Dauntless (Valiant Hearts Book #1) (18 page)

“’Tis just . . .” Allen lowered his voice and made sure the other men were not listening. “’Tis just a harsh reminder. You weren’t meant for a life like this, nor a fellow like me. The sooner I accept it, the better.”

Merry reached out and gave Allen’s shoulder a squeeze as they continued down the trail. She considered his words. For the past two years she had immersed herself in this new life, in the weighty responsibility of caring for the children. But being at the castle with Timothy had brought to mind her old dreams and desires, had rekindled a small hope that she might yet be free someday. She found herself too confused to say more.

A ripping sensation pulled at her chest. Her heart felt tugged in two—between her old life and her new. Between ease and struggle. Between castle and forest. Between a love lost with Timothy and the possibility of new love with Allen, which she had chosen to deny.

They emerged from another thick copse into a more sparsely treed area, leading to a hillside. There sunlight streamed through the branches and hit the ground in a patchwork pattern.

“This is it!” Robert swept his hand, indicating the area.

“What is it?” asked Merry, seeing nothing noteworthy.

“Watch this.” Cedric whistled the call of the wood warbler.

The steep hillside shifted a bit, sending leaves and branches astir. Then it slid to the side, revealing the narrow mouth of a cave behind it. The children burst forth with giggles and shouts.

“Merry, Merry, we’ve missed you so.” Abigail threw her arms around Merry’s waist.

“I knew you’d make it back, Lady Merry. I never doubted you.” Sadie’s voice sounded of bravery, yet she hugged her with all her strength and buried her head in Merry’s shoulder.

The children descended upon her and wrapped themselves about her, their joint hug growing into one large mass of bodies.

A small figure pushed her way through, shoving the larger children out of her path. Before Merry stood little Wren, arms crossed over her chest and a frown upon her face.

The group cleared a broader opening for her, all curious to witness her antics.

Merry stooped down to Wren’s eye level. “What is it, sweetheart? Whatever could be wrong?”

Wren scrunched her face into the most threatening expression she could manage. She shook her pudgy little finger in Merry’s face. “Don’t you never go way gin! Hear me, Ma-wee?”

Everyone burst into laughter as Merry scooped the child into her arms and stood up straight. “I promise, Wrenny. I will never disappear like that again.”

Wren sniffled and popped a thumb in her mouth to calm herself.

Merry took in the faces of the children around her. A poignant mix of joy and fear. No, she could never leave them. She had been mistaken to even consider the possibility. They might be able to function without her, but it was clear that they loved her dearly. She was an integral part of this group. Despite all that had gone wrong in the last two years, she must remember to be thankful for this gift. She must put fancy gowns, delicious meals, elegant castles, feather mattresses, and most of all Timothy Grey far from her mind.

“Well then.” Merry gathered hold of herself. “Show me our new home.”

“’Tis quite comfy,” said Jane.

Kate nodded her agreement. “When I first saw it, I thought it would be horrible, but wait until you get inside.”

“These lovely ladies could make a home of anything.” Red took Jane’s hand in his, and she looked up at him with pride and admiration in her eyes.

Goodness, whatever had happened in Merry’s absence? She struggled to maintain a pleasant expression despite the twinge of concern niggling at her belly. No point fighting the inevitable.
She had known this day would come, no matter what trouble it might cause. To think that not a week ago, Jane had been too shy to kiss Red upon his cheek. “Red! Your trip to town. In all the excitement I forgot about it. Was it a success?”

“You should have seen him,” said Cedric. “A fine knight indeed. No one questioned him for a moment.”

“Especially not when he tossed shillings at them,” added Robert.

Jane pressed to Red’s side as they ducked beneath the rocky outcropping.

Merry followed suit, being sure to protect Wren’s head. But once she passed the entrance, the cave opened into a spacious room. Her band had set up this main area for cooking and playing, as they had used the clearing in their old camp.

“Over there are the supplies I brought you, Merry.” Red gestured to sacks of grains, nuts, dried fruits, and root vegetables along the wall, as well as a fresh supply of candles and oil. Enough to last a good part of the winter.

“He purchased those apples I wanted.” Cedric’s grin spread across his face. “And we’ve plenty of small coins now, so any of us might purchase supplies in the future.”

“Very good,” said Merry.

“Look over here.” Jane tugged at her arm, and Merry took note of a passageway extending off to the left. “The girls and little ones sleep back in that room, and there’s another one to the rear where the boys sleep.”

“Aye,” said Cedric, “and the smoke from the fires filters into a hole hundreds of feet from the opening. A gift sent from God, don’t you think?”

Merry did not answer, although she was more open to the possibility than she would have been two weeks earlier.

Allen came beside her. “We have tightened security. The
children play inside much of the time now, and we keep the camouflage up all day. We will go out for sunshine and military training during the afternoon, but the guard will be doubled at that time. And only the oldest will be sent away from the camp to collect water and provisions.”

Merry’s muscles, which had been knotted since the moment the arrow thudded against her windowsill, began to unwind. She had held so tight to her control for so long. Perhaps she could give more responsibility over to the men. “You all have done so well. I feared we would have to run away immediately.”

This new plan might buy them some time to recoup. Lord Wyndemere would not likely give up his search for the ghosts, but even Timothy Grey would be hard-pressed to find this hideaway.

Wren now cuddled peacefully in her arms. This was all that mattered. Keeping these children safe. They must take advantage of this respite now while they could, but they would remain at the ready. No doubt new threats would emerge soon enough.

Timothy could barely restrain himself from fidgeting in his chair across the desk from Lord Wyndemere. The earl perused the accounts he had meticulously kept during the man’s absence. Although Timothy knew the earl could not read or write well, he had a shrewd eye for numbers. And while Timothy felt confident that his lord would find not one pence amiss, he felt not at all confident about how to proceed in accounting for Merry Ellison’s short stay in the castle.

During the past week, Timothy had thrown himself into the job of managing the earl’s holdings with excellence. He could think of no other way to numb the ache in his heart, although he met with little success on that matter.

Somehow, he still hoped to please his lord and maintain his position, but he could not completely decide why it was so important. For both moral and professional reasons, he did not want to deceive the man. But did he not have a moral obligation to protect women and children as well? Women and children who, were it not for the fickle whims of a ruthless king, would
be guilty of no crimes whatsoever? He must tread with care when stating his case.

The earl turned his attention from the pages back to Timothy. A random glint of sunlight from the window bounced with a sharp shard of light off the lord’s bald pate. Timothy was struck, as he had been on multiple occasions, by the fact that he found this phenomenon intimidating rather than amusing. But thus was the demeanor of the earl.

Lord Wyndemere folded his hands and tapped his pointer fingers together. Timothy recognized the gesture. Matters were about to get serious. The earl’s eyes hardened, and a smirk covered his face. “I believe all is in order. That leaves only one more issue to discuss. The ghosts. I must say, I was quite disappointed to find no rotting remains to greet me upon my return to the castle. Then I thought to myself, no, Timothy would not kill them. He would merely imprison them—leave the hanging to me. But alas, I found only a lone cripple in my dungeons. Nary a ghost at all.”

Timothy’s throat constricted. “Um . . . yes . . . well.” He attempted to clear his voice and try again. “It seems that it might be a more tangled situation than we first anticipated.”

“Tangled, you say. How so?” The earl drew his dagger from his belt, and turned it to and fro in his hand, examining the blade.

Timothy took a deep breath and steeled his courage in the same manner he had taught Merry years ago. He must find his strength. For both of their sakes. “I caught sight of a few young women and children who seemed to be living in the forest, but not anyone who might fit the description of the ghosts.”

“I daresay ghosts are rather ethereal and difficult to describe. One should not presume to guess at their appearance.” The earl ran his thumb over the blade of the knife.

“But I assumed we were searching for adult men of some strength and skill.”

“Most likely,” the earl agreed. “Although not for certain.” He scraped at his teeth with the blade.

“But would you truly wish to see women and small children hanging from the castle walls?”

The earl paused from cleaning his teeth and gave Timothy his full attention. His features softened as he considered Timothy’s question. “I confess, that would bring me no joy. Justice is justice and I would do my duty to the king, but methinks such a sight would rather spoil my dinner for days.”

“Precisely as I feel, my lord. And I do need to tell you something rather important in relation to this matter. I most sincerely hope it will not displease you overmuch. I did my best to serve both your interests and justice, but I fear my inexperience might have led me astray.”

“Go on, my boy. Spit it out.”

“I recognized one of the young women from my childhood. Not wanting the ghosts to notice me, I captured her and brought her back to the castle for questioning. I kept her under house arrest, but in a manner befitting her station.”

“And what was her station?” the earl asked slowly, enunciating each word.

“She was . . . rather is . . . Merry Ellison, daughter of the former Baron of Ellsworth.”

He studied Timothy for a moment and then the wall beyond him as he pursed his lips. Placing his dagger back in its sheath, Lord Wyndemere said, “Ellsworth. Quite a bloody mess that was. You know I do not speak against the king, but that affair never did sit well with me. To wipe out an entire village for their baron’s sins? That is not justice. It is revenge pure and simple. Between you and me, I believe it was the final blow that
precipitated this rebellion.” He shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment. Then they flashed open once again. “But you say his daughter, Lady Merry Ellison, might still be alive.”

“The title no longer applies, but yes, Merry is very much alive. She was here in this castle not a week ago.”

“So where is she now?”

“That, I am sorry to report, is where matters went amiss. She disappeared. She was in the north tower and well-guarded. It must have been the ghosts. I can think of no other possibility.”

“Did you learn anything from the girl?”

“I am afraid I could coax no helpful information from her.” Timothy sought for words that might protect her without being false. “My suspicion was that she, along with a few other escaped children from Ellsworth, might be prisoners of the ghosts. But she never did confirm that.”

“And you say she was a childhood friend of yours.”

“Yes.” He did not wish to cloud the situation by mentioning she was his intended. Still very carefully choosing his words, Timothy said, “But I surmised at some point that she feared for the safety of the children. Despite our past relationship, she was unwilling to trust me with any details. These ghosts might have threatened her, but I had no wish to resort to such tactics myself. She seemed rather wounded.”

“Hmm . . . if they knew you had her, they must realize we were searching for them. Have there been any further reports of thievery?”

“A horse went missing a day after you left, but he has since found his way home, which means no mysterious thefts in several weeks. And oddly, the herbalist found three shillings on his shelf the same day that Merry disappeared.”

Lord Wyndemere sighed in relief. “I do feel rather sorry for those children. On the other hand, they might be with the ghosts
of their own will . . . ” The earl drummed his fingers upon the desk. “One could hardly blame them if they did so to survive.”

“I considered that as well,” said Timothy.

“Merry Ellison alive—that is a tricky situation. I must admit, I am glad to be spared any difficult decisions on that count. I would hate to be forced to execute her.”

Timothy unclenched his hands from the edges of his seat, although he did not recall grabbing it in the first place, and the muscles of his shoulders relaxed. The earl would not go after Merry. “My father suggested we might beg King John for clemency on behalf of Merry and the children. I penned the missive but could not bring myself to send it.”

“Well, on that one matter you acted wisely. The king is in an outrage over his treasure that sank in that estuary and the barons’ rebellion. Not to mention quite sickly at the moment. I have never seen the man in such a foul temper, and that is saying much.”

Timothy did not know how to respond. It seemed even the earl’s loyalty to the king might be wavering, but he dared not speak his opinion on the matter.

The earl continued the conversation, sparing Timothy a reply. “I agree that the situation should have been handled better. However, I recognize that you attempted to do right. Even brought your father into the conversation. That shows wisdom to ask for help when needed. Perhaps I heaped too much responsibility upon you too early.”

Timothy’s nerves shot to high alert. The earl might regret his decision and return him to lowly scribe. Or dismiss him entirely. However, with Merry and the children still weighing heavy upon his heart, he could not bring himself to care much. Perhaps the earl was correct, and he had not been ready for the responsibility. He had acted rashly, largely out of his fear of
losing Merry again. Now he had failed at his mission and lost her in the process anyway.

“It was indeed a challenge.” Timothy filled the silence gaping between them. “But I hope that in all other matters I fulfilled your expectations.”

“Yes, everything else seems to be in order.” The earl patted the stack of parchments before him. Then something in his demeanor shifted, and a chilling smirk crossed his face. “Know that I do not doubt your faithfulness, my boy. However, I must maintain certain standards and expectations.”

“Of course, my lord.” Although he did not know where the earl might be going with this, by his expression, the direction could not be good.

Wyndemere pounded the table before him. “Then you understand that you still owe me several bodies to hang from my walls. You
will
capture the ghosts if you wish to remain in my employ. Though I imagine you have made the challenge considerably harder on yourself by spooking them deeper into the forest. Let the women and children go, but find the leaders and deliver them to me.” He stood now and stared down at Timothy.

Dread ran cold through Timothy’s veins at the thought of undertaking such a task, at the thought of chasing Merry even farther away. “Shall I take a troop of guards with me?”

“No, that opportunity has passed. You shall do it alone.”

Timothy stared down at his hands to avoid the lord’s icy glare. He took a calming breath and rallied his courage. “I see.”

“Fail me, and you are dismissed from my service. Beyond that, if I should discover that you did not allot this mission your full effort and attention, I will see to it that no one in this kingdom shall hire you again, not even as a scribe, not even as a scullery maid. Do I make myself clear?”

Forcing himself to meet the earl’s stare, he said, “Abundantly,
my lord.” He fought back a shiver at the intensity of the man’s hard brown eyes.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Off with you, then. Do not return without at least three bodies in tow, unless it is to pack your belongings.”

Timothy stood and held his head high. He would not cower before the earl. Such men feasted on weakness. “Good-bye, then. For now.” The next words came from his mouth before fully forming in his head. “I will not fail you.”

As he pivoted to exit and pack for his journey, he contemplated if he had meant that last statement. He tortured himself with the question as he passed through the shadowy hallways of the castle, and by the time he reached his room, the answer grew clear.

Yes, he would capture the leaders of the ghosts. He had worked too hard and too long for his position to give it all up now. Merry had not confessed love, nor even any particular like for him. Certainly not any loyalty. Perhaps she had dallied with him to win his favor, but she had made it clear she did not want him. He had witnessed the harsh truth of that with his own eyes time and again, and he must accept it.

Beneficial anger simmered in his chest. She had used him, played him wrong. There would be no dishonor in bringing her fellow thieves to justice. Of course, he would still do everything in his power to keep her safe. Despite her shoddy treatment of him, his heart would not permit otherwise.

But he would capture the ghosts!

Before long, Timothy made his way through the congested courtyard to the wooden stable beyond. He ducked into the shadowy, hay-scented place and called to the stable master, “Greeves, fetch my saddle.”

Greeves ceased brushing one of the horses, eyed him shiftily—no doubt biting back some rude retort—and finally turned to obey. Timothy would not bother himself with the man’s attitude, for he had far weightier issues on his mind at the moment—like how to capture the ghosts and what Merry might think when he did.

Greeves returned a few moments later with the saddle and carried it to Spartacus’s stall. He handed it over to Timothy and stroked the horse on its nose as Timothy worked at saddling it.

“Where are you off to, if you don’t mind me asking?” It seemed Greeves had straightened his attitude, for the words sounded properly respectful.

Timothy could not confess to chasing the ghosts. “Going to visit the family for a time.” As he would be in their area, he would likely sleep at the manor when possible. In that moment the realization struck him that he had no idea how far his search might take him, nor how long he might be gone.

“Haven’t seen me mum in months. I don’t get many days off, you know. Tell her hello for me, if you would,” said Greeves.

“Of course, my good man.” As Greeves seemed to be warming to him, Timothy decided to address an issue which had troubled him these last days. “I did not know you were such a dancer. You rather surprised me last week. What . . .” He thought to say
possessed you
but realized that would not win him an honest answer. “What made you decide to ask the lady to dance with you?”

Greeves continued stroking the horse and nickering to him. The man did much better with horses than people. Perhaps he ought to stick to them.

After a moment, Greeves answered. “I thought I might have recognized her. I wanted a closer look.”