My Valiant Knight (10 page)

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Authors: Hannah Howell

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: My Valiant Knight
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As he started to lead his men out of Bellefleur, Justice trotted up beside him and Gabel scowled at his young cousin. “You should not be here.”
“I am healed enough to ride about looking for a tiny female,” Justice replied.
“The weather could turn poorly, and that could go hard on you.”
“If the weather turns against us, then I will turn back.”
“Why are you so determined to go on this search?”
“She is a tiny woman wandering about a dangerous land with no horse and none of her weapons. She did not even take her dog which, to my mind, is very strange. ’Tis but gallantry which prods me.”
Gabel snorted softly in derision as they rode through the gates. “You but find excuses to leave your bedchamber. ’Tis boredom which prods you.”
Justice laughed and nodded. “Aye, there is some truth in that.” He grew serious and studied his cousin closely. “I also have a strange feeling about all of this. True, wellborn virgins can sorely regret the loss of their maidenheads, and some even act most oddly come the morning. Howbeit, Ainslee MacNairn does not act like any lady I have met, so why should she act like one now? Why not at least take the dog? It would have been easy for her to slip the beast free. No one guards the dogs. And, Gabel, what of Ronald? Everything she has done until now has shown that she would ne’er leave the man behind, yet suddenly, she walks away without even telling him? Nay, cousin, I find this all very troubling and confusing.”
After a moment’s thought, Gabel nodded. When he had realized that Ainslee had not even said farethewell to Ronald, he too had begun to be puzzled, but at that time his anger had clouded his thoughts. His suspicions still lingered, for he did not dare trust her too completely, but now he was willing to at least listen to her—if they got her back to Bellefleur.
 
 
Ainslee stumbled down the small rise and cursed as she scraped her legs on the rocky ground. She was tired, cold, and her head ached so badly she had trouble seeing clearly at times. It was nearly sunset and, if she had judged her distances and directions correctly, that meant she was barely half the way to Bellefleur. That thought was so debilitating, she wanted to sit down and weep.
There was a dampness in the chilling air that told her the storm which had hung in the sky all day was about to unleash itself, and she feared it would be snow. Since she did not really know where she was, she did not know where she could find shelter, and that frightened her a little. If the snow was a gentle one, she could continue on, but there was always the chance that it could be a fierce storm, the sort that could leave livestock and people buried until the spring thaw.
“Enough,” she snapped at herself. “Ye have quite enough trouble to deal with without scaring yourself to death, fool.”
She paused to study her clothes, then sat down and cut a few strips of cloth from her blanket cape. Her hands were chilled to the bone and she needed to warm them. Ainslee hoped that the strips of blanket wrapped around her cold fingers would be enough to keep them from getting a dangerous chill.
“I am going to kill Lady Margaret Fraser when I get back,” she swore in a low, hard voice as she started walking again. “I am going to kill her verra slowly, too.”
As she carefully crossed over a low, swiftly running brook, she cursed the encroaching darkness. She still was not sure where she was, and finding her way through a strange land in the dark was not going to be easy. Ainslee prayed she had covered more distance than she realized, for she was definitely going to be slowed down.
Gabel had to know that she was not at Bellefleur by now, and she wondered what he was thinking, then grumbled a curse. Gabel de Amalville was probably thinking she had fled his embrace or, worse, used his lusts against him to enable herself the freedom to escape. He had no reason to trust a MacNairn, and she had begun to suspect that he had no great trust in women. He was probably out looking for her, and thinking some very unkind things about her. That would certainly please Lady Margaret, and the thought that that woman might benefit from her crimes gave Ainslee a little burst of strength. When she got back to Bellefleur, she would no longer play any games, no longer wait for Gabel to see the truth for himself, she would expose Lady Margaret Fraser for the devious, deadly adder she was.
 
 
A light flurry of snow dampened Gabel’s face, and he cursed. It was almost dark, but they still had enough light to search for a little longer; however, the coming of snow ended all hope of continuing. It was time to head back to Bellefleur and not just for Justice’s health. There was no telling how fierce the storm might become, and they needed what time they might have left to reach the safety and warmth of his keep. He was angry at the weather, angry at the dark, and, most of all, angry that he had failed to recapture Ainslee, if only so that he could have a few answers to all the questions crowding his mind.
“We must turn back,” he announced to his men, and politely ignored the relief they could not hide. He forced a smile of greeting for Justice, who rode up beside him. “You do not look poorly.”
“Nay. An easy ride looking for someone was not enough to weaken me, although I shall be pleased to get in out of the cold and damp,” Justice said.
“I do not understand how she has eluded us. Aye, she is but one small lass on foot and thus could easily hide, but we should have seen some sign of her.”
“That is something that troubles many of the men. There is no trail. There was nothing to reveal that she even left Bellefleur, except that she is not there.”
“Well, Ainslee has many skills one would not believe a woman would have.”
“That she does, but there ought to be at least a footprint, a broken twig, something. There is nothing. ’Tis as if she floated away from Bellefleur and, clever lass that she is, even I do not believe she can fly.”
“If she is not at Bellefleur, then she has to be heading to Kengarvey.”
“One would think so.” Justice shrugged. “Yet, it greatly disturbs me that we have seen no sign of her passage. None of your men-at-arms saw her leave. None of your crofters has seen any sign that someone has passed by them.”
Gabel frowned and rubbed his chin as he thought for a moment. “Do you think she may have gone in the wrong direction?”
“I have already considered that, and whilst you were glaring at the ground and cursing all women, I took the freedom to send two of your men off to look south, east, and west.”
“And they found no sign of her?”
“They have not returned to report any, so I must assume that they found none and now wait for us at Bellefleur.”
“Curse the girl, where is she? She will be caught out in this poor weather, and that can be very dangerous. Even if she is headed straight to Kengarvey, she will not reach there before the storm reaches its full strength.” Gabel realized that, despite his lingering anger, he was now worried about Ainslee. “I think I need to sit and think. You are right, something is very strange about this whole matter. I heard she was gone and immediately assumed she had escaped. Mayhaps that was a swift, harsh judgement brought about by my own mistrusts. I simply do not know, and that leaves us to ride about in circles.”
“Aye, and mayhaps we should look at what else could have driven her from Bellefleur, or if there are other reasons and causes of her disappearance.”
“Do you think some harm has been done to her?”
“Who can say, but I think you might consider the fact that the Frasers have made no secret of their hatred of the MacNairns,” Justice reminded him. “They might have decided that striking at the MacNairns was worth abusing the hospitality of their host.”
“I never considered that,” Gabel whispered, and cursed his own stupidity. “I must tread warily in finding out what, if anything, they had to do with this. They are powerful and well favored at the king’s court. It would do us no good to offend them or accuse them, without the sort of proof that cannot be denied or ignored.”
The possibility that Ainslee had been hurt or even murdered sent a chill down Gabel’s spine. He much preferred being angry, even hurt, that she had left him or even tricked him. If any harm had come to her at the hands of the Frasers, he would have to shoulder some of the blame. He had had his suspicions about his guests, and they had made no secret of how much they loathed Ainslee, yet he had done nothing to protect her from them. Suddenly, instead of cursing her as yet another treacherous female, Gabel found himself hoping that Ainslee had indeed used his desire for her to gain a chance of escape. At least she would be safe.
It was not until late that evening that Gabel got an opportunity to subtlely question the Frasers. He joined his guests in the great hall for a late meal. As he studied Lady Margaret Fraser and her father, Gabel realized that he did not find it hard to believe that they would hurt a small woman who had done them no real harm.
“I hear that ye had little success in finding that MacNairn womon,” Lady Margaret said as she had a page refill her tankard with ale.
“Nay, none at all,” replied Gabel. “ ’Tis as if the girl flew away.”
“What do ye mean?”
“She has left no sign of her passing, not a footprint, not even a scent for the dogs.”
“Ye sent the dogs out?”
“Only to try and find the start of her trail. I am not one to set the dogs on anyone. I thought it would help us, but they found nothing. Even her own hound could not track her.”
Gabel admitted to himself that Ugly’s inability to find his mistress’s scent had been the most alarming of his failures to find her. He watched Margaret closely as he spoke, but he saw no hint of guilt, or of a fear that he might discover what she and her father had done. Neither did he see any sign of concern or, more curiously, surprise. He had just told her that one tiny Scottish lady had fled the crowded, well-guarded Bellefleur leaving no trace of her passage, and that even the dogs could not sniff her out. This was at least worthy of an expression of astonishment, but Margaret did not blink an eye. It was as if she knew there would be no sign. Gabel told himself not to let his old mistrust of women now lead him to rashly suspect Margaret, but his growing suspicion could not be stifled.
“Weel, the MacNairns have always been a stealthy lot with a true skill at sneaking about.”
“Mayhaps. We only found the trail your cousin and his friend left behind. ’Tis odd, but they rode south. I thought they went to join your brother at the king’s court, which is north of here.” Lord Fraser looked up a little sharply, but Gabel saw no response in Margaret’s expression except for a slow closing of her eyes, and then one, brief narrow-eyed glance.
“I suspect they have journeyed to visit their whores ere they become entangled in my brother’s work, and the whore my cousin Ian favors lives a few miles south of here,” Margaret replied, smiling sweetly at Gabel. “If my cousin arrives at court late, my brother will soon discipline him for his laxity.”
“As he should,” Gabel murmured, but his suspicions hardened. Even if the Frasers did not have a hand in Ainslee’s disappearance, they knew where she was. He was increasingly sure of that. “I but find it all a little puzzling that she would flee without telling her man Ronald anything, and without even trying to take her dog with her.”
“Weel, servants canna be trusted to keep a confidence and why should the woman care about that dog? She can get another one.”
Gable shrugged, not arguing her opinions, but finding the swift explanations and the intensity behind them interesting. Margaret was working hard to keep her eyes averted, thus sheltering her expression. If the woman had something to do with Ainslee’s disappearance, she was probably beginning to think that she may have made a few serious mistakes. Gabel wished she would add some revealing slip of the tongue to that list of errors, but he began to doubt that he would ever be able to get Margaret or her father to say anything that would implicate them in any crime. That left him with nothing more than suspicions, guesses, and possibilities. Gabel cursed inwardly. He needed far more than that. Ainslee’s life could easily depend upon it.
“I worry the matter too much,” he said and took a sip of his wine.
“Aye. Ye will see. When that thief MacNairn replies to your last ransom demand, it will be to tell you that he need pay you naught, for his daughter is safe at home.”
“I hope you are correct, Lady Margaret. I wished to collect a ransom for the girl; I did not wish any harm to come to her, either from someone within Bellefleur or because of my own neglect. If I discover that she has been purposely harmed, I will see that the crime is punished.” He smiled sweetly at her, his expression indicating that he did not mean her, but the looks that briefly passed over her and her father’s faces told Gabel that they had heard and understood the threat.
“M’lord,” cried a page as he hurried up to the table. “I think you had better come with me. Sir Justice says there is something beyond the walls that you will be most interested in.”
Ten
A
vicious curse broke from Ainslee’s wind-chilled lips as she stumbled and her painfully cold hands became buried in the icy snow. Out of habit she looked around to make sure that no one had heard her, then cursed again. She was the only unfortunate to be out in the freezing cold and snow. No matter how foul and blasphemous she spoke, no one was there to admonish her.
Ainslee stood up and vainly tried to brush the snow from her hands and her clothes. It was a useless gesture for she was already soaked through to the skin, but she hoped that, if she could not see herself covered in snow, she might be able to convince herself that she was not as cold as she was. As she plodded on, she wondered what she had done in her short life to deserve such a punishment. It seemed grossly unfair that the devious, murderous Lady Margaret was warm and comfortable inside of Bellefleur, while she was in danger of freezing to death. Even if she did not die in the snow itself, Ainslee was beginning to fear that she was returning to Bellefleur only to fall ill with a fever and die.
She was tired and she ached to lie down, but she knew the danger of that. To give into the urge to sleep was to welcome death. What kept her trudging on now was not only the desperate need to make Margaret pay for her crime, but also the intensifying craving to see Gabel and Ronald one more time. If she was going to die, she did not want to do it out in the middle of nowhere with no chance of saying farewell to her friend and her lover. There were things she wanted to say to both men, things she would never be able to say if she lost her life beneath the icy white covering the ground.
Just as she began to think she did not even have enough stubbornness left to keep moving, a dark shape formed ahead of her in the snow. Afraid to believe her eyes, she stumbled forward until the shape became more distinct. When she recognized it as Bellefleur, she wanted to weep with relief, but, even if she could produce the tears, she was sure they would freeze upon her cheeks.
“Now all I have to pray for is that some guard upon the walls does not mistake me for an enemy or a possible meal and cut me down,” she muttered as she struggled to move faster through the deepening snow.
 
 
Justice stared out at the figure stumbling through the snow and shook his head. When Gabel rushed up to his side upon the high walls of Bellefleur, Justice said nothing, simply pointed. He nodded when Gabel gaped out at the tiny shape moving clumsily across the snow, then cursed.
“ ’Tis Ainslee?” Gabel whispered, shock and doubt turning his statement into an uncertain question.
“It appears to be,” said Justice. “My first thought was to hurry out and get her, but I thought again.”
“Why? She must be nearly frozen to death.” Gabel scowled at his cousin when the younger man grabbed him by the arm and kept him from running down off the walls.
“She may be, but she is a MacNairn, one of a clan you have declared outlaws. I do not believe she would do so, but one cannot ignore the possibility that she is being used as a trap, as a lure meant to make us open our gates.”
“She has not had time to get to Kengarvey, plot that clever a trap with her kinsmen, and return.”
“Nay, I do not think so. ’Twas one of those things I felt you must decide.”
“Alright. We will not open the gates widely, only enough to allow one thin girl in, and the men are to be prepared to respond swiftly and fully to any hint of attack.” As Gabel hurried down the walls, he heard Justice relaying his orders to the other men.
Gabel eased open the gate and peered out. He could see no one beside Ainslee. As she approached, she stumbled every few steps. He ached to rush out and help her, but he stood fast. The need to cast aside all caution and run to her aid was born of emotion, and he had too many people to protect to act upon that. She fell against the edge of the door and he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her inside even as the two gatekeepers hurried to close the gates and bar them again.
He tugged her into the circle of light cast off by a torch stuck in the wall near the gate and studied her, as Justice ran up to them. She looked dangerously cold, and her attire was strange. When she moaned softly and collapsed against him, he picked her up in his arms.
“Did you become lost, Mistress MacNairn?” he said, his voice hard as he fought to hide his worry. “Kengarvey is still many miles to the north.”
“I have walked as far as I can today, m’laird. I believe I would like to seek my bed now.”
With a concerned Justice keeping pace, Gabel strode into Bellefleur. Her answer, gritted out from between chattering teeth, still told him nothing about what had happened. As he stepped into the hall, the brighter light there gave him a better look at Ainslee. It would be a while before she was recovered enough to question.
Ainslee struggled to lift her head from where she had rested it against Gabel’s shoulder. The bright light briefly blinded her, but then she saw Margaret Fraser standing in the doorway leading to the great hall. She moved so abruptly that Gabel nearly dropped her, but Ainslee managed to free herself from his hold. When she tried to stand up, she swayed and he caught her by the arms, but she held firm, refusing to allow him to pick her up again.
“I am not as easy to kill as my mother,” she said, staring right at Lady Margaret, who was too furious to hide her feelings.
“I fear the poor girl has been made delirious by her ordeal and now babbles,” Lady Margaret replied, her voice cold even as she attempted to give Gabel a polite yet beseeching smile.
“Nay. Ye canna play that game anymore, Margaret. Ye should have stayed with boulders dropped from the windows, or mayhaps a touch of poison. Ye should have kenned that, if this grand scheme to be rid of me failed, ye had no way to explain or excuse it.”
“Ye are talking like a madwomon.”
Although it caused her raw hands to bleed, Ainslee took the Fraser brooch from her shoulder and tossed it at Margaret’s feet. “Do ye recognize this, m’lady? I fear your dim-witted cousin Ian has lost the only friend he probably had.”
“Ye have spilled Fraser blood? This is why she spits out such wild accusations and lies, m’lord,” Margaret said to Gabel. “She tries to excuse her crimes.”
“If I werena little more than a lump of ice, I would gladly spill a wee bit more Fraser blood by cutting your throat,” Ainslee snapped and even attempted to take a step toward Margaret, crying out in frustration when Gabel again lifted her up in his arms. “Give me but a moment to warm myself, Gabel, and then I will make that sly whore pay.”
“Hush, Ainslee,” he ordered her, and then he looked coldly at Margaret. “Justice,” he called to his cousin, “I would like you to keep company with the Frasers until I have tended to Ainslee, for I wish to talk to them.” He waited long enough to see Justice and another man nudge Lady Margaret back into the great hall and then climbed the stairs to Ainslee’s bedchamber. “We searched for you, but could find no trail.”
“Ye were looking for the wrong trail, one made by me alone,” Ainslee said. “Ye should have looked for the trail I ken her cousin and his friend left. Those fools were too stupid not to have left a verra clear trail.” As her body warmed, she became aware of a great many pains and touched her fingers to her stinging mouth. When she saw the blood on her fingers, she cursed. “I think my lips have fallen off in the snow.”
“Nay,” he replied with a calm he did not feel. “I believe there are still a few pieces left beneath the blood.”
A sharp, stinging pain began to creep over her body, and she moaned softly. “I think I am bleeding everywhere.”
“I do not believe so, dearling. ’Tis just the blood moving through your veins again.”
“I dinna think it is verra fair that becoming warm again should be such a painful thing.”
Ainslee said nothing else as Gabel took her into her room and set her down on her bed. With occasional help from a maid, he stripped off her soaked clothing, bathed her, and wrapped her in a warm gown. He helped her sip a tankard of warmed mead, and then tucked her securely beneath the blankets. Once the pain in her body began to ease and all her injuries and raw skin were covered in salve and bandaged, she began to feel sleepy. For a moment she fought the feeling, still afraid to sleep, for it could be the first step toward death.
“You did not try to escape?” he asked, growing more and more certain that she had not, but wanting to hear her say so.
Her voice barely a whisper, and her words a little slurred as she tried not to move her lips much, Ainslee replied, “Gabel, I tell ye truly, my father willna pay for Ronald alone. He doesna like Ronald and considers him a worthless cripple. Making the mon my nursemaid wasna meant to be an honor, ye ken. Nay, unless Ronald returns with me, he willna return. If I left Ronald here and went to Kengarvey alone, I would never see the mon again. Kenning that, do ye really believe I would try to escape without him?”
“I did consider that odd.”
“But, when ye found me gone, ye thought I had slipped away so that I might deprive ye of your ransom and your chance to please the king.”
It was faint, and Gabel suspected that was only because she was so exhausted, but the sting in her words made him flinch with guilt. “Aye, although I did still have a few questions.”
“Did ye. Howbeit, ye had been smelling plots, and when I was gone ye felt that escape had been the plot ye had been sniffing out. Weel, I am sorry that I canna make it all that easy for ye.” She winced, for the movement caused her pain, but she reached out to grasp his hand. “I willna say that I will ne‘er try to flee, but I would ne’er leave Ronald behind. He, Ugly, and Malcolm are my family. Try to forget that I am one of the lawless MacNairns for but a moment, and look about ye, Gabel de Amalville. I am not the one plotting here.”
“Is that what you have been trying to tell me for days?”
“Aye. I felt ye would ne’er heed the warnings of a MacNairn against a Fraser and hoped to make ye see their treacherous natures on your own. Weel, that game has twice nearly cost me my life. I believe I canna wait for ye to open your eyes any longer. I am too weary to say much now. Come back when I have rested, and I will tell ye more than ye may wish to ken about your guests. If ye dinna wish to wait that long, then go and speak to Ronald. Tell him that I have confessed to my little games and that I accept failure. In truth, he kens more about them than I do.”
“I will. Rest, Ainslee,” he said softly and brushed a kiss over her wind-reddened forehead. “I will send my aunt in to sit with you for a while,” he added, and then smiled faintly, for she was already asleep.
As soon as he had fetched his aunt to nurse Ainslee, Gabel went to Ronald’s room. The man’s blatant relief that Ainslee had been found and his concern over her health only worked to confirm her assertions. Once Gabel gave Ronald her message, the man spoke freely about the Frasers. Gabel could not believe he had been so blind. He wanted to make them pay dearly for their attempts to murder Ainslee, but he knew that would be a mistake. At the moment the king would consider their only crime to be an abuse of his hospitality, for the MacNairns were declared outlaws, and that gave anyone the right to do to them as they wished.
When Gabel finally entered the great hall to meet with the Frasers, he did not want to listen to any explanations they had devised, but he forced himself to do so. He heard them out, then coldly told them they were to leave Bellefleur as soon as the weather had improved. It did not surprise him when they both acted outraged. The Frasers could not afford to have him as an enemy, and would do most anything to sway his favor back to them.
“M’lord,” Lady Margaret said as she drew near to him and lightly stroked his arm, ignoring the way he tensed and jerked away. “How can ye believe the lass’s tales? She is a MacNairn. She obviously tried to escape, something went wrong, and she had to come back here, so she tries to turn your righteous anger away from herself.”
“Then explain to me how she came by a Fraser’s brooch, as well as the cloak and sword of one of your men?”
“She stole them ere she fled into the night.”
“Nay, I think not. I think she got them when she was forced to fight for her life. Go. You are to leave as soon as travel is possible, and I suggest you keep out of my sight until that time comes.”
Before Margaret could protest anymore, her father dragged her out of the great hall. Gabel sighed, poured himself a tankard of wine, and had a long drink. When Justice sat down beside him, he pushed the jug of wine toward his cousin.
“So, you believe Ainslee’s claim?” asked Justice as he poured himself a drink.
“Aye. Although some of the clothes she was given are missing, she wears none of them. She was dressed in a man’s cloak, her nightrail, and a blanket. Scraps of cloth were all she had for her feet and hands. Ainslee would never leave so ill prepared. Nay, I do not know exactly what happened out there, and will not know until Ainslee is recovered enough to tell me, but this was no attempt to escape.”
“If she did not tell you exactly what happened, how can you be so sure the Frasers had a hand in it?”
“Because of all that Ronald told me about them. Ainslee had a Fraser brooch, so a Fraser had to be with her. Margaret’s cousin and his friend left before dawn, just as we had thought Ainslee had. They obviously took her out of here. Neither of those men has, or had, the wit to plan such a trick, and we can be very sure that they were not trying to help her.”

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