The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (15 page)

Lucien was baffled. “But why?” he asked. “Why would he want us to leave the carriage in the water?”

Gabriel had no idea. He was frustrated and had taken a goodly cut on his left forearm during the skirmish that needed tending. What was meant to be a simple mission had turned into a life-threatening situation most unexpectedly.

“It makes little sense to me, either,” he said. “We brought the trunks forth and managed to bring them with us back to Spelthorne, but the carriage is where we left it – half-in, half-out of the water. I thought it best if we simply brought the trunks back at this point.”

Lucien wasn’t hard pressed to agree. “So du Ponte became angry because you were trying to salvage the carriage,” he muttered thoughtfully, making sure he had the facts of the incident correct. “He tried to discourage you from the task. And he would not respond to you when you tried to speak to him?”

“Nay, Lucien. He did not respond in the least.”

It was very puzzling and Lucien stroked his chin, pondering the situation, as his men brought forth the wet, algae-covered trunks they had carried on horseback and took them around to the kitchen area to the washerwoman who also did double-duty as the brew wife. Lucien watched his men haul away the trunks as he tried to make sense out of everything.

“Du Ponte’s men must have rushed to Gillingham to tell him of the ambush, but in the process, they left the women behind,” Lucien muttered. “So du Ponte returns but instead of demanding the women, he tries to prevent you from salvaging the carriage. That makes absolutely no sense at all, not even from a fool like du Ponte.”

“Nay, it does not.”

Lucien’s brow suddenly furrowed as a thought occurred to him. “God’s Bones, Gabriel…,” he said. “Do you think it possible that he thought the women might still be inside the carriage and did not want for you to disturb it? That he wanted to leave them in the lake?”

It was a rather horrifying thought. “This I cannot know,” Gabriel said. “It is possible that may be true, but didn’t any of his men see you rescue the women?”

Lucien shrugged. “The entire carriage was swarmed and men were fighting all around it,” he said. “It is possible that du Ponte’s men were so concerned with their own hides that they never saw me. It seems unlikely, but it is entirely possible.”

“So du Ponte does not know you have the women?”

Lucien shook his head. “He must not,” he said. “He returned for the carriage first. If he knew I had them, then surely he would have come to Spelthorne at the very first to claim them.”

Gabriel mulled over the path the conversation was leading them down. It was a strange and unsavory path, indeed. “Do you think he wanted the ladies dead?” He was almost fearful to ask. “We know he is in bed with the outlaws in the area… what if he paid them to stage the ambush in order to kill the women?”

A light of realization went on in Lucien’s dark eyes. “So he returns to the scene of the crime to ensure that it was properly done, sees you trying to salvage the carriage, and has his men attack you in order to prevent you from pulling it from the lake and thereby revealing the victims inside.”

Gabriel lifted his eyebrows ominously. “It is as good a theory as any,” he said. “But to what purpose?”

Lucien cast him a long and knowing glance. “Mayhap he intended to write the lady’s father and tell him that she had been killed,” he said. “He would still be entitled to receive her dowry. No wife, but his wife’s money. From what we know of du Ponte, I would not be surprised if that was the motive.”

Gabriel hissed quietly. “If that is true, then you cannot send him word that the lady is here,” he said. “He would only try to kill her again and possibly the next time he would not fail.”

Lucien had thoughts of the lovely Sophina at the hands of the unscrupulous du Ponte. That sweet, lovely woman an innocent victim to his wickedness. The mere thought made his blood boil.

“Agreed,” he said, trying not to sound as if he had some kind of personal stake in keeping Lady Sophina under his roof. “Mayhap I should send word to Lady Sophina’s father with our suspicions. Surely he would want his daughter sent back to him and away from that bastard.”

Gabriel simply nodded, thinking that all of this intrigue and murderous intentions was a bit too dramatic for his taste. He was a man that relished peace and quiet, a strange preference considering his violent profession. He was growing weary and restless, standing there as Lucien mulled over the situation with Lady de Gournay and St. Michael du Ponte. But Lucien caught the man fidgeting out of the corner of his eye and waved him on. Lucien didn’t want to appear like he was giving the situation, and Lady de Gournay, far too much consideration.

“Go, now,” he told Gabriel. “Make sure the washerwoman begins the cleaning process of Lady de Gournay’s clothing and then you will make yourself presentable to escort the lady and her daughter to the evening meal. And make no mention of your troubles this day, Gabriel. I do not want the lady to know our thoughts on the matter of her betrothed.”

Gabriel nodded smartly. “Aye, my lord.”

Lucien watched his knight depart, heading swiftly for the kitchen yards. But as Gabriel walked away, Lucien found that his thoughts grew more and more heavy on the matter of Sophina and St. Michael du Ponte.

What if the man had, indeed, tried to kill her and make it appear as an accident? With du Ponte’s mercenary reputation, Lucien wouldn’t put anything past him. Now Sophina found herself mixed up in some kind of murder plot so the man could gain her dowry without gaining a wife. It was dastardly at best. That being the case, Lucien had no intention of sending du Ponte any word at all, just as he’d told Gabriel. Instead, he would send word to the lady’s father and inform him of his suspicions. And then he would ask for the lady’s hand in marriage. In truth, du Ponte had just given him a perfect excuse to do so.

Perhaps this situation hadn’t turned out so poorly, after all.

CHAPTER SIX

“M
erciful…
heavens!
”

It was a very loud exhale from Sophina as both Juno and Aricia tried to shore up a girdle that was meant for a very tiny woman, someone Emmaline or Aricia’s size. Even though Sophina wasn’t heavy in the least, she wasn’t skinny or bony, either. She was healthy and curvy in all the right places, so the girdle that Aricia had selected for her was just a bit too small. Still, the girls were trying to make it fit because it matched the dress.

And what a dress it was – a soft, pale blue shift went on beneath a blue brocade that glistened like starlight. With Sophina’s auburn hair and pale skin, the picture was absolutely stunning. Sophina kept trying to politely tell the young women that the garment was too tight but they wouldn’t listen, instead, cinching up the matching girdle to the point where Sophina could hardly breathe. She was certain that her eyeballs were bugging out.

But the girls didn’t notice any of that. They were so pleased with their handiwork that she didn’t have the heart to tell them how tight it was. They were thrilled with the beauty and, when they produced a small bronze mirror, so was Sophina. She had to admit that she looked fairly lovely with a tiny waist and big bosom. She hadn’t thought of herself as lovely in a very long time.

But there was more to it tonight. She hadn’t been able to shake thoughts of Lucien even after she’d been informed of his betrothal to Juno, so she was at the point of giving up trying to forget about the man. There was something magnetic about him, something she was unable to resist. Therefore, she would have to suffer her admiration in silence because she would not, in any way, try to usurp Juno’s place as Lucien’s betrothed. That would have been unfair and unkind.

Still… that didn’t stop her from secretly longing after the man. She’d never had an obsession before but she felt as if this was very quickly turning into one and she further knew that the longer she remained at Spelthorne, the less healthy it would be for her. Every time she looked at the sweet, kind Juno, she just wanted to cry. How that young girl became so lucky as to be betrothed to a man like Lucien would haunt her until she died.

It just wasn’t fair.

But she kept her thoughts to herself as Juno and her cousin cinched her into her borrowed clothing as tightly as a sausage in casing. Emmaline, still in the lovely dress that Juno had loaned her, was excited about the clothing and even more excited when Aricia dressed her hair in braids and ribbons. Sophina had to smile at her giddy young daughter, surrounded by young women her own age for nearly the first time in her life. She’d never known companionship like this on a peer level. It was an awakening of sorts for the sheltered young lady.

Once Emmaline’s hair was finished, Aricia went to work on Sophina’s hair. As a widow, she should have been properly wimpled, but Sophina had never liked wimples nor had she any desire to cover up her head, which she found hot and uncomfortable. Mostly, she wore it gathered at the nape of her neck and it was this elegant but simple style that Aricia followed. Somehow, it seemed to fit her. The style highlighted Sophina’s graceful, swan-like neck and her slender shoulders as the neckline of the shift and surcoat revealed a good deal of Sophina’s porcelain-white skin.

With their new friends dressed, Juno and Aricia now hurried to finish dressing themselves before the meal. Sophina and Emmaline left the chamber to give them privacy and space to work. After all, they were already dressed to the hilt. Now it would be a matter of simply retreating to the great hall and dazzling everyone. Sophina still couldn’t breathe very well but it wasn’t too terribly bothersome, at least not bothersome enough to loosen the stays. She was afraid the entire vision might be ruined if she tried and the girls had worked too hard for her to do that.

So she stood on the landing, trying to keep her breathing steady, as Emmaline rushed into their chamber to make sure Oswald was tended before they went to the evening meal. Since ferrets tended to use corners of rooms to relieve themselves, Emmaline had trained Oswald to use the ashes in the heart, so the girl made sure that what fire there was in the hearth was banked and pushed off to one side so that Oswald wouldn’t get burned if he had to relieve himself. Sophina could hear her daughter banging around in the chamber, speaking to the beastie.

“Mama?” Emmaline suddenly stuck her head out of the chamber. “Do you think Oswald will be hungry while we are away? Mayhap we should have food brought for him.”

Sophina thought on the fat little ferret who liked to eat. “He has a bone to chew on and meat scraps left over from the food that was brought to us earlier, does he not?” she asked. “I do not believe he will need anything more.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure.”

Emmaline still didn’t seem convinced but was precluded from saying anything further as a shadow appeared on the stairs below. It was a man in boots, for the footfalls were heavy as they came up the stairs, and Sophina found herself looking into the handsome face of a young knight. He was very tall, with black hair and cornflower blue eyes. Those eyes were focused intensely on Sophina.

“Lady de Gournay?” the man asked, watching her nod. He smiled politely. “I am Sir Gabriel of Pembury. I have been asked to escort you and your daughter to the evening’s meal. Are you prepared to retreat to the hall, my lady?”

Sophina nodded. “Indeed, my lord,” she said. “My daughter and I are well and ready.”

Gabriel simply smiled and held out his hand in preparation for helping Sophina down the stairs. A man of very few words, his introduction was about all he could stomach with someone he didn’t know. Truth be told, Gabriel was painfully shy when it came to unfamiliar situations or new people, an odd characteristic considering he was one of the fiercer knights on the field of battle. He wouldn’t hesitate when it came to arms or protection, but when it came to new people – and especially women – the big knight was quite nervous.

But he acted with poise he didn’t feel as he assisted two of the female guests that Spelthorne now housed. Since Spelthorne was almost always comprised of soldiers and knights, as a military garrison would be, the event of guests and of women in particular was rare. Now they had four of them, which would undoubtedly make the evening meal much more pleasant. As least, some of the seasoned men seemed to think so. Staring at men across the table all of the time grew painfully boring. Gabriel had even heard rumor that Lucien himself had bathed for the occasion. Women came around and, suddenly, the men didn’t want to smell or look so much like animals.

Including Gabriel. He had to admit, he had washed up as well before coming to collect Lady de Gournay and her daughter. The washerwoman who also brewed the strong, tangy beer they drank here at Spelthorne made soap from tallow, honey, oatmeal, and wood ash that was used by everyone, including the local villagers who did business at the castle. Gabriel was fairly certain that more soap was being used at this moment than had been in months as men washed away the dirt that might offend their dinner companions.

As Gabriel and the ladies emerged from the keep, de Royans was coming in. Clean-shaven and with washed hair, he flashed a grin at Gabriel as he passed in and Gabriel passed out. Colton had been tasked with escorting Lucien’s betrothed to the meal and he, too, had made use of the oatmeal and honey soap.