His Runaway Maiden

by June Francis

  ‘I never thought I would hear anyone say such words to me,’ said Alex. ‘My grandmother only thought of what he might give me.’

  ‘Did he give you the name Alexander?’

  ‘I believe it is one of his baptismal names.’

  ‘There you are, then,’ said Rosamund cheerfully. ‘He must have accepted that you had a right to it.’

  ‘I believe he is a doughty fighter, as was his father before him. I suppose it’s possible he was named after the great Alexander of Macedon who conquered a large part of the known world in his day.’ He glanced at Rosamund as he picked up his mask. ‘He travelled as far as India in Asia. Harry thought that a great adventure.’

  Rosamund looked at her husband in dismay. ‘You do not think that he has gone to India?’

  Alex looked taken aback. ‘The thought had not occurred to me.’

  ‘Then I pray that it did not occur to him either.’

  ‘Aye. Now we must go. I am not accustomed to such long discussions before breakfast.’ He softened the words with a smile.

  ‘Neither am I,’ she said.

  They entered her godmother’s parlour where Lady Elizabeth confessed to feeling a little groggy that morning. She handed Alex a missive.

  ‘Are you certain you are well enough to dance, Godmother?’ asked Rosamund, watching her husband move over to the window to read his message out of the corner of her eye. ‘After all, you already know the steps and I suspect it is only for my sake that this rehearsal is necessary.’

  ‘You could well be right, my dear,’ said Elizabeth, adjusting her wig. ‘Do you know there is to be the first of many tournaments this morning? No doubt our young lords and ladies will wish to watch the jousts.’

  ‘I find no amusement in watching men seeking to maim or to kill each other for a purse or to prove their manhood,’ said Rosamund, spreading honey on bread.

  ‘I am glad we agree on that,’ said Lady Elizabeth.

  She turned to Alex. ‘So, what news do you have for me?’

  He placed the missive in a pocket and told Lady Elizabeth about Ingrid and Edward and Lord Bude. The old woman listened carefully, wheezing an exclamation every now and again. When he had finished she was silent for what seemed a long time. Eventually, she said, ‘I will speak to my kinsman later today about what you have told me. I will leave it to him to decide whether the King should be informed. A watch will be kept on those we suspect. I doubt this Ingrid will have been able to win Margaret’s confidence so swiftly that she would attempt to persuade the King to have you cast into a dungeon.’

  Soon after that decision was made they left the apartment, wearing their masks. Her ladyship had said that it would spoil the air of mystery and the dance if anyone were to recognise them beforehand. Despite her conviction, several people wished Lady Elizabeth a good morn. She ignored them. Obviously it took much to disguise such a well-known personage. But Rosamund was of the opinion that the mask made her almost invisible.

  They reached the rehearsal chamber and, although the musicians had arrived and a few people had drifted in dressed in costume, it was as Lady Elizabeth had foretold and several members of the troupe were absent. Lord Bude was one of them.

  Lady Elizabeth said, ‘I wonder what has delayed him this time! Rosamund, you will dance with the Baron and I will save my strength.’

  Rosamund was glad that Lord Bude had failed to make an appearance because she had not amassed that much confidence that she felt at ease attempting to glean information out of a young English lord. Still, she experienced pleasure dancing with Alex.

  It was as the group was dispersing, having arranged where to meet for their part in the pageant later, that Lord Bude arrived with Edward. Rosamund was taken unawares. She was a girl again, wanting somewhere to hide from her stepbrother.

  Alex reached out a hand and caught hold of Rosamund and drew her to his side. She felt strength flow into her and switched her gaze from her stepbrother’s arrogant features to Lord Bude’s face.

  ‘Damn you for keeping me up so late, Fustian,’ he said loudly. ‘I have missed the dress rehearsal.’

  Rosamund wondered if his annoyance was a pretence. She noted that he was not in costume and his ordinary clothes were rumpled as if he had slept in them.

  ‘Why have you brought this man here, Lord Bude?’ demanded Lady Elizabeth. ‘These rehearsals are private.’

  ‘I am also interested in your answer,’ drawled Alex.

  His lordship flushed. ‘I beg pardon, Lady Elizabeth, but we played dice well into the night and Fustian would insist on accompanying me here.’

  ‘That is because you were a little worse for drink, your lordship.’ Edward’s smiling dark eyes embraced the company, lingering on Rosamund. ‘My dear Rosie, how lovely to see you. How pale you look. I have been concerned for you, my dear. I heard that you have married this—this foreigner,’ he said disdainfully. ‘Your father would not have approved. I really should have taken you in hand after he died.’

  Rosamund felt the words of protest stick in her throat and then Alex squeezed her hand. ‘Tell me, Edward, was it my stepmother who taught you which plants to use if you wished to be rid of someone, such as my father?’

  Her stepbrother’s smile vanished and he looked furious. ‘How dare you besmirch my mother’s good character! Here is another sign of your madness. You really are not safe to be let out alone. You should not have run off in that foolish way to marry a man who is a liar, a pirate and a spy.’

  ‘Really, Master Fustian, you are a fool, as I told my goddaughter and her husband two nights ago, to insult my goddaughter and the Baron in such a way,’ said Lady Elizabeth.

  ‘Aye,’ said Alex icily. ‘You will pay for your insults and lack of gallantry towards my wife.’

  ‘You had no right to marry her without my permission,’ said Edward hotly.

  ‘I did not need your permission,’ said Rosamund, her voice quivering. ‘If I needed anyone’s, then it would be that of my brother, Harry, whose inheritance you and your mother stole.’

  Edward stiffened. ‘You really are crazed. Your brother Harry is dead.’

  ‘You know very well that is untrue. As a boy Harry was abducted and smuggled aboard a ship.’

  ‘Where is your proof?’ he snapped.

  ‘Six months ago my father caught sight of him in London and thought he recognised him. He spoke of this to my husband and what happens next? Alex is attacked and left for dead and my brother vanishes. I have no doubt you were responsible for these deeds.’

  ‘Is that what your husband told you and you believed him?’ said Edward pityingly. ‘You should have listened to Sister Birgetta. She would have told you the truth—that your husband was jealous of any man who looked at his lover, Ingrid Wrangel. I know the mariner whom you refer to and I’ll admit that he bears a certain likeness to your brother, Harry, but he is not Harry. Both he and Ingrid disappeared around the same time.’

  Rosamund paled. ‘I don’t believe you. My husband has been searching for Harry and that is why he wished to see my father at Appleby Manor, not knowing that he was already dead.’

  Edward shook his head. ‘The Baron deceived you. He looks for this other man so that he can kill him, just like he killed his lover.’

  The next moment Alex had Edward by the throat and was lifting him off the ground. ‘It is you that is a deceiver and are crazed. Ingrid and Sister Birgetta are one and the same. Admit it!’

  ‘You will die for this,’ croaked Edward.

  ‘I don’t think you are in a position to issue threats,’ said Rosamund jubilantly. ‘We know things about you and—’ She stopped abruptly.

  Lady Elizabeth tapped Alex’s arm and gave him a warning look. ‘Release him.’

  Alex opened his hand and Edward dropped to the floor. ‘Proof! Where is your proof?’ he gasped, rubbing his throat. ‘Unless you produce Harry, you have none. You will regret this, Baron!’ He stumbled from the chamber.

  His parting words were greete
d by silence. Alex and Rosamund realised they were the focus of the attention of the dancers who had lingered in the doorway.

  ‘Are you really a spy, Baron?’ asked one of the ladies.

  Alex’s mouth curled up at the corners below the mask. ‘I am a wealthy man in my own country, so why should I risk my life as a spy?’ He sounded amused. ‘Besides, Lady Elizabeth will vouch for my good character.’ He paused. ‘I add only that my wife’s stepbrother and stepmother have been stealing what was rightfully hers and that of her brother after their father died. Is it any wonder Master Fustian resents her having a husband who is going to delve into these matters?’

  There were murmurs of agreement and then Lady Elizabeth clapped her hands. ‘Come, my lords and ladies. We must go our separate ways. I have messages to send before we meet again.’

  The company dispersed and Rosamund noticed that Lord Bude was amongst them. She turned a strained face towards her husband. ‘What a terrible scene! Edward was determined to try to convince those here that we were in the wrong.’

  Alex said grimly, ‘I should not have lost my temper. He was right about us having no proof.’

  ‘It is too late for regrets now,’ said Lady Elizabeth.

  Alex removed his mask and his expression was stern. ‘Aye. We’ll need to be even more on our guard than before. Unfortunately, I must leave you both for a while. I will return in time for the performance. If I am late, I will meet you in the antechamber outside the hall.’ He reached for his cloak. ‘You should be safe enough here in the palace. Just make certain you lock the door of the apartment. There is someone I must see.’

  ‘Who is this person?’ asked Rosamund.

  ‘Your friend, Master Wood. I have need of him here.’ He hurried away.

  ‘Come, my dear,’ said her godmother. ‘We will return to the apartment and change out of our costumes and have some food and wine. There is still much I have to do—but what a scene, as you said. I only pray that your stepbrother did not guess what you were going to say and does not warn his fellow conspirators and they escape.’

  Rosamund said guiltily, ‘I hope so, too. I should have been more discreet.’

  ‘It is difficult to show discretion in the heat of the moment, what with him accusing the Baron not only of dishonesty, but murder.’

  ‘I did not believe it for a moment,’ said Rosamund stoutly.

  ‘I should think not,’ said Lady Elizabeth. ‘But it would be helpful if Harry returned in the next few days.’

  Rosamund could not agree more. She desperately needed to see her brother—he was the only one who could prove that Edward’s story was a complete fabrication.

  They dined simply at midday on bread and smoked fish and a glass of wine and still Alex had not returned. Lady Elizabeth had written several messages and gave them to Rosamund to deliver. She wasted no time in doing so, but was delayed on several occasions by the recipients not being in their chambers and having to go in search of them. Several times she was stopped and asked by people mulling around in different parts of the palace and gardens about the altercation between her husband and stepbrother. She marvelled at how swiftly the news had spread and was expecting when she returned to the apartment to discover that the King wished to speak to them.

  But when she unlocked the door of the apartment it was to find her godmother sitting all alone, having already changed into her costume. She appeared to be dozing in a chair. Rosamund asked if she was feeling well. She mumbled a reply, but seemed a little groggy. ‘Are you certain you can perform the dance, Godmother?’ she asked.

  Again the reply was indistinct, but Lady Elizabeth managed to heave herself to her feet. Rosamund turned to enter hers and Alex’s bedchamber to put on her own costume. She heard a smothered giggle, then felt a blow to the back of the head and crumpled to the floor.

  Alex arrived at the antechamber, out of breath with running from the stables to reach there in time. He could hear the musicians playing the introductory music and was aware of an uneasy murmur from the masked dancers. He looked about him for Rosamund and Lady Elizabeth; realising they were not there, he was filled with a sense of foreboding. Their late arrival would have been unusual if this had been just a rehearsal, but to perform before the royal family, their honoured guests and the whole court, meant something must have gone wrong. ‘I’ll go and see what has delayed them,’ he said.

  He was about to leave the antechamber when two black-and-silver clad figures entered the room. He noticed that Lady Elizabeth’s wig was askew, but felt a rush of relief at their appearance. She signalled to the other dancers to go on ahead and beckoned Alex over to her. He smiled at the woman by her side. She fluttered her fingers at him as she passed him by. Only then did he realise that she was too tall for his wife; besides, Rosamund had never made such a gesture to him.

  He sprang forward and dragged the veil from her head to reveal blonde hair. Ingrid! He should never have left Rosamund and felt heartsick, wondering what Fustian had done to her.

  Ingrid wrenched herself out of his grasp and then he heard a woman call, ‘Beware! Behind you, Baron!’

  Alex turned and would have received the full force of the knife in his chest if Lady Elizabeth’s maid had not rushed forward and gripped his assailant’s arm with both hands and rested her whole weight on it.

  The other dancers had stopped in their tracks at the sound of Hannah’s voice and were now witnesses to the altercation happening before them as Alex grappled with the figure who at first glance had appeared to be Lady Elizabeth. The red wig had slipped and Alex was curious to know the identity of his attacker. Brown eyes widened in alarm behind the mask and then suddenly a strangled gasp issued from the painted lips and the eyes widened in shock.

  Alex felt his body go slack in his grasp and blood welled between his fingers as he lowered him to the floor. Only then did he see the knife sticking out of his attacker’s back. He glanced over at Ingrid, who had backed away towards the door. Had she killed him? If so, for what reason? Alex had been convinced she would like to see him dead. He bent over the man on the floor and removed the mask.

  To his amazement the dead man was not Edward Fustian, but a complete stranger. Alex glanced around him. ‘Does anyone recognise this man?’

  ‘He’s Master William Fustian,’ said Hannah. ‘Joshua and I came just in time to prevent his brother from carrying off the Baroness. I left the two men fighting. She told me I must go like the wind and warn you.’

  ‘Thank you, Hannah,’ said Alex, presuming that his wife was unharmed if she was able to give orders. But he must return to Lady Elizabeth’s apartment to make certain and help Joshua in his struggle with Edward. But first—

  He gazed about him for Ingrid, but she was no longer there and he realised she must have slipped out of the antechamber whilst he was distracted. But before he could make a move a courtier appeared. ‘The King wants to know what is the delay,’ he said.

  ‘Master Edward Fustian’s brother tried to kill the Baron,’ said Lord Bude, ‘but he in turn was killed in the struggle. I saw what happened with my own eyes.’ He pointed a finger. ‘See! He dressed up as Lady Elizabeth.’

  The troupe gazed down at the sprawling figure on the floor and one of the ladies shuddered and another asked, ‘Where is the real Lady Elizabeth?’

  Hannah said, ‘Baron, we must go! I had no time to see what had happened to my lady and she might be hurt.’

  ‘What are we going to do about the dance?’ asked one of the lords.

  ‘You will have to perform without us,’ said Alex.

  ‘But that means there will only be six of us,’ said a lady in dismay.

  ‘Just do your best,’ he said impatiently. ‘I am sure the King and Queen will understand once they know what has happened. You must tell the Earl of Derby what took place and that I will wait upon him after I have discovered what has happening to Lady Elizabeth.’ He hurried from the antechamber, followed by Hannah.

  As the door of the apartment came
into sight Alex could see Joshua holding a struggling Ingrid captive. ‘Where’s Edward Fustian?’ demanded Alex.

  ‘I am sorry, Baron, but he escaped,’ said Joshua, ‘but Mistress Rosamund is safe, if a little dizzy from a blow on the head.’

  Alex swore beneath his breath. ‘Bring her into the apartment.’ He entered the chamber and at first could see no sign of his wife and then he noticed her over by an armoire. ‘What are you doing?’ he said more sharply than he meant and hurried over to her. ‘You should be resting.’

  ‘I believe Godmother is in here,’ replied Rosamund, steadying herself by resting a hand on the side of the armoire.

  Alex gazed into her face and was relieved to see that she appeared to be little the worse for her ordeal. Then, hearing a low moan coming from the armoire, he unlocked the door and flung it open.

  ‘Praise St Jude that you have come,’ wheezed a bald Lady Elizabeth, stretching out a trembling hand. ‘I thought I was going to die in here.’

  Alex helped her out. She was unsteady on her feet and he half-carried the old lady over to a chair and ordered Hannah to find a blanket to wrap around her shivering form. She hurried to do his bidding and he returned to Rosamund and swung her up into his arms and carried her over to the settle. Only when he had seen to her comfort did he deign to give Ingrid some attention.

  ‘Lock her in the armoire, Joshua,’ he said tersely, ‘until I have time to question her.’

  Ingrid spewed forth a string of words in her own tongue, which caused him to respond with a short sharp sentence that silenced her. Then he faced Lady Elizabeth and Rosamund. ‘What happened to William?’ asked Rosamund before he could speak.

  ‘He’s dead.’

  Rosamund stared at him in disbelief. ‘Did you kill him?’

  ‘No,’ replied Alex, kneeling in front of her and chafing her hand. ‘Are you sure you are all right?’

  ‘Aye. I don’t think I was unconscious for long.’ Her fingers clung to his and she added, ‘If you did not kill William, then who did?’