Once He Loves

by Sara Bennett

  She was certain of it.

  Briar was still certain next morning, when she set out on foot. Her sickness had eased, and she told herself she was actually beginning to feel her old self again. Strong, sure, and determined. Ivo needed her help—there was something very wrong between him and his brother. Briar knew she was doing the right thing. This wasn’t deceit, not at all.

  She had been up since Terce rang out over York, thinking of Ivo’s words to her last night. They had touched her deep. She wanted so much to help him, to reconcile him with his brother. Aye, Briar longed to heal the anguish she sensed in him. And if that meant meeting Miles behind his back, then so be it.

  The day was fine, though cold. Briar followed the line of wooden ramparts upon their earthen walls, broken only by the heavily guarded bars that gave entry to the city. A vendor was selling parcels of cheese and herbs wrapped in crisp pastry. They smelled good, and suddenly Briar was aware of how hungry she was. Another sign that her sickness was passing, and her babe was thriving. She handed over her coin, and munched as she walked.

  Over by the Minster, where Ivo had kissed her and she had pretended to make him part of her plot, the carpenters and stonemasons were hard at work, restoring the damaged church. Briar walked by. There was no plot anymore, unless it be to solve Anna’s murder so that she and Briar’s father could finally rest in peace. Her concerns were for Ivo now. Ivo, who was clearly in desperate need.

  She did not ask herself why that was. Why her whole life had become focused on making Ivo happy, when before she had claimed to be using him only for her own ends. That was unimportant, she told herself blithely. What was important was meeting Miles. Whatever he might tell, she must listen. Ivo was a good man—she truly believed that. Whatever he had done in the past did not matter, not now, not to her.

  They would look upon it, and then put it behind them.

  Briar took a deep, sustaining breath, and kept walking.

  “Where is Briar?”

  Mary looked up at Ivo’s question, and then down again as swiftly. Ivo frowned, flicking a glance at Sweyn. Sweyn shrugged.

  “Mary?” Ivo repeated, stepping closer. The girl’s cheeks were bright red, and her fingers clutched at the cloth she was mending as though she would strangle it. “Do you know where Briar is, Mary?”

  She sighed and looked up again. The guilty expression in her eyes made him uneasy. Why should sweet Mary be guilty about anything?

  “I think she’s gone to meet someone,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Ivo, truly I am. I would have stopped her, but she slipped out while I slept.”

  Ivo sank down on his knees before her, and Mary’s eyes widened in surprise. He caught her hands in his, trying not to hurt her. A frantic pulse was beating in his jaw, and he had to blink away the terror he knew was in his eyes.

  “Mary,” he said, his voice trembling, “who has she gone to meet? Who is this person, Mary?”

  “Ivo, you are frightening her!” Sweyn was behind him, but Ivo ignored his friend’s admonishment. There was no time for it.

  “I…” She glanced to Sweyn, and back to Ivo. She took a steadying breath, and straightened her shoulders very like Briar was wont to do when she was preparing herself for something unpleasant. “I don’t know who it was, Ivo. He was in the alcove, off the hall, last night, and she spoke with him there. I wanted to go home, and I came to fetch her and…”

  She flicked another look at Sweyn, the color returning to her cheeks.

  “Go on, Mary,” Ivo insisted. “’Tis important we know.”

  “I listened, a little. They spoke of meeting today, at my father’s house. That is where she has gone. She made an assignation. Ivo, I am so sorry.”

  Her fingers squeezed his, but Ivo did not notice. He was frozen in place, slowly being suffocated by a sense of terrible foreboding.

  “You do not know it was Miles,” Sweyn said sharply, pressing his shoulder. “Ivo?”

  “Did you see this man?” Ivo asked Mary, and his voice was not his own. “Did you see what he looked like?”

  Mary swallowed, frightened now. “I did, just for a moment. It was dark, but…he was tall and dark-haired, and handsome, too. But I did not like him. There was something about him, something cold. Mayhap it was his eyes. They were pale and even when he smiled, they did not…”

  She had barely finished the words when Ivo was on his feet, brushing by Sweyn and running for the door. Cursing, Sweyn ran after him, shouting orders to Radulf’s men, who waited outside.

  “Watch her! Do not allow anyone near her!”

  Mary stood in the doorway, her mouth agape as they rode off.

  The house that had once belonged to her father was just as abandoned. Only this time Briar had no Ivo to hold her hand and make her feel better. ’Twas strange, how she had felt so irritated by his care of her before, but that now she missed it. She missed him.

  Briar stomped her feet, trying to thaw out her cold toes. She could see no sign of Miles. He had said he had something to tell her about Anna? What could that be? Before she could get the information from him, he had changed the subject to Ivo, and then Mary had come. Perhaps it was only that Lord Fitzmorton was another of Anna’s lovers?

  How could her father have loved his wife, and still she had shared her favors among so many others? It was incomprehensible to Briar, and unforgivable.

  If I loved a man I would not betray him for a moment’s pleasure. I would not betray Ivo…

  Her mind stilled at the thought. Love? Did she love Ivo de Vessey? Was that what this warm glow around her heart was? But Briar was not sure she wanted to explore that thought, not yet, not now. It was not the place or the time for thoughts of love.

  The house stood silent, waiting.

  Briar peered at it, swinging her arms now. The air was getting colder. If she waited much longer she would surely freeze to death. She may as well go inside and wait there. Mayhap Miles had left her a message? Mayhap he had already come and gone?

  Again that strange thump of her heart.

  As if it were warning her.

  As usual when something interfered with her plans, Briar ignored it. Instead she gathered her skirts in her hands, and picked her way over the fallen debris to the door.

  Inside the air was stale, and the smell of smoke seemed stronger than it had been yesterday. Briar wrinkled her nose in distaste but continued forward, mindful of the uneven floor. The twittering birds were silent, but Briar didn’t mark it. In fact she was so busy watching her feet, it was not until he cleared his throat that Briar sensed she was not alone.

  “Oh!” She looked up, startled, and then laughed nervously. “You are here after all, Sir Miles.”

  “It would seem so, lady,” he said easily, and his bow was slight.

  Briar could not see his face properly, the light from the jagged hole in the wall was behind him again. However his voice was mild, unthreatening, and she forced herself to relax. This is Ivo’s brother. What have I to fear from Ivo’s brother?

  As if he had read the name in her thoughts, Miles said, “My brother is not with you?”

  “No, he is not. You told me not to tell him, remember?”

  “I remember.” He smiled. “I am grateful.”

  Comforted, Briar took a step closer.

  “Ivo would never have allowed you to come here on your own, lady. He would have brought a dozen men with swords. He doesn’t trust me, you see.”

  Satisfaction permeated his voice, and something more, something that oozed through his words, chilling Briar’s blood. Like evil.

  Briar’s heart gave that hard thump, more urgently this time. She tried to remember who she was, to restore her courage. Lady Briar, daughter of Lord Richard Kenton. Aye, she was quite capable of dealing with a mere knight. And her feelings might be a little confused right now, but she would not let them overwhelm her. She was here on a matter of importance to Ivo, and the sooner she found out what she needed to, the sooner she could leave.

  �
��You said you had something to tell me about my stepmother, Sir Miles,” she reminded him, as calmly as she was able. “And about Ivo.”

  He walked forward, and he was not smiling. His gray eyes were as cold as the Ouse in winter. As he drew closer, his face no longer seemed handsome, but instead had the lean, unpleasant look of a weasel or a stoat. A killing animal, an animal without pity. Why had she ever thought him charming?

  Briar shivered. It was very cold in here. Her breath puffed white and her toes were going numb.

  “Sir Miles? Lady Anna?” she reminded him.

  “What can I tell you about Lady Anna? She was a wellborn whore.”

  Briar heard her own gasp. “I—that is brutal, Sir Miles,” she managed, but her face betrayed her.

  He smiled then, enjoying her fear. “I prefer brutal, Lady Briar. You asked me to tell you, and I have. She lay with my master Fitzmorton, but then her eye turned to me, and so she lay with me, too. She was beautiful, but even beauty loses something when you are made aware so many men have used it before you. Don’t you think?”

  “I am not schooled in such matters.”

  Her voice was frigid, but it took all of her willpower not to stumble backward, away from him. Briar sensed that if she ran he would give chase, and enjoy the hunt, so she stood still and brave before him.

  “Did you…” Her throat had gone dry, and she cleared it. “Did you kill her, Sir Miles?”

  The look he gave her was astonished. “Why would I? Put myself at risk for such as she? Nay, lady, I did not kill her. She was not worth the effort.”

  Briar felt the nausea in her belly, threatening to sap her strength. Not now! Please, sweet babe, not now! She must not be weak. She must talk her way out of this place, then escape and run. Run all the way home, if necessary. Dear God, she thought, let Ivo forgive me. What have I done, what have I done…

  “Ivo wants you.” He said it like an accusation.

  “Nay,” Briar laughed brightly, as if he had made a nonsense joke. “He does not want me, Sir Miles. I am a diversion to him, that is all. The traitor’s daughter who sings songs. He thinks me an oddity.”

  He didn’t believe her. She saw it in his wolfish smile. And she knew, in that single moment, what her heart had been trying to tell her all along. He would hurt her, but not because he had any grudge against her. He would hurt her because by doing so he could make Ivo suffer.

  “You were riding with him the night I tried to frighten him,” he went on accusingly. “He knew it was me. I saw the fear in his eyes.”

  Briar remembered the night in question well, the journey from Lord Shelborne’s house, but she had not realized until now that it was Miles who came out of the darkness, screaming like a devil.

  “Ivo is afraid of nothing,” she said with complete certainty.

  Miles’s pale eyes narrowed. “Ivo was always the brother that people preferred,” he said, and it was a statement. “That people loved. Do you love him, lady?”

  Aye, I do love him.

  Briar shook her head, her eyes on him. She dared not look away, in case he sprang.

  “I think you are lying,” he said, and shook his finger at her as if she were a wayward child. “I think you do love my brother. I am going to enjoy this. I wondered whether or not I should finish you in the alcove last night—I had a dagger, nice and sharp—but then I decided I needed more time. There are so many things we can do together, lady. Oh yes, I am going to enjoy imagining Ivo’s face—when he finds what is left of you…”

  The bird flew up.

  It must have been nesting in part of the wall and their voices had disturbed it. It was the only chance she had, and Briar used it. She turned and ran for the door. It seemed leagues away. A patch of brightness in the shadows. She heard him behind her. His fingers tugged briefly on the back of her cloak, and then he was cursing foully as he stumbled on loose stone. Next thing she was out in the light, gasping as if she had run the entire length of York.

  The man stepped in front of her so suddenly she cannoned into him.

  Briar screamed, backing away, her feet stumbling on the uneven road. He caught her in his arms, and something in his touch, his warmth, his scent, spelled safety. Wildly, she looked up into his face. Savage dark eyes, hair growing back some of its riotous curl, and a grim, white face.

  It was Ivo.

  Briar’s limbs turned to water.

  He gripped her arms a moment longer, holding her until she had steadied herself, and then he looked past her. Briar also swung around, trembling for what she might see, but there was no one. Only the abandoned house as silent and forbidding as before.

  “But…where did he go?” she gasped, eyes huge.

  “You mean Miles.” It was not a question.

  “He was inside. I…I was frightened of him.”

  “At least you have that aright.” But his dark gaze slid quickly over her, assessing any damage, and if possible he grew even more angry. “Briar, stay here with Sweyn. Do not move. Do you understand me?”

  For the first time, Briar noticed Sweyn standing to one side. Instinctively she wanted to protest. She didn’t want to stay here, she didn’t want him to go inside alone. But his intensity was such that she bit her lip and nodded her head. He walked toward the building, his head moving slowly from side to side as he surveyed his surrounds with all the care of a prospective purchaser. And then he reached down and slid his sword from its scabbard and walked through the doorway into the darkness.

  Briar held her breath. She expected to hear shouts, swords clashing, a dying scream…Ivo came out of the house with a quick, easy stride, resheathing his sword as he approached.

  “There is no one there now,” he said shortly, with a glance at Sweyn. “Miles must have found another way out—there are plenty of broken walls. He was always good at running away.”

  Sweyn gave an edgy laugh. “This time you’ll catch him, Ivo. This time you’ll beat him.”

  Ivo nodded, but he looked bleak.

  Briar closed her eyes, weary beyond imagining. “I do not understand. He said he had more to tell me of my stepmother, and to meet him here. He said he would talk to me of you. I thought it would be a good thing, to bring you together again, to reconcile you with all that remains of your family. If it was me, then I would want that very much, Ivo, and he…he seemed to want that.”

  The expression in his eyes hardened. Turned into a dark and burning fury. “What happened, Briar?” he asked her, and she could feel the tension in him as he waited for her answer.

  She spoke slowly, halting over her words as she recalled her terror. “Once I was inside the house, I knew it had all been a lie. A reason to bring me to him, alone. He wanted me because he thought I belonged to you. He planned to use me, to hurt me, to hurt you.”

  Ivo took her arm in strong fingers. “You spoke to him last night. Was that when you hatched this plan?”

  “Aye,” she whispered, casting him an anxious glance. “I saw him at the back of the hall, and when I went to find him he was waiting in a chamber there. He asked me to meet him here, today. He said not to tell, that you would not like it, that there were reasons and he would explain to me. He…he wept. He was so plausible, Ivo. I did not think to doubt him.”

  But Briar remembered she had doubted; she had simply pushed her inner warnings aside. Briar the impulsive, with her mind set on doing what she thought was best. Would she never learn? Had not the night she mistook Ivo for Radulf taught her that she was not always right?

  Ivo was watching her, mayhap thinking the same thing. Was she too much trouble for him, too much of a bother? She did not want to be a burden. The thought of being seen in that light made her squirm. She loved him, and during those moments with Miles, she had wanted nothing more than to have the opportunity to tell him so.

  And yet now she said nothing.

  “Miles has a warrant on his head, lady,” Sweyn said, glancing between the two of them with curious blue eyes. “That is why he was hiding last n
ight, why he cannot walk about like a free man. He led a rebellion against Lord Radulf in Somerset, and the king wasn’t best pleased.”

  “I did not know,” she whispered. “You should have told me.”

  Ivo spoke. “Would you have listened, Briar? When I went to your dwelling and found you missing, I had a feeling ’twas Miles’s doing. He ever had the smoother tongue. There were always women eager and willing to fall into his lap like ripe plums. And then he would suck them dry and spit them out.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, not sure whether she was apologizing for her own actions or those of his brother. “How did you find me?”

  “Mary overheard you last night, lady, and unlike you she did not like Miles’s looks. You are lucky to have a sister who loves you and watches out for you. If I had not come, Briar…How could you be so foolish?” He stopped, and pressed his lips tight together.

  She took a breath, feeling some of her uncertainty ebbing away. She had acted in good faith, after all. “I meant to help, Ivo. I thought if I could heal the rift between you and Miles, you would forgive my lack of…of honesty. That the end justified the means.” Her eyes narrowed. “You should have told me. I asked you again and again, but you wouldn’t explain to me.”

  “So now ’tis my fault?” Ivo drew a deep sigh and looked away from her tear-filled eyes, staring down the once lively, and now forlorn street.

  “Nay, not entirely…”

  Ivo looked as if he would have liked to smile, but didn’t have the heart for it. “You are right. I should have told you. I should have made you aware of what he was. I thought I could keep you safe by keeping you in ignorance. And I thought…I hoped I wouldn’t have to tell you, Briar. I didn’t want you to know about the past. There are matters, there are things I do not tell many people.”

  Briar stared at his profile, the sharp nose and strong chin, the dark stubble on his jaw and the curls beginning to grow longer at his brow. He is going to tell me something horrible, she thought, her heart turning cold. Something so horrible that I won’t be able to love him anymore.