Once a Bride (27 page)

He well knew the way of the world. He had nothing of value to offer her father for her hand. He might be of good blood and he might have attained the rank of knight, but he stood to inherit only a small sum from his father—no land, no riches. While he might someday rise high enough to make an acceptable offer for a lady of Eloise’s station, that day loomed far into the future.

Even if Sir John’s trial went badly, if he were stripped of lands and wealth, Eloise wouldn’t be left destitute. Her brothers would care for her, see to her future. Geoffrey was certainly willing, Julius might be, too.

Useless conjecture—unless he tried to claim rights to her by revealing their one-night affair, and oh, wouldn’t Eloise just love him for that? She’d be horrified at the breech of trust, a trust she’d given him completely only a few nights before.

While he lay with Eloise, Timothy suffered a severe beating.

In one fateful night he managed to both ravage Eloise’s virginity and fail to protect his squire. He’d badly misjudged the danger in both instances, and now both people he loved might suffer permanent harm — Eloise to her reputation, Timothy from his injuries.

Guilt nagged at him from every corner. For leaving Lelleford for so much longer than he’d planned, and for not yet presenting himself to King Edward to explain why. For not being nearby when Timothy had needed him most.

For thoroughly losing himself in Eloise, the woman his brother had been enamored of at the time of his death. He could envision Hugh’s reaction to the liaison—appalled.

Perhaps it was best if Eloise went home with Geoffrey now, before he did something else outrageously stupid to harm her.

Then why had he opened his big mouth to convince Geoffrey to try one more confrontation with Sir John? There was only one answer—because ’twas what Eloise passionately wanted, what she felt was right.

He couldn’t deny her.

Fool.

True, Roland wanted a few answers from Sir John, too, but those answers could have waited until after Eloise was safely out of London. But no, he again guided her to the Tower of London, to Baliol’s Tower and her father’s chamber on the upper floor.

Eloise had shucked her cloak, now stood before her father with hands on hips—leaving Roland, Geoffrey, and Edgar to brace themselves as best they could.

“ ’Tis time to give over, Father. Geoffrey and I both know you have not told us the entire tale.”

“You accuse me of lying?”

“Never.”

Geoffrey stepped to Eloise’s side. “She accuses you of bending the truth to suit your purposes. You are very good at that, you know.”

“So are you.”

“I learned from the master.”

“As did I,” Eloise added. “Which is why we know evasion when we hear it. Father, we may be your children, but we are your
grown
children. We are both reasonably intelligent and sufficiently capable of dealing with whatever it is you strive to spare us.”

“So now I am being unreasonable.”

“Nay, just your usual stubborn self. Be warned, we can be stubborn, too. Neither Geoffrey nor I intend to leave London until we have the whole truth. If we have to share your imprisonment, hound you day and night, so be it.”

Roland remembered no such pact between the siblings, but since Geoffrey didn’t contradict her, he let it pass.

“Is it so wrong of me to want my children out of harm’s way?”

Geoffrey reached out, put a hand on John’s shoulder. “Not wrong, but in this case misguided. We cannot sit by and see you hang for a crime neither of us believe you committed. Am I right in that?”

“Aye.”

“Then Kenworth is either framing or blackmailing you. From what I gather, you are also not getting the support you would like from Lancaster. You need us, Father, if for no other reason than our support, for our belief in your innocence.”

John looked from Eloise to Geoffrey and back again. “Perhaps you give your support too lightly.”

Eloise tossed a dismissive hand in the air. “Rubbish. You may bend the truth, even hedge a law or two, but treason? You can swear on St. Peter’s bones that you have conspired with the Scots and I will not believe you.”

John huffed, and after a long, thoughtful pause, relented. “All right, then. I—”

Roland felt the sudden weight of John’s narrow-eyed stare, could almost taste the mistrust.

“You should not worry overmuch about Sir Roland,” Geoffrey said. “His loyalty is to Eloise, which means he will do or say nothing to bring her harm. ’Struth, anyone who dares lay a finger on her will find himself skewered on the tip of a double-edged sword.”

Eloise blushed slightly. Silence reigned while Roland inwardly admitted Geoffrey’s assertion.

There had been a moment, back in the room, when he thought Geoffrey might protest his insistence on escorting Eloise. They didn’t know each other, and Roland was well aware he was too deeply involved in what should be a family affair. Geoffrey not only relented but now gave his support, and while Roland wasn’t sure why, he also wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

“My thanks, Sir Geoffrey. In your father’s position I might be distrustful of outsiders, too. If I may put your mind at rest, Sir John, I wish you to know I have a stake in this affair as well. If Kenworth, indeed, was behind the attack on Timothy, I want a piece of the man.”

“Revenge for your squire?”

Revenge for the beating, revenge for scaring Eloise witless.

Absolution for allowing both.

But there was more. Despite attempts to stay clear of Sir John’s problems, he believed the man innocent. Perhaps Simon and Marcus’s adamant support of their lord first swayed him, but Eloise’s defense of her father, so staunch and resolute, had caused him to pay further heed.

Sir John might be no saint, but no devil either. If innocent, he deserved justice.

“Aye, I want revenge for Timothy. The lad did not deserve his bruises. The beating and the attempt to kidnap Eloise convinced me you have a powerful enemy who is not above abusing innocents. Whether or not you are guilty, I find Kenworth’s methods abhorrent. The man deserves comeuppance.”

John tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “All in the name of chivalry, then?”

“I am no model of knighthood. I have faults aplenty. Perhaps I simply have an aversion to tyrants.”

Geoffrey rubbed his hands together. “We have much to do in little time. Talk, Father. Ramble. I want every detail. One never knows what small piece of information may hold significance when put together with others.”

And so they began, the father and his children, to put the puzzle together. John told Geoffrey of his insults to Kenworth and the results. Then of taking Brother Walter into his service, not realizing the cleric a spy for Kenworth. Of fleeing the keep for the woodland, keeping one step ahead of the patrols.

Eloise held up a staying hand. “Father, I have wondered how you managed to sneak your message to me into my bedchamber.”

“With our men-at-arms who brought my falcon back. When they found us at the mill, I gave one man the falcon and another the message.” His eyes narrowed. “He was not discovered with it, was he? I told him to have a care.”

Eloise bit her bottom lip, and Roland guessed she felt as foolish as he did, remembering the hours they’d spent looking for a secret passageway.

“Nay, he snuck it up into my bedchamber where I found it on my bed, nor did any of the men of the patrol ever admit they saw you. I merely wondered how it got there. Proceed with your tale.”

“But first, go back to Brother Walter,” Geoffrey requested. “What made you realize he was a spy?”

“I found several scrolls in my accounting room, all of them written in the same hand. No names are mentioned, but they were obviously written by a Highlander to a sympathizer in England. I questioned Brother Walter about how they came to be among my papers. At first he denied any knowledge of them, then had a change of heart. He confessed to putting them there.”

“Then those documents are fake, placed in your possession to frame you.”

“Oh, no, Geoffrey. I believe those missives are quite genuine communications between a Scotsman and Englishman.”

Geoffrey softly asked, “Who?”

John firmly answered, “The Scot? I know not. The Englishman? Kenworth.”

Roland could hardly believe what he heard. “Kenworth used missives sent to him to frame you?”

John nodded. “As I said, there are no names mentioned, a precaution to protect both parties, I assume. I have no notion of who the Scot is, but I do know they were sent to Kenworth.”

“How?”

“Brother Walter. When he confessed and warned me of Kenworth’s plan to arrest me in my own home, he did a thorough job of that, too.”

Eloise put her face in her hands. “I had the monk right there. All I had to do was hide him away until … ”

“Nay, Eloise, ’twas best you did not,” John said. “If the monk were not available to greet Kenworth, he would have known immediately that more was amiss than my absence.”

“Well, he was not there to greet the earl. The monk took himself off to hide for two days. Roland finally found him and turned him over to Kenworth.”

“How did he explain himself?”

“Whatever he said, he said to Kenworth alone. Brother Walter refused to talk to me, vowing he would say nothing of the whole affair without your permission. Drove me witless.”

John smiled at that. “I imagine it did. Roland, did he speak to you at all?”

“Nay, not a word. Nor did Kenworth comment on it.” Roland couldn’t withhold a chuckle. “It just occurred to me. On the way to Lelleford, Kenworth was so sure he could simply ride through the gate and apprehend you. Now I know why. He knew you to be at home because the monk likely confirmed your schedule. No wonder Kenworth went into a fury when you weren’t there. By all that is holy, I should like to have heard what went through his mind when he could not find the scrolls either.”

John smiled. “The vision of that moment has crossed my mind many times. It still amuses me.”

“Father, this is no time for amusement.”

“Nay, Daughter, probably not. But I am still amused, and I will not be denied what little joy I can find in this mess.”

She sighed. “I beg pardon. What I should like to know is why you went to Lancaster. Roland once said he thought you should have gone to the king.”

“I almost did, but perhaps ’tis a good thing I did not. Edward may have hung me on the spot when I showed up with those scrolls. Lancaster gave me sanctuary”—he glanced about the comfortable chamber with the locked door—“such as it is. And for that he earned Edward’s ire. Lancaster has tried to obtain an audience with Edward, but the king refuses to see him. So Lancaster advises patience, until either Edward lets go his pique, or Kenworth makes a bold move.”

Eloise huffed. “ ’Tis easy for an earl to advise patience.
He
is not sitting in Baliol’s Tower.”

Geoffrey leaned back in his chair. “Lancaster will try to convince the king of Kenworth’s involvement?”

John shook his head. “Not immediately. First he wants to see what is contained in the missive in Edward’s possession.”

Roland tried to ignore the itch at the back of his neck, but it refused to go away even when he rubbed at it.

“What disturbs you, Roland?” Geoffrey asked.

Perceptive man, which likely made him a good lawyer.

“Edward told me of that missive, but not what it contained, only that on the strength of it he was sending Kenworth to capture John, and me to oversee your holdings. I fear that missive may be more damaging than those you have seen, Sir John.”

“That is what Lancaster wants to know before we take further steps.”

He should keep his mouth shut. He shouldn’t make any offer that might land him in more trouble than he might already be with King Edward over abandoning his duty at Lelleford to chase after Eloise. What he’d originally planned as no more than an overnight absence had stretched out for several days. That he left with good intentions, leaving the holding under Simon and Marcus’s capable supervision, or that he’d delayed returning to give his squire more time to heal from his beating, might not appease royal ire.

Except Eloise looked so forlorn he could barely stand to look at her without wanting to wrap her in his arms and soothe the worry away. If he didn’t help give her father back to her, he’d never be able to live with himself.

Perhaps, when she someday looked back at this horrible time in her life, she would remember him fondly for this one deed alone.

“King Edward will see me.”

Four pairs of eyes stared at him. Edgar excited, Geoffrey and John wary, Eloise … worshipful. As if he’d just handed her a dream come true. Roland hoped he could deliver what she hoped for—her father’s freedom. The best he could do was let John and Geoffrey know what they faced—if Edward allowed him to see the missive.

“I truly should have gone to see the king when I first arrived in London, let him know the circumstances under which I left Lelleford. Then we suffered the attack, and I could not leave Eloise alone, nor did I dare take her with me into the king’s presence.”

“Why ever not?” Eloise asked, all innocence.

“Because if you think an earl can be a danger, you do not wish to know what a king is capable of when crossed.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at her hands in her lap, then peered up at him through her long lashes. “You propose to place yourself in a precarious position. If Edward takes exception to your meddling, you jeopardize your future in royal service.”

“I did that several days ago when I left Lelleford. Whether or not Edward allows me to see the missive, I should still go and explain myself to him.”

John rose from his chair, stood before him. “My children are convinced I should trust you, and so I shall. If you truly mean to do this, be very careful, Roland. A king’s wrath can be heinous.”

“I am well aware of that, Sir John.”

“Then Godspeed, lad.”

Geoffrey rose. “Then there is no more we can do until after Roland talks to the king. I do not know about the rest of you, but I have missed several meals in the past few days and am
starving
. Eloise, Roland, might I treat you to a bite to eat?”