Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] (14 page)

“A good lesson, my lord,” Roger said.

“One I learned early in life, Roger,” Geoffrey admitted. “Come,” he suddenly said, “there is much to do today. Set up the table outside and I will see to the disputes among the freemen and pay them for their work.”

“I will see to it,” Roger said, hurrying to stand. He knocked over the bench in his haste but didn’t bother to right it. His lord was already at the doorway, waiting. “Roger, I again place the boy Thomas in your care. I will go up and talk with my wife and send the lad to you. Wait here.”

Roger nodded his ascent, silently wondering what his lord would say to his wife. He knew that Lady Elizabeth expected immediate death for her uncle. How would she react to her husband’s decision to wait for justice? The Hawk was about to ask a great deal from a mere woman, Roger thought. But then, from his contact with the Baroness, she was far more than a mere woman.

“My lord?” Roger suddenly asked.

Geoffrey turned from the stairway, one raised eye-brow his question.

“What of Lady Elizabeth? Would you wish me to look after her today?”

“No, that is my duty,” Geoffrey answered. “As unseemly as it is for a woman to stay at my side, it will be done today. I would know where she is every minute that Belwain and his men are about.”

“You would protect her from Belwain,” Roger said, nodding.

“And Belwain from her,” Geoffrey said, with a hint of a smile. “She would try to kill him, you know. And there is a thought in my mind that she just might be capable of the deed.”

Roger nodded again and tried not to smile.

It took Elizabeth some time to get control of herself. She alternated between grabbing the squirming little boy and holding him against her to trying to explain to him why she was in such a state.

Little Thomas remembered nothing. Not even how to play checkers, a game the two of them had played countless times in the past. It was just as well, Elizabeth decided, for her mind was too preoccupied for games.

When Geoffrey opened the door to their room, he found Elizabeth standing by the window, clutching her brother’s hand. The little boy looked bewildered.

“Go to Roger, lad. He waits for you at the foot of the steps.” Geoffrey’s order lightened the expression on Thomas’s face. He pulled free of Elizabeth’s hold and ran for the door. It was Geoffrey’s hand that stayed him. “Listen to me, Thomas. You do not leave Roger’s side. Do you understand me?” His voice was firm.

The boy felt the seriousness of the order. “I will not leave his side,” he said, frowning.

Geoffrey nodded and the boy hurried out the door. Slowly, while he gathered his thoughts and considered
how much to tell his wife, Geoffrey shut the door. He turned to deal with Elizabeth and was surprised to find her bare inches from him. Her face and posture appeared relaxed, but her eyes told the truth. There was torment etched there, torment and pain.

Unused to comforting, Geoffrey awkwardly placed his hands on her shoulders. In a soft voice, he said, “I will have your word, Elizabeth, that you will hear what I am going to say. Hear and abide by my decision.”

Elizabeth frowned. He was asking the impossible. “I cannot give you my word, my lord. I cannot! Do not ask this of me.” She tried to control the anguish in her voice but found it impossible.

“Will you listen to me, then?” Geoffrey asked.

“You have found Belwain innocent.” Geoffrey could feel Elizabeth’s shoulders sag beneath his hands.

“I have not said that,” Geoffrey answered.

“Then he is guilty in your eyes?”

“I have not said that either,” Geoffrey snapped, growing irritated.

“But—”

“Stop this! I have asked you to listen to me,” Geoffrey stated again. “And I do not want your interruptions until I am done. Will you give me that much, wife?”

Elizabeth could tell her husband was irritated with her and knew that he was finding it difficult to keep his patience. She was puzzled also by his manner. “I will not interrupt.” The promise was made, and she would keep it.

“To begin,” Geoffrey said, lightening his tone, “I do not have to tell you anything. You understand this?”

Elizabeth nodded, wishing him to go on. “You are my wife. I need tell you nothing. In future I most likely will not. It is not your place to know what I am thinking, what I am doing. Do you also understand this?”

In truth, Elizabeth did not. Her father had shared all his joys and worries with her mother. And that was as it should be. Why didn’t her husband understand this? Were his parents so very different from her own? she wondered. She made a mental note to question him on this later. For now, she would agree. She nodded again and folded her hands.

Geoffrey let go of her shoulders and turned from her. He walked over to the two chairs, adjusted his sword, and sat. Propping his feet up on the edge of the bed, he looked over at his wife.

“Your uncle is nothing like your father,” he began. “I find it hard to believe that they are indeed brothers.” He stopped then, looking past Elizabeth.

“It is too simple, this solution,” he said, more to himself than his puzzled wife. Elizabeth longed to interrupt, to ask him what he meant, but she kept her silence.

“I do not think Belwain is the one behind the massacre.” There it was said. Geoffrey watched his wife react.

Elizabeth met his stare and waited. She sensed he was testing her somehow, but didn’t understand his reasons. Didn’t he know the agony she was going through?

Her composure pleased the warrior. “Answer me this, Elizabeth. Do you consider your uncle to be intelligent? Tell me what you know of his character.”

Elizabeth sensed her answer would be important to her husband, though she did not know why. “I believe him to be self-centered and interested only in his pleasures.”

“Your reasons?” Geoffrey asked.

“Whenever he came to visit, he never took time with my sisters or my brother, or me for that matter. The family didn’t interest him. And as soon as my father came home, Belwain would begin with his wants, his
needs. He was always asking for more, but never giving.” Elizabeth walked over to the bed and sat down before she continued. “There was no love inside of Belwain, that is why I think him more than capable of doing the killings. He was totally lacking in loyalty too. I cannot give you an example of this but I know it in my heart. And to me, there is nothing more unholy than lack of loyalty. As to intelligence, no, I do not think Belwain uses his mind overly. Otherwise he would have learned long ago how to deal with my father. He would have used a different approach to get what he wanted.”

“He is weak. Don’t you agree?” Geoffrey asked.

“Yes, he is weak,” Elizabeth agreed. “But full of evil too.”

“I do not disagree or agree with you,” Geoffrey said. “His manners do not please me,” he admitted.

“My mother told my father that Belwain suffers from the king’s complaint,” she whispered. “I heard her.”

“The king’s complaint?” Geoffrey had never heard the expression.

Elizabeth’s cheeks colored but she answered her husband’s question. “To prefer men to women . . .”

Geoffrey acted like a bolt of lightning had been shot through his body. He came out of the chair in one giant bound. “William would cut out your tongue if he heard your blasphemy,” he bellowed.

“Then it is not true?” Elizabeth asked, outwardly oblivious to her husband’s anger.

“No, it is not true,” Geoffrey barked. “Never utter those words again, wife. It is paramount to treason.”

“Yes, husband,” Elizabeth agreed. “I am glad it is not true.”

“William is married,” Geoffrey snapped. “And it is not proper to discuss—”

“But you can be married, can you not, and still prefer the company of other men?”

“Stop this, I say!” God, but she was exasperating! To speak of such a subject as though she was discussing
family trivia both infuriated and amused him. She had much to learn.

“Yes, my lord.” Elizabeth’s voice sounded repentant, but Geoffrey wondered how sincere she really was. “I am sorry, husband. I have led you away from our topic.”

“Uhmmm,” Geoffrey grumbled deep in his throat. He sat back down and shook his head, in an action meant to clear his thoughts.

“I will tell you what I have thus far concluded, wife. Your uncle is a weak man. Weak and stupid.”

“May I question you, husband?” Elizabeth asked, her tone mild.

“You may,” Geoffrey stated.

“Will you kill him or must I?” Her softly spoken question jarred Geoffrey.

“For now, neither will. We have need for Belwain, Elizabeth. Now you will ask no more questions until I am done,” he hurried to add.

Elizabeth nodded, frowning.

“I do not think he is the one behind the plan, though I feel he somehow participated. He is a follower, and too stupid to plan such a feat.”

Elizabeth knew her husband spoke the truth. It was a difficult admission for her to make. Yet even from the beginning, while she concentrated all her hate on Belwain, there was a nagging uncertainty that he was not alone in the deed. Guilty, yes! But others involved? It was a possibility she had refused to consider until now.

“Belwain will be the bait, wife. I believe he will lead us to the one in hiding. I have a plan,” he added, “and you will give me your word that you will cooperate.”

“But who else stands to gain, husband?” Elizabeth asked, unable to keep her silence a moment longer.

“There is another,” Geoffrey said. “Though I will not speak his name to you yet. I could be wrong. You will have to trust me in this, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth didn’t respond but continued to look at her husband and wait.

“I now ask a most difficult thing from you,” he said. “It will require courage.”

“And what is that?” Elizabeth asked.

“You saw what happened, and you remember what those who didn’t wear masks looked like,” Geoffrey said. “Tonight the troops of Belwain will be allowed inside.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened but Geoffrey continued on. “Do not worry, we far outnumber his soldiers. There will be no danger. I will have you beside me at dinner, and you will have a chance to see if any of his men were part of the attack.”

“Belwain will sit with us?” Elizabeth asked.

“He will sit with us,” Geoffrey acknowledged. “I want him to think he is innocent in my eyes, Elizabeth. If he feels secure, he will slip.”

“You ask a great deal,” Elizabeth whispered. “I do not know if—”

“Can you be content with Belwain’s death and live with the thought that there is another just as guilty?” Geoffrey argued.

Elizabeth took a long time to answer. “No, I could not be content. I would know all of the truth.”

“Can you do what I ask?”

“Aye,” Elizabeth answered, wondering inside if she really could or not. She honestly didn’t know. “But could we not ride to their camp outside the walls instead of allowing them entrance?”

“No,” Geoffrey announced. “It is safer for you here.”

Elizabeth squared her shoulders and stood. “There is much to be done before tonight. I will instruct the cook,” she said. Her hands were trembling. There was so much to think over. Elizabeth felt overwhelmed with contusion.

“Come here, Elizabeth,” Geoffrey ordered, his tone gentle.

Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked over to stand at her husband’s side. Before she could so much as blink, Geoffrey pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly on the lips. His breath was warm and mint-tasting. Elizabeth began to respond when Geoffrey ended the kiss. “I did not hurt you last night?” he asked in a quiet voice, smiling at the becoming blush his question spurred.

“Not overly much,” Elizabeth answered, turning her gaze to his chin. She felt him chuckle and glanced back up to look into his eyes. There was tenderness there now. “I did not hurt you, my lord?” she asked innocently.

“Not overly,” Geoffrey answered when the surprise of her question receded. He found he liked it when she teased him, liked to see the hint of a sparkle come into her eyes. God, but if he could end her torment over her family’s deaths as soon as possible, he would. He wished to see only joy in her expression, hear her laughter.

He lifted her off his lap and stood up. “This is not the time for loving, wife. It is daylight,” he explained.

“We may only show affection during the night?” Elizabeth asked. She had meant her question as another jest, but her husband was vigorously nodding his head in agreement. “You are serious?” she asked, all but laughing.

“Of course I am serious! Do not mock me, Elizabeth,” Geoffrey said in a firm voice. “It is unseemly to show affection in front of my men. You would do well to learn that,” he admonished. “Know your place, woman!” His tone did not sound angry to Elizabeth but reminded her of an elder instructing a younger one in the ways of the court. She found herself furious over his attitude.

“And where is my place, husband?” Elizabeth let her anger show. She placed her hands on her hips while she waited for an answer.

Geoffrey walked to the door and opened it before turning back to his wife.

“I asked you, where is my place, husband? Where do I stand?”

Geoffrey found himself confused by the obvious anger in his wife’s voice. She acted much like his stallion when a burr was caught under his saddle.

“Where do you stand?” he repeated, frowning. “What is your meaning?”

“Aye, where do I stand?” Elizabeth all but shouted. “Do I stand beside you or behind you, husband? Answer me that.”

“Why, behind me, of course. It is the way of things.” From his wife’s expression, Geoffrey gauged his answer had not pleased her. He slammed the door before she could reply, shaking his head. Aye, she had much to learn, this new wife of his. Much indeed!

You are wrong, husband mine, Elizabeth thought as soon as the door slammed. I’ll not be hovering behind you, she vowed. Like my mother, I will stand beside you in this marriage. Oh, he had much to learn, this new husband of hers. Much indeed!

G
UYTON, THE BAILIFF IN CHARGE OF THE ENTIRE MANOR,
had been slain during the attack, as had Angus, the reeve, a first tenant in charge of cultivation of the lord’s land. And there were others missing, unaccounted for, Elizabeth knew. New appointments had to be made, and soon, for Elizabeth could all but feel the chaos and confusion in the atmosphere.