Mystique (35 page)

“Nay, m’lord.” The guard studied the road from Scarcliffe. “One man wearing only a sword. He is accompanied by a woman and a child.”

“Damnation”
A sense of deep foreboding swept over Hugh. He swung around to face the open gate. “Surely he would not be so stupid as to pay a neighborly visit.”

“Who?” Dunstan asked.

The question was answered a moment later as Vincent of Rivenhall rode through into the bailey. Lady Emma and young Reginald were at his side.

Hugh groaned in disgust. “Can a man not even be allowed to enjoy the morning after his wedding night in peace?”

“It would seem that things have changed in the history of Scarcliffe,” Dunstan murmured.

Work came to a halt as everyone in the vicinity turned to stare at the newcomers. Grooms rushed up to take the heads of the visitors’ horses.

Hugh watched morosely as Vincent dismounted and
turned to assist Emma from her mare. Young Reginald hopped down from his saddle and grinned at Hugh.

Vincent, his face set in lines of grim determination, took his wife’s arm and walked forward as though he went to the gallows.

“Sir Hugh.” He came to a halt in front of his reluctant host and nodded stiffly.

“I see you finally left off your jousting long enough to pay your estates a visit,” Hugh said laconically. “What a pity you did not do so earlier. You would have saved my wife a deal of trouble.”

Vincent flushed deeply and set his jaw. “I comprehend that T am in your debt, Sir Hugh.”

“If you are in anyone’s debt, it is my wife’s. I do not want you laboring under the assumption that you owe me a damn thing.”

“Believe me, I have no desire to be beholden to you, my lord.” Vincent spoke through gritted teeth. “Nevertheless, I must thank you for what you did for my wife and son.”

“Save your thanks. I do not want them.”

“Then I will give them to your lady,” Vincent snarled.

“That won’t be necessary. Lady Alice is at work in her study chamber this morning.” It occurred to Hugh that he had better rid the yard of the Rivenhall crowd before Alice realized they had visitors. “She does not care to be interrupted.”

Emma spoke up quickly. “We understand that you were wed yesterday, my lord. We have come to offer you our congratulations.” She gave him a tremulous but gracious smile.

Hugh barely inclined his head in acknowledgment. “You will forgive me if I do not declare a banquet to celebrate your unexpected presence in my bailey, madam. In truth we are not able to entertain at the moment. We are concerned with more pressing matters.”

Emma’s face fell.

Vincent glowered furiously. “Damn your eyes, cousin, I will discharge this debt if it is the last thing I do.”

“You may do so by seeing to the welfare of your own keep so that Scarcliffe never again finds itself obliged to
defend Rivenhall lands.” Hugh smiled thinly. “I’m certain you understand my feelings on the matter. Rescuing Rivenhall goes much against the grain.”

“No more so than having to be the recipient of Scarcliffe’s assistance goes against mine,” Vincent retorted.

“Lady Emma. Lady Emma.”
Alice’s cheery voice got the attention of everyone in the bailey. “Welcome. How wonderful that you have come.”

“God’s teeth,” Hugh muttered. So much for getting Vincent and his family out of the bailey before Alice learned of their presence.

He and the others raised their eyes to the tower window. Alice leaned partway out of the narrow opening, madly waving a kerchief in greeting. Even from this distance, Hugh could see that her face was alight with excitement.

“You are just in time to join us for the midday meal,” Alice shouted down to Emma.

“Thank you, my lady,” Emma called back. “We are delighted to be able to dine with you.”

“I’ll be right down.” Alice disappeared from the window.

“Blood of Satan,” Vincent said sourly. “I was afraid of this.”

“Aye,” Hugh muttered. It was clear that Alice and Emma had established a fast friendship.

“‘Tis a wise man who knows when to retreat,” Dunstan offered helpfully.

Hugh and Vincent both turned on him with ferocious scowls.

Dunstan spread his hands in a placating gesture. “I’ll see to the horses.”

T
wo hours later Alice stood with Emma at the window of the study chamber and watched anxiously as Hugh and Vincent crossed the yard together. The two men were headed for the stables.

“Well, at least they did not go at each other’s throats with their eating knives during the meal,” Alice commented.

They had dined in an atmosphere of tension that could not have been good for anyone’s digestion, but there had been no outbreak of violence, much to Alice’s relief. She and Emma had kept the conversation moving along at a brisk pace while Hugh and Vincent had downed their food in grim silence. The one or two remarks exchanged between the men had been in the nature of sharp, taunting barbs.

“Aye.” Emma’s brows drew together in an uneasy expression as she watched the men enter the stables. “They are both innocent victims of that old feud between their families. Neither of them had anything to do with what happened all those years ago, but their elders burdened them both with the anger and the demand for vengeance.”

Alice glanced at her. “What do you know of the history of the feud?”

“Merely what everyone else knows. Matthew of Rivenhall was betrothed to another when he seduced Lady Margaret, your husband’s mother. He went off to France for nearly a year, during which time Hugh was born. When Sir Matthew returned he apparently went to see Margaret.”

“And died?”

“The men of Rivenhall are convinced that she fed him poison that night and then drank the evil potion herself.”

Alice sighed. “So ‘tis unlikely that Sir Matthew went to see her to tell her that he intended to wed her, then.”

Emma smiled sadly. “Lord Vincent assures me that there was no possibility of his uncle breaking his betrothal to the heiress. The match was a rich one and both families wanted it. But mayhap Sir Matthew intended to keep Lady Margaret as his leman.”

“And she was too proud to continue as his lover while he wed another.” Alice shook her head. “I can comprehend her feelings on the matter.”

“Aye,” Emma met her eyes. “But I doubt that one of your gentle nature would have resorted to poison in order to obtain your vengeance. And you surely would not have taken the potion yourself, thereby leaving your infant son motherless.”

“Nay, I would not have done that, no matter how
angry I was.” She touched her belly with fleeting fingers. She might even now be carrying Hugh’s babe. The thought sent a wave of fierce protectiveness through her.

“Neither of us would have done such a thing,” Emma whispered.

Alice thought of Calvert of Oxwick, dead by poison. She shivered as though an icy wind had touched her. “What if Lady Margaret did not do it, either?”

Emma gave her a bemused look. “What do you mean? There is no other explanation for what happened that night.”

“You are wrong, Emma,” Alice said slowly. “There is one other possibility. What if someone else fed Sir Matthew and Margaret the poison?”

“For what reason? It makes no sense. No one else had a motive.”

“I suppose you are right and in any event we cannot know the truth at this late date.”
Unless, after all these years, the poisoner had returned to Scarcliffe
, she thought.
But why choose the monk as a victim?

Thoughts churned in Alice’s brain, making her suddenly restless. She turned away from the window, crossed the chamber to her desk, and picked up the green crystal. “Would you care to see my collection of stones, Lady Emma?”

“Stones? I did not know that anyone collected stones.”

“I intend to write a book describing the various kinds.”

“Really?” Emma glanced down into the bailey and froze. “Dear heaven, what are they doing?”

“Who?”

“Our husbands.” Emma’s eyes widened. She clapped her hands to her mouth in horror. “They have drawn their swords against each other.”

“They would not dare.” Alice sprang for the window and leaned out to get a clear view.

She saw at once that Emma was right. In the center of the bailey, Hugh and Vincent faced each other. Their bare swords gleamed in the sun. Neither man had donned helm or hauberk, but each carried a small shield. The villagers
who had been doing repairs and several of the men-at-arms had put down their tools. A crowd quickly gathered to watch.

“Stop that nonsense at once,” Alice yelled from the window. “I will not have it, do you hear me?”

The crowd in the bailey looked up at her. Several of the men hid wide grins. Alice saw a number of them turn to one another and mutter behind their hands. She knew they were placing wagers.

Hugh glanced at the window with a quelling glare. “Go back to your stones and beetles, madam. This is men’s sport.”

“I do not want any swordplay between you and our guest, my lord.” Alice gripped the windowsill very tightly. “Find some other way to entertain Sir Vincent.”

Vincent looked up. Even from this distance it was possible to see the feral quality of his smile. “I assure you, my lady, I am well content with this entertainment. Indeed, I cannot think of anything I would enjoy more than a bit of sword practice with your lord.”

Emma glowered down at her husband. “Sir, we are guests in this house. I bid you respect Lady Alice’s request.”

“But her lord has suggested this sport,” Vincent called. “How can I refuse?”

Alice leaned farther out the window. “Sir Hugh, kindly inform your guest that you wish to pursue other sport with him.”

“What other sport would you suggest, madam?” Hugh asked innocently. “Shall we engage in some practice with the lance, mayhap?”

Alice lost her temper. “Show Sir Vincent the new refuse ditch, if you cannot think of anything more entertaining. I do not care what you do, but I will not allow the two of you to stage a joust in this keep. Do I make myself clear, sir?”

A breathless silence emanated from the bailey. All eyes were on the tower window.

Hugh studied her very intently for a moment. “You will not allow it?” he finally repeated carefully.

Alice took a deep breath. Her fingers dug into the sill.
“You heard me. ‘Tis not a seemly way in which to amuse a guest.”

“Madam, it may have escaped your notice, but I am lord of this keep. I will entertain my guest as I see fit.”

“Do you recall the boon you promised me last night, sir?”

“Alice.”

“I am claiming it now, my lord.”

Hugh’s expression was more dangerous than it had been at any time during the meal. He held himself quite still for a few taut seconds and then, with a lethal
whoosh
, he rammed his blade back into its scabbard.

“Very well, madam,” he said without inflection. “You have claimed the boon and it has been granted.” He smiled coldly. “I shall show Sir Vincent the village ditch.”

Vincent gave a roar of laughter, sheathed his sword, and clapped Hugh roughly on the shoulder. “Do not concern yourself, sir,” he said, not without sympathy. “I have every confidence that you will soon adjust to married life.”

A
short while later Hugh rode past the convent in the company of the man he had been taught to hate since birth. Neither he nor Vincent had spoken since they had ridden out of Scarcliffe Keep.

“Are you actually going to show me the village ditch?” Vincent asked dryly.

Hugh grimaced. “Nay. In truth there is a matter we should no doubt discuss.” He had been debating how much to tell Vincent concerning the murder of Calvert and he had finally come to a conclusion.

“If you intend to lecture me further on my duties to Rivenhall, you may save your breath. I have finally acquired enough money from the jousts to enable me to see to my estates. I do not intend to leave them again.”

Hugh shrugged. “That is your affair. But as we are neighbors whether we like it or not, you should know that murder has been done very recently on these lands.”

“Murder?” Vincent shot him a startled glance. “Who was killed?”

“I discovered the body of a wandering monk named
Calvert of Oxwick in one of the cliff caves. I believe he may have been killed by robbers.”

“Why would anyone kill a monk?”

Hugh hesitated briefly. “Because he was searching for the Stones of Scarcliffe.”

Vincent snorted in disbelief. “That is nothing but an old tale. If there ever were any Stones of Scarcliffe, they have long since disappeared.”

“Aye, but there are always those who believe in legends. The monk may have been one.”

“And the murderer?”

“He may have also believed in the legend,” Hugh said softly.

Vincent frowned. “If a thief killed the monk for the sake of a nonexistent treasure, he has no doubt realized his mistake by now. Likely he has already departed these lands.”

“Aye. But in light of the fact that you’ve decided to return to your manor and assume your responsibilities, I thought you might want to take note of the incident. Neither of us needs a murderer in the neighborhood.”

“You wield sarcasm as well as you do a sword, Sir Hugh.”

“‘Tis the only weapon my wife has seen fit to leave me today,” Hugh muttered.

Vincent was quiet for a moment. The hooves of the horses thudded softly in the dirt. Several of the nuns at work in the convent gardens glanced at the pair. The miller’s son waved energetically from the shelter of his parents’ cottage.

“Sir Hugh, Sir Hugh,” the boy cried happily.

Hugh lifted a hand in greeting. Young John laughed with delight.

Vincent watched the boy disappear into the cottage. Then he looked at Hugh. “They say that Erasmus of Thornewood is near death.”

“Aye.”

“I shall miss him,” Vincent said sincerely. “Other than his demand that you and I not go to war with each other, he has been a good liege.”

“Very good.”

Vincent glanced around at the repaired cottages. “You have accomplished much here in the past few months, Sir Hugh.”

“Aye. With the aid of my wife.” Hugh knew a deep sense of pride and satisfaction. Order and stability had been brought to Scarcliffe. In the spring, it would begin to know prosperity as well.