Rexanne Becnel (22 page)

Still, he’d always been gentle with her, she thought as she recalled his tenderness and the warmth of his caress.

But that was all lies, she reminded herself harshly. She slid from the high bed and paced the room on bare feet. It didn’t matter what Corbett of Colchester did now, she could not idly accept her father’s murder. He might consider it an eye for an eye, but what he’d done was plain murder.

She would have Sir Dunn and all the other Colchester followers thrown in the dungeon. Then she would prepare the castle against her husband’s return. Orrick was well provisioned; they could withstand a lengthy siege if need be.

If only Aldis was here, or even Santon, she fretted. But at least William was there for support. He disliked Corbett intensely. Surely he would aid her in this plot. Relieved at that thought, she turned back to the bed only to step squarely on her cast-off wedding ring.

She gasped in pain. Then she kicked at the offensive jewel. Once more it clattered across the hard floor, coming to rest somewhere beneath the raised bed.

Only partially mollified, Lilliane clambered back onto the high mattress. It was cold and dark in her room as she lay there, longing for the peace of sleep. Her father was dead; her husband was a murderer. She was now the one who must keep the people and lands of Orrick safe.

It was a terrifying thought, and yet she knew she had no alternative. She did not know what the future held: not how she would overpower Sir Dunn, nor how she would repel Sir Corbett.

In desperation she clasped her hands tightly together. “Dear God,” she whispered to the dark, silent room. “Please help me!”

O
N THE FIFTH DAY
after Lord Barton’s burial, Corbett and his men were sighted. In an instant the castle was in an uproar of preparation. From the fields and the village everyone in Orrick responded to the tolling of the alarm bell.

Lilliane ran as quickly as she could to the gatehouse. South of the village she could see the knights were at least a league from the castle, yet she had a dreadful foreboding. Despite all the planning she and William had done, she felt unprepared for this confrontation. Corbett would not take this easily—she knew that. He would use every weapon at his disposal to take back Orrick.

But what could he do! she reasoned as she watched the villagers streaming up the hill to the castle. He had only a small group of knights with him. All the rest of his fighting men were securely locked in the donjon beneath the north tower of Orrick.

How furious Sir Dunn had been, she recalled with an unpleasant shiver. No matter William’s accusations and her pointed questions, he had maintained his innocence adamantly. But he’d certainly appeared capable of murder as he’d glowered wrathfully at her.

Remembering his vow that they would never keep Corbett out of the castle, her brow creased in concern. She was not reassured even when William joined her at the battlement.

“Sir Corbett has been bested this time,” William boasted, a grin lighting his smoothly handsome face.

“I would not celebrate too quickly,” Lilliane muttered. Then she sighted two riders leaving the village at a hard gallop.

“Dear God, who is that so far ahead of the rest of them?” She gasped, but she knew—even as she asked the question she knew.

“Raise the bridge! Close the gates!” William shouted, then spat a foul stream of curses for he too recognized the massive lead rider.

Lilliane could not move as she watched Corbett’s rapid approach. He had ridden ahead of the rest of his men. But why? Had he known what she was doing? Had he ridden ahead just to surprise her and foil her plan? If so, he’d come very near to doing just that, she realized as the bridge over the moat finally began to inch upward.

But if he’d known the castle would be closed to him, would he and his men have come riding in so boldly at midday? Wouldn’t they have been more covert and cautious?

A frown creased Lilliane’s brow as she watched her husband. He had clearly been surprised to see the ancient bridge once more being raised against him. As his horse thundered down the last stretch of the hard, gravelly road, the villagers who were now locked out of the castle fled into the fields. When he brought his powerful destrier to a stiff-legged halt at the moat’s bank, Lilliane could feel the fury that emanated from him. It took all her strength not to cringe behind one of the battlements.

But she was a daughter of Orrick, she told herself. And she was right in turning him away. Still, a quiver of fear coursed down her spine as she gazed at the glowering form of her husband.

“Ha! We have him now!” William crowed as he leaned over the battlement.

“You’d best let me deal with him,” Lilliane interrupted. “We can’t know what revenge he might take against those who aid me.”

At that William quickly stepped back from the embrasure. “’Tis unlikely he’ll be in a position to take any revenge.” But he sounded more sullen than boastful.

“He is still well favored by Edward,” Lilliane murmured uneasily. She watched the second rider reach Corbett’s side. “We can only hope that King Edward will not condone such a foul crime as murder.”

After conferring briefly with Corbett, the other rider departed as quickly as he’d come. To rally the trailing knights, Lilliane suspected. Her heart was fast sinking as she stared at her husband, so composed as he still sat his steed at the abrupt end of the road. As his silence continued her nerves seemed to stretch almost to breaking. Then his eyes swept the crenellated battlements until they found her.

Lilliane swallowed convulsively as his eyes locked with hers. She thought she’d remembered the force of that stare and the strength of will behind it. But her memories paled next to the reality of it. Then he addressed her and it was as if no one was there but the two of them.

“Lower the bridge, Lily,” he ordered.

A hush settled over the entire castle as he awaited her response.

“Orrick is closed to you. Go away.” Although her voice rang out clearly, she trembled from head to foot.

“Orrick is mine by dint of marriage to you. Do you forget so quickly that we are man and wife?”

At that arrogant reminder her composure fled. “I forget nothing! Most especially I do not forget the murder of my father!”

When he seemed taken aback by her accusation, she was even more incensed. “Are you so surprised then that we found you out? Have you nothing to say for yourself?” she snapped sarcastically. “At the least I expected a very clever profession of innocence.”

Corbett’s dark-gray stare had not wavered from her at all. When he spoke his very calmness disturbed her even more. “This is a subject better discussed in private, Lily. Your father particularly understood such matters.”

“My father is dead at the hand of your hireling!” she cried, sobbing. “You’re the only one to gain from that!”

“His death gained me nothing that I did not already have. Most certainly I would not leave my man to do such a task. Had I wanted him dead, it would have been done by my own hand!”

“Liar! Liar!” she screamed.

“Come away, Lilliane.” William placed an arm protectively around her. “You need not deal with him any longer.”

Corbett did not outwardly appear to react to William’s unexpected presence, nor to his solicitous handling of Lilliane. But she sensed his fury at once. Like an impending storm, it filled the air between them with a crackling intensity. She shook William’s arm off with a nervous gesture then turned to cast some final accusing remark at her tensed husband.

It was then that she saw the rest of his men approaching. Spread out like a fan across the meadow, they herded the hapless villagers before them. Slowly but relentlessly they forced the villagers into a large cluster just beyond Corbett. Although he did not turn to view the deed, Lilliane knew he was sure of what was happening. She was certain it had been his idea, and he trusted his men to see his every whim carried out.

“What—what is it you plan to do?” Lilliane asked fearfully, her voice thin in the silence that gripped the castle.

His eyes were steady upon her and she imagined she saw a bitter smile twist his lips. “I plan to enter Orrick, have a bath, and eat an excellent meal.” He paused. “Lower the bridge, Lily.”

There was a terrible silence.

“And if I do not?” Her voice trembled despite her every effort to sound calm.

His face grew harder. Then he turned to face the tightly bunched villagers. “Whosoever of you is oldest, step forward now.”

There were murmurs and much shuffling among the poor group. Then two slight forms separated from the rest and Lilliane cried out in horror. Thomas had finally returned from his journey to visit his son, but at what a terrible time. And he was joined by Mother Grendella!

“What are you doing?” Lilliane called down, truly frightened now.

“I’m not doing anything. Yet.” Corbett smiled grimly up at her. “The next move is yours, my lady wife.”

It was Lilliane’s first inclination to seek her father out. But with the fresh realization that she could never do that again, a new and terrible fear swept over her. Corbett of Colchester sat before her, mocking her poor attempt at opposing him, and she knew she could do nothing about it. He held the lives of Thomas and Grendella and so many others as a threat before her. Her wide frightened eyes met his again and she sought desperately to find some chink in his hard demeanor, some sign of compassion in his fierce expression. This was the same man who had been so tender to her. But he was also the man everyone called the king’s Bird of Prey. He was a harsh, brutal knight, and he was determined to best her.

A sob caught in her throat as she broke away from his intense stare. But William blocked her path.

“Don’t give in to him, Lilliane.” He gripped her shoulders.

“And then what? Watch as he slaughters my people?”

“He’ll do it anyway. If you let him in, what’s to stop him from doing anything he wants?”

Lilliane backed out of William’s grasp. Her amber eyes were damp with tears. “I can’t believe he would go that far. They’re just innocent villagers. He has no quarrel with them—”

“Was your father guilty of anything? No! But he died anyway! Do you truly believe Colchester places any value on a handful of pitiful old villagers?”

“He may not. You are right in that. But
I
value them. And I’ll not see them slaughtered. Not now. Not ever.” With that she lifted her skirts and hurried out of the gatehouse toward the captain of the guard.

By the time the bridge was down, Lilliane was in the bailey. She stood alone, waiting for Corbett’s entrance. What would follow she did not know. But she had instructed the guards to stand well back and offer no symbol of opposition. It was her last hope that her husband would take no reprisals against anyone but herself. And she was prepared to endure those reprisals, no matter what they were. She would endure and some day, in some manner, she would have revenge on him for his mounting list of crimes against Orrick.

There was an unearthly quiet in the bailey. Only a capricious wind that tugged at her heavy caddis skirt and neatly coiffed hair interrupted the stillness. When Corbett entered the castle, his men close upon his heels, Lilliane was reminded of his first arrival at Orrick. Like then, the entire populace was intimidated by the powerful knight and his arrogant manner.

But Lilliane’s apprehension of that other day was as nothing compared to this deep-seated dread. If he’d seemed fierce and brawny then, he appeared absolutely invincible now.

He rode his destrier straight toward her. It seemed every last person in the bailey caught his breath in anticipation and dread. Given a choice of feeling fear or anger, Lilliane much preferred the latter. But she could not prevent a shiver of fear snaking down her spine as she raised furious eyes to him. As was so often his wont, he did not speak at once. In the uncomfortable silence his eyes swept over her. Unwillingly her own gaze roamed him, noting his dusty, travel-worn appearance and the ill-disguised weariness in his face. But his eyes, gray as granite, were sharp and as discerning as ever. For a moment they darkened, and she thought she saw a smoldering light deep within their hooded recesses. Then his lips lifted in a chilling smile.

“I want a bath and a meal. Also, see to my men’s needs.” He shifted his weight and the leather saddle creaked beneath him. “And heed this warning, my sweet wife. You have been nothing but trouble so far. You’d best consider proving your value as a wife.”

“Or what?” Lilliane challenged, but in little more than a whisper. “Shall you be as easily rid of me as you were of my father?”

He straightened up at that, but his scar darkened as he frowned. “See to your duties,” he ordered curtly as he turned his steed from her. “Then return to our chamber and await me there.”

It was worse than if he had punished her outright. She did not dare cross him, for she feared his vengeance if not against her, then most surely against her people. Yet to meekly submit to his selfish orders was galling indeed.

As she hurried about her tasks, ordering the water heated for the tubs and food prepared for the table, her emotions veered between overwhelming anger and a sinking desperation. Her efforts had been for nothing. Her father was still dead and Corbett had control of Orrick, just as he’d planned from the beginning.

There was no conversation in the kitchen as she made a cursory check of the trays of cold sliced meats and the baskets of breads. Two men pulled the creaking ale cart behind them as the silent column of servants made their way to the great hall.

But Lilliane refused to follow them into the hall. That she just could not do. Using a narrow back stair, she made her way up the musty passage to the tower room, there to await the wrath of her husband. She did not doubt his fury, for all his well-contained appearance. Still, at least Thomas and the others were safe, she thought. William was the only other person she feared might taste Corbett’s vengeance. If only he had not lingered here, she fretted. But although Verone fared a little better, there could be no moving her until well after the birth of the babe. Lilliane paced the room nervously. If Corbett punished William, it might have dire effects on Verone’s frail health. And there was the babe to consider as well.