Her Noble Lords (3 page)

I release my legs and lift my hands over his bowed head. My attempt to stand unaided comes to naught as I slump to the planks below my feet. Piers crouches beside me.

“Here, wrap yourself in this, countess.” He covers me in a warm fur cloak which I recognise as one of Lady Eleanor’s finest.

“Keep still and cause us no trouble and you will not be harmed.” Ralf has taken up position on one of the cross benches, a sturdy oar in his hands. Another man, a soldier by the look of him, is seated alongside, ready to lend his efforts too. I surmise the third man now with us was left to attend the boat while the St. Johns scaled the walls of Wellesworth keep to seize Sir Ralf’s reluctant bride from her bed.

He has gone to a great deal of trouble, though much good it will do him. As soon as the gag is removed I will acquaint him with his error. Meanwhile, the prudent course seems to be to lie still and attract no more attention than I must.

The moat is not unduly wide, it takes no more than half a minute or so for the three men to pull us to the other side where more men await. There are horses too, uncannily silent in the predawn darkness. The boat is hauled onto the bank and Piers St. John springs over the bow to help secure it. Ralf bends to help me to my feet.

“You will remain bound, madam, but the gag will be removed once we are away from this place. Come, I will assist you.” He doesn’t wait for my response. Instead he takes a firm grip on my elbow and ushers me toward the front of the small boat. He hands me over to his brother, who lifts me over the side and settles me on dry land. My legs immediately crumple again.

“Steady, lass.” Piers catches me and cradles me in his arms, just as his brother did up in Lady Eleanor’s chamber. With just a couple of strides he has reached one of the horses, a massive dark grey beast, and tosses me up onto the saddle. He follows me up onto the animal straightaway, one solid arm securing me against his front as he uses the other hand to steer the mount away from the castle. Seconds later we plunge into the dense woodland surrounding Wellesworth.

I bounce painfully against the horn of the saddle, unable to secure a more comfortable position with my hands bound and the gag prevents me from pleading for assistance.

Piers slows his horse a little and leans forward to speak to me. “Turn around and sit astride, my lady. Tuck your feet under your cloak. I will not let you fall.” Despite my helplessness he seems to be aware of my plight and not insensitive to it. He would no doubt be considerably less concerned with my comfort were he to realise he is pampering a mere servant. Nevertheless, I accept his advice. Things will change soon enough, as soon as the truth is revealed.

After perhaps twenty minutes or so hard riding, our little group slows to a walk. I look around me to see that it has taken seven men to abduct me, including Ralf and Piers. The two brothers are riding alongside each other at the head of the troop.

“Any sign of pursuit?” Piers asks Ralf.

“None. I think we can remove the gag now. Keep her wrists bound though.”

Piers tugs the silk scarf from around my face and I spit out the fabric which has been in my mouth. My tongue feels dry and I long for a drink of cool water. Wordlessly Ralf produces a small leather pouch from his saddle and hands it to me.

“Here, take a few sips. It will feel better.”

Grateful, I clutch the pouch between my bound hands and do as he tells me, then I offer the pouch back.

This is it. Now I am able to tell them what I have needed to say all along. I am not Lady Eleanor Marwood. I open my mouth to do so and the words freeze on my lips.

As soon as they know, what will happen next? I am of no value or importance to them. Certainly, they will have no reason to take me to their camp, nor to deliver the spanking they mentioned, which is surely a good thing. And Sir Ralf will most certainly abandon any notion of making me his bride.

During the time I spent at Egremont I do not recall either of the brothers earning a reputation for cruelty or vindictiveness. Once they appreciate their mistake they will most likely allow me to go free, perhaps even drop me off in the nearest village. I will be able to make my way back to Wellesworth and hopefully Lady Eleanor will accept my explanation for her missing items. I might even be allowed to return them to her since the brothers’ motive for trespassing in her castle was most certainly not robbery. Encouraged by my analysis I swallow hard, stiffen my spine, and make my announcement.

“There has been a misunderstanding. I am not the lady you are seeking.”

“I beg your pardon. Did you say something, madam?” Ralf manoeuvres his mount closer.

“I am not Lady Eleanor.” There, it is out.

He regards me for several moments, his gaze assessing. At last he speaks. “I see. Yet still you were to be found sleeping in her bed, decked out in her finest silks, scented with her delicate perfumes. And you expect us to believe you are not she? I suggest you relinquish this attempt at deception, my lady. It ill becomes you.”

I stare at him, open-mouthed. It never occurred to me I would not be believed. “But, it is true. I am Lady Eleanor’s maid. My name is Linnet Routh.”

“And lady’s maids sleep in featherbeds at Wellesworth castle, I suppose? You will find we are less grand at Egremont, I fear.” His tone is mocking, yet carries a note of irritation.

“Please, you must believe me. Lady Eleanor was—elsewhere—this evening and she instructed me to take her place in her chamber. I understand why it appears as it does but truly my lord, I am not she.”

“Elsewhere?” Piers joins in the exchange.

“Yes. She is…” I hesitate, wondering whether to tell the entire truth or not. I opt for a version of it. “She had cause to inspect our store of weapons and the task took her longer than she must have anticipated.”

“Even if that story were not false, which I am convinced it is, it would not account for the fine quality of your rather delightful attire, my lady, nor your enticing aroma. Lavender, is it?”

I curse my liberal use of my mistress’ oils and soaps as I bathed earlier. “I, she allows me to…” I fall silent. The account sounds farfetched even to me and I happen to know it is true.

Ralf leans over to take my chin in his hand. He turns my head so I face him, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Unless you want to be gagged until we reach Egremont, I suggest you desist from this course at once. I will not abide lies, my lady, as you will soon learn.”

“But—”

“Be silent, madam, or I will silence you.”

I stare at his stern visage and stifle any further attempt to explain.

The next two hours pass in relative quiet. My own lack of conversation is born of sheer terror. I had been so sure they would release me. The only shred of comfort I can find in all this is the certainty that the truth will emerge soon enough. Perhaps then…

But what will happen to me in the meantime?

“My lady, answer me if you please.” Piers taps the back of my hand, the touch firm though not hard enough to hurt me.

“Sir? I’m sorry… what?”

“I said, do you need a moment’s privacy before we reach the camp? There will be none to be had once we are there.”

“We are near, then?”

“Perhaps ten minutes more. You may take a moment in yonder bushes though, if you need it.”

“I, yes. Thank you.” My mind races. This could be a chance to escape. It might be my only chance.

“You are woefully transparent, my lady.” Again Ralf draws near. “If you so much as contemplate making a run for it you will be caught, stripped, and given twelve strokes with the switch for your trouble. Do I make myself clear?”

I gape at him. I am no stranger to a switching, usually at the hands of my volatile mistress, though never more than three or four strokes. Sir Ralf is considerably stronger than she is. A beating from him will hurt. I am not convinced I would survive it.

He quirks his lip. “I see that I do. Your choice, my lady.”

“I… I will not try to escape. You have my word.”

“Aye and we know what that is worth, given the fantasy you wove earlier.”

I do not attempt to reiterate my case since it is clear my word alone will not suffice. “I am sorry, my lord. I swear, I will not cause any difficulties.”

Piers reins the horse to a stop and assists me to the ground. “You have five minutes. You will answer me each time I call out to you. Yes?”

“Yes, my lord. Would you untie my hands please, so that I may—”

“You will manage. Unless you prefer one of us to accompany you.”

I shake my head and start to make my unsteady way across the uneven forest floor. Dead twigs, leaves, heaven only knows what tiny woodland creatures crunch beneath my bare feet. I stumble, almost losing my footing.

“Would you like me to carry you?” Ralf’s mocking tone reaches me.

I turn, shake my head, and manage to make it to the thicket of bushes without further mishap. A few minutes later and following considerable awkwardness as I fumble with my borrowed clothing, I am once more on horseback, this time with Ralf. Piers has proceeded ahead of us.

“What…? What will happen to me once we reach your encampment?” I dread the answer but feel compelled to ask.

“You will have a few hours in which to rest, my lady. Our wedding will take place on the morrow.”

“What? No, you cannot—”

“Ah, but I can, Lady Eleanor. We are betrothed, the contracts signed and sealed. The marriage ceremony will take place when I will it. The priest will perform the service early in the morning, then we leave at once for Egremont.”

“But, I told you I am not she. Your bride-to-be is still at Wellesworth. If you would just return there, my lord, you may discuss this with her. I am sure you will arrive at some mutually agreeable solution.” I am convinced of no such thing in truth but the matter is between my mistress and Sir Ralf. It does not concern me.

His arms stiffen around me. “You persist in spouting this nonsense then? Shall I gag you once more?”

My heart sinks. I shake my head, afraid that if I attempt to speak again he will carry out his threat.

Seemingly satisfied with my silence, Sir Ralf arranges the cloak around me and tucks it under my bare feet. His touch is gentle enough, despite his harsh words.

“Do not be afraid, my lady. We have got off to a bad start, you and I and I regret the necessity for that. But be assured I will not hurt you, nor will you be mistreated as my wife. Once you accept that your future lies at Egremont, with me, I daresay you will discover the situation is not without its compensations.” His tone is softer now, as though he seeks to cajole me into acquiescence. Would that it were so simple.

His words of encouragement do, though, bolster my resolve to at least make one more attempt to resolve this.

“My lord, your actions are extreme. Rather than stealing into the castle and abducting the lady of the keep, might you not have entered Wellesworth by the front portal? Lady Eleanor can be difficult, I do know that, but you could have stated your objections to her actions, perhaps gained some recompense for the broken betrothal.”

“You consider me an unreasonable man, my lady?”

I start to deny the suggestion, but the words seem caught in my throat. Reasonable lords do not scale sheer walls and snatch defenceless women from their beds.

He gives a low chuckle. “I can see how you might have arrived at such a conclusion, my lady, and I would sympathise were our betrothal not a matter of some considerable importance to me. Your brother is my friend, and a marriage between our families is a dear wish of his. I confess, too, that the alliance will do my own fortunes no harm, though that is not my primary concern. I am approaching thirty years of age, and Egremont requires an heir. Whether I provide that or my brother does is of little consequence, but we need to shift on the matter.

“I have heard much on your character, my lady, both from your brother and your late husband. I harbour no illusions regarding your stubborn nature, and I hold out little hope of being able to convince you of the error of your ways by the persuasive power of my tongue alone. Neither do you seem inclined to be bound either by your contract or your brother’s word. I have no desire to engage in protracted negotiations with you, and in any case would find that an impractical course given the distance between Wellesworth and Egremont. My course may seem extreme to you, but it is expedient and effective. The matter is settled, or will be soon.”

I fear he is gravely mistaken, but there is clearly no merit in pointing that out again. He is set, at least for now, on this imprudent plan and I am caught up in the middle of it.

A short while later we emerge into a clearing where several makeshift tents have been erected. The shelters are made of hides or blankets slung across the boughs of trees or simple frames crafted from hewn branches. None of them appear to offer privacy or full protection from inclement weather. I am glad of the relatively mild night and of the brothers’ consideration in allowing me the comfort of the thicket a couple of miles back.

Ralf reins the horse to a stop and hands me down to the ground where Piers is approaching us. Ralf dismounts too and passes the reins to one of the soldiers who leads the horse off. I find myself dwarfed by the two men towering over me. This is the second time I have stood before the pair of them and I find myself even more achingly aware of my state of undress, my bare feet, my hair now escaping from the loose braid I fashioned so long ago. I step back, pulling the cloak around me as though that would fend them off were they to decide otherwise.

Ralf greets his brother with a terse nod. “Is everything prepared?”

“Of course.”

“This way then, my lady.” My would-be bridegroom gestures for me to accompany him. I see no alternative but to comply so I follow him between several tents toward the centre of the camp. There a slightly larger shelter awaits, open only at one end where a small but very welcome fire has been lit.

“Not the finest of accommodations but the best we can contrive for now, my lady. Please make yourself as comfortable as you can. You will not be disturbed.” He turns to leave me, then pauses. “The bag containing your possessions which we collected from your chamber is within. You will no doubt wish to select a fine dress for tomorrow. Please be ready to proceed soon after first light.” With that final, curt instruction he is gone, striding back across the flattened grass toward where his brother is conferring with two guards.