Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (28 page)

Ingilby wasn’t in any mood for
riddles. He ground his teeth with frustration. “Of course, I do,” he snapped.
“I wanted to have the boy so I can use him against St. Hèver and Coverdale the
next time I….”

His sentence abruptly halted and
his face suddenly lit up as if a great and overwhelming thought had just
occurred to him.  Looking to Alphonse, who also had an expression of joy on his
face, Ingilby’s rage suddenly turned to delight.

“The boy,” he breathed. “The boy…
if I have his boy, St. Hèver would do anything to regain him, would he not?”

Alphonse nodded confidently.
“Indeed, my lord.”

Ingilby was growing increasingly
thrilled. “Perhaps even exchange his new bride for the boy?”

“Any father would, my lord.”

Ingilby crowed.  He clapped his
hands and began trotting around the room, throwing his hands up in the air in a
thrilled gesture of joy. When the dogs didn’t move fast enough out of his path,
he kicked them happily and when the servants didn’t move fast enough, he kicked
them also. In the great smelly, smoky hall of Ripon Castle with its stale
rushes, stale people, and thread-worn banners hanging from the ill kept
gallery, John Ingilby displayed his joy.   As he skipped past he majordomo, he
suddenly came to a halt and grabbed the man by the neck.

“Send word to St. Hèver at
Aysgarth,” he said. “Tell the man that I have the son he has been looking for. 
He may have the boy in exchange for Chloë de Geld. Those are the terms.  If he
refuses, I will kill the boy and dump the body at the gates of Aysgarth.”

The majordomo fled.  Ingilby felt
hopeful, more hopeful than he had felt in a very long time.  He turned to
Alphonse.

“Where is the boy?” he asked.

“In the vault, my lord,” Alphonse
replied. “He seems to want to escape so I chained him up.”

Ingilby thought on that a moment.
“Bring him to me. I would see this child.”

Alphonse moved to carry out the
man’s order. He wasn’t concerned that Ingilby would discover that the boy in
the vault was not St. Hèver’s son for one obvious reason – Ingilby had never
seen St. Hèver’s son. The child would deny he was the knight’s offspring, but
that was to be expected.  Once the child was exchanged for the beautiful woman
that Ingilby called
the goddess
, Ingilby would marry Lady Chloë
immediately and there would be nothing St. Hèver could do about it when he
discovered he’d been tricked. In fact, Alphonse would ensure that the boy was
not turned over to the knight until Lady Chloë was Lady Ingilby and not a moment
sooner.

 Confident, somewhat relieved,
Alphonse descended to the vault of Ripon Castle in search of the little blond
boy with the big brown eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cassandra and Chloë had always
been close, but this went beyond that.  Cassandra hadn’t left Chloë alone for
even a moment since Keir departure the day before when Keir had asked her to
stay with her sister as much as possible to make sure the woman was well.  He
was very worried about her, as Cassandra was. Chloë simply didn’t look well,
the emotional and physical toll of the past few days’ events weighing heavily
on her.

Keir’s departure hadn’t been
particularly dramatic or wrought with great sobs, but as Keir and Chloë quietly
embraced one another, his forehead against hers as he whispered words of love
and comfort only Chloë could hear, the emotions radiating from the pair had
been palpable.  Kurtis and Cassandra had felt it with great sadness, as had
Coverdale and Michael.  Even Lady Blanche had seemed touched by it while Anton
tried not to watch, fearful that his guilt might get the better of him.  He
wasn’t oblivious to it, but he still believed he was doing what was best for
his daughter.  If St. Hèver perished, it would be easier to marry her off as an
unwed maiden.

When Keir had finally pulled away
with a gentle kiss to her lips, Chloë had held her anguish admirably. She had
even given him a smile and wave as he mounted is charger and moved to the head
of the army.  She had held the smile until he quit the gates, disappearing from
view, but the moment she knew he couldn’t see her anymore, the tears came. 

Kurtis and Cassandra quickly took
her away so the entire castle wouldn’t see her breakdown.  They had taken her
up to her third floor chamber where she collapsed on the bed in muffled sobs. 
She remained in bed all day and all night, and Cassandra remained with her. She
even slept with her sister even though she was a newlywed and her new husband
slept alone in the chair near the hearth.  At this moment, they were all
family, bonded together to tend Chloë during this dark time. It was what Keir
wanted.

As the day after Keir’s departure
dawned bright, the birds singing loudly, Cassandra tried to convince Chloë to
get out of bed, but Chloë wouldn’t budge.  She lay in the bed where she had
Keir had shared many wonderful hours, staring at the lancet window with the
bright blue sky beyond as if imagining some distant place and time where she
and Keir were always together, never apart.  Kurtis muttered to Cassandra that
at least Chloë wasn’t crying, but Cassandra found no comfort in that
statement.  At least crying was the release of emotion.  What Chloë was doing
went beyond expending emotion; she was staring off as if the world around her
did not exist.

Near the nooning meal, Blanche came
to Chloë’s room to see how her daughter was faring.  Chloë was still lying in
bed, staring out of the lancet window, and Blanche tried to speak with her
daughter in an attempt to elicit a response. But Chloë barely responded,
ignoring her mother for the most part, until Blanche finally gave up.  She had
a servant collect her sewing and she sat in the corner, working her needlework,
watching for any hint of life from her youngest daughter. Already she could see
that Chloë was withering away and she began to seriously question her husband’s
decision.

Chloë remained in a daze for
another three days. She barely moved, and only then it was to use the privy. 
Cassandra tried to force her to eat but Chloë would have none of it.  Blanche
tried to use tough motherly intervention to coerce her daughter into eating,
but it resulted in Chloë in tears so Blanche backed away. In spite of her
austere façade, Blanche wasn’t truly forceful or firm with her children. She
felt the girl’s pain but didn’t know what to do about it. Finally, on the dawn
of the third day, Kurtis intervened.  He had to.  He didn’t want to tell his
brother that he had watched the woman he loved waste away to nothing.  He
seriously feared for her life.

On the fourth day of Keir’s
departure, the day dawned bright and cool. Blanche hadn’t yet made her way up
to Chloë’s bower for the day and Cassandra had gone to the kitchens to see if
she could find something to tempt her sister.  Alone with Chloë in the early
morning hour, Kurtis summoned his courage and made his way over to the bed.

“Chloë?” he addressed her but she
didn’t look at him.  He tried again. “Chloë, I want you to look at me. Look at
me and listen to what I have to say.”

Chloë continued to stare at the
open window but, after several long seconds, she turned in his direction. The
brown eyes were distant and vacant but she was at least looking at him.  Kurtis
sighed faintly, his jaw ticking much as Keir’s did when there was much on his
mind.

“Three years ago, I received word
at Alnwick Castle that Pendragon had been breached and my brother’s family
killed,” he told her. “I rode day and night until I reached Pendragon only to
find a brother who was in much the same state as you are now.  He had just come
upon the burned body of his wife and daughter, and Pembury and de Velt had
chained him to the walls of the vault at Pendragon so he would not kill himself
in his grief. Are you listening to me?”

The dazed look in Chloë’s eyes
faded and, as Kurtis watched, she seemed to become somewhat lucid. It was like
watching the sun come out from the clouds, or a candle suddenly lit.  He could
see the light in her eyes.  Her delicate brow furrowed and a pained expression
crossed her fine features.

“I am listening,” she murmured.
“He did not tell me that he tried to kill himself.”

Kurtis shook his head as he sat
on the foot of the bed. “He did not in the literal sense,” he clarified. “He
threatened to and, taking him as a man of his word, Pembury did the only thing
he could do. He did not trust that Keir would not hold true on his threat.  In
any case, he summoned me and I found a man I did not recognize chained in the
bowels of the vault.  When Madeleine and Frances died, something in Keir died
also. It remained dead until last week when I saw my brother for the first time
in months and he spoke of you.  Whatever magic you have over him, Chloë,
restored the part of his soul that died that day.  I could see it in his eyes
when he looked at you and hear it in his voice when he spoke your name.”

By now, Chloë was gazing at him
with a mixture of joy and tears. “I did nothing but love him,” she whispered.

“I know,” Kurtis replied,
reaching out to take her cold, pale hand. “Chloë, please understand that it
would kill Keir to see you like this right now. I know you are afraid and I
know it pains your heart to be separated from him, but you must have faith that
he will return to you. I know my brother better than anyone and I know he will
do everything in his power to return safely from Wales.  But if he were to see
how you are right now… it would shatter him.  You do not want to do that to
him, do you?”

She shook her head, the tears
falling down her pallid cheeks. “Of course not.”

“Then you must get hold of
yourself and carry on in a manner that would honor Keir,” he told her,
squeezing her hand. “What you are doing now… wasting away like a weakling… does
not honor him at all. You are made of better things than this.  Show us all why
Keir loves you so much. Show us a strong woman.”

Chloë wiped at the tears on her
cheeks, thinking on his words.  After a moment, she nodded. “I… I did not think
on it that way,” she said softly. “I was only thinking of my own pain. But you
are correct, Kurtis. You are absolutely correct and I beg your forgiveness for
being so foolish.”

He smiled at her and lifted her
hand, kissing her fingers. “There is nothing to forgive,” he told her. “But I
would like to see you up and dressed. I know Cassandra would also.”

She sniffled away the last of her
tears, composing herself, the twinkle returning to her eyes. “You are a wise
man, Kurtis St. Hèver,” she smiled faintly at him. “I am glad my sister married
you.”

He returned her grin. “So am I,”
he said, feeling greatly relieved that he was able to talk some sense into her.
In truth, he was surprised she had listened to him. “Perhaps it will give you
comfort to understand that Keir will not see any action for at least three
weeks. Right now, he has already arrived in Chester and I have little doubt
that he is missing you as much as you are missing him.  But he is safe, healthy
and whole, so keep that in mind. Right now, Keir is just miserable that he is
away from you.  Do you want me to tell you a secret?”

Her eyes glimmered. “Aye.”

Kurtis stroked his chin and
looked around as if afraid his brother might pop from the walls and suddenly
over hear him.

“He took one of your shifts with
him,” he confessed. “I saw him pack it – it was very fine, white, and looked as
if it had been ripped up. I could see the tattered edges.  When I asked him
what it was, he said it was your shift.”

She looked somewhat surprised.
“Why would he take it?”

Kurtis smiled faintly. “Because
it is yours,” he said simply. “It smells of you and has touched your skin. He
will smell it, sleep with it, and keep you close to his heart. It is something
of you.”

Chloë’s smile grew as she thought
on the remnant that Keir had taken. She suspected it was the shift that he had
torn from her body the first time they had made love, something she had shoved
far back into the wardrobe until she could either repair it or dispose of it,
but he had apparently gone hunting for a memento of hers to take with him and
found it.  It made her blush to think of it but in the same breath, it was the
sweetest thing she had ever heard.

“I tried to cut some of my hair
for him to take, but he would not allow it,” she said, trying to veer the
subject away from the lustfully destroyed shift.  “Have you ever been to
Chester, Kurtis?”

He stood up from the bed as she
peeled the linens back and swung her legs over the side. “Twice,” he told her.
“An abominable border town. Full of Welsh.”

She giggled softly. “You do not
like the Welsh?”

He gave her a pursed-lip
expression, one of distaste, looking much like his brother as he did so. “They
eat seaweed,” he grumbled. “They mix it with leeks and oil and fry it. They
believe it makes them strong and live long. What idiots.”

Chloë continued to giggle as he
moved for the door, realizing the young lady needed to dress and he most
certainly did not need to be here.  He reached the panel, opening it, casting
her a glance before he quit the chamber entirely.