Out of the Dark

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Out of the Dark Page 13

by JoAnn Smith Ainsworth


  Suddenly, Courbet’s snarling face collapsed and his body sprawled across Basil like a dead man. The sheriff looked up. Standing above them was Nicolas, the heavy, wooden stick he wore tied to his belt raised in his hands, a big grin on his face.

  “Sometimes even a big warrior like you can use a little help from a skinny guy like me.”

  Basil grinned in spite of himself.

  “Let’s get this piece of garbage to a cell.”

  Lynnet knew she was drifting in and out of grogginess. Sometimes she had a hard time remembering where she was. Only the draining cold reminded her.

  As she clung to the beam, she became aware of her grandmother’s presence floating above the water. A sense of well-being came over her. She was not alone.

  “Do you know what I regret, Grandmamma? I regret that I never married. I regret not knowing a man’s love.”

  As if her grandmother spoke, Lynnet absorbed the thought, “You have a man you love.”

  Lynnet smiled.

  “You’re right. I have a man I love.”

  She drifted, peacefully, for a few moments.

  “Do you know what, Grandmamma? I don’t care what my parents say. I don’t care if I must sell all my jewels and live in rags. I’ll find some way to convince Basil to marry me.”

  As Lynnet again slowly lost consciousness, she dreamed of making love to Basil.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When Basil and Nicolas dragged the unconscious count to a cell, the sheriff was astounded to find the king’s deputy in the Tower cellars.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Baron Otheur said. “Lord Wilfgive convinced the king to become involved.”

  “You know Lady Lynnet is missing?”

  The baron nodded.

  “I stopped at the Hall on my way down here and got a full report. The captain seems to be handling matters.”

  Basil released his grip, letting Courbet drop, still unconscious, onto the stone floor. Nicolas stood guard over him with his wooden stick.

  “Here’s your third conspirator.”

  The Baron’s eyes widened.

  “Count Courbet de Shereborne?”

  “I was just about to interrogate him.”

  The baron summoned soldiers. They picked up the unconscious count under both arms.

  “Put him in a cell.”

  As the soldiers dragged Courbet away, the deputy said, “Leave that one to me. And your brother too.”

  “Our father doesn’t know of his treachery.”

  “Don’t say a word. Wait until I get answers.”

  Basil’s spirit lifted. Heavy burdens were rolling off his shoulders. The deputy’s next words made his heart sing.

  “Join the search. I’ll take over from here on out. When I get your brother and that one to talk,” the king’s deputy said, “you’ll have a better chance of finding her.”

  All he’d wanted to do since dawn was search for Lynnet. Duty to the king interfered. Now, the baron assumed that duty, releasing Basil’s pent-up frustrations.

  As he turned towards the Hall, his informant caught his arm. “I’ll take a soldier to arrest the chamberlain.”

  Basil nodded.

  “You’re a good man, Nicolas.”

  “We don’t want any of them to get away.”

  “You may have saved my life today. At the least, you saved me from embarrassment.”

  “You owe me.”

  Basil was almost to the end of the corridor when he heard Baron Otheur call out, “By the by, we got word that Count Maximilian is dead.”

  “By my man’s hand?”

  “No. Thieves. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  Basil’s thoughts dwelt on Lynnet as he jogged towards the Hall. He hoped fate would not be cruel and reveal love only to snatch it away forever.

  Paradoxically, his drunken brother was the catalyst. While their fight resulted in the physical loss of his love because he hadn’t posted a guard, it also created the circumstances for the astounding recognition of that love.

  He would ask Lynnet to marry him. He didn’t have wealth, but no man would try harder to make her happy.

  “I have to find her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lynnet awoke to shouting. Through the grogginess, she distinguished human voices and the lapping sounds of water against the wooden sides of a boat. Hope surged.

  She twisted her head towards the sounds. Among the shadows, she picked out a dark shape bearing down on her. She smelled the pungent odor of dung.

  It must be one of those barges moving human waste downriver to farmlands.

  She barely made out the shapes of two boatmen gesturing for her to get out of the way.

  “Help. Help. I’m blind.”

  The barge would run her down and she would drown if she chose the wrong direction. She quickly unknotted her nightgown from the beam and turned her head from side to side, trying to decide. Her heart beat erratically, seeming to want to break through her chest wall. Then it took a leap of joy. Her grandmother’s apparition appeared to her right.

  “Grandmamma.”

  Lynnet let go of the beam pulling her into the path of the barge and paddled towards the vision of her grandmother. Her arms and legs felt lethargic from the cold. The water’s drag as the barge slowly slid past stretched her clothing and hair out upon the water behind her. She redoubled her efforts. I can’t get dragged under.

  A metal hook entangled with her clothing. Lynnet screamed.

  “Lord have mercy.”

  She was being lifted out of the water and swung through the air. She hit the side of the barge with a clunk.

  “Hang on,” a male voice shouted.

  Breathless and shivering, Lynnet grasped the wooden railing as best she could. The movement of the barge dragged her legs underneath it, threatening to pull her away. She dug her fingernails into the rough wood and prayed.

  “Hang on. I’m putting the boat hook down.”

  Lynnet felt the long pole being set against the barge, its metal hook still entangled in her clothing.

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  Strong hands clasped her underarms, jerking her totally out of the frigid water, and dropping her onto the rough planking of the barge. The boat hook ripped from her clothing and fell to the floor with a clang.

  “Stay there. I have to get back to the tiller.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  Lynnet shivered in the cold morning air, thankful to be alive. She lay, trying to catch her breath. The stench of drying cattle and human dung assailed her nostrils.

  “What were you doing in the river?”

  This voice was different. This was not the man who pulled her from the waters. She turned her head and vaguely made out against the morning sky a man working a long pole. Lynnet felt the barge change direction slightly.

  “Someone tried to kill me. I was grabbed from my bed and tossed into the Thames.”

  “You’re lucky you’re not dead.”

  “I know.”

  “We have no blankets. In a quarter hour’s time, we will arrive at where we live. We’ll give you dry clothing then.”

  “She can have my cloak,” the man at the tiller said as he came towards her.

  A smelly, rough, wool cloak enveloped her. She wrapped it tightly around and believed she had never felt anything as comforting in her life.

  “I am Lady Lynnet of Osfrith,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Second cousin to the late queen. Return me to my family at the Tower and you’ll be rewarded for your kindness.”

  Basil was next to the Captain of the Guard when the deputy’s courier arrived with the news that Courbet confessed that Lady Lynnet was dead and thrown into the Thames.

  Black rage enveloped Basil. His heart squeezed to near bursting. His gut wrenched with anguished grief. He’d lost the promise of love before he had a chance to experience it.

  “They’ll pay for this,” Basil said through gritted teeth. “I’ll see they pay.”

>   The evidence he’d gather would allow them no opportunity to use influence or money to escape justice. He’d make sure the king separated their heads from their shoulders.

  “Call the soldiers back from the Tower and the woods,” the captain was shouting to his sergeants. “Have them drag the river for the body.”

  Basil confronted the captain.

  “I’ll join the dragging of the river. I want to be there when she’s found.”

  Geoff’s voice as he called out while pounding on Lynnet’s chamber door alerted Matilda that his news was bad. She cringed, blood pounding in her ears. She raced to the door and swung it open.

  “They found her?”

  Geoff shook his head.

  “No, but Count Courbet confessed to having her murdered and thrown in the Thames.”

  “Nooooo,” her mother shrieked as she jumped out of her chair and tore at her hair. She had arrived moments before to wait with those who loved Lynnet while her husband was gone to the king.

  Isolda made the sign of the cross. Evelyn broke into racking sobs. Matilda flung herself into Geoff’s arms.

  “Oh, no. That can’t be true. They can’t have done such a despicable thing.”

  “Desperate men protect their own well-being,” Geoff said, pressing her head against his shoulder. “She was a witness against them.”

  “That beautiful creature destroyed,” Evelyn murmured, misery making her voice quiver.

  “I’ll go to the chapel to pray for her soul,” Isolda said. She walked past the still-opened door, slowly, as if one of the walking dead.

  “We’ll leave this benighted abode,” Lady Durwyn said, “as soon as our daughter’s remains are recovered.”

  Geoff unclasped Matilda’s hold and gently set her away from him. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

  “I’d better get back to the Hall,” he said. “Basil is like a raging beast.”

  The sheriff bent his back into the task. He was knee-deep in cold, murky water near the Water Gate. Bottom silt, stirred up by the searcher’s feet, made it impossible to see even an inch under the surface. But his task required precision, not sight. He needed to probe the river’s depth inch by inch.

  He chose this slice of riverbank near the Gate, believing that a hired hand would take the easy way out. He assumed Lynnet’s assailant had sneaked past the guard and slipped his burden into the water as quickly as possible.

  A multitude of footprints on the riverbank made it impossible to agree on where she had been discarded into the murky water. Instead, Basil had to work his way cautiously downstream, hoping that her body hadn’t been dragged out into the current and swept away.

  Muscles rippled across his back. The constant motion of flinging the heavy iron grappling hook out into the river, then pulling it back along the river bottom to the bank, tested his reserves of strength. Animal carcasses, broken furniture and pieces of wrecked boats were his only salvage so far. With each toss, he both feared and hoped he’d recover Lynnet. He worked with a fierce passion. At day’s end, he wanted his body so exhausted, his mind so tired, he wouldn’t remember.

  “Basil. You’ll kill yourself at this pace.”

  The sheriff looked up to see Lord Geoff coming towards him.

  “You stink to high heaven.” Geoff waved his hand in front of his nose. “Let the hired men do this gruesome task. Come away with me. Lord Otheur sent word for you to join him in interrogating your brother and Courbet.”

  Basil adamantly shook his head.

  “Send my regrets.”

  “You’ll jeopardize your position.”

  “None of that matters anymore.”

  Geoff turned and started back towards the castle.

  “I’ll word your regrets in such way that you can change your mind.”

  “I won’t. I failed to protect her. I’ll not fail her now. I’ll find her, even if I have to live on this riverbank and search for the rest of my days.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Shivering despite the overly large, thick-wool, male clothing she was wearing, Lynnet sat huddled in the back of the lurching cart. She was excited to be traveling back to the Tower, drawing ever closer to Basil.

  When the men had gotten the barge of dung to the farming community on the outskirts of London, they had taken her to their houseboat. There, they gave her dry clothing, fed her and were now acting as her bodyguards en route to the king’s castle.

  The rickety cart, drawn by a slow-moving horse, made its bumpy way over ruts caused by ice and thaw. The driver and the horse were familiar with this route from carrying freshly slaughtered meat along this road to the Tower three times a week.

  It was good fortune indeed that the driver was a friend of the boatmen. Because of this, he was willing to wait for compensation until arrival at the Tower. Slow as the cart may be, it was still faster than rowing upstream. Besides, she quaked at the thought of any more water beneath her.

  Since his friend refused to go to the Hall to eat, Lord Geoff lugged the basket of food and drink to him. Geoff also carried old clothing and boots. He hoped to convince Basil to leave the waters of the Thames long enough to warm himself at a courtyard fire.

  “My impossible friend,” Geoff yelled out as he got closer to the riverbank, “since you won’t go to the food, I’ve brought the food to you.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You can’t help Lynnet if you’re too tired to think straight. You might overlook something vital.”

  Geoff waited for the logic of the argument to sink in. He feared he’d lost when Basil didn’t budge.

  “Stop being stubborn. Come to the courtyard. There’s a big bonfire going.”

  Basil just stood in the water looking lost.

  “I’ve brought dry clothes and warm food. If you rest awhile, you’ll be the better for it.”

  For a few moments, Geoff considered turning away in defeat. Eventually, Basil tossed the iron grappling hook onto the embankment at the place where he had finished searching and dragged himself up out of the water, exhaustion evident in his slow movements.

  “You stink, my friend. I’ll draw some water from the well so you can wash before changing clothes.”

  Dripping mucky sludge, Basil followed him with slow steps.

  “You’re a good friend,” the sheriff said quietly. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “To help Lynnet, you must preserve your strength.”

  “You’re right. Let’s sit and eat.”

  The journey back to the Tower allowed Lynnet too much time to ponder. The more she thought, the less she could see why a vigorous man like Basil would tie himself to a wife with limited sight. Bad enough that she’d need help to run his household and prepare his food. Worse yet, she’d need help just to keep their children safe.

  What does he get out of such a marriage?

  It wasn’t like her angry parents would help them financially.

  She pressed her hands against the side of her temples, her elbows on her knees. Jumbled thoughts created pressure, starting her head to ache. She massaged her temples, closing her eyelids as if a sighted person needing to block the light.

  When in the water and fearing death, she believed marrying Basil was her only reason to survive. On dry land, second thoughts reigned—she’d be a burden. Perhaps the greater love was to let him go.

  A great depression of spirit fell over her.

  “I would have married her,” Basil said, his heart black with grief. “I’d made up my mind to ask her.”

  Now that he was warm and dry and replenishing his body with food, Basil felt the urge to explain about Lynnet. He and Geoff were sitting in the courtyard on the stone platform used to rest buckets of water drawn from the well. Geoff had laid a cloth between them with bread, cheese, meat and bladders of ale spread out on it.

  “She would have married you,” Geoff said, chewing on pork rind. “Despite her parents.” He licked his fingers.

  Basil reached for a hun
k of cheese.

  “I only realized I was in love when she went missing.”

  “That happened to me,” Geoff said as he picked up a chicken leg. “I listed every logical reason not to marry Matilda, including my family’s rejection of her. It was only when I thought I’d lost her that I realized the only important thing was our love.”

  Basil nodded his head in understanding. He, too, had done this. That was before he allowed his heart to take over.

  “My quarters are small compared to what Lynnet is used to. It wouldn’t have been easy for us.”

  “The way she brightened this past week when you came near, I don’t think she’d have cared.”

  Basil bent over, elbows on knees, palms on his temples and his fingers entangled in his hair. Underneath a sick heart was rage. His half-brother was one of the men who destroyed his happiness.

  “I would have done my best to see she was comfortable. Isolda would have helped run the household.”

  “And Evelyn would never have abandoned her,” Geoff said. “That woman is like a mother to Lynnet.”

  When he heard footsteps, Basil looked up and saw a soldier coming towards them. The man stood at attention to report.

  “Baron Otheur sends word,” the soldier said solemnly. “The count confessed he had the lady rowed miles downstream. She was thrown overboard in the middle of the river so that she would not be found near the Tower by any search party.”

  Basil jumped up from the stone shelf, dragging the cloth and the food to the pavement with him. He threw back his head, fists aimed at the sky.

  “I’ll wring his worthless neck if the king does not cut it off first.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The cart had entered through one of the Tower gates from the road some minutes back, but the guard had directed them across the courtyard to the Water Gate where the search was centered. Lynnet heard the shouting as they rounded the base of the Tower.

  “What’s going on?”

  “A bunch of armed men just came out of the Tower,” the man at the reins said. “Another man is shaking his fists at the sky and shouting, but I can’t hear what he’s saying because of the noise.”

 

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