Grasso, Patricia (45 page)

Keely submerged her hand in the water. Its coolness soothed the throbbing sting, and from beneath the fringe of sooty lashes, she peeked at her captor.

Willis slabbed a thick piece of cheese onto a slice of bread and held it out, ordering, "Eat this, or I'll force it down your throat."

Keely did as she was told.

The baron lifted her hand and examined her fingers. "Keep your hand up," he ordered, then lifted the strips of linen draped across his forearm and began dressing her burns.

"Why are you doing this?" Keely asked, hoping the baron's redemption was still salvageable. After all, the man stood poised on death's threshold, and if unrepentant, he would be severely punished for his misdeeds.

"You're worth nothing if you sicken and die," Willis said baldly. He quit the chamber then and locked the door behind.

Keely sat statue-still as she listened to the baron's footsteps receding down the corridor. Deeming it safe to move, she leaped out of her chair and hurried across the chamber to the window.

Henry crawled from beneath the bed. "What's wrong with your hand?" he asked, his gaze on the bandages.

"I burned my fingers."

"How did you do that?"

"I stuck them into the fire."

"But why?" Henry asked, staring at her in horrified surprise.

Keely vowed to hide the truth from her gallant young brother forever. Since she couldn't think of a plausible reason to put her hand in a fire, Keely took the only path left open to her—an irritated offense.

"Is this a social call?" she shot back. "Or had you considered rescuing me? If so, we had better hurry because the baron could return at any moment."

Henry cast her a measuring look and then opened the shutters. "Give me the satchel," he said. "I'll carry it."

Keely passed him her bag, then hesitated. She looked at him through eyes filled with obvious fright.

" 'Tis the same as leaping from the earl's yew tree," Henry assured her, putting the rope into her hands. "Hold this tight, and keep your feet against the wall for balance. Don't scream if you slip; Odo and Hew will catch you."

" 'Tis easier said than done," Keely replied.

Henry helped her onto the ledge and held her waist until she moved into position. He nearly laughed out loud at her expression of fright as she slowly lowered herself to the waiting arms of her cousins. Then he went out the window too.

"Are you well, little girl?" Odo whispered, gathering her into his arms.

Keely nodded, then turned to hug Hew and Henry.

In silence, the four of them hurried toward the safety of the surrounding woodland. Tethered to the trees, three horses stood ready to ride.

"Keely can ride with me," Hew said.

"No, I'm taking the girl up with me," Odo informed his brother.

"Keely is
my
sister," Henry reminded them.

"She's only your
half-
sister," Hew argued, "but our
full-blooded
cousin."

Henry gaped at the giant's incredible stupidity. Odo reached out and cuffed the side of his brother's head.

At that moment, Keely was incapable of riding anywhere. Her five-month pregnancy and her throbbing fingers conspired to hinder her quick escape. Her head spun dizzily. She dropped to her knees and gagged dryly while her rescuers crouched down to steady her and to whisper words of comfort.

"The ride to London will kill my babe," Keely said, her eyes swimming with tears. "Find a place to hide me while you return to clear my husband's name."

"We're bringing you home to Rhys," Odo announced.

"My husband—"

"—will blame us if anything happens to you," Hew interrupted.

"The idiot and I will ride to London as soon as you're safe in Wales," Odo promised.

"I'll remain with you in Wales," Henry offered. "Your brother can hold me hostage until Elizabeth releases' Richard." This had been the best adventure in his young life; returning to his boring tutors at Ludlow Castle frightened him more than Willis Smythe.

Keely nodded and tried to rise, but her knees buckled. With a soft cry she fell in a dead faint.

Odo caught Keely before she hit the ground and cradled her in his arms like a baby. "She's riding with me," he said.

"Will she and the babe survive the trip?" Henry asked. Odo nodded, saying, "She'll be well-padded on my lap."

"Too much excitement weakened her," Hew said. "She'll regain her strength with a bit of rest."

The three of them mounted and turned their horses west in the direction of the Welsh border. Hew and Henry rode on either side of Odo. In case of a surprise attack the brigands would need to go through them to get to Keely.

"After we've seen to the girl's safety, we'll stop here on our way to London and kill the baron for daring to touch her," Odo told his brother.

"Sounds reasonable to me," Hew replied.

"Brother, you wouldn't recognize reason if it jumped up and bit your rear end."

" 'Course not," Hew shot back. "Do I have eyes in the back of my head to watch the crease in my arse?"

Henry bit his lip to keep from laughing, then remarked, "I never crossed the border into Wales."

" 'Tis like stepping through the gates into heaven," Hew told him.

Odo cast the unimpressed marquess a sidelong glance. "The prettiest women this side of paradise live in Wales," he added.

"Aye," Hew agreed, winking at his brother over the boy's head. "And there's nothing these ladies love more than a hero."

Henry mentally rubbed his hands together and shifted in his saddle. Anticipation was already hardening him.

"You'd better wipe your noble chin," Odo teased him.

"Aye, you're drooling," Hew added.

"From both ends," Henry admitted with a rueful grin.

The two Lloyd giants dissolved into deep rumbles of laughter.

"'Tis there." Richard halted Black Pepper and pointed at the two-story stone priory in the distance.

The earl, the duke, and the queen's page paused within the shelter of the woodland cover and gazed at Smythe Priory. The house appeared an idyllic picture of impoverished gentility, and the slanting rays of the afternoon sun fingered the priory's facade with light and shadow as if angels plucked the strings of a harp. The serenity of spring, the season of life's yearly renaissance, ranged beyond the horizon; yet the three on horseback sensed the invisible threat of death wafting through the air.

"How innocuous," Duke Robert remarked.

"Aye, no one would ever imagine the Devil himself lived inside," Roger added his own opinion.

Instead of charging toward the priory as every fiber of his being screamed at him to do, Richard moved Black

Pepper forward at a slow but steady pace. The Duke of Ludlow and the queen's page rode slightly behind him on either side. They halted their horses beside the priory's eastern border of hedgerow and dismounted.

Richard drew his rapier and led the way around the priory to the front. "Wait outside," he ordered the boy.

Roger opened his mouth to protest, but then clamped his lips together. The grim determination in the earl's expression discouraged argument.

"I'll shout if I need your assistance," Richard said, then added to soothe the boy's pride, "Draw your dagger, and be ready for a fight."

Roger nodded gravely and stood tall, the earl's confidence in him a balm to his boyish pride.

With rapier in hand, Richard stepped toward the door. He could have merely tried to open it first, but cognizant of the watching boy, he chose a more dramatic approach. He lifted his booted foot and kicked the door open.

"Who's there?" called a voice.

Richard, followed by Duke Robert, marched in the direction of the baron's voice. Both men paused inside the entrance to the priory's common room, a not-so-great hall.

Willis sat alone in a chair in front of the darkened hearth. He stood in surprise when they walked into the hall.

"Richard, is it really you?" Willis greeted them, pasting a smile onto his face. "How did you escape the Tower?"

With cold contempt etched across his features, Richard stared at him for a long moment and then shouted, "Keely!"

Silence was his answer.

"I'm alone here," Willis told him, an expression of bemused confusion appearing on his face.

"She could be locked away," Duke Robert said. "I'll check the bedchambers." At that, the duke raced up the stairs two at a time.

"What's this all about?" Willis asked, smiling as he advanced on the earl.

Richard lifted his rapier and pointed it at him, warning, "Stay where you are."

Willis lost his smile. He stopped short and held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

"She isn't here," Duke Robert called, returning downstairs.

Richard fixed his gaze on his former friend. Murderous rage, barely held in check, shone from his emerald eyes.

"Has your wife left you?" Willis asked, feigning innocent surprise. "You cannot possibly believe that she and—"

"The game is finished," Richard interrupted, his voice mirroring the violence surging through his blood.
"Roger!"

With his dagger drawn, the queen's page ran into the priory. The boy appeared ready to duel with the Devil.

"Recognize him?" Richard asked, his gaze never wavering from the baron's.

Willis stared coldly at Roger.

"You murdered Jane and dropped my dagger beside her body," Richard said.

"Then you tried to strangle Morgana," Duke Robert added.

"Both the lady and I still live," Roger informed the baron. " 'Tis time to pay the piper for your crimes."

If looks could kill, Roger would have dropped dead on the spot. "I should have taken that extra moment to silence you permanently," Willis sneered at him. "Meddling brat."

"Where is my wife?" Richard demanded.

"The damned
taffy
escaped," Willis answered, a bitter edge to his voice. "If I'm under arrest, give me five minutes to pack a bag."

Richard cocked a copper brow at him. "I haven't come to arrest you, Willis."

A
smile of surprise spread slowly across the baron's face.

"I intend to kill you," Richard told him.

Willis lost his smile.

Richard flicked a glance at the boy and ordered, "Roger, leave."

"And miss the most exciting part?"

"I said, get out!"

Reluctantly, Roger turned away and left the hall. Allowing the two combatants space to fight, Duke Robert backed away and waited in the hall's entrance.

"Why did you do it?" Richard asked.

"For money, of course."

"Sick greedy bastard."

" 'Tis an easy life for a man like you, who never lacked funds," Willis said in an accusing voice.

"You never lacked for anything either," Richard shot back. "And where's Ludlow's marriage certificate?"

"Destroyed."

"Liar."

"That sneaking witch you married stuck her own hand in the fire to be certain I couldn't salvage it," Willis told him.

"You actually expect me to believe my wife burned the proof of her own legitimacy?"

" 'Tis truth. With that paper destroyed, there's no need for either of us to get hurt."

"The minor matters of abduction and murder need settling," Richard replied. "Didn't I warn you never to look at my wife? Your final hour is here, baron. Better say your prayers."

"Would you slaughter an unarmed man?" Willis asked.

"Draw your sword, baron."

Willis inclined his head and reached for his sword, then advanced on him. The two friends began circling each other.

Willis made the first move. He leaped at Richard suddenly, and their swords kissed with a metallic clang.

Equally matched, Richard and Willis swung and parried with deadly expertise, and neither could gain the advantage. Though the baron was stronger and heavier, Richard possessed a predator's agility. Within minutes, the hall was a shambles of overturned table and chairs.

Unexpectedly, Willis tripped over a fallen stool, and his sword slipped from his hand. Richard thrust his blade forward. The baron rolled to the right, sprang to his feet, and drew his dagger.

Richard drew his own dagger and then tossed his rapier toward his father-in-law for safety's sake.

"Interesting piece," Willis remarked as they began circling each other again.

"Scottish dirk, a gift from my brother-in-law," Richard replied, smiling coldly.

"Death by dagger is so intimate," Willis said. "A fitting end between friends."

In a flash of movement Willis leaped closer and flicked the point of his blade across Richard's cheek, drawing first blood. Then he quickly danced out of the arc of the return swing.

Again and again, Richard and Willis clashed and separated. Only their occasional grunts and the whoosh of their blades broke the silence inside the hall.

Attempting to draw more blood, Willis jumped inside the arc of his friend's reach. Richard sliced at him but missed, and Willis hastily stepped back to safety.

Richard went after him. Willis anticipated such a movement. With one leg, he swiped Richard's legs out from under him.

Caught off balance, Richard went down, and the baron fell upon him in an instant. Gleaming death aimed for Richard's throat, but he grabbed the baron's wrist and strained with every ounce of strength he possessed to keep the dagger at bay.

Savagely, Richard fought back. He kneed the baron's groin and pushed upward.

Willis grunted and toppled backward. Glinting steel sliced the air as Richard drove his dagger into the baron's heart. In one swift motion Richard rolled to the left and sprang to his feet, ready to block any further attack.

Willis Smythe was beyond fighting back.

Richard dropped to his knees beside his fallen friend and gently closed his eyelids. "God rest your soul," he whispered as a sob of raw emotion escaped his throat.

A strong hand clasped his shoulder.

Richard gazed through tear-blurred eyes at his father-in-law and said, "I once loved him like a brother."

"A friend's betrayal is always heartbreaking," Duke Robert replied. "Only time will soothe the pain."