Honor & Roses (26 page)

“And yours will be continuing to think she’ll be biddable until you put her away somewhere!”

“Perhaps I’ll keep her around,” he said. “She’s rather interesting, isn’t she?”

“You’ll put her away as agreed,” Myfanwy said haughtily. “Or my cousin will know of it. If we cannot trust you to handle a simple English wife, then how can you manage your part of the plan?”

“Woman, you sound jealous. Cecily poses no threat! She’s a pawn. Once I control her lands, we’ll move forward and fortify the chosen locations. Within six months, the Welsh will have a string of safe properties to shelter and launch raids from, each within a day’s march of its neighbor!”

“Only if everything happens quickly,” she said. “My cousin…”

“You need not harp on the fact that you share the prince’s blood! I’ll do all he says. The west will soon be speaking Welsh—or at the very least paying tribute to them. Stephen is tied up in his little spat with Maud, so neither one will have the attention to deal with another threat until it’s far too late.” His voice changed then. “And you have nothing to fear from the blonde bride. I am under the spell of a certain Welsh witch.”

Myfanwy laughed low in her throat. “Are you? Show me.”

The sounds that next came to Cecily’s ears made her flush with embarrassment. She turned on her heel, intending to flee before she heard anything more scandalous.

As she did, a huge man prevented her escape. The missing guard had returned.

“What are you doing here?” the guard growled, looking at her suspiciously.

“What
are
you
doing here?” she returned, trying to sound imperious. “What’s your business in this part of the castle?”

“I stand guard at my lord’s order,” he grunted, unintimidated. “Now speak up. Why are you lurking by the door?”

“I’m not lurking!”

“What’s going on out here?” Pierce wrenched the door open wide, and his eyes narrowed as he took in the unlikely pair of Cecily and the guard. “What’s happening?” he asked, his voice softening dangerously, like a cat about to pounce.

“I caught her eavesdropping,” the guard said.

“He caught me doing no such thing!” Cecily protested. If Pierce knew what she’d overheard, he’d never let her out of the castle again.

“No? What, then, were you doing, my lady?”

“I came here to tell you that I will not… I will not tolerate that…
woman
remaining here. She attacked me! I cannot live in such a place. I will go home, my lord, before I allow that leman to be present.”

Myfanwy joined Pierce, wrapping her arms around his waist, but staring hard at Cecily.

Cecily glared back. “Leave us. I came to speak with my husband to be.”

“Then why did you not come in?” Myfanwy asked. “Why hover at the door?”

“I didn’t come in because I heard
you
in his chambers!” Cecily burst out. “It’s scandalous! And you,” she went on, pointing at the guard. “If you had been at your station instead of…wherever you were, I would not have happened upon the scene at all. This is your fault!”

Very real tears ran down her cheeks. They were born of frustration and fear, but to the others, she must have seemed completely out of sorts.

“Calm yourself, my lady. You heard nothing else?” Pierce asked warily.

“What else did I need to hear, but this woman inciting you to sin?” Cecily said, wiping the tears from her face. “How little you value this marriage contract. I knew it was a farce the moment I arrived, but this removes all doubt.” She turned to walk away.

Pierce reached out to halt her. “A moment, my lady.”

“So you can laugh at me? At my naïve hopes for a happy marriage?”

“I’m not laughing, Cecily.”

“I am,” Myfanwy said, a smirk on her face.

Pierce whirled around. “Leave us,” he ordered his leman.

Myfanwy’s smirk changed to surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You are excused. Leave me. I will speak to my lady.”

“You forget…” Myfanwy began.

“You forget whose castle you’re in!” he roared.

Myfanwy stared at him, silenced.

“Take Myfanwy to the solar,” Pierce told the guard. “I do not require your service now. Particularly since you seem to leave your post whenever you care to. Go!”

The two left. Pierce turned back to Cecily and spoke more calmly. “Let’s talk. Come inside.”

“I would prefer not to,” she whispered.

“I will not shock you or shame you, Cecily,” he said. “But I do say we will talk. Come. No arguments.”

She allowed herself to be led into the room, averting her gaze from the massive bed with its rumpled bed coverings.

Pierce led her to a seat by the window, on a little wooden bench that was cushioned in velvet. He offered her wine, but she refused, remembering the last time.

He studied her for a moment, his eyes dark and unreadable. She expected his first question would be about what she’d overheard. But he surprised her. Again.

“Cecily,” he began. “The situation with Myfanwy is…complicated.”

He thought her greatest concern was the mistress? Well, she should act as if it was.

“It seems simple enough to me,” Cecily said, feeling her way forward. “She is your lover and you have no intention of putting her aside, no matter how poorly it reflects on me.”

“Men keep lovers. No one thinks twice on it.”

“I do!”

“You have been very sheltered.”

“So I find.” She looked out the window. Lord, she longed to be outside the castle walls. “We are not well matched.”

“I disagree.”

She looked back at him. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’m marrying you, Cecily. It has been decided. Do you think I’ll change my mind?”

He wouldn’t change his mind because he wanted her lands,
her
lands specifically, to help the Welsh invade.

“My lord,” she said, thinking frantically, “we have a contract. I do not deny my uncle’s choice. But perhaps we ought to take some more time before the wedding. To get to know each other.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “A courtship?”

“Would that be so intolerable?”

“Paying court to you would not be intolerable, my lady. But in this case…what is its purpose? You’ll get to know me. But it will be after the wedding, which will take place on Lammas Night, just as agreed. As you say, we have a contract.”

She sighed. “And Myfanwy?”

“What of her?” Pierce asked. “Will you order me to send her away?”

“You will not listen to such a plea.” She paused. “But if you think of me with any pity at all, you will be more discreet.”

He knelt in front of her, the picture of a considerate lover. “That’s all, my lady? That’s your request?”

“It’s the only one in my power to make,” Cecily confessed, hating the fact.

He surveyed her, an odd expression crossing his face. Finally, he said, “Do you play chess?”

Another of Pierce’s odd leaps from serious to seemingly trivial.

“I do play,” she said. “Though I cannot imagine the relevance of chess to our discussion now.”

“I assure you there is a link. You’re far more intriguing than I expected, Cecily. Most women would pout and scream till I made a promise to their liking. Yet just now, you recognized your options and stated your mind coolly. That is a lady to be reckoned with.”

“And you wish to reckon with me over chess?” she asked.

“Among other things,” he said. “Still, there is a special joy in learning your opponent’s mind game by game. What is the lady Cecily’s strategy, I wonder.”

“I’d be mad to tell you before we play,” she said.

“I wouldn’t want you to. I like a surprise, and I look forward to our first match,” he said. “And don’t worry. Myfanwy’s hold on me is not as enduring as it may seem. Perhaps when you win a game of chess by taking my queen, I’ll send Myfanwy away. How would that be for an incentive to play?”

“You do not think I’ll win against you,” Cecily guessed.

“Very few people do,” he admitted. “But you, my lady. With time, you might be a match for me.”

Cecily vowed that would never be the case, in chess or in life.

* * * *

Cecily excused herself, saying she needed to rest. Pierce let her go with a smile, though she felt his eyes on her as she left the room.

Cecily hoped she convinced Pierce that she had not overheard his plans regarding an invasion. But Pierce was nothing if not careful. He’d think things over and ultimately decide that Cecily was a risk. She had little time to escape the castle—an hour or two at most. She had to find Alric.

But Alric proved difficult to locate. She could hardly scream for him, or let anyone know the urgency of her search. She asked a maid as offhandedly as she could, and then a servant. No one in the great hall knew where he’d gone. Rafe was in the middle of some discussion among the local garrison, and she didn’t dare draw attention to herself.

At last, she remembered how Alric always sought heights when he wanted to be alone. He’d climb the bell tower or the parapets at Cleobury. He must be doing so now.

She found the door to the highest tower, and climbed the stairs, flight after flight, till her legs protested. At the top, she found Alric.

He stood facing south, toward the Ardenwood. The sun illuminated every leaf, turning the forest into some sort of fantastic carpet from Persia.

“I should have guessed you’d be up here. Are you alone?” she asked.

“Except for you, yes.” He looked around. “Which means I should leave.”

“Wait!” She stepped out onto the parapet walk and then pulled the door shut. “Alric, I must speak to you. I’ve just learned something terrible.”

“What is so terrible?”

“Treason,” she whispered.

That got his attention. “What did you say?” he asked her in a low voice.

“Listen to me. We don’t have much time. When I went to Pierce’s room, I overheard a conversation between Pierce and Myfanwy.”

Cecily glanced back at the door. She kept her voice as quiet as she could.

“She is not just his leman. She’s a messenger from the Welsh prince. Pierce wants to control the manors I’ll inherit, and access to my dowry in order to pay for mercenaries. He’s planning to ally with the Welsh and take an army into England. A raid on a scale unheard of before. Pierce plans to seize control of all the territory he can.”

“That’s mad.” Alric shook his head.

“It’s true!” she insisted, stepping closer. “We have to tell the king, so he can send troops to protect the borders. Pierce has sworn to uphold King Stephen, but what he’s involved in doesn’t benefit the Empress Maud either. This is for himself. This is treason.”

“If what you’re saying is true, we’ll return to Cleobury. The matter can be investigated, and the wedding can be delayed.”

“No,” she said urgently. “That’s the other part. If I understood correctly, Theobald is working
with
Pierce to create a line of strategic points to assist a Welsh invasion. That’s why I was the marriage contract.”

“How so?”

“From Malvern Castle in the north, down to Cleobury in the south, the Welsh will have a number of friendly outposts to hide and resupply. That’s why Theobald was so eager to fortify Cleobury. He expects the Welsh to arrive—but as allies, not foes.”

Alric stood still, but didn’t say anything.

“You believe me?”

“Cecily,” he said slowly, “you’ve been against this marriage from the beginning. Is it possible…?”

“I’m not dreaming it. Alric, you of all people have to believe me. I give you my
word
that it’s true.”

He nodded. “Then I give you my word that I’ll get you away from here. I’ll carry you through the gate myself if it comes to that.”

“Oh, thank you!” Cecily flung her arms around him. “Thank you for believing me.”

“I trust your word.” He held her close, his breath teasing her skin. “Cecily, when we leave here—”

Footsteps sounded on the tower stairs, and Alric quickly stepped away from Cecily, a warning in his eyes. They couldn’t be seen as a couple.

The door was flung open. Cecily expected an angry guard—so did Alric, to judge by how he kept a hand on the hilt of his poniard. But it was the maid Yvota.

“My lady!” the maid gasped, out of breath. “I am bid to find you. Agnes is ill, and begs you come to her!”

“Agnes?” she echoed. Could the day get worse? “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know!” Yvota said. “I only know that she calls for you.”

“Go,” Alric said from where he stood by the wall. “Go to Agnes. We can talk later, my lady. You have my word.”

She nodded gratefully, catching the extra meaning in his voice. Then she rushed to follow the maid back down the tower steps.

She took the stairs as quickly as her long skirts allowed. Cecily reached the courtyard, intent on running straight to her guest chambers.

But she ran directly into Lord Pierce. He was smiling, but he was flanked by two guards.

“Excuse me, my lord. I must go to Agnes!”

“Your servant is quite well,” he said.

“But Yvota…” Cecily trailed off.

The young maid stood off to the side, eyes on the ground. “I am sorry, my lady. I said what I was told.”

“So you did, girl. Off with you now.” Pierce made a gesture, and Yvota fled.

“Now that I’ve got you, my lady,” he said, letting concern color his face, “I must keep you safe. Did you not say you intended to rest?”

“I needed some air, my lord.”

“What you need is solitude,” he said, drawing her near with his arm. “Let me escort you to your room. I would never forgive myself if my bride was less than radiant on her wedding day.”

Cecily made a wordless murmur—what could she say? Pierce was all chivalry and kind attention as he walked her along. But she had no illusions. He had guessed what she overheard. Her guest chambers were now a prison. She’d be kept under watch every moment until the wedding.

Her only chance of escape lay with Alric, and he was the last person they’d ever let near her now.