by Gail Link
"Her home?" asked Audrey, confused.
"Aye," Hugh replied. "She is my wedded wife."
"Wife?" the twins echoed in unison.
"She is my lawful countess, and your new mother."
Clare looked up at her father. "And the reason for Sybelle's abduction," she stated flatly.
"Let us go inside, and I will endeavor to explain things to you both."
"Aye, Father, Iwe, would appreciate that."
Hugh turned his head towards Sir John. "You I will see immediately. Wait for me in the library."
Sir John nodded his head as Hugh escorted the girls into the house.
Duvessa felt awkward, yet she hid these feelings from the two girls and her husband, stepping aside as the trio entered. "I will see to something to break your hunger from the long journey," Duvessa said, feeling embarrassed at the hostile look in Clare's blue eyes.
Audrey, ever the diplomat, felt Duvessa's consternation and slipped her arm about Duvessa's waist, saying softly, "Thank you, bellemиre. We would truly be grateful, as the pace has been fast this day so that we could reach our father's estate before nightfall. I am quite hungry, as is Clare. Would you mind if I took some time to refresh myself?"
Smiling, Duvessa hugged her step-daughter and said, "No. this is your home. Please, do not feel any difficulty because of me."
Audrey kissed her cheek. "Come, Clare. Father must speak to Sir John. Let us bathe and change before we eat."
Clare, who had stood quietly observing the scene, said nothing. She swept up the stairs with Audrey in tow.
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In the library, Hugh poured himself a brandy and drank it in one swallow. He thanked the sweet Lord that his twins were safe. Now he would have to explain to them fully the true cause of their sister's abduction by the Wolf. Damn, where was Edward's response?
"My lord?" Sir John said.
"Come in," Hugh answered, pouring another brandy and one for Sir John. "Have you any further news of my Sybelle?"
Sir John bowed his head briefly, draining the fine brandy in a quick gulp. "No, my lord. But 'tis certain she is in the possession of Rolf O'Dalaigh. And my suspicions are that a farmer on the estate helped in the cause in some way."
"One of the tenants?" Hugh asked, his voice sharp with disbelief.
"Aye. Something about the man didn't ring true, so I am having him watched,"
"What made you suspicious?"
"His actions andan instinct, my lord. As a soldier, you know when to follow that. Hasn't it saved both our lives?"
"Aye," Hugh nodded.
"Well, I asked him several questions, and he managed to trip himself up on one particular point."
"Which was?"
"He stated that he could see the riders who abducted the Lady Sybelle because the moon was full," Sir John paused. "There was no moon that night. He couldn't have seen them close enough to obtain the description he gave me."
"Why did you not force the truth out of him?" Hugh demanded, fists clenching.
"I thought it more politic to play the waiting game, my lord. I already knew who had your daughter. I needed to see if this man would make any further contact with the Wolf of Killroone before springing my trap. Trust me, he is being closely observed."
"Was he aware of your suspicions?"
"No, my lord. He took his reward and left."
"Reward?" Hugh bellowed in an angry tone.
"Aye. For his information."
Hugh banged his fist down on the table, shaking the bottle of brandy. "This scum was paid for his information?"
"He was, my lord. It was necessary to lull him into thinking that we believed his story."
"Should it be proved that he aided the raiders in any way in the abduction of my daughter, I want a special punishment for him." Hugh's words were merciless.
"That should not be too difficult to arrange, my lord Derran, but I think I could wager successfully that your daughter's people would be glad to relieve you of the burden. The Lady Sybelle is much loved at Castle Derran. And a traitor is not well-loved by the Irish. He will be dealt with properly, that I can assure you."
"Good."
"Has the king's Grace answered your summons for aid?"
"No. Edward has seen fit to make a delay in his response to me. If I do not hear from him soon, I shall make for Ireland with or without his consent."
Sir John observed the pain evident in Hugh's dark blue eyes. He'd been his lord's man for more years than he cared to recall; never had he seen the abject despair in the earl's face as he did now, not even on the field of battle when odds were heavy against them. It was as if Hugh couldn't take the time or the care to mask the pain he was feeling, the utter helplessness. For a man of action to be so constrained by political vagueness must be hellish, and it would also be dangerous. "Would that be wise?" he asked.
"At this point, I don't care," Hugh replied. "My daughter's life is at stake."
"Then we must hope that his Grace will respond soon."
"Have you been able to secure any information about Killroone's keep?"
"Aye, my lord. 'Tis a small piece of intelligence, yet better than nothing." He pulled from his worn brown doublet a small piece of lambskin, on which was sketched a crude map of the area surrounding Rolf's castle. "See here, my lord," Sir John said, pointing with his finger to a spot on the map. "This is a well-fortified place. Killroone has his castle set upon the rocks, giving him the vantage point; he can see all who come. His back is to the ocean; a way to quit his keep should he need to."
"What about coming from water rather than land?"
Sir John shook his head. "'Twill do no good. His tenants are fiercely loyal to the man. Besides, from his height, he could see a large party coming from any direction. 'Tis an impregnable fortress, my lord. His is the virtual control of the area."
"Damn him," Hugh cried, the muscles of his face tightening further. His words were laced with cold fury. "He will curse the day he crossed me."
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"Our father is married!" Audrey exclaimed when she and Clare reached the privacy of their rooms.
"Aye," Clare said, swiftly removing her dirty garments until she stood clad only in a fine linen shift. "What do you make of this?"
"What can I make of it?" Audrey responded, adding her clothes to the growing pile. She tested the warm water in the wooden tub before stepping in. "Since when would our father keep his marriage a secret, especially from his daughters and heirs?" Clare questioned.
"He must have had his reasons."
"'Twould appear so, Audrey, but still I must ask you why? 'Tis not like him." Clare undid her two plaits of thick hair and combed out the tangles caused by the wind and rain. "If he had told anyone, it would have been Belle, and I'll wager she didn't know." She stood, pulling the linen undergarment over her head, using it to wipe away the traces of mud from her face. "It was our right to see Father wed," she pronounced importantly. "No, something must have been wrong."
Audrey ducked her head and rinsed the sweetsmelling soap from her hair. She watched as Clare sat down in a tub identical to hers. "Do you think Duvessa loves our father?"
Clare cocked her soapy head to one side, working her fingers through the suds. "That I do not know, Audrey." She rinsed her hair, pouring water from a small bucket over her tresses. "But I do know that she is involved heavily in what happened to our sister." Clare stood, rinsing herself with another bucket of water, this one warm. Stepping from the tub, she joined Audrey before the fireplace, where a blaze warmed their skin. She briskly rubbed the soft linen over her body.
"I want to know why," Clare said, "and I shan't rest till my questions are answered."
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Duvessa sat at the small writing table in her bedchamber. In her hand was the letter she had written to her cousin explaining the actions she had taken and why. Included was a dema
nd that he release the Lady Sybelle and permit her to return to her father in England. Duvessa re-read the missive, hoping that her words would change her cousin's heart. She needed to make Rolf understand, to make him aware of the deep feeling she harbored for her English husband. Dipping the quill into the inkpot, she added an extra request. This was difficult for her to word, for she knew that both his honor and the lady's were involved. She pleaded with Rolf to make amends if for any reason the woman he held was unable to secure a proper marriage. Harmony must be restored, as they were all bound by the marriage alliance now. Clan bonds were extended to include her new family; she must remind her cousin that Lady Sybelle now shared a kinship to Roll. Perhaps that tactic would sway his feelings. It was certainly worth a try.
A soft knock sounded on her door. Duvessa immediately slipped the sheets of paper beneath a book of courtly love poetry that she had found amongst her husband's possessions. "Enter," she called out.
A small woman just a few years older than the Lady Duvessa, entered the room. She dipped a slight bend of her knee, addressing her mistress. "You wished to see me, countess?"
"Aye," Duvessa said, her voice holding a conspiratorial tone, "I want you to do something for me."
"You have only to command, madame."
"Good." Duvessa turned her head away and drew out the papers. She folded them carefully and placed her seal on them. "You are to deliver these papers to my cousin, the Earl of Killroone."
The woman looked puzzled. ''Aye, but how shall I deliver them?"
"Oh, pray forgive me," Duvessa said, handing the woman the papers. "These are to be kept secret, and to be given to him alone. No other must have access. Do you understand?" She waited for the nod of comprehension before continuing. "You will be returning to Ireland as soon as my lord husband can arrange a passage for you."
"Leave you, my lady?"
"Aye. 'Tis for the peace of my family that I ask this of you."
"'Tis my duty and honor to obey you, yet. . . . "
"'Tis no easy task that I give you, Yseult, that I know," Duvessa said. "And it pains me greatly to keep this a secret from my lord husband, but it must be so. You are the instrument of my plan to promote peace amongst the warring parties of my family. I cannot return to Ireland to see my cousin, the earl, personally. This letter will speak for me.
"My husband shall be told that you long to return to Ireland. That you miss your family too much to stay here."
Yseult nodded at Duvessa's words. In truth she was in no hurry to return to her native country, for she found her position in Duvessa's household pleasant, and she genuinely liked her mistress. She did miss her family, but not to the extent that she would ever forsake the Lady Duvessa. As one of five daughters, and the youngest at that, she knew that her life would have been far less comfortable had she not joined the Lady Duvessa's household when she did. Yseult was the gently reared child of a knight of Duvessa's late father. For her there would be no advantageous marriage, no dowry portion to tempt a man to offer for her. A lady's companion was her lot in life, and truth be known, she relished it.
"You are to go to my estate, tell Father Geoffrey to arrange an escort for you to my cousin Killroone. There is money for the journey, for you shall have to ride fast horses instead of going by carriage. You know where I keep the money for the extra household expenditures; use that. It should suffice." Duvessa hugged the woman. "Thank you, Yseult. When this business is over, I shall once again ask you to attend me." Duvessa gripped her hand in friendship. "I shall have need of my own around me."
"It shall be as you wish, countess," Yseult said quietly.
"Aye. Now go and pack whatever you brought with you for your return journey."
The woman turned to leave the room, the letter secure in her hand.
"Wait," Duvessa called. "You are to send me word as soon as you can. I must know what my cousin's reaction is to my request. Promise me?"
The woman sketched a curtsey. "Aye, my lady. It shall all be done as you requested."
"Go mbeannai Dia dhuit," Duvessa said.
Yseult stopped at the entrance and spoke softly, not sure whether she should broach the subject. She found the arrangement between the lady and her lord to be wildly romantic, the essence of boldness and overwhelming love. Hadn't she herself felt the attraction of the boyishly handsome earl? His eyes saw no one save her mistress, which Yseult found charming. "My lady, do you regret what you did?"
Duvessa looked her square in the eyes. "I regret only the consequences of my actions for my stepdaughter. I could never regret following my heart. For to deny that would mean forsaking the love I feel for Hugh, and that is something that I shall never do while I have breath in my body."
Chapter 16
Clare and Audrey sat at the table awaiting their father and his wife. They exchanged nervous glances, not knowing what to expect of the meeting to come. They had bathed, rested, dressed, and talked about what was to happen.
A village girl, placed into temporary service, popped her head in the open doorway every few minutes, anxiously looking for the entrance of the earl and his countess as a sign for her to begin serving the meal. She was well aware that had this been a more formal establishment, a page, perhaps several pages, would be doing the tasks that she was assigned. Yet at the earl's insistence, since he was rarely in residence, rules were relaxed and auxiliary help employed.
"What is taking them so long?" Clare questioned, twisting her hands together, pulling at the ring she wore on her little finger. "We've been here fully twenty minutes now."
Audrey smiled serenely. "'Tis been only a little past five minutes, Clare."
Clare threw her a dark look. "Are you sure?" she asked. "It truly seems longer." She pushed back the large chair and stood up, pouring herself another glass of spiced wine. "Perhaps I should send a servant to see what is keeping them?"
"That won't be necessary, daughter," came the rich voice of Hugh Fitzgerald from the entrance-way. On his arm was the Lady Duvessa O'Neill Fitzgerald, Countess of Derran.
For this special occasion, Duvessa had decided that a reminder of who she was, and of her own family heritage, was needed. Instead of the plain clothes she had worn earlier, tonight she chose a rich shade of deepest burgundy silk, adorned with miniver. Around her throat, ears, and fingers, were the O'Neill rubies. Against her skin they stood out like drops of blood captured in gold. Her hair was banded by a circlet of gold, and her thick hair fell in luscious waves to well below her knees.
Hugh smiled as he led Duvessa to her seat at the table. His wife was proud, and wore her pride well. To him, no queen of ancient Ireland had the grace and the beauty that she possessed. Hugh thought how aptly she was named, for in the Irish language her name meant "dark beauty." He could feel her tenseness as her small hand tightened around his before she relinquished it.
Hugh instructed the hovering servant to begin. "After we have been served, and are alone, we shall talk of what must be said."
All at the table remained silent as the girl, Drucilla, began to lay platters of food on the polished refectory table. Roasted rabbit was revealed on one plate; another held several capons covered with spices and wine; still another contained several types of fish. A bowl of figs shared space with a large silver bowl of nuts. A chunky block of cheese, surrounded with apples, filled a plate. Two earthenware jugs held beverages, ale in one, the other a Flemish wine.
Hugh indicated to Drucilla to leave them alone; he would summon her when she was needed. She bobbed her head and backed out the door.
All at the table ate in almost virtual silence, save for snatches of polite "another slice of capon; pass the cheese; a fig if you will; perhaps another portion of fish"Soft-spoken, well-mannered generalities that hid the seething tension underneath.
At last, wiping his wide mouth with a lace-edged linen napkin, Hugh pushed aside his plate.
"You demanded an explanation of what has happened." His blue eyes narrowed, a penetrating glance that focu
sed on his daughters, who responded to the power contained therein. His head turned in the direction of his wife. His hand reached for hers, and brought it to his lips. "The Lady Duvessa and I fell in love. Ordinarily, I would have approached her parent or guardian and made arrangements for a marriage contract. However, her guardian, her cousin, the earl of Killroone, had other plans for her. Giving her to an Englishman was not what he would have permitted."
The look on Hugh's face was that of a man who, once resolved, was implacable. "I thought to spare my lady wife any implication in my scheme. An abduction would have absolved her in any way of blame. Never did I think that Rolf O'Dalaigh would have decided to"
"Turn your strategy against you, Father?" Clare mocked.
Hugh's features hardened and his wide mouth formed a grim line. "No, Clare, I did not think that he would take such a risk. Do you think I would have placed any of my children in danger had I thought so?" he asked, his voice raised and filled with anguish. "Do you not think that I feel remorse that my actions have lost me my Sybelle?" He slammed his fist on the table, causing the plates and glasses to rattle.
"Were you so eager to bed this lady that you had no thought for anything else?" Clare accused him angrily.
Hugh stood, his hand raised. Duvessa grabbed for it, murmering, "No, Hugh, please."
"Release me, Duvessa," he said. He faced his daughter, his features grim. "Insolent girl! How dare you judge me? You will apologize to my wife."
Clare faced the Lady Duvessa. "My humble apologies, madame, for I meant no disrespect to you." She flashed her father a defiant look.
"I know that you meant me no harm, Clare. We are all distraught over the taking of your sister. Our tongues are perhaps sharper than we mean in our pain," Duvessa said, her heart aching for the torment they all were feeling. "Part of the blame must lie with me, for I did not think that my cousin Rolf would go to such lengths to exercise his rights as head of our clan." Her glance sought her husband's face. "We had thought to wed so that no hindrance could be placed against our union in the future, and to do that we had to be wed in England with your king as our witness. 'Tis as simple, and as complicated, as that." She paused, taking a sip of her wine to moisten her dry lips.