Stephen’s frown deepened. Was this man saying he had no choice but to relent to his daughter’s childish wishes? His lips pursed. Nay. This was a lie, he was sure. And that part of running away? “Say that again.”
Althenson looked bewildered. “Say what again, milord?”
“All the days she was with you, she did not run away?”
“Aye, milord.”
’Twas a slight contradiction to what this man had said earlier. He’d said he’d thought Rowena had run away, but now he saw that she’d been kidnapped by Lord Taurin. In fact, twice he had said she’d run away. He sounded as though he’d never considered she might have done so. “Milord, is it true that she has a child?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Lady Josane told me, milord.”
Stephen stared at the man, whose throat bobbed once. The maid nearby hardened her glare. Nay, Stephen told himself. Josane wasn’t given to chattiness with anyone. She may not like the girls under her care, but she would not gossip about them. Besides, she’d caught Stephen’s fierce look when he’d ordered her to see to Althenson’s comfort. She would give as little information as possible, because she would see this man as beneath her station and not worthy of conversation beyond what was barely necessary.
This man had just lied to him twice in the span of a few breaths. Stephen was sure of it, even without Rowena’s careful observations. He had made a career of reading situations, and if this man was trying to deceive him right now, what else had he lied about?
The whole fabricated tale of Rowena’s being kidnapped? On the morrow, he was to listen to this man’s sorry story of losing his beloved daughter. ’Twould be full of more lies, he was sure.
Still feeling the maid’s harsh stare on his face, Stephen took the tray from her and set it on the dais. He quickly dismissed the young woman. He would talk with her later. Right now, he had more important things to do. To Rowena’s father, he snapped, “Return to your pallet. We will speak later.”
As the man left without an answer to his question, Stephen grimaced and returned to his maps. The men had searched the surrounds. Would Rowena go to the west, to confront the man who’d attacked her?
Nay, not with Andrew. She would go to where she felt safe—
“What have you found out?”
Stephen looked over as his sister swept into the room. “I have discovered that Rowena’s father is not what he seems,” he said tersely.
Josane rolled her eyes. “I could have told you that!”
Stephen tipped his head. “Why the sudden turnaround? You looked surprisingly smug when he wanted to present his story.”
Josane frowned. Stephen knew contrition when he saw it, though ’Twas a surprise to see it on Josane’s face. “’Tis true. I wanted Rowena to be the liar, because she has wrapped you around her finger.” She sighed as if life was easing from her like air from old bellows. “But ’tis wrong to think that way. And watching her father has changed my mind.”
“How so?”
“When you left him in my care, he was the one who looked quite smug.” She walked over to the table and tilted her head to peer at the maps. “I gave him a small chamber down the corridor, and when my maid and I returned with a blanket, I noticed the drinking flask I had left was missing. I ordered my maid to search his things whilst I distracted him. She found it tucked in a secret pocket in his cloak. He’s a thief, Stephen.”
Ah, so that was the other thing the maid had wanted to say, Stephen thought. He should have had her tell him while he had the chance.
“And,” his sister went on, “he did not once ask to see Rowena. He did not even ask a thing about her. Does that sound like a loving father to you?”
It appeared Josane had inherited the same reasoning skills as he. But it did not explain how he knew Rowena had a child. “He lied twice to me. First, he said that Rowena had never run away, the opposite of what he’d said earlier. And he said you told him about Andrew. Did you volunteer that information?”
Josane took Stephen’s cup and poured hot broth into it. As she handed it to him, she lifted her brows haughtily. “Do I look as if I would chat with him?”
He accepted the cup. “Nay.”
“Then I did not.” She pursed her lips as she shook her head. “Stephen, I know I warned you about growing soft away from London, but you must forgive me for that. I fear I have not wanted to stay here for a long time, and ’tis making me bitter.”
“Where do you want to go? London?”
“Nay. I want to return to Gilles’s estate in Normandy. I am homesick for it. It has been my home for years.”
Gilles. As Stephen drank, he pondered Udella’s claim about Gilles’s parentage. But ’twas of no import now that Rowena was missing.
“Why all this fuss over a girl, Stephen?”
He did not look up from his drink. “Because I pledged to protect her and now she’s gone.”
Josane took his cup and refilled it. “Well, consider this, Stephen. In Rowena’s eyes, you have failed to protect her. So she has returned to the only place she feels safe. Where did she run to before?”
“Colchester, but the townsfolk didn’t want her. The only reason she chose that ’twas because a group of merchants were traveling that way.”
“Think, Stephen. That midwife who came with her to settle her here, and who protected her after she came from that area, is the one she’s gone to. She has returned to the woman, not the town.”
He mulled it over. “Aye, I know where she would go. Where she knows she will be safe.” He called out to his squire, demanding any male servants available to come immediately. A stable boy and the thatcher arrived.
The thatcher? Stephen grimaced at how someone, Gilles probably, had brought in the villagers to assist in the search. But neither male in front of him was suitable for the task.
Again, Josane took the cup from his hand. “Go after her, Stephen,” she said softly. “Wherever this place is, ’tis where your heart is now.” She smiled. “You say you only want to protect her because she is bound to your estate, but ’tis not the whole truth, is it?”
He glared at her. His foul expression rolling off her like water off a duck’s wing, she continued, “And forgive me for not approving of anything you’ve done lately. I have ached for Normandy and for something special in my marriage. Gilles and I have no children, and ’tis only because there is no love between us. Our marriage wasn’t that kind, and I fear it has worsened. Gilles is different now, more secretive and spending far too much time on his work with the Saxons. But you have a chance for happiness.” She paused. “And I...I didn’t want you to have something I didn’t have. ’Twas petty of me to think that way, and I’m sorry for it. And I am sorry for blaming you for Corvin’s death. I’ve thought long of it these last few days, mayhap because the babe has been here and I remember Corvin as a child. I could have also lost you as we lost Corvin. That was not because you did something wrong. Nay, ’twas a Saxon sword that killed him, not you. And the more I thought of that, the more I knew I wanted to go home to Normandy and not face these people anymore.”
Josane drew a restorative breath. “But that is my life, not yours. So, go, find Rowena. I will manage the manor in your absence.”
His heart thumped in his chest. “Thank you. And when I come back with Rowena, we will discuss your return to Normandy. Our parents would like to see you again.”
“And I could help our mama understand why ’tis wrong to blame you. Now go!”
Stephen pressed his lips to his sister’s warm cheek before striding out.
After retrieving his sword, he went straight to the stable, where Gaetan was already preparing Stephen’s courser. The saddle he chose was a lightweight one, and the bridle was already secured on the stallion’s large head. The animal stamped his feet impatiently.
When Stephen leaped onto his mount, his weight agitated the beast further. Stephen steadied him by circling the boy, who fearfully eyed the huge animal he didn’t completely trust.
“I will head east toward Colchester, stopping at Dunmow Keep on my way,” he said, accepting a dagger from the boy. “Should Rowena be found, I want someone to catch up with me immediately.” He then galloped out of the stable.
* * *
Rowena crept forward, hugging her son close in case he awoke. The flickering campfire had attracted her from afar, and she made her way stealthily through the forest toward it. She accidentally snapped a twig and froze, with her head down and body hidden, until she was sure the men in front of her had not heard her over the crackling fire.
Still hidden in the trees, she lifted her head and watched three men as they sat around the fire. One man, whose back was to her, coughed loudly. Though their words were spoken in low tones, they rang clearly through the night. They were Saxons, discussing the division of some money. One, the man who coughed too much, held the purse strings, she thought, for the others were asking when their shares would come.
They leaned toward each other, heads close, and their voices lowered until she could no longer hear them. Finally, two of the men stood and wandered into the woods for a moment. One returned to sit on a mossy log and pick up the conversation.
The third was cooking a rabbit over the fire, turning it on a makeshift spit. The alluring scent of seared meat reached through the trees to fill Rowena’s nostrils. Poaching game was forbidden in the forests, but Rowena knew ’twas done more often than not. King William’s forests were too vast to be successfully guarded all the time. The other man began to scrape the rabbit’s hide with his knife.
Rowena shifted to ease a stiff muscle in her back. She peered hard at the pair, trying to identify them, but with the flickering firelight, their faces were nothing but distorted expressions.
All she wanted was to know which way, if any, they planned to go. ’Twould decide her own route. But they said nothing of their journey. Only one thing was certain. They would not be traveling tonight, which meant she could mayhap put another mile of road in before resting again.
She eased back as quietly as possible. Time to move on.
Then she turned.
A hand clamped over her mouth as an arm swung around to pin the slumbering Andrew to her.
She’d been caught.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Stephen galloped his mount for the first quarter mile, then reined him in. ’Twas hard on the beast, and he could easily roar right past Rowena and not even know it.
He gritted his teeth. Something about her made him lose all sensibility. In London, he prided himself on remaining cool and detached from all emotion, focusing only on the king’s safety. What was it about that tender, pale woman that made him such an addled fool?
Was Josane right, though she didn’t say the word? Did he love her? Aye, he knew he was beginning to care for Rowena, but was he even capable of loving? He’d long since closed off his heart. How could he expect himself to love when he’d been responsible for his beloved brother’s death?
Was he? His heart squeezed as he considered Josane’s words. She had decided not to blame him anymore.
So, could he also stop blaming himself? His heart squeezed. He just couldn’t.
Stephen’s thoughts wandered back to his sister. Her marriage was unraveling like a poorly sewn chemise giving in at the slightest pull and tug. Gilles was spending more and more time dealing with Saxons and less at home, where he should be.
Ahead, the sparse trees thickened, and in the full moon’s light, as it began to set, he spied a simple signpost, the whitewashed letters practically aglow. When he pulled his horse to a halt, he saw the sign read, Haingheham 20 miles, Colcestra 30 miles, Melforda 15 miles.
He had forgotten about this fork in the road. Hedingham and Colchester, he translated from the ancient Saxon language. They were on the same sliver of a road. Long Melford was to the left, a road much better to walk along.
Stephen hesitated. Rowena had Andrew, and because of him, several days’ travel ahead to get to Dunmow, which lay before Colchester. But the road was barely a dirt path and the forest thick and dangerous, harder to walk with a babe. Melford was closer and the road better traveled.
Which would she take?
His courser anxious to move again, Stephen gripped the reins. He had to decide, and quickly, for he didn’t want to waste time. Should he take the Colchester route, Rowena could easily reach Melford before he realized she was not on that road. If he took the way to Melford, she could become lost in the difficult path that was supposed to be the way to Colchester.
Yet, she’d have had to come that way to Kingstown. ’Twould be more familiar to her.
His horse turned toward Melford, preferring the wider route.
Lord, give me wisdom.
Stephen shut his eyes, then after a moment’s breath of time, he swung his horse to the right. Rowena would go to her friend and a dangerous path would not stop her. She was not one to shirk a difficult task or take the road better traveled.
* * *
Rowena fought off her assailant, awakening Andrew, who screamed his own protest.
“Silence, woman, or I will slice off your head!”
She stilled immediately and found herself being dragged through the trees until her captor reached the campfire. There, he tossed her onto the ground.
Rowena threw out her hands to prevent falling on Andrew. His screams rent the night air.
“’Tis a woman?” one man called out as he stood. “We’re being followed by a woman and her brat?”
Her captor hauled her up and yanked off the hood of her cloak, revealing her pale hair. “Nay, not any woman, but the one I told you of. Rowena.”
She spun at his voice and gasped. Her attacker! The man she’d drawn on the parchment for Stephen! The one Stephen had searched for and who had escaped.
Lord in Heaven, protect me! Stephen, find me!
Andrew screamed even louder. She huddled down, trying to soothe him, shaking all over and knowing he would sense her fear and continue his screams.
“This is that woman? Why is she following us?”
Hundar prodded her with his foot. “Why did you follow us?”
“I–I didn’t. I have run away from Kingstown.”
“Going where?”
“To Dunmow Keep. I have friends there.” She continued to bob Andrew in a vain attempt to soothe him.
“Why are you running away? You would have a good life at the manor.”
“Why did you attack me?”
Leaning forward, Hundar pressed a knifepoint to her throat. “Answer me!”
“I would not have a good life at the manor! My father has come for me, and I don’t wish to return to my home. He sold me before.”
Hundar scoffed as he grimaced as if in pain. “Sold you? ’Tis an unlikely story.”
“’Tis true!” She eased away from his blade as she looked him up and down. “You’re injured.”
“A little stiff, but no Norman soldier will ever best me in a good fight. I was ready for him.”
She gasped. “You escaped Lord Stephen’s men as if you knew they were coming!”
The man laughed, then fell into a fit of phlegm-filled coughing again. Sweat beaded on his face as he spat. When he was finished, he said, “Like Lord Stephen, I have my spies.”
With Andrew settling, Rowena peered up at Hundar. He sweated so much. Was he ill? “I don’t understand. I don’t know you. Why did you attack me?”
“For the coins. I have been well paid.”
“We have been well paid, Hundar,” one of the men corrected him. “Remember we helped you.”
“You’ve done no
thing!” he snapped at the other two. “Be thankful for what I give you!”
“I want it now,” one growled.
“You’ll get it when I see fit to give it to you. Look, we have more than coins now. We have the woman.”
The one cooking the rabbit stood. “And what would we do with her? You hired us to hide you and swear to your innocence if necessary. I won’t kidnap anyone.”
“You’ll do as I say!”
The cook threw down the poker he held. “Nay! You’ll not change the agreement.”
“Think, Hundar!” the other man said. “We cannot just kidnap her and then let her go so she can finger us. And I won’t be killing my own kind. She’s a Saxon, and by the looks of that babe, she’s had enough problems with Normans. We should leave her be.”
“You’ll both do as I say!”
“Then pay us now and be done with us,” the first man said. “I won’t have anyone’s blood on my hands. And I won’t have you holding the purse strings like a Norman overlord.”
Hundar grabbed Rowena’s arm to yank her closer. The man’s sweat and filth overpowered her, and she gasped at the stench. His arms were thin but sinewy, like the ancient vines that covered the south side of the chapel. He continued to cough in her ear. “You’ll do as I say, or this woman’s death will be on your heads, do you understand? I’ll swear you killed her, not me! See what Lord Stephen does then!”
Rowena wrenched free and drove the heel of her palm hard into his nose. He cried out and dropped his dagger. The two others leaped on him to scramble for his sack of coins, but in the dirt and darkness, they struggled to find it.
Abruptly, a loud whinny cut the air, and through the brush and trees sprang a huge horse. Rowena lunged out of the way as a long Norman sword arced downward to slice into one man’s side. He screamed, then turned and staggered painfully into the forest. Hundar still hunkered down, his hands covering his face. The cook backed up. The rider turned his mount and the animal kicked the cook hard. The man landed on the outer edge of the fire, singeing his back.
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