Cast Love Aside (15 page)

“And so I will.” Royce laid a hand on his
courier's shoulder. “You have done as well as any man could, and I
thank you for your speedy return. Go below to the hall and find the
food you surely need, then get some rest.”

With a bow, Sir John left them.

“How can we hope to free Desmond if we can't
discover where he’s being held and if King Louis claims he knows
nothing about him?” Magnus asked. “Did Louis tell Sir John the
truth, or did he lie? How can we find out the truth? What in the
name of heaven do we do now?”

“Now, we ask the man who bought Desmond from
the Scotts who captured him,” Royce answered. “We ask Erland.”

“Erland bought Desmond?” Magnus stared at
Royce, dumbfounded by what he had just heard. “Did you learn that
last night while you were decoding Erland's notes? And you’ve
neglected to say so until now?”

“I've known it all along,” Royce said. “The
information was in a message Norbard sent to me months ago.”

“Why didn't you tell me when you recruited me
for this cursed mission?” Magnus demanded.

“We were afraid you'd be so angry that you'd
kill Erland rather than bothering to bring him to England,” Royce
said with infuriating coolness.

“Your lies are truly fascinating. But then,
lies are to be expected of a secret agent, aren't they? You work by
lies and concealment, and by sending men into danger ignorant of
what they ought to know.” Magnus took a menacing step toward the
man he had, until just a few moments ago, begun to think of as a
friend. Despite his best effort he couldn’t hide his disappointment
in Royce. “On that first day at Windsor, you said you were
recruiting me because I have sense enough to use my wits and not
resort to force. Be warned, my lord; that is not always true of
me.”

“We decided that we didn't just want to
exchange Erland for Desmond,” Royce said, still cool and smiling a
little at Magnus's vehemence. “We wanted all the details of
Erland's spying operation. He couldn't tell us anything if he was
dead, or too badly injured to talk.”

“'We?'“ Magnus repeated, speaking through
clenched teeth. “Meaning you and William and Braedon? Did they know
how Erland bought Desmond – bought a knight as though he was a
horse or a cloak – while all of you kept the information from
me?”

“By 'we,' I mean King Henry and myself,”
Royce said. “We agreed not to inform your comrades, either, out of
concern that one of them would accidentally let the truth slip at
an emotional moment.”

“On the surface,” Braedon said, “that
decision does make sense. Still, Royce, I think you should have
told Magnus. We are talking about his brother, after all.”

“Wait a moment!” Lilianne cried. Leaving her
position by the windows, where she had been listening in silence,
she moved toward Royce like a lion stalking its prey. With her eyes
flashing violet fire, she rounded the long trestle table. “There is
one minor detail that may not seem important to you, my lord,
though it is of vital importance to me. You know where
my
brother is. You know from reading Erland's notes exactly what he
has done with Gilbert. Tell me now, this very instant, or by
heaven, I'll – I'll – oh, how I despise you!” Raising her fisted
hands, she launched herself at Royce.

“Lilianne, stop!” Magnus caught her shoulders
to prevent her from scratching Royce's face, which appeared to be
her aim. “I will tell you as much as I know. But after Sir John's
report, Royce and I need to speak with Erland.”

“You will not see him without me!” she
declared. “Last night you promised I could be with you the next
time you interrogate him. Besides, I no longer trust either of you
to repeat honestly whatever Erland says to you.”

“I cannot blame you,” Magnus said, hoping his
apparent composure would quiet her. In fact, he was no more calm
than Lilianne was. If not for her presence, he'd have challenged
Royce to combat over the lies the man had told and the facts he had
deliberately not revealed. For Lilianne's sake, for her brother,
and for Desmond's sake, too, Magnus bit back the furious words he
longed to hurl at Royce and spoke, instead, with a reasonableness
he did not feel. “Lilianne is right; we did promise. She must go
with us to Erland's rooms.”

“Very well.”

Royce agreed quietly to Magnus's demand,
though Magnus noted a spark of anger, or perhaps of excitement, in
his eyes. Magnus began to suspect Royce of enjoying the clash of
temperaments taking place in the solar. It occurred to him that
Royce was likely glad of Lilianne's outburst, for she had deflected
Magnus's rage. What Royce could not have understood was how
Lilianne's distress had made Magnus more resolute, more determined
to have full and honest answers to her questions, and to his
own.

“William,” Braedon said suddenly, as if he'd
only just remembered, “weren't you planning to take Lady Alice for
a ride? And wasn't I supposed to go along as chaperone?”

“Perhaps I ought to stay here,” Alice began,
looking doubtfully at Lilianne.

“William,” Lilianne said, “take her away from
here for an hour or two.”

“I will, gladly.” William smiled at Alice.
His smile broadened when Lilianne caught Alice's hand and placed it
in his.

“Magnus can fill you in later on whatever
occurs with Erland,” Royce said to Braedon as he began to follow
the other two down the steps.

“Now, my lord,” Magnus said when only he and
Lilianne remained in the solar with Royce, “what else do you know
about Desmond's captivity that you haven't seen fit to reveal to
the rest of us?”

“The king of the Scots sent two of his best
agents to France to rescue Desmond,” Royce answered. “They were
both murdered by Norbard, at Erland's command.”

“You knew this, and still you relied on
Norbard for information?” Lilianne cried.

“Norbard was already in place, working for
Erland, and he did have his uses,” Royce told her.

“You are disgusting!” she cried. “Your deceit
and your coldness in the face of murder are appalling.”

“You are not the only person to think so,”
Royce responded, apparently unmoved by her passion. Dismissing
Lilianne with a shrug of his shoulders, he turned to Magnus. “Use
your wits, man; they truly are the reason why I recruited you for
this mission. Put together what I’ve told you so far, with the
information gleaned from Erland's parchments, and what Sir John has
just reported. What does all of this suggest to you?”

Magnus frowned, aware of Lilianne staring
from Royce to him as if she could not fathom why any man would
engage in the devious activities required by spying, or how two men
who appeared to dislike each other could work in concert toward a
common end.

As for what Royce had said, Magnus required
only an instant to make the necessary connections. If he weren't so
distracted by Lilianne's presence, he'd have reached the obvious
conclusion much sooner.

“Since Erland bought Desmond, he must know
where Desmond is being held,” Magnus said. “I'll wager Norbard
knows, too. If I could find him, I'd make him speak. But we do have
Erland, conveniently sitting in the west tower.”

“Precisely,” Royce said.

“You are using all of us,” Lilianne accused
Royce. “Just as you have used Norbard in spite of knowing he's a
murderer, just as you'd use Erland if he weren't too clever for
you, so you are manipulating Magnus and me – and Alice and William
and Braedon, too. You are moving all of us around on an invisible
chessboard, as if we don't matter, as if we aren't human beings
with souls and hearts. You are even using Magnus's brother, and
mine, as pawns. But, to what end?”

“I obey King Henry's wishes,” Royce said.

“That's a paltry excuse! From what I've seen
of you, Lord Royce, you follow your own wishes.”

“Never fault my loyalty to my king.” Royce's
voice and the look in his eyes were so daunting that Lilianne fell
silent.

“I suggest we visit Erland now,” Magnus said
to Royce, “and that you allow Lilianne and me to question him,
instead of doing it all yourself. Perhaps Erland's niece will get
more out of him than you have. Lilianne seems to have the knack of
irritating him. When men are angry they sometimes speak truths
they'd never utter while in a calmer mood.”

“Indeed, they do,” Lilianne said in a voice
drenched in sarcasm. “Though, if I am to drive Erland into
forgetting his natural caution, I will require your assistance,
Magnus. You are quite capable of reducing even God's own angels to
a state of incipient violence.”

She was glorious in her passionate devotion
to her brother and to the honesty that lay at the very heart of her
being. For one moment of blinding desire Magnus contemplated
grabbing her and slinging her over his shoulder, then carrying her
off to her bedchamber, there to plunder the beautiful mouth she was
twisting in derision. His longing for her was so nearly
uncontrollable that he was forced to exert all of his considerable
strength of will just to remain where he was, several paces away
from her. He folded his arms across his chest to prevent his hands
from reaching out to her of their own accord.

Lilianne's eyes blazed into his, challenging
him with violet fire. Rather than let her know how aroused he was,
Magnus responded by smiling at her as if he was amused by her
fierceness.

“Do you want to see Erland at once?” Royce
asked them with quiet amusement. “Or would you rather quarrel
first?”

“Lead the way,” Lilianne commanded.

Magnus almost laughed out loud. Few people
dared issue orders to Royce of Wortham, but Lilianne did it with a
casual distain that lifted his spirits in spite of his worry for
her sake, and for his brother's. Warning himself to restrain the
desire that would interfere with his ability to think clearly, he
followed Lilianne and Royce down the steps and across the great
hall to the inner bailey.

* * * * *

Erland was housed in a small suite of rooms
that were used for noble prisoners who required secure lodging. The
few windows were mere arrow slits through which no one could
possibly escape. The inner room, a bedchamber, was just large
enough for a narrow bed and a stool. The main room contained a pair
of wooden chairs, a table for eating, and a charcoal brazier for
heat. Two of Royce's most trustworthy guards stood outside the
door.

“I must protest yet again.” Erland began
complaining the moment Royce appeared. “The conditions under which
you are holding me are disgraceful. I deserve better
treatment.”

“No doubt you house your nephew under similar
conditions,” Royce said, stepping aside to let Lilianne and Magnus
follow him through the door.

“My nephew's circumstances have nothing to do
with the way you are abusing me,” Erland said. “I demand larger
quarters, with at least two more braziers and tapestries on the
walls. These rooms are drafty; I'm freezing. The food is repellant
to a man of cultivated tastes and the wine is no better than
vinegar. I ought not to be here at all. As a French nobleman, I
insist upon the comforts to which I am entitled. And get that
stupid girl out of here! I do not want to see her.” He ended his
list of demands with a threatening look at Lilianne that would have
sent a less courageous woman fleeing out the door.

“Royce,” Magnus said, once again crossing his
arms over his chest, this time to keep himself from wrapping his
hands around Erland's throat, “perhaps the moment has come for us
to explain to Count Erland why he, of all King Louis's nobles, was
chosen for abduction.”

“A fine idea,” Royce said jovially. The smile
he cast upon Magnus and Lilianne offered no hint of the
disagreements amongst them. “Count Erland, thanks to your henchman,
Norbard, we are aware that you are one of King Louis's most
important agents. But you already know about Norbard's greed and
treachery, don't you?”

Erland said nothing, though he tensed. Magnus
could not help admiring the way in which Royce was playing with the
man, suggesting dire threats without actual, spoken intimidation,
allowing Erland's imagination to do Royce's menacing work for him.
Magnus listened with an impassive expression as Royce continued the
game, lying through his teeth with his next remarks.

“You will remain here, confined to these
rooms, until King Louis agrees to exchange you for a captured
English agent,” Royce informed him with a sweet reasonableness that
held just the faintest tinge of a sharp edge.

“What?” Erland appeared to be stunned by
Royce's words. “That’s not what you’ve been telling me. I
understood from the questions you've been asking that I was
abducted because of my knowledge of King Louis's future intentions
against the English.”

“I do assure you,” Royce went on, sounding
more like a regretful host than a jailor, “better men than you have
been housed here, some of them in greater comfort than you are
presently enjoying. If you care to reveal what you know of King
Louis's spying operations in England and Normandy, perhaps
something more pleasant can be arranged for you. A warming tapestry
for the wall, a pitcher of good wine with your dinner, an
occasional hot bath to ease the itch of the flea bites, a change of
clothing – you understand how the game is played.”

“An English agent, you said?” Erland assumed
an innocent expression. “I know of no captured English agents. Who
is the man?”

“Desmond of Ashendown,” Magnus said when
Royce's glance and raised brows designated him the man to state
what Erland already knew.

Erland's self-control was remarkable. He did
not so much as flick his eyes in Magnus's direction. Instead, he
stared at Royce for a long moment before he began to laugh.

“I don't see what's so funny,” Magnus
said.