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Set title Page 99

by O’Donnell, Laurel


  “Michael?”

  “No, Fox!” Evan exploded.

  Jordan stepped away from him, away from his fierce anger as her own disgusted outrage grew. “This has nothing to do with Fox, Evan! This has to do with you.”

  “With me?” Evan gritted his teeth. “Michael is mad, Jordan! He parades around in his monk’s robes and mutters to himself all day. He’s as much of a lunatic as his father! Why are you even listening to him? Why do you even care what he says? He’s full of lies!” Evan stepped closer to her. “All of the Mercers are full of lies! Don’t you see that?”

  Jordan shook her head, harshly denying his defamatory slurs. “No, you are wrong, Evan. They are not. Frederick Mercer lost everything because of me! And now I am hearing that all of their misery, all of my misery, is because of something you did!”

  Evan glared at her, fuming in silence. Jordan could see the tension in his stiff shoulders, in the clenching of his jaw. “You disappoint me, Jordan.” With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.

  She stared at the closed door for a moment. She forced herself to stay calm. Disappoint him? She couldn’t believe he felt disappointed in her when all she wanted was the truth. Then she suddenly remembered. Fox! She ran to the curtain and yanked it open, nearly pulling the fabric down in her hurry.

  Fox was gone.

  Jordan leaned out the alcove window and saw a rope hanging down the wall.

  She pulled back into the room and sat in the seat near the window with a heavy sigh. Fox wanted to kill her, when just days before he wanted to hold her and love her. How had this happened? And how could she ever convince him she never intended to kill the baron? How could he ever believe her? Yet, as she thought back on that day, she knew there could have been no other outcome, no other way to stop the baron.

  She played absently with her necklace and her thoughts drifted back to Evan. If Michael’s words were true, why would Evan bring Michael to the baron? And why did the baron die with a pouch full of gold with Evan’s crest on it? Was it some kind of payment?

  No. No. Evan wasn’t that kind of person. She had known him all her life. He would never do something so... so horrible. Was the baron a thief? Had he stolen it from Evan?

  Jordan shook her head. The baron was wealthy. No, beyond wealthy. He had no need to steal. Perhaps Evan was under payment to the baron for some service. Yes, that must have been it. She wouldn’t let herself believe Evan had been paid to bring Michael to the baron. The thought was just too horrible.

  And yet Michael’s accusing words still echoed in her ears. They had the power of truth in them. And so did his eyes.

  Jordan shook her head. No, I can’t believe it. I can’t.

  She looked again at the rope hanging out the window. Her heart broke. And what of Fox? What could she do to convince him she never meant to hurt him or his family, that she had killed the baron to defend Michael?

  Then a thought struck her. Her letters, the ones she had asked Evan to deliver all those years ago. Evan had given them back to her, along with Fox’s supposed words of refusal. The letters told everything.

  Suddenly, Jordan knew exactly what she had to do. Fox had to see those letters from long ago. He had to read them. Only then would he realize she was telling the truth. He would know exactly what happened.

  Unfortunately, the letters were at Castle Ruvane, tucked neatly in the bottom of the trunk at the foot of her bed. Somehow, some way, she had to get those letters to Fox. But how? Evan would never allow her to leave Castle Vaughn, much less travel to Castle Mercer.

  Jordan sat back on the bench, her shoulders slumping. She could never get those letters to Fox. They had just gotten to Castle Vaughn and now she wanted to leave again. Evan would never allow it. It would take a miracle to get away from Evan.

  And then a thought struck her. Maybe not a miracle, just a lie.

  Jordan left the castle just before sunrise. Weary, excited, and desperate, she rode hard down the roads. She’d had the stable boy saddle a horse while she waited, and the castle guards had not stopped her as she rode beneath the outer gatehouse. She was not a prisoner... yet.

  By midday, she had just turned down the road and could see the children’s house. It took Jordan half the day to ride to the children. When she dismounted, she heard the gleeful shouts of the children playing down by the stream, perhaps getting water for the garden or taking a break from their chores.

  Jordan dismounted and headed for the house. It was not the children she had come to see. She flung the door open to see Abagail following a naked Emily around the table. “Come here, child,” she called.

  The toddler paid her no mind, dashing beneath the table and laughing.

  Jordan watched as Abagail bent slowly to retrieve the girl, but Emily scooted away from Abagail, a huge smile lighting her face. Abagail finally sat on a chair, exhausted. Her usually tight bun was a mass of frantic strands, and her face was red from exertion.

  Jordan’s hopes sank. How could she ask Abagail to ride to Castle Ruvane and get the letters and then take them to Castle Mercer? The ride alone would wear her out.

  Jordan bent forward and ducked her head, smiling at Emily. The little girl cried out with joy and rushed into Jordan’s outstretched arms. Jordan straightened.

  Abagail was on her feet. “M’lady! I didn’t see you come in.”

  “They’re a handful today, aren’t they?” Jordan asked kindly, if a bit sadly.

  Abagail’s shoulders slumped and she nodded.

  “I’ll dress Emily,” she said. “Why don’t you rest?” Jordan took the clothes from the table and addressed Emily. “And you...” She tickled the girl’s stomach and the child churned with laughter, twisting in Jordan’s arms. “Let’s get some clothes on this naked bottom.”

  Jordan left the house and went to sit on the grass. Emily squirmed as Jordan slid the dress over her head. She finished dressing the wiggling toddler and then sat back, letting the child run after a butterfly flitting from flower to flower.

  What was she to do now? All her hopes... There had to be another way, another person. She shook her head and glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Castle Ruvane. She could get the letters. But Evan would send men for her soon, and when he didn’t find her at the house, what would she tell him?

  That she loved Fox and would do anything to get him to understand why she killed the baron, why she destroyed his life?

  And then Evan would lock her in the dungeon as a traitor.

  “John!” Emily cried.

  Jordan shifted her gaze to see the older boy carrying two buckets of water toward the house. He smiled at Emily as she ran over to him, carefully lifting the bucket away from her so she wouldn’t get wet.

  Jordan smiled. John was certainly getting big. He took such good care of Emily and helped Abagail quite a bit.

  Slowly, revelation ran through Jordan. John. The solution to her problems was standing right in front of her. She shot to her feet. “John!” she called.

  John turned to her. He put the buckets down as a large grin lit his face. As Emily dived for the water-filled buckets, John scooped her up from behind. He sauntered over to Jordan. “Hello, m’lady,” he greeted.

  “John,” Jordan said, placing a hand on his shoulder. She studied John’s face for a long moment. “Would you do me a great favor?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jordan paced nervously before the house. John had not returned, and darkness was settling across the land. The glow of red from the setting sun coated the lands and gave her an uneasy feeling.

  She lifted her gaze to the road again. Where was John? Had some brigands set upon him? She cursed herself for sending the boy. She should have gone herself.

  Suddenly, hoof beats echoed down the road. Anxiously, Jordan stepped forward.

  A lone rider came toward the house, moving quickly. It wasn’t until he was almost at the house that Jordan could see John’s face. Relief filled her in a heady sigh. She moved forward to
meet him.

  He was brandishing a stack of papers victoriously in one hand. “I found them!” he called out to her, handing them to her.

  Jordan looked down at the stack of letters, bound by a pink ribbon. She clutched the papers to her heart. Now Fox would know the truth. Now he would understand! “Good job, John!”

  Suddenly, the ground shook and the thunder of multiple horses sounded. Jordan looked down the road. A group of soldiers rode hard toward the house. Jordan waved John behind her with a quick flick of her hand.

  John dismounted and stepped behind her, staying close.

  Who were these men? Robbers? As they drew closer, she suddenly recognized the leader, and absolute dread filled her. Evan.

  Jordan quickly, desperately, hid the letters behind her back. Her hand tightened convulsively around the stack of papers.

  The door opened behind her, and the children and Abagail emerged from the house.

  Jordan wanted to wave them into the house for protection, but she dared not move for fear of drawing Evan’s gaze to the papers.

  Evan dismounted before her, rushing to her and embracing her. “Thank God you’re safe.”

  Jordan stood stiffly in his arms, sure he had seen the papers.

  Evan’s gaze scanned the group who stood mere feet from her. Then his gaze dropped to her. “What in heaven’s name do you mean riding out like that?”

  Jordan swallowed hard.

  “Without a word to anyone! I thought that rogue, the Black Fox, had captured you again!”

  Jordan chewed on her lower lip, her hand tightening protectively around the papers.

  “Well?” Evan demanded.

  Abagail stepped up to Evan. “Emily was sick this morn. I sent word to m’lady.”

  Evan’s gaze narrowed as it speared through Abagail.

  “That’s right,” John agreed. “Lady Jordan is the only one who can calm Emily when she is sick.”

  Suddenly, Jordan felt a tug from behind her. Someone was attempting to remove the letters from her hand! For a moment, she wouldn’t release them until she realized it was Abagail.

  Jordan relinquished the letters and stepped forward, drawing Evan’s gaze. She took his arm and led him away from the group, giving Abagail time to hide the letters. “I’m sorry, Evan. But you know how impulsive I am with the children.”

  “God’s blood, Jordan!” Evan exclaimed. “Do you realize how worried I was about you?”

  “I said I was sorry,” she replied absently, looking over her shoulder to see Abagail turning away from the group of soldiers.

  “This will not happen again. You will return with me to Castle Vaughn at once,” Evan told her.

  Jordan bridled at the way he commanded her about.

  “It’s for your own safety, Jordan,” Evan said.

  Jordan didn’t like the way he said that, but she knew better than to argue with him when he was so enraged with her. She nodded her head. At least the letters were safe.

  Fox rested in a warm valley of grass for the night. He knew he needed to concentrate on a plan. His friends were under heavy guard; he was able to discover that much in his quick foray into Castle Vaughn. He needed to figure out how to get them out, how to get them weapons. He tried to recall the layout of the castle, the hidden passageways he and Jordan and Evan had played in when they were children. Maybe somehow he could use those.

  But strangely, the only image he could conjure up was of Jordan standing so righteously before him, waiting for him to kill her. He had wanted to. But his hand would not move, traitorous limb that it was. Only his heart answered her, and its response had nothing to do with death or murder.

  Fox forced his mind elsewhere. What will Vaughn do to my men now that he has Jordan back? Fox gritted his teeth. Let them rot in the dungeon? Trade them for my life? Kill them?

  Fox stared at the twinkling lights above him. In the sky, two stars glistened like eyes the color of a flame’s heart. Eyes that still trusted him.

  Fox growled and rolled over onto his side. Sleep was going to be very elusive this night. What right did she have to trust him? After all these years, she did not know him.

  He thought again, as he had a hundred times already, about what Jordan had told him. He still couldn’t bring himself to believe what she had said. Jordan had killed the baron? She had confessed her crime to him. Jordan. Innocent Jordan. Why would she have committed such an act? She had been barely out of childhood. Why would she have murdered that fat old fool the baron?

  Michael. She had said something about Michael. But he couldn’t remember much more. What did his little brother have to do with the baron? Nothing was making sense.

  Why hadn’t his father told him the truth? That was the greatest question of all. But then Fox had a strong feeling he already knew the answer. His honor dictated his silence. Honor was something his father practiced with every living breath. If he had made a promise or a vow to Jordan, then Fox knew his father would take it to his grave.

  It was almost midnight when they reached Castle Vaughn, as Evan insisted on riding through the night. Exhausted, Jordan made her way up to her room, but before she had taken two steps up the spiral stairway, Evan seized her arm, halting her.

  “I was very worried for you, Jordan,” Evan said quietly. “It was not very responsible of you to leave without telling anyone where you were going.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jordan repeated for the hundredth time. “It’s just that I’ve never had to tell people I was going to see the children before. And with Emily sick... I just didn’t think.”

  “You should start,” Evan said.

  Something in his tone made Jordan pull back slightly, startled.

  “For your own safety, you will tell me where you will be from this moment on,” Evan added.

  Jordan’s mouth fell open, and she yanked her arm away from Evan so fiercely that she almost slammed it into the wall.

  “Your father has entrusted me with your safety, a task I take very seriously. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my betrothed.”

  Apprehension filled Jordan and she turned away from Evan, moving up the stairs quickly. Betrothed. The word suddenly sent tremors of misgivings through her. She hurried to her room and shut the door behind her, holding it tightly closed as if that would block Evan from marrying her, as if that would seal him out of her life.

  But sooner or later she knew she would have to confront him and tell him she had no intention of marrying him.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Jordan moved through the hallways of Castle Vaughn, her thoughts centered on how she was going to get the letters to Fox. They were safe with Abagail, true, but that was nowhere near Castle Mercer.

  Castle Mercer now seemed a very long way from here. A servant told her about Evan’s raid on Castle Mercer. Evan had gone there in the hopes of finally capturing the Black Fox, but Fox had been safe with her. In her arms. However, Evan had succeeded in capturing Fox’s entire band of followers, and now they were imprisoned in the Vaughn dungeon.

  Jordan moved past the large doors leading into the Great Hall, lost in thought, trying to figure out some way to get word to John to take the letters to Castle Mercer. She could write John a letter, but she didn’t trust any of the guards to bring it to the boy. And besides, John didn’t read.

  The sound of several men laughing heartily caused her to pause. She quickly recognized one of the voices as belonging to Evan. She paused for a moment, steeling her nerves. Should she tell him now she would not marry him? Or should she wait for her father’s return?

  Evan chortled low in his throat. Something sinister in his laughter sent chills along Jordan’s spine. She hugged the corridor shadows, moving closer to the open doorway, careful to avoid being seen.

  “Which one are you choosing first?” she heard another man ask.

  “That blond one,” Evan replied. “His neck looks like it’ll snap pretty easily.”

  More dark laughter from the others made Jordan cringe.
Beau. He was the blond one, Jordan remembered. But what did they mean about his neck snapping?

  “Then who?”

  “I think that woman next. She might dangle on the end of the rope for a while and give us a good show.”

  The cruelty in Evan’s statement made Jordan’s blood run cold. He said it so calmly, so matter-of-factly. But for some reason she did not feel as shocked as she thought she ought to. Was she finally seeing Evan for what he really was?

  “So we begin tonight?” a third man asked.

  “Yes,” Evan responded. “Tonight at midnight. The Black Fox will arrive just in time to see us throw the first corpse into the moat.” Evan laughed a cold, evil laugh.

  “What will you do if he gives himself up?”

  “That’s quite simple,” Evan replied. “We will kill them all. And that will be a fitting end to the Black Fox and his band of thieves. Either way, I will be rid of Fox Mercer and his outlaws forever.”

  Jordan felt her blood run even colder. Evan was going to hang them all, starting tonight! She quickly moved down the hallway away from the Great Hall. She had to stop him.

  “I’ll take that,” Jordan said to the servant girl.

  The girl lifted surprised brown eyes to look at Jordan. “But, m’lady, it’s me job to bring the guards their food.”

  Jordan ignored the girl’s comment and took the tray of food and the flask from the young woman. “I haven’t seen those fine men in quite some time. I would like to say hello.”

  The servant girl looked at Jordan with curious eyes for a moment.

  “That will be all.”

  The servant girl quickly curtsied. “As you wish, m’lady.” Then she hurried away.

  Jordan waited a moment until the girl disappeared around the hallway corner before moving down the murky stairs toward the dungeon. She made it halfway down the cracked stone steps before pausing near a fluttering torch hanging on the wall. She set the tray down and reached into the pocket of her dress, pulling out several dried herbs. She had gone to the herbalist after concocting a plan to free Fox’s men from the dungeon, and had complained of sleeplessness to the old woman. The herbalist had given her some crinkled old leaves and told her to mix them with an ale, and after but one drink she would be asleep faster than the king collected taxes.

 

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