Forbidden Magic (28 page)

"Then—"

"Clutched in my father's hand was a gem, a necklace that belonged to Lady Sigrid, Amery's mother."

"But Jewel, 'tis not enough," Anne pleaded.

"In itself... nay, it is not. Thou didst not know my father, so I will tell thee of his stubbornness. He did not like England being without a king though the Crusade was a noble cause. He would not have parted easily with money to free a foolish king and any who demanded it of him would have to have vowed that once King Richard returned he would remain. I know of no one who could pledge it. Therefore, my father died for saying nay."

"It could have been another who took his life ... someone else who came with open hand."

Drawing tiny circles with her fingertip in the velvet cloth she held, Jewel whispered, "Then how came he to have the stone in his hand if it had not been torn from his executioner's neck?"

Anne knew no answer and fell quiet, her heart aching for the pain she knew Jewel suffered. If only she could ease it some, she would. "Speak with Amery," she whispered, rushing on when Jewel looked up with a frown. "Hear him tell it, then decide, but do not condemn him before he has his say."

"You speak as if you think I love him." Jewel laughed though the smile did not shine in her eyes. "I do not. Nor does he care at all for me. He has said before that it matters naught to him what I think, and I will not go to him on bended knee begging for the truth."

"But you listen with closed ears, Jewel."

"Nay," she replied quietly, studying the fire once more. "I simply do not listen."

"Would you believe if Gunther spoke the words?"

"And if he told me that Amery was innocent, and I believed, would it take the aching from my heart? My family is dead and I would still be here against my will." Smiling halfheartedly, she looked back at Anne. "So do not trouble yourself. We can do naught to change all this."

"But if Amery knew you did not blame him for what happened, he would let you return to your home."

"Nay, I think not, Anne. Amery does not trust women. In truth, he hates them. I could never convince him that I no longer laid the blame on his shoulders .. . even if it were so."

Frustrated and feeling completely helpless, Anne pressed her fingertips to her temples, frantically searching for an answer. When she spoke again, it was more to herself than to Jewel. "But how can the vows of wedlock be pledged when both feel as the two of you?"

"There will be no marriage. We have agreed."

Anne looked up in surprise. "But—"

"Our fathers sought the union. They are dead. 'Twould be a dishonor to my father's name if I married the man who killed him. So speak no more of it, Anne. 'Twould be a waste of words."

Tears of compassion formed in Anne's eyes as she watched the woman next to her. She was too young to feel so much hatred, such hopelessness. It was as if her life had ended with her family's. Was there something she could say that would ease the hurting? She sat quietly for a moment, contemplating what it might be, when suddenly she felt a tug on her sleeve. Turning, she saw Ella standing next to her, a thick smudge of grape marmalade around her tiny mouth, and she smiled, a tear stealing down her cheek.

"Oh, Ella, what have you gotten into?" She laughed, picking up the girl. "It looks as if there's more here"—she touched the child's chin, then her round little belly—"and here. Come. We'll scrub your face and make you pretty again." Rising, she looked back at Jewel. "Excuse me for a moment, Jewel, but Ella didn't manage this on her own. I'm certain I won't have to look too hard to find her brothers."

Smiling, Jewel nodded in return and, with a distant look in her eyes, watched the pair cross the room and disappear through a doorway. It had been her dream for several years to have a daughter like Ella, and even a son or two. The smile faded. Glancing down, she spotted the sewing basket on the floor. Perhaps Anne wouldn't mind if she worked on Ella's dress. It would give her something to do and take her mind off her troubles. Finding a needle and the proper thread, she concentrated on the tiny stitches she took, wholly unaware of the vision she created. Silhouetted against the firelight, head down as she bent over her task, she was unaware that her long coppery braid caught the hearth's glow as it cascaded over her shoulder, and, to any who looked at her, it seemed as if she belonged.

"Lady Jewel?"

Glancing up from her work, Jewel smiled back at Hadwin. "I feel I should apologize," he said nervously, studying the chalice he held.

"For what?" Jewel asked, the smile lingering. "For embarrassing you. 'Twas not my place to be so bold with my words. You belong to another and—"

Reaching over to pat the seat of the chair next to her, she said, "Sit and we will talk."

Hadwin's blue eyes widened. "Nay, Lady Jewel, I mustn't. What if Sir Amery—"

"Sir Amery is not here and even if he were, he would have nothing to say about those with whom I talk." She nodded at the chair.

Reluctantly, Hadwin did as she had bidden, sitting stiffly and repeatedly glancing toward the door through which Amery had gone.

"First of all, dear Hadwin," she began, "thou didst not embarrass me. I know few women who do not enjoy a compliment when it is given. I am no exception. 'Tis refreshing to hear a man of noble rank easily tell what is in his thoughts. I thank you for that. And as for Sir Amery . . . well, he and I have decided not to wed. So you see, he has no say in what I do or with whom I speak."

"But..."

"Then why have I come here with him?" Jewel finished, wondering how to shade the truth, for she had no desire to spark the young man's need for rashness in rescuing her. She had told him that she had renounced Amery's right to make her decisions, but she also knew that it would not stop him. If Hadwin tried to help in any way, Amery would see he paid dearly for his foolishness. "He has said that he blames his half brother for many wrongs brought against him. I do not agree since I have known Radolf all my life. Tis a difference of opinion. And therefore, Sir Amery thinks that I would be in danger if I were left at Harcourt without anyone to protect me. "

"From whom? His half brother?"

Jewel shrugged. "Or anyone who wanted to claim Harcourt as his. All those left are serfs. Not a single knight was spared that eve my father died."

Quiet a moment, Hadwin finally admitted, '"Tis wise. I would have done the same."

Inwardly Jewel breathed a sigh of relief, for Hadwin had believed her tale. But she wondered how long he would be satisfied. Given the time to think about it, he would surely wonder why she and Amery shared the same chambers at night. Quickly turning her attention back to her sewing, she frowned, feeling the shame of it tightening her chest. He would think she permitted it. He would call her a whore.

"Good morn, Edric," she heard Hadwin say and looked up to find the boy standing before them, tears glistening in his bright blue eyes.

"Hast thou seen my mother?" he asked, his lower lip quivering.

"Yea," Jewel replied, setting aside her sewing. "She has taken your sister to wash the marmalade from her face. Art thou in pain, Edric? You seem distressed."

Without answering, the boy lifted his hand for her to examine. There, in the palm, she could see a splinter buried beneath the skin, one end protruding just enough that she might grasp it with her nails.

"May I remove it?" she asked tenderly. "I promise thee it will not hurt."

Sniffing back a tear, Edric moved closer, his hand extended for her to take.

"How did this happen, Edric?" she asked, slipping the tip of her nail beneath the edge. Before he could answer, she had pulled it from his hand.

"Anson and I were slaying dragons, Lady Jewel," he said proudly, bracing himself for the pain he was certain he would feel. "The handle of my sword is rough ... art thou certain this will not hurt?"

"Does it hurt now?" She smiled.

"Nay," he replied with a shake of his dark head.

"Then you have nothing to fear. Look . . ." She held up his hand cradled in her own for him to see, and his small chin sagged when he discovered that the splinter had been removed without the slightest twinge of pain. "Now return to your battles, oh gallant knight," she recited playfully, "and slay a dragon for me."

Edric grinned his appreciation, turned, and started off. But before he had traveled very far, he stopped and spun back around. With outstretched arms, he ran to. Jewel, clasped her about the neck, and hugged her tightly to him.

"Thank you, Lady Jewel," he whispered, then bounded off once more before she could reply.

'"Thou hast won the heart of another," Hadwin observed with a grin, watching the young boy skip across the great hall and vanish through a darkened doorway. "Before long, I will have to wait in line."

"Nay, never that." Jewel laughed. "I will always have time to talk with you."

"Then we shall do so again very soon," he agreed. "But for now I must be about my duties. Farewell, Lady Jewel."

Standing, he bowed deeply and strode away.

Jewel watched him go, thinking how some young damsel would find herself a special kind of husband if she chose Hadwin, and suddenly she sensed the attention that someone was paying her. Cautiously, she lowered her gaze and covertly studied those who shared the room. But when each appeared absorbed in his own duties and gave her little notice, she lifted her head and turned toward the wide entry way to the great hall of the castle. Lounging casually against its framework stood Amery, his arms crossed over his chest and a dangerous look in his emerald eyes. Quickly, she cast her own on the sewing basket and hurriedly retrieved Ola's dress from the top. Without delay, she pushed the needle deeply into the cloth, praying he had returned looking for Gunther. She just could not bear the thought of explaining the conversation she and Hadwin had had.

" 'Tis a shame I've already spoken the vows," a deep voice sighed and Amery looked up to find Gunther standing next to him. "She will make a beautiful wife. Hadwin is very fortunate."

"Hadwin is a fool," Amery ground out, then set his gaze on Jewel again. "And so art thou if beauty is the only thing you look for in a wife."

Gunther shrugged. "Mayhap. But what more would a man want of his wife? Tis threatening to have her think on her own. She would cause nothing but trouble. Nay, Jewel will make a perfect mate."

"And thou art blind, Gunther," Amery snorted irritably. "Jewel is far from that. Dost thou think she flirts with Hadwin only to win his attention? Nay, my friend. She is cunning. She will fill his eyes with stars, his head with foolish notions, then lead him on the path she has chosen. She intends to leave us, Gunther, with Hadwin's aid. This is no empty-headed damsel we have taken." A half smile crimped the corner of his mouth. "See the way she concentrates on her task as if nothing else filled her thoughts? Even now she is scheming."

"And what wilt thou do, Amery, to make certain she does not escape us?" Gunther baited. "If she is as crafty as you claim, you will have to keep her by your side at all times ... day and night."

The dark shade of Amery's eyes lightened as he stared at the slender form across the room from him, the thick braid of hair draped over one shoulder, her profile soft and alluring. Lustfully, his gaze traveled the sensuous curves masked in velvet as he remembered the narrow waist, slim hips, and rounded breasts that easily set his blood astir. It had been a simple feat to bend her to his will, yet he felt a wondering tug at him. She had pleased him even in her struggles to be free. What greater satisfaction could she offer if she came willingly? No other damsel had denied him and he had had many from which to choose. And none had ever left him desiring more as this one did. Could it be the reason he had not dismissed her from his thoughts? Or was it simply her presence that aroused his passion?

His walk in the crisp morning air had cleared his thoughts and sealed his conviction that patience would win Wellington back for him. He had decided that Radolf's careless nature would spur him on heedlessly and time would play his foe. His greed would overshadow his moves and poison his reasoning, forcing him to act too soon. He would reveal the truth of what had happened on his own and all Amery had to do was wait. At peace for the first time in a long while, Amery had leisurely strolled back to the manor, intending to eat the food for which he had lost his appetite earlier. But once he had opened the door and gone inside, the need to sate his hunger vanished and was replaced by a very strange, very foreign, emotion, for his gaze had instantly fallen on the trio before the fire: a man, a woman, and a child. He felt as if he had intruded upon a private matter, trespassed upon a concerned family caring for their offspring, and Gunther's words exploded in his mind.

"Hadwin and Jewel... their children ... good onion ... Sir Hadwin of Harcourt... Jewel would do well with him ..."

An unexplainable rage boiled up within him and for an instant he contemplated rushing to them and tearing them apart until the sudden realization that this had been Jewel's plan all along cooled his anger and brought logic to his mind. She wished for him to make a fool of himself—to place doubt in the minds of Gunther's men. He had relaxed then to stare silently and await her attention being drawn his way. She would understand by the look in his eyes that he would not play into her hands.