‘None of the eligible young ladies at court wanted to marry him. When I was there, Lord Shrewsbury’s tastes were well known among the courtiers as well as the servants. Any lady who married him would have become something of a laughingstock. The only ones likely to willing take him on would be those who were not blessed with vast lands and a noble pedigree, or who had been tainted by scandal.’
‘And Lady Sabina does not know this?’
‘I doubt it, although I would not be at all surprised if Lady Cunningham had heard some of the rumours.’
‘Might it not have just been a phase which he has since outgrown?’
‘I can tell you with total conviction that it is not. When I met him down the back alley of the Cow and Cockerel, he indecently propositioned me.’
Her jaw nearly hit the floor. ‘He what?’
‘And he didn’t even wait for an answer before he started groping at me. It was quite something, let me tell you.’
She could not help giggling at the thought of the weedy little lord taking such an unwise liberty with the brawny knight. ‘Did he mistake you for a prostitute or something?’
To her surprise, the humour of the incident did not seem to have been lost on Sir Richard. He chuckled darkly. ‘No, he knows who I am. We met briefly when he visited the Cunninghams last year.’
‘Surely no one could possibly think that your romantic interests have much in common with his?’
‘I believe the misunderstanding might have arisen from what Mistress Anne and your cousin told him.’
‘Really, and what was that?’
‘I understand they told him that, as I had shown no interest in them despite much encouragement on their part, my tastes must lie elsewhere.’
Rowena noticed that Lady Sabina and Lord Shrewsbury had nearly reached her as they made their way through the crowd arm-in-arm, receiving the congratulations and good wishes of the guests. She indicated the approaching danger with a nod in their direction, and gave Sir Richard a warning glance.
He nodded to show he understood. ‘Fear not, I shan’t say anything.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, but I think I shall go and sit down for a little while anyway,’ she said, moving off towards the chairs tucked away in a small alcove at the far end of the room.
Later that evening, Rowena stepped outside into the walled garden adjacent the great hall
‘Ah, that’s better,’ she murmured, taking a deep breath. ‘It is awfully hot and stuffy in there.’
‘Yes, it is,’ said Sir Richard, who so far had not strayed more than a few feet from her.
She could see he was not going to be talked into leaving her side for a single moment that evening. But she knew this was her only real chance of getting the letters off Lord Cunningham. She was sure Lord Cunningham would not notice her bumping up against him in the crowd late in the evening, which would enable her to relieve him of his keys, and his almost certain state of total drunkenness would hopefully mean he would not realize they were gone. To ensure that she could search through his room undisturbed, she had brought a sleeping potion with her. She intended to slip it into the brandy nightcap he always had brought up to his room just before he went to bed.
But Sir Richard clearly intended to keep his wits about him. Despite her best efforts to ply him with alcohol, he was still only on his third drink. She was beginning to get desperate. The party would soon be drawing to a close and he was still stuck to her like a limpet. Every one of her attempts to throw him off had failed.
Now there was only one option left.
.9.
Nocturnal Nightmares See
the Light of Day
NIGHT’S shadowy mantle covered the garden. Only the wistful stars sprinkled across heaven’s dome and a little weak candlelight shining out through the hall’s open door lightened her velvet embrace.
Rowena had spotted Sir Richard’s half-empty goblet sitting beside him on the low stone wall where he sat. Grateful for night’s dark veil, she slowly took a small glass bottle out of her pocket, and holding it out of her intended victim’s sight behind her back, carefully drew out the stopper. She then maneuvered herself so that she stood beside the goblet with her back facing it. When he looked away, she let a few drops fall into the wine.
‘Ah Rowena, the-there you are!’ cried Lady Sabina, bursting out into the courtyard garden, clearly tipsy. ‘Typical of you to be sulking in some corner instead of joining in like a normal p-p-person.’
Rowena quickly jammed the bottle back into her pocket. Why did Sabina always have to come flying in at the crucial moment?
Rowena gave a weak smile, her hands still clutched behind her. ‘I’m not sulking out here—am I, Sir Richard?’
‘No, not sulking,’ he replied casually, ‘just pacing around looking hot and frazzled.’
Lady Sabina flicked her veil over her shoulder with a toss of her head. ‘Oh d-dear. But I suppose one must have p-p-patience with the poor unfortunates who have not been brought up properly and do not know h-how to behave at gatherings.’
The tall knight scowled darkly at Lady Sabina as he slowly got to his feet. ‘Did you come out here for a reason?’
Lady Sabina shot him a peeved look before staggering over to her cousin, nearly falling more than once as she failed to keep her long skirts from under her feet. ‘I have yet to receive Rowena’s con-g-congratulations. Do I not h-have the right to speak to my cousin at my-my own betrothal feast?’
Sir Richard drained his goblet in one gulp. ‘Yes, but only if you keep a civil tongue in your head.’
Lady Sabina took a swig of wine as she swung drunkenly around to face him. ‘How d-d-dare you speak to me like that? I am about to be m-m-married to Lord Shrewsbury, you know. When I am his w-wife, you know, I will h-h-have hundreds of knights under m-m-my command, and if any of them d-d-dare, do you hear me? D-dare to speak to me like that, I shall have them fl-fl-flogged, publicly fl-fl-flogged.’
Sir Richard looked at her with open disgust. ‘I thank you for the warning, madam, but I have no intention of becoming one of Shrewsbury’s minions.’
Rowena came to Lady Sabina’s side and took her by the arm. ‘Come, I think it’s time you retired for the night.’
‘N-n-n-no!’ slurred Lady Sabina, shaking Rowena off. ‘Stop treating m-m-me like a child.’
‘You might want to consider not behaving like one then,’ Sir Richard muttered under his breath.
But Lady Sabina did not seem to have heard him. ‘Here.’ She thrust her hand in front of Rowena. ‘Look at my b-big betrothal ring. Take a g-g-good look, because you will not be getting one like this if you ever m-m-manage to find a man d-desperate enough to m-m-marry you. ’
Rowena cast a disinterested eye over the gold ring, which was topped by the largest diamond she had ever seen. ‘Yes, very nice.’
‘I can s-see you are eaten up w-w-with jealousy, which I p-pray God will forgive you f-f-for. Your envy is understandable w-w-when I have met with such g-good fortune and you have n-n-nothing.’
‘Good fortune?’ Sir Richard was looking more bad-tempered by the moment. ‘Wait until you’ve been married to the man for a while before you go around crowing about your good fortune!’
Lady Sabina lurched towards him. ‘I can s-see you are angry because I am going to m-m-marry Lord Shrewsbury and not you,’ she slurred, throwing her arms around his neck. ‘But I w-will take pity on you, my love, and let you h-h-have one n-n-night of passion with me before I g-go.’
Sir Richard would not have looked more revolted if he had fallen into a cesspit. He roughly pushed her away. ‘Get your hands off me, madam! If I have ever said or done anything which led you to believe I have some sort of romantic interest in you, I regret to inform you, madam, that you were badly mistaken.’ As he spoke, he added insult to injury by dusting himself down like someone who had just been touched by a leper. ‘Now for God’s sake go and sober up before you embarrass yourself any further!’
Lady Sabina looked at
him confusedly. ‘What do you m-mean?’
Sir Richard pointed to the open door. ‘Get you gone!’
Lady Sabina seized his hand and kissed it. ‘Oh my l-love, let-let us go and sooth the p-pangs of our—’
Sir Richard pulled himself free of his unwanted conquest’s drunken advances and jumped up onto the wall behind him. ‘Rowena, can’t you bloody do something about this crazed banshee before she damn-well ravishes me?’
Rowena, who had been watching the increasingly absurd scene with a mixture of horror and mirth, shrugged her shoulders helplessly. ‘What am I supposed to do? She never listens to me.’
Lady Sabina had now fallen to the ground and wrapped her arms around Sir Richard’s leg.
‘Just do something, I don’t care what!’ he ordered his clerk.
‘Sir Richard Hastings, what in God’s name are you doing to my daughter?’ shrieked Lady Cunningham, storming out through the door.
Sir Richard let out a sigh of relief. ‘Reinforcements, thank God!’
Lady Cunningham jabbed a bony finger at him. ‘I demand that you explain yourself!’
‘Madam, I’d be much obliged to you if you could please convince your daughter to give me my leg back.’
Lady Cunningham strode over to Lady Sabina and seized her by the arm. ‘Sabina, what are you doing in this disgraceful position before that man? Get up at once!’
‘Nooo!’ the maiden wailed. ‘He loves me, I know he does!’
Her mother’s eyes were fierce with anger. ‘Get up now!’ she screamed, pulling Lady Sabina by the hair.
The drunken girl’s weak resistance was easily overcome by the livid Lady Cunningham, who pulled her daughter to her feet and started dragging her towards the door. ‘If either of you breathe so much as a single word to anyone about this incident I will have your heads! Do you hear me?’ Lady Cunningham hissed at the two observers.
Rowena nodded, feeling rather intimidated by her aunt’s venomous manner, but Sir Richard was too busy getting down from his place of safety to take much heed of the warning.
As soon as the Cunningham ladies were safely out the way, he sunk back down onto the garden wall. ‘What do these crazed women think I am? A mindless piece of meat to pleasure themselves on? Ugly men have no idea how much trouble they avoid...’
She sighed. ‘Yes, something like that.’
‘Oh my head,’ he groaned weakly, holding his head in his hands. ‘It’s swimming like a cork caught in a whirlpool. I shouldn’t have had that third glass of wine. I know Cunningham’s a miserly swine, but serving wine that would strip the hair off a sewer rat really is low…’
The sleeping potion was clearly taking effect. Rowena rubbed her hands together. At least something was going to plan.
‘Rowena,’ he murmured weakly, ‘I think I’m going to faint…’
Knowing she would never be able to move him once he was asleep, she instantly jumped to her feet and started trying to pull him up. ‘Just hold off on that until I can get you up to one of the guestrooms!’
‘No, I’ll…never make…make…it…’ His head slumped closer and closer to his chest as he spoke.
‘Sir Richard, no!’
He started sliding to the ground.
‘Not here, for God’s sake not here!’ she begged, beginning to think she must have overdone the dose. She seized him by the shoulders and gave him a good shake. ‘Wake up!’
This seemed to revive him a little. ‘My head…feels…so…heavy…’ he managed to gasp, before closing his eyes and beginning to topple over again.
She caught hold of him before he could slump down onto the hard paving stones, and gave him another shake. But it had no effect. ‘Sir Richard, wake up!’ she cried, slapping him on the cheek.
He let out a low groan, but she could see he was too far gone now to be able to stand up again until the potion had worn off.
Gasping and puffing, she lowered his considerable weight to the ground.
‘Need a hand there, Mistress Rowena?’ a cheerful young voice interrupted her quiet panic.
She turned to see Herlewin, the new garden boy, eyeing the unconscious Sir Richard with a professional air. ‘Thank goodness,’ she gasped. ‘I was beginning to think I’d have to leave him out here all night!’
‘Wouldn’t want to do that, would we now? Starts to get chilly at night this time of year. Looks a heavy one, though,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Might have to get a bit of help in…’
‘Yes, I can attest to his being very heavy indeed.’
‘Been under him, have you?’
‘No!’ she yelped. ‘I just meant that I’d already tried to move him.’
The strapping young man chuckled. ‘I know you did.’
‘Cheeky lout,’ she retorted, but could not resist a giggle at the joke even though it had been at her own expense.
‘Aldred!’ he shouted. ‘There’s another one out here!’
The disgruntled-looking gardener shuffled out, his white hair almost standing on end. ‘Is there no end to it?’ he grumbled. ‘I only just avoided having that last one chuck up on me. That’s gratitude for you…’
‘I’m sure this one will not cause you any grief, Aldred,’ she tried to reassure him.
‘That’d make a change…’ he replied dubiously, taking hold of Sir Richard’s arm.
Herlewin seized the unconscious knight’s other arm, and after a nod from Aldred, the two men heaved. There was a flurry of groans and curses, most of them from the older man but a few from Herlewin too. Despite his impressive physique, he still had to work hard to lift Sir Richard up and drag him towards the door.
‘Please put him in the blue guestroom,’ she instructed them, relieved to finally have her master out of the way.
Now she could put her plan into action.
* * * *
It was well past midnight. If Rowena had not been so on edge, she would have been exhausted by now. She had been waiting in the dark, recessed window seat at the end of the upstairs corridor for what seemed like an age. The distant tolling of the bells of Hartfield cathedral striking two informed her that it had in fact been only half an hour.
Her attempt to relieve Lord Cunningham of the keys he always wore dangling from his belt had been a delightful success. Once she had got Sir Richard out of the way—who she knew would have prevented her from trying to steal the letters from her uncle by force if necessary— it had been easy to take the keys.
The feast had gone on and on. She had lost count of the number of toasts that had been drunk and courses eaten. It had seemed like it would never end. But all the guests had finally staggered, giggled and slurred their way back to their guestrooms. And Lord Cunningham had fulfilled her prediction that he would be too groggy with wine to notice what she was up to. Slipping the sleeping draft into his brandy before the servant took it up to his room had been an easy matter. Her presence in the kitchens was a common sight and no one’s suspicions had been raised.
All she had to do now was wait for loud snores coming from her uncle’s bedchamber to signal it was safe to enter and begin the search. She intended to begin looking in the study first.
After some carefully casual questioning of the servants, Rowena had discovered that the chamber he slept in led off the study, so she knew she had a good chance of finding the letters without having to search his bedroom while he slept.
Finally she heard the sound she had been waiting so impatiently for. By parting the heavy cloak wrapped around it, she let a small shaft of light shine from the lantern she carried. Then, with racing heart and shallow breath, she placed a shaky hand on the door latch, and praying that it would not creak, lifted it and pushed the door ever so slowly open.
The heavy oak door did not give her away. Hardly daring to breathe, Rowena tip-toed in and quickly surveyed the room for the most obvious place to begin her search. Her eyes alighted on two large wooden chests sitting on a table in the corner.
Yes, that seemed a likely hiding place. T
hey had keyholes in them, but to her surprise, when she tried to open them they proved not to be locked. But the contents, a pile of paper scrolls, did look quite promising.
The nervous young woman started going through them one by one, unrolling each and giving it a quick scan. But they were all just account records for the estate.
She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and sighed. It was going to be a long night.
What made the task even more daunting was that she was not even quite sure what she was really looking for. Despite her best efforts to make him, Sir Richard had never told her whom the letters were addressed to or what they were about. She was wary of missing the incriminating letters altogether. She knew he could not write very well, so it was likely he had got someone else to write them for him. This made her job much more difficult. Instead of simply checking if the handwriting was his, she had to look at the signature on every letter that looked a likely candidate.
After laboriously working her way through the contents of both chests, she still had not found any letters that seemed compromising. She looked around the room, but there were no other documents or places where they might be kept. There was only one more place they might be: in his bedchamber.
She knew it was dangerous. Even the most resourceful person would struggle if pressed to come up with an acceptable reason for creeping around in the dead of night riffling through their uncle’s bedchamber.
She stopped outside the bedchamber door, wavering indecisively. If she was caught red-handed, the consequences did not bear thinking about, but neither did the consequences if Sir Richard continued to be blackmailed. Aside from how irritable and strained it made the already moody knight, the danger of Walter Gray using Sir Richard’s corruption to incite civil unrest was just too great.
Something had to be done, and it had to be done now. It had been such a stress getting this far that she could not bear the thought of turning back now.
She took a deep breath and inched the bedchamber door slowly, carefully open.
The Heart of Darkness Page 15