Prisoner of My Desire (23 page)

“Is there a reason you await me out here, wench, instead of where you belong?”

“I escaped,” Rowena replied baldly.

“Did you?”

The skepticism of that reply, as well as Warrick’s smile, told her he did not believe her. Well and good. She would get more said if he thought her spinning improbable tales for his amusement—as long as she left out the key words that were sure to enrage him.

So she shrugged, sighing. “Alas, I am not noble enough to take blame here when blame is not mine. I
had
to leave, else I would have spent last eventide in your dungeon.”

“Ah,” he said, as if that explained all. “You dreaded a place that by your own words you found to be ‘really quite comfortable.’”

Did he have to remember what she had told the Lady Isabella?

“’Twould not have been so
this
time,” she replied sourly, then quickly reverted to a nonchalant tone. “And I tell you true, I would not have returned, except I was found by the most dastardly lord who thought to use me to gain entry to Fulkhurst, which he came here to capture.”

When that did not raise a brow, she was annoyed enough to lay on the insouciance even thicker. “As to that, it might behoove you to enter Fulkhurst and make ready for a siege. On the other hand, I might have dispersed the army that was waiting in yonder woods with a few simple truths. I cannot be sure, mind you. But I explained to one of the knights that I knew for a fact that the lord he and his fellows were following had no right to their service, and so they ought to return to their rightful lord. I am afraid I also painted a rather black picture of you, on the off chance that fear might work where logic fails.”

“I gladly accept all embellishments to my reputation.”

“You
would
,” she grumbled.

He grinned at her. ’Tell me now how you enacted this remarkable escape.”

“’Twas not easy,” she assured him quickly, too quickly, for he laughed, still assuming he was being “amused.”

“If I thought it was,” he replied lightly, “I would install you back in the dungeon myself
for safekeeping, though I wouldst visit you—often.”

The likelihood that
he
was not joking put an end to Rowena’s attempt to “amuse” him. “You are returned just in time to save your castle, as well as your family. I would have tried, but there is no guarantee that your men would have believed me when I told them that the ‘king’s’ man who just fled here was no king’s man at all, that he planned to open the gates to his army later this night. Had you returned any later, you might have found him captured if I had been believed, or if I had not been believed you might have found your daughters held hostage to his demands, and what he meant to demand was your life.”

All amusement had left him ere she finished; in fact, his expression had grown quite dark. “Why do I feel you are no longer jesting?”

“Because I am not, nor have I been. ’Tis all true, Warrick. You will find evidence of that army in those woods east of here, if not the army itself—if they do not come to besiege you this very night. The dastardly lord? He—he is my stepbrother. He came here because he wants revenge against you—for destroying Kirkburough. You understand revenge, do you not?”

Without answering, Warrick leaned down and yanked her onto his horse. His hands, which held her in front of him, bit deeply into her flesh, as did the conclusion he came to. “And you would have helped him.”

“I would have betrayed him!”

“You expect me to believe that?” he asked sharply. “Your own brother?”

“No blood relation, and despised so much that I would kill him,
will
kill him, if given the opportunity.”

“Then let me do it for you,” he suggested reasonably, though his tone was chilling. “Tell me where he can be found.”

Was it time for the whole truth? Nay, he was too angry just now to hear that, too.

She shook her head in denial. “You have taken more than enough from me. Now you wouldst take my revenge, too? I think not.”

He scowled at that answer. He even shook her for it. But she still would not volunteer the information he wanted. He finally growled low and released her. She had to grab for his chest to retain her perch. Then the drawbridge dropped, startling her, and the horse moved under her, and she realized she was running out of time to tell him the rest, which he would soon hear from others—but to her detriment.

“You have not asked why I would have been put in your dungeon, my lord.”

“You have more confessions to make?”

She winced at that snarl. “’Tis not a confession, but the truth as I know it. I was to be accused yestereve of stealing an item of great value from one of the castle ladies. ’Twas to be found in your solar, thereby proving my guilt. This would give an excuse to ‘question’ me about other supposed thefts. ’Twas hoped that there would not be much left of me to tempt you when you returned—and that the pain of my interro
gation would cause me to lose the babe I carry. I was not willing to suffer that when I was innocent of the charge, so I left ere the accusation could be made.”

“And if you are guilty, then you are making this confession to allay your guilt.”

“Except I am not. ’Twas Mildred who overheard the plot and warned me. You can ask her—”

“Think you I do not know she would lie for you? Best you do better than that to prove your innocence.”

“You see now why I had to leave,” she said bitterly. “I cannot acquit myself with other than what I have just told you. ’Tis you who will have to do so by proving my accuser a liar—else will you have to punish me with the severity that this crime demands.”

She felt him stiffen at those words. “Damn you, wench, what did you do to cause such enmity in this woman?”

Rowena took heart. The question said he believed her—or wanted to.

“I did naught,” she said simply. “’Tis not even me she wants to hurt, but you. And with me gone, she may not have accused me at all, or even reported the theft. ’Twould have served no purpose. With me returned, however, she may yet decide to do it, to force you to punish me.”

They had stopped before the castle tower. They had been stopped there for some time according to all the activity around them, men dismounting, horses being led away, squires and
stableboys jostling about. Rowena suddenly thought to ask, “Why
are
you returned so soon, Warrick?”

“Nay, you will not change this subject, wench. You will tell me who the lady is who thinks to hurt me through you, and you will tell me now.”

She slid off the horse before he could stop her, but she turned to look back up at him. “Do not ask me that. If she changes her mind, deciding to do naught, then she redeems herself and should not be punished for what she plotted in the heat of anger. If not, you will know soon enough.”

His scowl was blacker than ever, seen so easily now with so many torches lighting the inner bailey, then seen even easier as the sky cracked with thunder and flashed with lightning. A chill went down her back, for he looked like the very devil, sitting there passing judgment on her…then he sounded like it, too.

“I will decide what deserves punishment,” he warned her. “So do not think you can keep this from me as you have your brother’s name. I will have an answer or—”

“If you dare to threaten me after what I have been through,” she cut in furiously, “I swear I will lose what little food I ate today—which was army fare and rancid—right…on…your…foot! You would be better served by preparing for a siege—just in case—or is that not more important than one worthless prisoner who is going nowhere now, thanks to her accursed brother?
Then
you will have ample time, I doubt it not, to deal with my escape, my theft—my audacity!”

She whirled around and left him sitting there, too angry to care if she had enraged him beyond reason with her tirade. So she did not see the slow grin that came to his lips, or hear the laughter that followed. But his men did. And more than one wondered what he found so amusing whilst he issued orders that saw to the castle’s defenses.

The noise coming from the Great Hall predicted the evening meal was still in progress. Rowena could hear it as she mounted the stairs to the hall, and her step slowed. Her temper cooled as well with the reminder of what she was about to face.

She had intended to go straight to the kitchen to rectify the scant amount of food she had eaten that day, but now she changed her mind. Only there was no place
to
go that would not take her through that hall. Back outside, then? Nay, the first drops of the long-brewing storm had just started to fall as she had entered the tower. She had avoided being caught in it all day. She was not going back out in it now.

Warrick found her sitting dejectedly on the steps in the darkest shadows cast by the torches at both ends of the stairs. He waved on the few
men who had entered with him, until only he stood over her. She would not look up at him, though he knew she was aware ’twas him. She was not forthcoming with an explanation for being there either.

He finally had to ask, “What do you here? I would have thought you would be replacing that
rancid
meal in your belly with more tempting viands from Master Blouet—that you will not be as likely to vomit.”

She still did not look up, but she did shrug. “I would have thought so, too, but I have to enter the hall to get to the kitchen.”

“So?”

“So I—I would like you with me if I am to be accused.”

Rowena could not imagine why that statement would cause Warrick to draw her up into his arms and kiss her, but that was what he did. He was soaking wet, but she did not care. She clung to him, noting the lack of passion in that kiss, and welcoming what was there instead: warmth, safety, his strength—and tenderness. She almost cried, to be given something like that after what she had been through.

When he set her back, his hand still caressed her cheek, and his smile added warmth to his eyes. “Come,” he said gently and led her up the stairs with an arm about her waist. “I will not have you blame me again if you feel the urge to empty your belly—or is it the babe?”

“Nay—leastwise I do not think so.”

“Then go eat,” he said, pushing her toward the kitchen stairs.

“What about you?”

“I am sure I can make do without your attendance this once, though when you have finished, you can bring me a bottle of my new wine—and order us a bath.”

’Twas not a slip of the tongue, that “us,” and Rowena was still blushing from it as she entered the kitchen moments later. Once she was there, everything seemed normal. Work did not come to a standstill at her appearance. Guards were not summoned. But Mary Blouet did notice her, and bore down on her like a war-horse in full charge.

“I ought to take a stick to ye, girl,” were her first words as she pulled Rowena into the stores room, away from other ears. “Where the devil have ye been? The whole castle was searched. They even sent out patrols.”

“Did—did aught happen yestereve that I should be concerned about?”

“Ah, so that be why ye hid,” Mary replied, only to frown. “But ye were hiding long before then. I looked for ye all afternoon, as it happens, but—well, I told no one ye was missing. Ye earned the respite, was the way I saw it, as hard as Lord Warrick had been working ye. Then when Lady Beatrix made such a ruckus over her missing pearls—it be no wonder ye did not come out of hiding.”

So that was why Beatrix had gone ahead with her plan. She had not known that Rowena had left the castle, because Mary felt she had needed a rest. ’Twas worth laughing over, but Rowena had turned cold with dread at Mary’s confir
mation that she had a good reason to hide.

“Were the pearls found?”

“Aye, in Lord Warrick’s solar. It be strange, that. The guard Thomas said Lady Beatrix seemed to know right where those pearls would be, as if she had put them there herself. Yet Lady Beatrix claims ye be the one took them, since her sister says she saw you outside their chamber just before ’twas time to change for dinner.”

Rowena gasped. “When?”

“Before dinner,” Mary replied. “That was when they could not find the pearls, yet do they claim to have seen them just an hour earlier.”

“That wouldst be late afternoon when last they saw them?” Rowena asked excitedly.

“Aye, so they say.”

Rowena laughed. She almost hugged Mary Blouet; then her relief overcame her and she did hug her.

“Here now,” Mary grumbled, though not really displeased. “What was that for?”

“For letting me have a lazy day and not telling anyone about it, which is going to prove me innocent of Beatrix’s charge.”

“I do not see how, but I am right glad to hear it, for the guards are still looking for ye, girl. It be a wonder ye made it down here without being stopped.”

“Mayhap with Warrick at my side, they felt he would handle the matter now.”

“He be back?”

“Aye.” Rowena grinned. “And he has ordered me to eat, so I had best get to it. God’s mercy, I think I have my appetite back. I also need to
order a bath and a bottle of Tures wine.”

“Go eat, then. I will see to the bath and get the wine for ye.”

“Thank you, Mistress—”

“Mary,” the older woman said, grinning herself. “Aye, I think
ye
can call me Mary now.”

When Rowena entered the hall not long after, she cradled the bottle of wine in her arms like a babe. Her step was not the least hesitant, and she was grinning at Warrick by the time she reached him.

He did not look very pleased himself. He had heard the accusations. Verily, Beatrix had not even waited for him to come to the table, but had followed him into his solar to give him a full rendering of the facts whilst he changed his wet tunic and dried his hair.

Now his flaxen-haired wench looked as if she had a very pleasant secret to tell. He hoped so, for the case against her was damning.

He had moved to the hearth, the lord’s table already being cleared of the meal. Beatrix sat in one of the chairs, Melisant beside her on a stool. Warrick nodded Rowena into the other chair.

Beatrix gasped at this, though she said naught a word. Her father had been frowning at her ever since she had charged his leman with theft. That delighted her. She hoped he was furious. She would have preferred he come back to find the wench scarred and no longer desirable, but mayhap he would scar her himself when he passed judgment. At any rate, he would not take her back to his bed after he adjudged her guilty. Beatrix had at least accomplished that.

“My
daughter
,” Warrick began in disgust, addressing Rowena, “has made a serious charge against you, wench. How do you answer to the theft of a pearl necklace?”

“Did she say when it was taken?”

“When, Beatrix?”

“Just before the dinner hour,” Beatrix supplied.

“Ask her, my lord, how she is certain of this,” Rowena suggested.

“
How
, Beatrix?”

Beatrix just barely managed to keep a frown from her brow. She could not see what difference it made. The necklace was taken, then found in Warrick’s solar. Surely the wench was not going to suggest
he
took it.

“’Twas late afternoon when I last saw it and decided I would wear it to dinner. Not an hour later ’twas missing, and
she
”—she stabbed a finger toward Rowena—“was seen outside my chamber during that time. ’Twas Melisant who saw her.”

Rowena grinned at Warrick. “Did I tell you, my lord,” she asked casually, “what time I escaped yesterday?”

“Escaped?!” Beatrix exclaimed. “Do you mean to say you were not hiding in the castle since yestereve?”

“Nay, my lady. I could not trust a mere hiding place for what
you
had planned for me.”

Hot color stole into Beatrix’s cheeks before her eyes glittered with malice. “You admit you ran away? Do you know what the punishment is for a runaway serf?”

“Aye, Lady Beatrix. I have my own lands, my own serfs, and attended my father’s court quite often ere he died. I should know—”

“Liar!” Beatrix hissed. “Are you going to stand there and let her lie like that, Father?”

“I doubt she lies,” he replied. “’Twas I who made her a serf, not her birth. But we digress. What time did you leave here, Rowena?”

“’Twas noontide.”

“Again she lies!” Beatrix fairly shrieked this time. “How can you listen—?”

“Not another word, Beatrix,” Warrick warned, his tone pure ice.

“The time of my leaving
can
be verified, my lord,” Rowena offered. “Mistress Blouet will tell you that she looked for me, but could not find me the entire afternoon. And the guard at your postern gate can tell you exactly what time Mildred engaged him in conversation so I could slip past him unnoticed. ’Tis my hope you will not reprimand him for his carelessness, for had he been more diligent, you would have found me not at your gates, but in your dungeon—at least, you would have found what was left of me,” she ended, giving Beatrix a look of undisguised contempt.

“What say you, Beatrix?” Warrick asked.

“She lies,” Beatrix said disdainfully. “Bring in those she claims will support her lies. Let them say so to my face.”

“So you think to intimidate them into silence?” he replied, the smile on his lips that Rowena hated. “I think not. But answer me this. If she
stole your pearls, why did she not take them with her when she escaped?”

“How should I know how a whore thinks?”

That remark brought his blackest scowl into place. Beatrix stared back at him stonily, too angry to be afraid. But when that scowl came to bear on Melisant, his youngest daughter promptly burst into tears.

“She made me say it!” Melisant wailed frantically. “I did not want to, but she slapped me and said that she would say
I
stole her necklace if I did not say your leman did it! I am sorry, Father! I did not want to hurt her, but Beatrix was so angry with you—”

“Aye, with me,” Warrick growled low. “All this for
my
benefit. Well, what you have earned, Beatrix, is for
your
benefit, and long overdue.”