SirenSong (33 page)

Suddenly Mauger began to laugh. If Elizabeth was sick, it
would bring not only Alys but William in all haste to Hurley, and that would
solve all his problems at once. Alys could be imprisoned and William killed.
Then Egbert could put on William’s clothing and ride his horse back onto
Marlowe lands to a spot where he had originally concealed the body, reclothe
the body, set the horse free… Yes, that would work.

Mauger had all the plans made by the time he rode into
Hurley keep. Unlike the times he had planned in Wales, however, he was not
filled with sunny optimism. Hope permitted him to keep his angry, frustrated
resentment chained, but it was there, seething under the surface. This would
not be sweet and easy as it would have been in Wales. Two murders and his
too-quick marriage to Alys so soon after his wife’s and her father’s death
would be bound to raise questions. Still, he would wait no longer.

In Hurley, Mauger dismounted, threw his reins to a groom and
made for the inner bailey and the great hall. Raymond would have to be dealt
with first, of course. He shouted for wine and Egbert. The servant was at his
elbow, even as the sound of his voice died away.

“William did not die,” Mauger snarled.

Egbert bobbed his head. “I know. Your lady returned only
yesterday from Marlowe where she nursed him during the worst of his sickness.”

Mauger stared at his man, speechless with rage for a minute.
So Elizabeth had helped foul his plans! So much the better. He need not regret
her loss. Bitch! Whore, in mind if not in body. He showed his teeth and Egbert
stiffened. His master had been very strange since that night at the abbey, but
Mauger’s eyes were not on his man and the servant relaxed. He did not, however,
fail to pay strict attention to the instructions Mauger was giving him. They
were interrupted briefly when Emma came tripping up carrying a cup of wine. He
snatched it from her and snarled that she should go tell Elizabeth to await him
in her chamber. Emma made the mistake of pouting. Often Mauger called it
adorable, and kissed her pursed lips. This time he hit her in the face so hard
he knocked her down. He did not even turn his head to watch her pick herself
up, but continued to tell Egbert how to arrange Raymond’s murder.

The voice was low and Emma did not hear much, but she heard
enough to deepen her fear of the man who owned her. Emma burned with resentment,
the helpless, bitter resentment of a child. Here she felt alone and imprisoned.
In a city Emma would know well enough how to find a new protector, but she had
no idea where the nearest city was or how to get there. Emma gave Mauger’s
message to Elizabeth. She did not dare hint at what she had heard, but because
of her sense of outrage she did find the courage to warn Elizabeth that Mauger
was in a foul temper.

The warning was scarcely necessary as the mark of his hand
showed plainly on Emma’s fair skin. Elizabeth knew that Mauger’s men had come
in well ahead of their master and guessed that he had stopped at Marlowe on his
way. There were so many things that could have enraged him. Elizabeth could not
guess which was the particular cause. All she desired at the moment was to be
able to master her own fear sufficiently to be able to think clearly.

As a first step, she fixed her attention on Emma, exclaiming
softly at the bruise on her cheek and offering to put some salve on it. Emma
looked over her shoulder fearfully and Elizabeth realized she was afraid Mauger
would come. Swallowing nervously, she went to her chest of medicinals and
brought the pot of salve, which she put in Emma’s hand.

“You are right,” she murmured. “Take it and go. Have one of
the maids put it on for you if you wish. There is no need for you to see him
again until he calls for you. Perhaps then he will not be angry any longer.”

Emma fled at once to find a corner in which to hide herself.
She did not even ask a maid to help her but smoothed the salve on her aching
cheek by touch, shuddering at the thought that Mauger might soon want to use
her. Never before had Emma felt revulsion for her sexual duties. She had always
been delighted at the pleasure she gave. She was totally undiscriminating and,
until now, had liked all men, regardless of age or appearance. Now there was an
exception, Mauger who had hurt her and rejected her.

Chapter Seventeen

When Mauger struck Emma, she had been a substitute for
Elizabeth. He had, in fact, intended to beat his wife soundly. However, by the
time he had finished planning Raymond’s murder, he had reconsidered that. There
must be no evidence that he had been on bad terms with Elizabeth so soon before
her death and his remarriage. In fact, there should be evidence of his loving
concern for her. Thus, Mauger walked quietly up the stairs and into Elizabeth’s
chamber, not quite closing the door behind him. She rose from her chair,
concealing her trembling as well as she could.

“Stand there,” Mauger said softly. “Do not turn to look at
me. Just stand still.”

It was so peculiar a thing for him to say, the soft voice so
wildly different from what she expected, that Elizabeth did exactly what she
was told. She stood perfectly still, her eyes wide with surprise but staring
directly ahead of her. Mauger smiled as he stepped around her and hit her hard
on the back of the head just behind the left ear. She crumpled forward without
a sound, but it would have made no difference if she had cried out because
Mauger let out a bellow designed to cover any cry she uttered.

“Elizabeth!” he shouted. “What ails you?” Then he rushed to
the door and flung it wide open, noting with satisfaction that several of the
maids were already running toward the room. “Come to your mistress,” he
called, then knelt beside Elizabeth and lifted her in his arms. “You stupid
sluts,” he snarled, “did you not see that your mistress was not well? She rose
from her chair and fell fainting right at my feet.”

“Tell Egbert to fetch a physician from Marlowe,” Mauger
ordered as he carried Elizabeth to her bed. “Where is her chief woman?” he
asked, and when Maud came forward he bade her undress her mistress. “My poor
lady,” Maud muttered sniffing back tears as she stripped off Elizabeth’s
clothes. “My poor lady. I saw all was not well with her when she came home. She
was worn white, so thin and trembling. Oh, my poor lady, my poor lady—but she
would not go to bed. She said she was well. Dearling, speak to me. Speak to
Maud, lovey.”

“Stop that hen-witted grizzling,” Mauger snapped, although
he could have kissed the woman. Not only had she accepted Elizabeth’s collapse
but she had provided a logical reason for it. Nonetheless, he had to get rid of
her before Elizabeth revived. “You are enough to make a healthy person sick.
Get out! I will watch by my wife.”

Maud was surprised by this mark of attention, but only
slightly. Although Elizabeth had never confided in her maid, as many women did,
Maud could not help knowing that Mauger did not seek his wife’s bed. On the
other hand, there had never been anything to indicate that they were on bad
terms. They never quarreled and Mauger seemed content to leave the management
of the estate in Elizabeth’s hands. He might prefer that stupid slut Emma abed,
but he knew he would be lost without the lady’s care. Perhaps, Maud thought, as
she withdrew, it was Elizabeth’s will that Mauger did
not
act as a
husband. She glanced back over her shoulder as she went out and saw a worried
frown on his face.

“Close the door,” he called after her. “I do not want
Elizabeth to be disturbed by the noise you make.” Maud was greatly relieved.
The lord would see the lady cared for. He was wrong to send her out. The lady
was used to her ways, but all would be well.

Mauger’s worried frown had been owing to his concern that
Maud would not shut the door before Elizabeth recovered her senses. It was a
near thing. As the latch snicked, Elizabeth lifted a wavering hand to her head
and moaned. He let her moan and toss herself into full consciousness, smiling
down at her nastily when recognition came into her face.

“Mauger,” she whispered.

“Did you expect William?” he asked. “You stupid slut. Did
you think I did not know?”

Elizabeth did not answer. She did not remember anything
after Emma’s warning, but she realized Mauger must have hit her because of the
pain in her head. It was a terrible shock to hear how badly she had
underestimated Mauger. Still, dizzy and confused as she was, she knew that she
dared not throw aside her cover. Whatever could be salvaged from this disaster
lay in sustaining Mauger’s belief that she was stupid.

Irritated by her blank stare, Mauger slapped her.

“Idiot!” he raged but softly so that no sound should pass
the locked door. “Did I not tell you that Alys and that hireling must be kept
apart? You have ruined everything. You knew I would forbid you to nurse that
sanctimonious fool—”

“But Mauger,” Elizabeth gasped, “you have always urged me to
be a good neighbor. When Mary was sick, you sent me to nurse her. How could I
guess—”

The protest earned her another slap. “You are stupid, but
not that stupid. I wanted Mary alive so that William could not marry a woman
who would give him a living son. You knew I intended to have Marlowe and for
that purpose William must be dead.”

“No!”

Mauger laughed. “You are that stupid! You really thought I
intended to wait until he died of old age.” Then he laughed harder. “Do you
mean you never guessed that your brothers’ untimely deaths were—”

With a gasp of horror, Elizabeth tried to launch herself at
her husband, but he pushed her back and held her, a hand over her nose and
mouth so that she could neither scream nor breathe. Red-splashed blackness swam
before her eyes, her struggles became feebler and feebler. At last, Mauger
slipped his hand away from her nose.

“Lie still,” he snarled, “or I will put a pillow over your
face and weep because you died before my eyes and I could do nothing.”

He would do it. For herself, at the moment, Elizabeth would
not have cared. The idea that she had served and coupled with the monster who
had arranged her brothers’ deaths and had for years planned William’s death was
incredibly revolting. She would have died willingly to blot out the knowledge
of her own deliberate blindness and arrogance. All those years when she had laughed
inside herself at Mauger’s dullness he had been laughing at her. What kept her
quiet and willing to obey was the knowledge that Mauger had not given up.
Perhaps if she were alive she could send some warning to Marlowe.

“Now listen and listen closely, Elizabeth. Your women and
therefore the whole keep believe that you suddenly fainted and I have sent for
a physician from Marlowe town. He will say you have a disease that could run
through the whole keep. I will permit your chief woman in here and you will
tell her this yourself. You will tell her that no one in the keep must come
near you, not she nor any other servant. I will ‘nurse’ you myself with Emma’s
help. Now, if you do not say exactly what I have told you, I will kill the
woman and tell the other women that she decided to sacrifice herself and nurse
you. Do you understand?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and nodded as well as she could.
There was no doubt in her mind that Mauger would do exactly as he said. Tears
trickled out under her closed lids. Mauger watched her suspiciously, then
removed his hand from her mouth. Elizabeth lay still, eyes closed. Very softly
Mauger stepped back, watching her. He did not care, really, if she cried out.
He had the ready excuse that she was out of her senses. His attention was
mainly to gauge her submissiveness.

Hours passed. Both Mauger and Elizabeth were completely
silent except for an infrequent soft sob of pain and fear from Elizabeth.
Neither was bored, however. Both minds were well occupied until Egbert returned
with the “physician”. The man wore the long, sober gown and furred cap of his
profession, but his face belied the grave robes. It was hard and seamed with
vice, the look in his eyes an insult to any woman they fixed upon. Elizabeth
shuddered with horror. There was no hope to be found in this man.

“Do you desire a ‘potion’ to rid yourself of her?” the
“physician” asked.

Mauger began to shake his head, and then stopped and nodded
instead. His negative response had been owing to an initial unwillingness to put
himself into the creature’s power by buying poison. Then he realized it was too
late to worry about that. The “physician” would have to die as soon as
Elizabeth did. That would raise no problems, and the poison might be useful. He
could have Emma administer it, perhaps. Everyone in the keep already disliked
the little whore. Should there be an investigation of Elizabeth’s death, it
would seem that a jealous mistress had poisoned her lover’s wife.

“And which disease do you desire she die of?” the man asked.

“Any complaint that would begin with a fainting fit, but I
do not intend that the lady should die,” Mauger said pointedly. “I only want to
keep her quiet for a little while. She will die only if she is not properly
obedient.”

“I see.” The brightness in the nasty eyes dimmed somewhat.
What had seemed a ripe case for blackmail now was much less promising.
Dissatisfaction made the cruel mouth even harder. “I will need to examine the
lady. Her form will tell me what disorders are most likely to attack her.”

“No!” Elizabeth cried.

Mauger laughed and pulled the cover off her, grabbing her
flailing arms. “Whore,” he hissed, “your modesty is a little late.”

Wild-eyed and gasping, Elizabeth lay still until the
“physician” bent over her. Then she struck out with her feet, catching him in
the chest and face with such force that he tottered backward and fell heavily.
Her satisfaction was short lived. Mauger struck her in the temple so hard that
blackness enveloped her again. This time she was not unconscious long, but when
her vision cleared only Mauger was in the room. Although her senses spun, she
clutched to her the remembrance that she had deprived Mauger of enjoying her
shame.