Impostress (34 page)

Kiera felt her face drain of color. "Nay." But her denial sounded weak, so she forced herself to toss her head and meet the anger snapping in his eyes. "Never."

"You dare to deny that you willingly plotted to make me a fool?" His glance sliced from Kiera to Elyn and back again.

"Forgive me," Kiera whispered. " 'Twas not my ... er, our intent."

His was a quiet rage, one that transformed his features from disbelief to a florid, ruddy fury. "Why else?"

Kiera swallowed hard, forced herself to stand her ground. She finally had the chance to explain the totality of the foolish plot that Kelan had not allowed her to mention before he had left. " 'Twas only supposed to be for a night," she said in a rush. "I would say the vows, hide in the chamber, and see that you didn't leave ... The vials, they were to trick you, aye, into sleeping as if you were dead and, when you awoke, to see that the sheets were stained so that ... so that ..." She gulped and her courage faltered.

"So that I would mistakenly think we had made love," he said through lips that barely moved.

"Yes ... I know it sounds foolish, daft even, and— and 'twas wrong, but we thought there would be no harm done and after that first night, Elyn would return and ... and then we would switch back."

"Switch back," he repeated, spitting out the words. His lips were bloodless. His face tightened with a seething, growing wrath, and a tic above his eye pulsed against the restraint that was evident in the cords of his neck. "I don't believe you," he charged, his voice low. Deadly.

"Why would I lie?"

"That is the question, is it not?" Kelan sneered while still he held her wrist with his deadly, crushing fingers.

"Kiera speaks the truth," Elyn said boldly as she stared at the fire. "I didn't want to marry you or anyone my father chose. I thought I should be able to pick the man I was to marry. Father, of course, disagreed. He thought of me as a prize he could barter and trade at his will." Her nostrils flared as if she'd just smelled cattle dung in the castle.

The fingers around Kiera's wrist clenched so tight she thought her bones would snap. "So if you truly are Elyn of Lawenydd, and you're the shy Kiera, why did you agree?"

Kiera said, "I owed her my life. I told you of Obsidian, the horse you call Ares. The night I took him out I came upon an outlaw who attacked me. Elyn followed me and wounded the man before ... before he hurt me. I felt I owed her my life and so ..." Her heart wrenched and she could barely breathe as she admitted the rest. "And so I swore I would do anything she asked in return."

"And that favor was to stand in for her during the wedding ceremony, to bed me while she was ... where?" Kelan's gaze moved to Elyn in her tattered, dirty blue mantle and stringy hair. Despite her bedraggled appearance, she lifted her chin, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and glared back at him, all the while remaining stonily silent.

Kiera didn't say a word, couldn't betray her sister. And so the room grew cold. Unspoken accusations and alibis hid within the dark corners. Only the quiet hiss of the fire broke the silence.

Kelan turned his harsh gaze back to Kiera. "Tell me."

"I wasn't supposed to bed you. You ... you were supposed not to awaken 'till morn," Kiera quickly said, skirting the issue of Elyn's relationship to Brock. It worked; Kelan became even more furious.

"From the potion you slipped into my wine," he snarled, his temper snapping and all restraint lost. "You lied to me. Both of you and probably others as well. You pretended to be my wife, acted the part while making me a fool for you."

Kiera's arm ached; her heart tore. Kelan must've guessed her pain. In disgust he dropped her wrist and strode to the fire to glare down at Elyn. "Speak, Elyn of Lawenydd."

"All right. Kiera speaks the truth!" Elyn finally admitted, blinking against tears and rubbing her arms with her hands as if she was cold to her bones. "All of it, 'tis true." She managed to climb to her feet, and though her legs wobbled, she met Kelan's—her husband's—incensed gaze with her own. "This plan was all my idea. I forced Kiera to be a part of my plan because of the debt she owed me."

Kiera touched the chain around her neck, and the jeweled cross felt as heavy as an anvil.

"She was
forced?"
he mocked, shaking his head.

"She owed me a debt. By standing in for me at the altar and pretending to be me, she paid it. She did everything because of honor, no matter what you may think. And the bald truth of the matter, Kelan of Penbrooke, is that I am your legal wife, if only in name, but I am here to take my place ... Kiera took the vows for me, in my stead, with my blessing."

The words echoed through the room, reverberating painfully in Kiera's heart.

"You are not my wife, nor will you ever be," Kelan spat in disgust. He glanced over his shoulder to Kiera. For a heartbeat she caught a glimpse of pain, of raw agony, but it disappeared quickly.

Kiera wanted to die.

"You will both be locked into separate rooms until I find out what the devil is going on," he said.

An alarm bell sounded, clanging loudly, pealing through the keep. Outside the door, men shouted wildly and footsteps thundered.

"What the devil?" Kelan muttered, reaching for his sword as Tadd and Morwenna raced from the upper hallways only to stop stock-still at the great hall.

"Elyn!" Morwenna said, her gaze landing on Kiera's sister.

"What's the trouble?" Tadd demanded.

"It seems as if I married the wrong sister," Kelan said as the door burst open and a guard, dragging a screaming, wild-haired woman behind him, entered. She was kicking and fighting, looking half mad.

"Unhand me!" she snarled, drawing herself up to her full height, her eyes scanning each face in the room only to halt at Elyn's. "I knew it," she muttered, pulling free of the burly sentry.

Kelan's gaze landed upon her. "Who are you?"

"Wynnifrydd of Fenn," Elyn answered boldly, some of her old fire returning.

"Where is he? Where's Brock? I followed him here." Wynnifrydd advanced upon Elyn as if she intended to rip her eyes from their sockets.

"Are you mad, woman?" Tadd demanded.

Wynnifrydd's gaze darted quickly from the corridors to the great hall, searching every corner, every shadow. "He's here," she insisted, "but you've hidden the coward. That disgusting stableboy dragged him to Lawenydd, but he escaped and he came here to see for himself if she"—Wynnifrydd's gaze landed on Elyn—"was dead or alive. You've hidden him," she charged, advancing upon Elyn again. "Where is he, you filthy bitch—where in God's creation have you hidden him?"

"Stop!" Kiera ordered. "Brock isn't here."

"Then where?" Wynnifrydd demanded as Elyn pushed herself upright. Though weak and shorter than Wynnifrydd, Elyn held her stare.

"I thought he was to marry you. That you were carrying his child," Elyn stated.

Something flickered in the taller woman's gaze, a lie that couldn't quite be hidden.

"There was no child," Elyn said, understanding Wynnifrydd's lie, and whatever color was in her face drained. Pain, unlike any other, surfaced in her gaze. "You lied to him. So that he would marry you. There never was a babe."

"I just need to find him."

"You pathetic witch." With all her strength, Elyn flung her body at Wynnifrydd, knocking over her chair as she pushed the other woman onto the floor. Together they fought, arms flailing, nails clawing teeth bared as they screamed at each other.

"Wait! Stop!" Kiera cried, and threw herself upon the rolling women as she vainly tried to drag her sister off Wynnifrydd. But the fight was in full heat, the women struggling, hands at throats, fingers pulling hair. Tadd and Kelan each grabbed one of the women, but still they lunged at each other.

From the corner of her eye, Kiera saw the glint of a blade, a long, curved blade that Wynnifrydd had pulled from her cloak.

"Watch out!" Kiera cried as the wicked knife arced upward above Elyn's chest. "Nay!" She flung her body over her sister's.

Wynnifrydd's blade slashed downward.

Kiera twisted, scrabbled blindly, trying to wrest the weapon.

Morwenna screamed in warning, but it was too late.

Pain burned through Kiera's chest. Roaring, Kelan picked up Wynnifrydd and flung her across the room. "Nay! Oh, nay ... not here ... not this one ..."

Wynnifrydd landed hard, but even in her pained state, Kiera saw the tall woman struggle to her feet. She wasn't finished. Tadd vaulted a broken chair and tried to restrain the madwoman, but Wynnifrydd, in full fury, slashed and chopped, her deadly blade slicing anything that came into its path.

"Stop!" Tadd held Wynnifrydd around the waist, picking her off the floor and hauling her kicking, screaming, and clawing toward the far wall. Her sharp knife hacked at him and he sucked in breath through his teeth as it found his arm. "Christ Jesus, stop it!" he growled, grabbing her wrist and banging her hand against the wall until her fingers opened and the long blade clattered to the floor.

"Call the physician!" Kelan barked, holding Kiera close as she felt blood oozing from her wound. The world was growing darker, but the strength of Kelan's arms was comforting. Elyn was alive ... alive. Kiera glanced at her sister, feeling the lifeblood draining from her, knowing that a dark stain was spreading over her clothes. There was a horrid, plaintive cry from the hallway, and Joseph, half dressed, rounded the corner. He took one look at the bloody great hall and ran to Elyn's side.

"Oh, lady," he whispered. "Oh, lady, lady ..."

Kelan's arms tightened around Kiera. "Elyn, please ... do not leave me. Do not."

"I'm not Elyn," she said, fighting the blackness threatening to close in on her. The room was dimmer, the fire far away, and as she stared into Kelan's tortured eyes she felt incredible remorse. "I'm sorry," she forced out, and blinked hard as she lifted a hand to touch his cheek. "I love you."

He swallowed, and the words she'd hoped to hear, the admission that he cared for her, did not come. As she struggled with consciousness, she knew he would never forgive her. Never. How could he? What she'd done was unforgivable, a sin she would take with her to her grave.

"Are you going to punish her forever?" Morwenna demanded as she sighted on a stag drew back her arrow, and let the deadly missile fly. It zinged over the deer's shoulder. The animal sprang lithely over a fallen log and disappeared into the forest. "Damn!"

The hounds, baying woefully, took up the chase but it was too late. She slid a glance at her brother, who, astride his horse, was watching the fleeing stag escape.

"You can't keep her locked away like a common thief. Tadd, Bryanna, Daylynn and I all agree. 'Tis madness and has to end." It had been nearly two months since Kiera had been injured by the crazed Wynnifrydd of Fenn in what seemed like a bad nightmare.

"Why not?" He dropped to the ground next to her. "Bad luck, that," he said, nodding toward the disappearing deer.

"There is no reason for Kiera to pay any longer. 'Tis cruel. You, brother, have made your point."

"I'm having the marriage to Elyn annulled."

"And what then?"

He shrugged. "I know not," he said, and wished the ache in his heart would subside. He knew that he'd loved the woman who had pretended to be his wife, had trusted her when he felt it was obvious to everyone that she had been lying to him. Made him a laughingstock.

He had given Elyn a choice. She could stand trial or join a nunnery. To no one's surprise, she'd become suddenly devout. He was lucky to be rid of her. "Why do you care? You never trusted Kiera."

"I felt something wasn't right about her." Morwenna shouldered her bow. "But I don't doubt that she loves you, Kelan. I see the misery etched upon her face. 'Tis a pity, for you will never find a woman more devoted to you than she is."

"The liar."

"Aye. The liar." She climbed astride her little mare and cast Kelan a glance that was far older than her years. "A piece of advice, brother. Do not lose this one, for I believe what Kiera feels for you is true love. And believe it or not, you aren't the most lovable creature in all of Wales."

"Nay?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow, trying to tease and failing.

"Especially now. You are so damned miserable that it's a wonder any woman, especially one with any mind whatsoever, would find you bearable." With her final remarks, Morwenna spurred her mount toward the castle, and Kelan listened to her horse's hoofbeats fade. She was right, he thought, and hated the inner admission. He was torn and miserable and, oh, God's teeth. He kicked at a pebble and set it flying into the bole of a mossy oak.

Once before, he'd left Penbrooke, intending never to return. But the draw of his home and family was too strong, and he'd found a way to have his father lift the banishment that he'd suffered. And now ... how he wanted Kiera. By the gods, he lay awake each night thinking of her, of the way she smelled, of her laughter, of the feel of her warm flesh pressed to his.

But his pride would not allow him to go to her. He'd only agreed that she could stay at Penbrooke until she had her child; then she would leave. But not with the babe. The child, his heir, was to stay here.

But it will be a bastard, for you have never been married to Kiera.

Unless you claim it as your own.

Kelan gritted his teeth. Silently he rued the day he'd first seen her, the shy bride behind her thick veil. From the first moment he'd laid eyes upon her, he'd been smitten. And she had proved herself, had she not, throwing her body between Wynnifrydd's knife and Elyn's heart? She'd nearly died herself for her act of bravery, but could he trust her? After all the lies?

Climbing upon his steed, Kelan scanned the horizon, watching the winter-white clouds skim over the hills and forests. For the first time in his life he didn't know what to do. His heart ached each day at the thought of Kiera's lies, of her betrayal ... and yet the thought of living without her, of being unable to see her smile, or not feeling the gentle bite of her sharp tongue when they argued, or ...