Montague - The Warlord Part 19

"What notion?" she asked, sniffing away the last of her tears.

"The notion that you'd married a b.a.s.t.a.r.d," he said quietly.

Tess scowled. "I told you the truth that day. I don't care."

"Every n.o.blewoman cares," he answered harshly, waiting for the telltale sign that would say she was lying. His frown faded to confusion. " 'Tis the reason I've rarely been pursued for marriage. Most at court know or suspect the truth, and none would dare mingle their highborn blood with that of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Good Lord. Your father is the King of England. You have more royal blood than any other n.o.bleman, save the royal family itself. Do you honestly think yourself lacking because of it?"

"Nay," he admitted, giving her a pointed look. "But most do."

"Well, I don't," she said simply.

"Then why did you try to deny me after learning the truth? Why did you spend the last weeks avoiding me?"

Tess's eyes narrowed. "I tried to deny you because Helen had me convinced that you made a habit of slaughtering women and babies. I was furious with you for thinking you could demand your husbandly rights after treating me like a wayward child."

Kenric regretted asking the question. "All right, I will admit that my timing left something to be desired that day. What about all that followed?"

Tess eyed him warily, as if she didn't believe he'd dismissed her argument so easily. "When a man is finding pleasure elsewhere, he has no need of it from his wife."

One brow rose over the challenging tone of her answer. She was asking a question of her own. Tess really had no idea that he'd lain awake for hours on end, tormenting himself into an agony while she stewed with jealousy over an imagined mistress. It was almost laughable. Almost.

"You have lost time to make up for." He decided to let her wonder about the mistress. No need to let her become complacent. He stood up with Tess still in his arms then let her slide slowly down the length of his body, his eyes still locked with hers. "This night you will make up for all the nights of pleasure you have denied me."

"You are-"

Kenric placed his fingers over her mouth. "This is not open for discussion."

Tess nodded slowly.

"I will make up for your lost time as well."

Tess smiled.

Within the strong circle of his arms, Tess found thoughts of anything but her husband amazingly easy to push aside. She allowed herself to think only of Kenric, only of giving herself to him completely. And she was greedy, the sure knowledge that this was their last night together pushing aside any temptation to sleep once they both lay sated. She used her hands to memorize his body, committing every part of him to memory. She started on his back, still marveling at the power she held over him, watching his muscles flex instinctively in response to her soft, exploring caresses. By the time he turned over, his desire had already stirred to life again and her explorations came to an abrupt end. At last the sleepless nights finally caught up with him and he rolled to his back, cradling her at his side. He was asleep within minutes. As the cold gray light of dawn pushed away the darkness, Tess felt her tears begin to fall again in a steady, silent stream.

A weaker woman would stay within the circle of these strong arms. She wouldn't think of the consequences of her selfishness. Tess forced herself to picture the battle that would result if she remained with Kenric, images of people she'd known all her life falling beneath his sword, villagers and serfs dying the slower, crueler death of starvation. Hers was one life, theirs were many. Her father told her often that it was her responsibility to do whatever was necessary to protect the people of Remmington, that the burden she would bear as his only heir would be both blessing and curse. Turning to place a gentle kiss in the center of Kenric's chest, tasting her own tears, Tess decided that her father had been wrong about the blessing part. It was time to leave.

18.

Tess stayed within the circle of Kenric's arms as long as she dared, glad of his exhaustion as she slipped from the bed without disturbing him. She pulled out the dress with the saffron bodice and colorful skirt, knowing what she had to do today would likely see a gown damaged beyond repair. After dressing and quickly braiding her hair, she tucked her cloak under one arm and crept quietly from the room. There were two young soldiers asleep in the hall, the guards who relieved Simon and Evard at night when she was with Kenric. She stepped soundlessly over the guards and made her way down the tower steps. An hour was all she needed to get away from the castle. She would gain an even greater lead when the fortress was searched to no avail. If her luck held, Kenric wouldn't know anything was amiss for hours. She didn't want to think of his reaction when he opened their chamber door and discovered her guards still waiting for her to emerge for the day. She would never allow herself to picture that image.

The great hall was still quiet, but Tess could hear the muted sounds of servants beginning their day in the kitchens. The sun had peeked over the horizon by the time Tess slipped through a small door and hurried down the path that led to the gardens.

Missing Tess's warmth, Kenric reached across the bed to pull her closer. His hand swept over the sheets, his search not finding even the lingering warmth of her body. He opened one eye then the other, his gaze moving from the bed across the empty room. She was probably off to one of her projects already, he decided, closing his eyes again. She should have stayed with him this morning, knowing he'd not want to part from her company soon this day. h.e.l.l, she should have known he'd want to spend the entire day with her. Disgruntled, he opened his eyes again, deciding to seek her out and make his wishes known. No more beating about the bush.

The warmth of his bed lulled him into remaining there a few minutes longer. He stretched his arms and legs out as far as he could and yawned hugely, wondering if Tess might have gone to the kitchens for his breakfast. What a treat that would be. Knowing Tess, he supposed it more likely that she was already up to her elbows in some scrub bucket, yet he decided to give her a few more minutes in case she was doing what she should this morning: returning with his breakfast.

He was very good at waiting. He crossed one ankle over the other and propped his hands behind his head again. Hadn't he waited nearly an entire fortnight to bed his wife, handily resisting temptation every single night? Aye, everyone knew he had the patience of Job when it came to waiting. Tess was probably making her way down the hall right now. He uncrossed his legs then switched positions, propping the other leg on top. Patience was definitely a virtue he possessed in great quant.i.ty. Any minute now the door would open. The foot that was propped in the air began to wiggle back and forth in a steady, irritated rhythm. Where the h.e.l.l was his breakfast?

With a snort of disgust he rose from the bed. He would give her a few more minutes, he decided, walking toward the window. The days were growing warmer and he pushed aside the shutter that kept out drafts at night. The sun was already peeking over the horizon and it promised to be a fine day.

A movement far below caught his eye and his gaze swept over the gardens that were still shadowed from the morning sun by the battlements. A servant woman was making her way through the maze of rose arbors. He would have dismissed it as a lover's tryst if she wasn't making her way so determinedly toward the south wall. It was the most remote part of the gardens and well suited to rendezvous, but the p.r.i.c.kly vines that covered the wall also concealed the castle's only bolthole.

The servant's cloak caught on one of the th.o.r.n.y hedges and she was forced to back up a step to untangle the garment. After tugging twice to free the cloak, the woman tossed the edges over her shoulders to avoid further entanglements and Kenric caught sight of her gown. Only one woman at Montague owned a gown that ugly.

She was simply going for a morning stroll. Kenric had repeated that silent litany five times when she reached the shrubs that concealed the bolthole. His blood turned to ice as he watched her bend toward the shrubs. Even from this distance he could make out the shape of a linen sack as it was pulled from its hiding place. From the way she was tugging away the vines, it would only be a matter of minutes before she was in the tunnel that led underneath the walls. She truly intended to run from him. Again.

Liar! his mind shouted, recalling every word she spoke the night before. Everything she'd done and said had been a lie. How she must have laughed at her besotted husband. She was good at playacting, he'd give her that much. Something inside he'd never known was there began to die, its dust blown away in a gale of mounting fury.

"TESS!".

Kenric watched the distant figure freeze and he knew she heard his bellow. She frantically stuffed the linen sack back into its hiding place and hastily rearranged the vines. Satisfied that she wasn't going to make a run for it, he stalked across the room to the chamber door, flinging it open just short of the force required to remove it from its hinges. His wife's two guards were already stumbling to their feet, one with a drawn sword.

"If either of you wish to live long enough to see the sun set, you will get to the gardens and bring my wife back here immediately!"

He slammed the door shut then marched over to a trunk, jerking out a handful of clothing. This time he was going to kill her. He was certain of it. Last night had been an act. Tess hadn't meant one word. She'd avoided him as long as she could, submitted when she thought he would tolerate no more, then fled after making certain he slept in the sated exhaustion of her lies. Deceitful little b.i.t.c.h.

His fingers flew over his laces, dressing with military precision, tugging on his boots with one vicious jerk each. He needed her alive. That thought made him livid. He needed her alive and she knew it. If she said one word to him, one lie, he would take her slim throat between his hands and choke the life from her. He'd enjoy doing it.

Kenric left his chamber and made his way through the great hall to the barracks. A few soldiers had already risen but more remained in their beds. Kenric marched down the long room until he found one of the two he was looking for. One booted foot shoved Evard from his bunk to the stone floor. Simon was there already when Kenric turned on his heel to start searching for him.

"Both of you come with me," he told them in a deadly voice. "Now!"

Simon was dressed, but Evard had to make a hasty grab for his breeches, pulling them on beneath the linen shirt he'd worn to bed the night before. The baron led them back through the great hall to the castle's solar, where he simply paced the room for a good quarter hour.

"Evard," he finally said. "My wife will be in my bedchamber by now. If she is not, you will return here immediately and tell me so. If she is, you will make certain she remains there. The two guards who were on duty there last night will be confined to their quarters to await my judgment. Go now."

Evard didn't even bow in his haste to leave the room. Kenric continued to pace. Simon wisely remained silent.

Kenric tormented himself by remembering every single moment of the night, how he'd treasured the touch of her hand on his, feeling as if she'd just bestowed the greatest gift in the world. It meant nothing to Tess. He'd treated her with near reverence, cherished her. She had cried her eyes out, doubtless aggrieved because she faced an entire night of his unwanted lovemaking. Her sweet surrender in their chamber had been nothing but a duty she could no longer avoid. Their chamber. His jaw tightened, the muscle there working spasmodically. It was not their chamber, it was his. He'd not share it with her again.

Another hour pa.s.sed before he felt ready to face her. His bedchamber held too many memories. He would summon her to the solar where he would be less tempted to violence. He continued to pace, knowing it mattered little if he faced her here or in his chamber. He wanted to see her suffer and it didn't matter where.

"Send her."

The two words were all Simon needed to make his exit from the room.

Tess was doing her own share of pacing at that moment. She knew without being told that Kenric had guessed the reason for her absence. She just wasn't sure how much he knew. From the look on Simon's face when he arrived at her door, Tess knew the answer was not far off. By the time they reached the solar, her knees were nearly knocking together. Simon rapped once on the door then pushed it aside, giving her a rea.s.suring nod as he whispered under his breath. "I will be just outside the door, milady."

Tess returned his nod but didn't think it very encouraging that he would be outside the door. Her trouble lay on the other side. She took a few quiet steps into the room and bowed her head to wait. Kenric's back was to her as he stared out the long, mullioned window, directly into the harsh morning sunlight that streamed into the room. He was dressed all in black. Tess supposed that was fitting enough. She could feel nothing but malice in the air.

"Who told you about the bolthole?"

She couldn't detect a trace of emotion in his voice. She hadn't expected any. Her heart sank as she realized he'd likely watched her from their chamber window and knew all.

"The steward," she said quietly. "He told me that the bailiff must have used it for his escape."

"What did you plan, once you reached the other side?"

Tess remained silent.

"Answer the question!"

"I meant to go to my uncle in Scotland."

"His king would have ordered him to send you to MacLeith. Do try again."

Tess wished he would turn around and face her, then decided she liked his back better. She'd rather remember the way he looked at her last night, the warmth in his eyes as she laid her heart at his feet. Today he would crush it beneath his boot. She should have fled the instant she heard him shout her name, should have known that he was not simply angry over her absence when he awoke.

Thinking she could conjure a lie to explain away her absence, then escape later was a huge mistake. She had thrown away her last hope.

"I meant to appeal to his priest," Tess began, knowing he would have the truth sooner or later. "I have known since our marriage that there is but one way to avoid bloodshed at Remmington. The church is the only law MacLeith would dare not defy. Even his own men would not follow a leader who lost the sanctions of the church."

"You meant to annul the marriage," Kenric stated flatly.

Tess could admit anything but that. She couldn't bring herself to speak the truth.

"I will a.s.sume your silence is an admittance of guilt."

She heard the finality in those words, knew he'd made a decision about what she'd done. Yet he knew none of her reasons. "It seemed best, milord. My lands would revert to King Edward. 'Tis a certainty he would name you lord, yet you would not have to war for the estates. Without a wife, you could keep the oath you made to your brother, Guy, although-"

"Silence! You will never again speak to your lord unless you are spoken to."

The room fell silent. Tess had no idea what he planned to do with her. Something unpleasant, she was sure. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She'd done what she could to save Remmington and she'd failed. With failure came a defeat greater than any she'd ever known. Remmington would not be the only thing she lost today. She'd also lost her husband.

"Go to my chamber and collect everything that is yours. You have a quarter of an hour to pack your belongings. I will not be fouled again with your presence."

Somehow Tess made her way from the solar, so numb that she could barely feel her legs beneath her. Packing her belongings meant she was leaving. He would no longer live with her; he made it brutally clear that he never wanted to see her again. Whether he sent her from the fortress or kept her somewhere within it, what did it matter? Nothing mattered. There was no point left to anything, no purpose. She'd done all she would be allowed to do. Remmington would fall in a sea of blood.

She moved around the room in an unconscious haze, packing the remainder of her clothing in one of the linen sacks she'd brought from Langston Keep. Half her belongings were already in the sack hidden in the garden. She no longer had any use for them.

Having packed her bags in half the time allotted, Tess sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, staring sightlessly into the fireplace. No troublesome thoughts ran through her head, only peaceful silence. The minutes drifted by quietly. Her gaze moved from the fireplace to her hands held limply in her lap, watching the pulse that beat almost imperceptibly in her wrist to mark off the seconds of her life.

"Milady?" Simon asked hesitantly from the doorway. He turned to Evard and two other soldiers who lingered curiously in the hallway. "Evard, you will go on ahead. You two go back to the great hall."

Simon waited until his orders were obeyed then took another step into the bedchamber. "Milady, you are to return with me to the solar."

Tess stood up like a puppet and followed Simon from the room, barely aware of his guiding hand on her elbow as they walked the long hallways back to the solar. Kenric was gone by the time they arrived.

"I received word that the baron wishes to speak with me," Simon told her quietly, after seating Tess in one of the chairs near the fireplace. He avoided the blank stare in the baroness's eyes. "Evard will be outside, should you need anything while I am gone. I will leave the door open so he will hear should you call for him. Is there anything you need before I leave?"

Simon waited patiently for an answer. The baroness simply stared unblinking across the bright chamber. With a silent curse he left the room and hurried away to find the baron. He finally tracked Kenric down in the armory. Thomas was busy helping the warlord into the light armor he wore for morning practices with his men. It seemed he intended to go about his business as usual. Simon walked forward and Kenric dismissed his squire with a curt nod.

"My sister will resume her duties as chatelaine. Fitz Alan will ensure that she performs them adequately. My wife is to remain in the solar," Kenric told the soldier bluntly, his attention on the fastenings of a metal armband. "She will not leave that chamber for any reason. No one will be allowed to see her other than those who bring her food and those who guard her. As of now, you and Evard will return to your duties on the practice fields where there is greater need for your talents. You will a.s.sign others to guard the solar door and no one man will receive the duty more than two days in a row. Any soldier who enters that room without my permission will be flogged. Any soldier who allows her to set foot from that room will be put to death. The ones who slept outside my door last night may sleep all they want in the dungeons. They will remain there three nights without sustenance. Those are my orders. See that they are obeyed."

The baroness did not fall into a fit of hysterics, as Simon half expected when he delivered the news. She remained seated in the chair, her expression empty, exactly as Simon left her before receiving these h.e.l.lish commands. The look in her eyes remained startlingly vacant when he recited the orders in his own words, trying impossibly to make them sound less harsh than they were. He tried prodding her with questions to get some response but she remained silent. He told her he'd arranged for Miriam to deliver the lady's meals, but still no response.

Simon had a bed moved in from one of the unused chambers, but he received no thanks for that kindness. He found a clothes trunk, but her pitiful bag of belongings only seemed to emphasize the fact that she had little to put in it. Other pieces of furniture and comforts were brought to the room, none of it drawing a response from Lady Tess, each piece as unappreciated as the last. Knowing his absence would soon be noted on the practice field, Simon finally departed.

Miriam arrived at noon with a tempting meal of stew and cider. It remained untouched on the table that Simon had placed near the hearth. Giving up after a few cajoling words about the tastiness of the meal, Miriam made up the bed with linens and a coverlet she'd brought along, doing her best to keep up a one-sided conversation.

"Lady Helen's tapestry is half started, milady," Miriam said, her tone cheerful. She nodded toward the loom in one corner that contained the tapestry, but the baroness's blank gaze didn't follow. "She would surely appreciate your help with the piece. I often find comfort when plying a needle, the results of my work the reward of the effort."

The bed made, Miriam began fluffing the pillows, taking longer at the task than required. "Old Martha is still in her bed, but she intends to deliver a few of your meals when she's able to get around again. She wants to thank you for your help with the village children. The weekly medicines you meant for their mothers are ready and she wonders if she should send them ahead." Miriam waited a moment for an answer. "Would you like Old Martha to send the medicines to the village, milady?"

Miriam shivered at the lack of expression in Lady Tess's eyes. She asked the baroness a few more questions then finally shook her head in defeat. Hours later, she had no better luck at dinner. Nothing had the slightest effect on the woman who sat as still and mute as a statue.

Sometime after Miriam left, Tess felt the need to relieve herself. Her head finally turned toward the door that led to the garderobe, an unexpected twinge of stiffness in the movement. She stood but stumbled to her knees, the muscles in her legs having locked after so many hours of absolute stillness. Moving slowly, she gained her feet again and walked stiffly to the door, performing the necessary task then returning to the main room. Miriam had stoked the fire before leaving and Tess walked toward its warmth. She sat cross-legged on the fur that was spread before the hearth and stared into the flames, the sight of the fire just as hypnotic as staring at the wall.

Miriam found her in that same position the next morning, staring sightlessly into the cold hearth. She laid a new fire, but could not coax the baroness to the bed, or even back to the chair. Tess's muscles stiffened of their own accord when Miriam boldly tried to pull her to her feet. Gazing down at the lady's empty eyes, Miriam crossed herself against evil then quickly left the chamber.

The warmth from the new fire seeped slowly into Tess's bones, as if awakening her from a deep sleep. She watched the flames dance along the oak logs yet the fire didn't hold the same strange fascination that it had the night before. The sound of voices returned with the warmth, as if carried in the heat of the flames. Tess didn't want to hear them, but they would not be silenced.

Closing out the world and retreating within herself was not the answer. Trying to shake off the strange lethargy, she straightened her legs and rubbed them to get the blood moving. When she felt reasonably certain they would not falter, she rose and made her way to the table, taking a seat in front of the breakfast Miriam had left behind. The smell of the food made her stomach lurch violently, but Tess forced herself to eat, one small biteful at a time. A fat tear splashed onto her hand and Tess idly wiped it away. The food roiled in her stomach and she clapped her hand over her mouth, barely making the garderobe before losing her meal.

When Miriam arrived at midday with her meal, Tess used Kenric's trick and stared silently out the window with her back to the room, discouraging any conversation. She wasn't ready to face anyone, to see the questions or condemnation in their eyes.

The ploy worked well and Tess was left alone with her meals. Keeping food in her stomach was proving more of a challenge than she'd imagined. By the third day of her confinement, she had learned to avoid anything with even a hint of spice or strong flavors. So far bread was her most successful food. Her meals contained little else to help her keep even that down. The sickness would pa.s.s, she told herself, trying not to dwell on the problem.

19.

Kenric ate more from habit than hunger, barely tasting the delicious food. The bounty from the kitchen had continued in his wife's absence and the great hall was as quiet tonight as it had been every other night this week. His men ate in respectful silence, no longer fouling the hall with the remnants of their meals. No one within Montague would be so lacking in sense as to test him. They knew the days of his leniency were gone.

"Simon still absents himself from my table," he remarked to Fitz Alan, nodding toward an empty chair. Simon had found one excuse or another to make himself scarce at meals for the past week.

"Aye," Fitz Alan answered. "He said there were duties that would keep him busy in the armory until late this night."

"There is no more word of the bailiff?" Kenric asked.

"Nay, every village has been searched and most of the countryside. No one has seen him for more than a fortnight. 'Tis as if he disappeared into thin air."

Kenric nodded and returned to his meal. Fitz Alan frowned, realizing the discussion was over. The baron spoke rarely since his wife's aborted escape, only to give orders or to make an idle remark such as the last that invited little conversation. Fitz Alan was the only person at Montague who had not actively avoided his company this past week. He'd mistakenly believed that Kenric might want a sympathetic ear to vent his anger, yet he kept it to himself instead. No one doubted its existence. Each day he pushed his men to the limits of their endurance, often taking the field himself to test their mettle. The smallest mistakes were punished ruthlessly.

Fitz Alan knew Kenric had good reason to be furious, but he was beginning to wonder who was being punished the most. He also wondered what would happen when they were called to court. The baron would be expected to produce a wife who stood willingly by his side. It seemed an unlikely event if he didn't change his mind about keeping her locked up. Although Fitz Alan wasn't foolish enough to question Kenric about his intentions where Lady Tess was concerned, Simon had confided all. Fitz Alan still had trouble understanding the severity of the punishment. The lady hadn't actually escaped after all, and no one had been hurt or even worked up a good sweat in detaining her. Confining her for a week or two would be a fitting way to show her the errors of her ways, but locked away for the rest of her life? It was unreasonable. Everyone but Kenric seemed to realize that fact.