The Pleasure Garden: Sacred VowsPerfumed PleasuresRites of Passions

by Amanda McIntyre

  She paced the room, weighing how best to explain her decision to Gregory. It occurred to her that it could even be called a change of heart, for she had never really loved him, not in the way she loved Edmund. Cara stopped, taking a deep breath as her gaze fell on the settee. Gregory needed to know, and the best way, the most kind way, would be to speak with him face-to-face.

  She opened the door and her maidservant leaped to her feet. Cara noted, however, that she would not look at her directly. “I need your help,” she said, hoping that she could appeal to her compassion. “I need to speak to Master DeVerden.”

  The young girl’s eyes lifted to hers. “Yes, Mum. I know he was to meet with his father before the evening meal. In his study is where the master has his family meetings.”

  “Will you take me there?”

  She nodded, and they set off down the stairs in silence.

  After reaching the main level, and following a number of corridors, the maidservant stopped and, with her eyes cast to the ground, spoke. “I am allowed no farther, madam. No woman is permitted in this hall.”

  Cara peeked around one of the great marble columns that lined either side of the hall. At the far end was a wide door and standing sentinel was a lone guard. She eased back and swallowed, clenching her palms, which were clammy from anxiety. How would Gregory and his family react to this news? What consequences might there be for her family? Or would he assume that her refusal had something to do with Edmund’s return?

  The sound of a latch turning caused Cara to push the young girl into the shadow of one of the massive columns. She heard the voices of two men in conversation as they made their way down the hall. Becoming aware that she’d clamped her palm over the girl’s mouth, Cara released her hand and placed a finger on her lips. Much to her relief the maid nodded, seeming to understand her request. Cara considered stepping out before they reached the turn at the end of the hall, as though they’d been on a casual walk about the castle, but the dialogue between the two men, one of whom she recognized as Gregory, gave her pause, and she listened closer.

  “Once you have her dowry, it will be easy enough to do away with the village. A simple grass fire from one of their incessant bonfires ought to take care of removing those Gaelic pains in the king’s ass.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. What was she hearing?

  “Does the girl suspect anything?” Gregory’s father spoke, and the sound of his voice on the opposite side of the column stuck fear in Cara’s heart. She held her breath, mentally searching for the easiest route out of the castle.

  “No, she is far too enamored with my promise to bring her family to live here at the castle to think of much else. There may be one problem, though his naivety still astounds me—that is Edmund.”

  How could she have been so blind not to see that the English king would somehow have his hands in this union? Cara wondered. But the extermination of her people? And they called the Gaels barbarians! Had she really been so naive to think that she’d found someone who cared for her as she’d once believed Edmund did?

  The two men had stopped near where the two women were tucked in the dark shadows. Cara reached down and slipped her hand around the servant’s, squeezing it. To her good fortune the girl seemed to be on her side.

  “Collier?” Gregory’s father snapped matter-of-factly.

  “Yes,” Gregory replied, though his tone smacked more of annoyance than concern. Cara’s jaw ticked as she held back the urge to tear his eyes out. “But if my suspicions are correct, my dear friend’s honor and allegiance to his sanctimonious religious life will be my greatest ally, just as it was three years ago, Father. It worked in our favor then, keeping Edmund’s father where you needed him, and I have no doubt it will work again for our purpose now.”

  “And if that Gaelic tart is able to persuade him differently?”

  Gregory’s low chuckle sent a chill up Cara’s spine. “Then there any number of accidents that can happen while two good friends are taking a walk in the woods.”

  She closed her eyes, angry that she’d fallen for his scheming lies and that she’d led her family and her people right into this English snare. She waited until the men had moved on down the hall before she took her next breath. It was imperative that she warn her family and Edmund.

  She looked at the young girl and knelt in front of her. “What is your name, child?” Cara asked. The girl could not have been more than a dozen years, if that.

  “Anne,” she replied, blinking her soft blue eyes.

  “I need you to return to your post outside my chambers, and if asked, say you have not seen or heard from me since leaving me to rest. Will you do this for me?”

  “May I speak freely, milady?” the young girl whispered.

  Cara nodded. “Of course. Are you concerned for your well-being?”

  “Not for myself. My concern is for Master Collier. He was always kind to me when he frequented the castle with Master DeVerden, as I swear on my oath that Master DeVerden was not. I suspect the young master and his father are not to be trusted. To that end I give you my troth.” She took Cara’s hand. “Where will you go, milady?”

  Cara shook her head. “I can say no more. So you will do this?”

  The girl nodded.

  Cara hugged her tight.

  “Go down the last hall to a spiral stair that will take you into the storage chambers for winter food. Follow the hall to the end and you will find a door that takes you into an alleyway of the village, outside the castle wall. From there, you are on your own.”

  “Thank you,” Cara replied, releasing her. She checked the hall to be certain the way was clear.

  “Milady?”

  Cara looked over her shoulder.

  “Do you wish for me to give Master Collier a message?”

  The young girl was wiser than her years and had likely heard the goings-on in Cara’s chambers. Still, Cara could not risk giving the girl any more information. She’d already asked too much of her. “No, Anne. What will be will be. I leave it in the hands of the gods and goddesses now.”

  9

  EDMUND LOOKED UP FROM HIS SOUP, WATCHING as the steward bent to whisper something in Gregory’s ear. Guilt assuaged him when Gregory’s dark eyes darted to the empty chair that presumably was Cara’s. He then looked at Edmund.

  “Milord, is there a problem?” Edmund wasn’t certain he truly wanted the answer to that question.

  “It is Cara. It seems she is not in her room and her maid cannot find her. You wouldn’t happen to have any idea where she might be?”

  Edmund shook his head. “Of course not, but if I may be of service…”

  Gregory eyed him. “She may be in the castle, but she may also have decided to explore the gardens. She may have fallen and twisted her ankle.” He tossed his napkin on the table. “Excuse me, miladies and milords…” He bowed and left the table.

  Edmund excused himself and followed him into the hall. “Is there something I can do?”

  Gregory whirled on his heel and pinned Edmund with a dark look. “Oddly, I would say that you know her nearly as well as I do. Where do you suppose she has wandered off to?”

  Edmund could not dismiss the underlying tone of his question. Despite his guilt, and his curiosity over Gregory’s sudden jealousy, Edmund’s chief concern was for Cara’s safe return. He hoped that her disappearance had nothing to do with what had happened earlier between them, though his gut told him it did. “If you would like, I could take a horse and search the woods near the gardens.” He knew Gregory would recognize the area. It was where they’d tromped many a time in their youth, the very place, in fact, where they’d sneaked into the Beltane festival.

  “Ah, yes, the old abbey tower,” Gregory said, almost as an afterthought. “Good idea. I will organize a search party of the castle. And be sure to check her father’s house. Perhaps she has had second thoughts.”

  Edmund smiled and patted Gregory on the back. “She would be a fool to do that.”
/>   “Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

  Edmund continued down the hall toward the stables, hoping that he could find Cara and talk some sense into her.

  “Pssst, Master Collier.”

  Edmund heard the soft voice of a girl coming from inside a dark room. A hand reached out and motioned to him. He checked over his shoulder and slipped inside, easing the door shut. “Who is this?” he stated in a hushed whisper.

  “It is Anne, milord. Milady Ormond’s chamber maid.”

  “Anne, of course, but you’re much older now.” Edmund wished he had some light to see the child’s face.

  “Aye, milord, eleven now. She asked me not to speak to anyone. But you have never given me reason not to trust you.”

  “Thank you, Anne. Your faith means a great deal, please, if you know what has happened to Lady Ormond, tell me quick. We’ve not much time.”

  “Milady has run away.”

  His worst fears confirmed, Edmund reached out and found the warmth of the girl’s arm. “I mean you no harm, but you must tell me where she is.”

  “She would not say, milord. Only that she cannot marry Master DeVerden.”

  Edmund did not wish to waste more time in trying to find out why. He already knew that. “Very well, return to your station and say nothing of this to anyone,” he cautioned. He slipped back into the hallway and called to the guards. “You two, follow the riverbank. You two check the Gael village. I will search the tower and abbey grounds. Check everywhere.”

  The last dredges of sunlight deepened the shadows as he urged his horse across the open valley that separated the English Pale from the rest of Ireland. He thought of that fateful night when he’d met Cara. How beautiful she was! But he could not think of one moment in that night when Gregory had ever mentioned he might have feelings for Cara. She was nothing to him, any more than any other women he’d bedded before. A strange, disturbing realization began to dawn in Edmunds head, making him question Gregory’s friendship. Being of true English birth, and Edmund of Norman, or Old English blood, the two had never allowed political obstacles to affect their friendship. Only now, Edmund questioned whether it was still the case.

  The tower, showing signs of decay, stood tall in the waning light. Edmund dismounted and held the torch high to light his path through the meadow with its labyrinth, now nothing more than an overgrown field. Only a handful of the orchard trees remained. But the garden, surrounded on three sides by a tangled mass of shrubbery and dead branches, remained just as he remembered it that night.

  Cautiously, Edmund started to open the gate, then jerked his hand back abruptly. Flashing the light over the spot, he discovered the garish grin of the Green Man mask, left where he’d hung it years before. Edmund chuckled at his skittishness. “Hello, old friend. It’s been a while,” he said quietly. He swore one of the eyes winked, then reasoned it was only a play of the shadows. The gate opened with ease and he was surprised that by now it wouldn’t have fallen into disrepair. Inside, a cool breeze met him, filled with the scent of a fresh meadow after a rain on a beautiful summer night. Did he imagine the heady scent of roses?

  “Cara?” Edmund called into the darkness. He did not relish being out here alone. Not that he believed in such things as ghosts and magical spirits, but this place brought back memories he’d fought too long to erase. His foot kicked something in the grass, and he knelt down, finding one of Cara’s slippers.

  She was here.

  “Edmund?” Her familiar voice issued from the door leading to the tower room.

  He moved quickly toward where he remembered the fountain, crouching low to avoid the growth of brush and tree limbs. “Cara?” he called, keeping his voice low.

  “Tell them you could not find me.”

  “Cara, you must see reason. You cannot stay out here. It is too dangerous. Even now, the guests are beginning to arrive. We have talked about this, and I beg you to do what is best for all.”

  “Nay, I will not.” Her voice now came from behind. Edmund turned on his heel, finding no one.

  “Enough of these games, Cara. Sometimes God’s ways are not our own. Sometimes we must obey, even though we may not fully understand.”

  “No, Edmund. You don’t know everything, and I don’t believe in your English God.”

  “Cara, if necessary, I will take you back by force,” he warned, moving through the brambles toward the tower doorway.

  “Do you smell the roses?” Her voice issued over his left shoulder, and he turned, careful not to set the brush afire with his torch.

  “Come, Cara, it’s getting cold and late.”

  “I smelled them that night. The night you pledged to come back for me.”

  Edmund frowned, remembering his broken promise. The light of his torch passed over the statutes of the two lovers, frozen forever in each other’s embrace. Was this a spirit of the place, taunting him? He squinted, peering as best he could through the shadows.

  “There is good reason for my choice, Edmund. You must trust me.” Her voice seemed to float on the breeze.

  “Then come out, tell me, and let us return home and confront him together.” Edmund grew frustrated.

  “That is not my home, Edmund.”

  He shoved a weary hand through his hair, wondering what to tell Gregory. “How do I know this is not a spirit speaking? If it is you, Cara, why not show yourself to me?”

  “Milord Collier?” a deep voice shouted from the other side of the gnarled hedge.

  “Come tomorrow, Edmund. I give my oath I will tell you everything,” she called in a whisper, her voice melding with the breeze. “Promise me.”

  “Milord, are you in there?” The man spoke with greater urgency.

  “Very well,” Edmund replied in a low voice, looking once more around him. “Yes, I am here. Nothing but a mass of brambles and twigs. She’s not here,” Edmund called to the guard. He tossed Cara’s shoe into the dry, leaf-filled fountain.

  Edmund yanked open the gate and met the bewildered look of the soldier on the other side.

  “I thought I heard voices in there.” The man peered over Edmund’s shoulder.

  “I quite often pray aloud when I’m alone.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

  The man lowered his eyes, dutifully humbled. “Of course. My apologies, milord.”

  Edmund shut the gate behind him and felt a jolt against his back. Curious, he leaned down, his torchlight picking up the secretive smile of the mask, laying on the ground looking up at him. He picked it up and hung it again on the peg, remembering when he had done so the first time. This time, he would not break his promise to return.

  Cara woke to the sound of thunder rolling overhead. It took her a moment to remember where she was. She’d chosen this place for its isolation, thinking that when they discovered her absence, they would first go to her father’s household. She pushed herself up from the bed of straw she’d gathered the night before, and peered out the open window. The view offered the lush green of the valley beginning to blossom with spring, and gray ominous clouds rolling in, darkening the skies. What little sleep she’d had was restless, fraught with the choices she must make, and with wondering whether Edmund would indeed return. His determination to marry her off to Gregory plagued her, her heart refusing to believe that he didn’t still care for her. If she listened, and married Gregory, it would mean the certain destruction of her family and her village. If she refused, the repercussions could be worse. The dark, stormy clouds wiping out the clear blue sky matched her mood as she turned from the window. She appeased the gnawing in her stomach with a few bites of stale biscuits she’d snatched while escaping through the food storage tunnels. They offered little comfort to the riling of her stomach, and Cara cupped her hands, retrieving enough water to cool her parched throat.

  The shrill neigh of a horse caused her to draw away from the window. Fear struck her heart. What if Edmund had told Gregory where to find her? Was he so determined that she’d be better off with his old friend? Cara summo
ned her courage and peeked around the edge of the window, relief flooding her when she saw Edmund striding across the brown lawn. She turned and heard his purposeful steps on the tower stairs. He walked into the room, and she could not contain her joy that he’d kept his promise. She ran to him, curling her arms around his neck. But he stood stiffly, not returning her exuberant embrace. Confused and more than embarrassed, she stepped away and looked at him. His face was drawn, his cloak and clothing soaked. It appeared as though he’d had little sleep.

  “I am here as you requested. I have stated that I was coming to speak to your family, to check if they have seen you. Gregory shows great concern, Cara. I beg you tell me what it is that causes you to run away from a marriage that stands to give you and your family the best of all possible futures.”

  Dumbstruck, Cara searched his eyes and stepped away from him. Had she been fooling herself that he still cared?

  “I brought you some water,” he said, rummaging through his bag.

  Cara could only watch how matter-of-fact he was acting. How detached he was compared to yesterday.

  “I wasn’t sure if you had eaten.” He untied his cloak, draping it over a broken chair. “I brought an apple and some cheese.”

  “I do not need your charity.” She returned to the window, letting the soft rain brush against her heated face.

  “Cara, I do not know what more you want from me.”

  She smiled, though her heart was bitter. Indeed, what she’d thought he wanted was her. She looked down at the tattered, dry garden below, recalling the story. “Do you remember the tale of Beltane?”

  “Scarcely, but enough, I think,” he responded.