Desire (39 page)

"In good time, Sir Robert, in good time. Death always comes soon enough for most." Gareth motioned for the guards to take the knights back to their makeshift prison.

Ulrich clasped his hands behind his back and waited until the hall was empty once more. Then he looked at Gareth. "Do you wish to question the bowmen we caught at the harbor, my lord?"

"Nay. There is nothing new to be learned from them. They are typical of their kind. Freebooters who hired themselves out to the magician on the promise of easy plunder."

"Masterless men."

"Aye." Gareth got to his feet. "Men without villages or families."

"Such men are always dangerous. Best to hang them quickly and be done with it."

"Aye." Gareth walked to a nearby table where he had spread out an assortment of items that he and Dalian had discovered in Lucretius de Valemont's cloak. "Have you seen this yet, Ulrich?"

"Nay." Ulrich crossed to the table. He looked down at the handful of tiny slivers of metal floating in a bowl of water. "What are they?"

"Dalian tells me that de Valemont called them his iron fish. Watch." Gareth dipped a finger into the water and spun the small iron slivers in a circle. When the water settled, so did the iron fish. "Notice that they are pointing in the same direction in which they pointed before I disturbed the water."

Ulrich frowned. "What of it?"

"They are pointing north, my friend. Always north. It is the mysterious device the magician used to guide his hired thieves to the isle in the fog. He would have used it again to make his escape."

"Iron fish?"

"I heard of such a few years ago," Gareth said. "I read about them again in Sir Humphrey's book. But this is the first time I have actually seen a device that uses them. Amazing, is it not?"

"Aye." Ulrich stabbed a finger into the water and ruffled the surface of the liquid. He watched, fascinated, as the slivers realigned themselves. "Most interesting."

"Sir Humphrey's book says that the invention comes from China. As does the recipe for the sulfur and charcoal powder that we used to route de Valemont's men."

"What of these other objects?" Ulrich picked up a round, polished sphere.

"A mirror. Dalian says de Valemont used it to signal messages to his men on occasion." Gareth picked up a ring of oddly shaped keys. "He used these to open locks of all kinds."

"Ah. So that is how he got through the convent gates and into the library."

"Aye." Gareth dropped the keys back onto the table. "And how he managed to relock the recluse's cell after he had carried her body back into it."

"This is all quite interesting, sir, and knowing you, I'm sure you will be occupied for days playing with the magician's bag of tricks. But what am I to do about our prisoners in the meantime? Shall I see that they are dispatched immediately?"

"Nay. Hold off awhile longer. I may think of some more questions to ask them."

Gareth was aware of Ulrich's amused gaze resting on him as he walked out of the hall. As usual, he did not comprehend the jest.

The fog that had shrouded the isle for the past two days had finally cleared. The courtyard was humming with activity.

William and Dalian dashed to and fro, carrying out Eadgar's instructions and assisting the servants. As he went down the steps, Gareth saw two of his men-at-arms come through the open gate. They were laden with armfuls of fresh flowers. The sight of his hardened warriors buried in blossoms made him

grin briefly.

His amusement faded as he crossed the courtyard to Clare's workrooms.

He could have forced her to return to the bed last night, of course. He was a lot bigger and a lot stronger than she was. It would have been a simple matter to fetch her out of the wardrobe. But he had been too

annoyed to do so. He had told himself that a night spent on the hard floor, wrapped in a quilt, would teach her a lesson.

It was unfortunate that the serving maid had entered the wardrobe chamber earlier than usual. Clare had still been sound asleep.

Gareth had been awake, however. To his disgust, he had slept little during the night. Three times he had wandered into the wardrobe to adjust the quilt over Clare's shoulders.

It was one thing to let her sleep on the hard stone floor. It was another to let her take a chill. He had no intention of allowing her to risk her health while she did battle with him. He had a duty as a husband to see to it that she did not become ill through her foolish actions.

This morning she was astonishingly calm about the open warfare which she had more or less declared. She acted as if she had already won and was merely waiting for him to concede defeat.

Gareth wondered if she realized that he had never surrendered to anyone in his entire life.

He reached the first of the long series of workrooms and stepped into the open doorway. The scent of flowers, vanilla, and mint hit him like a soft pillow in the face.

"Clare?"

"In here, my lord," Clare called from the adjoining chamber.

Gareth walked through the mixing room into the drying room. He saw her standing at one of the wide tables. Something inside him twisted with yearning.

He had come close to losing her yesterday. The last thing he wished to do today was argue with her. He sighed. He knew better than to show weakness.

Clare held a handful of dried flowers to her nose. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on the fragrance. Sunlight streamed through the window behind her, creating a golden halo around her graceful figure.

She was the most wonderful thing in his life, Gareth thought. She had given him a home.

He shook off the strange blend of emotions that he did not fully comprehend and went toward her.

"What are you doing?" he asked, more for something to say than any real curiosity.

"I'm mixing a special pomander for the abbess." Clare opened her eyes. "A very complex recipe that will be hers alone. Do you think she will appreciate it?"

"I'm certain she will." Gareth hesitated. "The household is in an uproar."

"She will be here any day now. Mayhap even this afternoon."

"Uh, Clare, I know you're very excited about this visit."

"I certainly am. Abbess Helen has been most gracious to me in her letters. I am eager to repay her kindness."

"Mayhap I should tell you—"

"Have you freed the prisoners, my lord?"

"Nay."

"I know you'll do the right thing before the day is out."

"Hell's teeth, woman, hanging them is the right thing."

"Not in this case. Have you taken a close look at Lucretius's knights? They are not much older than Dalian."

"Well, what about those professional thieves Ulrich captured at the harbor?" Gareth retorted. "They cannot be excused by reason of youth. One of them is forty, if he's a day. He's made a lifetime career out of robbing people."

"Aye, but if we are going to free the others, we may as well free him. I do not want even one corpse hanging above my beautiful flowers."

"Clare, you're a woman and you have led a rather sheltered life here on Desire. If you—" Gareth broke off as voices rose outside.

"Lady Clare, Lady Clare, your guests have arrived," a servant called. "Lady Joanna said to tell you to come quickly."

"Abbess Helen is here." Clare opened her fingers and let the dried flowers drop back into the bowl.

"Clare, wait." Gareth reached for her as she sailed past him. He missed.

Clare rushed out through the door into the courtyard. "Joanna? Where is the abbess? Mayhap she will stop first at the convent to meet with the prioress. By Saint Hermione's girdle, we are not ready. I wanted all to be in perfect order when she got here."

Gareth walked slowly out of the drying shed and found Ulrich standing nearby. Together they surveyed the busy scene.

"The abbess is here?" Gareth asked.

"Aye. She came over from Seabern with an escort a short while ago. One of the men just rode up from the village with the news."

"An escort?" Gareth raised an inquiring brow.

"It seems that Thurston of Landry and three of his knights just happened to be traveling in the same direction as the abbess. They offered to provide protection for her and her retainers. The entire crowd should be here any minute."

"Just what I needed," Gareth said.

A screech of dismay rose above the commotion in the courtyard. Gareth glanced at Clare, who was gesticulating wildly with her hands.

"What do you mean, Thurston of Landry is on his way here?" Clare yelled at Joanna. "Tis impossible. He cannot be here."

"Calm yourself, Clare," Joanna said. "We shall manage."

Clare scowled furiously. "How dare Lord Thurston do this to me? Has he no consideration? I am entertaining an abbess tonight; I cannot be bothered with a stupid baron."

"We shall manage," Joanna said soothingly.

"Nay, 'tis simply not possible. He has ruined everything. How am I to deal with my father-in-law when I am trying to entertain a great abbess?"

"An excellent question under the circumstances," Gareth observed to Ulrich.

"You're smiling, my lord. You know it makes me uneasy when you smile." Ulrich hesitated. "What about the prisoners?"

"You had better hold them in the cellar for another day or so. There is too much chaos around here as it is. Hanging a bunch of thieves would no doubt create even more of an uproar."

"Aye," Ulrich said. "It should prove to be an interesting evening."

Shouts from the watchtower and a cloud of dust heralded the arrival of the company and a host of retainers.

"They're here," someone yelled. "The abbess and Thurston of Landry are at the gates."

Clare stalked over to Gareth. "This is really too much. The least your father could have done was send word that he intended to pay a visit."

"I suspect he made his decision on the spur of the moment when he learned that the abbess was on her way to Desire."

"But why would he do that? It makes no sense." Clare broke off as the riders clattered through the gates.

There was a general air of confusion as servants rushed to take the horses' heads.

"Come along, Clare. We must greet our guests." Gareth took her arm and started forward.

"That lady on the palfrey is the abbess." Clare's disgruntled expression gave way to renewed enthusiasm. "She appears to be in excellent health."

"She generally is."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind." Gareth watched as Thurston dismounted and gallantly went to assist the abbess. The pair turned to meet their host and hostess.

"My Lady Abbess." Clare rushed forward to kiss the ring of the tall, handsome woman in the Benedictine habit. "Welcome to Desire. We are honored."

"Tis good to see you again, Lady Clare." Abbess Helen smiled. "It is always a great pleasure to visit with you. I continue to enjoy our correspondence more than I can say."

"You are too kind." Clare turned with obvious reluctance to Thurston. "My lord, you honor us with your presence."

The frost in her voice appeared to amuse Thurston. "I have been looking forward to meeting you again after all these years, Lady Clare."

"What a pity you did not send word so that we could have prepared a proper reception," Clare muttered.

Thurston kissed her hand with the easy grace he always displayed around women. "My apologies. It was a sudden decision on my part. Allow me to tell you that I am pleased to learn that my son met your requirements in a husband."

"Aye, well, I was not quite certain that he would do, at first, but as it happens he is very well suited to the position."

"I had hoped that would be the case."

Gareth watched with satisfaction as Clare impatiently withdrew her hand from his father's grasp. Few women were immune to Thurston of Landry's charm. Clare appeared utterly oblivious to it.

Clare's brows drew together in a sharp frown. "My lord, I do not wish to be rude, but I must warn you, if you have come to summon Lord Gareth away from Desire for some purpose, you are wasting your time."

"I am?"

"Aye, you cannot have him. He is needed here at home. You sent him to me and I must insist upon being allowed to keep him. There is a great deal to be done around here. This isle has not had a proper lord for years."

"I see." Thurston gave Gareth an amused sidelong glance.

"If you wish this manor to remain profitable . . ." Clare paused meaningfully, "mayhap even increase its profits, then you will have to let Sir Gareth remain with us."

A smile edged Thurston's mouth. "I assure you, madam, I certainly do not wish to interfere in any way with increasing profits."

"Well, that settles that, then." Clare looked relieved. "I suppose we can find room for you and your men."

"Thank you. That is very kind of you, madam."

Gareth recalled something Nicholas of Seabern had aid to him at the spring fair. She'll be grateful when you have. She has no use for a husband.

Nicholas was wrong, Gareth thought. Clare wanted him to stay here on Desire. And not just because she found him useful. She loved him. A joyous elation shot through him.

Clare turned eagerly back to Abbess Helen. "My lady, you will no doubt wish to refresh yourself after your long journey. Your chambers are prepared."

"Thank you." Abbess Helen's voice was low and husky. It resonated with quiet power.

Clare glowered at Gareth. "You have not welcomed our lady Abbess properly, my lord."

"Very true." Gareth took the abbess's proffered hand and looked down into the gray eyes that were reflections of his own. "Welcome to Desire, Mother."

* * *

Clare stormed up and down the length of her chamber while Eunice attempted to dress her.

"His mother. I cannot believe it, Joanna. Abbess Helen is his lady mother. This is so embarrassing. How could he do this to me?"

"I suspect Lord Gareth did not want you to know of his relationship to the abbess just yet." Joanna watched as Eunice darted in close to Clare and dropped a saffron-bellow gown over her head.

"Whyever not?" Clare struggled to get her face free of the folds of the gown. It settled into place. Eunice