Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance (15 page)

She turned before she lost her will and slid her gaze to Erik. Was he already so lost beneath Lynessa’s spell that he had forgotten their time together? Her heart ached at the thought, but she focused on the path before her. In moments she was nestled between Bronson’s dark curls and Sander’s flaxen tousle, toasting the men, drowning herself in rich ale.

The conversation ebbed and flowed, the ale kept refilling, and it was only when the room began emptying out that Mary realized Michael’s chair had been empty for a while. She pushed herself to standing, wincing as her leg wobbled beneath her.

Bronson was instantly at her side. “My dear, let me help you. Where will you be sleeping tonight?”

A tremor of nervousness slid through her. “I need to help Zelda in the kitchen, with some clean-up first,” she demurred. “But when she gets through with me, if I am able to, I will come and find you.”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “You be sure to do that,” he growled, his eyes roaming her body.

She nodded, then turned, quickly hurrying out to the hallway. She drew a cloak from the small room to the left, then pushed open the main doors, walking through the dark, chill night as quickly as her injured leg would allow. She hobbled carefully up the long steps to the top of the wall. She made her way around its circumference, leaning against the outer edge for support.

Michael was standing alone at the eastern curve, a wool cloak wrapped tightly around him. He turned at her approach, his eyes holding a mixture of concern and frustration. She had barely pulled to a stop before his muttered words began.

“Where in God’s teeth have you been? Do you know what time it is? To think what those two miscreants could have done –”

Mary put a hand on his arm, reassuring him. “I have my dagger on me,” she soothed him. “And the hall was full of people. No harm would have befallen me.”

He grumbled, but his gaze softened, and he shook his head. “So tell me what you know.”

Mary leant against the wall, starting from the beginning, not leaving out any detail. Michael was a master of strategy, and she knew he might be able to spot something in her plan that she herself had missed. By the time she had finished he was nodding, running a hand through his greying hair.

“So we know they’re up to something,” he murmured. “I would assume it involves her marrying Erik, and then Erik somehow falling into Caradoc’s hands so he could take his revenge.”

To hear it said aloud ran Mary’s blood cold, but she drew in a breath and nodded. “I would guess that’s the gist of it,” she agreed.

“So we know it, but cannot prove it,” sighed Michael. “How do we get the proof?” His mouth turned up in a wry grin. “Besides, of course, allowing her to become his bride and then seeing what happens next.”

Hot anger shot through Mary at the prospect, and his eyes twinkled. He patted her on the arm. “You know I was only kidding,” he added. “I love the lad as much as you do.”

Mary’s heart sank. “He’s long past a lad,” she pointed out, “and he feels he has waited over ten years for a virtuous woman. If we do not act quickly, it may be too late.”

Michael shook his head. “I will do everything in my power to prevent that.”

“As will I,” stated Mary with determination. “There must be something that ties Lynessa to the criminals. Something more than her two bodyguards.”

Michael brought a thoughtful finger to his lips. “Maybe something in that baggage of hers?”

Mary’s heart lifted with hope. “There is a chance, at least,” she agreed. “I will see what I can do.”

Michael’s gaze held hers. “Be careful,” he warned. “That woman is a viper.”

Mary patted the hilt of her dagger. “As careful as a cat in a den of wolves.”

She turned, making her way back along the wall and across the quiet courtyard. How could she enter Lynessa’s room without raising either alarm or suspicion? Mary was no longer sleeping on the upper floor, so she would have no excuse for being on that floor at all, never mind in a guest’s room. If Lynessa were to find her –

She was grabbed hard by the arm, a hand was slammed over her mouth, and she was dragged around the corner of the keep. Her back was pressed hard against the cold stone, and her wide eyes lifted to see –

Erik.

Her shoulders sagged with relief, but his eyes were bright with fury as he released his hand from her mouth. His voice was a low hiss. “Expecting Bronson or Sander?”

It had been two nights since she last felt his body against hers, had breathed in his scent, and every part of her craved him. Her body arched against his of its own accord, and his eyes went smoky -

A creak came, of the main door being pressed open, and she realized her time was short. “Take Lynessa riding tomorrow,” she insisted in a low voice.

Erik’s voice was a growl. “Why?”

Lynessa’s elegant voice floated out into the courtyard. “Erik, my darling, are you out here?”

Erik held Mary’s gaze for a long moment, then he stepped back, moving around the corner. “Here I am,” he called out to her. “I was just checking in with Michael on the state of the patrol before I turned in.”

Mary dropped into a crouch, peering cautiously around the corner. Lynessa was putting an arm out to Erik, and he put his hand on it as easily as if they had been together for years.

Despair swamped Mary as if she were on a flimsy rowboat in the depths of a hurricane. Erik
had
been with Lynessa for years. He had loved her even before Cintersloe had been burnt to the ground. He had abandoned his mother to move in with Lynessa and her family. During the long years of his campaign in the Holy Land the two had written each other regularly. He had returned to live with her.

Mary shook her head. And how long had
she
known him? She had met him once, briefly, a decade ago. Since then she had dreamed of him, been jealous of him, fallen asleep with his eyes gazing down in steady focus. But in terms of actually talking with him, it had been a scant two weeks that they had been together.

Two weeks, and it felt like a lifetime.

She brushed her hair back from her face, standing to stare at the door in determination. She would prove to him just how corrupt that woman’s heart was.

Mary nodded, her gaze steadying. She would prove beyond all shadow of a doubt that she was the one deserving of Erik’s fierce and hard-won loyalty.

Chapter 11

Mary strode around the courtyard in the shimmering dawn light, pressing down on her injured leg with growing force. She smiled as the wound throbbed but did not impede her progress.

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. “Not yet, you don’t,” he warned her. “I know the bandage is off now, but you’re not yet ready for sparring.”

Mary’s shoulders slumped. To see the men out in motion drew her strongly. She wanted to be in their midst, dodging a block, whipping the light wooden blade around against an unsuspecting hip. A longing throbbed in her so strongly that she could barely think, could barely –

There was a motion at the stairs, she turned, and her gaze met Erik’s. Time staggered to a stop. It suddenly became crystal clear to her that the torment in her heart had little to do with the men-at-arms advancing and retreating across the smooth cobblestones. It took all of her will to stay in place, to hold back from running pell-mell into his arms and melting into him.

A flash of silver and green, and Lynessa stepped out beside him, tucking her hand around his arm. Mary turned, emotions twisting in turmoil within her. This was all her own doing. She had been the one to call for Lynessa to join them. Now every second was sheer torture.

The pair strolled across the yard to stand with Michael. Erik’s voice was tight with an emotion Mary could not put a name to. “Good morning, Michael. Are you up for some sparring?”

Michael nodded. “At your leisure, My Lord.”

Mary shivered. It was all sliding so effortlessly in place. Erik’s station in the keep. Lynessa at his side, as if she had been born to be there. And in fact had she? Had this been her dream since she was a young girl?

The two men moved into the courtyard, saluted, and were in motion. Michael drove an attack at Erik’s right shoulder, and Mary waited for Erik to bring his own sword up in a block, to follow up with a sliding blow to the arm.

Instead Erik whipped his sword down hard on top of Michael’s blade, the ringing noise echoing throughout the courtyard, the blades driving hard into the stone.

Michael’s brow creased; he stepped back and reset. This time he dove at Erik’s leg, the tip seeking to draw up and in.

SLAM.
Again Erik drove his blade down on top of Michael’s, and Mary could see the reverberation of the strike travel up the older man’s arm.

Lynessa’s smile widened into a grin. “That’s my warrior,” she stated with pride. “Even when he was younger he could best any man for miles. Good skill to have when there are bandits about.” She gave a shrug, then looked around. “The boys will be at it for hours. Come, let us go in and explore this marvelous keep.”

Mary desperately wanted to stay. Something was wrong. Erik’s attacks were brutal and sharp. Surely even Lynessa should be able to see that. But the woman was turning, heading back up the stairs, and Mary gave one last look at Erik’s tense stance before following.

She could not give up the opportunity to spend time alone with Lynessa. Maybe this would be her chance to learn something valuable.

They stepped into the great hall, and Lynessa’s eyes swept it in a calculating fashion. “First, of course, all these sword banners have to go,” she insisted. “One can hardly have an elegant party with all those brutish symbols around.”

Mary strove to keep her face calm. “Oh? What would you prefer?”

“Ivy, running in garlands throughout all of the rooms,” the blonde promptly answered. “Ivy seems such an innocent vine, almost beneath notice. But did you know that over time ivy can bring down even the sturdiest of walls?”

Mary thought to the ivy which had worked its way through the curtain wall at Avoca’s folly, and she nodded.

A smile came to Lynessa’s lips. “And I think holly, for added color. That would seem quite appropriate.”

Mary’s brow creased in confusion. “Appropriate?”

Lynessa gave a small shrug. “Yes indeed. I shall keep the main chair and the canopied bed, of course. It will bring me great pleasure to sit in that chair each day, and to stretch out in that bed each night.” She glanced toward the stairs. “Shall we go examine the master suite?”

Mary flushed, but Lynessa was already in motion, striding across the hall and up the curved stairs. Mary’s leg was aching by the time they got to the heavy oak door. Lynessa pushed the door in with a sweep.

She shook her head, going to each of the three windows and throwing open the curtains. “Just look at this,” she muttered. “Barely fit for a servant.” She glanced up at the fireplace, and the bare hook above it. “And do they not believe in paintings in this place? The first thing I shall do is commission two paintings of me – one for the great hall, and one to hang in here.”

Mary flushed, looking down. “Of you and Erik, do you mean?”

Lynessa gave a short laugh. “Having to see him in person is quite enough,” she countered. Her grin grew. “Besides, your precious Caradoc is notoriously short on patience. I doubt we will have enough time to have a painting done of the current Lord of this keep.”

A tremor ran through Mary, but she held it off with effort. “So it will be soon then, this plan of yours?”

Lynessa nodded sharply. “That should please you. I imagine you want to be back to that lover of yours as soon as possible.”

The image of Erik’s firm body, of the way his eyes smoked when he looked down at her, brought a flush to her face. “Yes, of course.”

Lynessa laughed out loud. “God’s teeth, woman, you wear your heart on your sleeve. You need to learn some self-control. Otherwise that man will leave you high and dry, when he realizes how easily he can wrap you around his finger.”

“You are right, of course,” murmured Mary.

Lynessa took a last look around the room, then shrugged. “Plenty of time to get things exactly right,” she muttered to herself. She turned, walking from the room, striding down the hall to her own room.

She stopped by her door. “Time for me to prepare for my outing with Erik,” she informed Mary. “You be a good girl and behave while I’m gone. It should only be another day or two before I have him properly hooked, and I have no doubt I can push for a quick marriage. Then we shall get you home to your Caradoc.”

She turned, entered her room, and closed the door in Mary’s face.

Mary was in a daze. Everything was happening so quickly, and Lynessa’s ruthlessness staggered her. She stumbled down to the end of the hall, falling onto the padded bench that lay beneath the window overlooking the front courtyard. The men had finished their practice rounds. Mary could see Michael up on the front wall, conferring with two of the guards.

Erik was nowhere in sight.

She brought her knees up, hugging them in close. What if she found the evidence she sought in Lynessa’s room, but Erik refused to acknowledge it? Surely Lynessa would have an explanation for any situation, and Erik seemed more than ready to believe in her. He had invested over ten years in this relationship, had gone to war for her, had given up his family and heritage for her. What would one more minor inconvenience be to all of that?