Love in a Mist

by Patricia Grasso

  “I cannot leave without my pouch of magic—I mean, my valuables.”

  “Make haste.” Giving in required less time than arguing. “Share our plans with no one.”

  Keely hurried inside the house. She saw no one and, gaining her chamber, packed two changes of clothing and her pouch of magic stones into her satchel.

  Before leaving the chamber, Keely paused and touched the dragon pendant she always wore. “Mother, protect my husband and my unborn child.”

  When she returned to the garden, Baron Smythe stood between two horses. “I'll help you mount.”

  “I cannot ride this horse,” Keely said. “’Tis sidesaddled.”

  Willis opened his mouth to argue, but Henry Talbot chose that moment to appear in the garden. Smiling like a satisfied tomcat, the boy sauntered toward them.

  “Henry, run to the stables,” Keely called before Willis could warn her to silence. “Tell Odo or Hew to bring me my saddle.” As an afterthought, she added, “Baron Smythe is entertaining me today with an afternoon ride.”

  Henry glanced at Willis, then dropped his gaze to the satchels. Hiding his alarm behind a smile, he called, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Each second we delay endangers Richard’s life,” Willis snapped, knowing the two giants would never let her out of their sight. “Get on the horse, and be quick about it.”

  Keely worried her bottom lip with her teeth and nodded. Danger threatened all of them, else the baron would not be so nervous. Smythe helped her mount and then leaped onto his own horse. They left Devereux House and rode west in the direction of Shropshire.

  “Keely!” Odo raced into the gardens in front of Henry and Hew. “Where are you, little girl?”

  “Son of a flat-chested bitch,” Henry cursed. “He’s got her.”

  “Maybe the baron did offer to entertain her with an afternoon ride,” Hew said.

  Odo cuffed the side of his brother’s head. “Packed for traveling, you blinking idiot?”

  “Why would Keely send me to fetch her own saddle and then disappear with Smythe?” Henry asked. “She harbors no fondness for the baron, and I don’t trust him.”

  “How will we ever find our little girl?” Hew whined, turning to his brother for guidance. “We don’t even know which direction they went. And there’s four of them but only three of us.”

  “Four what?” Odo asked.

  “Directions! North, east, south, and—” Odo’s slap silenced Hew.

  “If his intent is evil, the beast will take her to his lair,” Henry said.

  “Where’s that?” Odo asked.

  “Smythe Priory, in Shropshire.”

  “Saddle the horses,” Odo ordered Hew. “I’ll gather supplies.”

  “Saddle three horses,” Henry said. “I'm going too.” When the two Welshmen turned to him, he said, “I am her brother.”

  “His Grace—”

  “His Grace isn’t here to approve or to disapprove,” Henry interrupted Odo.

  The giant grinned. “Make haste, my horny young marquess. Our little girl needs us.”

  Twenty minutes later, the two Welsh giants and the fledgling marquess mounted their horses and rode west toward Shropshire.

  * * *

  “Welcome home, my lord,” Jennings said, a smile of greeting upon his usually solemn face.

  “Thank you, Jennings.”

  Richard grinned at the man as he crossed the foyer. Behind him walked Duke Robert and Hal Bagenal, his stepfather.

  “Send my wife to the study,” Richard instructed his majordomo, “but don’t tell her who’s here. I want my homecoming to be a surprise.”

  Jennings nodded and started toward the stairs. At this hour of the day, his mistress either napped or sat near the window in her bedchamber to gaze at the changing sky.

  Richard led his father-in-law and stepfather into the study. The two older men sat down in the chairs before the hearth, but Richard remained standing, facing them and the door. He wanted to see the expression of surprised joy on his wife’s face when she walked into the room. All morning he’d been anticipating the coming night in each other’s arms, and now the moment was almost upon them.

  Richard planned to get rid of Duke Robert and Uncle Hal as soon as possible, then pass the remainder of the day and the night in bed with his wife. Tomorrow was soon enough to begin the tedious task of correcting the errors he’d made on the queen’s personal accounts.

  Five minutes passed. And then ten. Where was Keely?

  The door opened slowly, and Richard pasted his most devastating smile on his face. One second later, his smile drooped. “Where is my wife, Jennings?”

  “She’s gone my lord.”

  Richard jerked to attention, as did his stepfather and father-in-law. “What do you mean?”

  “My lady isn’t in her chamber,” Jennings explained, his worry apparent. “I checked the gardens, but she isn’t there either.”

  “Ask May or June if Keely is visiting with her cousins at the stables,” Richard ordered.

  “They haven’t seen her since before she went outside for her afternoon walk in the gardens,” the majordomo said. “June is quite certain she saw Odo and Hew ride out with the young marquess. That was several hours ago, and Lady Keely wasn’t with them.”

  Richard started for the door. “I’m going to look for her.”

  Duke Robert and Uncle Hal bolted out of their chairs. Both men placed a restraining hand on the earl’s forearms.

  “Attempting escape is unwise,” Duke Robert cautioned.

  “If the guards kill you,” Uncle Hal added, “your mother will dice my innards with a dull blade.”

  “My pregnant wife is missing,” Richard snapped, trying to shake them off.

  Loud voices and hurried footsteps sounded in the foyer, drawing their attention. When Jennings opened the door to see what was happening, three people brushed past him into the study.

  “Thank God you’re here, Tally,” Lady Dawn cried.

  “Chessy, what’s wrong?”

  “Papa, ‘tis all my fault,” Morgana sobbed, flying into his arms.

  “Tell me what the problem is.”

  Morgana lifted her chin several notches and exposed her neck. The three men gaped at the angry bruises circling her throat.

  “Willis Smythe tried to strangle my poor darling,” Lady Dawn told them.

  Richard slid his gaze to the duchess. That Cheshire labeled Morgana my poor darling proved that something was terribly wrong. His world had suddenly tipped upside down.

  “I saved Lady Morgana’s life,” Roger piped up from where he stood near the door, his pride evident in his voice.

  “You're safe now,” Duke Robert calmed his daughter, holding her close. “When I find Smythe, I’ll kill him for this.”

  “Smythe could be the one who dispatched Lady Jane,” Uncle Hal suggested.

  Richard snapped his head around and stared at his stepfather. Never would he believe that his best friend had become a demented monster who strangled defenseless women. Morgana had somehow provoked Willis into losing his temper. Her testimony proved his guilt less than his own dagger found at the crime scene.

  Compelled by loyalty, Richard said, “Willis has no reason to—”

  “Listen to me,” Morgana interrupted, turning within the circle of her father’s arms to face the earl. “Willis tried to murder me because I discovered his plan to abduct Keely.”

  No one spoke. All eyes riveted on the earl.

  Richard stared at Morgana but looked through her. Every nerve in his body erupted in a wild riot, and a blinding fury etched itself across his features. An unholy gleam shone from his eyes as the pieces of this puzzle fell neatly into place. No one could locate Keely. His best friend had snatched his pregnant wife.

  Without a word, Richard turned away and marched toward the door. He would retrieve his wife, even if it meant hacking the queen’s guard into tiny bits of flesh in order to leave Devereux House.

  “Stop
him,” Morgana screamed. “’Tis part of the baron’s scheme. Willis wants the guard to kill him!”

  Richard yanked the door open, but Roger reached out and grasped the earl’s wrist. “If the queen’s men lay you low, my lord, who will rescue your lady-wife?”

  Richard paused, and his gaze slid to the boy’s face. Long tense moments passed before his eyes cleared and focused on his wife’s favorite page. Cold logic seeped through the red haze of unreasoning fury, and releasing that fury depleted him of excess energy. Almost imperceptibly, he sagged and then nodded at Roger, who removed his hand from the earl’s wrist.

  Richard turned around to face his father-in-law and stepfather. “Any ideas?”

  Everyone in the study relaxed. Roger reached behind Richard and quietly closed the door, then sidestepped to stand in front of it, lest the earl lose control of his emotions again.

  “I have a plan,” Lady Dawn spoke up.

  Her husband cast her a sidelong glance. “Chessy, strategy falls into a man’s domain.”

  Lady Dawn arched a perfectly shaped auburn brow at him. “My love, who knows more about strategy than a woman who’s managed to trap four men into marriage?”

  “Let her speak,” Richard said. “I have good reason to believe in her strategic ability.”

  “I do appreciate your confidence,” Lady Dawn said. “We need a bit of feminine subtlety here. Our problem is to escape Devereux House without bloodshed or discovery. To that end, cook will prepare a delicious supper for the guards, a hearty stew liberally laced with a sleep-inducing herb. Thus, instead of hacking your way to the stables, all you’ll need to do is step over a few prone bodies. No one gets hurt, and later, no one gets axed for committing cold-blooded murder.”

  “It could work,” Richard said.

  “What herb?” Duke Robert asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

  Lady Dawn’s smile was feline. “Tally, my love,” she purred. “I would never use such knowledge against you. ’Tis the herb I slipped my second husband—a nasty brute of a man—whenever he drank too much.”

  “Very well, duchess,” Richard said, a smile appreciative of her ingenuity touching his lips. “We’ll do this your way.” Assuming command, he turned to Roger and ordered, “Accompany Jennings to the scullery and eat. When you’re finished, go to the stables and saddle two horses. I want them ready to ride when I am.”

  Roger grinned and saluted his idol, then followed the majordomo out of the study.

  Next, Richard rounded on Lady Dawn and his stepfather. “Duchess, supervise the preparation of this stew. Uncle Hal, return to perch at court. When Dudley discovers I’ve flown the cage, he’ll be demanding my head on a pike. I need you there to help Burghley calm Elizabeth.”

  Lady Dawn and Uncle Hal left together.

  Richard crossed the chamber to stand before Duke Robert and Morgana. Gently, he tilted Morgana’s chin up and stared at her bruised throat. “You need never fear Willis Smythe again.”

  “’Tis my fault my sister and you are endangered,” Morgana said, a sob catching in her throat.

  Her use of the words my sister surprised both men. Neither had ever heard Morgana refer to Keely as her sister, only a bastard.

  “Do not shoulder the blame for Smythe’s misdeeds,” Duke Robert said.

  “Willis also threatened you,” Morgana told her father. “I know about Keely’s mother and you.”

  “What do you know?” he asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” Richard spoke up, deciding this was a private matter between father and daughter.

  “Stay,” Morgana ordered. “My knowledge concerns your wife.”

  Richard recognized the pain in his sister-in-law’s expression, and in spite of the trouble she’d caused him and his wife, his heart ached for her. Pampered and spoiled, Morgana was considerably less stout-hearted than his wife and incapable of coping with life’s problems.

  “I know Keely is legitimate issue,” Morgana said. “Henry and I are the real Talbot bastards.”

  Her simple statement hit both men with the impact of an avalanche. Duke Robert paled and stepped back a pace as if he’d been struck. Richard gaped at her as if she’d grown another head.

  “I found your certificate of marriage in the Talbot Bible,” she continued. “In misery, I showed it to Willis, who swore to destroy it. He lied. When I confronted him today, he said he wanted two fortunes. Once the guards killed Richard, he planned to wed Keely and then arrange for you, Papa, to suffer an accident. Willis wanted control of both the Devereux and the Talbot estates.”

  “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt,” Duke Robert said, pulling her into his embrace. He planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “I commend your bravery, my golden angel. Go upstairs now and rest awhile. Mention this to no one, not even Henry.”

  When the door shut behind Morgana, Richard fixed a frigid glare upon his father-in-law. “What about my wife’s pain? Keely has lived her entire life branded a bastard.”

  “Aye, I deserve your anger.” Duke Robert held his arm up in a conciliatory gesture. “Before the day Keely arrived in my hall, I never knew she existed. My father told me Megan had died miscarrying a babe eighteen years ago, and I believed him. Good Christ, how could I doubt my own father’s word? With the news of Megan’s passing, the heart in my existence died, and I cared about nothing. Like a dutiful son, I married my father’s original choice for a bride—Letitia Morgan—and produced the requisite heir. You know the rest of my story.”

  “Keely stepped into your hall seven months ago,” Richard reminded him, unmoved by the duke’s pain, his voice colder than the bitter north wind in winter. “My wife deserved—no, needed—to know of her legitimacy. Living in that Welsh dragon’s household has scarred her almost beyond repair. You saw her at court. She walked about with her head hung low, as if she were the basest, most unworthy woman in England. How dare you keep this balm from her? What kind of a man are you?”

  “A simple man who loves all of his children,” Duke Robert answered, his voice bleak. “When Keely dropped into my life, I vowed to do all I could—acknowledge her and find her a loving husband. Which I did. Yet I was unable to name my only son a bastard.” He fixed a bleary-eyed gaze on Richard and asked in a voice choked with raw emotion, “Tell me, Basildon. How does a man choose which of his children to destroy?”

  Staring into his father-in-law’s violet eyes, so much like his wife’s, Richard felt the duke’s pain. It was as tangible as the carpet beneath his feet. He placed a comforting hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Though Henry and Morgana are innocent of your mistake, Keely must be told.”

  “Aye, ’tis past time for the truth,” Duke Robert agreed. “My lands and my fortune rightfully belong to Keely and, through her, the child she carries.”

  “Your possessions mean nothing,” Richard said, shaking his head at the older man’s lack of understanding. “My wife wants a place where she belongs.”

  “And what do you want?” Duke Robert asked. “If Keely decides to keep her legitimacy a family secret, what will you do?”

  “Nothing.”

  Duke Robert gave him a skeptical look. “As my daughter’s husband, you have the right to petition the queen for her inheritance. I would not contest it.”

  “Your Grace, I am the richest man in England,” Richard reminded him. “If I wanted your estate, I would have proposed marriage to Henry.”

  That remark brought a reluctant smile to the duke’s lips.

  “I married a penniless, Welsh bastard because—” Richard smiled, recognizing the depths of his emotion—“I love her.”

  * * *

  The sun died in a blazing fire as it did each day, and dusk aged into evening. An hour after supper, two black-clad figures peered out the door that opened onto the courtyard. The Earl of Basildon and the Duke of Ludlow stepped over the prone bodies of the queen’s sleeping guards and walked down the path toward the stableyard.

&nb
sp; “I’d hate to be wearing their boots when Dudley discovers I’m gone,” Richard whispered. “All men have a cross to bear,” the Duke of Ludlow said. “Too bad this is theirs.”

  Roger grinned when he saw the earl and the duke walk into the stable. “I’m going with you.” He gestured to the three horses he’d saddled.

  “No, “ Richard said.

  “I can help. I did save Lady Morgana from certain death.”

  “No.”

  Roger refused to give up. “I am indebted to Lady Devereux and cannot chance losing my business partner.”

  Richard cocked a copper brow at the boy. Did the brat doubt his fighting ability? He ought to box his ears.

  “Your lady-wife floated me the gold I needed to invest in the Levant,” Roger explained. “’Tis a long story, which I’ll relate as we ride.”

  Richard placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I do appreciate your loyalty, but if anything happened, your father would demand our heads on a pike. Besides, who will protect Lady Dawn and Lady Morgana in our absence?”

  A wholly disgusted look appeared on Roger’s face. He shrugged the earl’s hand off his shoulder. “With all due respect, your words are naught but condescending cow shit.”

  Duke Robert chuckled at the boy's impertinence.

  Richard frowned. The boy spoke the truth. He was condescending to him.

  “Let the fledgling ride with us,” Duke Robert said.

  Richard whirled around. “Have you lost your senses?”

  “He’ll follow us if we leave him behind,” the duke said. “Won’t you, boy?”

  Roger grinned and nodded.

  “The boy is safer between us than behind us,” Duke Robert said.

  “When trouble starts, ride to Ludlow Castle,” Richard instructed the boy. “Do you understand?”

  Roger bobbed his head. “How do you plan to kill the baron?”

  “Very slowly,” Richard answered. “And with great pleasure.”

  The Earl of Basildon, the Duke of Ludlow, and the queen’s page mounted their horses and rode west toward Shropshire.

  Chapter 19