it was something that time would heal.
“Perhaps you should find Mother and tell her what has happened,” she suggested quietly.
Anton merely turned for the door, heading out into the corridor beyond. He was behaving strangely, perhaps resigned to his daughters’ futures, oddly removed from everything. But Chloë didn’t particularly care and neither did Cassandra. They hugged again until there was a commotion over on the desk where Summer was trying to save her father’s life, and Cassandra rushed to help.
Chloë remained with Keir, watching the activity. Now that the shock of their swift marriage was settling, she began to think of what the future would bring for them all. She turned to Keir.
“What now?” she asked softly.
Keir’s jaw ticked faintly, indicative of his emotion as he watched Garran fight for his life. “I will go and tell Ingilby that you and I are married,” he said. “I want you to retreat up to your chamber and remain there until I come for you.”
Chloë looked at him seriously. “Why is he here, Keir?” she wanted to know. “What was happening down in the bailey? Who was that man who grabbed me?”
Keir looked at her, remembering that her memory was still spotty to recent events and that she didn’t recall the missive from Ingilby regarding Merritt and her subsequent response. Blanche had refrained from telling Chloë anything for fear of upsetting her and Keir, too, was unsure how much to tell her. They had hoped they wouldn’t have to, hoping her memory would make a full return. She had been through a lot over the past few weeks, today included. Still, it wasn’t fair to her to not know everything since so much of it centered around her. Better to be prepared.
“Come with me,” he said softly.
Keir took Chloë’s hand and led her out of the solar just as Michael and Kurtis entered from the bailey. Chloë’s eyes widened at the sight of Michael; he was dirty, exhausted, and had a big cut above his left eye. Kurtis spoke first.
“We… well, well may have a problem,” he looked at his brother. “Michael… he took his opponent and….”
“Is Garran dead?” Michael demanded, cutting Kurtis off.
Keir eyed the big knight. “I do not know,” he said honestly. “Summer is with him inside the….”
Michael blew past him, heading into the solar where there was much activity around Garran spread out over the big oak table. The priest who had so recently married Keir and Chloë was standing at the head of the table, giving Garran last rites. Keir, Chloë and Kurtis watched Michael go with some concern before Keir returned his attention to his brother.
“What happened out there?” he asked. “Where is the prisoner?”
Kurtis sighed heavily. “Michael gored him,” he said. “Then he carried the wounded man up to the wall walk and threw him over the side, directly down onto Ingilby’s party. They are screaming for blood, Keir. They are furious.”
Keir’s brow furrowed. “He threw the man from the parapet?”
Kurtis nodded, his gaze finding the open solar door and seeing all of the activity inside as they tried to save Garran’s life.
“Vengeance for Summer,” Kurtis muttered. “I have never seen Michael so enraged. What he did, he did for her and for no other reason than that. Remind me never to get the man angry again.”
Keir grunted, wiping wearily at his eyes as he thought on his next course of action. The situation was going from bad to worse.
“I will speak with Ingilby now,” he said, moving past Kurtis. “You will take my wife upstairs and confine her to her room. Stay with her. Under no circumstances is she to leave the room.”
“Wife?” Kurtis repeated, his surprise registering.
“Wife,” Keir replied flatly. “The priest just married us.”
He started to move again but Kurtis stopped him. “Wait,” he said. “Keir, Ingilby has the boy at the gate. He is threatening to kill the child immediately unless Chloë is brought out to him.”
Chloë’s brow furrowed. “Child? What child?”
Kurtis was looking at his brother as Keir looked furious and sickened. Giving his brother a long look, he turned to Chloë and forced himself to relax.
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her arms gently, “I want you to listen to me very carefully and with great calm. What I am about to tell you is important and I need your level head. Can you do this?”
Chloë nodded solemnly but Keir suspected she really didn’t mean it. Nonetheless, he continued because there wasn’t much time.
“Do you remember when I went to Wales?” he asked.
Chloë was listening intently. “I do.”
“How much of that do you remember?” when he could see she had no idea what he meant, he tried to explain. “Do you remember what happened after I left?”
Chloë’s brow furrowed as she thought very hard. “I remember that you went to Wales because the king asked it of you,” she said hesitantly, as if it might be a trick question. “I… I am not sure what more you could mean.”
“Do you remember that Ingilby sent a missive to Aysgarth addressed to me?”
She cocked her head. “He sent you a missive?”
“Aye.”
“While you were in Wales?”
“Aye.”
Chloë’s big brown eyes were intense with thought as she struggled to recollect. “Nay,” she finally said. “I am sorry, but I do not remember a missive. Why?”
His big fingers caressed her arms as he spoke. “Ingilby sent a missive, addressed to me, that in essence said he had found my son and wanted to exchange the boy for you,” he watched her features glaze with shock. “You felt that such a decision would destroy me so you sought to make the decision yourself. You sent Ingilby a missive stating that if the boy was indeed Merritt, you would consent to be his bride.”
Her eyes widened. “I did?”
“You did. You truly do not remember any of this?”
She shook her head, with great astonishment, and he could see the tears coming. “I do not remember anything,” she sniffled. “Does he truly have Merritt.”
Keir kissed her on the forehead and gave her a hug, comforting her. “I do not know,” he said, realizing that it was a struggle for him to keep a calm head about such an emotional subject. If the boy really was Merritt, he wasn’t entirely sure how he would react. He’d never really given it much thought because he was convinced Ingilby was lying. “I am going to speak to Ingilby now to tell him that you and I are legally wed. I will negotiate for the boy if it is indeed Merritt.”
Chloë was starting to weep. “If it is him, we must get him back. I cannot believe that Ingilby found him.”
Keir cocked an eyebrow. “Nor can I,” he said with some suspicion. “In fact, it is my belief that he does not have Merritt at all and that it is another trick to try and obtain you.”
Chloë wiped at her eyes, struggling for control. “I want to go with you when you speak with him.”
“Absolutely not.”
She grabbed him. “Keir, it is me he wants. If I sent him this missive as you say I did, then perhaps he needs to hear from my own lips that I….”
Keir cut her off, turning her for the stairs that led to the upper floors. “Nay, Chloë,” he said firmly. “Do not argue with me. Go upstairs and lock yourself in.”
She winced when he pushed her a little too forcefully and aggravated her injured back. Keir saw her flinch and he stopped pushing, returning to the comforting husband when he realized that he’d been a bit too harsh.
“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he kissed her forehead, rubbing at her back gently. “I did not mean to hurt you, but you will do as you are told. Please. I do not have time to argue with you.”
Chloë opened her mouth but her reply was cut off by the sight of her mother, emerging from the
upper floors. Blanche’s intense gaze fell on Chloë and Keir.
“I will go with you, Keir,” Blanche had obviously heard a good deal of their conversation. “Since I sanctioned Chloë’s missive, it is only right that I stand with you in this.”
Keir eyed the woman as she came off the stairs and went straight to her daughter, carefully pulling her into an embrace.
“Although I appreciate your offer, Lady de Geld, you will understand when I say that I will face Ingilby alone, as Chloë’s husband.”
Blanche kissed Chloë on the temple and let her go. “Ridiculous,” she said evenly. “I am responsible for this situation. Let us go now to resolve it.”
By her tone, there was no way Keir was going to keep her from attending him. He just knew it. He grunted with frustration, looking to his wife, who looked rather apologetic for her mother’s forcefulness. Without another word to Blanche, he took Chloë by the hand and directed her towards the stairs once more.
“To your chamber,” he commanded softly, turning to look at his brother. “Go with her for now, but monitor the situation from the window. Watch me; I may have need of you.”
Kurtis nodded sharply, moving to take Chloë by the arm to carefully help her up the stairs. Keir watched Chloë until she disappeared from view, turning for the keep entry only to realize that Blanche was watching him. She was just staring at him, the dark eyes calculating. After a moment, she turned away from him.
“I am satisfied that my daughter has married you,” she said, as close to an approval as she could come. “Now, let us get rid of this nemesis once and for all, shall we?”
“Do you really think we can?”
Blanche eyed him coolly. “I think you can.”
Cocking an eyebrow at the woman, Keir let her take the lead and followed her from the keep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Keir had never actually seen Ingilby, so when the gate of Aysgarth was opened, leaving the big fang-toothed portcullis as a barrier, Keir wasn’t sure who to address. There were a dozen men standing at the gate, all of them in armor, now angrily posturing. In his bloodied tunic and without his armor, Keir came to a halt about ten feet from the portcullis. Blanche stood slightly behind him, partially obscured by the shadows of the gatehouse.
“I would speak with Ingilby,” Keir announced in a booming voice.
The men shuffled on the outside of the portcullis, grumbling, shouting to each other, and in the midst of it emerged a tall man in fine clothing. He had blond hair, graying at the temples, rather cultivated-looking, and he focused his blue eyes on Keir immediately. In fact, he even smiled.
“You must be St. Héver,” he said.
Keir remained cool. “I am,” he replied. “And you are Ingilby.”
Ingilby nodded faintly, his gaze studying Keir very closely. “Finally, I am permitted a glimpse of the man who has come between Lady Chloë and me, and now I see why. She must think you quite handsome.”
Keir thought the comment rather ridiculous given the circumstance, pausing for effect before answering. “So now you have seen me. Is that why you have come? To see if I was more handsome that you are?”
Ingilby, too, stood well back from the portcullis for safety’s sake just as Keir was, so in essence, they ended up speaking very loudly to each other, and there were two armies within ear-shot. When Ingilby was finished studying the enormous warrior standing in the shadow of the gatehouse, he crossed his arms expectantly.
“Not entirely,” he said. “What happened to Alphonse?”
Keir was factual. “As I was bringing him out of the vault with the intention of turning him over to you, unharmed, he felt the need to injure two men and gore another before taking a hostage. He was properly dealt with.”
Ingilby, remarkably, remained cool, which was in stark contrast to the rage he had been in not minutes earlier. The death of Alphonse had him infuriated but the appearance of St. Héver, strangely, calmed him. At least, now he had a look at the man who was standing between him and Chloë de Geld. There was an odd satisfaction in that awareness.
“He was murdered,” Ingilby said simply.
“He was punished.”
“We could debate this all day.”
“Indeed we could, but I am sure that is not your preference. You came to Aysgarth for another reason.”
Ingilby dipped his head. “Indeed I did,” he replied, an almost conversational mood settling. “I have come to accept the terms of Chloë de Geld’s missive. I would like my bride brought to me and I am sure you would like your son delivered to you, so let us move past these trivialities and conduct business.”
Keir remained business-like. “Correct me if I am wrong, but the missive that Lady Chloë replied to was, in fact, addressed to me.”
“It was.”
“She had neither the right nor permission to respond in my stead, making her offer null and void.”
Ingilby lost some of his composure. “She has offered terms and I have accepted.”
Keir’s jaw began to tick but he remained in control. “I would see the boy before we go any further.”
“And I would see Lady Chloë.”
“The boy first.”
“Lady Chloë first.”
Keir shrugged. “I fear we are at an impasse already, for I will not move forward with anything until I see the boy you allege to be my son.”
Ingilby was beginning to lose his cool. He’d come too far and did not take kindly to St. Héver’s obstacles. With a grunt of frustration, he motioned sharply to the men around him and Keir could see more shuffling going on. There were voices, men moving about, and in the midst of it he began to hear a soft, frightened voice.
A man suddenly appeared from back in the crowd carrying a child over his shoulder and as he drew closer, Keir could see that the little figure was bound and there was a sack over his head. The soft sounds of fear were coming from the child and Keir felt his composure slip as the child was dumped roughly on the ground.
“Here he is,” Ingilby said, rather smugly. “Now, you will produce the Lady Chloë.”
Keir crossed his enormous arms, trying not to look too concerned for the softly weeping figure on the ground.
“Remove his hood.”
Ingilby didn’t reply. He just looked at Keir. After a moment, he moved over to the child, now seated on his buttocks, and kicked the child in the leg. The child screamed and fell onto his side, weeping hysterically.
“Bring me Lady Chloë or I will beat your son to death right before your eyes,” Ingilby snapped. “I am finished negotiating. Bring her to me or he dies!”
Keir remained stiff and unmoving, although inside, he was ripe with fury. Before he could respond, Ingilby kicked the boy again and other men joined in, kicking the child as he screamed for mercy. Keir watched with horror for a few long, painful seconds before breaking from his stance and rushing back into the bailey. He began to shout for archers and within seconds, soldiers on the battlements were making tight their bows.
Ingilby and his men heard the call for arms and broke off from the injured boy, running for their lives as the soldiers on the battlements let their arrows fly.
Keir saw that Ingilby’s men were scattering. He bellowed for the portcullis to be lifted and as Ingilby’s men dispersed and arrows rained down, Keir rolled under the small gap between the portcullis and the ground and scrambled to his feet, dodging a hail of arrows to reach the small boy wallowing several feet away. He heaved the child up around the torso and made a break for the portcullis, which had now paused with about a two–foot gap between the iron teeth and the ground below. It was enough space for one person to slide through at a time.
Keir tossed the child under the portcullis and prepared to follow when an arrow suddenly struck him in the back, followed by a second one in the shoulder near his neck. Keir went down as several of Ingilby’s men, with shields slung over their heads, now rushed at Keir from their haven of safety behind several trees. Keir was too injured
to fight them off but he struggled to crawl through the portcullis gap as Blanche, having remained silent throughout his exchange with Ingilby, grabbed the man by a hand and labored to pull him under.
The old woman was yelling for help, surprising for the usually austere lady, but these cries were from the heart and soldiers from the gatehouse joined her as they all attempted to pull Keir underneath the portcullis. The majority of his body was outside of the portcullis, unfortunately, and Ingilby’s men had a better grip on him as a bizarre tug-of-war ensued.
As the brutal struggle progressed, someone inside of Aysgarth shouted for the archers to cease their fire and more men joined in the battle to pull Keir to safety while Ingilby himself had Keir by a leg, yanking with all his might to pull him in the opposite direction. A couple of Aysgarth archers positioned themselves inside the gatehouse and aimed at Ingilby’s men through the portcullis, striking down two of them. Blanche and the other soldiers managed to pull Keir about halfway inside the gatehouse, but someone from Ingilby’s side was smart enough to lash a rope around Keir’s left ankle.
Before those inside Aysgarth realized what had happened, Keir was suddenly yanked out of their grip and went skidding across the dirt and mud, bouncing down the slight incline and out of their line of sight. Horrified, Blanche and the others rushed to the portcullis to see what had become of Keir, and they could see that someone had tied the other end of the rope to a horse which was now running off with Keir in tow. The last they saw of him, he was being pulled off across the road, plowing through an expanse of grass, before disappearing into a cluster of trees.
Blanche screamed until she could scream no more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
There was an abundance of sorrow within the walls of Aysgarth as morning dawned, an ambience not even the bright rays of a new day could erase. It promised to be a brilliant and beautiful day, but the entire castle had a cloud of doom hanging over it that could not be erased. The walls themselves were reeking with sadness as servants and soldiers alike began to move about their tasks, preparing for the new day.
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