Candle in the Window (37 page)

With silent profundity, he reflected on how rapidly
she could turn his sentiment to vexation. “You’re a
nag, do you know that?”

She stood and shook out her skirts.
“I’ve been called worse things,” she assured him,
“but not by better men.”

He grunted and dragged himself up. “Do you
think to flatter me with compliments?”

“I think we’d better climb that cliff
above us,” she answered.

Startled, he studied her wide, innocent eyes and
mobile mouth. “How did you know there was a cliff?”

“You would have never let me sleep if it had
been an easy walk to the top.”

“You’re an annoying woman. I should
leave you here.” He studied the boulder blocking the way into
the cave and sighed. “But I can’t.”

“I’ll be fine, William.” She
reached out and stroked his cheek. “We’ll be
fine.”

They were fine.

William lay on the coarse grass at the top of the
cliff and held it clutched in his fists and panted. They were fine,
except for the sweat that poured down his sides and the heart that
beat out of his chest. Saura was fine. She’d been gallant,
patient, awaiting his instructions before moving hand or foot,
never faltering when he’d had to go on ahead and gouge a tiny
toehold out of the bluff. She hadn’t complained about the
heat, although the afternoon sun beating on the unrelenting rock
had baked them. She didn’t seem to realize, although he
warned her, that the slightest slip could end in a long fall.
She’d just smiled and said, “’Tis not falling
that worries me. ’Tis landing.”

He’d been in no mood for levity.

Now she sat just a little away from him, the sea
wind blowing the chalk from her hair, waiting for him to recover
from his fright. He didn’t see the care with which she lifted
the
end of her sleeve to wipe the perspiration
from her forehead before she asked, “William, are you
well?”

“Aye.” He turned his head and studied
her. “Are you?”

She clasped her hands. They trembled slightly, and
she tucked them into her lap. “My hands are sore from
gripping the stones and I have a few bristles imbedded in my palm,
but compared to—”

“Don’t!” He reached out and shook
her knee. “Don’t even say it.”

“Husband.” Catching his hand when he
would retrieve it, she stroked it in both of hers. “You must
stop worrying. We’re at the top now, ’tis time to move
on.”

“Most women would have been hysterical about
such a climb. How can you be so calm?” He found himself
perturbed by her unfailing good humor. Didn’t she realize
that nothing, absolutely nothing else he had to do, would compete
with that crawl up the cliff?

“I never doubted you would bring me to the
top.” She paused to invest her words with significance.
“You would never let anyone or anything endanger me. I trust
you.”

“Trust! What has trust to do….”
His words trailed off, and he sat up. Catching her chin in his
hand, he questioned, “Trust?”

A slight smile danced about her lips, and she
veiled her eyes shyly. “Trust,” she confirmed.

He discovered he could knock down Cran Castle with
his bare hands, stand flat-footed in the bailey and toss Charles
over the curtain wall, and gallop to Burke with Saura on his back,
sans horse.

“You trust me to take care of you?”

“Eternally.”

“We have to go now,” he murmured,
entranced by his wife’s confession.

“I know.” She sounded vague. “If
Nicholas should find us lying on the grass….”

Like the jolt of a lightning flash, her words
brought clarity back to him. “Correct.” He stood,
pulling her up after him. “We have to go. I must find a place
close by where I can hide you.”

“Hide me?” She jogged along behind him.
“I thought I’d go with you.”

He chuckled. “Foolish love. I couldn’t
care for you in a fight. There may be many men against me. It will
take all my concentration to defend myself and destroy
Nicholas.”

Tugging at his hand, she said, “Nay. Nay,
we’ll just run and keep running.”

“Nicholas has horses and men and a thorough
knowledge of this land. He’d find us.” He glanced
around at the flat, clear land and grimaced. “’Twould
be too easy, I fear. There’s that pile of rocks.”

She set her heels and jerked him around. Knitting
her brow fiercely, she yelled, “You can’t fight a
castle of men by yourself!”

“Now, dearling,” he soothed. “I
was with Charles when I realized you were right, did I tell
you?”

“Did you tell me I was right? Nay, somehow
that slipped from our conversation.”

She resisted as he pulled her underneath his
shoulder, but he dragged her along beside him. “Aye, Charles
was quite indignant that I thought he’d try to kill me in
such a cowardly manner. It humbled me to be so wrong.”

“Oh, you are humble,” she agreed
sarcastically.

“And some of the incidents he told me about
Nicholas cleared my mind. He’s mad, you know.”

“Nicholas?” She nodded. “Aye, he
is. And quite without logic.”

“Nasty little piece, aren’t you?”
Savoring her wit, he hugged her in a sweep that lifted her from her
feet, and when he put her down she stopped struggling against his
briskness and walked at his side. “You’re
cooperating,” he said in surprise.

“I can take a hint.” She ducked out
from under his arm as his grip loosened and took his elbow.
“You’ll carry me if I don’t.”

She saw him more clearly than he saw himself, he
realized. He hadn’t meant to coerce her when he lifted her,
but perhaps that was what he intended. “My men are probably
close to the coast already.”

“In only a day?” Skeptical, she slowed
her step. “Your father never moved with such haste in his
life.”

“You’ve never seen my father go to
war,” he answered with unwavering faith. “I pity the
men-at-arms who lost their sleep last night.” Double-time, he
towed her toward a stony knoll covered with scrub, and once more
she gave up the struggle and hurried with him. “You’ll
know they’re here before I do. Sit up on the top of this rock
and listen, and when you hear the sound of battle you’ll know
we are victorious.”

The three men rode toward Cran Castle, their troops
trailing behind. Raymond and Lord Peter flanked the great lord,
arguing across his saddlebow and never missing a stride.

“He bragged about it, I tell you.”
Raymond stripped off his helmet and ran his hands through his long,
dark hair. “At the wedding, he hinted and I shrugged. So he
suggested and I looked interested. Then he told me of his plans to
murder William and I admired him with all my heart.”

“He believed you?” Incredulous, Lord
Peter glared at Raymond.

“Aye, he’s so far gone he can only see
his own greatness.”

Lord Peter shook his head, interested in spite of
himself, afraid it was the truth and feeling foolish for dragging
his men halfway across England for a fairy tale. “Why
didn’t you come to me at once?”

Raymond turned his fine, dark eyes on Lord Peter.
“Would you have believed me?”

Lord Peter’s gaze dropped away.

“You don’t really believe me even now.
You don’t want to believe that one of your nestlings has
grown into a vulture.”

“After Arthur kidnapped William and
Saura—”

“What?” Raymond roared. “Was that
ridiculous story the truth?”

“Assuredly it was the truth.” Lord
Peter stared at Raymond. “I thought William would have told
you.”

“When?”

“At the wedding.”

Raymond threw his head back and laughed harshly.
“At the wedding, William had only one thing on his mind. But
I heard rumors.”

“Arthur admitted that he and another lord
worked together to kill William. I should have spoken to
you.”

“You were not consulting one another,”
the lord told them. “So too many battles go
astray.”

Fretting, Lord Peter said, “I should have
stayed at Burke. What if a message comes about Saura while
I’m gone? Maud’s likely to lead the garrison into
battle herself.”

He glanced at the lord, who grinned and said,
“My wife’s like that. Too sure of herself and ready to
let me know it.”

“Women.” Lord Peter sighed. “Maud
almost took my ears off for being gone when Saura was kidnapped.
Maud
went looking for Saura, all by herself,
when she suspected treachery.”

“Was she hurt?” Raymond asked.

“Nay, only her voice ached from shrieking.
She found the footprints of men and horses. She found a strange
churl, mauled to death. Odder than that, she found our dog, Bula.
You know the dog is nothing but a coward, yet the man lay dead
beside that animal. Bula was tied with a stout rope and frantically
chewing his way through it.” Lord Peter shook his head.
“How did that dog get tied?”

“He knew whoever tied him,” the lord
answered logically.

“Aye, so we surmised. When Maud released the
dog, he took off into the woods and we haven’t seen him
since.”

“I suspect you’ll see Bula
again,” the lord comforted.

“Yes, on the day I see Saura again,”
Lord Peter agreed. “Someone has taken her, but
why?”

“Nicholas did it,” Raymond insisted.
“This whole plot is one big sticky web Nicholas has woven. I
told him to let me know when the time came to divide up the lands
and I’d be there.”

Lord Peter snorted. “I can imagine what he
said to that.”

“He said I’d have to help him to earn
the lands. He had the idea I would do anything to have some income
of my own and not be dependent on my sire.” Raymond’s
mouth twisted into a bitter line.

Neither Lord Peter nor the great lord said a word.
They looked straight ahead as they rode and offered neither
sympathy nor understanding. What could they say? The way
Raymond’s parents treated him was shameful, yet it was
Raymond’s problem and he’d not welcome
interference.

“I failed to pay attention as I should.
Forgive me,” Raymond apologized. “The events in London
are so tremendous,” he glanced at the lord, “that I let
William slip from
my mind. In sooth, I’ve
always believed William could care for himself.”

Lord Peter laughed. “Aye, he does strike you
like that, does he not?”

“So it was until the last new moon, when the
most extraordinary person arrived at my home in London. A big,
beautiful man who insisted he’d run all the way from Cran
Castle with a message from Nicholas. I was gone from London,
trailing along after Prince Henry. The man never sleeps, Lord
Peter, and he delights in unplanned trips.”

“So I see,” Lord Peter answered
wryly.

The lord laughed, and Raymond shrugged at Lord
Peter, indicating his own lack of responsibility for their bizarre
situation. “My servitors didn’t pay the runner a lot of
notice. Just let him eat and sleep and brought him in front of me
when I arrived. This fellow was none too bright, and when he
repeated the message, it didn’t make a lot of sense.
Something about Nicholas wedding a woman to equal William’s
wife.”

“What!” Lord Peter roared.

“It didn’t make sense to me
then,” Raymond said, “but it scared me and made me
decide ’twas time to let you know what I suspected, and what
I knew. It makes sense to me now.”

The lord turned to Lord Peter. “I
couldn’t resist coming along. I need to see the countryside,
talk to the barons. I assure you, I’ve developed a second
sense about treachery and deceit. You’re doing the right
thing.”

Waving his hand, Lord Peter urged them to a gallop.
The whole company rode hard, overtaking all other traffic on the
road and passing through hamlets where the villagers cowered at
their passing. Lord Peter paid little attention when they saw a
small band of soldiers, battered and grim, riding
toward them, but a shout from the group made him pull
up. “Channing,” he said, recognizing the man whose leg
lay crooked across the saddle. “Damn, man, what
happened?”

“Attacked, my lord, as we rode t’ warn
that ye must ride t’ Cran Castle at once.”

“How were you so distressed?” Lord
Peter asked, displeased with the chief man-at-arms and showing
it.

“’Twas a large group of knights,
m’lord, well-trained mercenaries. Charles was in no shape
t’ command us an’ his men nothin’ but
cowards.”

“Charles? You were with Charles?”

“I couldn’t stop t’ check him,
m’lord. I saw him go down under a sword, but whether he lives
I cannot tell.”

“Are any of you uninjured?” Lord Peter
swept his eyes over the group.

Channing nodded. “A few.”

“Send them back to find Charles and discover
if he lives. You, Channing, go on to Burke.”

“I must return wi’ you t’ my Lord
William,” Channing said desperately. “He ordered us
t’ go without him. I argued, m’lord, but Lord
William—”

“Never listens to reason. Where is
William?”

“He went t’ Cran Castle alone,
m’lord, t’ rescue Lady Saura.”

Lord Peter’s mouth formed a perfect
O
of horror.

“He thought he’d sent th’ message
soon enough that ye’d be there already t’ help him, but
th’ warriors were from Cran Castle, there was no mistaking
their shouts.”

“Go home, Channing,” Lord Peter
ordered. “You’ve done all you could.”

“Where did you get these bruises?”
William asked as he dipped her handkerchief into the bucket of
water and washed her face.

His understated fury made her wish they’d
never discovered the well at the abandoned farm in the shadow of
the knoll. The folk who lived there, he told her, had obviously
left in a hurry, seeking the castle for protection. “Rumors
of war must be flying,” he had said.

Now chickens pecked around their feet as they sat
on a bench in the yard, and she soothed his anger with a laugh.
“My bruises are nothing. You didn’t think I’d go
along with Nicholas without a fight, did you?”