Impostress (32 page)

Escorted by Rhynn and a burly guard and limping slightly, Joseph grinned as he saw her. "M'lady." He swiped his cap from his head.

"Joseph!" She ran to him, and despite the curious stares of the servants and Morwenna, she threw her arms around the stableboy, nearly sending them both sprawling. The hell with social stations. She didn't know until that moment how much she had missed Lawenydd and everyone within her father's keep. Her heart lurched and tears burned behind her eyelids as Joseph, stunned at her demonstration, awkwardly embraced her. "By the saints, it's good to see you," she said, her voice catching as she finally pushed off his shoulders to stare at him. "Please, come in, come in. Warm yourself. Rhynn!" She turned to the woman, who stood rag in hand, mouth agape at the lady's display. "Get food and wine for our guest." When the woman remained as if rooted to the floor, Kiera said more harshly, "Now."

"Oh, er, yes, m'lady."

Kiera motioned Joseph toward the fire when she finally noticed his expression. It was more than weariness that tugged at the corners of his mouth and eyes. His countenance was hard. Angry. His jaw worked as he tried and failed to repress emotions that burned through his soul.

Oh, God ... something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Her lungs constricted as horrid image after horrid image burned through her mind. "You must be tired and cold. Here, sit by the fire." Shepherding him toward the chair she'd just vacated, she motioned for one of the boys carrying firewood to add the logs to the flames. "Oh ... forgive me, this is my ... Kelan's sister, Morwenna."

"M'lady. A pleasure," Joseph said, but his expression remained grave and there was a flatness in his eyes that frightened her.

"Sit," she said, dropping into one chair by the fire and motioning him into another. "You have news? Something is wrong, I can tell."

Morwenna dallied.

"Aye." His throat worked and Kiera knew the darkest dread of all.

" 'Tis your sister, lady."

"My sister?" she repeated, and a roaring started in her ears.

"We think she's dead."

"Nay!" Kiera shot to her feet.
Elyn dead?
Nay, oh, nay! She felt the color wash from her skin. Her voice, when she spoke, was raw. "There must be some mistake." She wouldn't believe it. Much as she loved Kelan and wanted to stay as his wife, Kiera couldn't believe that Elyn was dead. Even though it was odd that she hadn't returned when she'd promised, Elyn had to be alive. She was young. Vibrant. Strong. "No, it cannot be."

But even as she uttered the words, a dozen questions rattled like bones through her mind.
Have you not wondered if she'd been harmed? Haven't you in your darkest hour suspected that she might have died ... and yet you kept your secret, remained here with Kelan in happy oblivion, denying your fears, living a lie, rather than finding a way to help Elyn.

"She was out riding, and disappeared," Joseph explained wearily.

"But surely she'll be found." Was that her voice? It sounded so weak. So far away, though she was certain the words had fallen from her own tongue.

"Nay, I think not." He rubbed his jaw and shook his head.

No, no, no!
Elyn was just hiding somewhere. Aye, that was it. She would be found. Alive. Mayhap she was injured, but not dead. Never dead. "This is a mistake, Joseph ... she's missing, I know, but ... you said 'We
think
she's dead.' So no one is certain. You have not seen her body."

Joseph stared at the fire. "She was to meet someone and he saw her horse later. Without her. She ..." He cleared his throat and looked down at the fists he'd clenched over his knees. "She fell into the river and was pulled under. Swept down. No trace of her found."

"No." Kiera was shaking from the inside out. Her hands were trembling, her legs threatening not to hold her. Despite the fire, she felt cold as death, shivering outwardly at the thought of Elyn drowning, being pulled under swift, winter waters, her lungs filling ... no, oh, no. Her bones seemed to crumble beneath her. She could barely stand as she thought of Elyn, panicked and flailing, battling a deadly current. "This is wrong. Who saw her?" she demanded.

"Sir Brock of Oak Crest."

Every muscle in her body became rigid. "That cur saw her drown and was unable to save her? No, I don't believe it. Nor do I believe him. He's a liar ... and a horse thief and a rogue."

"Why would he lie?" Morwenna asked, and Kiera tensed even more. So intent was she on Joseph's information, she'd forgotten that Kelan's sister was in the room, hearing the entire conversation, trying to piece it together. "You and I both know Sir Brock," Morwenna reminded her gently, though her eyes were suspicious as they trained on Kiera. Frantic, Kiera replayed her conversation with Joseph in her mind. Had she mentioned Elyn's name ... oh, what did it matter? Now Elyn might be dead.
Dead!
Tears filled her eyes as Morwenna said, "You ... you once fancied yourself in love with him, did you not?"

"Not I," Kiera said tightly.

Morwenna's cold expression charged her with the lie. "But why would your sister go to meet him? You are speaking of Kiera, is that not so?" she asked Joseph, whose guilty gaze concentrated on the crackling flames in the grate.

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to Kiera. "Aye, I am speaking of the lady's sister," he said.

Balancing a heavy tray, Rhynn bustled into the chamber—though not so much out of duty as to hear the gossip, Kiera thought angrily as Rhynn, with a smile for Joseph, laid the tray on a small table. There was a mazer of ale, a brick of cheese, and a bowl of eggs set near a trencher of wastel bread.

"Thank you," Kiera whispered to the serving maid, who lingered, casting a smile in the stableboy's direction. Kiera sighed as she battled tears. "I—I cannot believe this." Kiera's throat burned painfully and distant memories of her older sister and their childhood flashed through her mind. Elyn with her adventures, crossing a stream on exposed rocks in summer, riding bareback through the autumn leaves, hunting with their father or aiming her deadly arrow at Kiera's attacker, and, most recently, pressing Kiera into this insane plan and then abandoning her to Kelan ...
Dear God, please, please, bless her soul. Redeem her.
"How ... how is Father? Penelope?" she asked, then shook her head and buried her face in her hands. Tears of grief and remorse spilled from her eyes. "Oh, this is so wrong."

"I'm sorry," Morwenna said, and Kiera felt a gentle hand upon her shoulders. Through a sheen of tears, Kiera looked up at Kelan's sister. Morwenna's face, so often suspicious, had softened with concern. "If there's anything I can do ..."

Kiera sniffed. "There is nothing," she said, anger, regret, and grief tearing at her soul. "Nothing anyone can do."

Breathless, her body aching from the punishing ride, Wynnifrydd saw the castle looming in the moonlight.

Penbrooke.

Home of Baron Kelan and ... no doubt, Elyn of Lawenydd.

The bane of Wynnifrydd's existence.

Surely Brock was within the tall stone battlements, even now searching for his beloved. Wynnifrydd's betrayed heart twisted so hard she shook. Brock wouldn't have rested thinking that Elyn might have survived, that his eyes had played tricks upon him the night on the bridge, that she may have returned to her rightful place, that she might even now be married to the baron.

Lying, miserable bastard.

Digging her heels into the mare's sides, Wynnifrydd urged her horse along the rutted dark road leading to Penbrooke. The moon and stars offered small illumination and the night air was raw and chill. Wynnifrydd hardly noticed. Though she was tired, she felt a Stygian tingle of anticipation.

Tonight belonged to her. Wynnifrydd would extract her revenge from Brock and Elyn and anyone else who had been a part of the mortification she'd suffered when her groom had left her standing alone at the altar. Even now, she felt the humiliation of it all, the ghastly embarrassment to her, her father, and all of Fenn. She set her jaw and lowered her head, riding even faster, feeling the wind rush by, whispering in her ears, telling her that finally she would be able to even the score and exact her revenge.

Soon Brock and Elyn and whoever else had been a part of the scheme to demean her would pay. No matter what it cost.

* * * * *

Kiera pushed open the door of the chamber and stepped inside. Another day was drawing to an end, and Kelan had yet to return.

In the bed, Joseph opened an eye and struggled to a sitting position.

"Nay, don't," she said, walking into the darkened room. "I was just checking to see if you're being cared for."

One side of his mouth lifted, though there was no spark in his eyes. "Bothered more like. Nell, she's brought me mead and food," he said, motioning to a table bearing a jug and empty trencher. "Some other girl carried up hot, wet rags for me to clean myself, the priest was here wanting to pray with me, and the physician cleaned and bound my leg."

Kiera smiled. "Welcome to Penbrooke."

He managed a humorless laugh.

"Rest now. I won't bother you."

"You don't, m'lady," he said, and sighed. "I think I've had enough sleep. 'Tis all I've done since I arrived."

"You need it."

Joseph didn't seem convinced and glanced at his clothes, still tattered but clean as they warmed atop a stool by the fire. Near his boots were his knives, the larger one that he'd had strapped to his waist, a smaller one that had lain hidden in the scruffy boots that now rested on the hearth. "I only wish that I could have saved the lady," he said, his voice husky.

"As do I," Kiera said. Her heart felt as if it were made of stone. Her eyes burned from the tears that she'd shed, and her head pounded with guilt. 'Twas time to bare her soul again and make Kelan believe the truth this time, even if it meant losing him. She'd waited all day for Kelan, but he hadn't returned.

Darkness had fallen hours before and she'd spent the evening in anxious anticipation with her ears straining as she hoped to hear his voice rising up from the lower floors or the sound of his boots on the stairs. She'd been disappointed and she understood forlornly how much she'd come to love him. Her heartbeat always kicked up a bit at the sight of him, her pulse leaped when he looked at her, and she grew warm inside at his touch. She looked forward to spending days with him, learning the routine of the castle, and she anticipated each night of making love.

Foolish, foolish woman.

And now you must unburden your heart and confide in him. For there may be a child. You are already a day late; your ever regular cycle has been disturbed.
The thought that she could very well be with child was comforting but only a little. Until she told Kelan the truth, she could find no solace.

"Lord Brock is to blame," Joseph muttered.

" 'Twas Elyn's choice to meet him."

"But he should have saved her." Joseph's lip curled in disgust. "I'll cut out his black heart," he vowed, then closed his eyes and sighed. "I should have stopped her; I should never have let her take the horse."

"You couldn't." Kiera placed a hand upon the stableboy's shoulder. "No one could talk her out of meeting Brock, nor could you have denied her requests."

"Because she is a lady and I am a servant," he sneered, and for the first time Kiera witnessed Joseph's loathing of his position in life. His eyes held hers and she noticed the flare of defiance in their depths, recognized the rebellious thrust of his jaw. "And so she is dead."

"You must not blame yourself."

"Nor should you, m'lady. But Sir Brock, he is guilty as Satan himself, and he'll pay."

"Shh. We'll talk of this another day; now you must rest," she said. She saw him glance to his clothes as if he intended to get out of bed the instant she left the room. Not that she blamed him. Wasn't she, too, restless, in need of distraction?

With thoughts of her sister and Kelan heavy on her mind, Kiera hurried to her room and gazed out the window. The moon rose high over the battlements of Penbrooke, silvering the ground and stone walls of the keep. Sadly she accepted the fact that Kelan wouldn't return until the morning. Or later. She would have to live her lie through one more night. Yes, she had told Kelan the truth, but she hadn't fought hard enough to make him believe her words, that she was Kiera, not Elyn. Tomorrow, she swore to herself, she would be forceful, making Kelan believe that his true wife had died, that she, the impostress, had lied over and over to him. Then she would suffer the consequences.

Her punishment when Kelan accepted the truth would be severe, she knew, but whatever penalty Kelan meted out, it would be less painful than seeing the hatred and loathing that were certain to be evident in his gaze. No sentence could be worse than having him detest the sight of her.

"God help me," she whispered, making the sign of the cross over her bosom. "Help us all."

She could stand the waiting in this room no longer. Slipping her mantle over her head, she hurried downstairs to the great hall, where only a few servants moved through the darkened corridors. The dogs slept near the dying fire. The lazy hounds raised their heads as she passed to the main door, where a guard was posted, but seeing nothing seriously amiss, they let out soft grunts, yawned, and settled back to sleep. "Are you going out, m'lady?" the guard inquired.

"Aye, Jeffrey, for a while."

"But 'tis dark."

"I know. I won't be long." She pushed past the guard and threw him a quick smile.

Outside, the night was cold and crisp, a bit of a breeze tossing dry leaves along the path. Through the slatted windows of some of the huts, a few strips of firelight seeped into the night and she heard whispers of hushed conversation and the cackle of muted laughter. Overhead the sails of the windmill creaked in the brittle night, and in the distance she heard the lonely cry of a wolf.

She didn't know where she was going just that she needed to walk, to think, to grieve for her sister, and to plan what she would say to the man who still thought she was his wife. Her boots crunched on the frozen ground, and her breath fogged in the night air. Her cheeks were chilled and she thought of Elyn, fun-loving daring Elyn, being dragged beneath the surface of the icy river. "God be with you, sister," she whispered as she made her way to the eel pond, where moonlight rippled across the water. She wondered if when Kelan arrived home she should re-emphasize the truth as soon as he returned, or delay and spend a few more moments in sexual surrender, making love to him.