Impostress (9 page)

Elyn should have been here in this bed.
Her
bed. She should have been the one whose chemise was drawn over her head, whose breasts were kissed and laved, whose legs were parted ...

Images of the night before flashed behind Kiera's eyes, and the ache pulsing through her head was intensified by her guilt. Once more the sharp soreness between her legs reminded her of how foolish she'd been. Throughout the night, she'd given herself to Kelan of Penbrooke over and over again. As if he were truly her husband. She'd known it was wrong, but hadn't been able to resist this man, this husband of her sister.

Oh, Lord, what would happen when Elyn sneaked back into the castle? She could never know,
never
learn that Kiera had made love with her husband. Shame burned through Kiera as she tried to inch away from Kelan. What would she do now that she had known this man's touch? What was to be become of her now that she no longer had her virginity to bring to her own real marriage?

And where the devil was Elyn?

Had she returned from her tryst with Brock, and was she already waiting in some alcove, ready to trade places?

Or was she still missing?

Hardly daring to breathe for fear she would wake Kelan, Kiera slowly extracted her arm from beneath him and, wincing against the pain running through her body, slid her legs to the side of the bed. She noticed the stain on the rumpled sheets and thought of the vial of pig's blood that had been wasted.
Think not of it. Find Elyn. Now. Explain that ... that what? That even though you finally agreed to her plan, you didn't hold up your end of the bargain? That the potion took too long to work? That you couldn't refuse Kelan of Penbrooke? That you were so overcome by drink that you found the man irresistible? What kind of pathetic excuses are those?

Kiera shoved aside the nagging recriminations pounding through her tender brain. There was no turning over the hourglass, or changing the sundial. 'Twas done. She'd pretended to be her sister as planned, but then things had gone awry. Last night she'd made love to her "husband," and could even now be carrying his child. Her mouth turned to sand at the thought.
What then? What then?

No! She couldn't think of that. Noiselessly she placed her legs over the side of the bed though her mind was still unclear.
Hurry, Kiera. You don't have much time. He will eventually awaken. You must locate Elyn.

Standing woozily, she took a deep breath, and was determined to set things right. Well, as right as they could be. She snatched her soiled chemise off the floor and threw the flimsy garment over her head. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Elyn's wedding dress. Shuddering, she told herself she would
never
wear that horrid gown again. Never. There had to be something else. Her feet bare, Kiera hurried to the small alcove where Elyn kept her clothes. All the tunics and gowns were in the vibrant colors her sister loved. Red Lincoln velvet, yellow damask, a deep blue silk ... suddenly, she imagined Elyn as if her sister were close by, and she felt deep, unbearable shame at what she'd done. A lump filled Kiera's throat, yet she felt anger as well. For Elyn had left her to her fate.

Curse you, Elyn, where are you?

Have you not returned? Mayhap because you didn't believe I would take your place. Mayhap you didn't expect me to go through with your plan.

But why then did Elyn visit her in the early morning? More important, Kiera thought angrily, why put her in this impossible situation to begin with? Everything that could go wrong
had
gone wrong, and horribly so.

Without any answers, Kiera angrily pulled on the first tunic she reached. Then, refusing to gaze at the man sleeping so damned peacefully in Elyn's bed, she edged silently to the side of the bed where she'd left the vials. She needed to retrieve them and hide them on the off chance that he might waken before she returned.

She noticed one of the vials pushed near the wall by the bed. Silently she bent down to pick it up just as Kelan snored loudly and rolled, throwing an arm in her direction, his fingers narrowly missing her shoulder. She froze. Didn't move a muscle. He muttered something and his eyes moved beneath his eyelids.

She tried again, stretching her arm just as he sighed and, to her horror, opened an eye. Her heart stopped.

Slowly she drew back her hand and saw his eyelid lower, as if he hadn't caught a glimpse of her.

She couldn't risk him seeing her with the vials. She could explain being out of the bed, that she needed to go to the latrine and relieve herself, or that she needed to send for her maid. But she would have no excuse to be carrying pig's blood and an empty little jar that had been used for sleeping potion.

Carefully, not making a sound, she kicked the rushes a bit, hiding the vessels. Then, holding her breath, she quickly made her way to the door.

Kelan didn't stir.

She paused with her ear to the thick oak and strained to listen. It wouldn't do to have someone in the castle see her sneaking out of Elyn's bedchamber. Through the panels she heard not a sound, yet her palms were wet with sweat as she unlatched the door. It creaked open and she cringed inwardly.

The hallway was empty and nearly dark.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time.

Kelan didn't move.

Good.

Slipping noiselessly into the corridor she closed the door with a soft thud. Torchlights burned low in the hallway, giving off smoke and some light. And the early morning sounds of the castle stirring, muffled conversation, footsteps, and even quiet bursts of laughter filtered through the darkened corridors to her ears.

Heart constricted, sweat collecting down her back, she hurried into her own chamber and prayed that Kelan wouldn't wake up. Not for hours. If she was to find Elyn, she would need time. That was, if Elyn had decided to return.

Don't think like that. Of course she wants to return. She wouldn't leave you in this predicament forever. Nay!

But that little nagging worry didn't leave Kiera's mind as she hastily washed herself with the water in a basin. She wiped her face and arms and even quickly cleansed the sore spot between her legs with the cool water. Afterward, she finger combed her hair and changed into her favorite gold-colored tunic and deerskin boots. After swinging her heavy mantle over her shoulders, she pocketed her dagger, a weapon she never failed to carry since her encounter with the thug in the forest, which still haunted her.

Her stomach was in her throat as she entered the hallway again. What if someone had realized she was not Elyn during the ceremony? What if Elyn had been caught stealing back into the castle and now their father knew of their deception? What if, God forbid, Elyn had been hurt and couldn't return?

Kiera hurried down the back staircase and braced herself as the sound of footsteps pounded up the stone steps.

"Oh!" Penelope cried, nearly running her sister over.
"There
you are." She seemed relieved. "Where's, Elyn?"

"I don't know."

"What? But I thought the plan was—"

"She didn't return last night," Kiera whispered as Penelope followed her down the staircase to the second floor. "I was hoping that you or Hildy may have heard from her."

"No. I've heard nothing."

"Damn."

"Then ... then ..." Penelope's eyes rounded in comprehension. "But I thought she was to come back and—"

"So did I!" Kiera pulled her sister into an alcove and pressed a finger to her own lips. "But then it wasn't as if we had an agreement. She could have thought I wasn't going to take her place, for I never said I would. Oh, damn." Frustration burned through her. "Listen, Penelope, not a word of this to anyone!"

Penelope nodded, her head bobbing in hasty agreement. "No one."

"Just Hildy. We'll need someone to help us. Now, I have not much time. I must find Elyn before her husband awakens."

"Her husband," Penelope repeated thoughtfully as she stared at Kiera. "What happened last night? You know, after Lord Kelan went upstairs to Elyn's chamber?" Penelope blinked and swallowed at the horror of it.

"Nothing," Kiera whispered harshly, though she felt her cheeks flame. "I mean he was drunk and I gave him the potion and ... he's still sleeping. Now, I'm going to go see Father, show the servants that I'm feeling better. But I'll say that I ran into Elyn in the hallway when she was going to the latrine and ... oh, bother, what will I say ... oh! That she is still feeling ill ... nay, that she is tired, that's it, and she wants—no, she and her new
husband
want their food brought to them and left outside the door. Then you must see that no one goes into the room."

"But why would they not come downstairs?"

"Because they're so ... so involved."

"What? Oh ..." Penelope rolled her eyes. "I couldn't—oh!"

Kiera grabbed the front of her sister's tunic. "You can and you must, do you hear me? If anyone finds out what I've, I mean, what Elyn and I have done, 'twill be hideous. Unthinkable! Father will probably collapse and die, just after he's flailed Elyn and me— and, yes you—for lying, until we are near dead; the Lord of Penbrooke will be embarrassed at being played for a fool and will ... will probably flog me yet again, as well as Elyn and anyone else involved in the plot."

"Y-you mean me?" Penelope whispered, properly terrified as she finally grasped the solemnity of the situation.

"Of course, you, too," Kiera said to make her point. She remembered all too well the steely edge to Kelan's words last night, the furious glint in his eye when he'd warned her not to play him for a fool. "And Hildy! Do you want her death on your hands? Listen to me, we are all in this together." Kiera was desperate. "Please, Penelope, help me."

"I—I guess I have no choice," she said, looking over her shoulder as if suddenly aware they might be overheard.

"That's right. This is your only choice. So you must make sure that no one goes into Elyn's chamber."

"What if
he
comes out?"

"That should be all right. As long as he doesn't see me. He'll sleep a long time, though, I think."

Penelope's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because he is tired!" Kiera snapped, then realized she, too, was near dead on her feet. She'd slept so little ... "He rode for hours before he got here, then there was the wedding and the feast and ... and all the wine and the elixir. He drank a lot. He'll not raise his head for hours."

Penelope's eyebrows raised suspiciously, as if she didn't believe Kiera's excuses. "And so you actually slept with him?" Was there a trace of awe in her voice?

"I slept very little," Kiera admitted, for that much was the truth, but she embellished it enough to satisfy her sister's rampant curiosity. " 'Twas difficult with him there snoring."

"In the bed with you?"

"Yes," Kiera hissed, for her sister would believe nothing less. "I was jumpy and nervous all night. Never closed my eyes. Now, see that meals are brought up and left outside the door! You can suggest that Elyn and her husband want to dine ... in privacy." Her head was really pounding now. How long could she keep up this pretense? Elyn had to return. She
had
to. And soon. "Check Elyn's favorite hiding places, the bell tower, and the weaving room and ... the wine cellar. I'll search the hayloft and ..." A heavy tread clambered up the stairs, and the fat laundress carrying a huge basket of bed linens waddled, breathing hard, along the hallway.

"M'ladies," she said with a nod of her head. "Good mornin' to ye both."

"And you, too," Kiera said. Penelope looked as if she was about to faint dead away.

"She saw us," Penelope hissed as the laundress disappeared around the corner.

"She sees us every day."

"But not ... you know, plotting and scheming and lying here in the dark."

Kiera wanted to slap Penelope silly. The girl was such a twit! But a good-hearted one. "Come on." Kiera tugged her younger sister from the shadows. "Think nothing of it. Now, if you find Elyn, for God's sake send her to her bedchamber!"

"Won't the Lord of Penbrooke know that she's different? I mean, a different person? Not you?"

For an odd reason Kiera didn't want to acknowledge, her heart twisted, adding to the ache already pounding dully through her brain. "It was dark last night. He was in his cups. As I said, he ... he fell asleep."

"But—"

"Just do your part, Penelope, please!" Kiera snapped. "Try to find Elyn, for surely, if she's returned from meeting Brock, she's hiding somewhere so that no one will see her, as she's supposed to be in the bedchamber with her new husband!"

"I shall, but what if something goes wrong?"

"Such as?"

"Such as we don't find her."

Kiera's heart dropped, for Penelope was voicing her own worst fears. "Then I'll go out and look for her. Meet me at the stable and let me know ... either shake your head if you haven't found her or nod if you have." She grabbed her sister's slim shoulder. "And whatever else you do, don't let anyone into Elyn's bedchamber. Make sure that Father, the serving girls, and the nosy steward realize that the newly wedded couple want their privacy."

"If that's possible."

"It has to be! Now go. We have to find her before her husband wakes." Again Kiera's silly heart wrenched, but she paid it no mind. She could not, would not, so much as think she might care for the man with whom she'd spent the night. Oh, Lord, this was such an impossible mess.

She passed by the solar and paused, thinking she should take the time to explain her absence at Elyn's wedding. But Kemper, the steward, was just closing the door to the chamber.

"The lord doesn't wish to be disturbed this morning," Kemper insisted when she asked for access. A tall, narrow-shouldered man with clever eyes and tight, disapproving lips, he was forever looking down his hooked nose.

"I would like a word with him."

"Can it wait?" If possible, his mouth pulled into a tighter line. Better not to raise his suspicions.

"Aye. I'll be back later after ... after I go for a ride, but please, if you speak to him, tell him I would like to see him as soon as I can."