Wearing a Mask - a Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Book 14)

by Lisa Shea

  Her father called out, “Soldiers of the Tower! Secure these grounds of all who follow Lord Ingram!”

  A tumult of motion surrounded them as the keep’s soldiers and residents, benefitting from the element of surprise, drove their opposition down to their knees. Any battle was short lived.

  Lord Ingram’s face turned red with fury. “What is this? I am in charge here! Release my men at once!”

  Her father’s face was hard with determination. “You, Sir, drugged me in order to override my wishes. I am the lawful Constable of this keep and shall be until King John determines otherwise.”

  Lord Ingram’s screech rose high. “King John is a sham! He will not last out the month! Once the lords finish their preparation, and the Magna Carta is undone, then we will have a new ruler on the throne! And it will be –”

  A new voice, sharp and dismissive, echoed throughout the courtyard. “And it will not be you, Lord Ingram.”

  All eyes turned – and all present dropped into deep bows and curtseys.

  Lord Ingram turned purple and looked as if he were having trouble breathing. “My Liege. King John. Your Highness. I was only trying to say –”

  Philip stepped up alongside King John. His eyes were steady. “I think you made it quite clear what you were trying to say, Eric. And it seems you were also attempting to marry without the King’s permission.” His gaze shone. “Or did you forget that the King has final say over who a Lord is or is not allowed to marry?”

  Lord Ingram’s mouth opened and closed again like a trout’s.

  King John waved to his personal guard. “Go retrieve that man. Put him in the Tower.”

  Lady Ingram’s shriek cut across the courtyard. “No!”

  Isabel staggered.

  A sharp knife had been pressed to her throat.

  The hand that held it was as steady as steel.

  Lady Ingram’s hiss was a death rattle. “Release my son and all his men. Otherwise this trollop dies.”

  Chapter 34

  Lord Ingram’s voice was a strangled cry. “Mother! What are you doing?”

  “What you should have done years ago,” she snapped. “Taking charge of things. Getting them under control. This keep will be ours.”

  She gave Isabel a tug. “You just come with us. They won’t dare attack us if we have you under our control.”

  Isabel glanced at Philip. He seemed poised on a knife’s edge – ready to drive into motion the moment an opportunity opened.

  Isabel knew she had to create that opportunity.

  Lady Ingram slowly, inexorably, pulled Isabel in the direction of the main gates -

  Isabel smiled and said conversationally to Lady Ingram, “You know, I have to give you a lot of respect. Your son had always seemed a mannerless swine. Eager to push himself where he wasn’t wanted. But you? You had a plan. You had the ingenuity to put it into motion. While Eric just kept throwing himself at a wall, hoping to bludgeon it down, you took action.”

  Isabel patted the wound on her leg. “That bolt you shot into me. A stroke of brilliance, really. It ensured I couldn’t be easily courted by other men and also gave Eric the perfect excuse to visit me daily.”

  Philip’s gaze hardened. “Lady Ingram was responsible for that injury?”

  Lady Ingram lifted her head with pride. “I was always a better shot than that Crusader husband of mine. The time he left us for five years, who was it who ensured the safety of our castle? Me! Who held off three different attacks of bandits? Me! And then he comes home and thinks he can do a better job? He who spent most of the Crusades drunk in some Jerusalem whorehouse?” She scoffed. “Not on your life!”

  Isabel added a tone of appreciation to her voice. “Lucky for you he was killed during that barroom brawl not long after his return.”

  Lady Ingram’s eyes shone with delight. “Yes, lucky, wasn’t it?”

  The gates were drawing nearer, and Isabel cast nets through her thoughts for new distractions. “With all your talents, it must have been incredibly frustrating when I chose to marry Diggory instead. To leave England and move with Diggory to Paris.”

  Lady Ingram’s voice became cutting. “It was insufferable! To have my plans sidetracked by that wastrel gambler. He was almost as intrusive as that harlot singer was.” Her voice rose with satisfaction. “And so I dealt with him in the same way.”

  Isabel staggered to a stop as understanding washed over her. “You ran him down. You ran Diggory down with your carriage. So I would be free of him.”

  Lady Ingram’s eyes shone. “And you are free of him, aren’t you? Free to follow the plan.”

  Lord Ingram had gone as white as a sheet. He stared at his mother as if seeing her for the first time. “Nancy was run down by a carriage. On her way home from choir practice.”

  Lady Ingram took the knife from Isabel’s throat to wave it at the surrounding crowd. “And look what we have gained! Look at this power we have achieved, all by casting aside those who hindered our progress!”

  His eyes roiled with emotion. “You killed her. You killed my sweet, innocent Nancy.”

  Her tone grew sharp. “She was nothing! You had me! All you should ever need is me!”

  Lord Ingram launched forward. With one swift, sure movement he drove his dagger deep into his mother’s heart.

  His voice was low and hollow.

  “Not any more.”

  Isabel’s mouth hung open in utter shock. She staggered back –

  Lord Ingram grabbed her wrist and spun her around, the bloody dagger now pressing against her throat. “And you, Isabel. I’m not done with you yet.”

  Isabel dragged her feet against his pull. Panic caused the words to bubble out of her. “What are you going to do with me? Take me back to your home? It’s abandoned now, remember? All your men are here on their knees. Will you try to flee with me? You can’t imagine that would work. I would escape the first chance I got and run back here. Would you truly let me go? Knowing I could end up in Philip’s arms?”

  Lord Ingram growled. “Never. That wastrel Diggory was one thing. I knew he would never be able to keep you. But Philip? I will never let him have you.”

  “Because you know he is the better man,” Isabel egged him.

  Lord Ingram’s eyes flashed. “Because no other shall have you. You are mine. You have been mine since that day in the woods.”

  Her voice grew sharp. “Since that day your mother shot me.”

  His voice riled with anger. “The conniving, interfering woman! She drove you into my path like a dog drives a deer.”

  “And she killed Nancy!”

  His hand shook with anger. “Nancy was the sweetest, most innocent, most guileless woman you could ever meet, and she was run down in the street like a rabid dog. She was so mangled that her father could barely recognize her body.”

  “But you could undo all of this,” Isabel prodded him. “You could set me free. You could prove you are different than your mother.”

  His eyes glowed with zealous energy. “In many ways I am my mother’s son,” he boasted. “I will use you to get to freedom. And once I am free, I will make sure that no other man can ever have you.”

  The gates were before them now. Philip stood there, alone, his sword in his hand. His gaze held Lord Ingram’s with serious attention.

  His voice was low but firm. “Lord Ingram. You know I cannot let you pass with Isabel. Let her go. I will guarantee you safe passage if you do.”

  Lord Ingram gave his head a sharp shake. “Never. You will never have her.” His knife drew tight across Isabel’s throat, and she felt a rivulet of blood snake down her skin. His voice edged. “She is mine. Mine to do with as I wish.”

  Her fingers slid into the pouch at her side.

  They folded around the bolt.

  Lord Ingram’s voice rang out high. “And I choose –”

  She drove her hands up to the arm holding the knife. Her left arm went between his arm and her body, giving her precious inches of breathing s
pace. An instant later her right hand, holding the bolt, drove the bolt into and through the back of his hand.

  He screamed, his fingers flying wide with the pain, and the knife spun into the air.

  His howl turned into a snarl, and he curled his fingers in, turning his bolt-impaled fist into a barb-centered mace. He drove it toward her head –

  Philip caught Lord Ingram’s hand with both of his own, spun him hard, and yanked him free of Isabel. In a heartbeat the two men were on the ground, pounding each other with the strength of bulls. Lord Ingram had the bolt embedded in his hand as a vicious weapon and soon Philip was bleeding from several long, deep wounds.

  Isabel couldn’t breathe. She wanted to dive in, to help, but she knew she could only be a distraction. If only –

  Lord Ingram lashed out with his spear-fist, catching Philip fully on the cheek. Lord Ingram’s voice screeched in desperate fury. “She’s mine! Mine I say! I deserve her!” His bolt-hand drove again, harder –

  Philip rose up on his knees.

  He hammered down his forearm on top of Lord Ingram’s outstretched hand, howling as the tail of the bolt deeply penetrated his own skin.

  Their limbs were now connected.

  The barb of the bolt still protruded several inches from Eric’s palm.

  Eric’s eyes went wide. He pulled back –

  Philip straddled his waist, holding him in place.

  He slowly, inexorably, pushed Eric’s palm down with his forearm.

  Down toward Eric’s own chest.

  The bolt neared … touched …

  It drove with finality into Eric’s heart..

  Eric gasped … gasped … arched up …

  He fell back.

  His unseeing eyes stared up at the sky.

  Isabel burst forward, wrapping her arms around Philip. “My God, Philip. Is it over? Is it finally over?”

  His free arm held her tight, cradling her against his body. “It is over, my love. You are safe.”

  Chapter 35

  Isabel twined her fingers into Philip’s as they stood beneath the oak tree, watching the activity in the courtyard. Dawn’s golden light spread dancing sunbeams across the grass. Braun and Johann were hefting the chopping block up a ramp into a low wagon. Luigi was leaning against one large wheel, offering less-than-helpful advice on proper lifting techniques.

  Philip’s eyes moved to the right, where her father sat in the shade. Jolenta was sitting cross-legged next to him, holding a pair of ales. Hillie was curled up alongside the pair, his breath coming in slow, even draws.

  Philip’s voice was warm. “I’m glad to see, after a full night’s rest, that your father has completely recovered from Lord Ingram’s drugs.”

  Isabel nodded. “Jolenta has worked in the sick house for many years now. She was even on hand back when I was shot with that bolt. I knew she’d find a way to wake father back up.”

  She looked up to him. “How did you convince King John to come to our aid?”

  He pointed to the rug merchant relaxing in a corner of the keep. His two daughters, young red-head twins, were playfully chasing each other with wooden swords.

  She stared in curiosity – and then awareness lit her. “The father and his twins were on the ship!”

  “Exactly. They’re well known here in London. And now that the full moon has passed, they were free to share what had actually happened that night. Luigi found them in a tavern and asked them to stay put, in case we needed them. The moment we got free we gathered them up and headed to King John. Between our tale and the corroboration of the merchant, the King was … let’s say … displeased. He gathered up every force at his disposal and drove for the Tower.”

  Isabel glanced up at the tower, to where the chapel lay. “Lucky he moved quickly. I could have been eternally married to that demon elsewise.”

  Philip’s gaze darkened, and he shook his head. “Never. If I had thought that was even the remotest possibility, I would have stayed and fought through the mob, odds be damned. But I knew with absolute certainty that we would return before any ceremony was completed. Even if one of you had managed to say ‘I do’ before our arrival, King John would have declared it null and void.”

  Isabel looked up at him in surprise. “How can you be so sure?”

  He stilled.

  He lowered himself to one knee.

  Isabel’s heart hammered against her chest, and she could barely breathe.

  Philip took her hands in his. “Isabel, from the very first moment I saw you facing the pirates, I knew you were a woman of honor and compassion. The way you risked your life to save the innocents on the ship. The way you took on the mission to root out the conspiracy. How, at every turn, your thoughts were not of yourself but of those you could protect.”

  His eyes moved to her father. “Your loyalty to your family is breathtaking. Last night after dinner I spoke with your father at length to ask for your hand. I swore to him that I would treasure all that you are. Your unique spirit. Your breadth of talents.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “I spoke to the King as well. I would not risk His Highness separating us on a whim. He understands now that this joining is in the best interests of England. He will not stand between us.”

  Isabel’s chest constricted at the reminder of the political situation. “But what of the conflict to come? Despite his many failings, Lord Ingram did have a glimmer of a point. King John will soon get official sanction from the Pope to hunt down and destroy every Lord involved with the Magna Carta. Our world will descend into civil war, and it is the innocents who will suffer the consequences.” Her hand dropped to Andetnes at her side. “Even if every person in this keep takes up arms to create a sanctuary, it may not be enough.”

  He looked up at her. “It will not come to that. The King sees the value of having the populace on his side. On building a noble cause behind his name. He will allow this keep to remain a safe haven for all innocents. He has granted us use of all of Lord Ingram’s men, now that they no longer have a Lord. Those numbers will swell our ranks to a solid fighting force.” His eyes held her with strength. “Do not worry. Whatever comes, whatever fighting breaks out in London, the Tower will not fall. And all who need sanctuary here will find it.”

  Joy spread through her. It was all she could have hoped for. Her father would remain as a trusted advisor. The keep would be ably manned by an experienced soldier who had the well-being of the locals at heart. And she, at last, at long last, could have a man by her side who she treasured above all others.

  She gave his hand a squeeze and nodded her head, a smile stretching into the heavens above. “Yes. Yes, dear Philip, I will marry you.”

  He drew to his feet and lifted her in one easy move, drawing his lips to hers, and then they were spinning, spinning, wrapped with joy and laughter and delight. All around them came shouts of approval and long applause.

  At long last her feet regained the earth and she put a hand to his face. “I can’t remember ever being this happy.”

  His eyes glowed. They drew down to her hand – and creased. “Where did you get that ring?”

  She looked down at the gold ring with the dog seal. “Oh! Your friends gave it to me when I was under siege here. I figured it was to give me something to barter should I need to flee.”

  His gaze grew distant, and his hand closed over hers. “What you wear is my family ring, sweetest Isabella. Before I came to visit you in your room, I gave it to Luigi for safe keeping. I wanted to ensure, if something happened to me, that you would have it.”

  Her breath caught as she looked down.

  To think it had been on her hand this entire time …

  She slowly drew it off her thumb and held it out to him. His fingers were warm against her skin as he took up the ring and slid it back into place.

  He stared at it …

  His eyes went to the tree. “Odd, I seem to remember …”

  He dropped to his knees at the base of the tree and drew his d
agger from his hip. He began digging away at the soft dirt.

  Braun, Johann, and Luigi came over with smiles. Luigi teased, “So, you win the heart of the girl and now you’re digging a grave? That’s a little premature, don’t you think?”

  Philip shook his head. “No, it’s just –”

  There was a movement at his side and Hillie poked his head into the group. He gave a sniff at the ground, moved a foot left, and then set to work. His paws dug slowly but steadily for a long minute. Then he stepped back and gave a contented bark.

  Philip’s eyes shone. He reached into the hole and withdrew a small, wooden box.

  He drew to standing and lifted the lid.

  Nestled within was a matching gold ring, smaller, with its own image of a dog.

  He looked up at Isabel. “I remember, now. I had made a thumb ring for you during my summer here. I was planning on giving you yours on your birthday. But then my father decided on a whim that we were to leave, and … I couldn’t take it. It destroyed me. And when I saw how your heart broke, I vowed to put all emotions aside. To never have that level of commitment again.”

  Isabel reached forward to take the ring from the box. She stared at the smaller version of Philip’s family ring.

  She looked up at him in wonder.

  “And now we are together.”

  She slid the ring onto her littlest finger.

  It fit perfectly.

  She turned her own hand until their rings sat side by side.

  Her eyes welled with tears.

  He drew her in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His voice was rough with emotion, and it soothed into her soul.

  “My dearest love. I promise you, nothing will ever tear us apart again.”

  Chapter 36

  Isabel could hardly believe what a difference two weeks had made. The big market week was beginning today and every corner of the courtyard was overflowing with silks from the Orient, glassware from Venice, lace from Brussels, and embroidery from Gascony. There were singers and musicians, fire-breathers and jugglers.

  Philip gave her a fond squeeze. “You were right, my love. With all the news about the upcoming fighting, the people wanted one last chance to celebrate life. To soak in the enjoyments of life before we have to hunker down and weather the storm.”