Chloë was kicking and twisting, trying to release his hold on her. “I do not belong to you yet,” she snarled. “We had a bargain and unless you can provide me with proof that Keir is alive and free, I shall not make this easy for you. Not one bit!”
With that, she chomped down on the hand that was gripping her forearm and Ingilby howled. It was enough of a lapse to force him to release her at least partially, and as Chloë tumbled to the ground near the round room that led to the stairs, the front door of the keep slammed back on its hinges and men began pouring in. Ingilby was reaching down for Chloë when a dirk sailed past his chin, nicking him before crashing into the stone wall beyond.
Startled, Ingilby turned towards the source of the flying dirk. Torn between reclaiming his weapon or reclaiming his captive, he opted for the woman. Surely men with swords would think twice before striking him if he held her in a compromising position. It was a confident decision that was about to cost him.
Keir and Kurtis were rushing towards him, broadswords at the ready. Chloë, scrambling to get away from Ingilby, looked up to see her husband in full battle armor running at her. Struck with shock and relief at a sight she never truly thought she would ever see again, she screamed.
“Keir!”
Keir was almost on top of her, straining against wounds and injury to save her from Ingilby, who was closer to his wife than he was. As he feared, Ingilby grabbed hold of Chloë’s foot and yanked her towards him just as Keir reached her. Throwing his arms around his wife’s upper torso, he yanked hard and prayed he didn’t break any bones in the process. Chloë yelped at the shock of the jolt but it was enough for her boot to slip free. Keir pulled her right out of her shoe, leaving Ingilby only holding her boot as Kurtis descended on the man and shoved a broadsword into his gut.
Ingilby let out a blood-curdling scream as he sank to the stone, his hands over the wound that was pouring blood down his leg and onto the floor. Without any sympathy whatsoever, Kurtis kicked him over onto his back and gored him again.
“That,” he snarled, “is for abducting my brother, you worthless bastard. I hope your death pains you all the way to hell.”
Wrapped up in Keir’s arms, Chloë was gasping hysterically. Her fear, her surprise, was overwhelming her and she was close to hyperventilating. She couldn’t feel much of Keir other than his armor and the bulk of his body, but when he started kissing her face furiously, the fear began to fade and the elation took hold. Hysterical gasping turned into pants of joy.
“Are you well, sweetheart?” Keir’s voice was trembling as he stopped kissing her long enough to try and get a look at her left arm. “Is your wrist doing well? Did someone tend it?”
Chloë’s happy gasps began to turn teary as she touched Keir’s face, feeling his warmth, seeing for herself that he was indeed alive and well. There was such jubilation in her heart that she could scarcely describe it.
“I am well,” she insisted, more concerned for him than she was for herself. “Are you well? They said that they tied a horse to you and pulled you out….”
He cut her off with a trembling, brutal kiss. “Not to worry,” he whispered, bumping her with the raised visor of his helm as he kissed her again. “I am well, Chloë. I am perfectly well. All that matters is you and how you are feeling. I was terrified that I would be too late for… for whatever Ingilby was planning. Was I too late, sweet?”
There was such happiness and relief enveloping them, like a warm fog that bound them, flowed through them, and eased them. It was comfort on an immeasurable level, relief now that the madness was finally over. Chloë had her arms tightly around his armored neck as if to never let him go.
“He never touched me,” she assured him softly. “But I believe that was what he was planning when you and Kurtis came to my rescue. Thank God you came when you did.”
As if suddenly remembering Kurtis, they turned to look at the man as he stood a few feet away over Ingilby’s supine form. Chloë looked at the body on the floor for a couple of seconds before looking away; she didn’t want to see anymore. It was a gruesome sight. Keir, however, lingered on the body a few moments before addressing his brother.
“Is he dead?” he asked.
Kurtis was looking down at Ingilby as he spoke. “He is,” he said, turning to look at his brother and Chloë. “For the fact that he abducted you and for the fact that he can no longer be a threat to your wife, I am happy to end his life. The last time, when there was a threat to Madeleine, I could do nothing for you, Keir. That has haunted me in ways you cannot imagine. But this time… to protect my younger brother in every way that I can, I am happy to do this. While I had breath in my body, you were not going to lose Chloë as you did Maddie. I told you I would never see you go through that hell again and I meant it.”
Keir could see the anguish in Kurtis’ eyes. “You never told me how you felt,” he said softly.
Kurtis turned away from Ingilby, moving to where Keir and Chloë were all wrapped up in each other. His gaze lingered on the pair, so deeply happy and so deeply in love. “Did I have to?” he murmured. “We are brothers. Your pain is my pain.”
“I can never thank you enough.”
“You would have done the same for me.”
Leaning over, Kurtis kissed Chloë on the cheek and made his way out of the great hall, which was now secured by Aysgarth troops. Chloë watched the man go with tears in her eyes.
“It was not just for you,” she whispered. “What he did… he saved me, too.”
Keir watched her pale face as she spoke, still coming to grips with the fact that she was safe and whole, and their nightmare was over. He could hardly believe it. Carefully, he lifted her into his arms and began to carry her out of the keep.
“My brother has always been dear to me,” he said quietly. “Perhaps today… he is just a little more dear.”
Chloë held him tightly around the neck, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “Can we go home now?”
“Of course, sweetheart.”
“I mean to Pendragon.”
“So do I.”
As the siege of Ripley wound down and men began to pick up the pieces, Keir took his wife outside into the deepening evening.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Two weeks later
Pendragon Castle
“He seems to want to participate, but I am not sure he knows how,” Keir was standing with Michael in the bailey of Pendragon as dusky shades of sunset loomed overhead. “I have given him chores, which he accomplishes easily, but he still seems very fearful of us.”
Michael lifted his eyebrows at Aust as he emerged from the stables with a heavy bucket in one hand. “Summer seems to think it will take a good deal of time for him to become comfortable with us,” he said. “Ingilby and his men beat the boy badly. He trusts no one.”
Keir watched the lad lug the water bucket to a horse that was tethered outside of the stable. “I have spent so much time looking at that little face,” he muttered. “I can say for certain that he is not Merritt, but then there are days when I look at him and he seems familiar. I am only being wishful, I am sure. What do you think?”
Michael was somewhat hesitant. “Like you, sometimes I think I see something familiar,” he replied. “What does Chloë say?”
“Since the boy cannot remember who or where he comes from, that we must keep him and raise him as our own.”
Michael grunted. “She has a point.”
“But somewhere, this child’s parents are missing him. I should be doing everything in my power to return him home but I do not even know where to start. He cannot tell us where he comes from. I could be searching for years.”
Michael sighed faintly. “A dilemma, to be certain,” he agreed. “What did Kurtis say before he left?”
“The same thing Chloë said.”
“Then perhaps the boy has found a new family.”
As Michael and Keir debated the fate of the young lad, inside the keep, Chloë and Summer were up i
n the master’s bower of Pendragon going through the last of Madeleine’s possessions.
Upon returning to the castle, Keir had asked Chloë to go through his dead wife’s belongings to see if there was anything she wished to have. The rest would be stored or discarded. Although there was still sorrow at Madeleine’s passing, for both Keir and Chloë, they were both ready to move forward with their new life together and part of that was removing Madeleine’s possessions from the master bower and packing them away. It was the signal of a new beginning, especially for Keir. He was happier than he had ever been. He knew Madeleine would have approved.
For the past two weeks, the situation had been calm and wonderful. Ingilby was no longer a threat, Cassandra and Kurtis had returned to Northumberland, and Sir Garran, although still very weak and recovering, had given permission for Michael and Summer to marry. They did, in an intimate little ceremony at Aysgarth, before returning to Pendragon with Chloë and Keir.
Chloë had dutifully asked her parents to accompany them as well, but Blanche and Anton opted to remain at Aysgarth with the very new and very timid Lady de Tiegh. Perhaps they thought the young woman needed their guidance as she assumed the Aysgarth barony, or perhaps they didn’t feel comfortable living in their daughter’s new home after all of the grief Anton had caused Keir and Chloë. Whatever the case, they had remained behind, along with Garran because he could not travel. Although Michael and Summer were currently at Pendragon, they would soon be returning to Aysgarth where Michael would take charge of her armies.
Chloë was glad that Summer and Michael had come with them to Pendragon. She missed Cassandra dreadfully and Summer was a lovely substitute. The pair had accompanied Keir and Chloë back to their new home mostly because Summer insisted on helping the newlyweds settle in, but they all knew it truly wasn’t necessary. Summer and Chloë had formed a bond and the women simply wanted to be together. Keir and Michael didn’t complain; like old times, they were together, traveling, living, laughing and loving. Life was good once more.
Therefore, on this rather mild spring day in the early evening, everyone at Pendragon had something to do. As Keir and Michael completed tasks down in the bailey with little Aust, Summer and Chloë worked in the keep. Chloë treated the packing of Madeleine’s belonging with great care and compassion, carefully going through the items one at a time, and making note of each. There were several chests to go through and a giant wardrobe, and most of the garments still had a faint musty scent of smoke.
At one point in that late afternoon, Summer came across a chest that contained nothing but baby clothes, so Chloë and Summer sat on the floor and pulled out every little piece, admiring them as well as inspecting them for durability. After all, someday they hoped to have their own children and Chloë was sure that Madeleine would not have minded if they used the clothing. Everything had been carefully and lovingly stitched.
“There is certainly a good deal of clothing,” Summer commented as she folded a neat little pile of tunics. “There is enough here for several children all at the same time.”
Chloë giggled. “Keir mentioned that it took a long time for Madeleine to become pregnant with Frances,” she said. “Perhaps she passed the time by sewing infant clothing and hoping for a child to put them on.”
“She must have sewed for years.”
“At the very least.”
Summer smiled as she held up a dressing gown that was exquisitely embroidered. “But the results are beautiful,” she said, lowering the gown to fold it. She sobered as she worked. “Michael told me what happened to Madeleine and Frances. What a horrible thing.”
Chloë’s smile faded. “Horrible indeed,” she agreed softly. “Keir has been through much tragedy in his life. It is a memory I hope to erase.”
“Did it happen in this room?”
“Nay,” Chloë said softly. “The room across the hall. That is where the children slept.”
Summer nodded sadly, putting the neatly folded gown into another pile. As she did so, she caught something out of the corner of her eye and glanced up. Chloë began to say something to her when she noticed that Summer was staring off into the corner of the room, looking rather strange. Reflexively, Chloë turned in the same direction.
A little girl stood in the shadows of the room. It was difficult to see her for the most part, but the portion of her body that was out of the shadow and into the weak sunlight was non-existent, while the other portion in the shadow was pale and shady, like a fog with some definition. Her facial features were clear, the jaw strong and square, the dark circled eyes. She just stood there, staring.
Shocked, Chloë’s breathing began to quicken, realizing she was looking at the little lost ghost girl once again. She hadn’t seen her in so long she’d forgotten about her, but here she was once again. More than that, Chloë realized that she was appearing in a different room, not the children’s room across the hall as she had before. Perhaps speaking of her had caused her to appear; whatever the case, Chloë wasn’t fearful in the least. She very much wanted to help the child find peace. The fact that she remained where she had died spoke volumes of a restless death.
As Summer shifted beside her, perhaps to run away, Chloë put her hand on the woman’s arm and held her fast.
“Frances?” Chloë said softly. “Sweetheart, is it you? Please do not be afraid. We will not hurt you.”
The ghostly little girl faded somewhat before returning, with more definition than before. She seemed to move, undulating, a few inches towards them. Now she was completely in the shadows of the dim room and difficult to make out.
“Me-Me,” she said.
The voice was odd, raspy, with an almost echo-type of quality. It was startling and eerie. Next to Chloë, Summer gasped, but Chloë squeezed her arm tightly to quiet her.
“Do you want Me-Me, sweetheart?” Chloë asked softly. “I do not know where he is. Can… can you help me find him?”
The little girl didn’t move for a moment, nor did she speak. She simply stood there, fading in and out, eventually becoming more of a mist than a discernible figure. Chloë could sense that she was leaving them and she let go of Summer, rising to her knees as she moved towards the phantom child.
“Please, Frances,” she murmured. “If you know where Me-Me is, please help me find him. Can you tell me?”
The little girl remained in the shadows, the mist rising and falling. It was like watching a figure underwater, the lines of her body distorted. She started to move towards the massive wardrobe.
“Me-Me,” she said again.
Chloë was on her knees, following the phantom. “Frances, please tell me where he is. I want to help find Me-Me.”
By this time, the ghostly girl was near the wardrobe, the massive thing that had contained all of Madeleine’s possession, untouched since that horrible day. The phantom paused as she came upon it, her black eyes intense. Chloë wasn’t sure if she was focusing on her, or even if she was actually looking at her. Then, the gray mist stopped undulating. It seemed to become very clear as it stood in front of the wardrobe. As Chloë and Summer watched, spell-bound, the small figure disappeared into the wardrobe doors.
“With thee,” her spooky little voice faded off, “I now sleep….”
The room was very still and silent as Chloë and Summer continued to stare at the wardrobe, stunned by what they had just witnessed. Chloë didn’t even look at Summer; she was still fixated on the wardrobe. Shooting to her feet, she raced to the heavy oak furniture, well made and of excellent quality, and threw open the doors.
She gasped as she was hit by the smell of Frances, the same scent she had smelled before when the spirit of the child had passed through her in those weeks past. It was sweet and earthy. Seized with the desire to seek what the phantom girl was trying so hard to communicate, she began tossing out the stacks of clothing she and Summer had already gone through. Shifts and fine silks ended up in a pile on the floor as Chloë madly ripped them clear of the wardrobe. She had no
idea why she was doing it, only that something was telling her to. She was nearly frantic with the knowledge. There had to be a reason why Frances’ little spirit was wandering around, looking for her Me-Me. Perhaps there was a clue here, something they’d missed as they….
The last garment she ripped out of the wardrobe was snagged on the bottom panel of the cabinet. When Chloë yanked hard, part of the panel pulled up. Untangling the snag, Chloë tossed the garment on the ground and pulled up on the floor panel of the wardrobe. As the plank came up, she saw that there was a hidden compartment in the base of the wardrobe. It wasn’t very big, perhaps the length and width of the wardrobe and about a foot and a half deep.
As the panel came free and she could see the entire compartment, she let out a shriek and her hands flew to her mouth. Shock and grief hit her like a smack to the face and she burst into tears. She was horrified, unable to look away, as a sad and heartbreaking vision lay before her.
Lying inside the compartment was the decomposed body of a small child.
*
Michael was very close to sending word to Kurtis to return to Pendragon but he fought the urge, waiting and watching as the tragedy played itself out. The situation was heartbreaking.
Kneeling beside the massive wardrobe, he alternated between inspecting the decomposed corpse of Merritt St. Héver and watching Keir deal with his grief. Wrapped up in Chloë’s arms with his head buried against her pale bosom, he seemed to be doing a remarkable job of holding himself together. Certainly, Keir’s initial response had been one of pain and dismay. But once those emotions blew through him in the initial explosion, he seemed to grow oddly calm, as if finally, he had the answer he had been seeking all of these years. At least now he knew. As a father, he was comforted by that. But also as a father, the death of his son had him deeply grieving.
“Madeleine must have hidden him here,” Michael was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together because Keir didn’t seem capable of deductive reasoning at the moment. “’Tis the only answer that makes sense. When Lord Stain breached Pendragon, she must have known it was only a matter of time before the keep was compromised, so she tried to hide the children. Merritt fit well in the heavy wardrobe in this secret compartment, but there wasn’t enough room for Frances. Madeleine and Frances were then forced to take their chances and perished before they could release Merritt from his hiding place.”
England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 161
