“Aye.”
“Do you swear this to me?”
“I do.”
Cullen stared at her, intensely, hoping that if she was lying for whatever reason that his stare would draw the truth out of her. She was well aware of what was as stake and, perhaps, thought to lessen the impact by diminishing the facts. But she held her ground, staring back at him steadily. After a moment, he released her shoulders and turned to the king.
John was cowering against the wall, his dark eyes hard and cold. It was a struggle for Cullen not to charge him.
“For the fact that you did not take her in the most intimate sense, your life is spared,” he rumbled. “Any man who would touch the countess, king or pauper, will suffer my wrath on this or any other matter. Is that understood, Highness?”
John’s steely demeanor made a quick return. Carefully, he collected his robe where he had thrown it, draping it over his shoulders. “You realize, of course, that your life is forfeit, de Nerra,” he said quietly. “No man levels a threat against the king and lives. Moreover, for murdering the Lord Justice, you must pay the price.”
“Barric had a weapon drawn against me. Had I not gored him, most certainly he would have gored me.” With one hand, Cullen untied the strips holding Teodora’s wrists. “I killed him in self-defense. You and the countess are witnesses to the fact.”
“You killed him in a cold-blooded rage,” John screamed. “You’ll lose your head come the morrow, de Nerra. This I promise.”
Freed, Teodora leapt from the bed, pulling her skirts down and moving to stand behind Cullen as if he were some sort of human shield between her and the king. But she had heard the words of John and looked at Cullen with such terror that he could feel the physical impact.
“Beheaded?” she whispered. “Cullen, you cannot…”
Cullen shushed her harshly. His focus was still on the king. Calmly, John collected himself and moved to the door of the chamber with such sedate behavior it seemed he was leaving a dinner party. He glanced at Barric, twitching and bleeding on the floor.
“I shall send my physic for the Lord Justice,” he said, looking at Cullen with the eyes of the devil. “As for you, Sir Cullen, I would suggest you return to the earl’s apartments to await your arrest. It shan’t be long in coming.”
He was gone, the rush of cold evil air following in his wake. Teodora turned to Cullen, feeling more terror than she had ever known.
“You cannot stay,” she grabbed him by the arms insistently. “You’ve got to leave this place and never return!”
Cullen tried to dislodge her vise-like grip. “Calm yourself. There is always another way.”
“Nay!” she nearly shouted at him. “You must leave, do you hear? I…”
Godfrey was suddenly in the doorway, his pale face slack with shock. He stared at Barric, and, finally, at Cullen.
“Christ, man,” he hissed. “What have you done?”
Cullen looked at him as if he had no idea what he was talking about. “Done? I’ve done nothing but defend the countess.”
Godfrey appeared sick. “But you’ve… you’ve killed Fitz Hammond, Cullen. Don’t you realize what that means?”
“Of course I do.”
Godfrey stared at him a moment before shaking his head as if absolutely devastated by the entire circumstance. “Christ, I knew this would…” He shook himself, trying to gain what was left of his senses. “I just saw the king down the hall. He is ordering his household guard to arrest you.”
Cullen nodded calmly. Teodora was growing increasingly hysterical. “He must leave, Sir Godfrey. The king is planning to behead him on the morrow for the murder of the Lord Justice!”
Godfrey nearly choked. “Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he swore softly. “She’s absolutely right, Cullen. You must leave immediately.”
They were jumping at him from all sides. Cullen held up his hands to silence them. “I cannot simply walk away from everything I have attained in life, everything I have yet to accomplish. The king may be a conniving snake, but he is not unreasonable. If I can talk to him, perhaps I can…”
Hamilton burst into the room, his round face flushed and damp. “Cullen!” he rasped. “The household guard is coming for you. John is assembling an armed escort at the end of the corridor and it will not be long before they arrive. What in the hell has happened that they would come to arrest you?”
Teodora’s tone turned from sweet to vicious in a split second. “You know exactly what happened, Sir Hamilton,” she snarled. “You brought me to this room where the king and the Lord Justice were waiting for me. Sir Cullen had no choice but to protect me from them, resulting in the Lord Justice’s death. If there is anyone to blame in this, it is you!”
Hamilton was taken aback. “My lady,” he stammered. “I…”
Cullen was very interested in Teodora’s words. “You brought her here, Banbury?”
Hamilton shook his head imploringly. “I did not know, Cullen, I swear it. I merely brought her here to change her gown and…”
“Lies!” Teodora boomed. “You brought me here to sate the king’s lust!”
The intrigue was growing. Cullen’s gaze passed between the two knights, each man apparently willing to point the finger at the other. “Godfrey,” he said slowly. “Your wife said that the king had taken the countess but made no mention of the details. You sat beside her and listened to every word. Why did you not mention that it was Banbury who escorted her here?”
Godfrey shrugged his shoulders. “You were gone so fast that there was no time, Cullen,” he said lamely. Realizing that Cullen did not believe his weak excuse, he made haste to change the subject. “There’s no more time to discuss this. If you don’t leave now, then you are as good as dead. Is that what you want?”
Cullen was perplexed by the apparently lack of truth from his knights. There was something going on, something he could not put his finger on, but he had little doubt that it involved traitorous intentions by Godfrey or Hamilton, or both. These men were sworn to the earl yet their loyalty was apparently wavering and, in truth, he was not surprised. John’s money and promises could buy such devotion, and both knights spent a good deal of time in London and in close proximity to the king. Still, he had hoped their collective friendship over the years would have superseded the temptation of wealth and power.
But he could not waste his thoughts on that at the moment, nor allow his disappointment to cloud his judgement. Before he could open his mouth to further the argument, Teodora took charge and waved Sir Godfrey and Sir Hamilton away.
“I will speak to Sir Cullen alone,” she said firmly. “Go now and defend him from the king’s guard. He requires your warring skills at this moment and not your inane drivel. Get out!”
Hamilton and Godfrey looked torn, confused. Cullen’s emotionless expression offered them no support and they left when she, once again, shouted at them to leave. When they were gone and the room silent, Teodora turned to Cullen with moist eyes.
“Please, my love, please,” she murmured. “Please go and save your life.”
He shook his head. “I cannot.” His voice was equally soft. “I must stay to defend…”
“You cannot defend me if you are dead,” she exclaimed softly. Her hands raked through his hair and she kissed his face, softly. She could hardly believe the trouble they were in. “I love your devotion, your chivalry. I love that you burst into this room prepared to kill any man who touched me. I love your qualities and character so much that the knowledge that I have compromised you is killing me. Do you know what will happen if you are killed on the morrow? If the earl doesn’t do away with me for causing the execution of his champion, I will most surely do away with myself. How can I live knowing that I have killed you?”
Cullen listened to the passion in her words and felt himself relenting. No woman, no matter how beautiful or intelligent, had ever managed to convince him otherwise if he thought he knew better. But Teodora was different. He could literally f
eel the love in her voice, reaching out to comfort and caress him like nothing he had ever experienced. She spoke out of loyalty and devotion, and it deeply touched him. Moreover, she was correct; he wouldn’t be any good to her dead. The only way to keep himself alive, for the both of them, would be to flee until he could figure a way out of this situation. His sense of honor and duty had brought about this circumstance, and it would take the same to clear his name.
“If I go, you come with me,” he put his arms around her, pulling her close. “I cannot leave you alone in this hive of jackals.”
Teodora held him tightly, inhaling his musk, never feeling more fulfilled or more frightened in her life. “But I am the earl’s wife,” she murmured. “You would compound the problem by kidnapping your mistress.”
He laughed softly, bitterly. “Do you recall the promise I made to you?”
“Which one?”
“That if I could think of a simple way for us to be together, I would.”
“Aye, I remember.”
He pulled back, looking her in the eye. “This is the simplest solution I could come up with.”
She cast him a disbelieving look. “This is your simple solution? Fleeing Westminster with murder and abduction hanging over your head?”
He shrugged. “I never said I was a brilliant man, merely an opportunist. And I find this is the perfect opportunity.”
The sounds of fighting suddenly filled the air and Cullen could hear Sir Godfrey shouting his name. Knowing the time for escape had come, he grabbed Teodora by the wrist and pulled her to the window. Two stories below lay a shallow lily pond, a small garden, the perimeter wall and eventual freedom. He jumped onto the windowsill.
“I shall go first,” he said. “I shall catch you.”
Teodora shook her head reluctantly. “You can’t catch me. I am too big.”
“Nonsense.” He could see the discomfort on her face and leaned forward, kissing her sweetly. “Just close your eyes and jump into my arms, love. I promise I shall catch you.”
She pursed her lips, unnerved by the sounds of the soldiers coming for Cullen but further unnerved by the thought of leaping two stories. “Semper fidelis?”
He grinned. “Only to you. In all things.”
“Even catching me from a two-story window?”
He shook his head. “Varium et mutabile semper femina.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “How dare you. I am not a fickle or changeable woman.”
“You have always believed me in the past. Why not now? Have I ever broken my promise to you?”
She softened, listening to the fighting grow very near. “Never,” she whispered. “Jump. And don’t hurt yourself. How can you catch me if you break your leg?”
He frowned. “Typical woman. Only concerned with herself.”
“Jump before I push you.”
He was suddenly gone. Teodora hung her head from the window, watching him pick himself up off the ground and then gesture for her to follow. Leaping into the window, she said a silent prayer for courage. Behind her, the sounds of fighting closed in and one foot left the ledge. She could feel herself falling forward, out into the dark night with Cullen below to catch her.
But the slow, lethargic sensation of falling was abruptly cut short. Instead of falling into Cullen’s strong arms, harsh hands pulled her back from the window and she found herself cradled by the cold, unfeeling floor. Gazing up into armored, angry faces, she knew at that moment that she was in terrible, mortal, trouble.
Cullen had to know the opportunity for her to escape was gone, but for him there was still a chance. Still a chance that they would be together someday if he were to flee at this moment and never look back.
Not even for her.
She screamed at the top of her lungs, for Cullen’s ears only. “Run!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Why should it matter to me if she is in the vault or not?” Preston’s voice was cold. “’This woman has done nothing but wreak havoc since the very day we married and I hold no argument against the king for placing her where she belongs.”
Godfrey and Hamilton stood silent as Preston paced the corridor just outside of the main hall where the king’s grand feast was carrying on into the night. There was great merriment going on, but the mood among the three men was anything but joyful. Preston was greatly disturbed. More than that, he was deeply hurt, as much as a man with his dulled sensitivities could be.
“But Cullen…” Preston shook his head as he continued. Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his thick salt-and-pepper hair, being careful to avoid his broken nose. “He is only to protect the countess within limits. To gore the Lord Justice was unnecessary at best. Now he has left me purely defenseless against the king and his evil. Damn him for his rash actions. Since when is the man rash?”
Godfrey and Hamilton glanced at each other without answering the question. In truth, they had no answer, but Preston did. He started to shout as he answered his own question.
“Since he met that whore, that trollop, that demon called my wife,” he seethed. “Since the very moment he laid eyes on her, he has not been himself. He’s been far more loyal to her than to me. Damn him!”
Godfrey cleared his throat softly. “My lord, Sir Cullen’s loyalties have always lain with you foremost. Why do you think he rushed to save the countess as he did? To protect your family and your good name. Surely he was only thinking of you.”
“Surely not!” Preston slammed his fists against a small oak table. The table staggered and tipped over, almost crashing on Hamilton’s foot. “The whore has bewitched him somehow. Cullen would not have gored Rockingham had the man not laid his hands on her in some fashion. My good family name had absolutely nothing to do with de Nerra’s actions!”
Godfrey and Hamilton backed off as Preston grew more agitated. Soon, things would begin to fly and they would be forced to leave the room for fear of their safety. Abruptly, Preston threw himself onto a cushioned chair, fuming. He clutched the sides of the chair, digging his fingers into the material until it began to shred.
“Damn Cullen,” he growled. “Damn him to hell. He has not only shown extreme disloyalty to me, but he has placed himself in grave jeopardy. What kind of fool has he become?”
“No fool at all, my lord,” Godfrey replied quietly. “He was simply protecting your wife.”
Preston cast him a loathsome glance. “As you protect him,” he snarled. Godfrey turned red and Preston continued. “And since you protect him so well, do you perhaps know where he has fled?”
The knight shook his head. “I do not, my lord. He leapt from the window of John’s solar and has not been seen since.”
Preston closed his eyes as if the mental image of Cullen de Nerra fleeing the scene of a crime was too much for him to bear. “Christ,” he muttered. “How could this happen to me? De Nerra was the epitome of knightly loyalty and devotion and now…” He shook his head, too distraught to continue. “God have mercy, then. If John decides to execute the countess, he has my blessing. She will pay for turning de Nerra against me.”
“You will not plead for her, my lord?”
“Nay,” Preston said with contempt. He thought briefly of the scheme he and Cullen had plotted, back in the days before his marriage to Teodora. Use her to your advantage, Cullen had said. They’d had so many great plans to use her against her father, but now that his champion was loyal to the enemy wife, those plans were for naught. Everything they’d planned for was gone. “I will not plead for her. If the king wishes it, she will die. She deserves to die for what she has done to me.”
“But what if Cullen returns?” Hamilton’s question was soft.
“To save the woman he loves?” Preston thought a moment. “’Twould serve justice if I turned him over to the king and both he and the whore were executed side by side. But considering the years of loyalty Cullen has given me, I suppose I owe him some in return. Even if he has abandoned me, I shall not abandon him. I shall send him back to
Quellargate, far away from London and far away from a king who would kill him. But, then again… there is also a chance that he’ll not do as I command if I permit his whore to be executed. He’ll turn on me.”
There was a hint of indecision in Prestons’ voice now, a hesitation that hadn’t been there before. Hamilton latched on to it. “So you will plead for her, then?”
Preston sighed heavily. The more he thought on what would happen if Cullen returned and realized the countess had been killed, with Preston’s blessing, the more he realized that the situation might not go well for him. All he wanted was for everything to be back to normal, but normal was relative. The new normal was Cullen and the countess.
He frowned.
“If I do not, then I suspect that Cullen will no longer be the knight I need him to be,” he said. “I can feel it. He’ll try to kill me and I need the man’s protection, not his vengeance.”
Hamilton and Godfrey exchanged glances. “Then mayhap you should send word to John on behalf of your wife,” he said. “Plead for her, ask him to spare her. Tell him… tell him that Cullen bewitched her. Whatever you tell him, you must also consider that if you allow the king to execute her with your blessing, it will shame the House of de Lacy. What man would willingly permit his wife to be executed?”
He had a point and Preston knew it. All of his rage and determination not to prevent Teodora’s execution was quelled with those few simple words. With Cullen’s behavior, he already had enough shame. He didn’t want to heap any further shame upon the de Lacy name.
With that, he abruptly changed his mind.
“Go to the king,” he said reluctantly. “You will take my message for me. Beg for my wife’s life. Tell him… tell him I will be indebted to him for his mercy. Do what you must, but see that she is spared.”
Without further prompting, Hamilton and Godfrey were on the move. Leaving Preston to his angst, they continued down the darkened corridor, silent but for the boot falls echoing against the stone. Their figures faded in and out of the light of the intermittent torches as they marched down the hall, deeper into the bowels of Westminster. When they were far enough away from Preston, Hamilton spoke softly.
Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 16