So Worthy My Love (23 page)

“I vowed to that snippet that I could not, for her own safety, see her sent back with the seas raging with storms, but she has set herself to be a thorn planted deeply in my side to ever pain and prick me until she is plucked and gone from sight. She intends to see her own ends met while strewing mine to willy ned and back She cannot understand my head is forfeit if I venture to return.”

Von Reijn took a long draught of wine and managed to control his spasms while Maxim calmed and likewise serviced his brew.

“Ah ha!” Von Reijn's mirth almost came out again, but he lowered the glass with care, studious of face. “I see yur plight, Maxim. But tell me, vhat of this damsel? Who is she? Surely one so comely and so fair of . . .”

“
Comely?
” Maxim almost barked. “
Fair?
‘Tis in my mind a slavering wolf upon the moor would cause me less concern. Verily I say, ‘tis only safe to venture near that one with blade half-drawn and shield at the ready if you value the wholeness of your skin.” He sipped from his mug and, with his improving mood, felt his hunger grow apace. He seized a chop and took a bite before he noticed the remaining question in the captain's eyes.

“Elise Radborne is her name.” He waved a chop and took another bite. “Cousin to the Stamfords. Arabella must have left her chambers for some reason, and this wench was there when my men, not knowing one from the other, wrapped her up and brought her here.” His frown grew sharp once again. “What should I do with the chit, Nicholas? She sets me on edge, and though I would be much relieved to see her gone, they would lift my head from my shoulders if I ventured back to England.”

Nicholas shrugged. “The answer seems simple enough if yu be fond of yur head, my friend. Yu must endure her presence for at least a time. But tell me, Maxim.” He scarcely could control his eagerness as he approached the subject of his first passion. “Since yu have no fondness for this . . . ah . . . person, perhaps yu vould not be against this lady enjoying the companionship of a . . . ah . . . em . . . as you English say . . . a suitor?”

“What say you, Nicholas?” Maxim straightened and stared aghast at his friend, thinking him daft. But then, who was he to dictate a man's fancy? “You would pay court to such a one as she?”

Nicholas hunched his shoulders against the other's scorn and dipped his head aside with a half-cocked grin. “I find the lady . . .”—he toyed with his glass— “ . . . most delec . . . ah . . . I mean . . . most comely. She has a strong spirit assuredly . . . as vell as a certain grace. She vould be a challenge to a man vith skill and patience.”

Maxim snorted. “I have no say. She is hardly my charge. If she would have you, then I would say good riddance. Mayhap ‘twould distract her vengeance from me. I can only wish you luck and good fortune should you chance upon her meaner side.”

“It is good,” Von Reijn half chortled. He sat back and, spearing a pickled plum with his dagger, nibbled at the morsel. “Vill yu be returning tonight?”

Maxim glanced at the front door. Outside the wind howled and the snow swirled like a maddened dervish, dulling his desire to leave, but it could not be helped. “I suppose I must,” he sighed, “ ‘ere she turns that pair of knobblies into stone.”

Von Reijn chose a roasted apple and, after skinning it, delicately stripped the sweet, tender flesh away. “ ‘Tis plenty enough here to eat, my friend, and yu should be yell-stocked against that journey. Be my guest.” He set a platter of roast duckling squarely in front of him and rubbed his hands in anticipation. “I svear,” he laughed, “the whole of yur tale has brought my hunger to an edge again.”

The two ate in silence for a time, savoring a variety of meats and tastes. When Maxim could eat no more, he washed down the last bite with the dregs of his brandy and declined a plate of thinly sliced beef. “No more, I pray you. No more. I shall slumber in the saddle as it is, despite the cold.”

The captain held up a hand to delay his friend. “Then vhile I have yu disposed as my guest”—he swallowed a bite of duckling and washed it down with a glass of wine—“I beg yu one more favor. Vhen yu see the maid, Elise, vill yu inform her of my intent to call upon her this Friday next? About the noon hour I vould expect. I shall of course bring a light repast vith me. I've heard the food there is somevhat lacking.”

Maxim laughed and, rising to his feet, clapped Von Reijn on the shoulder. “ ‘Tis your own shattered hopes you will bear, I fear, but I shall risk my welfare and bid the girl to be prepared for your visit.” He reached into his purse and pulled out the leather pouch of coins. “I shall settle my debt with you as one would a dying friend. You may not survive the trauma.”

Nicholas returned a pained frown to him. “Yu do not allow me to gain much interest on yur debts, Maxim. Now I vill have to invest the monies elsevhere to fetch the amount of coin I guaranteed.”

“I see no difficulty,” Maxim replied, counting out the money. “You will now have more money to invest elsewhere.”

The Hansa captain heaved a sigh. “Nay, no difficulty. I can easily sell a portion of my investment in another captain's voyage. It vould no doubt bring a
better return, but I rather think it vill not bring as much delight.”

“Delight?” Maxim queried, giving his friend a curious look. “Who is it that invests in my venture?”

“Give no heed to my ramblings, my friend,” Nicholas bade with a chuckle. “Just remember me to the maid.”

When Maxim returned to Faulder Castle that evening, the hour was close to midnight and all was silent and still, save for the low, rumbling snores of his minions who slept soundly on their pallets near the hearth. He quietly barred the repaired door behind him and made his way stealthily up the stairs. Before ascending to the third story, he moved quietly from the stairs and went to stand beside the maid's door, there to listen for a long moment. He could not hear even the faintest breath of a whisper or movement. Curiously he reached out to test the door and found it firmly barred from within. He nodded thoughtfully. It was as he had surmised; the wench would be ever cautious of her safety while he was about.

Continuing his ascent to his own chambers, he found there the welcoming warmth of a well- banked fire awaiting him A goodly supply of wood had been laid up for him on the hearth, and a small kettle had been brought to warm the water now filling a nearby bucket His gaze lifted, and to his surprise he found that his men had effected a repair to the roof through the use of a stable door secured in place to cover the hole. Even as he looked, bight flurries drifting down through the firelight indicated they had not been altogether successful. Beside the
hearth the wet furs had been laid out to dry, and upon his bed a fresh pallet temporarily stuffed with straw had replaced the sodden one. This brought to mind his need for security, and after spreading his cloak and doublet before the fire, he inspected what his men had done toward that end. Huge brackets had been placed on the inside of the frame, and a beam hewn down to size was propped nearby. With a rueful grin, he dropped the bar in place and slipped wedges behind
it to tighten it. It would take a series of mighty blows to break it down, and he could now consider himself safe from the antics of that slender young maid.

Satisfied as to his safety, Maxim pulled a bench close to the flames and slowly worked the sodden boots from his feet, placing them where the warmth of the hearth would slowly dry them. The addition of a few logs soon had a cheery blaze crackling, and he strode about the chambers, loosening the ruff of his shirt. He was still restless to a fault, and he investigated the privy and dressing room, noting that his men had brought up his chests and made use of the pegs on the walls, but he found nothing there to occupy his roaming mind.

Returning to stand near the fireplace, he reached out a hand to brace against the wall and was amazed when a portion of the wooden paneling gave beneath his weight. The area was cast in deep shadows behind a jutting corner of the stonework that formed the chimney and hearth, but tracing his fingers downward, he explored a joint and found a small latch cleverly wrought of iron hidden beneath a raised portion of wood. Lifting the same, he
pressed until the whole panel moved inward, opening onto a small, dark room. Seizing a stout candle, he lit it from the fire, then returned to the panel, pushed it wide, and stepped within. Lifting his tiny torch high, he saw that he was in a narrow space tucked between the back of the fireplace and another wall. The cubicle tapered to an end not far above his head, and no more than a pace away from him, a steep narrow stairway curved downward. He felt for the dagger he wore at his side and, confident with the presence of the weapon, eased his curiosity by following the passage
downward. The stairs were sturdy and firm, and his stockinged feet made no whisper of sound. He had gone the distance of a full floor when the stairs ended abruptly in a short passageway. There, warm stone on his right jutted up against the boards of a wall where a single door offered the only exit.

Maxim found a small latch securing it, much like the one above. He tugged, and the door gave beneath a light touch. Though he had opened it no more than the breadth of a hand, he found himself much bemused, for he was standing at the threshold of the chamber belonging to his charge, one Elise Radborne.

The fire on her hearth had burned bow, and the lady herself was sound asleep beneath several furs spread upon her bed. He pushed the door wide and, in his stocking feet, crossed the room with noiseless tread. Lifting the candle high, he looked down upon her, feeling as if he had chanced upon a victory of sorts. Her long bashes lay like dark shadows on her fair cheeks, and her soft lips were slightly parted as
she breathed long and slowly in deepest slumber. Her hair formed a dark, tumbled halo over the pillow, over which an arm rested in a flawless ivory curve above her head, leaving her shoulder and the higher, swelling curves of her bosom naked to his gaze. He allowed his gaze to linger on her face and the tempting fullness of her breasts, as one who had chosen to savor a special treat. She was more woman than child, to be sure.

He leaned slightly closer to study her more carefully. In sleep the lass seemed harmless, indeed most innocent with her delicate features and creamy skin.

“Perhaps Nicholas,” he mused, “has seen more of what I could not.”

She possessed an uncommon beauty, certainly more vivid and lively than that of the translucent paleness of Arabella. Where that one evoked a vision of ivory and lace, this one seemed to exude the very essence of life. Both women, by their striking and stirring comeliness, were set well apart from others. Invariably they would be easily noted in any crowd.

Maxim passed to the hearth where he carefully laid fresh logs on the coals, then silently withdrew, taking note that the latch on her side of the door had been removed. Seeing the adjustments, he entertained a glimmer of hope for his henchmen. When, several moments later, he closed the door of his chamber behind him, he found a small stick of firewood in the pile and, as a precaution, wedged it tightly against the latch to prevent the panel from being opened from the other side. On the morrow he
would remove the barrier, for it was to his benefit to keep the passageway a secret, at least for the time being.

He stoked his own fire, then arranged the furs on his bed, doffed the remainder of his clothes, and sought a warm spot to indulge his slumbers. A knowing smile curved his lips as his thoughts turned back to the vision he had just seen, and he drifted into the arms of Morpheus, no longer dreaming of Arabella.

T
HE DAWNING SUN
burst upon the land, sending long streamers of light shining across the vast empyrean. In the eastern sphere the morning sky was bathed in spectacular hues of magenta pinks and dulled to a dark grayish-blue on the western horizon. Puffy white clouds with gilded edges seemed to glow with a luminescence of their own as they drifted near the sun's face. Against such splendor the dark silhouette of the hilltop dwelling stood out in bold relief, like some slowly decaying sentinel. Its dulling presence could easily serve as a reminder to the world that man's attempts were all too frail and fleeting against the contrast of more heavenly and eternal creations.

Maxim opened a frosty panel of octagonal leaded glass to view the radiant panorama. He relished the zesty tingle as the crisp morning air caressed his naked body and washed the last dregs of sleep from him. He stretched his right arm upward, then winced slightly as the muscles twitched in his back, a frequent and painful reminder of his most recent wound.

A chill breeze wafted over him, eliciting a shiver and prompting him to pull a woolen mantle
around his shoulders. He leaned out, letting his gaze range far and free before bringing it inward to the courtyard and its tumbled structures. A bleak smile curved his lips as he surveyed his newly acquired domain. Nearby a week had passed since his confrontation with Hans Rubert, but he was by no means the richer for his purchase. To say that he had come down in the world was putting it mildly; by the Queen's own decree he could lay no claim to his wealth or title. If ever he would be allowed to return to England as rightful lord of all he had once owned, he would first have to present evidence of his innocence to Elizabeth. Just how he might go about that involved more than merely setting his mind to the matter, for it did not promise to be a simple task.

Maxim could hear the animals nickering for their morning grain and knew that Fitch and Spence were moving about in the stables. His gaze drifted elsewhere, moving along the path that led beyond the main gate. Piqued by a sudden curiosity, he dropped his eyes downward alongside the keep to the windows just below his. If the little vixen was up and about and bent on some chicanery, he saw no visible evidence. The lead-glass panels were tightly closed against the wintry chill, but even as he watched a window opened and the maid appeared with only a fur pelt wrapped about her and that hanging loose and low around her bosom. As she tossed a bucket of dirty water into the courtyard below, he was rewarded with a brief flash of creamy white and rosy-pink breasts, fully naked to his gaze.