A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) (36 page)

They came to a stop and she could hear the men discussing something, but their tones were too low for her to make out what they said.

She kept a keen ear as they walked around to what must have been the rear of the wagon, and then light filtered through the rag. They must have had a covered wagon. One lecherous hand grabbed at her ankle and yanked her toward the edge of the wagon’s bottom. She couldn’t help the yelp that escaped her lips from the pain his action caused.

“She’s awake,” one of the men hissed. As he began to speak she went limp, and when she was lifted allowed her head to hang backward at an odd angle, so they would think she had fainted.

“Not anymore. I ought to yank on ‘er when she needs to be silent every time,” the man who had shouted “there” said with sneer evident in his tone.

She was beginning to recognize the voices now. This was good. Her mind was becoming clearer.

“Carry ‘er in there. Throw ‘er on the bed, but keep yerself away from ‘er,” the man who had said “not anymore” ordered. She would call him their leader, he seemed to be anyway. Now she could count how many of them there were.

No one else spoke for what seemed like hours, but was more likely only minutes. They came into the dwelling, and she was tossed onto some sort of cot. She tried to ignore the feeling of little legs scampering when she landed. As she listened to the sounds of them unloading, she realized that perhaps now would be a good time for her to rest. They were busy setting up to stay here for some time from the sounds of it. She wanted to be able to listen and listen well when they sat down, perhaps to eat or drink more likely.

Lord, I pray to get out of this alive.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Alexander rode like a bat out of hell from the king’s castle and didn’t stop until Hero nearly collapsed, and even then he only borrowed horses from a village, leaving a man to return his horse when Hero was rested. His men all followed, and the king having heard the news from the messenger himself had ordered some of his own men to pack up Alexander’s things and follow.

His earlier fears of someone trying to harm Chloe while he was away had come true, and he prayed to God that he could find her in time.

Why hadn’t he left more specific orders? Why didn’t he have guards standing watch around her bed while she slept? Why hadn’t he thought of the secret passageways in the castle and had them boarded up? He should have brought her with him like she asked.

Questions whirled through his mind, and guilt whipped at his back. He blamed himself for this whole tragic happening. He had felt something like this would happen. He should have followed his instincts and took further precautions.

As he neared Hardwyck Castle, he saw his father’s men gathered in the bailey. Either the messenger had failed to relay that his father was visiting or he had only just arrived. He prayed that it was the latter, since he had yet to tell his father of his decision.

I will find you soon my love,
he vowed to Chloe and himself, before jumping from his horse and then running up the keep stairs two and a time. He burst through the door and into the great hall.

“Edward,” he bellowed, leaning his head all the way back, his arms in the air. The building seemed to shake with the force of the air from his lungs.

At first he did not see his father standing there. He blinked a few times and then walked forward. The earl, usually in an angered fiery state, was in exceptionally rare form. His father stood tall and proud, and then, as if bursting at the seams with joy, he literally ran forward to clasp his son in his grasp.

The breath nearly squeezed out of him, Alexander patted his father on the back a couple of times, and stared at his steward Harold, who now stood behind his father’s back. He raised his eyes to the steward in question, but all Harold could do was raise his shoulders in an equally confused state and shake his head. He was glad his father had let him choose his own servants at Hardwyck.

The earl stepped back from him and Alexander was able to look at him. He’d aged much in the six months since Alexander had seen him last. His hair, which was grey for many years, had lost much of its luster, and thinned tremendously. His face, weathered from years outdoors, was wrinkled all over, giving him a look that was many years older than all his fifty-four years. His eyes had a sunken look. It was obvious to Alexander that the old earl was losing strength and would not be within the land of the living much longer.

He expected to see his father after the fiasco at the South Hearth, but his father had not arrived until now. And now he wasn’t sure how he felt about his father’s arrival. He was distraught over Chloe’s abduction. He couldn’t sit with his father whether he demanded it or not. Edward ran into the great hall just as quickly as Alexander himself had.

“My lord,” was all he said, anguish evident in his voice.

“Edward, we must speak immediately. I apologize father, but I must speak with my man. My betrothed is missing. I must locate her. Harold, gather the servants. I would know everything they know.” He tried to brush past his father, when spindly sharp fingers wrapped around his elbow.

He was through dealing with the old man. He’d had enough. Chloe taught him he was a better man, capable and that he didn’t need his father’s power or wrath to control him.

“Come and sit, my boy, I have much to discuss with you,” his father commanded.

Alexander nodded, placating his father for the moment, while dealing with his racing heart at the same time. He walked to the ornately carved throne chairs that sat facing the large fire, and indicated for his father to follow.

“Edward, gather the knights. Tonight we ride,” Alexander said before sitting down. Time to settle things with his father.

“More wood!” the earl ordered. “These servants of yours aren’t worth their weight! Why have they not built me a great fire? Can’t they see that I am old?” he ranted before collapsing into the chair beside Alexander.

Alexander rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for the trivial rantings of an old man. His mind only had room for Chloe, and he planned to sit with his father, only so he could think, perhaps he could even enlist his father’s help.

“What brings you to Hardwyck father?” Alexander asked, changing the subject.

“Ah, the question of the hour. Where were you?” his father asked, eyeing him up and down.

“There is something I need to discuss with you. My bride, Lady Chloe, has come to Hardwyck. I had gone to the king to petition for the approval of our marriage, and I have now found out that she has been stolen from me.” The anger in him grew as he said the words aloud. And here he sat doing nothing, while she was out being terrorized by some heathens. He stood, no longer able to sit and began to pace the length of the fire, his hands clasped behind his back.

At this, the earl’s eyes narrowed. His lips puckered into a sneer. Alexander hadn’t expected much better than this reaction to his news. All the same, he felt the fury in him close to exploding. All his life he’d done his father’s bidding. The man had disregarded anything Alexander had ever cared for, including his own mother. He felt the blood in his veins go from hot to cold and back again. If he didn’t leave soon, he would lose control, and his father would be on the receiving end of his wrath. That would only anger the king, and right now, the last thing he needed was to be at odds with King Henry.

“So the treacherous little chit decided to come forward. No doubt she was afraid to lose her head over this. Well, she shall. She came too late!” He struck his fist onto the arm of the throne chair.

Alexander sucked in his breath, fear immediately gripping him. Why did he have the sudden premonition that his father was behind Chloe’s disappearance? Lord, help him. If his father was the culprit, than she could be dead already. His heart constricted, and he nearly choked on his fear. He would not allow his father to take her from him.

Alexander slammed his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of his father, his face coming within inches of the old man. “What have you done?” Alexander’s voice was low and threatening.

At first his father look shocked, but then a smug, evil countenance came over him. Alexander was taken aback, he stood, his stance battle ready, and reached for the sword at his side.

A look of surprise crossed his father’s face quickly before replacing itself with a sneer of triumph.

“What have I done?” His father sat forward, his hands on his knees as if he would stand, but he only stayed in that position. “What have you done gallivanting around with a traitor? Ruining your own family name. You have the nerve to ask what I have done?” his father hissed before falling into a fit of coughing.

“She had no idea about the order from the King, nor the treason her parents committed. She is an innocent, and I intend to honor our previous agreement. I have done nothing dishonorable, and I have the king’s back in this matter.” He stepped forward, this time he pulled his sword from its sheath, the steel glinting with light from the fire. His father looked at the weapon and then back at Alexander. His eyes held challenge. He believed Alexander wouldn’t harm him. But the question was, did Alexander believe it? “I ask you again, what have you done with my bride?”

The Earl sputtered, obviously shocked Alexander would stand up to him.

“You dare to tell me who you will marry? Do you not remember who is earl? You are
my
vassal. I could strip you of all you will inherit. Do you dare to defy me, over some worthless female?”

“Aye father, I remember you are earl. But I remain loyal above all others to King Henry, who has agreed to the union.” Alexander knelt, his face coming within inches of his father’s. The old man was so decrepit and small. Alexander towered over the shriveled relic of a man. “I would marry her whether as the future Earl of Northumberland, or as a penniless knight with a few holdings. Either way, I intend to have her. Do you defy your king?” Alexander was not going to back down.

He had given his word to Chloe, and right now he could imagine her at the mercy of whoever held her, possibly his own father, waiting for him to come and fetch her. For all her innocence, she had a hard edge, and an unforgiving one. He hoped that she’d be able to use it to her advantage and keep herself alive. He would find her and save her, and he would not let her down.
I love her.
There was no way he would tell his father his feelings. The man, so unhappy, would no doubt send out henchmen that moment to strike her down, should he find out that his son had feelings for the woman.

How was it possible, with a man like the Earl of Northumberland as his father, that Alexander had not grown insane? How did he turn out half-way decent and with a heart to boot?

His father stared at him with new eyes. They were not friendly, quite the opposite, he could see rage burning behind the dark holes, see that the earl was now planning a punishment for Alexander, for Chloe. He had to make his father understand, and force him to reveal Chloe’s whereabouts, if indeed he had her at all. And she better damned well be alive.

The man breathed rapidly through clenched teeth but did not respond. Alexander stood and stepped back, hoping that his show of respect would persuade his father to tell him what he needed to know.

“It is a matter of pride. I must honor our family, in that it was said I would marry her to keep the peace. We have her land. Why not continue with our end of the bargain?” Alexander questioned, hoping that his father might turn his mind around and reveal where he’d hidden Chloe.

“Bah! Do not let the eyes of one meaningless chit take your mind, or rather, your cock away from what really matters. She is nothing, even if she tells you she knew nothing, she lies. I have heard much of her, and she only came here to poison your mind and ruin your people. The king is blind if he thinks that this girl is the right one for you. I will speak to King Henry. I have taken it upon myself to right this situation. She will be punished and it will be her death, and you will be the one to end her life, Lord Hardwyck, the Dragon,” his father hissed at him, rancid hate coming out of his mouth.

She was still alive. Anger rose through Alexander quickly like the current in the river of a storm. How could his father have done this? He had gone too far this time. The sound that escaped from his throat, resounded off of walls and sent several of the servants from the room. He heard a unilateral clank of metal and realized that all of his knights that had gathered in the great hall now stood behind him, swords drawn and at the ready.

“Father, where is she?” Alexander grasped him by the shoulders and began to shake. The earl’s head flopped back and forth like a doll and he began to cough and sputter. When Alexander set him right it looked as though the devil himself were staring at him.

“What’s done is done. You’ll move on. Forget the Scots twit. She wouldn’t make you happy anyway. Have you already defiled the girl? Good for you she won’t go to hell a virgin. Pity we should put to death a woman who possibly carries an heir,” the earl said not even bothering to wait for answers. The old man stood emotionless, his eyes like two empty orbs straight from purgatory and beyond. He was oblivious to the crowd of seething men at arms who were hungry to dispatch of him. “You will never find her, Alexander. I have her secreted away in a place worse than any nightmare, with men who wish to eat her alive. Death will come before I whisper where she may be.”

Alexander could only stare at his father in disbelief. How could this man truly be his blood?

Evil, vile man. When I become earl, I will certainly not let myself succumb to such hatred.

Alexander motioned to Edward, before he did something he would later regret—like murder his own father. “Take him to the tower, and throw his men in the dungeon,” his voice was devoid of emotion.

“You do not dare to imprison me,” the earl growled.

“Oh, aye, I do. I will send a messenger to the king to let him know that I have done so and why. He will support me. You have made a grave mistake father, and you will pay for it. You and your men will be locked away until you tell me where my bride is. And if you do not, then death will not come swift and sweet. You will wish you had never come here. You will beg for your journey to hell to commence.”