Rowena bit her lip. She had put her faith in Stephen, and so she must also believe in Udella and her sincerity. Or could she? Stephen had said he’d been betrayed. But if he suspected Udella, he wouldn’t have asked Rowena to stay here so close to her. “I ran away tonight, but Stephen found me and brought me here,” she blurted out.
“Why did he bring you to the chapel?”
Rowena paused. Stephen must have thought ’twas the safest place. But did that mean he trusted Udella and the chaplain, who would arrive at any moment?
“I don’t know. We found the man who attacked me, but Stephen said this business was not over yet.”
“Who was it?”
“A man from a village west of here. Oh, Udella, ’tis so complicated!” Rowena cried. “Stephen took a purse from the man, but before that, my father arrived here. ’Twas why I ran away, for he’s telling such a tale, I am sure no one will ever believe me! But I didn’t lie! My father sold me to Lord Taurin, and now he’s saying I was kidnapped!”
“Hush, dear. Start again.”
Rowena told her the whole set of events, all garbled and backward and upside down, and she could only hope the old woman followed her words. “And then Stephen took the man’s purse and we returned,” she finished.
“The man had a purse? Was it heavy with coin?”
Rowena frowned at the anchoress. “Aye. And ’twas not a man’s purse, but a fine lady’s one. Why are you focusing on that? More important, I am sure my father will insist I return with him. I fear Stephen will be tired of all the trouble I have caused. I cannot go back, for my father will probably sell me again, or worse, sell Andrew. That was why I ran away!”
“Trust in Lord Stephen’s good judgment, Rowena.” The words were comforting, but the tone bore a curious edge to it. Rowena peered at the woman, but in the dimness, with only two small lamps lit, Udella’s expression was hard to read. Was she worried?
“Rowena, there is something you should know. I didn’t tell you the complete truth with Gilles. He and I spoke—”
Andrew chose that moment to gurgle and coo and stare at Udella with unabashed interest. Rowena waited for the woman to continue to speak, but tears now streamed down her wrinkled face, and she seemed to choke on her words. Finally, she whispered, “I am such a sinner, Rowena. And look at you, fresh with new faith, trying so hard. And your babe is such a sweet child! Makes me long for when I had—” She stopped, then gripped the wall beneath her small door. “Did you hear that?”
Rowena spun, straining to hear beyond the dim chapel, but only the sound of her pounding heart reached her ears. “Nay.”
“I know each sound this estate makes. ’Tis too early for the priest...” Udella gasped, then turned to Rowena, her face a mask of deep concern as she held out her arms. “Quick, Rowena, give me the child.”
Rowena frowned. “Why?”
“For his safety. Hurry!”
She hesitated. Then Andrew perked up, pushing himself to standing as he peered over her shoulder.
Rowena froze. For far too long she’d lived in a stable and learned to rely on the animals’ keen hearing. Andrew’s youthful hearing was also fine. Taking a fast breath, Rowena surged toward the small door and over to Udella. But still, she could not relinquish her child.
“Now, Rowena! Trust me. Oh, my dear, not even my own flesh and blood could force me to hurt a babe!”
Another curious moment. But after kissing him, Rowena quickly handed over her only child. In a single fluid movement, Udella took him and shut the small door as quickly and quietly as she could.
A noise grated behind Rowena and she pivoted sharply. A draft winked out the lamp.
Then a sound she’d heard before. The unsheathing of a sword.
* * *
Stephen tore after the maid and easily caught her at the end of the narrow corridor, directly in front of Gilles’s chamber. The girl cried out as she struggled, “Master Gilles! Please, help me!”
Stephen made short work of subduing her. He spun her and pinned her to the floor with one hand, tearing off his belt to bind her wrists with the other. Finally, the maid dropped to the planks and sobbed quietly.
Footfalls approached and Stephen glanced over his shoulder to see his sister as she hurried close with her lamp. She quickly lit the unlit rush torch nearest Gilles’s door and peered at her brother. “Stephen! Release her!”
“Nay. She bolted and I want to know why. Do you have your keys?”
“Aye.” Josane held up her belt, then examined the set dangling there. She gasped. “Nay, not all of them. One is missing.”
Stephen stood and hauled up the maid by her crooked arm. “I would wager that ’tis the key to my strongbox, isn’t it? And you took your lady’s purse, too. Where is the key? Why did you steal it?”
The girl hung her head. “’Twas not me, milord. I was ordered to. It came with a promise of safety!”
“Who ordered you?”
“Master Gilles! Gilles, my love, come out!”
Josane gasped. “Nay!”
Stephen dropped the girl and she threw herself against Gilles’s door. It remained closed.
Cold anger washed through Stephen and he lifted the latch, but it held fast.
Lord, ease my temper. I need to be as clearheaded as I am in London.
As I am in London? Nay, I need wisdom, Lord.
“’Tis locked from the inside,” Josane whispered.
“Not for long.” Stephen hauled the girl away and stepped back. He drew up his leg and drove it forward. Splinters flew as the door slammed inward to bang against the wall. Grabbing Josane’s lamp, Stephen marched in over the broken wood. “Gilles!”
A sniffle reached them from deep in the chamber. Stephen held the lamp forward. Gilles’s young page, a boy of less than eight years, cowered in the corner. “Nay, milord. He is gone,” he whimpered.
“Where?”
The boy shrugged.
“When?”
“Shortly after you arrived downstairs. I heard you order food and drink. He left then.”
“How long had he been here?”
“He came up here only for a moment in order to take his sword. I was to stay here and open the door only to him.”
Gilles had been downstairs when he arrived? Stephen had delivered Rowena to the chapel because ’twas the best place for her to hide in a hurry. He’d turned his mount toward the stable and noticed the lights behind the shuttered windows on the manor’s main floor. He’d assumed the cook and her maid to be up, and had found them so. But in the kitchen, not near the shuttered windows. Fresh rush lights had lit the corridor outside his office.
The cook would never waste the torches. She lit only the kitchen, for she had no need to roam about the manor.
Gilles had been downstairs... ’Twas wholly possible he’d seen them arrive at the chapel.
He pivoted to face his sister. “Order a guard to watch your maid, Josane, and I want all others in the hall guarded.”
“All others?”
“Aye, especially Rowena’s father. I have not yet dealt with him, but I will.” He grabbed the freshly lit torch and roared down the stairs.
* * *
Master Gilles! The breath of time before the lamp winked out gave Rowena a single glimpse of him.
But it also gave him the same of her.
Rowena dropped to the wide stones below and crawled past the enclosed front pew before trying to squeeze herself under the next one. She could hear Gilles stride up the aisle. He knew this chapel far better than she did, and when he stopped at the altar and faced right, she guessed he knew exactly where to go.
She wasn’t able to crawl under the family pew, so she chose the second one. She banged into it, and the sound bounced around the small chapel, betraying her loc
ation. She scurried under the next one, then the fourth one.
The scrape of metal on stone ruptured the tight silence that followed. Another scrape, then another.
Not knowing where she was, Gilles was plunging his weapon repeatedly under the open pews, hoping to stab her.
Rowena shuffled back, horrified to find she’d reached the end of the pew. She froze.
He was only an arm’s length from her as he prepared to step forward and thrust again. Rowena shut her eyes tight.
“Gilles!”
She threw open her eyes at the sound of the male voice. Torchlight filled the chapel, and from her hiding place she saw Gilles spin away. He growled out a filthy Norman word and moved forcibly to the center aisle.
Rowena lifted her head and gasped. Stephen stood in the doorway unarmed, carrying only the rush torch.
“Leave her alone, Gilles!”
“Nay! She will die, and all in the village will think ’twas by your hand.”
Stephen stepped closer. “And you will see to it that her father will blame me, and dissent will follow. And with an inadequate number of guards here, I will be unable to defend myself.”
Gilles stalked toward him. Rowena slipped free of the bench pew. “It matters little to me if you die or not. I will not mourn you, brother-in-law.”
Stephen held the torch like a sword. “If that is true, then all of this finally makes sense. You wanted only to stir up the villagers against me, right?”
Gilles lunged at him, but Stephen jumped nimbly back.
“I was to hold this estate, not you! ’Twould have been mine if William had not succeeded at Senlac! I am the true heir to Kingstown, not some palace bodyguard! The blood in my veins is far more royal than anything you carry. Royal to Saxons and Normans alike.”
“’Tis my duty and my honor to guard the king and stop dissent in the palace. You should be so lucky to have such a task.”
“Instead I am but a foolish bailiff, forced to pander to your whims.”
He lunged again, and this time, Stephen swung the torch down and then up, dangerously close to the lethal weapon.
The burning end of the rush light scorched Gilles’s hand. He yelped and dropped his sword. Stephen quickly changed hands before he lunged again with the torch held forward. Gilles jumped back, abandoning his sword. Stephen snatched it and immediately swung it up to slice through Gilles’ tunic. He cried out, and with a stumble, tripped backward and fell, cracking his head on the stone floor.
He didn’t move.
Rowena rushed toward him, and Stephen handed her the torch before he rolled his brother-in-law over. The man groaned, and immediately Rowena breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive.
Stephen leaned over him. “Who told you that you were the heir to Kingstown? How do you know this is your father’s birthplace?”
Gilles’s eyes fluttered, then stayed shut. “Barrett. He heard his parents speak of it last year. They disliked that you became their baron.”
“The Barretts dislike too many things!” Stephen growled. “They would also dislike having a coward like you as baron.”
“I would make a finer baron than you!”
“Because you are half-Saxon?”
Gilles winced, probably at the pain in his head. “Aye. Saxon or Norman, I am higher born than you are!”
Rowena glanced over at Udella’s small door, but it remained shut. Was this what she’d wanted to say, that Gilles knew about his heritage? But Gilles had learned it from Bar—
Stephen scowled. “And should I argue that with you, you would remind me that our king is in similar stead as you.”
“I am the true heir of Kingstown, not you, not even the king. And,” Gilles spat out, “I am not one to spy on people like some snake in the grass!”
Stephen leaned closer. “But I would not steal my own wife’s keys and purse to incriminate her!”
Rowena gasped. “He did that?”
“Aye. He wooed her maid and had her do his filthy work for him.”
“Josane isn’t happy here anyway!” Gilles said, the strength in his voice waning. “Whatever the outcome, you would have had mercy on her and sent her home.”
The guards barreled in, and Stephen dragged his groggy brother-in-law to standing and ordered him be taken to the hospice hut and guarded. When they left, Rowena rushed up to him. “Was he the one who paid Hundar to attack me?”
“Aye. They had been close enough to each other to pass along the fever Udella had had. She gave it to Gilles, though I know not when.”
“She says she spoke to him and had lied about it. She was deeply sorry.”
“Gilles suffered only lightly with the fever, but he’d passed it to the courier who took the report of my affairs to Aubrey. Gilles also passed the fever on to Hundar.”
“Hundar’s illness lingers in him.”
Stephen nodded. “I believe Udella knew who would hurt you.”
Immediately, Rowena spun to face the small, tightly closed door that led to her cell. “She has Andrew!”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rowena raced to the cell door and smacked it hard. “Udella! Open this door!”
Stephen rushed up beside her. “Udella! Now!” He turned and sheathed Gilles’s sword.
“Where are you going?” she asked him.
He strode to the chapel door. “Remember I promised I would tear down the wall if she refused to hand over your babe? I will.”
Rowena gasped.
The anchoress’s small door scraped open. Udella, babe in her arms, peered out. “I’m so sorry, Rowena,” she said softly. “I dared not open the door while the fight ensued for fear Gilles would use it to his advantage. Especially if he thought he could grab Andrew. Oh, I have misjudged him terribly! I only wanted to see my family here again. I’m so sorry! Milord, can you forgive me?” She leaned over with the babe.
Stephen looked grim. “Indeed, I can, for we all misjudged Gilles. And I have not been free of sin, either.”
Spotting his mother, Andrew cried and held his hands out. Rowena took him and gripped him tight. “I don’t understand. Why me?”
“He hoped to create dissent in the village. Gilles was sending reports to Aubrey de Vere on how I was failing our king and not finding the rebels. By paying Hundar to attack you using my money, he could make it appear that the rebels here were trying to push me to fight back. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gilles had promised he would shield them from prosecution. But as bailiff, he heard only civil cases. I would send the criminal cases to London, if they affected the king’s sovereignty. There, Gilles has no jurisdiction. He knew that, but hoped that the locals and especially Hundar wouldn’t be aware of it.”
“Why attack me?”
“He guessed I would use you to lure out any troublemakers. Gilles knew what the king had ordered me to do. You were a stranger here with no one to confirm your story that you had been abused by Taurin. He then suggested to the villagers that I protected you because you were aligned with us Normans and had betrayed your people. I suspect he paid Barrett handsomely to help him with rumormongering. ’Twas well conceived because no matter which way I acted, I was condemned in the villagers’ eyes. Gilles also needed a person from outside the village to attack you because you may have recognized one of the people here. Who first heard Gilles approaching?”
Rowena spoke. “Udella did.”
The older woman nodded. “I know each sound this estate makes and each footfall on the yard beyond.” She looked contrite. “I spoke to Gilles last week, after I had recovered from my fever. I had been afraid that I would die this time, and thought about telling Gilles who he really was. I asked for him, but when he came, he was different somehow. Smug and cruel. Though I hesitated to tell him who he was, I did so, but it turned out he already kn
ew. Barrett would have said it to curry favor.” She looked at Rowena. “I allowed you to think that I did not speak with him, but ’twas a lie. When I heard someone approach this chapel, I knew who it would be, for I realized what was happening.”
Stephen nodded. “He must have watched me bring you here, and whilst I checked my ledger and found there was money missing, he crept upstairs for his sword.”
Rowena bit her lip. “Was he planning to kill me?”
“I think so. I had sent him off to find you earlier, but he must have returned some time ago.” His look softened. “We have much to discuss.”
With a nod, she started to walk toward him. He stopped her. “But it should be alone. Allow Udella to care for Andrew a bit longer. There is still one matter I need to see to, and you must also witness it.”
Rowena hesitated. She didn’t want Andrew to fuss too much for the older woman.
“Please, ’tis of great importance that you come with me.”
She looked at Udella. “Is it all right if I leave him with you?” She had no idea what would happen, but...aye, she trusted the older woman. And she trusted Stephen. No matter what might happen, she knew he would always protect her.
But would he love her? Aye, there was trust in their hearts, but was there also love?
Udella beamed. “I would love nothing else than to care for him.”
Stephen led Rowena from the chapel. Once in the manor, he ordered Hundar and his accomplice be brought in. With hands bound and feet tied so close that they could only shuffle, the men arrived in the hall, several guards behind them.
Stephen took Rowena to the dais, where they both sat. She barely perched on her seat as she listened to Stephen order everyone to enter the hall.
She held her breath when her father came in, followed by two guards. Was he also under arrest?
One of the guards forced the defiant Hundar and his friend to their knees. Stephen addressed her father. “Do you know these men?”
Rowena peered hard at Althenson. Looking only briefly at them before staring at Stephen again, he shook his head. “I know neither of them, my lord.”
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