by Lisa Shea
Was that a bottle of claret sticking out of the top?
She stared at the bags and then at the men.
She rose to her feet and enveloped Johann in a warm hug. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
He chuckled, patting her on the back. “There, there, lass. Have faith. Philip always finds a way to wriggle loose of even the most complex trap.”
She gave a hug to Luigi and to Braun. Then she swept the men in the room with a grateful gaze. “Thank you.”
A wave of nods and short bows rippled through the room.
She gathered up the bags. Luigi poked his head out the door and nodded to a man who sprawled on the stones across the way. The man returned the nod and then went back to his posture of a nap.
Luigi turned to her. “Follow me.”
Isabel had a sense that the other two men followed behind, but she was never able to catch sight of them. She trailed after Luigi over rickety bridges and beneath tumbled archways. Slowly the city returned to life around them.
Luigi pointed. “Ah, there he is, up on that bridge. He has a good view of several key streets from there. Go two blocks right and then head on to the keep. He’ll pick you up and shade you the rest of the way. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
She nodded and gave him a warm hug. “Thank you, for everything. Be careful tonight.”
His teeth gleamed with anticipation. “We always are.”
Then he stepped back into the crowds. A moment later and he was gone.
She snugged up the bags and began plodding forward as if exhausted from a long day of shopping. It was not hard to simulate the emotion – she truly was quite drained. She didn’t know when her new shadow had been acquired, and she had a sense that her three friends had not abandoned their watch of her either. But she gamely moved forward, her feet stumbling with weariness, until she approached the back gates.
Four guards were there now, and two of them belonged to Lord Ingram. One of them went racing off the moment she came into sight. She had no doubt who he was reporting to.
The other stranger was curt as she drew close. “You should not have been out today. It is far too dangerous for you.”
Isabel’s face shone hot. None of her own guards would ever think to talk to her in such a way.
Her father’s guard spoke in a gentler tone. “We were worried about you, Isabel. There is great unrest stirring up within the city. Those barons who signed the Magna Carta are fearing an attack – and it could come at any moment.”
Isabel dropped her eyes and carefully modulated her tone to hold guilty remorse. “I’m so sorry. I really wanted these things for my room. I might not be able to go out beyond the wall for months. Years.”
Her guard gave her a gentle smile. “It’s all right. Just go back up to your room. We’re glad you’re back safely.”
She trudged past him and across the great courtyard.
She looked up – and stumbled to a stop.
At the center of the square, high on a pedestal, rested an executioner’s block.
Chapter 27
Lord Ingram strode up to her, fury in his eyes, and she rounded on him with matching ire. “You said he would be tried tomorrow! Why is there already a block in place?”
“Because the verdict is a foregone conclusion,” he snapped. “You know as well as I do that he is a danger to us all. A threat to your father. We will have our safety assured the very first thing in the morning. It is best for us all.”
She opened her mouth –
He burst out over her. “But you –” He shot out an accusing finger. “You left the keep today!”
She held up the bags. “Of course I did! We are about to lock down for a siege. What if it lasts for years? This was my last chance to prepare what I needed.”
“You should have brought a guard with you,” he growled. “It isn’t safe for you out there.”
“I have lived in London all of my life,” she reminded him. “I am a grown woman and know the nearby shops as well as my own room. I was never in any danger.”
His eyes drew in on her. “Be that as it may. From this moment forward you are not allowed to leave the keep. You are confined within these walls. Do I make myself clear?”
Hot fire welled within her and she swallowed it down with effort.
She had to be quiet – for Philip’s sake.
It took all her strength, but she meekly dropped her eyes. She took a long, deep breath, steadying herself. She made sure her words were low and passive. “Of course, Lord Ingram. You are, of course, quite right. I shall obey you in all things.”
His gaze shone with satisfaction. “Yes, you will. It is good that you are finally accepting this.” His hand fell to the hilt of his sword, and she could have sworn he raised himself two inches taller. At last he looked dismissively at the bags. “Now that we have that resolved, go on and get those into your room. Dinner is about to start, and it would not do to keep the room waiting for your entrance.”
She dropped a small curtsy, keeping her eyes lowered. She did not trust herself to meet his gaze.
He strode off toward the front gate, calling over one of his guards.
She waited until he was out of sight before letting out her breath.
Her eyes moved again to the executioner’s block and cold fear coursed through her.
It was real. Philip’s death was a mere heartbeat away.
If his men did not succeed in their plan, Philip’s head could soon lie on that block.
She looked over to the tower.
Hillie still sat guard at its base, by the entry door. On meeting her eyes he rose to his feet and slowly padded over to her side.
“Good dog,” she murmured, rustling the fur on his head.
Her eyes lifted up.
Her heart stilled.
Philip stood there in the window. His hands rested on the bars, and his gaze was steady.
He had faith in her. In his friends who would never desert him.
A soft smile lit her lips.
She gave him a low nod.
And then she turned, willing herself to believe that this would all somehow work out. That, against all the odds, against the powers of all the fates, he would safety escape from the tower which had rarely been breached.
The trek to her room seemed longer than usual. She barely heard the greetings and comments from those she passed. Once safely within her familiar walls, and with Hillie curled up by her fire, she barred the door. She tumbled the bags onto the bed and began examining the contents.
She chuckled. The bags held all manner of fripperies. There was a beautiful cobalt-blue bottle of perfume from Paris. The bottle of red wine was, indeed, from Bordeaux. A stunning tangerine-orange silk shawl surely was transported all the way from China. And this length of delicate ivory lace had the feel of Bruges about it.
There were pears and cherries, golden apples and lush plums. In the bottom of one bag was tucked a tiny painting of a rustic church on a grassy hill.
She smiled as she withdrew each item, laying them out on the bedcover. She sensed Luigi’s hand in their varied selection. If she had indeed been searched, she could have well proven her excuse. There was no doubt that she could have taken a full day making this collection.
One of the pears was badly bruised and she peered at it in curiosity. With all the attention to detail in the other items, it intrigued her that this one fruit seemed so unfit. She poked at the flesh –
Something hard met her finger.
Her brow drew together. She pressed … pulled …
She drew out a sturdy golden ring. On its face was engraved a seal of a mastiff.
She turned it in the light. Was the ring one of Braun’s? Perhaps Johann’s? All three men wore numerous rings and she had never taken a close look. She smiled. If she did have to flee, a small piece of jewelry would serve her far better than a bulky bag of coins to barter for a horse or shelter. The soldiers were indeed wise in the ways of t
he world.
She slid the golden ring onto her thumb. It fit there just perfectly. She vowed to keep it there until this whole chaotic situation had eased. No matter when she had to run, she would be provided for.
The bell for dinner rang, and she stood and looked down at the dress she’d worn on her outing. It was coated with grime and smeared with mud. She eased off the green dress and placed it to the side for the maids. Then she selected a fresh crimson dress for the evening. Another brushing of her hair, a pat on Hillie’s head, and the two descended to dinner.
The room erupted in a chorus of greeting as she entered the main hall. She had met a selection of those present during her time back, but there were yet many who had not been able to welcome her in person. She went here and there, offering hugs, receiving kisses, before she was finally able to move up to the main table.
Her father was at the center location, as always, and immediately to his right was Lord Ingram. Lord Ingram looked quite comfortable in the position. Isabel had a sense that it would only be a matter of days before the two had somehow switched places. Some pretense would arise for Lord Ingram to temporary take control of the keep.
And somehow it would drag on until it was the new status quo.
Her father smiled and motioned to the seat on his left. “My darling Isabel, it is good to have you home again. Come, take your seat by my side.”
She settled herself into her chair, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Was the escape to happen now? Were Johann and the others to make their move while much of the keep was at dinner?
The servants came through with the ale, and then fresh bread which set her mouth watering. There was dill butter and sharp cheese. With every bite she listened for the sound of an alarm. The shouts that indicated the breach had been made.
Her father gave her hand a fond pat. “Oh, my dear, how you must have suffered while you were away. You are so on edge! Relax. Have another sip of ale. You are home now. You are safe within our walls.”
Lord Ingram leaned across. “Yes, indeed, my most beautiful Isabel. These walls protect you now. We will keep you nestled within them. They are your gilded cage with everything your heart could desire.”
Hillie nuzzled her hand, and she absently patted his head. She ripped the soft inside of her loaf and handed it down to him, where he contentedly ate it.
Lord Ingram nodded to himself. “It is good that you are now prepared for a long siege, Isabel. For we do not know how long this conflict will go on. It could be days. Weeks. Months. But now that my full forces have been relocated within, we will withstand any attack. We will hold strong against any attempt to dislodge us. The only thing missing for the next step is – ah, here she is.”
Isabel glanced up in surprise.
Hillie gave a low growl.
There was an older woman in the entryway dressed all in grey. The details of embroidery on her bodice were stunning. She wore a platinum tiara decorated with rows upon rows of tiny pearls. Her face was seamed with lines and her expression was stern.
Isabel looked between Lord Ingram and the woman with growing understanding.
Her words were rough. “She’s your mother.”
Lord Ingram nodded in determination. “Indeed she is. Her guidance has made me all I am today. And with her present, we can at last proceed.”
Isabel turned to him, her heart failing. “Proceed with what?”
His smile glittered in the torchlight. “Why, with our marriage.”
Chapter 28
Isabel had to remind herself to breath in … out … in … out … as Lord Ingram’s mother walked up the center of the hallway. The matron ran her gaze over the room as if already deciding how to hang new banners or change the table layout. She reached her son and gave him a fond kiss on the cheek before settling down at his side.
Isabel remembered the woman now. The lady had visited a few times during her childhood. Isabel’s father had always seemed out of sorts after these meetings. Isabel glanced over at him, concerned how he might react.
Her heart fell. His gaze was shadowed and his wrinkles seemed to have gained extra creases. His shoulders slumped in weariness.
He drew in a deep breath and turned to her. His eyes sagged with resignation as he murmured, “You don’t have to, you know. Marry him, I mean. His family has been pushing for it for ages, but I never felt he was right for you.” He shook his head. “You have been through enough. You barely have become free of that Diggory and are still in mourning for him. They could not, in all propriety, force you into another commitment so quickly.”
She tenderly patted his hand. “Not to worry, Father. I have no intention of rushing into anything.”
On her father’s other side, Lord Ingram stood and lifted his mug of ale. He confidently called out to the room, “A toast!”
A wave of hands lifted mugs into the air.
Lord Ingram nodded to the men present. “Today begins a new era. An era of security. An era where we determine our own fates. And I have the two women I treasure most in the world at my side. My dearest mother, Lady Ingram, and your own Isabel. Long may they stay safe!”
The words echoed around the hall. “Long may they stay safe!”
Isabel drank down her ale. The noise of the dining hall faded away, and only one thought remained. She prayed that Johann and his group were in motion. That at this very moment Philip was being spirited away, out of the tower and to safety.
Servants spun into life around her. Roasted vegetables were brought. Gravy and goose. Sliced ham. With every new dish she held her breath, waiting for the alarm. Through the apple tart. Through the gooseberry pie.
Nothing.
And then the servants were cleaning up the remnants of trenchers. Lord Ingram was talking in satisfaction with his mother.
Had Johann’s plan failed?
Isabel’s throat closed up.
Would they miss their one chance?
Her father patted her on the arm in concern. “My dear, are you sure you’re quite all right?”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “I’m just tired. It was a long day today, shopping for my remaining supplies. I think I overtaxed myself.”
Lord Ingram leaned over. “I’m sure that you did. That is why you must allow those who are wiser than you to make these decisions for you. Going forward, you will remain safely in the keep. It is better for your health. Both for you and for your future children.”
A cold chill ran down Isabel’s spine, but she held the smile on her face. “Of course, Lord Ingram. You are quite right. I think I will retire now. That way I am fresh for the morning.”
A smile spread across his face. “You wouldn’t want to miss the morning festivities. It will be a sight for a lifetime. A moment which will change everything.”
Fear twisted in Isabel’s stomach. She nodded. “Until then.”
Hillie padded at her side as she slowly mounted the stairs. At every step she hoped for the alarm to be raised. For news of Philip’s escape to spread. But there was only silence. Cold, leadened, sealing her away from the world.
She reached her room and closed the door behind Hillie. She slid in the bar. And then she crossed the room to the window.
The moon was high in the inky sky. Wisps of clouds drifted across it as if attempting to erase it from sight.
Her eyes eased down to the tower’s window.
Faint candlelight glowed from deep within.
Philip was not to be seen.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
Had he escaped? Had he done it?
The glimpse of movement, and she sighed, collapsing into a chair by the window.
She prayed that they would come soon. For every moment brought Philip that much closer to the headsman’s axe.
The moon drifted higher … higher …
The stars wheeled in their orbit …
Isabel jolted awake. When had she fallen asleep? The moon was behind a dense cloud now, and deep shadows spread acr
oss the keep.
There was a hush, as if the entire complex held its breath.
She leaned forward to the window, searching in the darkness. Were they out there? Were they even now, at this very moment –
A alarm bell clanged.
Others joined it, and in moments the courtyard was a stampede of running feet and raised voices. Lord Ingram strode out into its center, his sword in hand. “What is it? Are we under attack?”
A group of guards emerged from the far wall.
Isabel’s blood ran cold.
Johann staggered between one pair, blood dripping from a gash in his forehead. Luigi was half carried. Braun had four men on him, wrangling him along the path.
The one-eyed mercenary strode up with rich satisfaction in his voice. “We got ’em, m’Lord. Right outside the wall, where you figured they’d be.”
Lord Ingram’s eyes turned into black marble. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. They will be the ideal accompaniment for Philip’s last breath.”
Chapter 29
Isabel couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Rather than Philip being rescued, now all of her friends were within the cruel clutches of Lord Ingram.
She couldn’t allow this to happen.
She flung her door open and raced down the steps as quickly as her feet could carry her. She heard Hillie’s padding a long distance behind her but she couldn’t stop to wait. Not now, not when every second might mean life or death.
She burst into the main courtyard and collapsed to a stop before Lord Ingram. Her breath came out in long heaves. “Please, my Lord. I beg you not to kill them. They were only trying to protect their friend, out of loyalty.”
Lord Ingram scoffed. “Loyal to a traitor. That is just as bad! Even more proof that they should have their heads removed alongside this friend they would die to protect.”
She flung herself to her knees. “Please, I beg you. Spare their lives. Spare all of their lives. Enough has been lost already due to King John’s cruelty. Do not add these fine men to that tally.”
Lord Ingram ran his eyes down her. “And what incentive might I have to be so magnanimous?”