by Hall, Diana
“Our quarry knows this place better than we do.” The thought shrouded Roen with dread. Would his sword arm be strong enough to guard Lenora from the traitor’s knowledge of Woodshadow’s secrets?
Dust and a musty smell permeated the darkness. Taking a few steps forward, he heard the scurry of feet all around him. The dim light that filtered in illuminated a multitude of gleaming red eyes.
A dark cloak draped across the floor. He picked it up and shook it violently. Roaches and millipedes spilled out. Withdrawing from the foul-smelling passage with the cloak, he and Hamlin resealed the bedchamber.
The two knights moved with utmost silence into the hall, filled now with servants, their ears glued to the stone wall outside the master’s chamber. For one long minute no one moved. The snooping serfs jumped and resumed their work when the Lord of Woodshadow cast them an angry scowl. All of them bustled about but leaned their heads toward him, anxious to hear a snippet of gossip.
Wrapping the cloak around his arm, Roen led his second in command to the wardrobe. The boy, Tyrus, pulled at his arm. “Milord, I have a need to speak with ye.”
“Not now, boy.” Yanking his arm free, Roen ordered, “This door stays open. Do you hear me?” The lad nodded. “You stay here in the doorway. Your mistress is to sleep until she wakes. No one goes in that room. And it will be quiet.”
“Aye, milord, but I still—”
The lad’s words fell on thick wood as Hamlin followed Roen into the small, adjoining wardrobe and shut the door. Roen dropped the cloak onto the back of a chair to assess it.
A rich dark wool made up the garment. Several rips and tears, mended with neat, fine stitches, showed long use. Two gold serpents with small garnet eyes form the garment’s clasp. It hung at a tilted angle, the sharp pin in the back bent and twisted.
Roen took the edge of the cloak and ran the material through his hands. The frayed corner showed a rip where it had caught in the passage door. The other end had the corner ripped away. From his pocket he pulled the bit of cloth found on the scaffolding. It fit the cloak and the garment fit the description of the man who had hired the thugs to waylay him.
“’Tis the same.” Hamlin sat in a chair and rested his chin on his elbow. “Why? Why has the man returned, and what good would it do to kill your wife now?”
Stuffing the cloak into his private chest, Roen speculated, “Perhaps he did not intend to kill her.” His companion’s eyebrows wrinkled together. Logic dictated Roen’s words. “The rat died of the drink, but ‘tis a much smaller creature. I think our man wanted another result, for Lenora’s baby to be aborted.”
“But who would stand to gain from such a loss?”
Roen bit the tip of his tongue to keep from blasting out the obvious answer.
Hamlin rose from the chair. “Nay, Roen, I cannot believe it. Beatrice is Lenora’s friend. She’d not conspire in a crime like this.”
“She’s one of the few that know my wife has conceived. If Lenora dies with no heir, she’d stand to gain.”
“But you forget, no one, save us, knows that. Everyone thinks you get all in your marriage. Beatrice could not know the truth. Even you do not know the location of the real contract,” Hamlin countered.
Roen started to pace up and down the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “What piece of this puzzle do I not possess?” He strode from one side of the room to the other. Finally, he stopped, his fists on his hips. “Get Sir Edmund’s man. I think Tom needs to be advised of these new complications.”
“Aye, I’ll bring him here straightaway.” Hamlin exited the room.
Yelling down the hall, Roen barked a command. “Find me the person who brought Lenora tea last night and send up an able-bodied man and a chambermaid.”
He traveled back down the hall to his chamber. Tyrus leaned on the doorway, his back against the frame. He stood at attention when Roen crossed the threshold.
“Milord, now can I talk with ye?” The boy’s voice sounded tired and slightly irritated.
“Later.” A quick glance at his wife put him at ease. She rested, unaware of the danger the night had brought to her.
“Need a cat,” her voice mumbled on. “Red eyes…big cat.”
So the rat had been the reason for the restless night on the cold floor. A smile creased his lips and he kissed her cheek, his thumb massaging the kiss into her skin. When had this woman woven herself into his heart? His fingers played through her coppery tresses. Roen lifted his hand and let the strands of hair fall through his fingers. Whatever riches he might gain in his lifetime, none could compare to the wealth that lay in his bed now.
Tyrus nudged his shoulder. “Lord Hamlin’s in the hall with Tom,” the boy whispered in his ear. “And when you’ve time, Ineed…”
Lenora’s life hinged on the end of this mystery. Without hesitation, he led the men back to the wardrobe. A beefy man stood outside the door with a large woman.
“You.” He pointed to the maid. “After my wife is moved to another room, all the rushes in my bedchamber are to be changed, today. Burn the old ones. Don’t give them to anyone else to use, understand?” The woman nodded, grabbed a bucket on the floor next to her and exited in the direction of his room.
“My wife’s trunks are to be moved to another room. I’ll tell you which one later. Right now, get them out of my room.” The man’s chin dropped, and he made a tsking noise with his lips. Roen paid it no heed. “And one more thing, get me the stonemason.” He opened the door and beckoned Hamlin and the stablekeeper in.
“Eh, now. What’s a-goin’ on ‘ere?” Tom looked from one man to the other.
“I need to know where the original marriage contract is.” Roen did not request, he ordered.
“Why, ‘tis safe enough, I know for a fact.”
“How? Have you seen it recently?”
The man crowed. “That I have. Now tell me what’s goin’ on?”
Roen sighed. “There’s been an attempt on Lenora’s life.”
“As well as my own and Roen’s,” Hamlin chimed in.
The grizzled face paled beneath the stubble. Tom’s eyes lost their lively gleam. “Can’t be. It just can’t be.”
“Well, ‘tis. Last night someone used a secret passage to sneak into our room and tried to poison her. Only by God’s intervention, certainly not mine, was she spared.” Roen combed his fingers through his hair. “No one, save we three, knows the truth of my marriage contract. Who else might know?”
Tom shook his head, his shoulders sagging. “Nay, the secret is kept. But how would anyone know about that passageway? Even your lady is not aware of it. Only Sir Edmund, I and his seneschal used it.”
“Sir Hywel knew of it.” Hamlin clamped his hand to his forehead. “The man is daft. He could have told anyone about it and not remembered doing so.”
Roen gritted his teeth to keep from screaming out his frustration. A knock came at the door. He answered it and Tyrus stepped in.
“Is my wife awake yet?”
“Aye, Lord Roen. That talk I said I was needin’—” Tyrus began.
“Later. I must speak with my wife.” He turned to the men. “Both of you, find me the person who brought Lenora her tea last night. Maybe we can get some answers from him.”
“But, sire, that was me.” Tyrus’s words stopped Roen dead in his tracks. “Well, it were supposed to be me, but it weren’t.” The lad scratched his head and grew thoughtful.
“Make sense, boy.” Roen heard the strain of the night in his voice.
Tyrus pulled out two apples from his pocket and held them out to Roen. “Lady Lenora, she asked me for some tea. When I ran to the kitchen, I remember I ain’t checked her horses like you asked me to. I found these in the bottom of the hay bag. ‘Tis what I been tryin’ to show ye since ye arrived.”
The shiny red objects appeared normal; Roen waited for the boy to explain.
“Smell ‘em.” Tyrus pushed the apples up toward his lord’s face. The pungent odor made Roen grimace.
“They’re bad, but they don’t look bad. Somethin’s in ‘em, and if’n it makes ‘em stink like that, they can’t be good for the horses.”
“You’re right, Tyrus, but what of the tea?” Roen tossed the apples to Tom, who dropped them into a leather pouch at his waist.
“By the time I got back, I peeked into the room, and thought she was a-sleepin’ in the bed. I didn’t see no cause to wake her for tea to help her to sleep when she was already a-sleepin’.” The boy looked at him, clearly expecting him to agree with his logic.
“Aye, but you saw no drink at the table?”
“I did not notice.”
Roen sighed and waved the boy off. “Thank you, Tyrus. Go tell your mistress I’ll be with her shortly.” The boy ran off to do his bidding.
Roen looked at Hamlin. “When will the rest of our men be here?”
“Anytime now. I told them to travel in groups of ten and to take a different way home.”
“Good. When they arrive, I want three men at Lenora’s door at all times. None of hers. We don’t know which of them we can trust.” He turned to the stablekeeper. “Tom, which room here is the most secure? No secret way to enter or leave.”
“There are several, but I’d say the small inner room across from your chamber ‘twould be best. The hall runs straight. Your men would have a clear view of the foyer and can see below by walking a few steps to the upper walk.”
“Then that’s where I intend to move Lenora until we unravel this.” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “That room’s more like a cell than a bedchamber. I suppose she’s not going to take the move well.”
“Will you tell her the truth of the problem?” Tom asked.
Roen shook his head. “Nay, even if she would believe me, my Nora is not one to run and hide. Right now, my first priority is to keep her safe. Tom, find Fenton and have Lenora’s things transferred to the sewing room.”
He left to seek out his wife and prayed somehow he would be able to sort out all the clues. Today he had discovered he cared more deeply than he would like for his wife, and how that had happened still remained a mystery to him. He had a lifetime to discover how, but only if he found out the identity of Lenora’s attacker.
Tom climbed the steps to the loft above the stable. “Are ye here, Cousin?”
“Aye, here I am, Tom,” a voice called from the shadows.
Tom sat down in the hay next to Cervin. “We’ve got trouble. Your plan ain’t a-workin’.”
“What’s happened?”
“’E’s back again, only this time ‘e’s after both the lord and the mistress.”
“Is Lenora all right?”
“Aye, this time, but it were just luck that saved her. We got to go and tell them the truth.” Tom tugged on Cervin’s sleeve.
The man rose, and the cloth around his head fell to his shoulders. Red gold hair shone in the light. He started for the steps, then stopped and put his hand to his heart. His breath came out in tight gasps. “Confound it, another attack.”
Tom supported the weaker man. “Sir Edmund, ye have to relax. ‘Twill make it pass all the sooner and then ye’ll be yer old self once again.”
Clutching Tom’s elbow, he took a deep breath. The seizure passed, leaving him drained. Sir Edmund cursed again the poison that had so weakened his heart.
Tom ran and retrieved an old horse blanket and laid it on the straw for his lord. “Rest a bit, milord. Your girl is safe enough and that husband you picked for her will see she don’t move for now.”
Tom patted the resting man’s hand. His bones ached and his feet hurt, sure signs that things were to get much worse before they got better.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Fenton, what are you doing?” Lenora demanded. Her foggy mind tussled to regain her senses. The insides of her eyelids scratched her eyes and she felt drowsy, despite the night’s sleep.
The burly man hefted her trunk onto his shoulder and grunted. “Not my doin’, Lady Lenora, ‘tis the lord’s orders. I’m to move your things to the room across the hall.”
“Which room?” She twisted her hair into a more manageable braid and used a bit of lace to tie it back.
Fenton gulped several times, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “The little one, across from the solarium.” He backed out of the room quickly. “Remember now, I had nothin’ to do with it.”
Heavens, how many hours had she suffered in the tiny room under her aunt’s tutelage? Why would Roen order her moved there? She pulled a thin blanket around her and peeked down the hall. Goliath greeted her with a cheerful bark, placed his front paws on her shoulders and washed her face with his wet tongue.
“Down, Goliath.” The dog trotted from the room in search of breakfast. Nay, by the light of day, that hour had passed some time ago. Heavens, how long had she slept? When had Roen returned to the keep? She took a step out in the hall
“Back inside, Lady Lenora. You’re not to leave your room,” Crandall warned. The knight dragged his wounded leg and posted himself just outside her door. His voice sounded raspy and dry. “And leave the door open.”
Her hand covered her mouth and bile rose in her throat. This morning she did not blame her condition for the nausea. The fullness of her body had finally betrayed her to Roen. He intended to make her a prisoner. She wanted to collapse on the floor and cry but fought the weakness. Think. There must be some way to spare her child and herself.
Fenton returned and hefted another trunk onto his back. He gave her an apologetic shrug, then shuffled out the door. Beatrice paused to let the servant leave before she entered.
Lenora rushed into her cousin’s arms and whispered in her ear. “I am in sore need of a friend now.” They walked to the balcony to escape the eavesdroppers in the hall.
“He knows about the baby.” Lenora spoke low and kept her eyes on the doorway. Crandall’s back rested on the open door of her room but he did not appear to be interested in her conversation. She whispered to her cousin, “Roen intends to move me to the sewing room. He cannot even abide steeping in the same room with me any longer.” The flicker of love in her heart dampened. The thought that Roen might one day accept her and their child evaporated.
“Have faith, Cousin. I have found us help.” Beatrice smiled through the tears in her eyes.
“How? Who?” Lenora asked.
The blond girl drew close, her voice barely able to suppress her hope. “Geoffrey.” She put a finger to Lenora’s opened mouth. “Sh, I got word to him of your peril.” From her sleeve she pulled a bit of paper. “I found this in the rose garden last night before I retired.”
Lenora put her back to the door and unfolded the missive. Remorse stabbed at her heart. “He writes he has the proof I seek about Roen. All I need do is reach the woods and he will find me.” Lifting her face to meet her cousin’s gaze, she asked, “But, proof of his guilt or innocence? He does not say.”
“Can you still dream of a life with this man, even now as he orders you from his sight?” Beatrice shook her head in dismay. “Have you forgotten his treachery? Lenora, he’s probably responsible for your father’s death. If you won’t think of yourself, then think of your child. Can you risk your baby’s life on a hope?”
Lenora pressed both hands to her eyes. “Nay, I must put aside my heart’s foolish wishes.” Her hands lowered. “But how can I escape this room? There’s a guard outside my door. I wish I could crawl back in bed and sleep till this whole episode was resolved.” Her fist dropped and an idea blossomed. She grabbed Beatrice’s hand and rushed to the bed.
“Watch the door. Make sure Crandall does not look in.” Lenora grabbed the silk pillows from the floor and formed a long bolster. She flipped the heavy blankets back over and chopped at the pillows until satisfied with the shape. Racing over to the last of her chests, she threw open the top. “Listen, there’s not much time. All must be prepared before Fenton returns.”
“There is a visitor to see you, Lord Roen,” the ewerer infor
med him.
“Later.” Roen strode down the hall to his room.
Crandall stood at attention by the door. He favored his left leg. “She’s with the other one, Lady Beatrice.”
Roen entered, the dog at his heels. The animal headed for the bed, then veered off to sniff at a trunk. The rushes remained unchanged and the brown red stain near the bed caused his heart to miss a beat.
Beatrice snapped the curtains around the bed closed and met him halfway. “Lord Roen.” She stopped him before he could reach Lenora. “Your wife is ill. She’s taken to her bed.”
“Ill? She’s not lost the child, has she?” An icy fear gripped him. Maybe she had sipped the tea after all.
“Nay, not that you would care,” Beatrice taunted. She kept her voice low and steered him back to the door. “But Lenora didn’t sleep well last night, and the turmoil this morning has her worn out.”
Fenton grunted as he lifted the last trunk. The man strained to place the large trunk on his shoulder.
“That one is to go to the lower storage room,” Beatrice instructed. She gave Roen a haughty look, reminiscent of her mother. “The small room you have committed her to won’t accommodate all her belongings.” Fenton nodded, and the sweat on his brow stood out in large droplets. He hefted the trunk to a better location and took a hard breath. Goliath jumped up and down around the man’s feet. The dog left, chasing the weary man’s heels.
“I’ll just check on my wife, then be on my way.” Roen started for the bed.
“I do not think the sight of the man who brings her so much grief will soothe her troubled nerves.” Beatrice intercepted him and clutched the sleeve of his shirt. “Your wife will succumb to the stresses around her if you do not give her time to regain her strength.”
The impulse to push the woman aside tempted him, but Lenora and her condition must be the priority. Pregnancy endangered a woman’s life, and he’d not risk upsetting Lenora now in her weakened state. “Very well, but this door stays open. After the midday meal I’ll speak with her and she’ll move to her new room.” Roen stormed out of the room and yelled, “Crandall, send me word as soon as she stirs. I’ll send up a replacement when my troops arrive.”