Heartsong (32 page)

Rhianna nursed the babe and had drifted off with Gwendolyn in her arms when a clamor outside her door pulled her to consciousness. Of a sudden Willa and a strange man stormed into the cottage.

“Get the babe,” Willa ordered.

“Nay,” Rhianna shouted.

“Quiet, slut,” she said and sneered at Rhianna.

Rhianna clutched Gwendolyn to her chest and held her close. “What do you do here? This is my child. Get you from this cottage.”

“Give me the child.”

“I’ll die first,” Rhianna shouted.

The man grabbed her from behind before something hard hit her head. She struggled to hold her babe, but it was no use.

Blackness, deep without feeling, descended, trying to envelop her in the shroud of death.

Willa pulled the child from her arms.

A scream built within her, tearing her apart, ripping the soul from her body. A keening sound of pure torture poured over her. Then there was nothing.

Eighteen

Garrett read the message that had just arrived. Margot had delivered safely. ‘Twas good. His thoughts of pleasure turned swiftly to despair. Richard would be thrilled even if the child was a girl but none of this offered Garrett any peace. Memories returned at the mention of Fiston.

Rhianna should have been there for the birth, there so he could see her, there so he could at least talk to her, find out why she had refused to come to him when he needed her so. Had she tired of him and been afraid to tell him? Questions pelted him like the raindrops from a summer storm.

“Lydon,” he said to the man standing beside him. “We must travel to Fiston. Margot has delivered safely. She has requested I be Godfather to the child. Shall I take Joseph or would you and Edina care to accompany me?”

“Take Joseph. I’ve had my fill of Fiston. Besides, my son is too young to make the journey.”

“I wonder when Richard will return. He would not want to miss the baptism of his daughter.”

“Your sister sent him word?”

“Aye. Margot says here she did. If you’ve no desire to go, tell Joseph we will leave on the morrow. Margot won’t be expecting us so soon, but it will give me a chance to talk to her people. I have yet to question any of them myself. Also, send Arthur to me.”

Lydon nodded and Garrett trudged up the steps to his chamber, his steps heavy. He was glad for Margot, happy for Richard but his own heart ached. What he wouldn’t give for this babe to have been his child. He sighed, defeat and depression besetting him. It was not meant to be.

By first light they were ready to travel. Garrett had Arthur at his side, acting as page.

“You don’t mind the trip?” Garrett asked.

“Nay,” Arthur replied. “Mayhap your sister or one of her people have remembered something more about Rhianna.”

Garrett sighed again, something he found himself doing often these days.

“The people there were questioned many times. You don’t know how much I regret that your brother would not let me travel for months after he took over my care,” Garrett growled. “I doubt there is anything new to learn.”

“I realize that. But, it seems strange she could disappear as if she had never been. I know Rhianna,” Arthur insisted. “She would not tolerate being held captive by anyone. Look how she ran from you. Besides, there has never been any evidence of her death.”

“Leave it be,” Garrett said, swallowing past the lump lodged in his throat. To this day he found it difficult to talk about her, even though she still haunted his nights. Once he retired to his bed, he could not get her face from his mind, the taste of her from his tongue, the feel of her from his body.

A month ago, when Arvel had finally let him travel, he had even gone to Benedick. He feared he was losing his mind, but his friend ensured him his mind was sound.

“It is not your mind I worry about my friend. It’s your soul,” Benedick said.

“I didn’t come for a lecture. I came for advice.”

Benedick smiled. “I have none to give. Aye, I care about you Garrett, but I care more for your soul.”

With nothing resolved, Garrett returned to Knockin still without the peace he sought.

Now he must survive the baptism of Margot’s child. Mayhap if Colvin came, Garrett would be forced to direct his attention toward the danger his brother posed. He’d have to push thoughts of Rhianna into an obscure corner of his mind so he could concentrate on Colvin’s actions. Colvin ‘twas the reason he wanted to get to Fiston as soon as possible. He wanted to be there before Colvin arrived.

Garrett glanced up at the sun. They would reach their destination just at sunset. The darkest part of the night was yet to come, another night he had to survive. Mayhap being in a strange bed, in a strange castle, would make this nighttime easier.

~ * ~

“I don’t care how it looks. Garrett just sent word. He is coming directly. It will take him at least a day to prepare. He can’t arrived before late tomorrow. I have time. Oh, why does he never do what I want? I thought he would at least wait until Richard sent word of his returned.” Margot stomped around her chamber waving the parchment just delivered, her anger radiating in every step she took.

“But, my Lady, you can’t travel to Sanford today. ‘Tis not something done so soon after the birth of a babe. What will the servants think?”

“Silence, Willa. I must go. I will disguise myself, wear something old. Everyone involved will be sworn to secrecy. Because, no one must know I have left the keep. I must rid myself of that baggage before Garrett arrives.”

“Will Colvin take her?” Willa asked.

Margot wanted to laugh at Willa’s question, but her maid had no knowledge of the problems Colvin had caused in his attempts to claim the whore.

“Aye, he will take her. No one will hear of her again.”

Rushing to her trunk, Margot began to rummage through her garments. Willa had the right of it. It would not be proper for her to ride out of Fiston as its lady this soon after the supposed birth of the babe.

Margot snapped to attention. “Is that whelp crying again?”

“Aye. The wet nurse has trouble feeding the child. I think she misses her mother.”

“How? You only took the child this day. If she doesn’t stop that noise, find another wet-nurse. Nay. I will handle this.” Margot stormed from her room toward the chamber occupied by the child and the nurse, Willa flying behind her.

“Give me the child,” Margot demanded as she bustled through the door. She took the infant from the wet-nurse and cuddled her close. Murmuring softly, she rocked the child as she glided through the door.

Back in her chamber, she handed Willa the whimpering babe.

“I did not know you liked children.” Willa took the bundle.

“What can you not like about a tiny, little thing like that? Besides, how would it look if her mother took no interest in her cries?” Margot turned back to her trunk. “Now, you stay here in this chamber. Let no one in and when it’s time for a feed, take the babe to the wet nurse, then bring her back here. It will appear that I am caring for my daughter.”

“On, nay, my Lady.”

“Aye. I will return late tonight under cover of darkness.” She paused. Colvin might hesitate. He did fear Garrett’s wrath. “Or mayhap in the morning. With any luck, Colvin will return with me. While the wet nurse cares for the child, you can arrange rooms for our guests. Tell the servants I just gave the directive. That will make it appear I am still in this chamber.”

“But, my Lady, what if—”

“I must do this,” Margot interrupted. “Garrett can have no hint the woman still occupies land here at Fiston. She must be gone before he arrives.”

Margot draped an ancient cloak over her garments. Colvin had wanted the slut. As long as he took her from Fiston in the morn, he could have her. Margot would say nothing.

~ * ~

Rhianna picked herself off the floor, stumbling to her feet.

“They took her, grabbed her from my arms,” she wailed as Pernith came through the door. Tears streamed down her face.

“We heard your screams. It was you who cried out?” Pernith asked.

“I don’t know.” Rhianna rubbed the bump on her head. She fought the invisible, cutting wound to her heart. “Why? Why did they take my babe?”

“Margot needs a child.”

Before Rhianna could halt the sobs choking her to ask what Pernith meant, the old woman turned to Tom.

“Go. Find out what is going on at the castle. Bring word as soon as you hear anything about the babe. And, Tom, only talk to the servants. No one else.”

Rhianna wobbled to attention.

“If Margot took her, I must go too.”

“Nay,” Pernith grabbed her arm as Rhianna hurtled toward the door. “You must not. We know not what they intend. Tom will listen.”

“I must go,” she sobbed.

“We’ll get her back, but we must wait.”

“Nay,” her cry of agony pounded through her. Why? Why had they taken her babe?

At Pernith’s coaxing, she lay on her cot. Her whole frame shook but she could do nothing to stop the fear, the anger, the hurt throbbing through her. The why of it kept screaming through her head. Why had Margot taken her babe? For indeed Margot was the one organizing this scheme. Surely, Pernith knew there would be no existence for Rhianna without the child.

She no longer sobbed, but she could not stem the tears. The babe needed her. It was time for her feed. How could someone so tiny survive without a mother’s milk, a true mother’s love? The sobs rose again to choke her.

Motherly arms gathered her close.

“Cry, my child. Let it all out. Then we will find a way to recover the babe.”

Rhianna did exactly as Pernith said. She sobbed until her throat was raw and she felt drained.

Rhianna spent the rest of the day sitting before the fire, wiping tears from her eyes, gladly enduring the pain of breasts heavy with milk. Over and over she repeated Pernith’s words. They would recover Gwendolyn. She would once again hold her beloved child in her arms.

When Tom returned darkness was rapidly approaching.

“I have news,” he bounded into the house. “I know a lot.”

“All right, Boy. What do you hear about Margot’s babe?”

“The babe’s in the Lady’s chamber. But the Lady is not in her chamber.” Tom looked around the room and then at Pernith.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

Rhianna caught his words and turned toward the pair. “She isn’t caring for the babe,” she asked

“Nay. She’s not a good mother like you, Rhianna. She rode off, out of Fiston early on. Nobody knows. It’s a secret. But I know. She dressed in old clothes, but I saw her go.”

“How many men went with her?” Pernith asked, her brow furrowed.

“Two,” Tom answered.

“And you do not know where she journeyed?”

He shook his head, then nodded as if confused. “But there is more,” he said bristling with importance.

“Lord Richard came. Everybody had to get busy and I couldn’t ask any more questions. None would say more ‘cause there were knights and horses and flags. It had to be Lord Richard.”

“Did you see him?” Pernith asked.

“Nay, but there were war horses, just like his.” He threw his arms wide. “Lots of them. It were Lord Richard.”

Rhianna stood.

“I’m going to the castle. I have met Richard. He’s kind, compassionate. He’ll listen.”

“Wait,” Pernith put up her arm. “And Margot?”

Tom shook his head. “Nay, the Lady Margot hasn’t come back yet.”

Rhianna stared at Pernith, realizing the old woman never called the Lady of the castle by her title. Nor was she going to question why. She was going to Fiston to see Richard. He would return Gwendolyn. He had to. She rushed out of the cottage, Tom on her heels.

It was several furlongs to Fiston, and Rhianna tried to run but her breasts ached. Tom caught up to her not long after she left the cottage then kept pace with her. When she arrived at the postern, she was exhausted.

“I’ll find Lord Richard,” he said as they entered the grounds.

Rhianna nodded, too breathless to speak. Still she wondered how he knew so much when he was only a child. She waited in the shadows for what seemed an eternity before he reappeared.

“They have finished their meal. The Lady Margot has not returned.”

“Did anyone call the Lord by name?” she asked.

Again he shook his head. “Can’t ask,” he said.

“Nay, you mustn’t ask. But I have to be sure it is not Lord Sanford, Colvin Parrish.”

“‘Tis not him.” In the light of the raising moon Rhianna saw the look of distaste cross his young face.

“You know Lord Sanford?”

“Aye and he’s a devil. He kicked at me once last year when he came. He got dirt in my eyes.”

Then he grinned. “I can’t call him what Pernith calls him.”

“You can tell me.” Rhianna was intrigued. Pernith never mentioned a word about Colvin, but then, neither had she.

“She calls him a whoreson.”

“And you are sure it is not him?”

“Nay. This is Lord Richard. He brought his horses and knights and...”

“It’s all right, Tom. Did you find him?”

“Aye,” Tom pointed toward the rear of the castle. “He’s in the small garden where Lady Margot grows flowers and herbs.”