Onyx (5 page)

She glanced over her shoulder and then
back to him. “I dinna even ken who they are, but they look te be English.”

“There’s an old man with th
em that swears he saw ye years ago on the docks of Blackpool.”

“I travelled a lot wit’ ye
r faither. Anything is possible. Why does it matter?”

“I ken he’s lyin’ becooz
he also swears I was there too, yet I’ve never been on the docks o’ Blackpool.”

Fenella froze, then
played with the drink in her hand. “Aye. I’m sure he’s lyin’.”

“Is there somethin’ ye
’re no’ tellin’ me?” he asked.

When she didn’t an
swer, he placed his hand atop hers. “Are ye keepin’ somethin’ from me?” he asked again.

“Twenty years is a long time,” she said
. “People can be mistaken.”

Onyx pulled his hand away from her with a jolt.
“How did ye ken ’twas twenty years ago? I ne’er said how long ago the man said he saw ye.”

When she didn’t answer,
and instead got up and walked away, Onyx knew for certain there was something his mother was keeping from him. But before he could ask her about it, the little English entourage entered the pub, getting the attention of everyone there. The music stopped, and people spoke in hushed voices. Tension filled the air.

Onyx got that aching
sensation in his bones again, and it was never a good thing, as it always happened just before there was trouble. Aye, he had the feeling this was going to be a birthday he’d never forget, one way or another.

Chapter 2

Lady Loveday de Lacy entered the pub and looked around, seeing the Highlander she’d been talking to outside, now sitting across the room.

“That’s him, I tell you,” said the
dockman who called himself Twine. “Most of England knows the tales of the earl’s demon baby whose birth was responsible for the death of the man’s wife. Rumor on the docks is that the baby was buried at sea in a chest. But now I can see the devil has come back to life. And I’m willin’ ta bet that wench you’re searching for is here somewhere too. The woman I let get aboard a ship that day had a chest with a dead baby in it. And I also heard her say her name was Fenella. And she wore the plaid of The MacKeefes.”

“And why did you keep this a secret for so long?” grumbled the guard.

“I told the king’s men the day it happened, but they didn’t want to chase her into Scotland,” said the man. “They paid me to keep quiet so they wouldn’t have to go to the Highlands trying to find her. But when Lady Lovelle came asking questions after all these years, I knew I had to tell her.”

“You mean you knew it was another opportunity to make some money,” spat the guard.

“Give him another coin for his troubles and find us a table,” Lovelle told her guard, Weldon.

“But Lady Loveday
,” said Weldon under his breath. “We don’t need to pay the man anything else. We found who we’re looking for, so he’s of no further use to us.”

“Please don’t call me Loveday. You know I hate that name and have been called Lovell
e by everyone for years now, except for my mother. And just do what I say,” she ordered, noticing all eyes in the room were on them. “We haven’t actually found the woman yet, and we may still need him to identify her.”

This was a pub
occupied by mainly Scottish, and she knew the English were not really welcome here, and it was risky to be here at all. She could only hope that most the Scots in the bar tonight were Lowlanders, as they had a higher tolerance of the English than the Highlanders. Actually, the Highlanders were barbaric, and though she felt as nervous as a maiden on her wedding night, she wouldn’t show it.

W
eldon paid the man again, and Twine disappeared into the crowd looking for a drink. A table of Scots vacated their seats and quickly huddled together across the room, whispering and looking over their shoulders. The pub was very crowded, and she even noticed women and children inside. The place seemed well kept, but yet some of the occupants looked less than desirable, and she longed for the comfort of her castle and servants back home.

“I think the faster we get out of here the better, my lady,” said Weldon. “After all, it is New Year
’s Eve and these Scots have been drinking heavily. And you, a noblewoman, shouldn’t even be in here at all.”

“I agree,” she said, settling herself at the ta
ble with her men all around her. “But I can’t leave until I find what I came for. I may have never known my father, but I plan on finding his murderer and setting my mother’s mind at ease, even if it has taken me twenty years to do it.”

“My lady, you know as well as anyone that your mother’s mind has been slipping and h
as been very confused for a long time now. There is nothing you can do to help her.”

Lovell
e knew the man spoke the truth, but she just couldn’t give up hope. If she could only find what she was looking for, there may be a way to help her yet. With the information her mother had given her recently about a stolen object, she knew she’d found what she needed. She only hoped the woman who’d stolen it still had it and hadn’t sold it for coin.

“Y
ou also have a young son to care for,” the guard added. “If something happens to you, he’ll have no one to raise him.”

“Charles
is safe,” she said, speaking of her young son of seven years. “He is in Blackpool being fostered by the earl. That is what my husband, Hugh wanted, bless his soul.” She blessed herself more for show than anything, as she didn’t miss her elderly husband at all. She’d been married at the young age of four and ten years, and just a year later she had bore the baron his first and only child.

“Excuse me for saying, my lady, but your husband was nearly forty years your senior. You don’t have to put up pretense for me, as none of us liked the man, and I’m probably safe to say that you didn’t either.
After all, he died only a few short months ago, and yet you haven’t once worn black to mourn him.”

“You know I can’t see colors,” she reminded him. “For all I know, the gown I’m wearing is black.”

“Your handmaiden dresses you every day, my lady, and she can see colors, so I don’t think that excuse will work.”

“Then I’ll have to send my handmaiden to
the stocks when I return to Worcester for her insolence, won’t I?”

Lovell
e knew damned well she wasn’t wearing black. And while it was true she couldn’t see colors at nighttime, and only barely during the day, that wasn’t why she wasn’t in mourning. She never liked the old goat whom she’d been betrothed and married to, and that was really the only reason. And when he died in his sleep from naught more than age, she thanked God silently rather than to have to ever couple with the man again.

“No need to harm the young maiden,” said the guard. “As I don’t believe the man was worth mourning over anyway.”

“That is the late Baron of Worcestershire you’re speaking of, if I must remind you,” she said, with the expected behavior of a lady. “And if I also must remind you, you now answer only to me until the king finds me a new husband.”

Weldon settled himself next to her and motioned for a serving wench to bring wine. After the wench did so, he gave her a coin and sent her away.

“Of course, Baroness,” he answered. “But deciding to take this journey now wouldn’t by any chance be to escape the new husband the king decides to send you, does it?”

“I will abide
by any decision my king makes, and I’ll not have you saying anything differently.” She held the wooden cup up to her lips and took a sip of wine.

“Of course, my lady, please forgive me. It’s just that . . . ”

“No more about that. Now, we have a job to do. This woman named Fenella not only killed my father, but she stole something from my mother that day that was very precious and cannot be replaced. I am here now to collect it.”

“You mean the emerald
ring your father gave her.”

“No, not that, though
I plan on collecting that as well. What I’m speaking of is something much more valuable and also dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“What is it, my lady? You can tell me.”

“It is . . . a book,” she answered. “A very valuable book. And my mother probably wouldn’t have even told me about it had not her health been faltering quickly lately. I need to find and return this item to assure she does not die from an addled mind.”

“Forgiv
e me for speaking freely, but it almost sounds as if you think there is something that can actually cure an addlepated mind. There is no such thing, my lady.” The guard chuckled. “Unless you are looking for a witch’s book of spells or something of the sort.”

“How can you say that when you
, of all people, knew how religious my father was?”

“You are right. Please accept my apology and I will learn to hold my tongue.”

“Apology accepted,” she said, taking a sip of wine. Oh, if the man only knew how close he was to the truth. But no one would suspect anything of the sort once the item she was looking for came out of hiding. After all, her mother had seen to it that her secret had stayed hidden when she hired someone to write those potion spells and medicinal charms into a book of prayer and devotion – the Book of Hours.

But now, h
er answer lie with the man named Onyx, she was sure of it. Because even if she never found the book, this man being the demon they say he is, may just know a spell or two that would help to clear her mother’s muddled mind and bring her back to normal.

She pushed up from the table so quickly,
that her gloves slipped from her lap and fell to the soiled rushes of the floor.

“My lady, where are you going?” asked
Weldon, scooping them up in one motion, and standing at her side. Her other guards were on their feet as well.

“Sit back down and stay here,” she said, straightening out her gown. “I’m going to talk to the demon man.”

“Then, I’ll be at your side.” Weldon had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

She looked up and noticed the Scots all gathering around slowly. “Nay. And take your hand off your sword. We don’t want a bloody melee right here in the pub.
I’m just going to try to get some information from him. Don’t intervene unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand me?”

“Aye, of course
.” He raised his hand and motioned for the rest of the men to sit back down. He just leaned on the trestle table and crossed his arms but did not take a seat.

“
I know he’s keeping information from us. But just leave it to me, I’ll get it out of him,” she told him with a slight smile.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I saw the randy wench waiting for him, and know that he’s probably craving a pretty woman right now.” She pinched her cheeks for color, then reached up and removed her headpiece and put it on the table, and let her hair spill down over her shoulders. Then she tugged on the bodice of her gown to expose the tops of her breasts.

“Baroness,” said Weldon, his face looking flushed at seeing her this way, “what are you doing?”

“Don’t any of you mention this to anyone when we get home,” she warned her men, “or I’ll have your heads for it, I swear I will.”

S
he took a deep breath, then released it, and headed over to the man, figuring once he set eyes on a pretty woman, he’d be a blubbering idiot and confess everything. This wasn’t something she’d ever done before, but she figured she needed to drop her standards slightly and try to do something to entice him, as these barbaric Highlanders would never give information to a respectful, proper lady such as herself. And if anyone back at the castle found out she was strutting around like a strumpet, she would surely die of shame and embarrassment.

“Dagger, ye need te stop drinkin’,” warned Callum, “yer eyes are gettin’ thet crazy look te them. I think ye are feelin’ stressed again, and if what yer mathair said is true, than thet is no’ a guid thing at all.”

“I’m aggravated and angry,” he admitted.
“Me mathair is keeping things from me and I dinna ken why.”

“What do ye mean?” asked Callum.

“It disna matter,” he said, looking down to his empty cup and shaking his head. He never really confided in anyone with his problems, and wasn’t going to start tonight.

“Dinna
look now,” said Callum drying a glass with a rag, “but thet English lassie is headed right in yer direction.”

“Dagger,” Onyx heard from behind
him, and turned to see that the woman had followed him over to the drink board. He was surprised that her lackeys weren’t fastened to her elbow, and that she’d approached by herself.

“Only me
good friends call me thet,” he said, trying to get a last drop of whisky out of the glass. “So dinna call me Dagger again.”

“All right.
Onyx, then . . . I thought perhaps we could have a drink together.”

She sat dow
n next to him at the counter, and Onyx felt like this night was going from bad to worse. If only his birthday had been the way his friends had planned, he’d be in the stables bedding one of the Lowland triplets right now instead of trying to ward off a haughty English bitch. And the worst part was, he’d probably never have another chance with the triplets after not showing up for their little rendezvous. And lord knows, he wanted them badly.