The Everlasting Covenant (56 page)

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Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: The Everlasting Covenant
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But if she told her sons the truth, that they were both of Dylan

s blood, how would it affect their lives? Sloan had once admired Dylan, and Gage hungered for a father

s love. But, bastards must make their own way

adulteresses lived at the mercy of their betters. Dylan was too far away, in too much danger, to help her now. And following her admission, would Clifton kill her? Would he pursue Dylan alone, out of jealousy? She had long since ceased to know what her husband really wanted.

She was unsure what to do about Sloan, but Gage was too young to be a part of this, too young to hear the truth while still living in Clifton

s house, too young to go with Clifton in
pursuit of Dylan. She would have to spirit him away somehow. She could wait no longer.


My lady,

Sir Gravis said from behind her. She turned im
patiently to see what he wanted.

The leather goods, my lady. Have a look.

She jerked her eyes to that direction, both annoyed and confused. A man in a wide-brimmed hat was showing his wares to village women, while behind him the rest of his group was trying to put order back into their modest entourage. She checked eyes with Gravis. She did not understand, but lifted her skirts to walk swiftly toward the cart. The village women made room for her, retreating from the cart slightly. The man slowly lifted his eyes, his wide-brimmed hat rising. Dylan! His eyes caused her heart to lurch in an excited and terrified spasm. How many times had those same eyes glittered from under a peasant

s hat, from behind the trunk of a tree, from a dark corridor? She looked slowly in the direction of Clifton

s departure, but saw only the dust from the knights

horses. Still, she could not speak to him, for she did not know for certain who could be trusted. A word whispered in Clifton

s ear by a village wench might be enough to tip the cart against her.


What do you recommend, sir?

she asked.

His eyes sparkled. His lips parted briefly in a dazzling smile that was quick, and quickly gone.


This purse of doe

s hide should please her ladyship,

he said quietly.

She shifted her eyes in the direction of the rest of his ragged group.

What does your family require of Ayliffe?

she asked.


Only silver, my lady, if our goods please you
.
We will travel on to Huntingdon to buy seed. We farm near Huntingdon.

A farm near Huntingdon,
she thought frantically. She had heard that Dylan traveled fearlessly in Richard

s own country, stirring up trouble, roundin
g up rebels. He would be in Hun
tingdon.


Will you leave by the afternoon light?

she asked, her voice quiet but courteous.


Aye, my lady. We do not look as fleet as we are.

Then, in a whisper,

Send him to me. ..
. Anne!

She picked up the doeskin pouch and noted that there was something inside.

How much, then?

He shrugged.

Whatever you deem as fair, my lady.

She took a silver from her own pouch and laid it in his hand. Her fingers wanted to linger and she paused over his palm for a long moment. She bit her lip in indecision, then softly,

Deirdre?

Another fleeting smile was his answer, and quickly he dropped his gaze to look into his hand, as if examining the coin.

This will do. My thanks, my lady. Visit Huntingdon yourself one day s
oon –
a good city, certes!


Perhaps one day, but I cannot soon. I await the return of my eldest son. But the best of luck to you in trade.


You are generous, my lady. Long life to you.

He bowed away from her, keeping his eyes respectfully downcast.

The temptation was to linger, watch him for a while, or just remain near enough to assure herself that he was alive and well. She knew better than to indulge and she spun away, resuming her brisk walk toward the hall.
Will this never end?
she asked herself. The sound of his whispering voice, his eyes, his mere presence filled her with both hope and doom. She could find a way to send Gage to him, but when could she finally go with him, give up the lying and the penalties of loving him? Would she ever be free to escape to him? So intent was she with these deep thoughts, she nearly ran full speed into Sir Gravis

s broad chest. She looked around the hall almost fearfully before whis
pering to her vassal.

How did you know?


One among them was not a peasant, although he kept his bearing low. There are whisperings, madam. Some of us re
member days long past, other secret men, from the time of Warwick

s short reign.


What do my people think they know?

she asked. She had divulged nothing of a personal nature to Gravis, but only asked him for his help, when and if she needed it.

The large knight only shrugged in reply.

People are fond of guessing. I will only say that
I
never thought you were smitten
with Sir Cliff,
I thought you loved the old lord. We all knew, though, that the knight wanted you. In your presence he was a chivalrous knight
--
but among his own kind his more selfish passions were known.
I heard the old man urge you to the leather monger

s cart. And?


Whom do I trust? If you betray me, it is surely over,

she said uncertainly, knowing she had no choice now. She did not want to doubt Gravis, but then she had doubted no one before today.

Will you take my son to Huntingdon, Sir Gravis? By moonlight? In secret?


You have but to ask it of me, my lady.

 

***

 

Gage was more than a little reluctant to leave her, especially without any explanation. But the explaining would have to be done by another. And sending him away by night, with only Gravis to ride with him, to be left with a band of rebels, was the hardest thing she had ever done, although Gage was a large, healthy young man. She knew that henceforth he would ride with his natural father, on whose head there was a handsome reward.

In her doeskin pouch there was a crude coastal map. Only four cities were lettered, and Anne did not know how to read the directions. She guessed at the location shown by dotted lines, no doubt meant to be travel lines, but she nearly wept for all the good it would do her. She did not understand what it meant, where it was, or what Dylan intended her to do with it. Was this where he would take their son?

Equally terrified of Dylan venturing back to Ayliffe for any reason, she did not mention the map or her lack of understanding to anyone. She sent Gage off with simple instructions.

Say only that I await my eldest son,

she told him.

And trust me, my love, that I send you to the best possible place.

Gravis returned to Ayliffe alone, passing the word to her secretly that he had left Gage in the grateful hands of the nameless leathermonger. She was not certain whether or not
Gravis knew who Dylan was, for these things were better left unspoken.


The man told me to help you with the drawing, my lady. I know the rou
te. It is a safe house for you –
one Clifton will never find.

Anne smiled gratefully at Gravis.

You have been here a long time. Sometimes, I forget that.

She took the doeskin pouch from her belt and passed it to Gravis.

Do you think it will ever be possible to leave here?

she asked him.

He smiled at her.

Before today I thought it more possible to leave than to have a place to go.


And do you think you can take me there, when it is safe?


If God spares us from Sir Cliff, my lady. I say go now, while he is away.


Nay,

she said solemnly.

There is one more son. None of mine
has ever been favored –
no one has ever been neglected.


Dangerous work, this,

he grumbled.

But ... I
cannot work for Sir Clifton ..
. and I cannot pledge to King Richard. Whom I will finally pledge to, I can only guess.


Will you stand fast by me?


Yea, I do. You were steadfast in loyalty to the only noble I ever knew who wanted good for his vassals. This place cannot endure under Sir Cliff or
Brainard. This I do for you ..
. and Ayliffe.

Her eyes misted at the memory. She touched Sir Gravis

s arm.

I
did the best I could,

she whispered.

I am sorry it was not good enough.


Your best was better than that of many others, my lady. Do not weaken now.

She strained her eyes each day for the sight of Clifton

s re
turning troop, quizzed each traveler that passed through their gates about the happenings in London and around the country, and prayed earnestly to be delivered through this terrifying time. It was the last week in May when the banner approached and Clifton was home. With him, Sloan.

The reunion was strained, for Clifton let it be known instantly that his plans had grown while he was on the road to London.

When Sloan crossed the channel from Calais, Clifton met him and took him to Westminster to wait upon King Richard. Sloan talked excitedly about his visit with the king, about his pledged arms to the cause to wipe out rebels, for Clifton had had Sloan

s ear to himself for days. And Sloan was taken with the troubled young king and his serious household company of courtiers.

As she listened to Sloan, even though she feared she had lost him, she could not help but study him with her eyes. He was fully a man now. At four and twenty he was handsome and tall. He had mentioned no woman yet and had no plans to marry. He had traveled with a few English nobles into France, partaking of small battles here and there, securing some prizes of which he was quite proud. Now, home in England, he was eager to make his mark, build his wealth and reputation. She almost smi
led, for he was rather pompous –
a typical, immortal young knight. She wondered what principles really drove him. She wondered if the virtues she had taught him of honor, honesty, and compassion were lost to his youth, or if those qualities would rise in him again.

Oh
Dylan, he is strong and able, and ours. Yet we do not know which way the win
ds of fate will blow him. Will h
e be your son or your slayer?


You have been well tutored about these villains who would snatch the crown,

she said.

What of Brainard, then?


Brainard,

Sloan scoffed.

We did a piece of business there, Sir Cliff and I. After a long list of promises made to the king, he has secured a date for Brainard

s execution. I shall stand heir to Ayliffe for my father

s memory. Brainard dies next week.


So soon,

Anne said in a breath. What Clifton could not do, Sloan would. Richard might have thought it chancy to give Ayliffe to Clifton, but it must have appeared quite safe to give all of Ayliffe

s fighting men, all this land, and these thick walls to the dedicated young nobleman she had raised. She almost smiled again, but the worst was surely yet to come. She watched Clifton wander about the hall and fetch himself a cup of wine. He was decently dressed, for once, and did not stagger in a drunken lurch. He must have paid attention to his indulgences and manners to have managed to retain Sloan

s respect for this
long. Anne had hoped that her son would see Clifton

s true colors. Sloan had not been with Clifton for three years.

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