Kissed by Shadows

by Jane Feather

  She sat back again and stretched the tight muscles in her neck. “Come, tell me all. It will divert us a little.”

  She listened with incredulous amusement as Luisa told her of all her excursions with Robin.

  Luisa embellished her stories a little as she saw how life seemed to return to Pippa's eyes and a little color crept into her cheeks. Luisa didn't know what had happened, why they were bouncing around in this uncomfortable carriage, or even where they were going, but it was clear as day to anyone with a smidgeon of sensitivity that some disaster lay behind this precipitous journey and Luisa was certain that Pippa needed her.

  She had never been needed before. She had been cossetted and confined, surrounded by people for whom her comfort and wishes were their main concern, and it was a novel sensation to know that it was her turn to provide the comfort and the cossetting.

  Pippa laughed aloud at Luisa's description of the gaming tables from where, in her guise as servant girl no better than she should be, she had risen the night's winner to the chagrin of her male competitors.

  Robin leaned sideways on his horse and stuck his head in the window. “What has amused you?”

  “I've been hearing how you've been leading this poor girl astray,” Pippa said. “Fancy encouraging her to behave like a whore!”

  Robin grinned. “She came to no harm.”

  “No, indeed I did not,” Luisa agreed with a touch of indignation.

  “I doubt you'd be here now if you hadn't felt your wings,” Pippa commented.

  “I am here because something bad has happened and I think I can help,” Luisa stated, fire in her eyes. “I was only intending to have a little adventure, to test my wits against Malcolm's vigilance, and give Robin a surprise. But then it seemed that you needed me.” She looked between them, her eyes bright now with challenge.

  The moment of diversion had passed. For a short while Pippa's spirits had lifted but now the knowledge of her misery came back with renewed force. The black cloud enveloped her once more and she felt her unhappiness like a physical weight that had settled on her heart.

  She said bleakly, “I am glad of your company, Luisa. Robin, let us break our journey for half an hour soon. I am awearied of this carriage and ache from top to toe.”

  “High Wycombe,” he said. “'Tis the next village. Do not show yourself unveiled though.”

  “How should I?” Pippa demanded. She wanted to snap at Robin for making such a stupidly obvious comment, but she controlled the urge. He was struggling so hard to do and say the right things. It was not his fault that nothing would ever be right again.

  “Why must you not be seen?” Luisa inquired.

  Pippa shook her head. “I cannot tell you. 'Tis dangerous knowledge.”

  “I see.” Luisa nodded. “Then I will ask no more questions.”

  Pippa closed her eyes again. While she found Luisa's presence a comforting distraction she couldn't begin to think what they were to do with the girl. Lionel would be searching frantically for her.

  And once he realized she herself had escaped he would also be searching for the king of Spain's whore.

  The wretchedly familiar metallic taste was in her mouth and the nausea that had not troubled her so far today rose thick and acid in her throat. She leaned towards the window. “Stop the carriage!”

  She stumbled out the minute it had halted. Luisa was behind her. She held her veiled hood back as Pippa vomited into the hedge. “My mother was always sick,” she said. “With all her pregnancies.”

  Pippa straightened slowly, telling herself that one day this would stop. “There is lavender water in my bag, and spearmint. Bring them, will you? I will stay here in the air for a minute.”

  Robin was standing a few feet away, trying to appear as if he hadn't noticed his sister's distress, but concern was writ large on his face.

  How soon would her disappearance be discovered? He prayed that their plan would work and they had at least two days' start on the pursuit. And there would be pursuit. They wanted the child she carried, but Pippa now knew too much to be left at large. He guessed that if they got her in their hands they would keep her alive only until after the child's birth, or until Mary gave birth to a healthy heir.

  Perhaps she would be safe in France with her brother-in-law. Owen d'Arcy knew how to hide people as well as to discover them. Once she was beyond Spain's reach they might let sleeping dogs lie, although she would always be at risk. Philip's reputation for vice was so well known that Pippa's tale of her violation, if she chose to tell it, would barely stir the waters.

  Robin wondered if she would keep quiet for the child's sake. The lands under Spanish hegemony were littered with Philip's bastards but this one would bear Stuart Nielson's name. The truth of its parentage could easily be kept secret and the child would suffer no stigma. But Pippa would not be able to risk a return to England, not in Mary's lifetime. Only if Elizabeth inherited the crown would Pippa be truly safe.

  How Pippa herself would react to the child once it was born was a question of such magnitude that Robin didn't want to explore it. Time enough when they had her safe.

  Pippa came back to the carriage, pale but composed. She saw Robin's dark expression, the shadows clouding his eyes, and she touched his hand as if to offer comfort, absurd really when she had none to give herself. “I'm ready to continue, Robin,” she said simply.

  He nodded. “We'll stop in High Wycombe and get some refreshment . . . perhaps we should stay there for the rest of the day?”

  Pippa shook her head in vigorous denial. “No, we must press on . . . put as many miles between us and London as we can. As soon as you've done your work in Thame and Woodstock, we'll make our way to the coast.”

  “Are we to go on a voyage?” Luisa inquired.

  “You aren't,” Robin stated flatly. “As soon as Pippa is safe, Jem will escort you back to London.”

  Luisa made no comment, merely climbed back into the coach. She leaned back in her corner and regarded Pippa anxiously. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes, I thank you.” Pippa closed her eyes, thinking that if she could just sleep for a little, brief unconsciousness would give her both respite and strength.

  Luisa closed her own eyes, the better to think. She had planned to suggest that Jem take a message of her own to her guardian, its gist that her reputation was quite safe with Lady Nielson, who had need of a female companion on her present journey.

  It was of course possible that Don Ashton wouldn't see the matter the way she did. In fact it was more than likely that he was already searching for her. But he wouldn't know where to start. He knew nothing of her friendship with Robin, no one knew of it. He would think for the time being that she had been abducted from the streets. They would be desperately anxious and for that she was sorry, but she couldn't see what else to do.

  There was one thing of which she was certain. She was going to see this mysterious adventure through to the end. The idea of returning to her previous existence was impossible to contemplate.

  Lionel and Malcolm rode as if the devil's hounds were on their heels. They reached High Wycombe late in the afternoon and split up to make inquiry of the town's three inns. It was the most obvious place for the travelers to have stopped for refreshment and Lionel was not surprised when Malcolm reported that the White Hart had served a gentleman and his page, and had sent refreshments out to the two ladies who had remained in the carriage except for a few minutes stretching their legs.

  Lionel drank a tankard of ale at the ale bench outside the inn and considered. Robin had to carry his now unnecessary message to Lord William of Thame, but he could not risk taking Pippa there with him. Philip and Mary's spies were everywhere and buzzed with particular vigor around Elizabeth's avowed supporters. The ladies would have to be left in an inn somewhere while Robin completed his business.

  He guessed that they would stop well before nightfall, and Robin would probably plan to ride on to Thame tonight and continue to Woodstock in the morni
ng, leaving his companions in hiding. Unencumbered he would be able to ride hard and deliver his messages quickly, so he had to be intercepted tonight, before he reached Lord William at Thame.

  Lionel frowned into his ale. He had no illusions. His hardest task would be to convince Robin of Beaucaire to put his sister in his safekeeping. It could prove an impossible task.

  He carried with him de Noailles's instructions that Robin cancel his present mission and accept Lionel Ashton as a trustworthy colleague, loyal to their own causes. But would that be sufficient to get Beaucaire to listen to him despite what he must now know about his part in what had been done to Pippa?

  Pippa. Even if he succeeded with Robin, how was he to regain Pippa's trust? He was no closer to an answer.

  He tossed back the contents of his tankard. “Let's be on our way, Malcolm. We'll need to ask in the villages if they've been seen. I'm certain they'll deviate from the road as we get closer to Thame.”

  “Right y'are, sir.”

  They followed the carriage's progress as far as Princes Risborough, and then learned from a cottager that the gentleman riding alongside the carriage had asked for the name of a nearby inn off the main Oxford road that had beds for travelers.

  “The Black Cock in Chinnor's as good as it gets in these parts, and so I told him,” the old man said, leaning on his fork over the compost heap he was turning. “Not up to much for gentry folks, but as good as it gets.”

  “We have them,” Lionel stated. His outward demeanor was as calm and detached as always, but his heart felt squeezed and apprehension lay sick and heavy in his belly. He had to persuade Pippa to trust him enough for him to get her to safety. He had to persuade her to endure his unendurable company until she was safely on French soil. He would bear any humiliation, sacrifice every iota of his pride, to achieve this. And he would swear to her that once she was safe he would leave her life forever.

  And he didn't know how he could do that.

  He turned his horse across the field indicated by the cottager and they rode in silence as the last pink rays of the setting sun faded in the western sky.

  Pippa looked around the small chamber in the Black Cock with a grimace. “I would rather sleep in a tent,” she said. “This is filthy. I'm certain there must be fleas.”

  Robin held up the tallow candle provided by their surly landlord and surveyed the accommodations as unhappily as she. There was but one guest room in the inn and the four of them would have to share it.

  “Well, we must make the best of it,” Pippa said in resolute tones. She reflected that if this miserable hovel was the worst thing that happened on their flight they could count themselves fortunate.

  She made disposition briskly. “Luisa and I will take the bed. Robin, you won't mind the truckle bed, and Jem, I'm afraid you will have to make do with the floor.” She gave the page an apologetic smile. “We'll find a blanket for you.”

  Luisa tried to conceal her horror at the smell of damp and mildew and dirt. At the unglazed window and the filthy straw on the floor. Pippa's matter-of-fact acceptance of the conditions astonished her. But she had never been exposed to the rough living of a traveler, unlike Pippa, who as a child had traveled in the company of a troop of soldiers the many miles from Derbyshire to London when Lord Hugh of Beaucaire, Robin's father, had arrested her mother and taken her to appear before King Henry VIII and his Star Chamber.

  Robin set the candle on the shelf above the cheerless hearth. He regarded Luisa in the dim light and saw her consternation. “You should have stayed at home,” he observed.

  Luisa flushed angrily. “I do not mind this,” she denied. “Pippa will need my help all the more in these conditions.”

  Pippa gave her an appreciative smile. “That is a very kindly thought, Luisa,” she said. “I'm sure we can do something to improve this. I shall go and confront Goodman Brown. He must sweep up this straw and replace it with fresh rushes. A fire would help the dampness, and he must supply fresh herbs to sprinkle on the mattress.”

  Pippa was aware of a welcome surge of energy at the prospect of something concrete to deal with. Moping with unhappiness sapped one's energy and drive quite dreadfully, she reflected.

  Robin followed her into the narrow passage outside. “Pippa, I must leave you here,” he said, pulling the door closed behind him so that Luisa could not hear.

  “Yes, I know what you have to do,” Pippa replied quickly. “Will you return this night?”

  “Yes, of course. My errand will not take long.”

  She tried to hide her relief that they would not be alone overnight. “Then go to it, love. I'll have enough to do trying to make this place habitable and finding something halfway palatable for supper.”

  “I will leave Jem with you.”

  Pippa nodded. “Yes, that would be wise. We shall put him to work.” She smiled at Jem, who had accompanied his master. “A poor exchange, I know, Jem, but I would not wish to be left here without a man's company.”

  Jem was so gratified by this elevation in status that he forgot his disgruntlement and returned readily to Luisa and the bedchamber when Robin waved him away.

  Robin said uncertainly, “I hate to leave you.”

  “The sooner you're gone the sooner you'll be back,” Pippa replied, heading for the stairs.

  “This may cure Luisa of the wish to go adventuring,” he said with a sigh as they reached the cramped hallway at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Would you wish her cured?” Pippa regarded him with narrowed eyes.

  “She's Ashton's ward. She can mean nothing to me,” he returned with sudden harshness.

  The surge of energy that had buoyed her faded as abruptly as it had come. “She's not tarred with her guardian's brush. I sense only goodness in her.” Her voice was low and bitter and she averted her eyes so that he did not see the pain in them. But he felt it nevertheless.

  “Pippa, I—”

  “No, don't say anything. There's nothing to be said. I will manage this.” She touched his hand. “Go, Robin. We have but two days before they discover I'm gone.”

  Again he hesitated, but now she met his gaze steadily. “Go,” she repeated.

  He nodded, and strode out into the gathering dusk.

  Pippa stood for a minute, wrestling with the pain that threatened to sap her resolution completely. She knew that she must not see herself as a victim. If she did so she would see no point in going on. She had been touched by an evil, but it was not her self that had been touched. She had to hold on to that.

  With a little encouraging nod to herself she turned towards the kitchen, prepared to do battle with Goodman Brown and his slatternly wife.

  She heard Lionel's voice from the yard before she had taken a step. It came so suddenly it seemed to have sprung from her thoughts. She stood immobile in the shadows of the hall, terror icing her veins. He would take her back.

  But she would not go. She would die rather.

  Robin's voice, raised in anger and alarm, reached her, drowning out Lionel's more measured tones. She crept farther into the shadows as if they would somehow protect her from discovery.

  Had he come after Luisa or herself? Not that it mattered. Once he saw her he would try to take her back.

  She moved at last, forcing herself to go to the door that opened on the yard. She could not, would not, be found cowering.

  Lionel and a man she didn't know had dismounted from their horses and were facing Robin, who had his hand on his sword hilt.

  “Don't draw on me, Beaucaire,” Lionel said. “I will not fight you and it will do no one any good if you run me through. I have something from the French ambassador for you . . . something that may make matters clearer.” He put his hand inside his doublet.

  Robin kept his hand on his sword but made no move to draw it. With his free hand he took the sealed document. The seal was authentic, unless Ashton had stolen it, or had access to an exact replica. Doubts swirled as he read the message. He knew the ambassador's handwriting a
nd this was certainly it.

  He handed the paper back, saying dismissively, “That is all very well, Ashton, but your true colors matter little to me. Your ward is above stairs. My sister is my business, and I may do it all the faster now that my mission is canceled.”

  “No, I'm afraid she's mine.” Lionel took the letter, folded it, and put it back in his pocket. “You must forgive me, but I can get her to safety more effectively than you, Beaucaire.”

  “As effectively as you used her,” Robin said, his hand still on his sword. “You must forgive me, Ashton, but I would not trust my sister to you if I were on my deathbed.”

  “It is for Pippa to make that decision. 'Tis her life at stake,” Lionel declared, still quietly. “I believe I can save her life, where you will fail.”

  Pippa struggled to make sense of the exchange. What was he saying? What did Robin mean about true colors?

  The sight of Lionel filled her with such rage and sorrow that it took her breath away. She had expected never to lay eyes upon him again and was utterly unprepared for the effect his presence had upon her. It made it impossible for her to think clearly, to make sense of what was going on.

  She heard Robin's sword rasp in the sheath as he drew it. And she knew that good swordsman though he was he would be no match for Lionel.

  She stepped out into the yard, her voice carrying through the gloom. “No . . . no, Robin, sheath your sword.”

  Pippa looked directly at Lionel with eyes so cold he felt they would turn him to stone.

  “So, Mr. Ashton, am I to understand that your deep games were all in the right cause? I should be grateful that you would save my life, it seems. How nice for us all to have you on our side.”

  Her lip curled in a sardonic travesty of a smile. “You will understand, I'm sure, that I prefer to take my chances with my brother. Luisa, however, is above stairs. You will be glad to know that she is quite safe, her reputation untarnished.”

  “I never doubted that,” he said, knowing he must not waver, must not allow Pippa to turn him away however much icy scorn she poured upon his head. “She will return home with Malcolm as soon as 'tis light. But you must hear me out, Pippa. Beaucaire cannot do for you what I can.”