Chosen for the Marriage Bed (14 page)

Richard’s frown deepened. ‘I think we should leave. Whatever the problem, we’re doing no good here. I would rather have you back within the security of the walls of Ledenshall.’

‘And leave David?’ Elizabeth’s hands clenched into the material of her skirts. ‘Master Capel swears David is in no danger, but I may not enter for my own good!’

And seeing the fear, the glimmer of tears on Elizabeth’s cheeks, Richard’s concern for her overrode his anger at their treatment at Sir John’s hands. ‘Lady Ellen will not allow him to come to harm,’ he urged, praying that it was so and that Elizabeth would allow herself to be persuaded. ‘I want to take you away from here. Tomorrow at first light. Do you agree?’ Elizabeth’s safety was fast becoming a matter to engage his whole mind. The urgency of it rode him with sharp spurs. He drew her into his arms, surprised by the need to hold her close.

And Elizabeth, allowing herself to be soothed by those strong arms, took a deep breath and leaned into his care, her forehead resting against his chest.

‘I suppose we must,’ she sighed.

Richard tightened his hold. ‘Then let us go home.’

The Malinders were mounted and ready to leave. Sir John, making no attempt to dissuade them, left the polite fare wells to his wife, who with a wan smile approached Elizabeth as she sat her horse.

‘I’ll take all care of him,’ Lady Ellen assured. ‘To me he is the son I never carried. I’ll let no harm come to him.’

Elizabeth grasped her hand warmly. ‘I am grateful beyond words.’

‘I have some thing for you.’ It was little more than a whisper so that Elizabeth had to bend low to hear the words.

Ellen took Elizabeth’s hand again as if to press it in farewell. Into the centre of her palm she care fully pressed a small hard object, closing Elizabeth’s fingers tightly over it with her own. ‘From David,’ she murmured. ‘I got past the guard. He was lucid. He said to give it to you.’ Then Ellen took a step back and smiled brightly up into Elizabeth’s face. ‘I have this for you.’ She handed over a bulky package, raising her voice to normal pitch. ‘I know you are skilled in the use of herbs. My herb garden has grown so well this spring. The comfrey is over running the whole patch, and so is the lovage. Perhaps you can make use of them.’

‘I will, Lady Ellen.’ But despite the normality of her reply, Elizabeth’s fingers were clutched tightly around the object in her palm and her heart thundered in her chest. Surely all around her could hear it, feel the vibration.

Ellen’s voice was a whisper again, eyes wide. ‘I’m afraid.’

Richard urged his horse closer. ‘Can we help?’

‘Ellen.’ Sir John’s voice rang out. ‘Let them go. It’s a long enough journey without your detaining them.’

‘Yes, my lord. Of course.’ Ellen lifted her face, un willing to let them go without a final word. ‘Goodbye and God keep you. No, you cannot help me, Richard. Go home and keep Elizabeth safe. I’ll look after David, never fear.’

And then they were riding out from under the massive portcullis, their faces turned towards the gentler hills of the middle March, Elizabeth accompanied through out the whole journey by sharp fears. She knew exactly what Ellen had given her, what was now tucked securely within the bodice of her gown.

As soon as they were dismounted at Ledenshall, Elizabeth did not linger. Without a word, she picked up her skirts and ran up the steps and into the Hall, then to her chamber, where Richard came to find her sitting in a chair before a fire, loosely wrapped around in a heavy velvet robe, her veil discarded. He thought he had not seen such anguish on her face since the night of Lewis’s murder. A single sheet of parchment lay unfolded on a coffer at her side and two items of jewellery beside it. She was staring at them, face drained of colour, eyes wide with lingering horror. The rich emerald colour of her robe merely enhanced her blood less cheeks and lips.

‘Elizabeth.’ He closed the door softly. It must be worse than he thought. ‘What is it? You must tell me.’

She shook her head as if to shake her thoughts into some sensible pattern. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’ He could see her grip the arms of the chair. ‘No—that’s not true. I think I am very sure. I just don’t want to believe it.’

He pulled up a stool to sit opposite her, leaned his forearms on his thighs, but did not pick up the items until she was ready. Did not speak until her thoughts were sufficiently ordered that she could raise her eyes to his face. When she did, his heart was wrung by the wretchedness he saw there.

‘Oh, Richard…’ She picked up the silver circle set with a crude amethyst, held it out on her open palm. ‘I know this ring. David gave it to Ellen to give to me.’

‘And?’ he prompted as her explanation dried.

‘It belongs—it belonged to Lewis.’

Richard’s brows snapped together as he lifted the simple crude circle of silver from his wife’s hand. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Oh, yes. I could not be mistaken. I gave it to him, you see. When I was very young and very foolish—I wanted to give him a gift. His horse—it broke its leg and was killed. He was so young and so sad, and tried to be so brave, but I knew that he wept for it. I had nothing else to give of any value. It had belonged to our mother and probably her mother before her. The engraving is very worn, as you can see, and the stone is not well cut. It was a silly gesture, but I wanted him to have it.’ She swiped at a tear that over spilled. ‘It was far too small for him to wear even then—so he put it on a cord around his neck and promised me he would wear it for ever. And for all I know, he always wore it beneath his tunic.’

‘Perhaps he gave it to David?’ Richard sought for reasons, any reason other than the obvious, however unlikely.

‘No. I think he would not. It was my gift to him. I don’t think he would give it away.’

Neither did Richard. ‘What about that?’ he asked after a brief silence, angling his chin to the other jewel.

‘Ah. The brooch.’ The muscles in her jaw clenched. ‘This was in Ellen’s packet of comfrey and lovage, well disguised if anyone should see fit to pry.’ She pushed the jewel towards him with the parchment. Three short scrawled lines only.

I found this in your uncle’s possession. I know there is more.

You will recognise it.

I can only guess at its implication.

It was a brooch, a fine piece of value, fashioned of gold with rubies in a cabochon setting. Richard lifted it from the table, held it in his hand, admiring the weight and work manship even as his gut clenched with the knowledge it brought. If his fears were true, what depths of misery this would bring for Elizabeth. Surely owner ship of this gem would point an accusing finger at the man responsible for Lewis’s death. The rubies reflected the candlelight, an inner blood-red fire in their heart.

‘When did you last see that?’ Elizabeth asked when he said nothing.

‘I’m not sure.’ Richard hesitated, un willing to put his fears into words. ‘The work man ship is magnificent. A splendid piece, of Italian manufacture, I think.’

‘Yes. And of considerable worth. As I know. So I also know it was hardly ever worn. It was a gift to Lewis from our father, a de Lacy jewel.’

‘I see.’ He looked up, eyes suddenly narrowed as his fears were confirmed.

‘When I last set eyes on it,’ Elizabeth continued, ‘it was pinned to the brim of Lewis’s hat to secure a flam boy ant feather—on the day of our wedding.’ As if the full meaning of the words, of the situation they painted, struck her for the first time, Elizabeth covered her face with her hands. ‘I dare not think of the reasons for these to fall into the hands of David and Ellen.’ Then she thrust back her chair, sprang to her feet to pace the chamber from one end to the other in an out pouring of furious energy, kicking the heavy skirts of her robe from her path. ‘I know what I suspect. It can be the only answer. He killed Lewis. Sir John killed him—or had him killed. Surely that can be the only reason for these pieces of jewellery to be discovered at Talgarth. And the brooch in Sir John’s own possession. I cannot doubt Ellen’s word. What other reason can there be?’ Her thoughts continued to flow out in an un controlled flood of words. ‘Now he has David under his hand. And I am powerless to do anything about it.’ She raised her hands in helpless fury, swinging round to fist them on the back of the chair that she had just vacated.

‘You still have no proof beyond the circumstantial,’ Richard answered with the voice of a man who would uphold the law of the land, despite the anger that had begun to churn in his gut at the logical brutality of his wife’s thought processes. Trying for her sake to remain impartial, rational. Balanced. If she was not capable of cold reasoning, then he must be, for her sake.

‘It’s the only explanation. How else could they be there?’ Elizabeth began to pace again. ‘Why would Ellen pass them so secretively to me?’

‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘I have to accept that.’

‘Will you help me?’

At the far end of the room she swung round to face him again. The insubstantial light of the candles masked the worst of her anguish, but her voice trembled. It was a cry for help that he found impossible to ignore. Yet his instinct was still to weigh the evidence and consider. Cautious now, Richard continued to lean on his elbows, folded his hands, rested his chin there.

‘To do what, exactly?’

‘To rescue David. To make Sir John pay for his des pi cable crime. What else?’ Elizabeth flung our her arms in impatience.

Richard breathed out slowly as he realised the weight of what she was asking, and how she would react if she read his reply, his advice, as an outright refusal. Hurt she must already be. He had no wish to add to her pain ‘Elizabeth—listen to me. I think David is in no danger at Talgarth. I think he has a role in Sir John’s plans, whatever they might be. Sir John will use your brother, perhaps attempt to mould him to his own desires as heir to the de Lacy lands—but he will not
kill
him.’

‘I do not want him there, a virtual prisoner, to be
moulded
, as you put it, by a murderer. Do you really think David’s sudden illness, which kept him delirious and confined to bed, was purely coincidence? I do not. I cannot but fear for his life.’

‘No, I don’t believe it was a coincidence. I think it was to keep him from too close a conversation with
you
. Most likely the fever was a product of Master Capel’s skills. But now that you are gone, I think David will come to no lasting harm. His is the only de Lacy blood—apart from yours—to inherit the Talgarth lands after Sir John’s death.’

‘But if it’s all a matter of in heritance—if that means so much to my uncle,’ Elizabeth fretted, ‘why would he kill Lewis?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘My uncle killed my brother.’ She repeated the words once more, as if she could not take in the true meaning of them. Then pinned Richard with a stare. ‘He must be brought to justice.’

‘I agree. But what can I do?’ He rose to his feet to close the distance between them. ‘We have here a case against Sir John that will not stand in a court of law. No witnesses to call who will speak the truth, no evidence to point in controvertibly to his guilt. His retainers will not speak against him if they value their pockets—or even their lives. All we have are two pieces of jewellery discovered in the wrong place.’ He was as frustrated and hedged about as she, but his control was better than hers. ‘I am no ancient god who can wreak deadly vengeance with a well-aimed bolt of lightning, without consequence or responsibility to a higher power.’ Elizabeth continued to pace, stepping around him when he would have barred her path, until he stretched out an arm to stop her. ‘I cannot rescue David, short of a full-blown siege of Talgarth. Think of what you suggest, Elizabeth.’

But she was beyond reason, her eyes wild. He could feel the tension in her arm where his hand rested. ‘My brother’s blood cries out for vengeance, my lord.’ Her deliberate descent into the formal was bitter indeed. ‘And you stand there to tell me there is no proof!’

‘I know, and it hurts you, but revenge must be under the banner of justice, by the law of the land, and that requires proof.’

‘He murdered Lewis and callously heaped the blame on your head, before all your people. He deliberately sowed the seeds of doubt in my own heart. Can you overlook such undeserved dishonour? Do you tell me that he does not merit punishment?’

‘No. But I think you are not listening to reason. You need to rest. You will make yourself ill if you cannot put it aside for tonight.’

‘Reason! What role has reason in all this?’ She almost snarled at him, eyes snapping in fury.

What could he say? He could no longer find the words. She was beyond soothing or comfort, but he would try again. ‘Come to bed—and tomorrow we will think again.’

‘You do not care! Are you not man enough to help me?’

With one sharp movement, a deliberate open-handed blow, she swept a candlestick and its candle, regardless of any danger from the leaping flame to the bed-hangings, to the floor.

Which pushed Richard into action. ‘Stop this, Elizabeth.’ He took her hands and pulled her closer, locking his fingers with hers to prevent her from snatching away. ‘Yes. I do care. And I promise that I will do what I can.’ And as he looked down into her face he saw the glitter of tears as anguish began to replace anger. His heart ached for her. He wanted nothing more than to bring her some ease from her torment.

‘Do I have to get revenge myself?’ she whispered, now clinging tightly.

‘No.’ He gave her a little shake, moved almost beyond words. ‘Foolish girl! Have I not said? You are mine and so you are not alone in this.’

Their eyes caught and held, tight as a fist. Awareness one of the other, strange and unbidden, danced in the flickering light. Then desire arced between them, hot and ruthless as a flame. He drew her into his arms, held tight when she would have struggled against so unexpected a surge in her blood. He had planned to be gentle, to soothe the pain, stroke away the anger that rode her with kind words and soft hands, as he had when they were last at odds, but knew in that moment that such softness would not serve the purpose at all. Besides, he was over whelmed, his senses all but over turned by a basic need. He wanted her, as simple as that. He desired her, so proud as she was, so driven to get justice for Lewis.