Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance (14 page)

A smile grew on her lips. She knew just how to do it.

She drank down the last of her ale, then took her empty mug with her, crossing the back of the hall. She leaned down between the two men, offering a broad smile to each. “Is there room here for a third?”

The men rewarded her with large grins, each sliding aside to make room for her between them. She reached forward, pouring her mug full from the pitcher on the table, then raised her ale high. “To new friends.”

“New friends,” they echoed, drinking their ale down.

The next course was brought around, lamb with onions, a mouth-watering fragrance wafting from it. The trio dug in with delight, and Mary found her appetite returning. Another mouthful of ale helped her shoulders relax.

Bronson finally paused long enough to speak. “I’m Bronson,” he announced, “and this here is Sander. We are looking after Lady Lynessa.”

“I saw you come in with her,” agreed Mary. “She seems quite a woman.”

Sander gave a snort. “You can say that again,” he murmured, drinking down his ale.

“How long have you been with her?” Mary took another bite of her lamb.

Bronson glanced up toward the head table. “Oh, we’ve known her for years and years,” he grinned. He turned back to Mary. “So, what is your name?”

“I am Mary.”

His eyes narrowed suddenly, and he leant forward, looking at her more closely. “Mary the singer?”

They had been at the tavern?

Mary could have sworn she had memorized every face which had come and gone in that slimy hell-hole, but somehow these two had escaped her notice. Had they been guards, secreted away in a back room?

There was a movement from across the hall. Michael half-rose from his seat, his eyes intent on her face. She gave a quick shake of her head. There was no way she was going to allow a minor inconvenience like a blown cover slow her down.

Clearly the first step was to gain their trust.

She leant forward against Bronson, pressing her bosom into his arm. “Yes, exactly,” she murmured in a low voice. “You two were regulars at the Mangy Cur?”

Bronson flushed with desire at her contact, and he seemed to struggle to stay on topic. “Caradoc was in a rage. You vanished the same day Erik did.”

She nodded in understanding. “Of course Caradoc was angry, but the fates were not kind to me.”

His eyes seemed caught by hers, and his knuckles automatically rapped the wood table. “Fates can be cruel.”

It came to her, suddenly. Bronson had been near terrified at the gates of Avoca’s Folly. He had been certain of the curse and of the supernatural powers.

She fought to hold the smile from her face. She could put his fears to good use.

She pressed her body further against his, and added a tremor to her voice. “It was my granny,” she whispered. “When I went home that night, she told me that Caradoc’s tower was cursed! She told me the spirits were angered by Erik’s presence there, and that any who stayed with Caradoc would be stricken with horrible maladies. She warned me to run!”

Bronson drew in a sharp breath, and his fingers wrapped around hers. “Cursed?” he echoed.

She nodded with certainty. “I swear it on my mother’s grave,” she intoned somberly. “My granny always had a way of seeing danger coming. And sure enough, I heard that Caradoc’s poor brothers were slain there!”

“They were, and an awful sight it was to see,” he muttered. “Ripped open as if by wild boars.”

Sander leant over eagerly. “I was gored by a wild boar,” he stated with pride. “Sliced my calf clean in half. Would you like to see?”

Bronson gave him a snarling frown. “She don’t want to look at your festering wound,” he snapped. He gazed back down at Mary. “Of course you ran, if your granny told you that,” he soothed her. “Anyone would.”

Mary looked up with plaintive eyes. “You won’t tell anyone here that I once worked at Caradoc’s tavern?” she pleaded. “If they knew I worked at that type of a place, they might toss me out in the cold.”

He drew an arm around her, pulling her body closely against his. “Don’t you worry, lass,” he assured her. “I will take good care of you.”

Sander leant forward with the pitcher. “We both will,” he chimed in, topping off her mug. “You just trust in us.”

Mary risked a glance toward Michael, and if anything his eyes held even more concern in them now. His fingers were on the table, drumming in a steady rhythm.

Despite her best intentions, her gaze slid left, along to the head table. Lynessa had her head back, talking to Tina, apparently asking for more wine to be brought, judging by the way she was waving her goblet around. And Erik –

Mary’s mouth went dry. Erik was staring straight at her, his eyes holding cold disapproval. Then Lynessa was turning back to the table, his eyes returned to the blonde, and it was as if the moment had never happened.

Lynessa whispered something into Erik’s ear, then drew to her feet. The men at the head table stood with her, then regained their seats as she headed toward a side door.

Mary’s heart pounded in her chest. This was her chance. She had to make sure she talked with Lynessa before the woman recognized her. It would give her a chance to lay the same foundation she had with the two men.

Offering her apologies to Bronson and Sander, she stood and made her way along the back wall toward the garderobe. By the time she reached the quiet hallway, Lynessa was just stepping out of the small room. She pulled up in surprise as she came up to Mary, and then her eyes narrowed in recognition.

“You!”

Mary pitched her voice to be as full of pleading pity as possible. “Please, M’Lady, I meant no harm that night at the tavern. My only thought was to keep Caradoc safe. When I came across Erik here, I thought –”

Lynessa’s mouth turned down in a scowl. “You thought to turn him in to Caradoc, and gain all the credit for his discovery,” she snapped.

Mary wrung her hands at her chest. “I know you are fond of him, M’Lady, but he’s a ruthless killer! He killed Caradoc’s own kin - Espan and Arbert.” She widened her eyes in horror. “Killed them in an
awful
way.” She drew her face into steady resolve. “You have to get clear of him, M’Lady, for your own sake. We have to let Caradoc know he’s here. Caradoc lost two brothers. He deserves to take his revenge.”

Lynessa looked down at Mary, her thin nose wrinkling in contemplation. “You love Caradoc?”

Mary bobbed her head enthusiastically. “With all my heart,” she vowed.

Lynessa took a step toward her, causing Mary to press back into the wall. Lynessa’s voice took on a sharpness. “And you would do
anything
for him?”

Mary was almost mesmerized by the focus in the blonde’s gaze. She nodded mutely.

The edges of Lynessa’s mouth curved up into a pleased grin. “Then you will follow my orders to the letter.”

Mary’s brow wrinkled with confusion. “I don’t understand...?”

“I saw you with my two men-at-arms. You recognize them?”

Mary dipped her head. “Of course. They were Caradoc’s men.”

“Then you should trust that what I am doing has his blessing,” she snapped. “Now stop confounding his plans.” Her eyes narrowed with contemplation. “After all, it is
your
fault that Espan and Arbert are dead.”

Mary brought her voice to a squeak. “My fault?”

Lynessa smiled with satisfaction. “Think about that. What do you think Caradoc will say when I explain to him how your foiling of my initial scheme led to his brothers’ deaths?”

Mary dropped to her knees, holding her hands up to Lynessa. “I had no idea!” she pleaded. “Please, what can I do to make amends?”

Lynessa practically glowed with self-assurance. “Get back in there and stay with Bronson and Sander,” she ordered. “Do whatever they tell you to do, and for God’s sake, keep quiet this time.”

Mary lowered her eyes. “Yes, M’Lady.”

Lynessa, turned, striding back toward the great hall, leaving Mary in silence.

Mary stayed down, her heart pounding.

Lynessa was guilty.

Mary had not admitted, even to herself, that there had been a tiny chance that Erik had been right – that Lynessa had been innocently caught up in machinations beyond her control. Mary had not been willing to admit that her plans could easily result in vindicating Lynessa.

She could have lost Erik forever.

Relief coursed through her, and she sagged back against the wall, brushing her hair from her face. She knew now that she was on the right path. What remained was to find incontrovertible proof that could be presented to Erik, and to the sheriff. If the woman, and Caradoc’s band, could be brought to justice, this whole nightmare would finally be over.

There were footsteps in the hall, and Michael came around the corner, stopping in surprise when he found Mary sitting on the ground. He hurried forward, putting down a hand, gently drawing her to her feet. “Are you all right?”

“I am fine,” she assured him, dusting off her dress. “Meet me on the wall when the moon is a quarter up.”

He nodded, his brow creased in concern, and then he headed out again.

Mary waited a few minutes, then headed back into the hall herself, regaining her seat between the two men.

Bronson handed her mug to her. “There you are,” he greeted. “We were worried about you.”

She smiled reassuringly at him. “Just making myself ready for tonight’s entertainment,” she grinned.

His eyes drew down her curves, a hungry look firing in his gaze. “Oh?”

She smiled at him, then she stood, moving to the side of the room where she had stashed her tambourine. She turned, lifting it high, giving it a shimmering spin. A cheer went up in the room as she moved toward the head table, dropping into a curtsey before the pair.

Lynessa turned to Erik, her eyes bright with amusement. “How droll, a singer. You do think of everything, my darling.”

Erik’s gaze met Mary’s, and his eyes, normally so open and clear, were a mask.

Lynessa leant against him, turning to look down at Mary. “Do sing us a love song,” she urged. “Something romantic and sweet.”

Mary’s jaw tightened, but she nodded, forcing a smile on her lips. “As My Lady commands, it is my pleasure to obey,” she agreed, stepping back.

She raised her hands high, filling the hall with the rich, clear sound of her voice, swaying and shimmering the tambourine in time with the music.

“I have a young sister

Far beyond the sea;

Many be the gifts

That she sent me.

She sent me the cherry

Without any stone,

And so she did the dove

Without any bone.

She sent me the briar

Without any bark;

She bade me love my darling

Without any longing.”

Mary spun and sang, holding her arms out to the audience, drawing them into her tune.

“How should any cherry

Be without stone?

And how should any dove

Be without bone?

How should any briar

Be without bark?”

Her voice caught, but all eyes were on her, and she pushed on, her voice filled with an emotion which was more than art.

“How should I love my darling

Without longing?”

She whirled in a circle to give herself time to regain her control, then drew in front of the head table.

“When the cherry was a flower,

Then had it no stone;

When the dove was an egg,

Then had it no bone.

When the briar was a sprout,

Then had it no bark;”

She could not help herself. She turned to Erik, holding his gaze with hers.

“When the maiden has who she loves,

She is without longing.”

She gave one last shimmer of her tambourine, then dropped into a curtsy, lowering her eyes to the floor.

The room exploded into applause and cheers. Mary waited a moment before drawing back up into a standing position. She whirled in a circle before dropping into a fresh curtsy before the pair.

Lynessa was eyeing her with sharp attention. Her mouth curved into a smile. “You really do love him, this man of whom you sing,” she murmured.

Mary flushed, but she nodded, willing herself to only look at Lynessa’s eyes. “I do.”

Lynessa’s grin widened. “Well, then, remember our little talk,” she advised.

Mary’s eyes glowed with conviction. “I shall.”