Geoff laid an arm across Basil’s shoulders.
“Saxons haven’t had good experience with Norman law. They are skeptical of anything we say. It plays havoc with a marriage.”
Geoffrey removed his arm from Basil’s shoulders and grasped his upper arms in an iron grip.
“Wait for your retaliation, my friend. She’s probably in the middle of dressing for the Westminster Palace dance. Lynnet’s coming with us tonight.”
“She doesn’t have her own escort?”
“No. We’ll keep an eye on her.”
Basil frowned as Geoff released his arms and stepped back. Lady Lynnet needed close watching. She’d blundered into dangerous waters. Newlyweds, enjoying a dance together, were not the most alert escorts for the lady at this critical time.
The sooner I find these carrion, the sooner she’ll be safe.
“What about her parents? Will they accompany you?”
“No, thank goodness. We won’t have the displeasure of their company. They don’t travel at night.”
“I’ll escort her. After all, it’s a sheriff’s duty to keep citizens safe.”
Geoff laughed heartily. “You said that with a straight face.”
Basil grinned in spite of himself. “Spending an evening looking at a lovely woman won’t be burdensome.”
“Come on,” Geoff said, grabbing his arm. “I’ll take you over there. I want to see her reaction.”
Basil knocked loudly on Lynnet’s chamber door. It was cracked open by a serving wench.
“Is Lady Lynnet receiving? I’m the Sheriff of London and Lord Geoff accompanies me.”
Lynnet’s musical voice drifted across the chamber.
“Please come in. And welcome. Sit at table with me.”
She was standing by the table with one hand touching it. She turned in the direction of the maidservant.
“Fleur, please pour some ale for my visitors.”
It was uncanny how she knew where people were positioned in a room.
Geoff pulled out a chair and dropped casually into it, saying, “I thought you’d be dressing for the dance tonight. Matilda’s been driving me crazy asking what gown to wear and what accessories.”
Lynnet laughed, a high, tinkling sound that Basil thought must match the voices of angels.
“There’s no need for her to fuss,” Geoff said. “My wife looks beautiful in anything. You will too. Why haven’t you started dressing?”
“My companion is sick from bad food and the maidservant assigned to me is having trouble helping me with my clothing.”
Geoff pushed his chair back and strode to the windows.
“No wonder. If she’d pull the drapes open she’d have more light to see by.” He pushed the heavy drapes to one side on both windows.
“I thought they were open.”
Basil thought Lynnet’s face looked stricken as he sat down at the table.
“I’ll choose for you,” Geoff said, striding towards the wardrobe. He flung open the doors with a crash. “Lord knows I have enough experience with my wife to know what you females want.”
“Most kind. I was getting frustrated.”
“I brought you an escort for tonight’s dance,” Geoff said over his shoulder as he rummaged through the clothing. “The honorable sheriff.”
Lynnet looked stunned. Basil couldn’t tell if that was good or bad for his part. He was after all a bastard son. She was second cousin to a queen. He waited anxiously for her next words.
“You’re very kind, but I’d be a boring companion. I’ve never danced in public in London. I’ve danced country dances in my home parish, but I don’t know if they are played here. I planned to sit and listen to the music.”
Relief passed through him. The shock seen on her face had nothing to do with his circumstances, only with her own feelings of inadequacy.
Just looking at her will make the evening pass. With her being blind, Basil could look to his heart’s content without making the lady ill at ease.
“Nonetheless, I would be pleased to be your escort.”
Lynnet smiled brilliantly and, to Basil, it was like the sun bursting forth from behind a cloud.
“I accept. I crave something cheerful. This past week has been frightening.”
Geoff broke in to describe the clothes he’d chosen. When Lynnet agreed with his choices, the men departed so she could dress.
It was only when he was almost to his own chambers that Basil realized he’d never told Lynnet his true reason for visiting her today.
Within two hours, Lynnet found herself fed, dressed and being escorted to the stables by the towering sheriff, with Matilda and Geoff walking behind. It was almost as if the afternoon visit from the sheriff, and having Lord Geoff choose her clothing, spurred Fleur to be extra proficient at getting her dressed and out the door.
She laid a gloved hand on Basil’s wool-covered forearm as they waited for their horses to be saddled. His arm was satisfyingly muscled and the muscles rippled as he moved. He must have bathed recently. An aroma of soap was mixed in with those of wool, leather and horses.
“I’ve never ridden at night.”
Her parents had trouble seeing and never traveled after dusk if they could find a way out of it. Lynnet was going to the dance in defiance of their wishes.
Basil patted her hand, his blunt, capable fingers reassuring.
“I’ll keep a good grip on your horse’s reins.”
Lynnet loved the timbre of his deep voice. Its sonorous masculinity sent shivers up and down her spine.
She strained to identify the voices of the other people arriving at the stables. She might just hear the voice of one of those men in the cellars or her kidnappers.
“It sounds like there are a lot of others traveling with us.”
“Quite a few,” Matilda said. “Since the new palace is still being refurbished, a great many of us have had to stay here in the old palace. Inconvenient, but what can we do?”
When Lynnet’s horse arrived, Basil lifted her easily onto the sidesaddle. The flesh where his broad hands spanned her waist seared hotly like a branding iron.
How strange. I like it.
Fleur appeared breathless when she arrived at Maximilian’s chamber door. He was provoked that she had the gall to come unannounced. His wife, Lady Rosamund, was getting dressed for tonight’s dance in the back chamber. The last thing he wanted was to have his wife overhearing his business.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed as he drew Fleur inside and shut the door. “I don’t want anyone to see you in my hallway.”
“I have news.”
Maximilian cringed.
“Keep your voice down. My wife and her maid are in the back chamber. I don’t want them to overhear.”
Fleur whispered.
“My news is important. I hurried to get here before you left.”
She puffed out her chest as if to emphasize the importance of her information.
“Listen to this. The Sheriff of London is escorting Lady Lynnet to the dance tonight. Lord Geoff and Lady Matilda are going with them to Westminster Palace.”
Maximilian’s heart dropped into his stomach.
“Bah. What bad news. I’ll have to tell the others.” He cringed again. “And tell my wife we can’t go to the dance after all.”
“I bet that will go over well,” Fleur said as she inched her way back out the door.
Maximilian’s anger rose.
“Rosamund will do as I say. She’s learned not to oppose me.”
Chapter Seven
The journey through the moonless night profoundly affected Basil. Somewhere along the miles covered during the hour-long ride, he developed an intense, protective feeling towards the blind woman on the smooth-gaited horse.
The protectiveness was not because she was helpless. Just the opposite. Her willingness to face a cold, hour-long ride on the back of an unknown horse impressed Basil. There was always the chance of the horse stumbling into a darkened p
othole, a possibility that would have had some sighted women clinging to the saddle in terror. Lynnet sat upright, dignified and balanced.
The lack of light tonight gave him some understanding of the world she lived in day-to-day. The torches of the king’s retainers were not sufficient to cut through the gloom of a moonless night. The shadows of the riders elongated and diminished as the landscape changed, creating a weird, moving pattern.
No wonder Lynnet is accused of seeing ghostly images.
If my horse stumbles and I end up sprawled like a fool in the dirt, well so be it. I’m not going to miss this dance because I’m petrified of something that probably won’t happen.
The sharp bite of winter night air slid under her garments, chilling her. It had taken all her willpower to remain in the saddle when nearby horses spooked at the chaos caused by dozens of riders setting off at the same time. Despite erratic noises, her horse stayed calm, its head hung low, and followed meekly at the sheriff’s tug on the reins.
Basil must have gotten me the most mild-mannered horse in the king’s stables.
The trip home would be a challenge. She would be tired.
Lynnet didn’t join the conversational banter. Despite the bitter wind blowing off the Thames, the party was in a happy mood and laughter rippled out into the night air.
Since both palaces bordered the Thames, the roadway followed the river. Basil set a slow pace and Matilda and Geoff didn’t complain. They rode behind her, which was a relief. If she fell off at least someone would notice right away.
Relief surged through Lynnet when she finally heard the riders halting and dismounting.
After asking permission, Basil slid his hands under her heavy cloak to get a better grip. She ignored the effect his fingers had on her waistline when he lifted her off the leather sidesaddle as if she had no weight at all. A little unsteady on her feet from pins and needles in her left leg, she clung to his broad shoulders until she could regain her balance.
Lynnet put a hand on Basil’s arm for guidance, aware of the heavy wool enveloping the man. The wool was not of the quality worn by her father, but definitely serviceable.
As they joined Matilda and Geoff on the dirt pathway to Westminster Palace, surrounding animated chatter excited Lynnet’s curiosity.
“Tell me everything that’s happening. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
Basil grimaced. Fashions and architecture were not his forté. Bashing heads together was more to his liking. But if it would make the lady smile, he’d do his best.
“Many are dressed in velvet and fur.”
Basil, himself, was dressed conservatively in black wool. The only relief from black was a wide, blue ribbon strung through a bronze Seal of Office around his neck and his weaponry. He would have to leave his broadsword in the cloak room before entering the Hall. He hoped the slender knife secreted in his knee-high, black leather boot would be overlooked by the king’s guards. If he uncovered the conspirators tonight, he wanted an advantage over them.
“I wish I could see.”
The plaintive tone in her voice tore at his heart.
“Your beauty rivals any of the women attending.”
As he said it, he realized he meant it. At first, he only wanted to make her feel better, to remove that sad tone from her voice. In looking around, he decided it was true. She was the most beautiful woman there. Even the vivacious Matilda could not match Lynnet’s serene beauty.
“That’s kind of you.”
Lynnet’s touch was featherlight on his arm, but it seemed to be enough for her not to stumble. Matilda and Geoff walked farther ahead on the smooth, dirt path. The darkness was lit intermittently by torches shoved into the earth along the pathway from the stables to the massive front door.
“The king seems to have every torch and candle lit tonight,” he said. “All the windows are aglow, and there are a great many windows.”
With the Anglo-Saxon rebellion suppressed, there was no need to make Westminster into a fortress.
“It’s an ornate palace built only twenty years ago by the king’s deceased brother, Rufus.”
“I know. My tutor told me it’s a sight to behold.”
“Your tutor’s correct. The Hall dominates in the center, with wings on either side ending in rounded turrets. The arched window over the entrance is three-stories high. It’s flanked by towering spires.” To Basil, it looked like a cathedral, not a residence.
“Are you two all right back there?” Matilda asked, glancing quickly over her shoulder.
“We’re fine,” Lynnet said.
Basil patted Lynnet’s gloved hand where it lay on his forearm. He admired her courage.
Immediately he felt embarrassed.
I’ve done it again. Twice in one day. I crush hands, not pat them.
“All the king’s servants are dressed in purple and gold,” Basil was saying. “At the door, porters are stationed. Anyone questionable will be blocked from entering. The king must be protected.”
The conspirators’ words flashed into Lynnet’s mind.
“Caution is definitely wise.”
She could feel Basil start up steps. At the same time she heard, “Be careful. Stairs. They’re not high, but they’re wide.”
Lynnet tried to match his stride so that her foot wouldn’t catch an edge and slip off. It was a challenge.
Basil gave their names to the porters and they followed Geoff and Matilda inside.
“We’ll leave our cloaks in a room outside the Great Hall. Servants will keep an eye on them.”
Lynnet had worn her expensive fox fur cloak with a hood and red, velvet lining tonight. She hoped Basil thought it complemented her complexion and hair. Evelyn had said it did.
“Is the cloak room on the left?”
She could almost hear his jaw drop.
“I don’t know how you do it, but you’re right.”
She grinned.
“Many years of practice. Not to ignore the fact that I can see some shapes. People are heading in that direction.”
Bursts of conversation ebbed and flowed as their party entered the Great Hall. Laughter echoed and guests called out to friends. Basil frowned.
I have no friends in this crowd, other than Geoff.
The nobility turned a cold shoulder to illegitimate sons, especially those with few possessions. Only fear of offending his powerful father kept them civil.
That’s of no concern. I do as I want.
Basil made Lynnet comfortable on a bench away from the crowd and against the wall, thinking as he did so that she looked beautiful in green velvet. She hadn’t wanted to walk around the huge chamber, claiming a need to rest on something not moving underneath her.
Geoff and Matilda brought them food and drink since Basil refused to leave Lynnet’s side. He didn’t want the conspirators to gain even a sliver of time to spirit her away.
They were sitting quietly, finishing eating, listening to the musicians, not even talking. Occasionally, he helped her with her food.
He was surprised he wasn’t restless. Usually sitting quietly was an anathema to him, but with Lynnet it was peaceful.
Lynnet was exquisitely aware of Basil as she sat next to him. Her skin seemed afire and her stomach full of butterflies. Her heart stepped up its beat and her breath seemed only capable of short, quick bursts.
This has never happened to me before.
She wished she could see the expression on his face. She wondered if it held any of the same feelings.
This is exactly what I wished for.
But her parents would never approve.
“I know that song,” Lynnet was saying. “I can dance it. Put us on the end of the line so I don’t bump into other dancers.”
Her face was alight with excitement. Her unseeing eyes glowed in the candlelight.
He took her tiny hand in his and placed his own on her slender waist. His fingers tingled.
Enthralled, Basil watched Lynnet turn in the correct direction fo
r each change of the dance pattern. When she pulled her hand from his grasp to give it to another dance partner, he suddenly felt bereft. Not since a child, when his father tore him away from his mother, had he felt such a loss. Yet, here she was only inches away and coming back to him. Now, the world was back in balance.
He’d never experienced these feelings before. Could he be falling in love?
Impossible.
She’s second cousin to a queen. Too far above me.
Chapter Eight
The conspirators lounged at their ease in Count Courbet’s chamber while they listened to Fleur’s report. She remained standing, not having been invited to sit.
“Best of all, when I returned an hour late with dried-out bread and cold porridge, I brought with me a pot of the most awful-smelling manure.”
The count thought her facial expression evil, which suited him perfectly. This was not a task for a do-gooder.
“While pretending to straighten the linens, I put my small pot inside her clean chamber pot and took its lid off.”
She grinned.
“It didn’t take long for the lady to get sick. The smell was even giving me a fit.”
Laughter rang out in the chamber.
“Anything that torments that Anglo-Saxon bitch suits me,” André said.
Fleur preened and fluffed her dark hair before continuing her tale.
“She demanded my lover give her a new servant. Of course, he claimed there were none to be had.”
“Good work,” Maximilian said, clapping his hands and looking gleeful.
Fleur smirked. “She can barely stand me, but she’s stuck with me.”
“Keep it up,” the count said, tossing a small bag of coins to her. “Add some ghost sounds. Make her believe what she heard last week was imagined.”
“My pleasure,” Fleur said. “That Saxon bitch is too high and mighty for my taste.”
The count smiled grimly.
“Get her so mixed up she won’t know what’s real.”
Lynnet was seated in the de la Werreiur chamber, a plate of cheeses and bread chunks at hand.
“This new servant drives me mad. She does everything wrong.”
Out of the Dark Page 6