A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy) (40 page)

BOOK: A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy)
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“I’m going to get Royce.”

“He’s here?” she asked, hope catching her breath.

Nicholas nodded, no doubt in his expression.

“Then let us wait for him. He’ll find us.” The idea of letting Nicholas out of her sight even for a moment terrified her.

He considered her suggestion, his head tilted to the side. “I have to go help him so he can come in. He needs me.”

Alyna’s heart sank. “What if Lord Tegmont or someone catches you?”

“They won’t.”

“Nicholas, I can’t let you go. I’m too afraid something will happen to you.”

He put his hand on her cheek and smiled. “It’s all right. I promise.”

Torn with uncertainty, she tried to weigh the risks. Time was running out. She had to do something soon, and if Royce was near, they had to help him get into the keep.

“All right,” she agreed at last, her heart pounding at the thought of Nicholas leaving her. “Hide behind the door and if you get the chance, escape when they have their backs to you.”

“Aye,” Nicholas agreed, his blue eyes wise and solemn.

She blinked to clear the tears clouding her vision. “Please be careful.”

“She’s coming,” he whispered.

Alyna moved as far away from the door as possible and lay on the floor, pretending she’d fainted.

“My lady?” Margaret asked as she opened the door. “Come quick!” she called to the guard.

Alyna watched through narrowed eyes as the guard hurried into the room. Nicholas scooted out the door, taking her heart with him.

 

***

 

Royce moved with caution along the low, narrow tunnel. He’d waited until dusk to enter it to avoid being seen by the guards on the curtain wall above. The wait had been excruciating, but he and Blackwell agreed the tunnel would be the key to their success. Announcing themselves at the portcullis of the castle would serve no purpose other than to give Tegmont time to prepare for battle.

By the looks of it, no one had passed through the tunnel in years, perhaps even since he’d last traversed it as a boy. He still remembered each curve to where it ended in a small door tucked in the pantry.

An odd feeling stole over him as he made his way in the darkness. For a brief moment, he viewed it through the eyes of a small boy. His heart ached at the memories, at the feeling of knowing his mother and father waited for him in the hall.

A deep breath of the musty air helped him gather his focus on the task before him. He extinguished his torch as he rounded the last curve of the tunnel.

Calmer now, he edged forward, one hand on the wall, the other stretched before him, searching for the door. A few more steps and he saw thin strips of light ahead.

He reached forward and felt the edges of the small wooden door, even narrower than he remembered. A latch was all that prevented his entrance into the keep.

But the damned thing wouldn’t budge. He had no choice but to force the door open. He listened for several moments but heard only silence from the other side. He backed up and rammed the door with his shoulder but the wood didn’t give way.

The latch rattled from the other side and Royce drew his sword as the narrow door swung open.

“Sir Royce?”

Incredulous, Royce peered into the dimness. “Nicholas?”

The boy grinned and ran towards him to grab his leg and hold on tight. “I knew you were coming.”

Royce lifted the boy and hugged him, amazed Nicholas had found him. “What a smart lad you are. How do you fare? Have you seen your mother?”

Nicholas drew back to look at him, still smiling. “We’re good. I’ll take you to Mama. Hurry.”

“She’s well?”

Nicholas nodded and the knot in Royce’s chest eased.

Suddenly, the door to the pantry flew open. “Who goes there?”

Light flooded in, temporarily blinding Royce. He shielded his eyes and saw a man standing before them, knife drawn.

Recognition came slow as his eyes adjusted to the light, bringing a smile to Royce’s lips. “Samuel?”

The old man paused, his eyes narrowed, his knife still at the ready. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“’Tis I, Royce. Surely you remember me?”

Surprise struck the old man silent, his disbelief obvious. A long moment passed before he said, “Do not try to fool an old man. Lord Royce died many years past.”

“Nay, Samuel. I did not die in the fire, though it was a close thing. Henry pulled me to safety and kept me hidden away.”

“Henry? He died that night, too. I don’t believe you.”

Frustration filled Royce as he struggled to remember something that would prove his claim.

Nicholas tugged on his leg. “Show him the rocks.”

It took a moment for Royce to realize what the boy meant. He drew his sword and held it out toward the servant, pommel extended. “Do you remember my father’s sword? Or my mother’s necklace?” He pulled the small blue crystal he wore from underneath his tunic. The crystals winked in the light.

Samuel ran his hand over the rose crystal embedded in the hilt of the sword, then reached a hesitant finger forward to touch the stone Royce wore around his neck. Then he looked long and hard into Royce’s eyes. “If you are Lord Royce, where have you been all this time? And why are you in here in the...the pantry?”

Royce grinned in relief as he patted the servant with affection on the shoulder. “It’s a long story, but right now, I’m in need of your aid.”

A range of emotions passed over the old man’s face and moisture filled his eyes. “Well, hell’s teeth, boy, why didn’t you say so?”

Royce chuckled. “Have you met Nicholas?”

Samuel looked down at the boy as he put away his dagger. “Are you the one they’ve been searching for?”

Nicholas giggled and nodded. “I’m a good hider.”

“Indeed you are.” The old man smiled.

“I need to find his mother, Lady Alyna,” Royce explained. “Do you know where she is? I’ve come to stop my uncle’s marriage.”

Concern filled Samuel’s wrinkled face. “My lord, I fear you’re too late. The wedding is to take place this very night. They’ve already gone to the chapel. The vows have most likely been said by now.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

 

“Larkspur is said to ward off lightning,

but take heed as it is poisonous.”

Lady Catherine’s Herbal Journal

 

Alyna glared at Lord Tegmont, arms folded in a gesture of defiance while her stomach jittered in fear. “I will not say the words until you bring Nicholas here. Now.”

She knew she dared much by refusing him, but what choice did she have? She had to delay the wedding to give Nicholas a chance to find Royce.

The priest stood nearby, his nervousness evident in his stuttering speech. “My lady, I-I d-daresay you will see the child d-directly after the wedding. Lord Tegmont has a-assured me of this.” His gaze darted to Lord Tegmont and back to her again.

Alyna had hoped the priest’s presence would somehow ensure her safety. Now she had serious doubts as to whether it would make any difference. The stammering man seemed to fear Tegmont more than she did.

The small chapel was tucked against the keep in the bailey. Torches lit the long, narrow room, and cast eerie shadows dancing along the walls. Wooden timbers arched across the low ceiling and continued down the wall. A painted panel graced the alter, depicting the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, giving Alyna hope for herself and her son.

“Alyna,” Lord Tegmont said, his tone conciliatory. “You quibble over nothing. Hilde will bring him soon.”

She forced a pleased smile on her face and looked up at Tegmont. The man lied to her with such sincerity that she would’ve believed him if she hadn’t known the truth.

Unless he’d somehow caught Nicholas. She forced herself to calm. She wouldn’t believe that unless she saw it for herself. “Thank you, my lord. I knew you’d understand.”

“Nay. I believe you are the one confused.” His dark eyes glittered dangerously in the torchlight. “We shall begin the ceremony at once.”

Alyna kept her smile, hiding her fear as best she could. “I’d prefer to wait for them.” Panic made it difficult for her to think. What should she do? She’d never dreamed she’d be on the brink of marriage to Tegmont.

The time that had passed since Nicholas’s departure had been nerve-wracking. But he’d been so certain he could find Royce that Alyna had to keep hope. That meant putting off Tegmont for as long as possible.

“Let us begin.” Tegmont gestured impatiently for her to come to him. “The child will come shortly.”

“I’ve yet to see him since my arrival two days past. I insist we wait for him.” Every moment she delayed the wedding provided more time for Nicholas to get help.

Tegmont chuckled, but it was not a pleasant sound. “We will start the wedding now, my dear.” He reached for her hand.

Alyna did not take it. She feared if she did, he’d never let her go. She had to think of another way to distract him. “You haven’t commented on my attire, my lord.”

“You look lovely. The color suits you.” He touched the faded lace near the neckline. “Beautiful.” His eyes took on the strangest look, as though he saw something else. “So beautiful.”

“I didn’t have a chance to thank you for it. ’Tis lovely.” She smoothed the soft, faded linen that had been pretty at one time, her thoughts on the women who’d worn it before her.

“You’ll soon thank me for much more, my dear.” His gaze traveled down her body with an intensity that made her want to turn away.

Instead, she gritted her teeth and tried to think of another topic to delay him. “Don’t we require a witness to our marriage vows?” She gestured to the empty chapel.

“The priest will suffice. I promise we’ll host a huge feast to celebrate.” He smoothed his hand over her sleeve, almost as though he caressed the fabric rather than her. “We’ll invite the entire village, and all will toast us and our happiness.”

Alyna’s heart sank as hopelessness filled her. How was she ever going to escape? Tears misted her vision, and her heart lay heavy in her chest. She bowed her head so Tegmont couldn’t see her despair. “Aye. A feast would be lovely.”

Had it only been a few days since her heart had felt light with love for Royce? It seemed as though an eternity had passed since then. She longed to see him again, to be in his arms. Was he here even now?

She realized he’d given her no reason to doubt him. Florence’s comments and the doubt in her own heart had made her question him, but she knew he would not have used her in his quest for vengeance.

“Come, Alyna. I want to know you’re mine forever.”

She took a deep breath to gather her courage. Resolve straightened her spine. She would not go through with this. He’d never let her keep Nicholas. No more would she pretend. “That is not possible. It will never be.”

Tegmont’s gaze narrowed. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You do not have Nicholas. You do not know where he is, nor have you known since my arrival.”

His silence condemned him. The priest looked from her to his lord, as though unable to grasp the situation.

At last, Tegmont answered, “I should have gotten rid of him immediately. I knew he’d be nothing but trouble.”

“I will not marry you,” she said with conviction. “I demand that you let Nicholas and I leave Larkspur.” Alyna forced herself to say the words without a tremor in her voice.

Tegmont chuckled. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “You are a clever thing, aren’t you?” He circled around her, as though she were an exotic creature on display. “That is why I want you for my wife. You have spirit. Sadly, that is something my other wives lacked.”

Alyna raised her chin. His reminder of his past wives and their rumored fates bolstered her courage. “I am sorry for any promises my father made to you on my behalf, but I will not marry you.” It felt good to say it again; somehow it made it more real.

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