Read Heartsong Online

Authors: Allison Knight

Tags: #historical romance

Heartsong (29 page)

“She’s breeding.” He turned to Edina. “Let him have his say.”

“Rhianna refused to come.” Joseph said.

“I cannot believe that. She would not come?” Edina stopped employing the rag.

“Aye. After, Margot retired.” Joseph looked upset. “She claimed she had to rest. I talked to Margot’s maid. Rhianna told the maid she could help more at Fiston. She said...” he paused.

Edina threw the rag into the bucket of water and jammed her hands on her hips. “Finish it.”

“The maid said Rhianna told her a warrior learned early to care for himself. Bringing a babe into the world had more meaning. And after Margot had no need of her she was going back to Wales. That’s—that’s what she said.”

“Nothing you say makes any sense. I remember how she cared for Garrett after the poison arrow. Besides, how would she get back to Wales? She got lost leaving Knockin.”

“Her brother.” Lydon’s quiet voice broke the tension. “Her brother will take her home. Arthur came here.”

Edina glared at him. “What say you?”

“Arthur came for her. Garrett sent Rhianna to Fiston instead of sending her home with Arthur. Now, Arthur must have found her at Fiston, decided to let her help Margot before he takes her home.”

“What about my Lord? I have not the skill to treat him. We will lose him if we cannot find her.”

“We’ll care for him. We won’t let him die.”

“Lydon,” Edina brushed at the tears that formed in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do for him.”

He put his arms around her. “We’ll get help. I won’t let him die. I won’t.”

“Nay, you must do something else. You go to Fiston. You talk to Rhianna. Bring her back. Make her realize how sick my Lord is. How much we need her here.” Edina wiped her tears on the sleeve of her gown, her eyes pleading with her husband.

Lydon nodded and picked up his cloak.

~ * ~

Miles away at Fiston, Margot trotted from her chamber, a pleased smile on her face after Willa had repeated Joseph’s message word for word. Oh, Margot didn’t want Garrett to die. She knew Lydon wouldn’t let that happen, but it was just the information she needed to get the slut out of her house. Fortunately, most of her people knew little about Rhianna. For that reason Margot had met Joseph in the courtyard. Willa had done the same.

She chuckled. Everything appeared to be working in her favor. The last word from her husband indicated that Richard would be in France for months yet, mayhap a year. Plenty of time to find a child to pass off as his. The castle folk had all accepted the story that she was breeding and although she found staying in her chamber boring, it served her purpose.

She had given some thought to the idea of sending word to Richard that she had lost the child. However, his words, she had to give him an heir or he would banish her from Fiston, canceled the thought quickly enough.

Nay, she had to continue to pretend she was breeding and find a child somewhere. It couldn’t be too difficult. The serfs and servants mated like rabbits.

As she climbed the stairs to the small chamber Rhianna occupied, she almost laughed out loud. It had taken some skill to keep her from knowing of Joseph’s arrival, but she’d done it even though it meant Margot had to spend time with Garrett’s whore.

She’d also had to twist Willa’s arm to get her to say

what she wanted said to Joseph, but now she could take matters into her own hands. The next few minutes were not going to be pleasant, but at last, she’d get the baggage out of her castle.

“Rhianna,” Margot called out as she tapped on the chamber door.

“Come,” Rhianna answered.

Margot opened the door. Rhianna continued to look pale, ill, if the truth be known. Well, it mattered not. Margot ignored the brief twinge of pity. Nay, she wanted this person out of Fiston, out of her home and she had found the perfect means to accomplish her goal.

“I’m sorry to bother you again, but I have word.”

Margot fought the surge of guilt as she watched Rhianna’s expression brighten, her blue eyes shining. Margot suppressed the stab of compassion that assailed her. This was for the best. Rhianna had no position in this family and she needed to go back to her own home, to leave England. If that was not possible, then she needed to be put out of her misery.

“This is not something you are going to want to hear. The king called Garrett away from Knockin to do battle before he could respond to my questions. Now it matters not. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but my brother is...”

Margot hesitated. If Garrett had just died, then she would be showing signs of grief. Best to wait until later in the day and have Willa deliver the final blow. That way, Margot herself could pretend to be overcome with her own sorrow. She fought the smile that wanted to slip past her restraint.

In fact, she found her hesitation worked to her advantage. She took a deep breath, as if saying the words caused her great pain. Of course, if she really thought for a moment, Garrett might die, she would be distraught. She loved her brother, overbearing though he was. But, Joseph had said only that he had been wounded and was asking for Rhianna. Garrett wouldn’t have been able to ask for her if he’d been seriously injured.

Satisfied with her reasoning, she continued, “He has been wounded. They will let us know as soon as there is more information.”

“I must go to him,” Rhianna said.

Margot watched as she stumbled to her feet. “Nay. If they need you, there will be word. You must stay here so they know where to find you.”

That seemed to find reason with her and Margot slipped from the room.

She would send Willa to tell her of Garrett’s supposed death later this afternoon. Then, she would move the wench to the unoccupied cottage in the forest. Rhianna could find her own way back to Wales, and if she didn’t, or couldn’t, then it was out of Margot’s hand. At least the whore would be out of her castle.

~ * ~

Rhianna sat in the only chair in the small room, shaking with fear. Chills chased up and down her spine as she waited for word. Garrett had never been out of her mind for a second since she had arrived at Fiston.

She thought of him day and night, reliving all the happy moments they had spent together. When she closed her eyes, his face popped up before her. She could see his square face, his long nose which flared out slightly above those soft, full lips. She could almost imagine running her fingers through his thick, curly hair, curls as soft and smooth as silk. And, oh how she loved those blue-gray eyes, eyes she imagined looking into her soul, seeing the love she’d never told him she had for him.

Each night since she had been at Fiston, as she crawled under the empty furs, she’d remembered his lovemaking. She pretended she was once again in his arms, his lips covering her, his fingers playing with her nipples, his warm hands gliding over her willing body. At times she could almost feel his penetration as he made her his. The emotions she suffered during those times were like a slashing cut, an ache so painful she wondered if she could live with just the memories.

He could not die.

She could not stand it if he too left her, as her father had, as Dafydd had. Nay, part of her would expire if his soul was delivered into heaven. She sat tense waiting through the nooning, through the early afternoon hours.

How long she sat there, she didn’t know. But when a hesitant knock sounded on her door, it startled her.

She jerked from the chair and grabbed the knob, pulling the door toward her.

Willa stood in the door, her own eyes red.

“Nay,” Rhianna whispered. “Nay,” she shouted.

The maid shook her head.

“I am sorry. My Lady is too upset to come to you now, but we just received word. He must have passed on even as word of his injury reached us.”

The maid stood rubbing her arm, tears in her eyes but Rhianna hurt too much to cry. Once again an object of her love had been cruelly taken from her. She would never see him again.

Slowly, as if a great fog had descended around her, she stumbled toward her bed. She curled into a tight ball willing the anguish to lessen, to hear words that it was all a silly tale, an untruth, something said to cause her hurt. But day became night and no one else came to her room. No one arrived to say it was only a story, a falsehood, so someone could have a laugh at her expense.

There were no tears. Her hurt was too great. She lay numb, waiting for someone from Knockin to come for her so she at least could witness his burial, stand beside his tomb and mutter her prayers.

But no one came.

Early the next morning, Willa appeared. Rhianna did not notice her own demeanor, nor did she care about her appearance. Her limited gowns had been shoved into a case, her untouched harp lay next to it. She was prepared to travel. Nor did she want an offer of food, for anything put into her stomach now would surely find a quick exit.

“My Lady says you are to come with me.”

Rhianna followed her down the stairs, out into the bailey. Two men who Rhianna didn’t recognize stood at attention, holding a mule between them. Rhianna looked at the animal, surprised that she would be expected to ride for several hours on something so uncomfortable. But she would be gone from this place so she asked no questions.

Her reason returned for a moment. Margot would not want to travel to the funeral with her. At least Margot had provided an escort. She didn’t bother forming the words of thanks to the one man who assisted her in mounting the beast.

She paid no attention to the direction they took, her heart bleeding. Her love was gone, her reason for existence once again smashed so brutally she knew she would have to gather more courage than she thought she had to just survive.

They walked out of the bailey and turned toward the forest. Rhianna gave no thought to how they traveled, or in what direction. Her one intent was to avoid breaking into debilitating sobs. Crying did nothing but weaken you, take your spirit, leave you powerless. She had been there before and had no desire to return. Her heart was broken—again.

They traveled less than an hour before they stopped. A small cottage, nestled in a group of leafless trees stood isolated, alone, like her soul.

She finally spoke.

“Why are we here? This is not Knockin.”

“Our Lady said to bring you here,” the man who had helped her onto the mule replied.

“Where is here? Why are you not taking me to Knockin?”

They did not answer. Instead, one of the men dumped the case holding her garments next to the cottage. He laid the harp she never played at Fiston beside the case. The man who’d helped her onto to the animal pulled her off. He handed her a basket.

“There’s a stream of fresh water yonder.” He pointed off into the trees.

She stood stunned as he grabbed the rope to the mule. They rode off, dragging the animal behind.

This didn’t make any sense. Why had they brought her here? She should be returning to Knockin. What was Margot thinking? Obviously Margot didn’t want her to attend the funeral. But why?

She had no answers.

~ * ~

The next afternoon, Lydon rushed into the sickroom.

“Well.” Edina wiped her arms against her forehead.

“She has left Fiston.”

“Thank the blessed saints.”

“Nay. She is not coming here. She left for Wales.”

“Oh, nay,” Edina cried.

“Wales,” Lydon said. Edina heard the anger in his tone.

“The maid, Willa,” Lydon continued. “The same one to whom Joseph spoke, told me after he left, both women decided Margot was well enough into her confinement that Rhianna was no longer needed. This maid said Rhianna left with two men. She insisted she was going back to Wales.”

“Nay,” Edina cried. “I don’t believe it. Why would she refuse to come? You didn’t tell Margot how sick Garrett is?”

“I didn’t talk to Margot. I talked to her maid. Margot is with child. Knowledge of Garrett’s true condition would not be good for Margot, now would it? I told the maid Rhianna was needed; that Garrett was asking for her.”

Edina flopped down on a stool beside the bed. “And she went back to Wales instead?”

“Aye.”

Edina stared at the dejected posture of her husband. She was not the only one sick with worry.

Another day passed. Edina jerked to a standing position and glared at Lydon. “I cannot do this,” she cried.

“I’ll hold him down. And, you must do this.”

“Lydon, we must find Rhianna. I don’t know how to care for him.”

“We have men looking for her,” Lydon said.

Edina listened for the reassurance in his voice, but it wasn’t there. She knew her own limitations. Garrett was not going to live, for she had not the skills to care for his wounds.

Of a sudden, loud voices proceeded stomping feet.

Hope sprang in Edina’s heart. They had found Rhianna. Now, all would be well.

But it was not Rhianna. An Arthur she had never seen before burst through the door.

“He lied to me.”

“And he is dying,” Lydon told him.

“Dying?”

“Aye. He was in a battle with your people. I suspect thoughts of your sister clouded his mind. He took two arrows to his body and the butt of a sword to his head.”

“Nay, he cannot die. We must know where Rhianna is.” He seemed enraged, for the wrong reasons, she thought.

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