Sharon Lanergan (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

“We’ll find her, Brian. I know we will.”

Brian heard Lucien’s words but they were hollow comfort. Constance was gone, abducted no doubt by Loutrant, and he had only himself to blame.

“Brian?”

He looked at his brother, struggling to keep the sorrow he felt down to his soul from showing on his face. Aye, they would find her. But he feared they would find her dead.

The two brothers stood in the castle courtyard discussing their next move. Around them Fitzroy warriors prepared as though for battle, but Brian barely noticed them.

“I know, Luc.” His voice came out like mist, cold and light, barely carrying. He could not manage much more.

“Constance is strong. She escaped from him once, remember?” Lucien reminded him.

Of course, Brian remembered. But he also knew Loutrant. The man would be on his guard against such a possibility a second time.

“We do not even know where to look.” Brian shook his head. “The little girl from the village was hardly any help at all.”

“At least we know it was likely Loutrant who took her. The girl was able to describe the man.”

Brian looked out over the courtyard and Fitzroy lands from the doors of the castle. He shook his head wearily.

“We knew that was most probably the case before. ‘Tis merely a confirmation of what we suspected.”

Lucien grimaced and touched his brother’s arm. “You must not lose hope, Brian. Constance deserves better.”

Brian did not reply. He could not seem to find the words to form on his tongue.

“I know you love her, Brian.”

He nodded. Why deny it?

Lucien sighed. “And I believe she loves you, too. I don’t believe in fate, or I don’t think I do. But if anyone was fated to be together, it is you and Constance.”

“Do you think so?” Brian asked.

“Aye, I do. Which is why you cannot give up on her. She will find a way to get away from him, and you must find a way to find her.”

“I don’t even know where to look.” Brian rubbed his chest where his heart was. “I have no idea. And this time, there will be no ransom. He wants me, Luc. This is what this is all about.”

Lucien moved restlessly away from the castle doors and kicked at a loose rock. “Hmm. I think most animals are territorial. If I were to hazard a guess I would say Loutrant is. He would stay around the area he was most familiar with.”

Brian thought about it for a moment and then nodded his agreement. “You may be right. ‘Twould put him somewhere around his former castle.”

“Precisely.” Lucien frowned. “I don’t know the area well.”

Brian straightened from leaning on the wall next to the doors. “I do. I used to go there often when Katherine was alive. There’s a small village near to the castle. And the castle is on a cliff by the sea, so there are many caves.”

“To hide in.”

Brian nodded. “Aye. No doubt where he has been himself all the while we have thought him dead.”

“How will we find Constance?” Lucien voiced what Brian feared. It would be impossible. Or near to it.

Brian glanced at the sky. It was near dark and he did not relish traveling at night, but neither did he want to delay searching for Constance.

“We’ll leave at once. Tell the others.”

Brian walked back into the castle to get ready. He had no squire. There hadn’t been a reason for one after all these years. Now he would have to gather his equipment himself.

Brian had one foot on the steps to go upstairs when the front doors of the castle were flung violently open.

“Brian!” Stephen shouted, running toward him.

“What is it?” He was filled with a keen sense of dread. His stomach twisted in knots.

“We have Loutrant’s brother,” Stephen said. He bent over, struggling to catch his breath. Droplets of sweat fell from his forehead.

Coming through the same doors was Brian’s son.

“How?”

“He surrendered to us,” Trevor explained, catching up to Stephen. “We were near the village, coming back from questioning the villagers about Constance. Marcus approached us.”

“And where is he?” Brian asked, frowning.

“The guards are holding him outside. We came for you.” Stephen straightened. “He says he has seen Constance.”

“Then she is alive?” Brian managed to ask around the lump clogging his throat.

“Aye, Brian.” Stephen grabbed his brother’s arm. “Come, he asks to see you.”

****

“We move on from here,” Loutrant told Constance with a glare. She sat stiffly on the cot.

“Where are you taking me now?” she asked, keeping her voice neutral.

“Fitzroy is clever. He may figure out I am near Loutrant Castle. He may even guess I am at the village near to it. I dare not risk staying here. Surprise must be on my side.”

“That doesn’t tell me where you are taking me,” Constance dared to point out.

A cold glint lit Loutrant’s blue eyes. “What does it matter where you go? The end result will be the same. Your death.” He laughed low. “And the death of all the Fitzroys.”

“Why do you hate so?” Her voice came out raw and slight.

“I do not hate everything. Just my enemies.” He frowned. “‘Tis not so unusual.”

“Why are the Fitzroys your enemies, Finius?” Constance took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Is it because of Katherine and Brian, or is there more?”

Loutrant glanced toward the tiny window. “It grows dark. We have no time for this.”

“I just want to understand.”

“Brian has always gotten what I should have.” Loutrant’s voice was soft, low, barely a whisper. “Even before Katherine.”

He pulled her up from the cot, his fingers digging into her arm. “Come, we travel quickly and silently. I will not hesitate to give you another blow to the head if you make a sound.”

Constance stumbled but righted herself. “You’re hurting my arm.”

“It will seem as nothing soon enough,” Loutrant vowed, though he lessened his grip. He dragged her to the door and then glanced around the small cottage. “I should burn this place and all around it to the ground. It belongs to Nicholas Fitzroy now. It would be a fitting end for these traitors.”

Constance shook her head, desperately trying to dissuade him from such evil deeds. She would not want innocent villagers to suffer. “But you will not have time, Fin. You want to get away before Brian and the others find us.”

Loutrant’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “You are right. I have not the time. Where is that idiot Marcus? This would be a perfect task.”

He pushed her through the door of the cottage and Constance tumbled to the ground. Her knee hit the hard dirt and the sound of her gown tearing broke the stillness of the early evening. She winced at the searing pain and looked at her knee. As she suspected, blood stained her surcoat.

Loutrant’s fingers gripped her upper arm and he yanked her up. “Get up. Stop wasting our time.”

Constance spit out the soil she’d tasted when she hit the ground. She wondered if she ought to yell for help. Some of the villagers might come to her aid. Not too far from where she and Loutrant stood, Constance could make out other cottages. Two or three, at least.

She opened her mouth on a scream. His recent threat of another blow to her head closed it. If he knocked her out again, she would be less likely to make an escape later.

Besides, Constance reminded herself, Loutrant was a vicious man. He would kill any villager who sought to interfere with his nefarious plans. She could not have someone else’s death on her conscience.

Loutrant dragged her toward a group of thick foliage. The sound of a horse pawing the earth reached her ears. The animal was impatient to be on its way, much like its master.

****

Brian stared at Marcus. A man, he knew, who had helped Loutrant on many occasions against the Fitzroys. Someone he should loathe, surely.

Yet now, Marcus knelt before him, his face smeared with dirt and dried blood, and Brian could not hate him. Marcus was little more than a boy around Trevor’s age.

Brian crouched down to face Marcus. “Tell me what you know.”

Marcus blinked and stared at Brian, his eyes fearful, his cheeks pale. He trembled, took a shaky breath, and then said, “I—I want to tell you.” He stopped, choking.

“Slow down,” Brian said, gently, taking pity on him. “No one here will harm you.”

Marcus nodded and swallowed. “Loutrant has Constance.”

“We know,” Stephen snapped, standing a few feet away.

Brian shot his brother a warning glance. “Go on,” he urged Marcus.

“He is, no doubt, moving her this very moment,” Marcus said. “She was at a cottage in the village by Loutrant Castle.”

“Fitzroy Castle now,” Stephen interjected.

“Stephen.” Brian glanced at his brother again. Stephen flushed.

“But he is moving her,” Marcus continued. “He doesn’t want to stay in one place for long.”

Stephen moved closer to Marcus, scowling. “We watched Loutrant die. How is it he is still alive?”

Brian intended to interrupt and tell Stephen such explanations did not matter now. There would be time to hear about Loutrant’s miraculous survival later.

“Fin fell into the sea from the tower,” Marcus replied. “He was rescued by an old man who had a cottage near.”

“Where is your brother taking her?” Brian asked quickly before Stephen had another chance to speak. He clenched his fist.

Marcus shook his head. “Nay, he is not.”

Brian frowned. “What?”

“My brother,” Marcus babbled. “He is not my brother. I—I found out. He is not my brother.”

Brian refrained from shaking the young man. He had no time for this. “Where is Loutrant taking Constance?”

“He mentioned the cottage where the old man lived.”

“The one by the sea?”

“Aye. He took me there less than a fortnight ago. I think he might have done something to the man because he was not there.” Marcus stared hard at Brian. “There are many caves there. Places to hide. I told your lady to hide there if she can. I gave her some herbs to use against Fin.”

“Why would you help her?” Stephen demanded.

“I am tired of all of it. The killings, the trickery.” Marcus grabbed Brian’s shirt of mail. “Fin is mad. He is doing all this to get you. He wants you dead.”

“I know.”

“And there is more.” Marcus gulped. “A man who worked for us spied on Fitzroy Castle for weeks.”

“Bastard,” Stephen ground out.

“Stephen, for God’s sake, be quiet,” Brian said, losing all patience with his brother.

Stephen turned and walked away. But Brian did not care.

“The man saw you kissing a blonde woman and he thought she was Constance,” Marcus continued.

Brian frowned. He was kissing a blonde woman? He shook his head, trying to recall such an occasion recently. The only woman he could recall kissing was Constance. No other woman mattered.

“Her name is Vanessa,” Marcus answered to Brian’s confusion.

Vanessa. Of course, Brian had nearly forgotten her. His heart skipped a beat. What did Loutrant have to do with Vanessa?

“He abducted Vanessa and produced her to Fin.” Marcus looked down at his fingers, entwined in Brian’s shirt. “My brother, I mean Finius, wanted her killed.”

Brian grasped Marcus’ arm. “Are you saying Loutrant killed Vanessa?”

“Nay. The hired man killed her escort when he took her but I did not want to see the woman dead when she had done nothing wrong.” Marcus trembled. “I—I disobeyed Fin and took her to safety. He believes her dead.”

“Thank the Lord for your small bit of conscience,” Brian said.

“I will tell you where she is, also. If—if anything happens to me, I would see she is safe,” Marcus replied, looking down.

“You will take us to this cottage by the sea,” Brian ordered, disengaging Marcus’ grip from him and rising from the ground.

“I would rather avoid seeing Fin again.”

Brian exhaled, his chest aching. “As would I, Marcus. But my former captor and your former brother is not yet done with either of us. Ready yourself. We leave immediately.”

****

Constance watched Loutrant out of the corner of her eye. He would not turn away.

She tried not to grit her teeth, but Lord, she was losing patience. How was she to slip the sleeping herbs into his food if he would not cooperate?

“Eat your food.” Loutrant glowered from the chair he sat on. He shifted, restless and on edge since their arrival.

They’d reached the cottage by the sea a short time ago, and the soothing sound of waves crashing ashore surrounded them. The dwelling was deserted and nearly empty save for two small cots and a table with two chairs and two benches. There were three windows, one each on the three walls that did not house the door.