"Milady, we must rejoin the others," shouted one of the men. He tried to grab her reins and she irritably slapped his hands away.
"Not yet," she insisted. The arrows finally stopped as the Scots decided against splitting up their forces to follow such a small group, but she didn’t feel safe. The sounds of battle had diminished, leaving the forest in eerie silence, but the furious pounding of her heart had yet to slow. They had not recognized her, which meant her group could still be a target.
Should she try to escape? Verena could easily lose herself in the forest. She would be halfway to London before Mary or Owen came after her. It would take only a moment to retrieve the money she stashed near Gundy’s hunting cottage. That small savings should sustain her until she found a safe place to settle.
A painful groan cut into her thoughts. Behind her she felt the soldier shift in the saddle. He had not died as she suspected, but merely fainted from the pain. A bitter grimace twisted Verena’s lips. If she left now, the solders would have to chase after her. It could be hours before the injured man received medical treatment.
Leaving Gundy’s employ meant more than Verena’s freedom. It meant she would never have to lie, steal and murder. The small flutter of life resting in her belly urged Verena to be better.
The men helped to lower him to the ground while she hunted for supplies. They were unprepared for the attack and brought little with them. One of the men happened to have a needle and thread while Verena’s undergarments were turned into bandages. The men fashioned a travois for the soldier while she cleaned the wound with some melted snow and stitched it shut. Luckily after a few grunts of pain, he passed out again.
"I thank you, milady," said the oldest of the group. Though his tone was respectful, there was coldness in his eyes that made her wary. He was big like Owen, with an apathetic manner as if he found little difference between saddling a horse and snapping a neck. In Verena’s line of work, she had learned how to spot a killer. This man was an interesting choice for Verena’s guard. "I am Robert, and this is William and Stuart."
"We may not be out of danger yet."
She ignored his outstretched hand. Her attention was not on the men and instead scanned the forest for movement. Although the battle sounded far away, she couldn’t be sure they escaped their attackers. They could be silently encircling their group while their attention was occupied with the injured Stuart.
How many men had Cairn brought into England? She expected him to return to Scotland and prepare for Gundy’s arrival. She never expected Cairn to bring the fight to the English. This guerrilla attack served to confuse and demoralize Gundy’s men and made Cairn’s next move unpredictable. He could have men hidden all over the woods picking off the English as fled.
She strained her ears for the army’s trumpet signaling it was safe to return. It seemed an eternity before it came, barely audible in the distance. A travois was attached to the back of her horse. Robert insisted she ride in the center of the group as they made their way back. She couldn’t tell if it was for her protection or to make it more difficult for her to run.
The lengthening shadows and eerie stillness reminded her of the Old Lord’s forest. She felt as if the Old Lord was watching from the canopy, ready to unleash his army of spirits on the woman who dared to betray his grandson. She frequently glanced about to make sure they were alone. She saw nothing, but the sensation of being watched wouldn’t abate. The noisy army ahead promised warm food and blankets, but it seemed impossibly far away. Darkness was quickly falling along with the temperature, and the travois forced them to move excruciatingly slow.
Ignoring Robert’s command to stay in the center of the group, she urged her mount to the front, careful not to jostle the injured Stuart any more than necessary.
"Should we stop for the night?"
There was no road through the forest and when darkness fell, it would be impossible to find an easy path for the travois.
"Nay. I feel these trees have eyes. Let us push on. Stuart will have to endure."
With one last censorious glance at her, he increased the pace. She glanced back at Stuart and found he had regained consciousness, but was gritting his teeth in pain, determined not to be more of a burden on their small band.
"We should rejoin the others soon."
Stuart nodded, but he knew they were far from safety.
"Verena," called a familiar voice from the trees. Her horse sidestepped warily as Owen and Jon emerged from a thicket of dead grass beside them. "I am glad you are safe."
Verena ignored Owen’s concern. He didn’t seem particularly interested in her welfare as he ran from the arrows.
"I am unharmed," she replied curtly. Not waiting for his help, she swung herself from the saddle. Her guard cautiously drew their swords at the unfamiliar men. She hastily made introductions before blood was accidentally shed. "Are you returning to camp?"
"Nay," Jon pulled out a chunk of bread and handed it to Verena. Though her stomach growled in protest, she offered it to the injured Stuart first. The blood had begun to seep through his bandages and he was deathly pale. Seeing the soldier’s condition, Jon took out a small bag of medical supplies and helped her change his bandages. "Lord Gundy sent us to track the Scots. We were getting close, but then we lost the trail."
"I would expect no less of the Old Lord’s grandson," broke in Robert. He was still eyeing the newcomers with distrust, particularly Owen. They were like two wolves sensing a new threat to their pack.
"Be careful," warned Jon with his voice in a barely audible whisper. They crouched over Stuart, repairing the stitches that tore as Verena’s horse unwittingly jostled him. "Gundy does not fully trust you after Scotland. He sent these men to watch over you and kill you should you try to run."
"I suspected as much, but how do you know?"
"Mary."
Mary told him this? Why would the assassin try to warn her? Verena wished she knew what motivated the strange woman.
"Where is she?"
"Helping Hadran deal with the nobles. She seems to have a lot of experience with that."
"I remember how Ivone was in Scotland. How bad is she now?" Verena could well imagine the chaos that ensued with so many egotistical nobles vying for command. If Cairn’s intent was to create chaos, it looked like he succeeded admirably.
"Terrible," Jon confirmed. "I am in no hurry to return. The nobles are united in purpose, but they all have different ideas for the roles of their men. Ivone is worse now, if you can believe it. Now that she has attached herself to Gundy, she demands royal treatment and wants to be included in every decision. Before we left, Ivone threw a tantrum because her new chef couldn’t find herring for a pie! It will be a miracle if they don’t murder each other within a fortnight."
"Poor Hadran."
"Thank goodness for him! He suggested we help comb the forest with our superior tracking skills and get as far from the chaos as possible."
"Our superior tracking skills will be in question if we have naught to show for hours of searching." Owen had come up behind the pair and caught the end of their conversation. He roughly boxed Jon’s ears, hastening him to his feet. "Away with you, lad."
She watched them disappear with a feeling of dread. She didn’t want to return to camp. Soon Gundy would remember her and demand another sinister act from her. She shuddered imagining what that would be. Perhaps he would give her to one of his neighbors. The prospect was not appealing.
Chapter 50
The McPhersons disappeared as suddenly as they appeared. Many English soldiers crossed themselves in fear, remembering the sinister Old Lord. Several of the lords, led by Sir Reginald, wanted to push on, but Gundy insisted on a more sensible plan. He assumed by the hit and run nature of the attack that Cairn only had a small force in the woods and sent several groups of men to search for them. They stealthily combed the woods for any sign of Scottish footprints, but after several hours called a halt to the futile search. Cairn and his men simply van
ished.
Setting up camp in a large, defensible circle with himself in the protected center, Gundy decided to rest and reorganize before pushing on. A makeshift hospital was set up in several large tents where Verena’s guard brought the injured Stuart. He passed out again as they neared the camp, but he was still alive. If Gundy didn’t try to move his army for a few more days he may survive.
A semblance of order had returned to the army by the time Verena’s small group arrived. Her large tent had been set up by thoughtful servants complete with fresh water for bathing and food. Since the ever-watchful William and Robert insisted on staying with her, she grudgingly shared some of the meal with them. They were annoying and potentially dangerous, but she knew they were just doing their jobs.
The two guards sat down in the tent’s main room while she went into the back to sponge Stuart’s blood off her and change. The invisible servants had also provided her with a lovely new gown of green ermine-trimmed velvet which was indecently low cut, but came with thick wool undergarments to replace the ones she used as Stuart’s bandages.
Stepping from behind the privacy curtain she felt like a different person. The appreciative looks William and Robert gave her exposed bosom proved the effort had been successful. Her hair had been swept up in an elaborate coif that was also stable enough to withstand heavy riding. She donned a comfortable pair of hose beneath her skirts and carried a small pouch of food and medical supplies in hidden pockets of her dress. Her knives were tucked safely into her sleeves and strapped to her thighs. Covering herself in a thick cloak she felt ready to face the day’s challenges.
While she changed a servant came to tell her that Lord Gundy requested her presence as soon as possible. Still irritated that the guard’s interference had drawn the McPherson arrows and nearly killed her, she didn’t spare the waiting men more than a glance as she left. She was a spy and didn’t want a posse of men following her about, but was forced to endure their company as she made her way to Gundy’s tent.
The men stationed outside must have been given orders for her appearance for they quickly stepped out of the way as she approached as if she were indeed Gundy’s long-lost relation. The English lord was preoccupied studying maps spread across a table, steadfastly ignoring Lady Ivone who sat with uncharacteristic humility in a corner of the room. She could detect a faint bruising on her cheek as if she had been recently struck. Mary, once again dressed in her ‘George’ clothing, stood behind Ivone with a stony expression. One gloved hand tightly gripped the pommel of a sword, but she dared not draw. More of Gundy’s soldiers stood at rigid attention around the large tent. They tried to appear nonchalant, but they were eyeing Mary with distrust.
The tension in the room was palpable. Gundy’s lusty indolence had vanished with their first skirmish with the Scots. Ivone may have allied herself with the powerful lord, but her darkening cheek clearly indicated he wouldn’t tolerate her interference.
For a woman who spent years manipulating her late husband it was surprising that Ivone had so misjudged Gundy. She should have known she couldn’t influence a man like him. Gundy was driven by selfish cruelty. He was using her as surely as Ivone was using him, though she didn’t yet know the details of their alliance. Perhaps her presence would lend credibility to Gundy’s claim when he had to explain his actions to the English king. If they married Gundy would have the excuse he needed to invade Scotland to ‘protect’ the property he would inherit.
What had Gundy offered Ivone in return—love and the chance to once again rule the McPherson clan? Ivone was a fool to think he would take the treasure, return her to power and then quietly withdraw to England. Judging by her stricken face Ivone must have quickly learned the folly of her plans.
Hadran stood near Mary watching Gundy with interest. There was a warning in his eyes that she couldn’t decipher. Something momentous had happened in the tent prior to Verena’s arrival and she felt like she had just walked into a trap. Though her fingers itched, she forced them away from her knives. If Gundy wanted to kill her he would have ordered his men to do so before. Gundy’s deadly intensity as he focused his eyes upon her made her wish she had never come back to camp. He had been waiting for her and some innate voice told her she wouldn’t like the reason why.
"Ah, Verena," said Gundy, glancing up from his papers. He nodded at her pristine appearance with approval. "Is the Scot in love with you?"
She jerked at his words. Did Cairn love her? He had certainly risked his life by coming to England.
"He never said the words, milord."
"I have been reviewing my scouts’ reports and something continues to puzzle me." Gundy moved forward to stand before her He roughly grabbed her chin with his bony fingers, digging into her soft flesh until she flinched in pain. His eyes bored into hers as if forcing the truth from her soul. "We had no news of the McPherson’s movements, no reports that he knew of my army’s existence … until you came to me."
"Milord?"
She had indeed wandered into a trap, one of her own creation. When she gave her report about her actions in Scotland Gundy didn’t seem interested in the details, only her achievements and failures. Had he dangled the prospect of staying with Lord Reginald only to gauge her reaction? She should have known Gundy was secretly studying her and Verena’s evasions had revealed far more than she wanted to say.
"You carry the McPherson’s brat and refused to kill him."
"I didn’t have an opportunity."
"Do you think me a fool?" Gundy leaned forward until his nose was nearly touching hers. Verena could smell his acrid breath fanning her cheeks. He must have at least one rotten tooth; the analytical part of Verena’s mind couldn’t help noticing. "You are in love with him and perhaps he is in love with you too. The McPherson followed you here."
"Nay, he knows the truth." Verena tried to shake her head, but Gundy held her tightly. She was terrified of what he might do if Gundy suspected Cairn truly cared for her. He could ransom her or torture her to hurt Cairn. "He imprisoned me in the dungeon and then attacked your army knowing I was here. He does not care for me."
"From what I have heard your captivity was hardly strenuous and as a servant you should have been traveling in the rear of my caravan where he didn’t strike."
Casting about for help she saw Hadran’s eyes were downcast. Had he told Gundy about her accommodations in Cairn’s dungeon? A pang of sadness washed over her at her mentor’s betrayal. Of course he was loyal to Gundy, but the spies had always taken care of each other. He should have known what such knowledge would mean to her and her unborn child.
"I agree," ventured Ivone. She gracefully rose from her chair and went to stand beside Gundy. Though Mary didn’t move, the slight shift of her weight caused alarm bells to ring in the back of her mind. She wasn’t the only person in danger here. An altercation had taken place between Gundy and Ivone, and Mary was not at all happy with the results. "I have seen them together in Scotland. My son surely fancies himself in love."
Long, manicured fingers were placed upon Gundy’s arm. Ivone squeezed him slightly then raked her fingernails along his biceps.
"If he is willing to risk his life for her …"
"He is not," Verena broke in, trying to sound flippant. She tossed her hair, freeing herself of Gundy’s hold and ventured what Hadran called her ‘endearing pout.’ "I wish I were so skilled. When the McPherson discovered I was lying he banished me to the dark pit he calls a dungeon. It was the maid Rosie who brought me the blankets and food. If Cairn found out she would have been in the dungeon with me."
"She risked his wrath to help you?"
"An extra crust of bread and flea-ridden blanket wouldn’t have made a difference to anyone. It merely soothed her conscience when she went to confession."
"Then why is he here now?" Gundy wanted to know. He shook off Ivone’s arm, softening the rebuke with a rough pat on her rear.
"She is here," she replied, gesturing with her chin toward Ivone. From the corner
of her eye she saw Mary stiffen and knew she said the wrong thing. Implicating Ivone in the Scots’ attack didn’t endear her to the lady’s guard. "An army this large couldn’t stay hidden for long. He is trying to protect his people."
Gundy paced the room in silence for a few moments. Verena still didn’t know what he planned, but knew her life may very well depend upon his next decision.
"Let’s say you are wrong and the Scot does care for you, what would he give to have his women safely returned? I thought one pot of honey would draw out the Scottish bear," Gundy nodded toward the livid Ivone. "But two will work even better."
"What do you mean?" Ivone demanded. "This wasn’t part of our arrangement."
"Ah, but you see, my dear. I always intended to use you this way. What need have I of an independent Scottish wife?"
"I am French."
"That is hardly an improvement. Guards! Take them both to her tent and keep them there. We march at dawn."
William and Stuart instantly stepped forward to obey. They each grabbed her by the arm and quickly whisked her out of the tent while more men came forward to grab Ivone. Verena knew even if she overpowered her guards she was still in the middle of the English camp. She didn’t have a chance of making it out alive, but Ivone didn’t agree. She shouted and thrashed about like the meanest fishwife, calling Gundy names that made even him blush to the tips of his ears.
"Hadran!" she yelled, though her voice was barely audible over Ivone’s shrieks. "What is the meaning of this? What does he intend?"
The old man turned away, refusing to answer. Nor did he move to assist her. When Mary stepped forward and unsheathed her sword, ready to plunge it into the belly of Ivone’s attackers, he quickly stepped behind her. With a forceful tap of his sword’s pommel, Hadran knocked her unconscious.
Chapter 51
Jon and Owen soon returned from searching the woods, but they were forbidden to talk to Verena. Her guards had taken up residence in their tent making the enormous contraption seem impossibly stuffy. They busied themselves preparing for tomorrow’s journey, packing up everything except for the tent and a few blankets.
Seducing the Laird Page 23