Impostress (33 page)

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Authors: Lisa Jackson

Tags: #Impostors and Imposture, #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Sisters, #Missing persons, #General, #Middle Ages

BOOK: Impostress
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She thought she heard a footstep behind her and turned, squinting into the night, but no one appeared. The keep was nearly deserted and yet she felt a presence, as if someone was watching her. Goose bumps pebbled her arms. 'Twas foolish. No one was about. And yet ...

Was it her imagination or did she hear her name whispered over the breeze?

"Kiera."

Kiera's blood turned to ice. No one knew her by her given name.

"Over here." The voice was weak, as if in pain.

Kiera whirled, her eyes searching the darkness.

"Kiera!" Louder this time. More distinct. And clearly from someone who knew who she really was.

Elyn's voice.

But that was impossible. Elyn was dead. Lost in the icy current of the river ...

Heart thudding she scanned the night-shadowed bailey. Past a hayrick and the well, beyond the garden, she scoured the shadows.

Had she imagined it? Was her mind playing cruel jokes upon her, conjuring up the haunted, frail voice of her sister?

Squinting, she saw a figure hiding behind the ferret kennels. Kiera's heart beat crazily as the woman stumbled forward. Wearing a fur-lined cloak that didn't disguise the tattered, bloodied tunic beneath, the ethereal figure slipped out of the shadows. She made a faltering step forward.

Elyn! The woman was Elyn! Oh, God, she was alive and here or ... or ... Kiera stopped short. Was this really her sister, or was it Elyn's ghost?

Chapter Twenty-Six

Her heart wedged in her throat, Kiera flung herself toward her sister or the damned apparition, whatever it was.

Tears of relief filled her eyes and she wrapped her arms around the stiff form of her sister. Not a ghost. Not an apparition. Not a cruel image of her mind, but her real, flesh-and-blood sister. "I thought ... oh, thank God you're alive! I thought you'd drowned! Where have you been? I've been waiting so long ... oh, God, look at you. What happened?"

Kiera held her sister at arm's length and saw the dark accusations in Elyn's eyes, the haunted expression that aged her face a dozen years.

"You knew not what had happened to me and yet you stepped willingly into my shoes," Elyn said, her voice condemning, her face pale as death in the moonlight. "I'm certain you never thought you'd have to give them back to me."

"But you wanted me to do this! You left." What was Elyn thinking? Why was she making such bizarre accusations? Did she now want to claim Kelan as her husband? How? 'Twas too late.

From one of the towers there was a cough—one of the sentries. Kiera dragged her sister down a path toward the stables. "I never considered myself Kelan's wife."

Elyn snorted and held her middle as if it ached. "Do not lie."

"I'm not. You didn't return to Lawenydd as you promised, nor were you here when we arrived. I didn't want to do this deed, Elyn. It was your idea. Your plan. You left me without a word, to face— what did you call him?—the Beast of Penbrooke and marry him." Anger tore through Kiera's soul. How could her sister blame her? "You abandoned me. To be with Brock, remember?"

Elyn's features twisted, making her appear grotesque in the moonlight. "Brock," she said as if the man were dead.

"Oh, please ..." Kiera lowered her voice when she witnessed her sister's bald pain. "Let's not fight. I am so glad that you're alive. Joseph came with the news that you'd lost your life in a river and I ... I thought I'd never see you again."

"I've heard the rumors, sister," Elyn whispered, undeterred by Kiera's plea. "I hid in a closet by the kitchen where the wenches gossip. They are half in love with the lord themselves and made jokes about bedding him, but they seem to think it impossible now because the baron appears quite taken with his wife, meaning you. And they say that the two of you are in love and that he's never been happier in his life."

Elyn's voice raised an octave with each new charge, and Kiera was torn between elation that her sister was alive and dismal regret at her sister's hostility.

With difficulty, Elyn pushed a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. "So is it true? Do you love him?"

Kiera's heart wrenched. She swallowed hard and felt the weight of the barony upon her shoulders. Yet she could not lie. There had been enough lies as it was. A harsh wind cut across the bailey and scraped her face. She loved Kelan of Penbrooke with all of her heart. The truth was impossible to hide. "Aye," she admitted, nodding. " 'Twas not expected, but oh, none of this was." She reached out to touch her sister's arm, but Elyn recoiled swiftly, as if the thought of her sister's touch was repulsive.

"And he loves you?"

"So he has said."

"Then you've slept with him? Made love to him?"

"Aye," she whispered.

"I knew it!"

"How could I not?" Kiera demanded, suddenly angry. She was vaguely aware of a noise in the bailey, but she was so incensed at Elyn's ridiculous accusations and recriminations that she ignored it. "You didn't return when you said you would. When you first told me of this plan of yours, you were to return that night, and when I didn't want to go through with it, you left me anyway. I thought you would be as good as your word, but nay, I waited and waited. Me, Penelope, and Hildy, and you sent no word. Not one," she reminded her sister. Her fists were clenched, pride stiffening her spine. "Even if you had returned, Elyn, it was too late. Your plan was flawed, so horridly flawed. Kelan's no fool and he'd already seen me far too often to be deceived by my switching places with you."

"I was detained."

"It matters not," Kiera declared. "I drugged him, but he caught me the next day. I skulked about the keep trying to find you, I lied to Father, and I worried ... never knowing what had happened to you. I did everything you asked, it didn't work, and 'tis not my fault. The only blame I will accept is that aye, I fell in love with him. Despite everything and my promises to myself, I love him."

Elyn's jaw tightened. "So now you want to remain his wife?"

"Nay ... I want not to be his wife if he is to think I am you," she admitted, though the admission hurt. "And there is no other way. You cannot return now and pretend that you have been his wife all along. Too much time has passed. Everyone here recognizes me as his wife.
Kelan
considers me his wife. And that is what you wanted, isn't it? You had no intention of returning," Kiera said, speaking the suspicion that had gnawed at her soul.

Elyn's lips compressed. She didn't answer. Probably couldn't face the truth. "Tell me of Lawenydd."

" 'Tis no different. Hildy and Penelope kept the secret and I pretended that I left Lawenydd to spend some time with you. I lied and said that you wanted me to accompany you to Penbrooke, so that Father wouldn't miss me. But now the truth is known, and no doubt Father is furious with all of us. I know all this because Joseph came here to Penbrooke." Stung by Elyn's unfair accusations, she turned away from her sister.

The sound of a horse whinnying within its stall echoed through the night. Not able to face Elyn, she asked, "Why did you not return as you'd said you would? What detained you?"

There was silence and when Kiera looked over her shoulder, she found Elyn bracing herself against the wall of the stable, both her arms wrapped around her torso. " 'Twas foolish," she admitted, a tear tracking down her cheek. "I thought Brock ..." Her voice broke and she shuddered, then cleared her throat. " 'Tis true. I wasn't coming back, Kiera. Brock and I had planned to run off." Her eyes seemed to flatten with a dark rage. "Then he changed his mind. Claimed that he had to marry Wynnifrydd, as she was with child." Elyn's lips twisted at the irony. "Fortunately he never knew of ours. And now 'tis gone."

"Of yours? Gone? What are you saying?" Her heart nearly stopped, and though she was barely listening, she heard the sound of the portcullis opening, of hoofbeats thudding against the cold ground.

"Aye, Kiera. I was carrying Brock's babe; that's why I could not return, why I couldn't marry Penbrooke. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with ..." She choked and sobbed, then, as if mentally slapping herself, took in a deep breath. "But when he told me of Wynnifrydd and her babe, I rode off angrily. I just ... I just had to get away from him. From the thought of another woman ... from everything. The horse shied. I ended up in the river. I nearly drowned, only I was saved and survived. The child did not."

Kiera's heart wrenched painfully. What if it were her? What if she'd lost her child before it was born? Would anything be worse? More tragic? "I'm so sorry ... Elyn ... dear God." She turned to embrace her sister, but Elyn held up a hand, stopping her again. Clearing her throat, Elyn looked away, and her sadness seemed even greater than before.

Whispering, she said, "So I have returned. To relieve you and tell my husband the truth." She leaned heavily against the wall as if she could no longer stand. "Except that you are now in love with my husband, and mayhap with a child of your own." Her hand shook as she brushed her hair from her eyes. " 'Tis a dismal mess I've made."

"One we shall straighten out," Kiera insisted as she placed a firm grip upon her sister's arm. "Come. You're weary. Let's go inside. You can rest and I'll have Cook bring up some soup and wine and we shall talk."

"What good will talking do?" Elyn wondered aloud. Then she glanced past Kiera's shoulder and in the weak moonglow seemed to pale even further.

"I know not, but somehow we must find a way to tell Kelan the truth. I tried but he did not believe me," Kiera was saying as she heard the hoofbeats behind her and knew in that one heartbeat that someone had overheard them. She froze for a second, then gathered in her breath and turned slowly.

"The truth," Kelan said from atop his destrier as he looked down his nose from one sister to the next. His expression was harsh. Dark. Uncompromising. His eyes reflected the icy moonlight; his lips were blade thin. "And what, I wonder, is that?"

Kiera died a thousand deaths in the span of that one heart-stopping second.

Kelan dismounted and another horse came into view, a dappled animal ridden by the constable. If possible, Kiera's heart felt heavier. Slowly, each step seeming to take forever, Kelan approached. His jaw was set, and the cords in his neck stood erect. Fury radiated from him in hot, hostile waves.

"Explain yourself," he growled.

She reached a hand to touch Kelan's chest, but he caught her wrist and glowered down at her with icy gray eyes. "What is it,
wife?"
he demanded, his fingers clamping over the bones in her forearm like a vise. "What have you got to say for yourself? Who is this woman who looks so much like you?" He hitched his chin toward Elyn cowering in the shadows; then his eyebrows rose as he focused hard upon her. "Is she your sister?"

"Aye," Kiera said, sick inside.

"Kiera?" he asked, his voice taunting.

Kiera's head snapped up and she glanced at Elyn. Then she shook her head.

"Well, 'tis not your younger sister, Penelope. I met her at the wedding." His eyes narrowed and Kiera sensed the wheels turning in his mind, his thoughts a tangle of doubts, suspicions, and lies. "Or is it the other way around?" he bit out, his face set in white-hot fury.

From atop his stallion the constable cleared his throat. "M'lord?"

"See to the horses," Kelan ordered, then, to Kiera, sneered, "Come,
wife!
Into the great hall. You, too!" He motioned toward Elyn. "We have much to discuss."

"She's ill," Kiera protested.

"We'll tend to her, but I'll not have this conversation in the middle of the bailey where any servant or freeman might hear!" Jerking on her arm, he led her along the path to the keep while Elyn, trying to hold on to the rags of her dignity, hoisted her chin and slowly followed after.

So it had come to this: the great reckoning. Kiera's insides were knotted as she, looking over her shoulder at her sister, was half dragged into the great hall. Some of the guards looked their way but said nothing, while Kiera's heart was knocking wildly in her rib cage. How could she explain herself? How could Elyn? And what did Kelan already know? 'Twas as if he was already taunting her, scorching her with his gaze. The fingers surrounding her arm were punishing, his grip a manacle.

Once they were inside the great hall, Kelan pointed with his free hand to a wooden chair on the hearth. "You, whoever you are, sit," he ordered Elyn. She hesitated, seemed about to argue, then seeing the flare of determination in his gray gaze, dropped like lead onto the seat near the fire. "Now, who are you?"

Elyn looked miserable as she searched for words. "I'm ..."

"She's your wife," Kiera said quickly. The truth had to come from her lips.

"My
wife?"

Kiera nodded and saw the twist to his lips, the flare of anger in his eyes. He'd known. From the moment he'd found the sisters in the bailey, or even before. What she told him was not the surprise she'd expected. "Elyn of Lawenydd."

"So you were telling the truth the other night when I thought that you were joking?" Kelan said with a quiet, burning rage. "Why did you not correct my assumption ... Kiera—isn't this your given name?"

Oh, God. Help me.
He glared at her so intensely she wanted to shrink through the floor, but she couldn't. "Yes, Kelan," she whispered, her heart in her throat. "I am Kiera, Elyn's sister."

"But you have been here, with me, these past ..." His voice drifted off and Kiera knew he was thinking of her erratic behavior during the wedding ceremony and directly after, of her refusal to join the guests and pleas of illness, of the hidden vials, of his drugged state, of her aversion to being with people who might recognize her, of her desire not to come to Penbrooke. Every muscle in his face tightened and the skin over his cheeks stretched taut. His lips barely moved as he whispered, "You've deceived me all along; you lied to me, to my family ... when I thought you were telling the truth, you were lying. When you were telling the truth, I thought you were jesting. How can I ever trust such a woman?" Kelan asked, his heart hardening against the woman he had thought was his wife. "How can I trust any woman? It turns out the woman I thought was my wife is an impostress, and the woman who is my wife is a liar and a horse thief. You both plotted and planned to ruin me, my family, and my name."

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