Suzanne Robinson (25 page)

Oriel felt as if she were in a dream. She could hardly credit what she was seeing. Blade held out the parchment, and one of the men took it The man brought it to Leslie and held it open while his master glanced at it Leslie smiled, then turned back to Blade.

“Take him.”

“Leslie, stop this,” Oriel said.

Two of the men approached, but Blade’s hand went to his sword, and they stopped.

“Come, Fitzstephen. You have no choice.” Leslie put the dagger to Oriel’s throat.

“Leslie, you can’t do this.” She tried to twist in his arms, but he grabbed her hair and yanked her back so that her neck was exposed.

“I’m sorry, coz, but my need is great, and you’re interfering.”

Fighting tears of pain, Oriel went still as she felt the point of the dagger nick her skin.

“Don’t,” Blade said.

He held his arms away from his body. One of the men snatched his sword and dagger. Two more grabbed him and bound his hands behind his back. Once Blade
was tied, Leslie released Oriel. She went to Blade and rounded on her cousin.

“Greedy traitorous whoreson.”

Leslie clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Now coz, if you had been deprived as I, you would have done the same. Mayhap if Grandfather had left me a fortune as he did you, I wouldn’t have had to kill Uncle Thomas.”

Nausea clogged her throat. She looked to Blade, who met her gaze with that expression of sadness she had seen before.

“You guessed?” she asked.

“Yes,
chère
. After you said Nell drowned in the well. I think she found your dear cousin in Uncle Thomas’s chambers, searching for the journal.”

Leslie shrugged. “She threatened to tell you what I was doing if I didn’t reward her. I was luring her with promises of a tumble in the stables when you interrupted us. But enough of this chatter.”

“You killed Uncle Thomas!”

Oriel flung herself at Leslie, clawing at his eyes and kicking Blade tried to go to her, but he was caught and held by two of the men. She heard him shouting, but so great was her rage that she continued to claw and kick at Leslie until another man dragged her off him. Leslie shoved her away and put the back of his hand to a long red slash on his cheek. Her captor held her by both arms so that she couldn’t move.

“God’s arse, coz, you’re a tempest. No wonder Fitzstephen is as addled as a randy coxswain in a London brothel.”

Oriel spat at him, but he dodged and laughed at her, tucking the confession into his doublet. “I do regret having to toss old Tom over the stair rail, but he wouldn’t comply with my request that he tell me the truth about Anne Boleyn. He admitted he’d set down in writing what he knew, but he wouldn’t hand over his journal. I tried one last time to convince him. I feigned a
trip to drink and carouse and then returned after everyone was abed. The old fool wouldn’t give me what I needed, and finally threatened to tell the family of my endeavors.” Leslie threw out his hands and sighed. “What was I to do?”

“Kill an old man, naturally,” said Blade.

“How astute of you to agree,” Leslie said. He turned to one of his men. “Samuel, take them into the hills to Jack Midnight. Tell him to finish his work this time.”

“I should have guessed,” Blade said, and began to curse fluently.

“Leslie!” Trapped by the man who held her, Oriel was too furious and too heartsick to do more than shout.

Leslie turned to her. She saw regret flicker across his face and then vanish. “I wouldn’t have had to embark upon these adventures if it hadn’t been for you, coz. But you got the riches I should have had—Grandfather’s and Uncle Thomas’s. Do you know how I felt seeing all that wealth go to a mere woman?”

“I thought you were fond of me,” she said. “I never meant you harm, and I would have shared if you had asked. Don’t you care at all?”

Leslie came to her and patted her cheek. “Sorry, coz, but not enough to die a traitor’s death for you. If it’s of comfort, I’ll name my first girl child after you.”

Blade called out to him as he left. “Richmond.”

Leslie turned and glanced at Blade.

“The queen would pay you far more for that document than will the Cardinal of Lorraine.”

“So,” Leslie said “You know about His Eminence.”

“She would pay you in gold, and mayhap reward you with an earldom.”

Leslie laughed and bowed to Blade. “A good try, Fitzstephen, but I’m sure our queen would be far more likely to clap me in the Tower and lop my head off than
reward me. God give you good rest.” He waved at them merrily and vanished.

She shouted after him. “Leslie, you come back here.”

Her answer was the slam of a door at the back of the lodge. The man holding her squeezed her in his arms, and she cried out. Blade tried to jump at him, but his captors held him fast.

“Here,” Samuel growled. “None of that.”

Blade jerked at the leather cords that bound his wrists. “If you harm her, I’ll cut your heart out and feed it to the pigs.”

One of his captors kicked him, and his leg folded. “Let’s kill them now. Less trouble.”

“You addlepated sod, he wanted them taken to Midnight so’s they wouldn’t be found on his land. They’re supposed to be attacked by highwaymen.”

“Wait,” she said “I’ll pay you more than my cousin is. I have caskets full of jewels.”

She couldn’t understand why they all laughed.

“Don’t bother,” Blade said as he got to his feet again. “If they’re Jack Midnight’s men, no bribe will touch them.”

“And how do you know so much about Midnight?” Samuel asked.

“Marry, sirrah, because when I was a youth I served him.”

Samuel scoffed, and the other three men guffawed and began hauling Blade and Oriel out of the lodge.

“Served Jack Midnight,” said Samuel as Blade was hauled past him. “That’s a jolly tale, that is.”

“Mayhap you’ve heard of me. I am called Blade.”

The laughter stopped abruptly, and Oriel looked from one dirty face to the other. An uneasiness stole over their features, and Samuel appeared to examine Blade minutely.

“You’re lying, you,” Samuel said.

“I only thought to tell you so you won’t kill us in the hills before we reach Midnight. He’d be—annoyed.”

“Hold him,” Samuel said, and Blade’s captors tightened their grip on him.

Samuel ran his hands over Blade’s body. He touched the sleeve of his doublet and stopped. Tearing at it, he withdrew a slim dagger He found a knife strapped to the small of Blade’s back, and one in each of his boots.

Oriel joined the others in staring at him. He smiled and shrugged.

“You would have searched me before you put me on a horse.”

“Yes,” Samuel said.

The complaining thief, who held Oriel, spoke up again. “Now can we kill them? You saw what he’s like.”

“Sod you, Johnny If he’s this Blade, Jack Midnight would roast us alive if we didn’t bring him back. Get on with you.”

Johnny released Oriel, only to grab her by the arm and drag her out of the lodge. She looked over her shoulder at Blade, who was being hauled out behind her. He’d said he’d once been a thief, but he’d never told her about it. The ruffian called Johnny yanked at her arm, and she stumbled, bumping into her own mare. She was plunked onto the horse while Blade was shoved onto his. He’d been blindfolded, and his hands retied in front of him so he could remain upright. Samuel took the reins of his horse, while Johnny controlled hers.

She wasn’t bound or blindfolded. It seemed the highwaymen had a low opinion of her ability to thwart their designs. The two remaining thieves flanked Blade, confirming her suspicions. Samuel kicked his horse and set off, leading Blade. She and Johnny followed at the rear.

As they galloped toward the hills to the east, Oriel grabbed her horse’s mane. Low clouds had rolled in while they were inside the lodge. They hugged the tops of the steep hills, heavy and blue-grey with rain. At the
horizon they darkened almost to purple and obscured another line of hills. It was all she could do at first to keep herself on the mare, so fast did they ride. They climbed a spiny hillock and scrambled down the other side, skirting the lake and surrounding mires that lay below. Once Blade nearly toppled from his horse when the stallion stumbled on the rocky ground, but he was quick to clutch at his mount with his arms and legs.

She still wore her cloak, and she was grateful for it, for as the sun vanished beneath the clouds, wind whipped up and cut at her cheeks. Its bite woke her from the fog of confusion into which she’d sunk after Leslie had abandoned them. She must do something. Blade couldn’t, and she realized he was trusting to his old affiliation with Midnight to save them. She wouldn’t. It was beyond her imagining that she could trust the benevolence of a highwayman, especially one who consorted with Leslie.

Therefore she must try to escape, thus offering Blade a chance to elude his captors. She was a good rider. After all, what difference did it make if she died now or later, at the hands of Jack Midnight?

Assuring herself that Johnny was busy marking the way up a nearly vertical slope, she shifted in her saddle, bringing her leg more securely against her sidesaddle. Most probably she was going to break her neck.

She watched Johnny. Her mare had been climbing reluctantly behind. Suddenly the horse tossed her head as Johnny yanked too hard on the reins. Oriel lurched forward, grasped the leather straps in both hands, and yanked hard. As she pulled, Johnny’s arm jerked, and he fell backward. His feet shot up and out of the stirrups, and he toppled to the ground with a yelp.

Oriel gathered the reins and tugged her mare’s head to one side. The horse spun around. Before Samuel and the others could gather their wits, she had kicked her horse and started back down the hill at a run. She heard shouts, but didn’t dare look back.

Clinging to her mare, she watched the jolting ground in front of her. The field below rose up, and she and her horse landed on it with a jar. Once on level ground, she risked a look behind her in time to see Blade’s leg shoot out and jab Samuel in the stomach. Johnny and another of the thieves scrambled down the hill toward her.

She kicked her horse and was soon galloping down the dale, swiping at the mare’s flanks with her reins. A gully loomed ahead. She felt the mare gather her strength. Forelegs lifted as haunches sprang, and together they sailed over the obstacle. She rounded the base of another hill, and came up against the steep side of a line of hills.

Behind her she could hear the rumble of hooves. With no choice, she began to climb the hill. If she could reach the razorlike top, she might be able to scramble down the other side ahead of her pursuers. Again she clung to her mare, but this time, the horse stumbled and balked. She wasted precious moments calming the horse, and by the time she reached the summit, Johnny was close behind.

She heard him cursing, and turned to see him reach out for her. She sliced at his face with her reins. He screamed, covering his eyes. She was over the hilltop as the second man passed Johnny. She careened down the slope, heedless of the dark and glassy mountain lake at its base.

A hand clamped onto her arm. She bent and fastened her teeth on it. The man yelped and shook her off, only to grab her reins. The mare swerved, then whinnied and reared, and Oriel sailed backward into the air.

She slammed into the ground on her back, and her head banged against a tuft of grass. The air rushed out of her body. Stunned, she lay helpless as Johnny galloped up and sprang down from his horse.

“Bleeding highborn bitch.”

Head swimming, barely able to hear, she felt
Johnny’s hands fasten on the neck of her gown. He began to shake her like a wet puppy, and her head wobbled. Without warning the world filled with loud indistinguishable noises. When Johnny dropped her she collapsed, closing her eyes to block the sight of spinning ground and blurred figures.

Moments later she heard the singing of steel sliding against steel. A man screamed. She tried to lift herself up on her elbows, but she only succeeded in raising her head. Two legs straddled her.

Her blurred glance took in soft leather boots and long, muscled legs encased in black hose. A sword whirled and made an arc in the air. She heard a chime as sword clashed with sword. Someone grunted. The legs flexed, and the body above her bent forward and shoved at another man. There was a thud. She watched a bloody sword withdraw from the body of the man, then drop to the ground. The legs straddling her vanished.

She tried to turn over and get to her feet, but the effort was beyond her. Suddenly, strong arms surrounded her. She felt her body being lifted gently. She was propped against a muscled thigh.

“Chère?”

“Oh, good.” She licked her lips and opened her eyes to peer into dark grey eyes. “I feared you might be Johnny.”

“Are you well? Can you move your arms and legs?”

“Did you kill them?”

“Answer me, damn your interfering little self.”

She wriggled her feet and moved her arms. “Everything seems to be attached.” She groaned and sat up with his help. “My head.”

“You’re fortunate not to have broken your neck.”

She was swept up into the air and hugged to Blade’s chest. She squealed in protest, having had enough of sailing through the air. He lowered her feet to the ground, but kept her in his arms. She clutched at his doublet and tried to meld herself to his body. Wrapping
his arms tighter around her, he lowered his mouth to hers. He seemed determined to devour her, sucking and probing with his tongue until she mumbled against his lips. When he lifted his mouth, she gasped for air.

At last she opened her eyes, and met his gaze. She caught her breath, and a tremor of apprehension went through her. She had never seen him more furious. He looked at her as if she were a stranger. His eyes held the chill of a sword thrust into snow. He released her and let his gaze travel the length of her body.

“By God, mistress, instead of kissing, you deserve a good whipping. You take too much upon yourself. You should have trusted to my judgment and waited for me to give you deliverance. Did you not understand that I know Jack Midnight?”

This was her reward for saving them. Oriel’s fear burned away in the flames of her anger.