Elaine Barbieri (21 page)

Momentarily silent, Hadley responded, “I believe you speak from the heart, but I am old and nearly blind. What can I do?”

“Age and wisdom have earned you the respect of all within the shire. Your work on the cathedral has earned you the esteem of the workers there. In the short time that I labored there, I made valued friends among the workers. I ask that you use the respect you have earned to enlist a few who are willing to risk their lives to free me from this cell.”

“They may not believe that Rosamund is the heiress of the shire.”

“They will believe you if you show them the ring.”

“The ring? What do you know about that?”

“Rosamund told me that the crest would identify her. I know she does not carry it with her, but I assume it is never far from her sight. I assume as well that you know where she keeps it.”

“Yea, I do, but even should I be able to convince some to do as you say, de Silva has well-armed knights who fight diligently in his name. Any force I might raise would be in effective against them.”

“After freeing me, they need not linger, for I will take care of the rest.”

Dagan watched as Hadley hesitated again, and then said, “I was asked to trust a Norman woman when Hyacinthe came to me. I am now asked to trust a Norman prisoner.”

“Hyacinthe asked me to trust her as well. I admit to hesitating because she was formerly close to de Silva. Yet she has not betrayed me, and I will not betray you.”

“She has not betrayed me either…yet.”

Aware that Hadley’s reservations remained, Dagan whispered, “Did I not work tirelessly for you while seeking to discover the truth of the situation here, instead
of going directly to de Silva when I was well enough to declare myself? Did I not keep silent about Rosamund’s true sex until de Silva inadvertently discovered it?”

“Yea, that is so.”

“I ask you, Norman though I am and Norman that I will always be—do you honestly believe that I would now betray either Rosamund or you, or that I would allow anyone else to betray her?”

“Nay, I do not,” Hadley admitted. “But the danger to Rosamund is even greater now that her secret is out. If the baron cannot marry her, he will doubtlessly attempt to kill her.”

Dagan replied doggedly, “I will not allow that to happen. On my life, I give you that solemn promise.”

The sound of footsteps in the corridor beyond the door brought a premature end to their conversation. Hadley turned as the door opened and Hyacinthe stepped into the doorway with the jailor behind her. She said with a forced smile, “We must leave before you are missed, Hadley.”

“Yea…it is time.”

Turning back toward Dagan briefly, Hadley whispered, “I will see what I can do.”

“What did he say?” Hyacinthe’s expression was tight when they emerged from the dungeon. They stepped out into the castle yard and slipped into the shadows, surprised by the rain that pelted them relentlessly. Her hair and clothing adhering to her body, Hyacinthe urged an equally soaked Hadley forward as she demanded, “Tell me what transpired.”

“Dagan wants me to raise a force to free him.”

Hyacinthe took a breath. “What was your answer?”

“I was uncertain. Most Saxons here have learned to value safety above honor.”

“Until they are pushed too far. Although I have little else in common with them, I know that we all have limits.” Her expression unyielding, Hyacinthe declared, “If you will do your part, I will do mine.”

Hadley turned toward her to adjudge her sincerity as well as her meaning. Hyacinthe grimaced and said, “I have won a favored place with the jailor. Fool that he is, he trusts me because of the few intimacies I have allowed him. He does not realize that I left him wanting with a purpose in mind, so that I might aid what ever effort you devise. You have only to find a few men to help.”

“A few men who are expected to overcome the jailor’s crew, as well as de Silva’s knights?”

“Surprise is a weapon that may prove effective.”

“The jailor is dim-witted. He commands only a small force, but they are determined to the point of death not to surrender their underground kingdom.”

“I will take care of the jailor. His men are but sheep who will be lost without their leader.”

Hadley stood silently as the rain beat a relentless tattoo against the ground around them, turning a formerly hard-packed terrain into mud. He responded, “We must work quickly then. I fear for Rosamund.”

“I fear for her as well.”

Hadley’s response was cold. “Pretense does not suit you. You do not care about Rosamund. You care only for vengeance.”

“You are wrong. I have learned a valuable lesson. I will not allow the baron to turn one who has resisted him with all her strength into someone like me, who trusted and was betrayed. I do not know Rosamund, but I respect her as I do not respect myself.”

Hadley offered gruffly, “You are too hard on yourself, Hyacinthe.”

Her eyes brimming with sudden moisture, Hyacinthe responded, “You would not have said those words a few days ago.”

“Perhaps not.” Changing the subject, Hadley strained to see more clearly as the downpour continued. “Work at the site will have been curtailed by the storm. Take me back to my hut.”

Hyacinthe rejoined, “I must warn you that the need for haste is paramount. The baron will work swiftly to secure his position here in William’s eyes. He has already sent a messenger to the king with notification of his intention to wed Rosamund. He intends to accomplish all as quickly as possible so that Rosamund will not find time to thwart him.”

“I will do the best I can.”

“And you will allow me to help you?”

“Yea; in fact, I will depend on your help.”

The silence that prevailed until they reached Hadley’s hut was broken when Hyacinthe said unexpectedly, “Thank you.”

“Why do you thank me?” Hadley frowned. “It is I who should thank you.”

“I thank you because you have allowed me to make recompense for the wrongs I have done since I came here.”

Silent for long moments, Hadley responded, “You are welcome.”

He was still staring in her direction when Hyacinthe disappeared into the pounding rain.

“I will take her food to her.” Aware that the supper hour was over but a tray had not yet been taken to the room Rosamund occupied, Hyacinthe offered, “She has not eaten yet. She will be hungry.”

Evening shadows overwhelmed the kitchen as Edythe raised her wiry brows at Hyacinthe’s offer and said, “It was not oversight on my part that delayed her tray. The baron commanded that she wait for her meals. Doubtless, it is his means of reminding her that she relies on him.” She shook her head. “As for your offer to bring her tray…nay, I think not. I will take it instead.”

Hyacinthe snickered under her breath, aware that the act would irritate Edythe as she responded, “
You
will take the baron’s betrothed her tray this evening? You are jesting, are you not? Winifred has gone home for the day and you forget that there are many stairs to climb—narrow stairs that will make climbing difficult for a woman of your size and weight, even without the long day that you have spent on your feet.”

Edythe sniffed. “I could do it if I wanted to, but perhaps I will have one of the servant lads take her food to her instead.”

“One of the servant lads…true Saxons all. Can you trust that they will not respond to what ever wiles she chooses to use?”

“One of the baron’s knights, then,” Edythe countered stiffly.

“All of whom will not look very kindly on taking orders from you.”

Edythe’s face flushed a hot red as she snapped, “The baron’s men do not resent me. I am considered a loyal Norman now.”

“Not by them.”

Edythe’s gaze narrowed as she asked, “Why are you so determined to bring the baron’s betrothed her supper to night…so determined that you are willing to risk my displeasure in order to do it? What is your intention? Serving the woman who has displaced you, no matter how absurd the dreams that you cherished for so many years, cannot be a pleasant duty.”

“On the contrary, I would enjoy seeing for myself a woman stupid enough to believe the baron’s promises…a woman other than myself, that is.”

Edythe scoffed at Hyacinthe’s unexpected self-deprecation. She looked at Hyacinthe’s bruises and said haughtily, “So you have learned a valuable lesson— obviously well taught.”

“I admit my new attitude is partially due to the baron’s teaching methods.”

“And you would attempt to teach the baron’s betrothed in the same manner.”

“Nay, I but wish to see her…to feast my eyes on a true Saxon who will suffer the baron’s faithlessness while bound to him in a way that I never was.”

Edythe looked around her. She noted that the boys in the kitchen watched her out of the corners of their
eyes in the obvious hope that they would be chosen to replace Winifred in delivering the evening meal. Nay, she could not trust them. She had seen the baron’s betrothed in her female attire and knew they would be easily duped, not only because she was so fair, but by the fact that she was Saxon as they were. They would believe what ever she chose to tell them.

Making her decision, Edythe said, “All right; you may take the baron’s betrothed her tray, but remember, you must not upset her or the baron will take his anger out on both of us.”

“I will not upset her in any way.”

Edythe’s small eyes narrowed. “I trust you only because you are too smart to offend a man in the baron’s position.”

“And because the staircase is narrow, because your legs are tired from supporting your great weight throughout the day, and because—”

“That is enough!” Annoyed by Hyacinthe’s repetition of her shortcomings, Edythe said, “Take this tray that I have prepared before the food grows even colder, but I warn you: Do not take the opportunity to go to the baron’s quarters, for you will only receive more of the same from him if you do.”

“I do not doubt that.”

Snatching up the tray, Hyacinthe headed for the staircase. The broad smile that had curved her lips fell the moment she was out of sight.

Rosamund paused when she heard a step on the stairs beyond her door. She did not immediately recognize
it, but the guard’s voice was clear as he said, “Halt! The baron has ordered that no one is to enter his betrothed’s room.”

“Surely he did not mean me. I bring his darling her nightly repast.”

Rosamund did not recognize the female voice as the guard responded laughingly, “
His darling
? Perhaps you call her that because the baron used that name for you…at certain times.”

“Nay, at those times he called me his wench.”

The guard’s laughter rang again before he added, “But it appears all that is in the past, since your face bears the mark of his hand.”

“Perhaps it is…but the baron has claimed to be finished with me before.”

The guard responded lasciviously, “Why do you waste your time on dreams that will never come to fruition when a man such as I could do more for you than the baron ever could, Hyacinthe?”

Rosamund gasped. The guard had called the woman Hyacinthe. He was speaking to the servant who had followed the baron from Normandy.

Rosamund listened more closely as Hyacinthe responded with typical flirtatiousness. “Perhaps I will yet experience what you have to offer, but I have been assigned another task this evening, and this food grows cold.”

“Cold food…long hours between paltry meals…solitude relieved only by his presence…the baron knows how to break a woman’s resistance down slowly.”

“Is that what he is doing?” Hyacinthe questioned. “I wondered.”

“Did you really wonder, Hyacinthe?” The sudden interruption of a familiar voice startled Rosamund. She did not have to see the baron to know that he had appeared unexpectedly in the hallway.

De Silva’s voice grew gruff as he said, “I thought I recognized your voice, Hyacinthe. Did I not order you from this keep? Did I not say I no longer wanted to set eyes upon you?”

“You said that, my lord,” Hyacinthe returned flatly, “But you have said similar things to me before. I hoped to outwait your dismissal.”

“Perhaps my blow was not convincing enough? Perhaps I should strike harder.”

Hyacinthe replied, “What ever you wish. I am your servant, my lord. I but await your pleasure.”

The unexpectedness of Hyacinthe’s reply was reflected in the baron’s response when he ordered, “Begone! I will take my betrothed’s tray in to her.”

“That menial a task is beneath you, my lord,” Hyacinthe replied adamantly.

“But it allows me quiet time with my betrothed.”

Hyacinthe’s voice hardened when she replied as unexpectedly as before, “You never needed an excuse to see me.”

“That is true. But you were never a challenge to me and I became bored with you. Now, begone!”

Rosamund heard the rattling of a tray and the retreat of light footsteps. Then she heard the baron speak to the guard in a whisper before the door opened and he entered, bearing the tray.

Rosamund realized at that moment that she had never despised a man more.

Hyacinthe slowed her pace on the stairs just before reaching the kitchen. Pride caused her to wipe away the tears that the baron’s words had raised before she entered with her head high.

Edythe could not hide her gleefulness when she asked, “What happened? Did the baron’s betrothed throw you out of the room that he prepared for her?”

“Nay, I changed my mind and left the tray with her handsome guard.”

“
Handsome
, eh? You are already casting your eyes for a replacement of the baron?”

“Perhaps.” Shrugging, pretending that the knot inside her was not twisting tighter with every word, she asked, “Speaking of handsome men, where is Martin?”

“Are you referring to Sir Martin Venoir?”

“One and the same,” Hyacinthe replied with a flippant shrug of her shoulders that she did not feel.

“He is gone.”

“Gone?” Hyacinthe went still. “Where?”

“I cannot say, except that he asked me to prepare food for him to take with him. I have noticed his discomfort with the baron’s handling of the situation here before. I can only assume he went home to Normandy, where life will be more to his liking.”