by Alyssa James
“By the Holy Grail he shall pay for this.” Blood pounded in his temples. The beast that had resided within him since the murder of his parents, the one Rowan had struggled to slay, raised its ugly head once again. It urged him to destroy Malin—the one who had already taken those most precious from him and who now threatened to do so again.
“I should have killed him long ago,” Rowan growled to himself.
Sir Dwaine regarded him a little hesitantly. “My lord, what would you have us do?”
Rowan forced himself to breathe deeply and to think. “Have a small party of men saddle up to travel with me. There is naught to do but travel to Baddesley and play Malin’s game.”
“His game, my lord? Pray tell me, what is his objective?”
“My life for my lady’s.” ’Twas simple. Rowan knew exactly what Malin would demand. If necessary Rowan would willingly lay down his life for his lady wife and their unborn child for his life meant nothing without her. The difficulty would be in securing Lisette’s release. Malin was not to be trusted and would wish both Rowan and Lisette dead—especially if he realised Lisette was expecting Rowan’s child.
This new ally of Malin’s, Lord Blake, did he feature in all of this?
“I don’t understand why the messenger did not reach you,” Sir Dwaine pondered aloud.
“I did not ride by the main road the entire way.”
“Then the men travelling with Sir Richard will get the message and Sir Bradford will soon return with the knights from Romsey. ’Twill then be possible to mount an attack on Baddesley Keep, Lord Rowan.”
“Nay. Malin would not hesitate to kill my wife if we attack. He may harm her anyway, but his purpose is to kill me. The only way to ensure the safe release of Lady Lisette is to perform a trade. He sends Lisette out of the keep as I go in.” At least then Rowan would know she and their child were safe. If ’twas at all possible he would find a way to mete out his own form of justice to Malin.
“But, Lord Rowan—”
Rowan put up a hand to silence his knight’s protest. “There is no time to waste. Order the horses saddled. Assemble the party of knights immediately for they will accompany me and return Lady Lisette to safety.” The words he uttered sounded confident but knew the fate of his wife and their child rested in God’s hands. Never had he prayed so fervently.
Chapter 19
Darkness.
Lisette strained to see and to make sense of her whereabouts, but there was not even a glimmer of light. Confusion made her frown. The dull throb in her right temple was all-too real. This was no dream. Where was she? The air was cool, damp and stale. Whatever she was seated on...stone floor?...was hard and uncomfortable.
A shiver ran up her spine. ’Twas partly from the cold and partly, she acknowledged, from fear. The second she shifted a little she discovered every muscle was stiff and cramped.
Slowly, hazy memories of her ordeal returned. Men in the forest surrounded her. No sign of her guards. Robbed of sight, hands quickly bound behind her back, there’d been nothing she could do to save herself. All she’d been able to come up with to stall them was a plan to injure herself just enough to delay their journey. It had been a plan which could have gone horribly wrong.
Mercifully her gamble had paid off. Later that day when she’d finally regained consciousness from her fall from the horse, she’d been untied and rested on a make-shift bed. The men had made camp and she gathered from their conversation that they waited nervously to see whether or not she would survive her fall without any lasting injuries.
Unbound, her hands had gone immediately to her abdomen. Relief had made her exhale a long, thankful breath. Her womb was still slightly swollen. There was no sticky wetness between her legs and she had not suffered any cramping pain—the only symptoms she knew of which would indicate a miscarriage. She’d sent up fervent prayers of thanksgiving, praising God that her babe was unharmed from her fall.
“She’s coming ’round!” a rough voice had announced.
Lisette had kept her eyelids tightly closed.
“Wake up, wench!”
Ooh! Cold water had splashed over Lisette, causing her to gasp and her eyelids to fly open.
“Yer a stupid woman!” She had been given a rough shake by a man who appeared to be completely without principles. “The baron’s goin’ ter be mad as hell we’ve been delayed. Get on yer feet!”
“Do yer think she’s suffered any permanent damage?” The question had come from behind her.
“I don’t care. As long as she’s still pokable the baron’s friend will be happy.”
Lisette had moaned dramatically.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” another had chipped in. “We were s’posed to deliver her unharmed.”
Moaning again, slightly louder this time, Lisette had clutched at her side and gasped as though she was in agony. She’d let her eyes roll back in her head, her head loll forward and her limbs flop.
A man cursed. “We can’t take her to the baron like this!”
“She could be damaged in the head,” another said.
A lewd laugh from another before he said, “I don’t think the baron’s friend is worried about her head.”
“Still, what if we get her there and she dies? He won’t want to poke a corpse.”
The man who’d shaken her paced back and forward, his agitation palpable. “Alright,” he told the men at last. “We’ll stay here until we know she’s goin’ to survive.”
“By the Lord, what if she doesn’t?” demanded another.
“Then we’ll have to ride like the wind as far away from Baddesley as we can and hope the baron never catches up with us.”
She’d held them up for another day before the leader of the group had insisted they be on their way. When she’d thought she was unobserved, her hand had gone to her pockets. The dagger she always carried—the one that she had used successfully against her guardian once before—had not been there. She had been guarded closely and had grown increasingly frustrated that no opportunity presented to escape her enemy. At least she had forestalled her arrival to the men who’d ordered her capture.
After a day Lisette had been so hungry she’d needed to admit that she was roused enough to eat. ’Twould do her baby no good if she did not take the nutrition she needed and lost her energy to think and to fight. Despite her protests that she was too weak to travel, the leader of the men had declared they would continue on their way at daybreak. He’d refused to say just where they were headed but, given that he’d mentioned riding as far away from Baddesley as possible if she was harmed, she’d reasoned Baddesley was their intended destination.
All day she’d been tossed about on the horse as the men had pushed on at almost breakneck pace. At some stage she must have fallen asleep for she had no recollection of being lifted from the mount nor of reaching this place. This room was like a dungeon set deep in the bowels of the earth. Her captors had spoken of taking her to the baron. There were no dungeons at Bridlemere Keep and Baddesley was closer to Romsey. It made sense that they would take her there.
A little sob escaped from her lips as she realised she must now meet the evil men who had orchestrated her abduction. The next sob turned into a shrill, uncontrollable shriek as a rodent ran across her outstretched leg.
Oh, dear Lord. Be calm, she instructed herself. As much as she loathed rats, her hands were no longer bound and she was not defenceless. A rat was surely the least of her problems.
Getting to her feet gingerly, she braced herself against the cold stone wall. The world of darkness spun around her. Each movement brought a fresh, piercing pain to add to the constant ache of her head.
Her stomach rumbled from hunger. The sound was inordinately loud in the silence then echoed through the darkness.
How long had she been here?
Malin and her former guardian would not leave her here forever. Knowing her father’s distant cousin, he would want to gloat and to demean her in any way he could. He
would want to make sure she knew that he was behind her predicament. Mayhap he would want her to beg for mercy. The thought made her spine stiffen. Never would she give him that pleasure. ’Twas imperative she find another weapon.
Running one hand along the wall she took a few steps into the inky darkness. She searched for an exit or for something which may prove useful to defend herself when someone finally came to release her or feed her. A rock? A plank of wood? A candlestick? ’Twas unfortunate that the dagger she normally carried with her had been removed from the pocket of her clothing.
Lord, be merciful and give me some way of defending myself, she prayed.
One of the men who had captured her mentioned she had a purpose. She imagined that purpose was to lure Rowan to Baddesley. That was surely the plan and she was the bait. Hopefully the soldiers from Romsey who had guarded her in the forest would have been allowed to return to Romsey Castle to inform Sir Dwaine that the baron had her and Rowan would know of her plight by now.
Her good husband would come to her rescue. Even despising her as he did, he would do his duty. He had taken a vow before God to protect her and she knew he was an honourable man of his word. Once again he would suffer because of her, for his brother and her guardian could only mean to murder him—mayhap promising her life in exchange for his.
The creak of a door opening made her turn her head toward the source. A shaft of light from the flame of a torch pierced the pitch black, signalling that she was no longer alone. She shielded her eyes against the sudden brightness which assaulted them.
“You’re awake, my dear.”
She wished she was still unconscious as she regarded her former guardian.
“Baron Baddesley, allow me to introduce you to my former ward, now the Countess of Romsey.” Lord Blake’s words were respectful but there was nothing respectful about his tone. Although he’d moved out of the light and she couldn’t see his face, his voice told her that the introduction was accompanied by a sneer.
“Countess.”
Her gaze flew to Rowan’s half-brother, seeking to know whether there was any hint of compassion—whether there might be any point in appealing to him to release her. What she saw made the fine hairs on the nape of her neck raise in alarm. In the harsh blaze of the torch, Malin’s expression was malicious—the light in his eyes spoke of evil intent. No hint of anything but malevolence in this man. He projected an aura completely unlike that of her husband.
Although not as tall and commanding as Rowan, Malin possessed the same aristocratic nose. That was where the similarity ended. Malin’s jaw line was not as strong, his lips were thin and his expression was one of sour discontent.
“Baron Baddesley.” Although she endeavoured to keep the contempt from her voice, ’twas difficult to do so. She suspected she failed. “If you are Malin of Baddesley, then you are my brother by marriage.”
Malin tilted back his head and laughed uproariously. The sound bounced off the stone walls and reverberated through her, causing her to break out in gooseflesh.
“Your brother?” he repeated at last. “Is that what your husband told you? That he and I are brothers?”
How best to answer that?
“I have not known my husband long. He has not mentioned you directly,” she lied, unwilling to reveal that she knew all too well the wrongs this man had committed against her husband and his own parents. “I have been told the Earl of Romsey hailed from Baddesley.”
“The Earl of Romsey,” Malin spat the words out, his features contorting with ugly, manic rage. “Aye, the high and mighty Earl of Romsey grew up in Baddesley.” Each word was a growl of condescension. Malin took a menacing step toward her. “He should never have been here. ’Twas not his right. Your husband is a bastard and should have been drowned at birth!”
She flinched at his words, recalling that Malin had ordered his own mother’s drowning.
Rowan’s half-brother snorted in disgust before he continued. “On second thoughts, drowning would have been too quick. He should have been left in a rat’s nest.”
The man was diabolically cruel!
Recovering from her shock, her breaths quickened with anger. Lisette glared at Malin. “My husband is the king’s first knight. He has served his king and country selflessly.”
“He’s the devil’s spawn,” Malin spat.
“He is a treacherous deceiver,” Lord Blake snarled. “He saw Collins hung as a murderer so that he could take Collins’ place and marry you.”
“He never wanted to marry me,” she vented in frustration. “’Twas the king’s wish we wed.”
“Henry meddles in things that don’t concern him,” Lord Blake declared.
“Lord Blake was your guardian. There were no banns posted, so the king’s decree that you marry Rowan broke the laws of the church.” Malin stomped away to her left like a child in a tantrum. “Bring the torch closer man,” he ordered a soldier.
Lisette forced herself to stand her ground and schooled her features to remain as impassive as possible while she was subjected to the bright flare of torch light. The Baron of Baddesley turned and walked toward her for closer inspection.
“She possesses a rare beauty,” Malin said thoughtfully. He reached out and placed one extended finger under her chin, forcing her head to tilt up slightly. Lisette stiffened at his touch.
“Aye,” Blake returned in reminiscent tones, “She is the image of her mother who was a great beauty.”
“Far too fine a piece for the likes of Rowan. She should be bred with by one of noble blood. Mayhap I will keep her to wife.”
“Nay! I have waited a long time for her. You promised,” Lord Blake protested tightly.
“I am already married,” Lisette declared through gritted teeth.
“The marriage of a noblewoman to a bastard is no marriage,” Malin dismissed with an airy wave of his hand, completely ignoring the protest which had been made by his partner in crime. “You were destined for marriage to a nobleman. You would give me spirited sons.”
“That was never our agreement!” Blake protested.
Malin shrugged his shoulders. “Alas, ’tis true. And, as a nobleman, I must honour my word. ” He raised one hand again. This time he stroked the pads of his fingers down her cheek.
She flinched at the inappropriate contact and felt heated loathing flare from her eyes. “You captured me and dragged me to this place. Hardly the behaviour of a nobleman,” she hissed at her captor.
Lord Blake took a step forward. She could see he was extremely agitated. “Your husband has not succeeded in taming you, Lisette.”
“Her husband wouldn’t be able to tame anything,” Malin sneered. “He is a veritable coward.” He moved his hand so that all his cruel fingertips dug into the flesh along her jaw line and kept her still when she would have jerked her head away. “The last time I saw him he was running as fast as he could away from me, naked as the day he was born.” Every word was scornful. “He took off like a whipped dog with his tail between his legs and he’s never had the courage to return to challenge me.”
“Courage?” she bit out through teeth that were pressed together with the force of his hand against her jaw. “You know nothing of the word courage when you send your men to capture a defenceless lady and bring her to this hellhole. My husband is no coward but I do know a coward when I see one.” Glaring directly at him her meaning was as clear as the water from a mountain stream.
Malin released his hold of her jaw abruptly. Punishment for her words came fast and harsh. Lisette hadn’t realised he held a whip in his other hand until she saw him raise it and felt the sting of its lash through her clothing. She winced at the sharp pain as the length struck her hip and then curled itself around her buttock cheek.
Lord Blake clapped his hands. “Strip her down, Baron, and let her feel the sting of your whip against her naked flesh. She deserves no less for her insolence.”
“Patience, my friend. Much as it would be a pleasure to teach her some meekness
, ’twill be as we agreed. I think you will want her flesh largely unspoiled when you have her.”
Lisette couldn’t help recoiling at his words.
Lord Blake noticed and laughed at her reaction. “I didn’t ever have your mother but I will have you, Lisette. I have already waited a long time but I will await my pleasure a little longer. You are the bait in Baron Baddesley’s trap. Soon your husband will arrive and it will bring me more pleasure to have the arrogant bastard watch as I take you.”
“Your plans will fail,” she blurted. “Rowan will not come for me for I have greatly displeased him.”
Malin’s eyes narrowed. “I am told he is bound for Henry’s court with Richard of Winchester. Your capture should delay his visit to the king, but I wish to know of his business at court.”
“He tells me naught. I am only aware that he is going to meet the Duke of Winchester,” she invented, wanting to keep her husband’s plans secret and to throw his enemy off his trail. “I know not of an audience with the king. The Duke attacked Romsey village then falsely accused Lord Rowan of attacking his village. Now there is bad blood between the two seats.” Let Malin think his plan had succeeded. Lisette wanted to lull him into a false sense of security.
“Pray do not trust her, Baron,” Blake advised. “Your source is surely far more reliable.”
Malin paid him no heed. Instead, he turned to the guards who stood behind him. “Take her to Lady Eleanor’s chamber. Assign her a maid and see to it that she is cleaned up.”
Lady Eleanor. The woman to whom Rowan had been betrothed. The one who had betrayed him and married Malin.
“But, Baron—” Lord Blake spluttered.
Baddesley shot him a quelling look. “This place stinks and it is rat-infested. We have no idea when Romsey will arrive for her and she is no good to me dead.”
Lisette’s mood lightened fractionally. Mayhap she would find an escape route from Lady Eleanor’s chamber. Although, from what she had learned from Bethia, the only escape for Malin’s wife had been death.