Release me to my peace, Nicole. Kill him! Kill him now!
Never. Never!
Remember how you loved me! Remember your grief at my death! Avenge me, dearest!
Oh, how well she remembered. Her young heart had inconsolably ached for her golden, beloved brother, dead on his bier, so dear and so cold. Her heart still ached, but not because of grief.
During the years since the one time she’d tried to obey her brother’s demands, had come so close to stabbing Alberic, she’d anguished over William’s inability to give up his anger and hatred, to see beyond his narrow-sighted, selfish, and unwarranted need for revenge.
Why couldn’t she find the proper words to force him to realize his folly?
Alberic killed you in defense of his own life! You attacked him in honorable battle. You unreasonably blame Alberic for being the victor in a fight he did not seek!
See him, Nicole! He wears no chain mail or sword! He is vulnerable! Kill him!
William wasn’t listening, not truly responding to her pleas for reason. He
never
did.
The hopelessness of his spirit being bound to the earthly realm, and her frustration over her failure to reach him, brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes.
Someone grabbed hold of her leg. Rhodri.
His mouth was tight, his eyes narrowed. “Are you in pain?”
Her physical reaction to William’s voice must have alerted Rhodri to her inner struggle, and while his touch and voice soothed her, nothing could make William’s malevolence less difficult to bear.
“Only heartsore,” she answered. “William rants at me to kill Alberic and refuses to listen to reason. I desperately want to help him move on, but I know not how to convince him.”
Kill Alberic! Use the dagger, Nicole. One swift strike to his villainous heart and I will be avenged!
Alberic is no villain. Have you no notion of how wonderfully he treats our sister Gwendolyn, or how fairly and prosperously he rules Camelen? Give over, William. I pray you. I beg of you!
Rhodri pulled her down from the horse. She clung to his tunic, shedding tears against his chest, grateful for those strong arms supporting her.
So easy to end our suffering, Nicole. Do it, do it now!
I cannot. I cannot.
Knowing she must silence her brother or suffer further, hating that she’d failed William this time, too, Nicole closed her eyes. In her head formed a stone wall, becoming higher and thicker, separating her from William.
Nay, Nicole! I will not be silenced! By the love you bear me, do not—
William continued to batter her defenses, as he would until she was once again well away from Alberic. Keeping the wall from crumbling would be an exhausting endeavor, one she willingly endured in order to have a few moments with Alberic.
From within the circle of Rhodri’s arms, she glanced at the two men who stood together in the inn’s yard. Darian made some comment to Alberic, who nodded in response.
Sweet mercy, if Darian had harbored any notions of how she and Rhodri had spent last night, he must now be sure of his conjecture. Had he told Alberic? Would he be angry, treat her differently now?
But then, however Alberic or Darian felt about her taking Rhodri as her lover wasn’t important. For the nonce, her body was her own, as was the decision of to whom she would yield its use. Until she must marry and was forced to bed a husband—and she didn’t much care whether that unknown and undesired husband objected to the loss of her virginity or not—she would do with her body as she pleased.
She pleased to allow Rhodri whatever liberties he wished to take, whenever he wished to take them.
Disinclined to give up Rhodri’s comforting embrace, but knowing she must, Nicole pushed at his chest. “We can go on now.”
Rhodri didn’t move, or release her. “Your brother does not talk to you, he attacks you. How do you bear it?”
Today’s attack had been particularly savage, more so than the last time he’d known Alberic within her reach.
On a humorless burst of laughter, she admitted, “Sometimes better than others.”
His gaze strayed over to the inn’s yard. “Alberic knew you would suffer and yet insisted he see you. The man is cruel.”
“Never that. You will see for yourself when you get to know him. Please, Rhodri, I have silenced William for the nonce but cannot hold him at bay forever.”
He let go of her then.
“We should just ride on past the inn,” he grumbled, but he tugged on the reins to lead the horse into the yard.
The nearer she came to the man William hated above all others, the more he pounded against the wall. Resolved to hold out against her brother, to not let him interfere with her reunion with Alberic, she stepped into Alberic’s open arms.
Alberic’s embrace was quick but heartfelt.
“You gave us a fright, little one,” he said gently.
“So Darian said, and he has already given me a lecture so you need not.”
“Aye, so he told me. Come into the inn. We need to talk.”
Talk. Which meant Alberic wasn’t yet set on the course he meant to take. If he’d already decided to take her to Camelen, he would have horses and provisions at the ready.
Nicole began to hold hope that they could all converse amiably, until Alberic pointed angrily, accusingly at Rhodri.
“And you, master bard, had best have a damn good reason for putting our Nicole in danger, or the next tune you strum will be to entertain the angels!”
R
hodri’s doubts over Nicole’s ability to hear the dead had vanished, cast out by the attack that had doubled her over and brought her to tears.
In the inn’s dim, stale, otherwise unoccupied taproom, he stood off to the side and sipped watery ale while Nicole and her brothers-by-marriage sat at a table and spoke of family matters—at Nicole’s insistence. Her foremost interest was in news of her sisters’ children, which the proud fathers were most willing to provide.
She smiled, but the lack of sparkle in her eyes and the fleeting appearance of furrows on her brow revealed how hard she fought to hold her brother’s voice at bay.
“And Gwen will give birth any moment now,” Nicole commented. “Truly, Alberic, you should not have left her.”
Unflustered by the scold, Alberic crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Nay, I should not have, but Gwendolyn and Emma will have no peace until they know you are safe.”
Alberic hadn’t spoken harshly, so Nicole’s wince made no sense until he realized what must be happening.
William had broken through her defenses and was no longer silent.
Before he could move toward her, Darian rose from the bench and held out his hand. “Come, Nicole. We have rooms upstairs. Best you rest for a time.”
Tears again welled in her eyes. She nodded agreement at Darian, then reached across the narrow table and placed a hand on Alberic’s arm.
“I am so sorry, Alberic.” She took a deep breath, her mouth tight, as if in pain. “You know I love you and would never harm you.”
Alberic didn’t move a muscle, purposely holding himself very still and quiet.
“I know, little one. I love you, too,” he said with a tenderness that, to Rhodri, didn’t seem possible for a man of his rank and reputation. “Go with Darian.”
She rose, and Rhodri fought to remain where he was, wrestling with the impulse to sweep Nicole out of the inn, steal a horse, and ride away.
But they would never make it out the door.
Nicole cast moist eyes his way and tried to smile. “You should play your harp while you talk to Alberic. Music always sweetens his mood.”
Her attempt to jest when in distress hit him in the heart and tightened his grip on the tankard. “I will keep your suggestion in mind.”
Without further word, she grasped Darian’s hand and allowed him to lead her up the stairs.
The thought crossed his mind that he might never see her again. Alberic intended to take Nicole back to Camelen, Rhodri was sure, unless he or Nicole could convince the baron otherwise.
Since Nicole was in no condition to argue the case, that task was left to him. Unwilling to feel the underling, Rhodri took the seat on the bench Nicole had vacated and faced Alberic squarely.
Where to start? What did Alberic most want to know?
“Nicole has come to no harm, I assure you, even though naught has gone as planned since I arrived at Bledloe Abbey.”
Alberic moved then, but merely to pick up his own tankard and take a healthy swallow of ale.
“Did we not believe Nicole willingly left Oxford with you, or that she suffered nary so much as a bruise, Darian would have slit your throat and left you where he found you this morn.”
Rhodri had no cause to disbelieve. The mercenary might well have succeeded, given the circumstances. Both of Nicole’s brothers-by-marriage were dangerous men, though Rhodri didn’t consider himself their inferior.
Still, he decided not to mention how he’d used Nicole to escape the tower cell, even though Alberic had probably learned of it from the earl’s messenger.
“Nicole came willingly enough. She was displeased with the earl for removing her from Bledloe Abbey and was most unhappy that the king planned to negotiate her marriage to a Welsh prince without consulting either her or you.”
“Nicole is the king’s ward. He has the right to negotiate her marriage.”
A slight tightening around Alberic’s mouth said he didn’t like it, either.
Darian slid onto the bench next to Alberic. Damn! How had he not heard the man come down the stairs or cross the floor? Rhodri knew how to move quietly, but Darian seemed to slip through air like a wraith.
Then Darian smiled and seemed human again. “Nicole fell onto the bed like she had never seen anything so grand before. She will try to sleep for a time and then join us for nooning, which she says she is greatly looking forward to.”
Rhodri managed to keep his stomach from growling at the thought of food, of meat—and at the memory of a certain pig he would dearly have loved to roast.
“Is it possible the innkeeper can provide pork?”
Alberic raised an eyebrow. “One would think you would not be particular in the victuals available.”
He wasn’t, and neither would be Nicole. However, the pork would surely jar her memory of the pig, perhaps make her smile.
“I ask only because Nicole has had a yearning for pork for several days. It would be a small thing to please her.”
Alberic nodded, and Rhodri didn’t doubt Nicole would have pork for her nooning if Alberic had to hunt down a pig and slaughter it himself.
“Why did Connor send you to Bledloe?”
Rhodri opened his mouth to tell the same tale he’d told everyone, even Nicole, then took a sip of ale instead, chagrined that he couldn’t bring himself to lie anymore.
His respect for both men had risen with each protective gesture and kindness shown to Nicole. Though the three were related only through marriage, she loved these men, and they loved her in return. They were her family, and far and above everyone else involved, they truly had Nicole’s best interests at heart. Even above her Welsh uncle.
Even above himself.
And both of these men were suspicious of him. One or the other would know the tale for an untruth. If he had any chance of convincing them to allow Nicole to go to Wales, then a true and full accounting might serve him well.
“When Connor received Gwendolyn’s letter, he realized what effect Prince Eustace’s death would have on your King Stephen and the war with Duke Henry. More personally, he berated himself for what he sees as neglect of his nieces when their father died. He expressed the wish that he had gone to fetch them immediately to save them from the king’s machinations in their lives.”
Neither man reacted unfavorably, even though neither would be married to Nicole’s sisters, the wives they now cherished, had the king not ordered those marriages.
Rhodri continued. “So Connor believes it is his duty to do right by Nicole, and he thought the best chance of success was to send me to fetch her.”
Alberic gave a short burst of humorless laughter. “I have had dealings with Connor. There is more to this than a sudden wish to play the good uncle to Nicole!”
“Certes, there is. Connor is also mindful of her Pendragon heritage. According to him, the line can remain strong only if there is a Welsh branch. He knows the king means to marry her to a Welsh noble but fears which one the king might choose.”
Alberic again leaned forward. “So it is as I guessed. Connor wishes to use Nicole for his own selfish reasons.”
Rhodri fought to keep his sudden ire under control. “Did not your king intend to do the same, without consideration to either you or Nicole? If Connor chooses Nicole’s husband, then at the least, the decision will be made in an effort to unite Wales and further the cause of peace! The same cannot be said of Stephen.”
“Or the marriage may give Connor’s choice of her husband ill-founded notions of greatness and cause more jealousy and strife than already exists. Has Connor a man in mind?”
Probably, though Connor hadn’t said who that might be.
“Not that he confided to me,” Rhodri admitted, wishing he knew so he could put Alberic’s concerns to rest.
All this talk of giving Nicole to another man, no matter who that man might be, soured Rhodri’s stomach. No matter how much it saddened and sickened him that she was but a pawn in political affairs, there was naught he could do to stop it. He would be forced to deal with his personal distaste for her arranged marriage when the time came.
For now, all he could do was convince Alberic not to take Nicole into his custody, and the best reason had naught to do with England or Wales, king or princes, war or peace.
“My lords, I realize neither of you approves of Connor’s scheme. I have my own reasons for not liking it, either. But we have come too far for Nicole to go back. The earl of Oxford will not allow her to return to Bledloe Abbey. Should she fall into his grasp, in the guise of protecting her, he will lock Nicole away at either Oxford or Headingham.”
Anticipating Alberic’s counterargument, Rhodri continued. “I grant you, the king might allow you to keep her in your custody. ’Tis known you are loyal to Stephen where other magnates are not, and Camelen is a well-fortified, ably garrisoned fortress. A safe place for Nicole to reside. But you cannot, in good conscience, ask that of her. ’Twould be the cruelest of tortures.”