A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) (37 page)

Alexander turned and left the keep, ignoring his father’s shouts and threats. He needed to think. He walked to Chloe’s garden and sat amongst the sweet smelling herbs and flowers. He would wait a few more minutes before returning to the keep. Once his orders were followed, he would speak to the knights and servants. Someone had to know something.

He couldn’t lose her. He had never felt such a connection with a woman before. His feelings were so overpowering, he felt weak at the sight of her.

He had truly met his match, his soul mate. He never had conversations like the ones he shared with Chloe. She didn’t feel inferior to him. She felt like his equal. When they talked she had no problem telling him what she thought was wrong, and what he should do about it. She had so many opinions about the way he should run the village, and how he should treat the people. And he agreed with her, looked forward to her council.

Once he’d brought up the fact that she had lived with her parents, who from what he could tell treated their people worse than he did, especially their own daughter. She had taken exception to this, and had become angry at him. Their argument had been fierce, and she had stormed off saying she never wanted to see him again, that she would rather live out her days as a commoner, than spend another waking moment with him. Alexander had panicked, and felt like a part of him was walking away. He was physically ill thinking about not having her by his side for the rest of his days. He’d run after her, grabbing her arm, and begging forgiveness. She’d averted her eyes, but the moment she turned back their gazes locked and they’d both melted. He took her into his arms, told her he loved her and kissed the anger right out of her.

He trusted his men, especially Edward and Harold. He knew they would give anything for him. He had their loyalty. Although his father was an earl, Edward and Harold had always sworn to uphold his loyalty even if that meant going against his father.

In the last few years he’d become so fierce, a real fighter, a punisher, a dragon as his men called him. Yet, when Chloe had come into his life, everything had changed. He was still a force to be reckoned with, but he cared more for his people then he did before.

He shook his head. The woman had completely changed him. Before a bride meant to beget an heir, now it meant more. It meant companionship, someone to help him rule his people. It meant love.

He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, giving off the same feeling he had in his heart. Like hell itself was chasing at his heels.

He stood and walked back to the great hall. It was time to find out as much as he could, and then he and his men would ride. He wanted her back in his arms tonight. He couldn’t wait longer than that. He had to know she was safe and with him.

Commotion at the foot of the keep averted his attention. A man was bent over, breathing deeply, surrounded by Alexander’s men.

“What’s going on?” Alexander demanded.

“My lord, when I was out tending the sheep, I saw three men. I hid from them, borrowed a neighbor’s work horse and followed them a bit, in case they were going to cause trouble—they didn’t look like they belonged. Real sneaky they was. I heard them speak.” He took a deep breath, his words coming fast. “I heard them speak of the booty they had in the back of their wagon. They spoke of Lady Chloe.”

“You will lead us to where you saw them.” Before the words were out of his mouth, Edward rode up on his horse, twenty knights behind him. Alexander nodded to Edward, mounted his horse and ordered the peasant onto the horse of his knight, Sir Brendan.

While he rode fast out of the village, he looked toward the sky and thanked God for leading this man to him. Then he thanked God again for sending someone as compassionate to the village as Chloe. For, had it not been for her and her kind heart, he doubted that this peasant would have come forward with the news of his sighting.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Henrys sat in a ball on the floor of the tower cell. He could hear through the tiny window in the room the sound of knights riding out.

They will find her.

He repeated the conversation—or rather argument—that he had with his son over and over again in his mind. If anyone could find her it would be Alexander.

He coughed and spewed blood over the front of his tunic. He was cold with no fire to warm him, and the stones underneath his old bones where he sat, froze his blood.

He had never seen Alexander so determined, so furious. His son always obeyed him. He had worried that this traitor would ruin their name, and sworn to avenge his son for being used and then punish him for his empty head. But Alexander said the king was on his side.

The king has his back. I will be the one punished.

Henrys had thought to live out the few days he had left in comfort—before consumption overtook him. Now it appeared he would be living those days inside of the tower cell. Unless the king had other plans for him. His death could be ordered in the next two days.

Henrys had always thought he had the ear of King Henry. He had so many lands, titles and riches that the king usually was on his side, and wanted to please him. However now, if what Alexander said about the king was true, then he, Henrys, was lost. It appeared his own flesh and blood had usurped him. How ironic since he’d done the same to his own father.

The king would not take lightly to him abducting his son’s betrothed, especially if he just approved of their marriage. His majesty didn’t like people to counteract him. And with as much power as Henrys held, the king may see it as a rebellion, which would mean certain death.

Henrys’ head fell back against the cool wall, a sharp pain from a protruding piece of rock split down the back of his skull. He touched the spot, his fingers coming away filled with blood. He had his answer. He now knew how he could escape his son, the king and the consumption that threatened his life. He would rather kill himself then be executed.

The guards who’d thrown him in the tower in their haste to find their mistress had not removed the dirk kept in his belt. He pulled the blade from its sheath, looked straight ahead and prayed for forgiveness, for taking one’s own life was a mortal sin. Not that the life he’d led wouldn’t send him to fiery depths of hell anyway.

He smiled realizing if Alexander failed, Chloe’s whereabouts would remain a mystery that Henrys would take to his grave.

He closed his eyes, folded his fingers tightly over the handle of the dirk, and thrust it with all his might into his heart. His fingers clutched tight to one another, his teeth clenched, as the pain he caused himself coursed through him.

His body grew weak, his blood pooling on the ground around him. He slumped to the floor, and took one last ragged breath.

****

Chloe awoke to the sound of the men whispering to each other. Her body which had ached, was now tingly with numbness. Her wrists and ankles were bound so tight. She’d laid there for what felt like days, but in actuality she wasn’t sure how long, she’d completely lost track of time. Every once in awhile they’d feed her a vile brew that stayed her hunger and made her sleep.

But now, the drugged liquid had worn off. How many days had she lain here?

She kept her breathing even, and tried to hear what the men said as she deliberately willed her fingers to wiggle. She reached with semi-numb fingers to feel the knot at her wrists. She moved her wrists slowly, trying hard to loosen the tightly bound rope.

“What are we to do with ‘er?”

“Yeah, boss, I’d like a little piece of ‘er.”

“The earl didn’t say anything about not touchin’ ‘er boys. We’re just supposed to be holdin’ ‘er ‘ere until he sends us word,” the leader said.

The earl? Alexander’s father had been behind her abduction? She was right. He did want to finish her off.

“She’s a feisty one. I’d like to get my hands on ‘er, maybe all three of us at once.”

So there were three of them, and she didn’t like the way the conversation was going. Her skin prickled with renewed fear. She wiggled her wrists a little quicker, trying not to move too much, she didn’t want it to be obvious that she was awake. She was a little surprised she was still alive and as yet, untouched. But it was too much to hope they wouldn’t eventually defile her.

The men chuckled some more, their lecherous laughs sending chills down her spine. If only she could get her hands free, then she could get to the small dagger she kept tied around her thigh. They’d been stupid enough not to remove it.

One of the men’s hot breaths wafted over her face, and she became still. His breath smelled foul and rotten. She resisted the urge to gag and instead held her breath.

“Wake up my lady, or should I call ye the lord’s whore? We all knows ye ain’t no lady, ye treacherous little chit. Wake up now, ‘tis time to entertain yer captors.”

He stroked a nasty, rough hand down the side of her face and further down her neck, then stopped. He tugged on the rag covering her eyes, and then light filtered through her closed lids. She didn’t want to give into him, and show him her eyes, she wanted to stay asleep, wished she was. She was helpless, bound so tight, there was nothing she could do to protect herself from this venomous man.

Then his fingers were on her wrists and hands as he untied the rope, and moved slower still. His nasty hands stroked her calves as he untied the rope that bound her ankles. Sweet relief filled her at finally being mobile, but involuntarily she shuddered in disgust at the exploration his hands were doing.

“See that boys? She twitches at my touch. I might just have more fun than I thought.” His putrid breath was hot on her face and then his slimy tongue licked a path from her chin to her ear. “Ye awake little lady? Twitch for me again.” He breathed into her ear as his hands slowly stroked the length of her calf again and slowly moved upward, over her knee and to her thigh.

Oh, God! More vile men were coming!
She’d be forced to endure the molestation of scores of swain!

One man made quick work of tying her hands and ankles back up. When they retreated from the room, she chanced to open her lids a sliver, the light from the fire and candles nearly blinding her.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, she opened her eyes wide and took in her surroundings. It was a one room hut, and she lay on a dirty cot. God only knew what else lay with her. A small fireplace held a pot, and four stools sat precariously around a small wooden table. There were no windows.

She couldn’t waste any time. Lord knew when they’d return and she wasn’t about to wait for them. Luckily for her the man had tied her hands in front of her, and he didn’t do a very good job of it. With sore fingers she worked at the knots at her wrists, feeling awkward and frustrated when they would appear to get loose and then tighten again. She used her teeth, and finally what seemed an interminably long time later, she was able to get her hands free, and untie her ankles.

Slowly she stood, her legs almost giving way. She shook her limbs back to life and then tiptoed to the door. She had no idea where she was, but she had to get out. Shuffling with her nightdress she ripped the dagger from its sheath and held it in a deathlike grip. She had to leave these despicable criminals behind. If she couldn’t find her way back to Hardwyck, perhaps some kind soul would take mercy on her and help her to get there.

She put her ear to the door and listened. Were the vagrants right outside? She heard nothing, and painstakingly slow, she opened the door a crack to peek through. The light of day outside had begun to fade, but there was enough for her to see the men were not immediately in the vicinity. Judging from the pink inky hues overhead, darkness would soon fall.

Chloe opened the door a little further and looked to see where they may have tethered their horses. Across a small clearing, littered with wood cut for a fire, broken pots, piles of rubbish, empty tipped over barrels she spied a horse tied to a tree leading into the forest. Her captors must have taken the other horses when they went to meet their accomplices.

They’d really taken her to the middle of nowhere. The hut was placed right in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by forest, and it was doubtful anyone would come to her rescue if she screamed. There were no sounds of a neighboring village, no echoes of an axe chopping wood, or children playing in a spring. The wild beat of horse’s hooves she’d heard moments before stopped, only making the fear in her heart and body resonate exponentially. Her heart beat rapidly, echoing loudly in her ears. Only silence accompanied with the sounds of nature. Shadows lurked everywhere. And from the corners of her eyes, her mind played tricks on her, making every movement of the wind and trees appear to be one of her captors pouncing on her.

Taking a chance she stepped outside, her body stiff as she stood still and listened, her dagger poised to strike. A breeze ruffled her nightdress sending chills up and down her limbs.
Dear Lord!
She was more frightened then she’d ever been in her life. She didn’t care that she was half naked, she needed to get out of here and quick. She didn’t see or hear anyone. With one deep breath, Chloe made a mad dash to the horse and stood behind it for a moment to listen. Had they heard her? The horse whinnied and she shushed him with soothing words, rubbing her hand softly over his warm mane, over his back and down his flank.