Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle

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Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 17

by Kathryn Le Veque


  “So now we must plead for the countess’ life,” he muttered. “I wonder if the king will even listen to us.”

  Godfrey’s eyes were darting about nervously; he tended to be jittery in a crisis. “That remains to be seen.”

  Hamilton paused before answering. “Did Preston ever ask you how his wife was brought to the king’s quarters?”

  “He never asked. I never told him,” Godfrey replied.

  “But you knew I took her there.”

  “I saw you and Barric exchange glances. I could only surmise the situation.”

  “I see. Then it was you who told Cullen her whereabouts?”

  “It was my wife. Victoria has a loose tongue.”

  “You’ve never shown any particular loyalty to Preston beyond the required measure. Does this disloyalty include his wife as well?”

  “I have no particular loyalty to men who force me to procure them men for sexual favors. As for the countess, I have no inclination one way or the other.”

  “Have you considered the king’s offer, then?”

  “I have.”

  When no answer was forthcoming, Hamilton looked at him. “And?”

  Godfrey came to a halt at the crossroads of two main corridors, the illumination from a large iron chandelier overhead caressing his face. He and Hamilton gazed at one another, carefully.

  “And I have agreed,” Godfrey said. “But I want more than what he has offered you, Ham. To spy for him against de Nerra, my price is high. You know what I want.”

  Hamilton nodded faintly. “I do,” he said. “And take heart; so does John.”

  “He knows I am Preston’s bastard half-brother?”

  “I told him. I thought you would want him to know. That’s what makes your loyalty to the king so important – he will ensure that you get what you deserve.”

  It was a surprising turn of subject, of a secret that ran deep. Godfrey had been born of a servant woman, impregnated by Preston’s father shortly before his death, but the man had known of the pregnancy and had made arrangements for his bastard.

  To hide the child away.

  Even after he was gone, Godfrey went to foster in a house as a young child, assuming the name of his master. Sudeley. That had been part of Hugh de Lacy’s plan, paying the Sudeley family to assume the child so no one would know of his true parentage. The man already had two sons and he didn’t want three, dividing up his riches and earldom.

  Even so, Godfrey knew the truth. He’d been told from an early age by a vindictive mother who his father was and while he was with the house of Sudeley, he was made to feel inferior, as if he were no better than dirt. But even back then, Godfrey had plans, plans that would see him serve his half-brother and eventually wrest the earldom away from him. It had taken some work to come into Preston’s service, and he’d had to endure degradation at the hands of his perverted half-sibling as he procured and groomed a revolving stable of young men for the earl’s sexual pleasure. But he knew, in the end, he would receive his reward.

  It was a greed driven by hatred.

  “My time will come,” Godfrey said after a moment. “I have planned for it and worked for it. But all that aside, I am sorry to see Cullen go. I had hoped the man would serve me when Preston is gone. He is most capable.”

  Hamilton’s hard expression eased somewhat. “I know,” he replied quietly. “But if you want to assume the earldom, we must keep Cullen away at all costs.”

  Godfrey cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

  Hamilton sighed. “If he returns, he will undoubtedly question our loyalties. He suspects my true allegiance, and yours will be questioned as well. And if we are dismissed from de Lacy’s service, your fight to gain the earldom will be over. The king will be terribly displeased. Truly, we cannot allow this to happen.”

  Godfrey’s pallor was gray. “But Cullen will return for the countess. He’s in love with her, according to de Lacy.”

  Hamilton shook his head. “Something I still find extremely difficult to comprehend. But I heard that it was obvious the very day she married de Lacy, and it was quite obvious the day she arrived at Rodstone House. Remember when she sent for him and he left the training field as if God himself had summoned him? Racing across the grounds like a dog after a bitch in heat, plowing through anything in his path in his haste to reach her. A truly amazing occurrence, considering the Cullen de Nerra I know has no use for women other than physical needs.”

  “He has use for this woman,” Godfrey said quietly.

  Hamilton nodded. “That much is obvious. And I would wager that he’ll do everything within his power to rescue her, meaning that, at some point, he will return. We cannot chance that he and Preston will reconcile.”

  “Then how do we keep him away?”

  “I have an idea, but you must be brave enough to follow through with it.”

  Godfrey thought a moment. Was he brave? He thought so. He was brave enough to fight for the earldom he wanted. He had proven himself a dedicated knight, after all, but there had been a reason behind it. He’d accomplished Preston’s dirty work, something less than noble for a knight, but he’d had little choice. He couldn’t leave and he couldn’t protest; he had to be a good soldier.

  He had to remain with Preston if he wanted the man’s earldom.

  In truth, Godfrey had been weak-willed and complacent, and the greed for the earldom would not let him resist his liege’s reprehensible commands, as morally questionable as they were.

  Cullen, of course, had known about the situation, but he’d looked the other way. He’d never intervened, not even when Godfrey had brought young males, two and three at a time, into Preston’s bower. He’d never intervened in anything because he was Preston’s bodyguard, his protector and defender, and not his keeper. It wasn’t his place to question Preston’s lust for his same sex but, somehow, Godfrey had always hoped that Cullen would say something that would make the earl question his behavior.

  He kept silent on a matter that, in truth, really didn’t concern him.

  Godfrey really didn’t know how it was when Preston was away from Rodstone House but, knowing the man, he was sure his lust for young men wasn’t limited to London. But all of that was of little matter now because Godfrey was closer to getting what he wanted than he’d ever been in his life – the Barklestone earldom. But keeping Cullen de Nerra away was the key because Preston had to die.

  There could be no interference from the champion.

  “What is your plan, Ham?” he finally asked, his heart pounding at the thought of his own subversion and treachery.

  Hamilton thought a moment, presenting the picture of a man truly torn between friendship and loyalties when the truth was that he wasn’t. “We both agree that the countess is the root of this problem, do we not?”

  “Of course,” Godfrey nodded.

  Hamilton bobbed his head firmly. “Good. And we both agree that Cullen will return to rescue her.”

  “Aye.”

  Hamilton paused. “Then we must find him before he returns for her,” he said. “He left her behind, after all. He left her to the mercy of the king.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He would have nothing to return for if the countess was no more.”

  “What are you saying?” Godfrey hissed, aghast. “Do you intend to kill her?”

  Hamilton shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “We do not have to, for she is in enough trouble. But if Cullen believes that she is dead, he will have nothing to return for and our treachery against de Lacy will never be known.”

  “But he already suspects. You heard the countess tell him.”

  “It was in the heat of the moment,” Hamilton said. “We have known Cullen far longer than she has, and he has trusted us with his life. We must impress upon him that trust so he will not only believe that we did not obey the king’s wishes by bringing the lady to him, but also that she was killed when he left her behind. As far as Cullen is concerned, we would have no reason to lie t
o him… would we?”

  Godfrey wasn’t sure about any of this, but he shook his head nonetheless. “Nay,” he said reluctantly. “But what will we tell him?”

  Hamilton lifted his shoulders. “I am not sure,” he said. “All I know is that we cannot tell him that she was executed or killed. That would bring about his vengeance and we would never be rid of him. Mayhap, we tell him she was killed in an accident. A fall, even.”

  It made sense to Godfrey. “But if we tell him Lady Barklestone has been killed, what do we tell her? She will be waiting for him to return for her.”

  “Not if we tell her that he was killed in his escape attempt.”

  A permanent separation of the two. Godfrey could see the plan coming together and it made perfect sense to him. It would solve everything.

  “Then that is what we shall do,” he said quietly. “We should look for Cullen now. It’s my suspicion that even though he has fled, he has not gone far. He should be around here, somewhere, hiding.”

  “Then we shall find him.”

  “And we keep this between us? No mention to the king?”

  Hamilton lifted a dark eyebrow. “This is our play, Godfrey. We shall direct it as we please. Involving the king would mean we lose control.”

  He made sense and there was no time to waste. With a plan of action, Hamilton and Godfrey went about their business. Very shortly, they were in the chambers of the king with the plea to spare Lady Barklestone and no mention of finding or otherwise contacting Cullen de Nerra. But when the meeting with the king was finished, the two knights went on the hunt.

  They had to find de Nerra before he was able to find Lady Barklestone.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Your hands are so strong,” came the cackling old voice. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve felt hands this strong. Aye! Fine, wonderful hands.”

  “Hush,” Cullen admonished, removing Regal’s hands as she pawed at him. “You must remain silent. Too many damned guards about. They’ll hear you.”

  Undeterred by the fact that Cullen was all but peeling her off of him, Regal clutched his arm dreamily, imagining what he must look like.

  “Thank you for rescuing me from Preston’s clutches, sweetheart,” she said. “You deserve all of the praise Teddy has given you and more. A knight in the tradition of Galahad and Gawain.”

  Cullen eyed her. “You weren’t in his clutches, yet. But I had to remove you from the apartments, considering what I told you has happened. The earl would more than likely have taken his anger out on you.”

  “And you could not let that happen.”

  “Of course not.”

  Regal smiled, her milky eyes crinkling. “You care for Teddy so much that you would save her ailing grandmother from a painful fate? ’Tis true love, I say.”

  Cullen hushed her again. “If you don’t stop talking, we’ll both be doomed to a painful fate.”

  Regal obeyed and kept silent, which was difficult for her. She couldn’t see anything, not even shadows in this pitch-black night, as Cullen led her down darkened corridors and little-used stairways of Rodstone House. She had no way of knowing where they were going, or where they had been, but eventually the sharp chill of evening hit her and she gasped, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.

  “Where are we?” she asked, breaking her vow of silence.

  Cullen grabbed her hard and Regal found herself sandwiched between his massive body and a cold stone barrier. She heard footsteps approach and pass, and Cullen stepped away, allowing her room to breathe.

  “Christ, that was close,” he muttered. He cast Regal a stern look even though she couldn’t see it. “I am not going to tell you to be silent again. Next time, I shall simply gag you and be done with it.”

  Regal cocked an eyebrow. “If you try to gag me, you may not come away with all of your fingers. My eyes may have failed me, but my teeth are quite healthy.”

  He studied the old woman in the moonlight. “Now I see where Teddy inherits her stubborn nature.”

  “And her beauty.”

  He had to grin. Teodora was so incredibly beautiful that even in the best days of her youth, Regal could have hardly compared. “Aye,” he said simply to feed the old woman’s ego. “And her bold nature, her loose tongue, her obstinance, her foolishness, her…”

  Regal held up a clawed hand to stop him. “I get your meaning. Beneath that noble and beautiful exterior, I realize now that you are nothing but a belligerent whelp.”

  “And you are a cantankerous old crone.”

  “Then why in the hell did you save me from de Lacy?”

  “Because I am an idiot.”

  Regal laughed softly. “Not according to my granddaughter.” She sobered, reaching out to touch him yet again. This time, it was a comforting, grandmotherly touch. “Very well, Knight. I concede. I shall remain silent until we’re well away from this place.”

  Cullen smiled and he knew, instinctively, that Regal could sense it. He took her arm, looking around before he led her off once again into the darkness. Regal scampered after him, amazingly agile for a woman who spent most of her days shuffling about. She could smell great dampness and the scent of wet earth and old stones as they passed beneath her feet, a strange sensation at the quickened pace she was moving.

  They went on for quite some time that way and she received the distinct sense that they were no longer at Rodstone House, but heading somewhere else. There were sounds all around her, both frightening and intriguing.

  After what seemed like an eternity of walking, running, and hiding, they came to a halt and Regal bumped up against a stone wall. Cullen’s grip on her tightened.

  “What’s amiss, sweetheart?”

  Cullen didn’t answer her right away. They were back at Westminster Palace now and his eyes glittered in the weak light as he gazed over the grounds near the King’s Gate. The great round keep was to his right, the main structure of Westminster to his left.

  “Observing the activity,” he murmured. “’Tis my intention to hide you somewhere safe while I search for Teddy.”

  Regal’s tone was grim. “Do you know where they’ve taken her?”

  His jaw ticked. “To the vault, I would imagine. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  He could hardly think on the possibility without going mad. But he had to be realistic. “Back to the king, mayhap.”

  Regal sighed heavily. “The spoiled, deviant bastard. Henry was the same way, you know.”

  “His father?”

  “Aye.”

  Cullen looked at her. “And how would you know that?”

  Regal was silent a moment, as sober as Cullen had ever seen her. When she finally spoke, her tone was tinged with bitterness.

  “Because I came to court when I was very young to serve the Lady Rothbury, a distant cousin of my father’s,” she said quietly. “I fell in love with a dashing young bachelor knight and we were pledged to be wed. But the king took a fancy to me and stole my virtue as he had countless other young women. Consequently, my lovely knight’s family forced him to abandon me. Shamed, my own family sent me to the far reaches of Herefordshire near the Welsh border. I spent a year or so at a convent in punishment, where I met my husband.”

  Cullen could feel the old woman’s pain and regrets, but he knew her story was not unusual. Many young women serving the House of Plantagenet had suffered the same fate.

  “You met your husband at a convent?” he said. “That seems strange.”

  Regal seemed uncomfortable with her reflection, her words hurried as if to get them out quickly and forget about it. “We were a nursing order, pledged to heal the sick. My husband was the son of a poor but noble Norman family that had come here at the time of William the Bastard. I nursed him to health from a serious illness and we were wed shortly thereafter. Barton de la Chambre was a kind man, but he wasn’t Robert.”

  “Robert?”

  “My knight. His name was Robert de Rivington.”

  Cu
llen looked puzzled. “De Rivington?” he repeated. “I do not understand.”

  Regal snorted, half in amusement, half in agreement. “I never lost touch with him,” she said. “We had quite a few mutual friends. Though I could not have him and he eventually married a woman of purity and standing, we saw to it that our children married. We hoped that, mayhap, they would know the happiness we never did. My daughter married Robert’s son, Bradford.”

  “Did they know such happiness?”

  Regal shrugged. “Who can say? Bradford is nothing like his father and Antoinette is nothing like me. But their union has produced Teddy and, for that, I believe they are happy, in a sense.”

  Cullen felt genuine pity for the old woman. But only now, after meeting Teodora, could he possibly comprehend what it was to lose someone he loved. And with that realization, he was spurred with a tremendous sense of urgency.

  “Come on.” He grasped her tightly but gently as they once again began to move along the shadows. “Let’s get you out of here. If I do not return for Teodora fairly soon, I would expect to be in for a serious tongue-lashing when I finally come upon her. In fact, I shall be lucky if she doesn’t give me a black eye for taking so damned long.”

  “Cullen?” Regal’s voice was soft.

  “Aye?”

  “Do you love her?”

  He couldn’t take the time to pause, to think of a reasonable answer that didn’t encompass some sort of lie. He was usually one to hide his emotions, conceal them, especially from nosy old women who had a tendency to annoy him. It frankly wasn’t any of her business. But being a truthful man, there was only one real answer that came to mind.

  “Aye.”

  “Madly and deeply?”

  “For always.”

  Semper fidelis.

  Regal smiled in the darkness. Cullen didn’t see the tear that came to her eye.

  “Sloan, you disappoint me.” The king’s black eyes were piercing. “Your plan is not working. De Lacy has asked for mercy for his wife and, as we speak, is fortifying his forces to protect himself against any further attacks on his person. This is not working out well at all.”

 

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