by Rue Allyn
Gennie looked at him as if he had grown three new heads.
“Well.” He finally looked at her, and thrust his hand closer when she did not take it.
Gennie shook her head and sidled out of reach.
“What is wrong with you? We must return to camp now.” The words rushed at her like arrows.
Her daze broke at the sound. She darted around him and out of the clearing.
Haven watched her flee, since she was headed back to the rest of their party. But for several moments he stood gazing after her. I kissed her speechless. He smiled at the thought. He savored the remembered flavors of her mouth, the lavender-cream scent of her and the texture of her trembling body’s response to his.
Still, the kiss was a mistake that he would not make again. He had lost all control and placed them both in danger. If he ever again kissed Genvieve Dreyford he would be certain they were safe and secure from all interruption. Of course, another chance to kiss the widow was unlikely at best, given the way Edward felt about traitors.
Even worse, she was Roger’s widow. To dally with her would be to dishonor his friendship with Roger, and that Haven would never do. Nor would he break the oath he gave to that condemned friend to protect the man’s family. What kind of protection would it be to bed his friend’s wife? No, touching the woman again was out of the question.
Chapter Seven
Haven stepped out of the woods and saw Gennie standing on the opposite side of the clearing. She spoke with Therese, her gestures sharp and impatient. The widow was still flustered. Obviously he had a strong affect on her. The thought pleased him and broadened his smile. Therese departed, throwing a glare at Haven as she did so. He considered going to the widow, but before he could decide, Soames approached with Lindel in tow. So Haven turned his grin on his second-in-command.
“What ho, Soames?”
“Sir, Lindel has news of those riders to the north.”
Haven’s grin became a thin line with the speed of a Welsh arrow. He gestured for the two men to accompany him into the trees sheltering the edge of the clearing. “Tell me.”
“Sir,” Lindel spoke quietly, “I followed the tracks, as Soames ordered. Since the day after we left York, fifteen armed men have ridden the same course as ours about a league to the north. Sometimes one or two of them break off to come south and watch our party. Yesterday, when we crossed the river, they remained on the other side.”
“Have any forded the river to continue their watch on us?”
“Nay, sir. The far bank is higher ground, so they need not approach to keep eyes on our progress.”
A muscle twitched in Haven’s cheek. He rubbed the spot, reminded of another day when trouble had loomed. A day when he battled back-to-back with Roger Dreyford over an ever-growing pile of bodies. “The river runs faster now than before. I doubt they’ll find good fords nearby. What think you, Soames?”
“I think three things. First, they may do as we do, guarding their backs by watching other travelers closely. Second, they may simply be stupid vandals. Third, they may be extremely clever, especially if they know more about this area than we.”
“Aye.” Haven continued to soothe his cheek, which now cramped most painfully, just as it had in the Holy Lands. “’Tis that third possibility that concerns me most.”
“We could attack them, sir.” Lindel’s eyes gleamed with the suggestion of a fight.
“Nay, we could not bring our full force against theirs, for someone would have to guard the widow and her charges. That would leave us outnumbered.”
Soames frowned. “As yet they do not know we watch them. Let us leave the less-experienced men to guard the widow. The rest of us are among Edward’s best fighting men and have been outnumbered many times before. Do you doubt we could use surprise to our advantage?”
“I am confident in our abilities, as ever. And surprise, as you say, would be an advantage. But not, I think, sufficient advantage to overcome the difference in numbers and the fact that they hold the higher ground. No, attacking them now would be a foolish waste and could leave us prey to others. As long as we are prepared to defend ourselves and they remain on the opposite side of the river, we need do nothing more than keep careful watch.”
“Aye, sir.” The two men echoed their understanding.
“Lindel, go get you some food from the cook. Then, continue to keep watch on those men across the river.” The warrior nodded and walked away.
Haven turned to his second-in-command. “Soames, we are making better progress since York, but we will still fail to reach Edward in Chester at our current pace.”
“I doubt the boy and his aunt can go much faster, sir.”
“I agree. That is why I have decided to go on ahead with the widow. We can be in Chester within a few days’ hard riding. I can wait for you there, once I have discharged my duty to Edward.”
“Should you not take more men with you for protection?”
“Mayhap, I should. But I do not intend to fight. Should I come across any trouble, I intend to avoid it. A third rider might make that more difficult to do.”
“Another man could delay an attack long enough for you and Lady Genvieve to escape.”
“’Tis a good point. I will think on it.”
“Think you that the lady can keep up?”
“1 will make sure of it.”
Soames nodded. “As you say, sir.”
“Good. Have Watley prepare my steed and the gray mare. They are the fastest and strongest. When they are ready, the widow and I will leave. You must follow with all possible speed.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And, Soames…”
“Sir?”
“Have a care for the boy. I doubt it much that Thomas has ever been separated from his mother before.”
“Aye, Sir Haven.”
“I will go inform the widow of our change in plans.”
Across the clearing, Gennie rubbed her upper arms. The heat of de Sessions’s embrace lingered there. She still tingled from top to toe, as if the wings of a thousand butterflies beat against her skin from the inside. The feel of his lips on hers remained. Even Therese’s sour complaints had not lessened the remembered sweetness of Haven’s touch. How, Gennie wondered, could she find pleasure in the arms of the man who had betrayed his friend—her husband? She must be mad.
Therese had departed after spilling her venom about the discomforts de Sessions imposed upon them. Merci Dieu. Gennie had not even had the energy to scold the maid for breaking her vow of silence. Gennie needed to be alone, to consider what and how she felt about that terrifying kiss and the man who had given it to her. A man she knew could not be trusted.
Look how he undermined her confidence and made her doubt her own sanity. Conflicting feelings raced through her. E’er she could gather her thoughts, de Sessions approached and stole what little calm she had been able to gather.
“Madame, we have very little time to get to Chester.”
“I told you, sir, that the journey could not be done in less than fourteen days.”
“So you did, but I have never failed in my duty to my king, and I will not do so now. You and I will stand before the king in Chester before the next se’enight is out.”
“Just how do you plan to work such a miracle?”
“We will leave my men and your party behind and ride posthaste to Chester.”
Gennie felt her heart leap to her throat. “Thomas?”
“Will be quite safe with Soames and my men to guard him. He’ll have his nurse and his aunt for comfort.”
Gennie nodded, only somewhat reassured, for she might never see her son again. She swallowed, realizing that this decision was out of her hands. “How…?”
“Since we obtained extra horses in York, you and I no longer need to keep to the slower pace of your son and his aunt. We will take the two fastest mounts and proceed with all speed to Chester. We will stop for naught but to rest the horses. Is that clear?”
She no
dded again, unwilling to voice her fears at the too fast approach of her fate.
“Then make what preparations you can and say your farewells. We leave as soon as our mounts are ready.”
Gennie went in search of her sister-in-law. Before saying goodbye to Thomas, Gennie wanted to inform Rebecca of the change in plans and advise her how best to help Thomas through a difficult time.
She found the girl with Marie. Marie was shouting at Rebecca, who cringed and twisted her hands in the face of the nurse’s ire. While Marie did not normally hesitate to speak her mind, she rarely unleashed such fury. Something was very wrong.
“Marie.” Gennie voiced all the authority she possessed to halt the nurse’s verbal barrage.
“Milady.” The woman’s tone dropped to a respectful tone.
Rebecca uttered a sound that was half whimper, half gasp, before covering her face with her hands.
“What goes on here?”
Marie eyed Rebecca critically. “Rebecca should tell you, milady.”
The girl shook her head. “I cannot,” muffled out from behind her hands.
Impatient with her sister-in-law’s hysterics, Gennie asked, “What must Rebecca tell me?”
“That Thomas is missing, Lady Genvieve.”
Gennie’s vision grayed and her world tilted. She felt someone’s arms support her. Through the buzzing in her ears she heard Marie shout, “Rebecca, go fetch Sir Haven this instant.”
When Gennie’s vision cleared and the buzzing stopped, she found herself seated on a rock, her face and hands gently patted by Marie. Still, Gennie could not seem to find breath with which to speak either question or worry.
From somewhere behind her, de Sessions’s voice prodded her out of panic.
“Rebecca, fetch a drink for your sister-in-law. While you are about that, tell Soames to have all the horses saddled, and when he has done so to gather the men and attend me.”
The order snapped across the air. His calm question followed. “Are you well, madame?”
“Well?” The words strangled out of her as fear and anger battled within. “Of course I am well. It is my son who is far from well. And if you think I will leave without seeing him safe in Soames’s care, you are more of a fool than I thought possible.”
“Nay.” His face came into her line of vision as Haven knelt before her. He took her hands from Marie. “We will not leave until Thomas is safe. No doubt the boy just followed a rabbit too far into the wood.”
Heat from his hands seeped through her fingers and up her arms. She had not realized how cold she was. She looked into his brown eyes and saw compassion there. It nearly undid her. “Please, find my son.”
“He will be found with all possible speed.”
Haven looked up as Rebecca returned. He took the cup from her and placed it in the widow’s hands, then he stood.
“Nurse, who was last to see Thomas?”
“I do not know, sir. I left the child with his aunt and stepped into the woods for a moment of privacy.” Marie looked accusingly at Rebecca.
The girl trembled slightly, but she held her arms folded before her. A mulish pout decorated her mouth.
Haven pierced her with a glance. She dropped her arms. “When did you last see him, mistress?”
“A few moments after Marie departed.”
“How long ago was that?”
“I am not certain. I know you and Lady Genvieve had not yet left the clearing together.”
Haven thought back, estimating the amount of time that had passed since his encounter with the widow, and found himself appalled. “You left a child unattended that long?”
“Marie said she would return quickly. I waited. When Watley came by, I told Thomas to wait right here, since I wished private speech with Watley.”
“I see.” Haven spoke in his most forbidding tone. No doubt the desired speech with his squire was nothing more than a flirtation.
“Nurse, how long were you gone?”
“Not long at all, sir. Yet when I returned, neither Thomas nor Rebecca was here.”
“Did you go looking for them?”
“I searched the entire area. Until I found Mistress Rebecca dallying with your squire.”
Haven made a mental note to lecture his squire on his proper place and the dangers of girlish flirtations. “Is that when you discovered that Thomas was gone?”
“Not quite, sir. First I boxed that squire’s ears, begging your pardon. Then I gave Mistress Rebecca a sorely needed lesson about young men. Only when Mistress Rebecca tried to excuse her behavior did I realize that she had no more idea of Thomas’s whereabouts than I.”
At that moment Soames arrived. “You asked for me, sir?”
“Aye, Soames. Thomas is missing.”
The man paled and shot a quick glance toward the river and the suspected location of the unidentified men who had been traveling a similar course to their own. “How…?”
“We do not know,” Haven cut in. “He may have followed a rabbit too deeply into the wood.” Haven shared Soames’s concern about the armed men from across the river, but he did not want to add abduction to the widow’s worries.
“What are your orders?”
“We’ll stay the night here. Even if we find Thomas quickly, his mother will want to spend some time with him before we have to travel again. Choose three men to remain with the widow as guards and to set up camp. I want everyone else searching for that boy. We start at the river’s edge and sweep the area forward past this clearing to one league.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Send one man upstream and one man down. Tell them to search both banks for any sign of Thomas, but not to leave the riverside except to return here. I will take the reports of all men when we return to the clearing. Any questions?”
“Nay, sir.”
“Then assemble the men. I will follow.”
Soames left, and Haven turned his attention to the widow. She no longer trembled, but she was pale and tense.
“Madame, I promise you, I will not rest until I have Thomas safe.”
“Thank you.”
The barely audible whisper squeezed his heart. She showed remarkable courage. He had expected her to demand that she accompany them in the search. Instead, she accepted his orders. With extraordinary calm, the widow placed her son’s life in the hands of a man she claimed not to trust with her own.
“Marie, keep your mistress well. Thomas will need her when he returns.”
“Aye, sir.”
Haven left swiftly. If he lingered, he feared he might gather the widow into his arms.
Chapter Eight
Haven studied the faces of Soames and the rest of the men. All save two had returned, and each face told the same story. He felt a similar despair written on his own visage. He dismissed the men, telling them to get some rest. When they had all dispersed about the camp, Soames remained.
“You wished to speak with me, Soames?”
“Aye, sir. I am somewhat worried about Lindel and Bergen. They should have returned from searching the riverbanks by now.”
Haven felt his mouth settle into a grim line. “I know, but as long as they remain away, there is still some hope that Thomas will be found. I do not relish the duty of telling the widow her son is stolen or drowned. Let us be certain first.”
“’Tis the stolen part that has me worried.”
“Did you warn the men not to leave the riverbank except to return here?”
“So I did, but both men are fond of the boy. I think either man would pursue a trail if he found one. Were that the case and should the trail lead to those armed men, mayhap our man too is now prisoner or dead.”
“That would be unfortunate, for then we would have to fight them, and Edward would be upset should we lose.”
“Why should we lose? We have an almost equal number of men and surely the battle prowess of our men would measure up to, if not surpass, our opponents.”
“Aye but you yourself taught me that the
re is more to winning in battle than simple numbers. And I suspect that men who can steal a boy from under our noses have the kind of cleverness needed to sway the numbers in their favor. No.” Haven rubbed his twitching cheek. “A battle is not my best choice.”
“You would not fight just to get Thomas back?”
“If Thomas is with these men, I would steal him back. But if I were them, I would suspect that and be extra vigilant until I had put more distance between us.”
Soames nodded sagely. “Then what will you do, sir? What will you say to Lady Genvieve?”
“Indeed, Sir Haven, what will you tell my brother’s widow has happened to Thomas? What excuse will you give her for the convenient loss of a reminder that together you and the king murdered Roger Dreyford?”
Surprised, Haven turned together with Soames to look at Rebecca. Rage distorted the pretty girl’s features into a hideous mask. The expression shocked Haven, for up to this point the girl had been obedient, if rather sullen and silent. Could she have overheard his refusal to attack the men on the opposite side of the river? He had deliberately not told the women and servants about the fifteen men, to avoid just such a confrontation as he was having now. Or was her outburst the result of a guilty conscience?
Regardless, her hysteria had to be stopped now. He had neither the time nor the inclination to indulge the girl’s temper. “Quiet yourself.” He used the same tone that he employed on the battlefield to shake sense back into green warriors who panicked at the first charge. “You know naught of what you speak.” He continued in a softer voice. Unfortunately his words fell on deaf ears.
The fury in Rebecca’s face fled, rapidly replaced by tears and sobs. “You great hulking bully,” she wailed. “You kill your friends and abandon small boys to the wilderness. What will you do next, sir? Will you rape my sister-in-law and me, then sell our servants for slaves? You are more cruel than the king…”
Haven watched in horror as the girl ranted on, drawing the attention of all in the camp. Never in his entire career in the king’s service had his command failed to restore order. Appalled at the effect of his words, Haven hesitated, uncertain for once in his life of what action to take.