FLAME OF DESIRE (36 page)

“He thought to marry the Lady Elizabeth, since Mary had spurned him, and set himself up beside her as king and queen. Lucky for Mary it was, that Bishop Gardiner wormed the details of the plot from him. They were prisoners in the Tower together, the bishop and Courtenay, but it appears that this time that foppish lord will reside there by himself,” said the young soldier.

“Cease your jabbering. He doesn’t need to be told about the plot.”

“Plot? What plot? I must know.” Somehow Richard had to convince this tattered group of soldiers of his innocence and get posthaste to London. The queen had need of his loyalty once again.

“What plot?” mimicked the older soldier, scowling down at Richard. “As if you weren’t in on it.” He walked up and down, his eyes raking over his prisoner. “Where were you headed before we caught you unawares? Not to Kent. ‘Tis said the Thomas Wyatt is to lead the revolt there. Not to Warwickshire. No, that is the territory laid out for the Duke of Suffolk. Is it that you intended to rouse the Londoners?”

“No! I seek audience with no one except my queen.” Richard sought to rise, but the booted foot of the brawny ruffian stopped him.

“Bloody heretic! May you all rot in hell. London is a good place for you. Damned reformers all.” The brawny soldier motioned to the older one.” Take him to my Lord Seton. He will know what to do with him. This looks to be the one he told us to watch for.”

“Seton? Seton has his hand in this?” Disgust mixed with anger ached in Richard’s belly. Why must he be met with the man’s treacherous interference constantly? His eyes darted back and forth for any sign of escape, but he was only one unarmed man against three soldiers.

“Don’t get any ideas, you bloody fool. We will cut you down if you but blink an eye,” said the brawny soldier as all three pointed their swords at him. “Get his horse.”

Richard’s hands were tied behind his back and he was pushed and shoved to where his horse awaited. It was a difficult task to mount the animal, and seeing his predicament, his captors at last flung him upon the horse’s back like a sack of wheat.

“Seton is my enemy,” Richard croaked. “He will not tell you the truth about me. Take me instead to the queen. Please, I beg you.”

Laughter met his words. “Seton is the enemy of all who would seek to harm our queen,” said the young soldier.

“Buffoons!” Richard cursed beneath his breath. “At least they take me in the right direction.” With the wind once again at his back, he set off along the London road.

In a few hours’ time the small band arrived at their destination and Richard was thrown into a small windowless cell-like room. Trussed up like a Christmas goose, helpless to fight, he had been delivered into the hands of the man he detested above all others.

“Forgive me for being so inhospitable,” came a mocking voice. “Perhaps a cup of wine….” Seton stood in the doorway, grinning.

“Go to hell, Seton.”

Seton waved his hands about, motioning for the youngest man to light a candle in one of the wall sconces, then motioned the soldiers to leave. Slamming the door shut, he turned the key in the lock. “I want to keep you safe until I see what is going to happen. I may have need of a scapegoat, and you will do nicely.”

“Scapegoat?”

Again a grin. “I am walking a tightrope for the time being. There are those who say that Mary’s days are numbered. Fool that she is, she insists upon her Spanish prince.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Why, you should see her. She kisses that paining of him that they sent her as if it were the prince himself. Think you then that
you
can sway her? For I know that is your mission, is it not?”

“Yes. She is a wise woman. She will listen to reason when she learns of the consequences of this union.” Richard tugged at his bonds, wishing that he could get loose and wipe that smile off Seton’s face.

“She is a shriveled-up virgin who sees the answers to her maidenly prayers. For all her acting the nun, I have no doubt that she is a woman who lusts for a man in her bed, the same as any other female. Time is running out on the queen. Already her looks, what little she might have had, are fading. So I have no desire to align myself with Mary, but neither do I want to find myself on tower Green with my head bowed to the axman were she to be victorious. Clever, no?”

“Does that mean that you are to remain neutral in this matter?” Richard eyed the man before him warily, wondering just what was in his mind.

“It means that I have men fighting on both sides. If the tide shifts to Wyatt’s supporters, I will be prepared. No matter which side wins, I will be with the victors.”

“You vile traitor! Bastard!”

Hugh Seton turned red with anger, his small beady eyes filled with hate. “Do not call me traitor, nor bastard. I will have none of your insults.”

“You cannot silence the truth.”

“Brave words for a prisoner. Beware lest I change my mind and kill you after all. You are not in a church this time, Morgan. I am not unarmed as I was when you stole my bride.” His hand brushed his sword.

“She was never yours to steal. You merely wanted to use her to hurt me.” He kept his eyes riveted on Seton, watching as the man paced back and forth, his hands folded across his chest.

Seton stopped his walking to stare again at Richard. “Make no mistake, she will be mine one day, or if she refuses me, then she will die.” He laughed, an evil sound, as if entertaining some private joke.

“What do you mean?” The fear that Seton had another sinister plan up his sleeve coiled in Richard’s stomach.

“You will see. You will see. I have a surprise planned for her which will most likely be arriving at your door in Norfolk. Let us hope that your lover will be amused….”

Richard fought uselessly against his captivity. “If you harm one hair on her head, so help me God I will see you in hell, Seton.” How in god’s name had he fallen so easily into this man’s trap? Now it seemed that Heather too was destined for some kind of villainy.

“You can struggle all you like. You will never be free. You are at my mercy.” Seton walked toward the door.

“Wait.” Seton turned around at the sound of Richard’s voice. “How did you know that I would be on that particular road at that time? Was I betrayed?”

Seton laughed. “You told me.”

“I told you? Absurd.”

Seton opened the door and stepped through, but said over his shoulder, “It was your letter to that imbecile Vickery. It was intercepted by one of my retainers. I thought it would not be long before you would seek to meddle again in court affairs. My patience was rewarded.” The door closed with a resounding bang.

Alone in the dimly lit room, Richard closed his eyes. He dared not think what the consequences would-be if he stayed in Seton’s grasp much longer.

“Heather.” What was the surprise Seton said awaited her?

Chapter Fifty

Heather shivered at the cold in the room. Winter was full upon them, with freezing, long nights and dark, clouded days. Pulling her chair closer to the fire, she looked down at the tapestry held in her hands and tried her best to concentrate once again upon her stitches. Richard had been gone over a week now and she had yet to receive any word from him. Why? He had promised that he would send her word as soon as he reached London.

“He is safe,” she whispered aloud. “I am merely being foolish and impatient. Of course the weather will slow him in his journey. He will send me word when he can.” She rose from her seat to throw another log on the fire, basking in the warmth and glow it gave as the fires consumed it.

“Shall I prepare us all a hot herbal drink?” a voice asked behind her, startling her. It was Undine. She was always coming up behind Heather as if she were one of the fairy people, quick to appear and disappear. The old white-haired woman was in charge of taking care of Edlyn now, and her soothing herbs and gentle gnarled hands were of great help. Only she and Heather could control the raging tantrums that so unnerved the household.

“Please do, Undine. The chill in the air seems much worse today. Perhaps because of the dampness.” Heather smiled at Undine, wondering what she would have done without her these past few days. The woman had come to the manor begging for shelter from a storm and Heather had not the heart to turn her away.

The old woman toddled away on her short legs, to return in an instant holding forth mugs of steaming aromatic liquid and Heather reached for the one farthest away.

“No. that one is for Edlyn,” the old woman said sharply, pulling it from Heather’s grasp. Her wrinkled face quickly recovered from its angry expression to turn again to a smile. “I put a sleeping potion in hers so that she will get her rest this midday.”

“A sleeping potion? Again? I do not think it wise to give her such a thing so frequently, lest she become dependent upon it to sleep.” For just a moment Heather had a twinge of misgiving about this woman, but it melted away quickly as Undine looked at her and smiled.

“It will do her no harm Believe me. I had twelve children and gave the potion to all of them with nary a sign of harm. I have seen others with that poor woman’s condition. Sleep is what heals them. Deep sleep. Trust me in this.”

“I will trust you, Undine.” Taking sips of her own drink, Heather felt the hot liquid seem to radiate heat through her entire body, until she noticed the chill of the room no longer. Again she thought of that day when she had first seen Undine in her tattered rags, her hand reaching out to implore shelter. It was not right that anyone should be so wanting while others enjoyed such comforts. Was it any wonder that Heather had offered the woman a permanent home at the manor?

She remembered Undine’s words to her: “I believe you will find me to be a
surprise
, my fair lady. I am useful for more things than you will ever imagine. You will see. You will see.”

And indeed Undine had proved to be most useful. She had nursed many of the servants when they had taken ill, her cooking was perfection, and she was a skillful storyteller. Heather wondered what Richard would think of the old woman.

Richard. Had she given him enough provisions? What if he found himself snowed in somewhere with out much to eat? The clip-clop of a horse’s hooves against the stones in the courtyard and the nickering of that same horse caused her elation.

“Richard! It is Richard!” she exclaimed, running to the door and throwing it open, expecting to find him waiting for her. Instead it was Stephen Vickery who dismounted from his horse and came to greet her.

“Damnable cold! It is days like this that make me wish I had been born in Venice. How I long for the warmth of the sun.” He looked about him. “Is Richard inside? I would think on a day like this he would be sitting before the fire with a mug of hot spiced cider.”

Heather looked at him in confusion. “Richard is not with you?” Her eyes looked down the road as if expecting any moment to see him riding over the crest of the hill. A joke, that was what they were playing on her, and it was not in the least amusing.

Stephen Vickery strode forward to place his hands on her shoulders. “It is freezing out here. Come, let us go in.” A feeling of foreboding crept along his spine as he sought to calm not only Heather but also himself.

“No! We must wait for Richard. Where is he?” Despite her protests, he led her inside the door and closed it behind him. The warmth of the room enfolded them like a cloak and he savored its comfort for just a brief moment. What a fool he had been to venture north at this time of year, but then, he had hoped to convince Richard to return with him. Perhaps both of them together could convince the queen to adhere to a few sensible measures in this question of the marriage. He had a few suggestions. Philip should be named after Mary on all official documents so that it would be Queen and King of England; no foreigners, no Spaniards should act as advisers on English affairs; and the military alliance between the two countries should be defensive only, so that England should not become involved in any Spanish hostilities against France. He was certain that Richard would agree with him. But where was Richard? He put this question in words, only to be met with Heather’s horrified stare.

“He was to meet you at the Cap and Crown. He sent you a message over a week ago. He himself has been gone a week and two days.”

“Gone? Message? I received no message, nor did I meet anyone on the road. It is most strange.”

Heather put her hand on her head to keep from fainting. She had been right to worry. Some inner sense must have told her that Richard was in danger, but she had refused to listen. She had not been foolish and impatient to feel apprehensive about not hearing from him.

“Something has happened!” The blood pounded in her brain, her arms and legs felt like sticks of wood, yet somehow she managed to think clearly and calmly. “We must leave at once. Together we will retrace the path Richard rode. I will bring several of the tenants with us to comb the area.”

“Leave? I just got here. Have mercy, woman, I am frozen stiff.” He sought to calm her. There had to be an explanation. They had merely missed each other along the way, that was all. The messenger was most likely still waiting at Stephen’s door, obstinate as they always were and eager to collect his gold coin.

“If you will not go with me, I will go alone.” Heather fled up the stairs to dress in her warmest clothing. She could not stay in this house another moment when there as a possibility that Richard’s life might be in danger.

Stephen Vickery followed after her, trying to change her mind. It was something he could not do. “You cannot travel about the countryside in the dead of winter. You will come to harm and Richard will have my neck.”

“I can and I will go. Do you think that I care for my own safety when Richard’s is in peril? Come with me, or stay. The decision is yours.” Frantically she dug through her clothes chests until she found the necessary woolen garments. “Well?”

Vickery shrugged his shoulders. What was to be done with a stubborn woman? The possibility that she might very well be right tugged at his consciousness. Women always seemed to have second sight in these things. “We will go together, though I want you to be witness that this was your idea and not mine. I do not want to bear the brunt of Richard’s anger when we find him!”