by Julia Latham
“I cannot believe you’d do this to a woman who has risked herself for everything you believe in,” Philip said in a harsh voice. “She is someone who wants to join your League, yet you’d leave her behind.”
Walter looked pained. “She would understand the urgency of the entire mission. And join the League? Why would she think that?”
“She is good at impersonating women. She hoped you would have her continue.”
“Philip, that cannot happen,” Walter said, sympathy and frustration in his voice. “Too many people have seen her in the guise of Lady Rosamond. She cannot take on another masquerade and have a good chance of its success. And she has no other skills that would set her apart from other women.”
Philip imagined how Anne would feel when she discovered that the future she’d planned for herself was gone. He had to be the one to tell her, to comfort her—after he rescued her.
“I have taken orders my whole life,” Philip said, “but not this time. I am not going with you.”
“You don’t mean this,” David said, his voice its usual calm. “You’ve spent your life wanting to be one of us.”
“And I’d already realized that was a mistake before joining you. You’re only confirming it for me. First you withhold information about a murder,” Philip said, turning back to Walter, “and now you abandon Anne because she’s useless to you.”
“We are not abandoning her. By finishing the mission we will be freeing her.”
“But it may be too late! And I won’t take that risk. She’s all alone in the hands of a criminal. I can’t leave her to that kind of fear. Oh don’t worry—I have no intention of speaking of what I know of your mission. I will simply be a good knight rescuing his mistress.”
Ignoring David’s entreaty, Philip returned to the chamber he had briefly shared with Anne and stared at her things. But although his stomach clenched in terror at the thought of what she was enduring, he did not have time to think about anything but returning to Bramfield.
When he heard the door open behind him, he whirled, prepared to do battle. But it was only David.
“Surely you are not joining me,” Philip said bitterly.
David shook his head, barely glancing at the dead man on the floor. “Although I must follow orders, I understand your dilemma. I wanted to give you something.”
He put a coin into Philip’s hand. At first Philip thought it was only a pound, and started to demand answers, but then he realized something was different about it.
“Do not spend it,” David said quietly. “It is your key to accessing the League in London. Go to the northern most haberdashery on the London Bridge. Present this there, and you can leave a message. We will receive it.”
Philip slipped it into the pouch at his waist. “My thanks.” He gestured to the body. “Have Walter take care of that.”
Behind him he could hear David hesitate.
“We will,” the Bladesman murmured. “Good fortune.”
Philip was feeling too angry to wish the same in return. He only nodded. When the door closed, his shoulders sagged. He had never done anything like this alone, had always followed in the shadow of someone else.
But now, it was time. He was in the right—and he was all Anne had.
He left plenty of money with the innkeeper to store Anne’s garments—and to have the rooms cleaned.
The dungeon at Bramfield Hall was damp and cold, even in the summer. At least Anne thought it was Bramfield; she had been blindfolded once they’d left Waltham Abbey. But the length of their journey seemed right, and where else would a lord risk holding her, where no one would hear her scream? She’d tried that, and nothing had happened. And with only a contingent of four knights, Philip and the Bladesmen could not possibly attack to rescue her. She had not been able to sleep all night; in fact, she had no idea if it were morning yet—or if anyone was alive to come for her.
She could not afford to think like that, or she would lose herself in hopelessness. Now she huddled on a rock ledge that had been dug out of the wall, trying not to think of the dampness soaking into her skirts. At least they had left a torch, though it was high up on a wall where she could not reach it. Chains were attached to those rock walls. Would they use them?
At last she heard more than one pair of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. She got to her feet. A key turned in the lock, the door swung wide, and she was face-to-face with the stranger who’d kidnapped her—and he was still smiling pleasantly. That somehow made it worse.
She glared at him. “Where are my men? What do you intend to do now?”
He ignored her first question. “Talk to you, of course. I have not had the pleasure before now. I was assigned to watch Lady Rosamond, and I must have watched from too far away, because to my amazement, a switch was made.”
“Then you must be Stephen, Margaret’s suitor. There was no switch. I am Lady Rosamond. When the king discovers what you have done to a member of his court—”
“You are not a member of the court,” Stephen said with patience. “I saw the real Lady Rosamond in York, and at the tournament in Durham, and you are not she. Now all I need to know from you is where the real Lady Rosamond is.”
There was no reason to continue denying the truth. “I cannot help you. I know nothing about Lady Rosamond’s whereabouts. And if you were worried about what she saw in Durham, why did you not deal with it then?”
Stephen shook his head sadly. “’Tis a shame, really, because that would have made things so much easier. But we didn’t know who we were looking for. My lord only saw a noblewoman eavesdropping, and only from the back. If he could have discovered her identity, he could have explained that he was discussing what might happen if someone were to go against our king, and what should be done to prevent it.”
Anne narrowed her eyes and said nothing. Stephen and his “master” could try to change the facts all they wanted, but it would not matter in the end. “Did you kill Lady Staplehill?”
Stephen put a hand to his chest. “Goodness, no! As I explained to you, I was assigned to Lady Rosamond.”
“And others were assigned to different noble ladies,” she said slowly, “to see who might have overheard your…misunderstanding. Perhaps Lady Staplehill is the one you have been searching for, and now her death should be the end of your concern.”
“That would be wonderful for Lady Rosamond, of course, but sadly, the death was an accident.”
“You mean she was accidentally murdered, just like we were accidentally attacked on the road.”
Stephen shrugged, spreading his hands. “Since I was not there, I cannot say. So again, I ask you to tell me where Lady Rosamond is.” He took a step closer.
Anne swallowed and folded her hands together to hide their trembling. “And why do you think they would tell me? I was used for only one purpose.”
“That was my thought, too, but my lord did not see it that way.”
There was a sudden commotion in the corridor, and Stephen frowned as he looked over his shoulder. “Excuse me, mistress. I will return in a moment.”
He didn’t even bother to close the door all the way behind him, because where would she go? But she braced her hand against the rough wall and sagged her shoulders helplessly as the tremors overtook her body. If she proved useless to them, what was to prevent them from killing her to ensure her silence? She would buy herself time by pretending she knew Lady Rosamond’s secret location. It would take awhile for them to travel to London and back to confirm her words. Surely Philip would have rescued her by then. Stephen had assured her that he wasn’t dead, and she could only hold on to that desperately.
The door opened, and she stiffened as Stephen came in again.
“Mistress, you are a fortunate woman.”
She looked around and said with sarcasm, “Strange how I do not feel fortunate.”
“I no longer need the location of Lady Rosamond, because my lord has discovered it.”
She opened her mouth, but for
a moment she could think of nothing to say. How had Bramfield found out? “Then there is no need to keep me here,” she said, trying not to let her voice tremble in desperation.
Stephen cocked his head. “It grieves me to tell you this, but we cannot allow you to leave just yet. You might prove useful. I promise I’ll have food and water sent into you.”
“Wait!” she cried, running toward the door.
But he shut it in her face, and she heard the lock tumble home.
What if they forgot about her? She was nothing to them. She would die, never having the chance to tell Philip that she loved him, to see if between them, they could find a compromise for both of their futures.
But nay, she would not die.
If she wanted a future, she had to make it happen. Beginning with the wall behind her, she searched for something that might help her, a large stone she could hit someone with, or perhaps a loose rock she could pry open into another chamber. She worked for well over an hour, ripping her delicate skirt and tearing several fingernails, but the chamber was bare.
At last she heard footsteps again, and she moved to the side of the door. Maybe the person would step far enough in that she could duck behind them and out the door. With her back pressed to the wall, she took deep breaths, trying to calm her breathing. As the lock turned, she tensed, but the door only opened a crack.
“Milady?” came a whisper that Anne would know anywhere.
“Margaret?” she said in disbelief.
The door opened wider, and Margaret entered swiftly. But a man followed behind, and Anne reared back until she saw that it was Philip. She gaped at him, he grinned back, and she knew in that moment how terrified she’d been that she would never see him again.
She threw her arms around him. He felt warm and safe and strong.
But by the loud sniffing, Margaret was the one openly crying. Anne turned and enfolded her in a tight hug.
“Thank you so much, Margaret!”
“How can ye thank me, milady?” she whispered despondently. “I brought ye here, into the house o’ the enemy.”
“You didn’t know,” Anne insisted, stepping back and holding tightly to Margaret’s shoulders. “And you’ve rescued me! If you felt you had anything to make up for, you’ve already done it.”
“We must go,” Philip said, looking back into the corridor. “I fought the guard at the top of the stairs, but he isn’t dead.”
“And a kitchen maid knows we’re here,” Margaret added. “She was to bring you a food tray, but she was so frightened of the ‘ghosts’ in the dungeon, that she accepted me offer to do it for her.”
“How did you get back into the castle, Philip?” Anne asked. “Surely they were on guard against a rescue.”
“I used John’s trick and snuck aboard a cart full of hay. I’m still itching. I was able to find Margaret in the kitchens. Now we must hurry!” He handed her a bundle. “She found you a maidservant’s gown, so that you won’t attract attention. Put it on.”
Margaret helped her unlace the ruined gown and replace it with a shabby gray one of homespun. Philip guarded the corridor. Just as Anne was about to follow him, Margaret caught her arm from behind.
“Milady, I won’t be goin’ with ye.”
“Margaret! You cannot stay in this dangerous household.”
“But if I disappear, Stephen’ll know ye’re gone, and that I helped ye. I’ll get away when ’tis safe.”
Anne squeezed the maid’s hands. “We’ll come back for you, I promise.”
“Just go, milady.” Margaret thrust a wrapped bundle into her hands. “Here are cloaks for ye both. Go with the servants heading into Ware for their daily shopping. God grant ye luck!”
Chapter 21
P hilip’s heart only slowed down when he led Anne into the woods near Bramfield Hall, where he’d hidden their horses. He still could not believe how weak in the knees he’d gotten when he saw that she was alive and unharmed and still so brave. He never again wanted to see her in danger.
Soon she wouldn’t be, for the League would not be using her services again. How would he break the news to her?
“We’ll go into Ware and find an inn,” Philip said as he tightened the horses’ girths. “You stay there, and I shall return for you as soon as I can.”
“You will not leave me behind, Philip Clifford.”
He frowned at her. “You’ve told me they know where Lady Rosamond is. Only the League knew that, which means the Bladesmen have a traitor in their midst.”
“A traitor in the League?” she whispered with horror.
“Aye,” he said grimly. “And it cannot be one of the Bladesmen already involved, for they have known the truth of Lady Rosamond’s identity for weeks. Nay, it is someone Bramfield was able to contact. We have to find Lady Rosamond before they do.”
“In all of London?”
“David left me a way to reach him.”
“And where are the Bladesmen? I was surprised when you came to Bramfield Hall alone.”
He hesitated. How would she feel to know that they considered her expendable?
“They went on to London to protect Lady Rosamond.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “They wanted me to go, too, but I refused.”
Her eyes widened. “You…broke with the League?”
“They claimed you were in no danger, so their first allegiance had to be to Lady Rosamond and the king. I could not abandon you.”
She smiled at him softly and reached up to touch his face. “Thank you. I promise that when we see Walter again, I’ll speak to him for you.”
“Anne, there is something you need to know.”
Her smile faltered. “Has someone been killed?”
“Nay, ’tis something Walter told me. Too many people have seen you as Lady Rosamond, so the League cannot invite you to join.”
She stared at him in confusion, until at last her face flushed. “Is it because I did not tell him about Margaret’s suitor? It was a terrible mistake but—”
“Nay, never think one mistake would matter! He told me that they think you have done brave, skilled work, but—”
“Speak of my foolishness no more, Philip. We don’t have time.”
Searching her eyes, seeing no emotion there, he could only nod. “You must go to Ware and await my return.”
“So you too believe I’m incapable of helping?”
He stiffened and said in a low voice, “How can you accuse me of that?”
She briefly closed her eyes. “You are right. Forgive me. If you leave me behind, how will you know that they won’t capture me again? Then they’ll be able to use me against you.”
If only that didn’t make sense.
“This is my decision, Philip, and I want to be with you.”
He wished that she would try to persuade him with kisses, anything to show him that she would get over the League’s rejection. But she just waited for his reaction.
“Very well, you can travel with me, but you must promise to obey me in all things.”
“I will.”
Anne and Philip entered London through massive gates in the ancient stone wall. Anne had never ridden on a horse through the city, and now she knew why. The streets were so crowded that several times people had to press against walls to let her pass. Twice, Philip ducked beneath a merchant’s sign that hung too low over the street. Stone buildings often had timber upper stories that leaned over the street. The stench of open sewers mingled with the smells of the slaughterhouse, and above it all smoke from cooking fires.
Anne behaved as she was supposed to, perhaps even fooled Philip into thinking that she’d recovered. But inside, all she could think was that her future with the League was gone. She reminded herself that she was luckier than most women; her dear friend Elizabeth would take her back as a lady’s maid. She would never know hunger or cold.
But she would never have her own home, for the payment given her by the League would make a poor dowry.
Despair gnawed
at the edges of her mind, but she refused to give in to it. She was used to accepting reality. She would be a part of Elizabeth’s family, help her raise her children, and try to put away any tiny feelings of envy. She would get over this desolation. And Lady Rosamond was still in such terrible danger.
London Bridge had huge stone gates at either end and another in the middle. Passing beneath the gate, Anne kept her gaze averted from the rotting heads of traitors mounted on pikes. Buildings of three and four stories lined the bridge all the way across, and when she rode between them, she felt like she was on another street rather than crossing the river. They did not have far to ride before they found the first haberdashery. The front window shutters folded down during the day, so that shoppers could see the displayed wares.
After paying a boy to watch their horses, they went inside. Anne pretended to admire the hats that graced several small cramped shelves, as she’d done once before for Walter, when all she really wanted to do was stare around her nervously. What if the traitor within the League oversaw this haberdasher? But they had no other way to reach Walter and the others.
A man came out from a room in the back and smiled at them. “Good day, sir. What might I do for you?”
Philip put the League coin and another for payment on the man’s desk. “I would like to leave a message.”
The man stared at the coins silently for a moment, and then studied them with narrowed eyes. “Very well, sir.”
So far, so good, Anne thought, sighing with relief.
“Do you have a paper and pen?” Philip asked.
The man handed over a scrap of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot. As Philip wrote, Anne said nothing, listening to the scratch of the pen and the sounds of peddlers shouting in the street. The city was so big, that even if they knew where Lady Rosamond was, it might take awhile to reach her in the traffic. Anne could only hope that they were not too late. God forbid Lady Rosamond end up like Lady Staplehill.
At last Philip rolled the parchment and tied it with a strip of leather. To Anne’s surprise, the merchant brought out a pot of heated wax and gestured for Philip to seal his missive.