The Herald's Heart (19 page)

All sympathy fled. “You shouldn’t have tried to kiss me into submission.”

He groaned and rolled to his other side, away from her glare.

Since she could do naught for him, she left him for a moment to bundle her few belongings and pick up a pillow. When she returned, she saw his shoulders had relaxed. His head rested on the rushes, and his gasps had turned to pants, punctuated by an occasional whimper.

She set her bundle down, bent over him, and lifted his head.

He stared daggers at her from the corner of his eye.

She placed the pillow beneath his head. “I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I’m not sorry that I stopped you. Believe me, this is best.”

She grasped her bundle and stood, then went to the door. “I cannot remain here, so I will go to the abbey until I can decide a more permanent destination. I’ll send someone to aid you.”

“You’ll regret this,” he managed to grind out.

“I already regret more than you can imagine.” Tears clouded her vision, and she stumbled blindly down the stairs.

Talon cracked an eyelid and stared at the dew-speckled blades of grass a thumb’s length from his nose. The sun warmed his back, but his chest and legs felt chill with wet. A bird trilled nearby and set his head pounding. Where the hell am I, and why am I lying face down on the ground? The questions made his head pound harder. He closed his eyes and tried not to think at all.

A horse neighed in his ear and set his ears to ringing. Would his brain explode? He groaned and covered his splitting pate with his arms. His head spun so much that he couldn’t be certain, but the vibrations seemed to have stopped. Now if the earth would cease whirling as well, he might be able to ignore the buzzing at his back and return to sleep.

The cloth of his sleeves tickled his nose, so he let his arms go slack. The buzzing became a voice.

“I expected to find you at Hawksedge Keep, where King Edward said he’d sent you. Never did the idea cross my mind that I would find you stone drunk by the roadside.”

Talon groaned again and rolled over. He squinted up at the figure on horseback. Sunlight speared into his eyes, causing more pain and partial blindness. “Amis? What are you doing here?”

“Longshanks grows impatient and, hearing that the Earl of Hawksedge is missing, thought you could use my help.”

In the midst of trying to sit upright, Talon slumped back to the ground. “He’s dead.”

Amis sat beside Talon. “I beg your pardon, but the king is very much alive, at least he was when I left court four days past.”

“Not Edward. Hawksedge.”

“Excellent, then you won’t need my aid pulling your butt out of another fire or saving your life three times running. We’ll send word by messenger to Edward of the earl’s passing, and I can be on my way north to find an heiress who, rumor has it, might be willing to wed a poor second son.”

If the slightest movement did not cause his world to spin and his stomach to heave, Talon would have laughed. “I don’t need my life saved or any help pulling my butt from a fire. I can do that for myself. However, I could use your help discovering who murdered the earl in his private chapel.”

“I’m not certain I understand. I thought you awaited the earl’s return from somewhere. How is it that the earl was murdered in his own home?”

“The murderer was very clever. Whoever it was knew the earl locked himself in his private chapel to pray and managed to get candles into the chapel that gave out poisoned smoke. As near as I can make out, the earl died about a month before I arrived.” Talon remembered not to shake his head, and frowned up at the sky. His hopes of dealing with the earl and gaining a home had gone up in the smoke that had killed the man. Nor could he deliver the earl to Edward as ordered and pray the king would force the issue of inheritance out of gratitude for loyal service.

“Amazing. So you’ve a crime to resolve. You’ll feel better and more able to act if you sit up. Then you can tell me how you came to this sorry state.”

Talon lifted himself to a sitting position. The world spun, and his stomach turned. He braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. “Right now, I don’t recall how I got here, or why.”

’Twas a lie. He remembered all too well his painful parting with Larkin and the ale he’d called for. To drown his sorrows, he’d thought then. Drown good sense was more like. Still, the lie was convenient. He’d not have to explain Larkin to Amis.

“Were I to guess, I’d say ’twas a woman not murder that caused your present condition.”

Talon tilted his head and peered through his fingers at his friend. “How did you know?”

Amis dismounted. “Experience, my friend, experience.”

“Ah yes.” Talon resisted the urge to nod. The ground still heaved beneath him. “Last Michaelmas, the brunette.”

Amis’s mouth formed a thin line. “Right, the brunette.”

“If this is what you went through to rid yourself of her, I hope she was worth the trouble.”

“She was worth quite a bit of trouble, but drinking myself stupid did not rid me of her.”

Talon would have raised an eyebrow had the effort not caused him too much pain. “Then what did?”

“’Twas a small thing, really.”

“What, man?” Talon growled. “Tell me so I can do the same.”

“’Twas her husband and the two children I saw him with.”

“You gave her up because she had a husband and children?”

“Nay, because she had a husband and two children who looked nothing like him, or her.”

Talon let his head drop to his knees. “’Tis no good. My woman has no children.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“She will have none of me.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it, Amis. I’ve made a great mess of things.” Talon turned his head to his friend.

Brows raised, his friend studied him for a moment.

Talon mentally squirmed.

“Come,” Amis urged. “Let us get you home. You can tell me all about it while you put food in your belly.”

The mention of food was the final straw. Talon crawled to the nearest bush and emptied his stomach.

When he finished, Amis extended a flask so Talon could fill his mouth with water. He swirled the liquid around to wash away the sour taste of drunkenness, then spat and filled his mouth again. This time he swallowed.

“Feel better?”

“Some.”

“Let’s go, then. We’ve a murder to solve and a lady to pursue.”

The lady was the last thing Talon wanted to talk about. He looked around. “I seem to have lost my horse.”

“The keep isn’t far. We can walk. ’Twill be better for your stomach.”

“Aye. When we get there, we’ll have ale and break our fast.”

They set out in companionable silence.

“So what’s this woman’s name?”

“Larkin. Lady Larkin Rosham.”

“You jest.”

Talon shook his head.

“Lady Rosham, truly? But she is supposed to be dead.”

“Well she’s not, and if there’s any fire from which I must pull my butt, ’tis of her making.”

“Oh ho. This is a tale I must hear.”

• • •

“And that’s when she left me.” Talon sipped carefully at his tankard of ale. He’d tried to avoid mentioning his humiliation at Larkin’s hands but failed. Amis was as persistent in ferreting out the truth as any of Edward’s hounds. His friend accepted Talon’s explanation that she was an orphan and her identity was in question, though the local abbess who’d given Lady Larkin shelter believed her to be of noble birth.

Having shared his misery with his dearest friend, Talon felt hopeful that on some distant day, his heart might not hurt at the thought of Larkin. One look at Amis’s expression, and Talon cringed inwardly. He was a miserable host, wallowing in self-pity over a woman who should mean nothing to him.

“’Tis not so bad, Amis.” He clapped a hand on the other knight’s shoulder. “Already, you have made me feel that I could forget the troublesome wench.” He filled his mouth with ale before he could utter the denial that shouted in his mind.

“’Tis much worse than I imagined,” Amis said morosely into his flagon. “You’re in love, and with a woman who does not appear to return your affection.”

Ale spewed from Talon’s mouth. He jerked his head aside to avoid spraying his friend. “What?” He wiped his lips and chin on his sleeve. “Why would you make such a stupid remark?”

“Stupid? I don’t think so. A woman does not break a man’s balls out of affection. My remark may have stated the obvious, but I doubt anything I said was stupid.”

“Not that. I’m well aware she does not care for me. Your stupid comment was about me being in love.”

“Look me in the eye and deny it,” Amis challenged.

“Of course I deny it,” Fixing his gaze on his friend, Talon scoffed, but his glance faltered.

One corner of Amis’s mouth kicked up. “Why don’t I believe you?” He buried his nose in his tankard.

“I don’t know,” Talon muttered.

Amis lifted his head and smiled. “Perhaps, ’tis that, despite your excessive courtesy to women, you never became sottish over a female before or let your guard down so completely that any woman could fell you. I must meet this most unusual Larkin.”

The last time Talon had seen Amis, he was surrounded by females, charming each one with his looks and pretty manners. The Du Grace lands held an equally strong allure for women, so they clustered around Amis, angling for marriage until they discovered he was the second of three sons. The females who lingered stayed for the very good time he always showed his lady loves. Talon didn’t want his friend’s powerful attractive force directed at Larkin. She’d be unable to resist. Larkin was his, whether he loved her or not. “I’m afraid you don’t understand. The woman is claimed.”

Amis’s eyes widened, and he smiled. “I understand all too well, my friend. Fear not, I’ve no designs upon your Larkin. Still, I would like to meet her.”

“No doubt you’ll get your chance, but don’t expect me to make it easy.” Talon drained his ale and rose to leave. Despite Larkin’s disdain and the injury she’d done him, seeing her suddenly became imperative. But first he needed to enlist his friend’s help. Giving Amis a task would distract him from charming Larkin as well.

“Since you are come to help me, I need you to travel to Rosewood Castle and encourage Baron Le Hourde to present himself here in answer to my summons.”

“I can do that,” Amis said. “Did it occur to you that this baron may be avoiding your summons for a reason?”

“From the day I arrived here, I was suspicious of a man so reluctant to give his king’s herald an accounting of himself. The feeling has grown with the discovery of the earl’s body.”

“Then perhaps it would be useful if Baron Le Hourde thought me no friend to you. On the principle that the enemy of mine enemy is my friend, if I present myself as your rival in all things, he might be more inclined to share his reasons for failing to answer your summons.”

Would that work? Without knowing more of Le Hourde’s character, who could tell? “That is worth trying. I certainly have no better scheme in mind.”

“Then I shall head for Rosewood Castle. If I gain news or knowledge, I will carry it to you personally on the excuse that you insisted I report to you directly.”

Talon stared into his empty tankard. “Servants and others talk. You must keep up the appearance of being my rival even while you are here.” That meant Amis would pursue Larkin simply to cut out his supposed rival—if she could be persuaded to return to Hawksedge. Talon liked the idea no more than the first time it sprang to mind. But he would allow it in order to force Le Hourde’s hand and discover what he might know of the earl’s death.

He pushed his cup away and stood. “Come, Amis, I’ll ride to Rosewood with you, then go on to my own destination.”

“You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”

“She went to the local abbey. I shall bring her back where she belongs.” And bring himself some peace as well. Though how that was possible with all the trouble she caused him, he knew not. All he knew was he could not rest without her near to hand.

“I will pray for you.” Amis clapped Talon on the back.

God must have favored those prayers. Persuading Larkin to return to Hawksedge was easier than he imagined. All he’d had to do was give an abject apology and promise she could search the keep without restriction. But persuading her to share his bed was impossible. He brought her trinkets and flowers, played her songs when the evening meal was done, and generally made a fool of himself. She avoided any attempt on his part to touch or get close to her. She refused to even smile at him until he volunteered to help her find her marriage box. He made the offer just so he could keep her safe—they’d never identified her attacker—not because he thought to please her. And I am not the least happy I finally discovered something that prompts her smile.

• • •

She and Talon developed a routine of meeting to break their fasts in the morning, then setting immediately to work searching for the marriage box. He’d told her a rival herald, Sir Amis Du Grace, had arrived with news of King Edward’s impatience and how the knight had gone to Rosewood Castle to speak with Baron Le Hourde. Today, Talon had been called away to deal with some difficulty in the village, and Larkin worked alone until Cleve came into the room to announce that a Sir Amis had come in search of Sir Talon.

“Very well. Seat him before the fire in the great hall and ask Alice to provide refreshments. I will join him as soon as I remove the dust and dirt from my person.”

Cleve nodded and left.

Larkin sighed. She would get no more work done this day, and she had almost finished searching the keep’s uppermost level.

Making herself presentable took little time, and soon she entered the great hall. “Welcome, Sir Amis. Talon mentioned a friend was visiting nearby. I am sorry he is attending some matter in the village and is not here to greet you. I know he will regret missing your visit. How may I help you?”

She took a seat. More slightly built than Talon but still muscular, the man’s wheat-blond hair framed a chiseled face and striking green eyes. Had it not been for the laughter in his gaze, he might have passed for one of the angels. Gabriel perhaps, but more likely Raphael in his human form.