He didn’t answer her, but began to manipulate the sensitive nub between her legs. She bucked and cried, and Andrew felt oddly detached, watching as if he were a disinterested bystander. It was the most un-arousing thing he’d ever done.
“Where are the guests housed?” he whispered hotly in her ear. “Do you know?”
She cried out before answering. “My sister serves at the castle,” she groaned. “In the past, I think she has said visitors are in the residence to the south of the gatehouse. That’s where she works. But the entertainers are housed with the servants. Why do ye ask so many questions about it?”
Any more questions and she would more than likely become suspicious, but Andrew had heard most of what he needed to know. At least, he had an idea now. In the residence to the south of the gatehouse. He could find it once he was able to gain access to the castle. And then, hopefully, he could find Josephine from there.
His fact-finding mission was over and he needed to get away from the woman. He manipulated her quickly until she reached her climax. Then, he jumped from the bed, going over to the basin of water to wash the smell of her from him.
Esme stretched like a cat and smiled, putting herself back together as she sat up. He turned and looked at her coldly.
“Get out,” he said.
Her smile faded and she looked at him questioningly, but she obeyed. He waited until she left before he pulled off his leather vest and threw it on the bed. Then, wearing only his trousers, black linen tunic, and thigh-high black war boots, he strapped on his sword and went to find Sully.
*
Sully was having a merry time where Andrew had left him. He and the three women were howling with laughter when Andrew came upon them.
“Montgomery,” he said and jerked his head towards the door.
Sully nodded, patting the women as he stood up and followed. He waved and blew a kiss as if he were actually sorry to be leaving.
“God in heaven!” he exclaimed softly once they were outside. “I thought you would never come back!”
Andrew looked grim. “I had to discover what I could,” he said. “Believe me when I say that I took no pleasure in it.”
“What did you discover?”
“That Josephine was probably brought in today,” he said. “She said a woman had been brought in by a knight. Who does that sound like to you?”
Sully’s eyes narrowed as he pondered that question. “A knight brought her in?” he said. “Who could that be? The king took everyone with him when he left.”
Andrew shook his head. “Clearly, not everyone,” he said. “He sent a knight to retrieve Josephine and bring her to Edinburgh. Did you meet any of the knights that the king brought with him?”
Sully thought hard. “I think there were a few,” he said. “But I think I saw them with the king when he left.”
“All of them?”
Sully shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure,” he said honestly. “But who would he have sent after Josephine?”
“His best, probably.”
A light went on in Sully’s mind. “What about that bodyguard who shadows him?” he said. “The big bastard. Someone told me he was an English knight, gifted to Alexander from Henry.”
Andrew knew to whom he was referring and, suddenly, what Esme told him made some sense. “Sassenach,” he hissed. “The woman told me the knight who brought the woman to the castle today was a Sassenach. It had to be the bodyguard. I met him when I went to greet the king’s entourage when they first approached Torridon and he was out in front, protecting the king. De Reyne, I think his name was.”
“De Reyne?” Sully repeated. “I think I ran into him once or twice, but I can’t say we shared any conversation.”
“Conversation or not, he is the only Sassenach I know within the king’s entourage and Esme identified him,” Andrew said. “He is our culprit. Esme also said that visitors are housed in a structure south of the gatehouse, so I would assume that was where he took Josephine. We have a starting point now.”
“One of the vultures you left me with in there told me that her sister is a kitchen servant at the castle,” Sully said with a twinkle in his eye. “She will do anything for the right price.”
That was good news, exactly what they’d been hoping for. They’d reached their horses at this point and paused, determining what they were going to do next.
“Mayhap she can tell me where Josephine is,” Andrew said. “How do we find this woman?”
Sully was rather smug in his reply. “Even as we speak, my new friend is sending word to her sister at the castle that there is money to be made for information,” he said. “Her suggestion was that we stay until very late tonight or even tomorrow morning and wait for her sister to come to us. We will need the woman’s help to enter the grounds because there is only one way in and one way out. We will need her advice.”
Andrew glanced up at the massive castle behind them, perched high on a rock. The crag itself was rocky and sheer, and to try and climb into the castle would be impossible at best. He hated that he was so close and could do nothing to get any closer to Josephine; anxiety ate at him but he fought it off, knowing that there was literally nothing he could do until the morrow.
But the thought was killing him.
I am coming, Joey! Be brave!
“Very well,” he said unhappily. “Then we will stay here tonight and meet with this woman when she arrives. I suppose there is nothing we can do until then, anyway.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Now that their path for the night was set, they collected the horses and headed over to the livery across the road to bed them down. But after that, they would return to the inn for a good meal, a warm bed, and to fight off the women they’d so openly seduced. It could prove for a very interesting evening.
“Tell me, Sully,” Andrew said as they collected their weary horses. “How did you obtain such information without resorting to physical bribery?”
Sully grinned. “Quite simple,” he said. “I am persuasive as well as handsome and charming. Have you not noticed?”
He could hear Andrew laughing all the way into the livery.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Josephine sat at the king’s table in the great hall of the castle, but she was too distressed to eat.
God help her, this was the worst thing she’d ever faced.
When the king would turn in her direction, she would dutifully put small pieces of bread in her mouth and struggle to chew it. The king sat on her right, watching her with great interest as he sipped his wine. She was well aware that she was being watched and was vastly uncomfortable at his attention.
In fact, she was vastly uncomfortable with the entire situation.
It was horrible and disorienting. The noise in the hall was deafening because there were easily five hundred people in the hall; all eating, belching, laughing, and farting. Josephine was a little overwhelmed by all of the commotion and that contributed to her lack of appetite. But more than that, she simply didn’t want to be there. She felt like a prized mare on display.
Nicholas sat on Josephine’s left throughout the evening and he could see that, clearly, something was very wrong. She wasn’t the same happy, sweet person he’d met at Torridon. She was sad and quiet. So, he spoke to her gently throughout the meal and tried to make her laugh with small jokes. She would smile weakly but rarely more than that as he tried very hard to cheer her. Sadly, it was a losing battle.
As Nicholas tried to entertain Josephine, there was another important player at the table who had only been introduced. Marie de Coucy, wife of Alexander, sat to the right of her husband, a darkly handsome woman with a weathered look about her. She and the king had been married for fifteen years and she had provided him with an heir. Even so, there were a half-dozen royal bastards running about, which deeply humiliated the woman of royal blood.
But Marie was a realist. She had long ago resigned herself to endure her husband’s liaisons with
quiet ignorance. She had too much dignity and pride to acknowledge her husband’s many indiscretions, even when the results were paraded in front of her. She wasn’t entirely holy, though. She was as cold as stone and possessed what some had characterized as an evil streak.
Whispers in the castle said Marie was worse than her husband ever was.
Josephine hoped she wouldn’t ever have to find that out for herself. She had been introduced to her at the beginning of the meal, but the woman had barely acknowledged her. In fact, Josephine was acutely aware of the queen’s cutting glances as the meal went on. Josephine was afraid of very little but, for some reason, this woman frightened her. There was something in her eyes that suggested something dark beneath.
Down on the floor below the dais, Ridge sat at the table for senior soldiers and officers, watching the dynamics happening at the king’s table. He had cleaned up since his arrival to Edinburgh, clean-shaven and in fine clothing now. But he watched Josephine as she brooded over her supper and saw Nicholas’ attempts to engage her. Since the moment she’d been taken away from him in the castle yard, he found himself increasingly concerned with her fate. Then at the same time, he was disturbed that he seemed to personally concern himself with it. He wasn’t in love with her, even if he did find her extremely attractive, but he sensed that she was a rare woman. It was hard for him to describe, even to himself, how he felt. The closest he could come was a brotherly sense of protectiveness.
But sometimes, those were the most fierce.
As he sat there and mulled over Lady Josephine’s situation, the music started loudly and a group of acrobats flooded forward, putting themselves on the empty floor between the dais and the rest of the diners. They flipped, juggled, and gyrated, but Ridge wasn’t watching them. He was looking at Josephine as she noticed him and was now looking back at him.
He thought he could see the condemnation in her eyes.
Ridge watched as she tore her eyes away from him and glanced at the king, who was totally enthralled with some half-nude female dancers. As the man was so distracted, she turned to Nicholas and whispered something to him, and they both rose and quietly slipped from the table and discreetly left the room.
Ridge stood, took a deep gulp of wine, and followed.
Unaware that Ridge was trailing them, Nicholas and Josephine left the noise and lights of the feast and wandered out into evening. Across from the hall, tucked up against a rise in the natural rock, was a garden of sorts with a reservoir and organized plants. The night was surprisingly mild and the smell of greenery floated on the air as they strolled among the darkened area with growth and the reservoir. Nicholas glanced at Josephine, hoping her mood was lightening somewhat.
“Do ye have a garden at Torridon?” he asked.
Josephine shook her head regretfully. “Nay,” she said. “Once, my mother had the beginnings of one, but it died when she did because no one took care of it. I have never had the time or the inclination to start another.”
“But ye had time to paint,” Nicholas said, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am still very much interested in seeing more of yer work. It is something ye should continue, Josephine, truly. Such talent his rare.”
She shrugged modestly. “Mayhap, one day, I shall,” she said. “Considering the state of my future, continuing a hobby seems so far away. Foolish, even.”
They found a stone bench next to the reservoir, which turned out to be more of a pond with fish in it, and sat underneath the nearly full moon. Strains of music and laughter floated through the air and could be heard in the distance as they sat in silence.
Off to their left, leaves rustled and crunched. It was clear that someone was approaching. Nicholas rose in alarm, clutching at the dirk at his side, and Josephine stood, her face full of concern. As the noises came closer, Nicholas visibly tensed and Josephine looked about her to see what would make a good weapon.
But Ridge pushed through the bushes, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the look on Nicholas’ face, and Nicholas exhaled sharply.
“Good Christ, Ridge,” he exclaimed softly. “Ye nearly gave me fits!”
Ridge fought off a smile. “Good eve,” he greeted casually, then nodded at Nicholas’ waistband. “Were you planning to use that?”
Nicholas sheathed the dirk. “If I had to,” he said. “What brings ye out into the gardens?”
Ridge shrugged, looking up into the diamond sky. “I longed for peace away from the screaming and twitching of the great hall,” he said. “All of those people writhing about on the floor look as if they are experiencing a bad batch of ale.”
Josephine laughed softly as she sat down on the bench again. Ridge watched her appreciatively.
“If I may be so bold, my lady, you look as lovely as the flowers that surround you,” he said.
Nicholas rolled his eyes as Josephine nodded graciously. He knew Ridge well and had never heard him utter such ridiculous prose. In fact, he and Ridge were friends and he liked the man a great deal. But the poetry from his mouth was nonsense.
“Sweet words do not suit ye, Ridge,” he said.
“Shut your lips, Nicholas,” Josephine snapped good-naturedly, then looked at the soldier. “You speak them as if they were born to you. Ignore Nicholas.”
“I always do,” Ridge said dryly, eyeing Nicholas. “Yet in spite of my efforts, he never completely goes away. So, I am forced to associate with him and call him friend.”
“The same is said for ye, de Reyne,” Nicholas said, sitting back down next to Josephine. “Now, why are ye here?”
But Josephine was just coming to realize the two knew, and liked, one another. “I did not know you were friends,” she said. “Nicholas, you spent all of your time with Donald whilst at Torridon. I never saw Ridge with you at all.”
Nicholas lifted his shoulders. “Because he is my uncle’s bodyguard,” he said. “When we travel, Ridge never leaves his side, not even for a moment.”
She looked at Ridge. “Yet you leave his side now?”
Ridge nodded. “There are others in the hall who protect the king,” he said. “He does not need me at the moment. Besides, when I saw the two of you leave the hall, I had to come follow. You should not be left unchaperoned with Lady Josephine, Nicholas. She is spoken for.”
Josephine’s smile vanished and Nicholas shot Ridge a nasty look. It was a very blunt statement that had displeased them both and reminded them of why Josephine was really here. Here to face a horrific beast of a betrothed. When Ridge realized he’d been insensitive, the jesting ceased.
“Forgive me, my lady,” he said quietly. “I did not mean to sound so callous.”
“He cannot help himself, Josephine,” Nicholas put in. “He is a cad.”
Ridge nodded readily. “I am, indeed.”
Josephine looked at him with sad eyes. “I would believe that,” she said. “But even so, I do not sense ill from you. I never have. Somewhere beneath that knightly exterior, I would imagine you are a man of morals and character.”
Nicholas nodded before Ridge could respond. “He is,” he said. “And my uncle torments him for it.”
Josephine looked at Ridge with concern. “Is this true?”
Ridge looked uncomfortable, asked a question he did not want to answer. But out of politeness, he was forced to come up with some manner of response.
“I serve the king,” he said simply. “He is not obligated to treat me any way other than how he wishes to.”
Nicholas’ face darkened. “Ye’re a saint, Ridge,” he said. Then, he looked at Josephine. “My uncle and his courtiers speak the Scottish when Ridge is around and call him Sassenach and English bastard, among other things. I’ve heard them. Ridge never acknowledges it, but sometimes I would like to punch them all for what they do. In fact, I’d be willing to wager that my uncle forced Ridge to abduct ye and bring ye to Edinburgh. Isn’t that true, Ridge?”
Ridge was looking at his passionate young friend in the darkness. “I am the king’s to c
ommand, Nicholas,” he said quietly. “It does not matter what the order is. I must obey it.”
Nicholas made a face. “I knew it,” he hissed. “Rather than escort ye honorably from Torridon, my uncle took the easy way out. He had Ridge sneak ye out. That way, if Andrew caught Ridge and killed him, my uncle would be blameless. He could say that he did not tell Ridge to take ye.”
Josephine was rather horrified to hear all of this. She looked at Ridge and felt very sorry for the man. “Does he truly abuse you so, Ridge?”
Ridge wouldn’t acknowledge what they were driving at. He was a man of great pride, a knight of the highest order, and to seek sympathy for his treatment was beneath him. He bore it as he always did; with dignity.
“He is the king and can do as he pleases,” he said simply. “And that includes directives towards you, Lady Josephine. He is the king, you are his subject, and there is nothing any of us can do about it.”
That was the truth, but a most depressing truth. Josephine could see that, much like herself, Ridge was simply a pawn. Evidently an abused pawn and even if the man had abducted her from Torridon, it wasn’t as if he’d taken any joy in it. He was only doing what he’d been told. As she sat there thinking about their intertwined lives, she began to feel very cold and very exhausted. It had been an extremely long day.
“As you say, Ridge,” she said quietly. “As much as I would like to sit here and continue this conversation, I find that I am quite weary. I should like to retire.”
Nicholas shot to his feet. “May I escort ye, my lady?”
Ridge didn’t even ask; he simply reached out and took Josephine’s hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm. There was a bond they shared, as strange as it was, and his brotherly instincts were taking over.
As Nicholas followed the pair, quite unhappy that he was left without the lady on his arm, Ridge escorted Josephine back to her lovely chambers where the army of servants, led by Madelaine, was waiting to put her to bed.
The Red Fury Page 34