Thankfully, Jordan filled her in. It should have been obvious when Sir Tristan and his men hightailed it to the keep, but he told her that Sir Leo passed it around that a messenger had come in the night. Jordan was of the opinion that Drayton was so arrogant and so skilled at deceit that he could easily sit with Sir Walter each night, all the while waiting to see if his betrayal had worked.
“But why haven’t you spoken up about his abducting you? About overhearing everything? About the underground hiding spot? Why stay in hiding?”
He’d shrugged. “Leo isn’t sure anyone would believe me. And even if I showed Sir Walter where I was kept, there’s nothing to link it to Drayton. That’s why we’re waiting to see what happens at Dernier Keep. If Tristan can take enough prisoners and get one of them to confess, that will be enough. Then I can stop skulking around.”
She had a feeling there was more to it than that, as if he were hiding something. His brow had furrowed and he’d cleared his throat a dozen times when she’d asked where the underground lair was. She’d only been dying of curiosity and hadn’t meant to upset him.
Three days had dragged by. Why wasn’t there word from Dernier yet? She curled her hands into fists when Anne had told her last night that Lord Drayton had offered to send some of his men to Dernier, and wasn’t that chivalrous of him? First helping to defend Grancourt and then the keep? It seemed to Anne he really wanted to be part of the family. It seemed to Marjorie that she wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue for much longer and had only said she thought Lord Drayton was too unctuous.
She tore her gaze from the stained glass. It seemed Jordan wasn’t coming to the chapel that day. She felt bad for being disappointed and settled in to say another quick prayer. She couldn’t afford to have the tiniest sin on her head if she stood a chance to fight her madness. She was surprised and pleased to find Jordan in the next pew when she looked up and wondered if she needed to ask forgiveness for that as well. It was all so tiring, going mad.
She was going to sneak away without speaking to him though it hurt to do it. This was a place for prayer and contemplation, not a place for her to eagerly await the man she had feelings for. As she edged her way out of her pew, he looked up and smiled. She sat back down, returning it.
“Your face looks better,” she lied.
“In a house of God?” he asked, shaking his head.
“What?” she asked.
He grinned. “Telling fibs about my face. It looks as bad as yesterday.”
“I thought you might not come today,” she said shyly. She’d never been shy before, but it didn’t disgust her the way her weaknesses usually did.
“I had to stay away because Drayton was wandering around outside. I thought he might come in so I kept hidden until he left.”
“He wouldn’t dare come in here,” she said. “He’d turn to ash at once, surely.”
“That would be too easy an end for him,” Jordan said, shaking his head. “I want to thank you for inviting me here. It is a big comfort to me.”
“I know my opinion doesn’t matter to you,” she said, risking a look in his eyes. He gazed back at her solemnly. “But I don’t think what you did was wrong. I’ve spent my whole life complaining about knights being savages, but I owe my whole life spent in safety and comfort to them. You were defending yourself, and probably helped save Sir Tristan’s land as well.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. “About your opinion not mattering. Of course it does. I appreciate what you just said. Very much. And I hope you’re right about Tristan’s land. When will we hear something?” he asked as impatiently as she felt.
“I’m on pins and needles waiting. And Anne is growing more and more fond of that scoundrel all the while. I don’t know how to sway her feelings without telling all that I know.”
Before he could offer any helpful words, the door swung open, letting the outdoor light into the dim, calm chapel interior. It was Sophie, hurrying in and sitting in the pew next to Marjorie. Sophie nodded quickly at Jordan before taking her hand.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she said. Marjorie couldn’t tell from Sophie’s face if the news was good or bad. She mostly looked harried and out of breath. “More visitors are on their way. An advance rider just arrived.”
“Oh, this is horrible,” Marjorie said. Sophie nodded miserably. “Who is it, did you hear?”
“Yes. Brace yourself. It’s Sir Harold.”
Marjorie felt the blood drain from her face. “Sir Harold? Of Kings Way Keep?”
“None other.”
Marjorie jumped to her feet, pushing past Sophie. She ducked a quick curtsy to Jordan. “I have to find Anne, see if she’s heard. Oh, why now?”
As she raced to find Anne to see if she knew about their soon-to-be guests, her initial dismay subsided. At first, she hadn’t wanted Anne’s tender heart to be rattled by the appearance of someone from her past. Especially not that someone. But the closer she got to Anne’s chamber, the more she thought it might be exactly what her tender heart needed at the moment. If the devil himself could turn Anne’s head from Lord Drayton, she’d welcome him with open arms. She sighed, having one more thing to ask forgiveness for.
Chapter 17
Jordan pretended to be deep in prayer, hoping his sister would leave. She didn’t, and he felt her eyes boring through the side of his head.
With a sigh, he turned to her. “Who’s Sir Harold?”
She stuck out her tongue in disgust at the mention of the name, then frowned at him. “What are you doing in the chapel? You’re supposed to stay put in Leo’s room until everything’s settled.”
“I only leave the room to come here and I’m careful that no one sees me,” he said, sick of her constant fretting over him.
He’d proven he could take care of himself in their new time, not that she’d ever know about it. He wanted her to back off. He must have hit just the right tone and angry face combination because she nodded meekly. He remembered all the times growing up that he’d snarled at her when she’d come into his room for something. Those were the kinds of things he’d thought about when he thought she was dead. He softened his face and motioned for her to lead the way out of the chapel.
“You’re probably right. Drayton would never come in here.”
He chuckled. “Marjorie said the same thing. That he’d turn to ash if he tried.”
“You and Marjorie best buddies now?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You know no one’s supposed to know you’re back.”
“Marjorie’s not going to tell anyone, believe me.” He forced a laugh. “A couple months in medieval times and you’re as nosy as Mom about my love life.”
She came to a halt so fast he thought her slippers might have made a screeching noise on the stone floor. “Love life?” she gasped.
Well, he’d asked for that with his stupid slip. “Not love life. I just meant she was always asking me about the girls I knew.”
“Do you think of her as a girl?” Sophie asked, still incredulous.
“I am aware she’s a female human,” he said sarcastically, wishing she would drop it.
The fact of the matter was he hadn’t given much thought to how he felt about Marjorie. A quick investigation told him he felt compassion for her, being dragged around by Lyra. He still didn’t know why she’d gone to the woods that second time, since he hadn’t summoned Lyra. It bothered him as much as he was thankful for it. There wasn’t much chance he would have made it back to the castle without her. After compassion, he felt something like gratitude. She didn’t despise him for being a killer. She had tried to ease his mind of that burden more than once. And last of all, he actually liked her. She was clever and sweet. She was worked to the bone by the castle daughters, his own sister bossing her around. Yet, he never saw her complain. And she was surprisingly brave in the face of Lyra continuing to possess her. The more he thought about that, the angrier he got, but didn’t know how to confront the witch without summoning her, which meant an
other surefire possession.
“Okay, stop scowling. It looks like it hurts. Just remember Marjorie might be the one who got us into this mess in the first place.”
He stopped scowling, glad Sophie took his look for annoyance at her and not his rage against Lyra. “Marjorie has feelings,” he said. “Deep feelings. If she did ask for the curse it was because something awful must have happened.”
She stopped at the doors of the chapel. “Don’t fall for her,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders, another mom-like affectation she’d acquired.
“Sophie,” he warned.
He wasn’t about to reassure her he had none of those feelings for Marjorie. It wasn’t her business and he suddenly wasn’t sure he didn’t have those feelings for Marjorie. So what if he did?
When they got back to Leo’s room, she told him she had to help prepare for the newest guests. He looked about as pleased about Sir Harold’s visit as Fay had looked when Drayton’s arrival had been announced. Jordan realized his sister had never answered his question and asked again who Sir Harold was.
Once again, she made a face. “He’s not as bad as Drayton, but not much better. He was here last time and did something unspeakable to me.” She crossed her arms and shivered.
He tightened his fists. “What did he do?” And why hadn’t Leo beaten the stuffing out of him for it? Had it been so terrible she hadn’t felt she could tell Leo? “What was it?” he repeated, his new killing instincts ignited, making his blood pound in his temples.
She slumped. “After Anne died the last time, he asked me to marry him.”
“God, Soph, can you learn the meaning of words before you use them? I thought he actually did something unspeakable.” His adrenaline raced and made him feel sick. He thought he’d been getting better but images of the dead man—the man he’d killed—were there as plain as Sophie’s abashed face.
“Sir Walter actually considered it,” she said. “And now with Leo’s mother doing what she did … I’m scared he won’t give Leo his permission. And Leo won’t ask until everything’s settled with his mother, which won’t happen until Tristan gets back. Either way, there’s a chance Father, sorry, Sir Walter won’t believe Leo wasn’t part of it. Then I’ll lose him.”
“No, you won’t. You know the truth. Who cares what Sir Walter thinks?”
She groaned. “Don’t you get it yet? Permission is everything in this time. I have to do what I’m told.”
He rolled his eyes at that. She was still the goody two-shoes. “If it means losing Leo, you might have to break the rules for once. Just run away with him if it comes to it.”
“We can’t. We’d be outcasts. Shunned. The marriage wouldn’t be recognized and I’d be a fallen woman. If Father thinks Leo was involved or even just complicit with his mother, there might be action against him by the crown. He could lose his land or worse, get executed.”
“Unfortunately, everything your sister says is true,” Leo said.
Jordan sat down on the edge of the bed, head swirling. “This place sucks,” was all he could manage to say to her passionate outburst.
She nodded forcefully. “I know. But we’re stuck here so we have to play along.” She opened the door to leave, but turned back, eyes bright with fury. “So play along. Don’t give Drayton another chance to kill you.”
After she slammed out of the room, he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling beams until his eyes crossed.
*
The weather was gloomy so the ladies moved their sewing party to a corner of the great hall near the fire. Anne’s cough was back with force, but she insisted on helping them with the preparations. Despite all the arguments from Marjorie, Fay, and Sophie, she refused to stay in her room. Marjorie suspected Anne was more nervous than she was letting on about her former love coming to the castle. Marjorie wished she could erase those memories from Anne’s head, and her own as well. His visit couldn’t be good for her health and Marjorie made a point to ask Jordan if he had any different medicines when she took him his supper that evening. For the past two nights, she’d been intercepting the serving boy who was supposed to take the tray and leave it outside Sir Leo’s door. With threats and bribes, she’d secured his promise not to tell anyone what she did.
She’d only wanted a glimpse of him to make sure he was all right since he’d stopped going to the chapel. But that first night, he’d invited her to keep him company. Begged, really, saying he was going crazy being stuck in there alone. She certainly could understand that, and stood respectably in the doorway while he ate and chatted. Last night, he’d laughed at her and cajoled until she sat down across from him and ate the bits of his meal he offered. She’d asked again why he was stuck up there alone. She had faith that Sir Walter would take his claims seriously and she wanted badly for Lord Drayton to get his comeuppance sooner rather than later. Or never, as she was beginning to fear.
Jordan had sighed and pushed his plate away. “I want to tell you, Marjorie, but I can’t yet. I trust you, but I promised.”
“Then you must keep the promise and I shall stop being so inquisitive.”
Oh, she did like him more and more each day and almost pricked herself with the needle, she was so lost in thoughts of him. She glanced up to find Sophie and Catherine staring at her.
“What is it?” she asked, fearing they’d been speaking to her and she hadn’t heard. “Did I miss something?” She quickly gathered a few feasible excuses that weren’t related to Jordan in case they accused her of daydreaming.
“You were humming,” Catherine said.
“You never do that,” Sophie reiterated.
“It was lovely,” Anne said, giving the other two a shake of her head. “Don’t make her self-conscious.”
“Ah, was I? It must be …” she trailed off. What? She couldn’t say it was the lovely weather when they’d come inside to get away from the gusty winds and gray skies. “The warmth of the fire,” she finished lamely. Catherine and Anne only smiled and went back to their work but Sophie gave her a long, measuring look before returning to her stitching.
Sophie couldn’t know about her visits to Jordan, could she? No, Jordan would never tell Sir Leo and risk her reputation. He’d assured her more than once it was of the utmost importance to him. Sophie was just odd sometimes. She certainly wouldn’t wish her ill if she did know Marjorie was interested in Jordan. Which she didn’t know, couldn’t possibly. Marjorie was so flustered that when Batty burst through the doors and raced to their gathering spot, she jumped off the bench and dropped her needle. She got down on the floor to look for it and hide her discomfort while Batty babbled on with the news that had brought her there.
“They’ve arrived,” she said breathlessly. “They’re opening the gate right now.”
Marjorie snuck a look at Anne, who now seemed as flustered as she had felt a moment before. Her pale cheeks filled with bright spots of color and she stood.
“Goodness, why is everyone always early. Catherine, will you please clear away this mending? Sophie, make sure the cook is aware. Marjorie, come with me to check that the chambers are ready.”
It was a whirlwind of activity and then they all stood in their ranks while Sir Harold and his men drew up on their horses. Marjorie wanted to hate him for breaking Anne’s heart so thoroughly all those years ago, but she saw how bright and happy Anne looked as he greeted her, telling her she was lovelier than she’d ever been. Her icy heart thawed a little. But only a little. And only because he was infinitely better than wicked Lord Drayton.
She wanted to stay in the great hall and watch them interact with each other, but knew she wanted to see Jordan again more. As soon as everyone was settled and no one would miss her, she’d take him his tray. She liked thinking she was doing a service, keeping the poor, cooped up man company. But she knew deep in that icy heart of hers it was purely selfish.
Everyone entered the great hall, laughing as they found their seats. She was pleased to see Sir Harold seated next t
o Anne instead of Lord Drayton, but it still rankled that Drayton was on the other side of Sir Walter, laughing along with everyone else. Acting like he was already family.
“Goodness, Marjorie, you’ll burn a hole in something with that face.” Batty followed Marjorie’s line of sight and shook her head. “Why do you hate Lord Drayton so much? I think he’s a fine man.”
“You may not think so soon,” Marjorie said darkly, hoping it was true.
As if to make her simple wish a premonition, a page ran into the great hall shouting that Sir Tristan had returned. And he had prisoners. She and Batty shared an astounded look and found a seat out of the way to see what transpired.
“Everything must have gone well at the keep if he’s back,” Batty said, craning her neck eagerly. “And to have caught some of the scoundrels. I hope Sir Walter won’t go easy on them. They’re probably the same lot who attacked the castle. I hope Brom isn’t hurt.”
It was only a matter of moments before a battle weary, road dusty Sir Tristan hauled in two shackled men, shoving them to their knees in front of the high table. Marjorie leaned forward, as eager as Batty to see what happened. To her great disgust, Lord Drayton didn’t seem at all concerned, just as curious as the rest of them.
“These men attacked my land,” Sir Tristan said in a booming voice so all could hear. “They admit to being part of the recent raid on Grancourt and want to beg for mercy in return for information they have. I ask you to hear their confessions, Sir Walter.”
Marjorie was impressed he hadn’t so much as cast a glance at Lord Drayton. He’d given a quick nod to Fay when he first dragged the prisoners forward, then all his attention was directed at the two men at his feet.
“I cannot promise mercy,” Sir Walter said. “But I will hear what you have to say and then decide.” He motioned for them to speak. It took a kick in the back from Sir Tristan to get the first one to start his pleas.
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