Authors: Betrothed
“ ’Tis not a trick.” She wished there was some way to convince him that she did not lie. She had only the truth to persuade him. “I know you have little reason to believe anything I say, but I did not play a willing part in your betrayal. My life is in as much danger as your own. We must be away from here before we are discovered.”
“ ‘We’?” He shook his head. “You are a clever little cat, always ready to land on her feet. If you were not a part of this plot you would be made a prisoner. You would not be allowed to traipse around the gatehouse in the middle of the night to pay me a visit. Tell me where the soldiers wait for us.”
“No one waits for us,” she said. “I came here alone. After they took you away this morning, my uncle did lock me in my
chamber. He thinks he is the only one who knows where the secret passages lie, the passageways that allowed them to bring you to my room last night even though I bolted my door from the inside. Did you not wonder how you left your chamber without your squire’s notice?”
He lifted one shoulder in a dismissing shrug. “He was probably drugged as well.”
“Nay, they took you through the passageways. I was drugged as you were.” She felt a blush warm her cheeks at the memory of finding herself naked and in bed with him, yet she could not afford to dwell on those thoughts. “This afternoon I made my way into those same passages to a spy hole behind the solar and heard the whole of their plot. My uncle thought you changed your mind about Halford, that you did not intend to go through with the contract. He concocted this scheme to get even more of your gold. Bishop Germaine thinks to gain your confidence by offering to hold the marriage portions in safekeeping at his monastery, but he will insist that the marriage itself must take place. The day after the wedding your men will find you dead with evidence that I murdered you. My uncle and the bishop will then split the gold between them.”
Guy didn’t show the shock or horror that she expected. He smiled, but the expression lacked any trace of warmth. “You weave a worthy tale, lady. Do you think I am some gullible squire to be taken in by such nonsense?”
“ ’Tis truth,” she insisted. His hardened expression did not change. To tell him any more of the plot against them would be a waste of breath. He would never believe her, never trust in her again. She could not blame him. There was only one truth he could not ignore. “The bishop himself drew up a betrothal contract and with his signature it became valid. The Church will not allow you to marry another while a prior contract exists. Even if you escape tonight, you may be sure that my uncle will petition the Church and delay any hopes you have for an heir until you pay him off. ’Tis common enough to blackmail wealthy men by claiming a prior contract,
and this one will have the seal of a bishop upon it. If you take me with you, I will swear before any priest or even the king himself that you were betrayed by my uncle. With both of us as witnesses to the facts, the contract will be made invalid.”
His gaze flickered toward the doorway then returned to her face. “Somehow I find it hard to believe that you would betray your own family. Surely your uncle will give you a portion of the gold if you remain silent on the matter.”
“He will give me to your men to hang!” She pressed her lips together. Anger would gain her nothing when reason alone had so little effect. She took a deep breath. “As of today, the only family I acknowledge is my brother, Dante. His last missive arrived from London nearly a year ago, but if I can find him I know he will take me in.”
“I thought you had two brothers. Why look for this Dante if he is so hard to find? Why not go to the other?”
“My oldest brother died many years ago. Dante is all I have left.” She lowered her gaze to the floor. If Guy discovered the name of her eldest brother, he would never consider her request. She hurried on before he could ask any more questions about Roberto. “If you help me escape, I would hire a company of your men to help me search for Dante. I have a necklace that belonged to my mother. In London I can sell the necklace to pay your men. Perhaps there will be enough to compensate you for your trouble as well. You will be free of me soon enough, and free of any claims my uncle might try to make. ’Tis the easiest way to rid yourself of me for good.”
“Nay, ’tis not the easiest way,” he mused. He folded his arms across his chest, then rubbed his chin. “Many of the problems you present would go away if you were to die.”
Claudia backed up a step, even though she doubted he would carry out that foul threat. He was bluffing. Wasn’t he?
He continued in a firmer tone. “If I find out that—” A shadow fell between them and Guy lunged toward her.
“Nay!”
Claudia tried to flee his attack. Before she could move, something large and solid struck the back of her head. Guy’s alarmed face swam before her, then everything went black.
“Christ! I thought you meant to cleave her in two!”
“I have apologized twice already, Baron. When I returned from the guard walk I saw her standing in the doorway with her back to me. I knew you saw me there, and I mistook your words for an order to kill her. Had you not called out at the last moment, she would indeed be dead. She was lucky to take no more than the broadside of my sword to her head.”
“I meant to frighten her into telling me the truth, not to murder her.”
“Aye, well, we both know that now, although you may soon wish the mistake was uncorrectable. She is dead weight. You will never manage your way down the wall with her tied to your back. I say we toss her over the side and be done with the problem. At this time of night, no one will hear the body land.”
Claudia awoke in time to hear that vile announcement. The hushed, male voice sounded familiar. Or were there two? It took another groggy moment to get her bearings, to realize she lay in a careless heap atop one of the gatehouse towers. Her eyes popped wide open when she realized who might be the most likely candidate to get tossed from the tower wall.
“I will not have the blood of a woman on my conscience. In any event, what if she awakened halfway down? Her screams would rouse every soldier in the garrison.”
“I’ll slit her throat first,” came the matter-of-fact answer.
Claudia’s hands went to her throat in a protective gesture.
“Damnation,” the throat-slitter continued. “She is awake.”
A cloaked figure loomed over her. As she sat up and pressed her back to the tower wall, the clouds that obscured the half-moon drifted away. She had intended to bolt to one
side, but found herself startled to immobility by what the moonlight revealed. “Friar Thomas?”
The realization that a holy man wished to slit her throat shocked Claudia more than she thought possible this night. Friar Thomas was such a gentle, soft-spoken man. He was her friend!
The friar ignored her pointless question and looked to his right. “Now what do we do?”
Claudia’s gaze followed the friar’s and she saw a man standing a few feet away, his attention on a rope he had secured around one of the raised stone sections between the tower’s crenels. Guy’s face looked harsh and forbidding in the moonlight. After a quick test of the knot’s strength, he tossed the long coil over the side then turned to give her a scowl as dark as the friar’s. “You have a choice to make, Lady Claudia. Either you follow me down this rope with a gag in your mouth to ensure a measure of silence, or our good Friar Thomas here will see you over the side without benefit of either gag or rope. The choice is yours.”
Claudia didn’t care for either choice. Going over the wall meant hanging by a rope at least fifty feet above the jagged rocks that formed the base of the castle. She could scarce climb a stepladder without getting dizzy. Heights terrified her. On the other hand, so did the thought of Friar Thomas slitting her throat.
“Th-there is a bolthole. We need not climb down this wall.” She gritted her teeth together to keep them from chattering.
“Aye,” Thomas sneered. “A bolthole with a soldier assigned to guard that passage during the night. But you knew that already, did you not?”
Claudia stared at Thomas openmouthed as another realization struck. “You speak Italian. All this time—”
Thomas made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Only someone who knows your language could understand a word you speak in ours.” He turned to Guy. “The watch will pass this way again in less than an hour. ’Tis insanity even to
consider taking her with you. Let me make the decision for her.”
“I will cause no trouble! I swear!” She looked from Guy to Friar Thomas. The long dagger he held made her blurt out her decision. “I will go over the wall!”
Guy took a step toward her. “Give me your hand.”
She took an unconscious step backward. “W-why?”
His brows narrowed. “Never argue with men who would rather slit your throat than set you free, lady. Give me your hand.”
Claudia could not hide the way she trembled, but she extended her hand. Just as he reached forward, she snatched her right hand back and extended her left. She favored her right for most tasks and might not find herself so hampered if he intended lasting damage.
Guy made a sound of disgust. In one quick movement, he grasped the long sleeve of her gown and gave it a sharp tug. The sleeve ripped free at the shoulder and came away in his hand. “Turn around.”
Claudia stared at the sleeve he held. What did he mean to tear from her next?
Guy seemed to read her thoughts. He made a sound of impatience. “ ’Tis to gag you. Turn around!”
She obeyed the order, but soon rethought her docile compliance. With her back to the baron, it would be an easy matter to slit her throat, and a quiet task once he had her gagged. Her knees buckled and she gripped the tower wall to right her balance. The makeshift gag came down over her face. She tugged it off her nose just as he made a tight knot at the back of her head, then he spun her around by the shoulders to check his work. She assumed the curt nod meant he felt satisfied that the strip of cloth would keep her quiet. He kept one hand on her arm and all but dragged her to the crenel where he had tied the rope. He looked over the side, then leaned back to look at her skirts.
“You will break your neck,” he predicted. Before she could guess his intent, he drew a dagger and knelt before her.
He grasped the hem of her gown and the dagger sliced through the fabric to a point well above her knees. He resheathed the dagger just as she gathered her wits enough to make a muffled sound of protest. “Thomas will lower you over the side of the wall. Get the rope between your legs before he lets go of you.” He turned to Friar Thomas. “Cut her throat if she hesitates. Cut the rope if she makes a sound on the way down.”
On that loathsome note, he stepped into one of the crenels and disappeared from sight.
Friar Thomas’s hand clamped down on her arm and he moved toward the crenel to watch the baron’s progress. His voice sounded distracted. “I hope you are stronger than you look, lady. ’Tis a long climb down, a sore strain on a lady’s arms when they have lifted nothing weightier than a needle.”
If not for the gag, she would have informed him that she was stronger than he assumed. She hauled a dozen heavy buckets of water to the bathhouse each night, for she refused to bathe in water dirtied by another. It seemed her obsession with cleanliness was about to prove a valuable trait.
“He made it to the bottom.” Thomas pulled her forward until she stood before the crenel, then he whispered in her ear. “One sound, lady. One whimper, or one false move, and the rope will not hold you. Do you understand me?”
Claudia gave him a frantic nod. She braced her hands on either side of the crenel and stepped into the opening. The moonlight revealed the craggy rocks far below and the shadowy figure of a man. Baron Montague looked the size of an ant. She kept the moan of fear locked inside her throat. The rope that extended down the wall lay at her feet, beyond her reach in the narrow opening. How did Guy manage it? How would she manage?
Thomas solved that problem for her. His hand clasped her arm in a fierce grip while the other pushed her forward. In that moment she knew why they had gagged her. He meant to throw her over the side after all.
This time she couldn’t contain her muffled cry of terror.
She clawed at the stone crenel with her free hand, but her balance was lost. She pitched forward, a slow, falling motion that seemed to take forever, but ended almost before it started. Her heart slammed against her chest with a force equal to the one that jerked her in a half circle to face the outer wall of the tower. Thomas’s grip on her wrist held fast. She said a hasty prayer of thanks that he did not intend to murder her after all, cut short by an overriding instinct to secure her dangling weight.
Thomas lowered her enough to grab the rope, then eased her left hand downward until she could grasp the slender lifeline with both hands. He even continued to hold her by the arm until she managed to get her knees and slippered feet around the rope through the vicious slash in her gown. Uncertain when Thomas might change his mind about her fate, she gave him a choppy nod and he released her.
She couldn’t move.
Her hands felt frozen around the rope, her legs as well. If she moved, she would fall. If she did not move, Thomas would cut the rope from inside the wall. She wondered if she would be lucky enough to faint before the fall killed her.
“You made it this far.” Thomas’s voice sounded surprisingly gentle, yet she could not look up to see his expression. “The rest is easier. Just grip the rope with your feet and move one hand at a time.”
Claudia tried to take a deep breath, but even her chest felt as if it were trying to wrap itself around the rope. She focused all her attention on the stone wall straight ahead and on the movement of her left hand as it eased lower. She let her feet slide down a few inches of the rope as well. Her right hand let go of the rope just long enough to move below the left, then she repeated the motion, again and again, until she thought it would never end. Her arms ached, her legs ached, even her bones ached from the fierce effort. And she thought a few buckets of water would prepare her for this task?