The Dark Lady (54 page)

“
So, what is it son?” he asked cautiously, but Peter remained silent.

Matthew took a deep drink of his warmed brandy and watched Peter do the same. He had always had a connection to the young man. He knew he owed his sanity to Peter. If not for him, even if he had only been thirteen at the time, Matthew would have gone mad over the loss of his daughter.

Peter had stayed with him, talking to him all night for as long as Matthew had needed him, though the time now was a blur. He did not know how long he had been lost in misery, but he knew every clear memory held Peter at his side.

Matthew had told Vanessa that it was the closeness of the two properties that had been the reason for the marriage. It was that, but it was also more.

It was a debt of gratitude. Peter had helped him search for her when she was first missing and for many years after she was taken. They had never given up on finding her and had searched until he had received the missive from Patricia.

No, Matthew thought, it was more than just repaying a debt owed. He watched Peter, who seem to gather his thoughts or mayhap his courage to speak.

He had wanted his daughter to marry Peter because he remembered well how Peter had been the only one with the ability to quiet his little girl. There had been many a night when no one could calm her, and Matthew had resorted to sending for the young lad, many times in the middle of night.

The minute Peter held her and talked to her, she would smile and laugh, reaching for his face. Even as young as he was, with his own interests to see to, never did he fail to come to her aid.

More than anything, that had been what Matthew wanted in a husband for her, one to stand by her side.

“
I need to talk to you about your daughter.”

Peter’s voice drew Matthew from his memories. He looked up at him and forced himself to wait.

Peter stared down at the brandy he slowly swirled and shook his head. “It will not be easy to say, but I think it best if it came from me.”

Panic began to set in as Peter took a long drink. Holding his peace, Matthew tried to calm himself. He just wanted her to be all right. Had something happened to her?

Peter had sat struggling with how to say what needed to be said. With where to begin. He took a deep breath, but could not think of an easy way to start. So in lieu of any ideas, he opened his mouth and just blurted it out. “Vanessa is the Dark Knight.”

“
What?” Matthew’s surprised shout brought his short and portly butler rushing into the room, but both men waved him away. “Why would you think that?”

Tremors gripped Peter’s muscles and he forced himself to look at Matthew. He could see the confusion and the doubt in his eyes. “There are several things.”

A flash of candlelight shimmering off a dagger thrown at his head sparked in his mind. “A dagger,” he said simply.

“
A dagger?” Matthew asked uncertainly, his brows arched.

“
The dagger you gave me.” He took a deep breath and saw no way to get around telling him the whole story.

Peter quickly told him of the confrontation when Van had arrived home. He told him of his part in it and laughed bitterly. “I had planned to have him seduce her and tell me about it, but I am glad I was there when it happened. If not, I do not doubt she would have killed him there in the servants’ hall.”

Matthew didn’t say anything, but the shocked look on his face and the small shake of his head spoke loudly of his displeasure in Peter’s actions.

Peter ignored the guilt and the disappointment he felt in himself and pushed forward. “After I told her what I had done she threw the knife at my head.” He chuckled. He was now sure she had hit exactly where she had aimed. “Well, at a beam beside my head. It was undoubtedly the dagger I gave to the Dark Knight, the one you gave to me.”

Peter took another drink and Matthew nodded. “Aye, you told me you gave it to him. There are ways that she may have gotten the dagger.”

“
Aye, but there is more.” Taking a deep breath and watching the growing horror in his companion’s dark black eyes, he told the story of the sword fight that had ended in one man’s beheading and two others being sent away. “With the end of the fight all that thick powder was gone. On her cheek is a thick scar.”

“
Many people have scars. That does not mean they are one and the same,” Matthew argued, but did not look as sure as he sounded.

“
I know that scar. That face has haunted my dreams for three years. I can still see him...her...” Peter grunted. “I can still see
Van
standing before that doctor with the side of her face stitched and brutal. I know the scar.”

Matthew stood, taking Peter’s goblet without asking and refilled the both.

Peter waited until the man was reseated before he continued. “I also spoke briefly with Richard Devenroe. Vanessa made him her second-in-command from the moment she arrived.”

“
This is not possible,” Matthew said without much conviction. “I have been keeping an eye on the Dark Knight for years. He has many mistresses. Many and there are several children that the man has.”

Peter knew all about his mistresses and his alleged children, but he was more concerned with something else. “Why were you keeping an eye on the Dark Knight?”

Matthew stood abruptly and started pacing. “I never told anyone, but I found Patricia.”

Peter rose to his feet, but remained by his chair. “You found her?”

“
Aye, many years ago, but Vanessa was not with her. She was with Paul Burgess, Van Burgess’ father. At least that was what I was told.”

“
Aye, he was said to be the Dark Knight’s father, but I had never known who his—” Peter grunted and corrected himself irritably. “—her mother was.”

“
When I found Patricia in Junket—” Matthew stopped when Peter looked up sharply at him. “Do you know the place?”

“
Aye.” But Peter decided to say no more. He knew now why Van had such a connection with the Dark Knight and Eolian. He did not want to tell Matthew his concerns for her safety. For now it was enough to convince him she was who he said she was.

After a moment, Matthew nodded and continued both his tale and his pacing. “I asked throughout the village. No one had ever seen her. I thought that if I kept an eye on all of them, eventually I would be able to find my little girl.” He gave a shaky laugh. “I saw her.”

“
When?” Peter walked slowly to the table that held the brandy. He refilled his cup and turned to watch Matthew’s steady strides back and forth across the library.

Matthew laughed unsteadily. “When I first found Patricia, Vanessa was ten. I saw her with a group of boys in the forest.” He smiled, his pacing stopped and his eyes took on a faraway look. “They were practicing with daggers and swords. I learned that it is not allowed that young boys do it without supervision, so they were hiding in the woods.”

Peter laughed. “Imagine that, she was disobeying the rules even then.”

Matthew laughed as well. This time his laugh sounded slightly less troubled. “Aye, that is my girl.” His face glowed with pride. “I saw a tall boy, the image of me when I was a child. I remember thinking that would be what my son would look like if I had had one. When I asked after him, I was told he was Burgess’s son and that he was only eight. I could have taken her then.” He looked up at the young man with a sudden grin. “I guess it is good that I did not. She never would have been there to save your life.”

“
What do you know about the Dark Knight, about Van?” Peter didn’t want to know anything and he wanted to know it all. “I know of rumors only. If you have watched him, perhaps you can lay rest to some of them.”

“
Perhaps aye, perhaps nay,” Matthew said with a sly grin.

Peter cringed.

“
I will tell you what I do know, as facts,” Matthew continued. “There are several children who have his name. He has six mistresses at the moment, although at times he has had more.”

Peter groaned and shook his head. He had heard stories of lots of mistresses, but did not believe it. He did not want to believe it especially now that his wife was the one who had them.

Matthew smiled at him gently. “Money is sent by a messenger that no one has ever seen. Van did go to see the mistresses and is brutal when it comes to women.” He shook his head his face clouding, his high smooth brow marred with tight wrinkles. “I know for fact that he uses force as well as threats of rape to intimidate them.”

Peter remembered well the confrontation with Rebeka and Vanessa sliding her hand down the front of her shirt. He had been too appalled at the time to think of the implications of it then, but now it seemed obvious.

Matthew was quiet for a moment and then cleared his throat. “There is more, but I am not sure you want to hear it.”

“
I do not.” Peter sat heavily in the chair beside the table and refilled his cup once again. He realized he had lost count of how many times it had been filled already. “But tell me anyway.”

“
He beat a woman to death.”

Peter jerked his head up to stare at him in disbelief, spilling his drink across his lap.

“
I do not know the circumstances involved, but I know the story to be true.” Matthew walked heavily to the chair that faced Peter and sat despondently. “I know with my mind that things are falling into place...but my heart? I cannot see a woman acting that way.”

“
I can. At least her.” Peter reluctantly told of the encounter with his mistress in the stairwell and then again at the dining hall. “You cannot imagine the surprise to see your wife slide her fingers into the gown of your mistress, and when she said ‘if I was in the market for a mistress,’ I had the strangest thought that it sounded as if she already had a mistress at the time.”

Matthew nodded his head. “Not one...six.”

Peter rolled his eyes and then laid his head against the tall back of the chair. “Funny.”

“
It does explain much.”

Matthew’s voice echoed through Peter’s head like a hammer against an anvil. Pain swirled through his overworked senses and settled into the beginnings of a throbbing headache.

“
When I went to pick her up, I asked her about daily life in Junket and she would not tell me. I thought at first it was because she was angry with me, but I think it was because she had not been there in so long.”

Peter heard the legs of his chair drag against the stone floor and flinched.

“
I just cannot see my little girl that left as the one that did all those terrible things that man has been accused of.” There was a pause and then Matthew’s face appeared above him.

Peter straightened his head and blinked groggily. The brandy weighed heavy on him, dragging him into a deep darkness that he did not want to fight against. He welcomed the coming of the black void that sleep would take him to.

“
You look exhausted; let me send you to a room. After some sleep we can talk.”

Peter nodded his cumbersome head and allowed the servant to lead him to a bed.

***

Van awoke in the morning, weary and sore in every muscle she had. Her arm was throbbing incessantly. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling above her, vaguely recalling leaving Anna’s bed and making her way to Peter’s.

She remembered clearly the disappointment that had left her clutching her pillow tightly when Peter had not come to bed by the time the sun was well set. She had finally fallen into an uneasy sleep.

She turned her head and flinched when she saw the smooth covers on his side of the bed. The coverlet seemed to glare accusingly at her as if to say it was all her fault that he had slept elsewhere.

Amy opened the door quietly. Van debated on sending her away, but pushed herself to her feet instead. She allowed Amy to cleanse her wound and change the bandages.

Van sighed in relief when there was no sign of infection and no hints of fever. At least as of yet, but what tomorrow would bring she was even afraid to guess at.

Amy tried to talk to her and she listened halfheartedly. Finally she shooed her away, telling her to check on Anna.

Van dressed in her gown and sat before the mirror to douse her face with powder. It was unnecessary now, but she did not want to remind them of who she really was. She made her way through the large estate. Peter was nowhere to be found and there was no one to ask.

When a servant saw her they would go the other way.

She watched them walk away with a mixture of calm acceptance and guilt. She could not find any anger for these people. They had taken to her, shown her loyalty, and she had betrayed them.

They were scared of her now and she could not blame them.

They were treating her as the Dark Knight was treated when he visited other castles. His reputation, nay her reputation, was one that bestowed fear in their hearts.

The reputation was all deserved and again she wondered what it was all for. Her mother had lied to her and the person she loved being was only a lie.

She should be the sweet demure woman she was supposed to be. Taking a deep breath, she decided that it was what she needed to be now.

Honesty with herself was not something she could allow right now, not if she was going to make herself into a true woman. She could not allow thoughts of the Dark Knight. She could not think of the things she would miss as him, or the past life she had once loved.