The Succubus (6 page)

With quickening steps, he went through the postern gate and out into the fields beyond the walls. Hopefully a brisk walk would help him calm down so he could get through another boring evening with his uncle before he saw her again. This time he wouldn't be put off by her beguiling ways. He'd find out what the hell was going on.

* * * *

Isabel rested her back on pillows propped against her bed's headboard as she dissolutely poked a needle in and out of a small piece of embroidery. Her mind was so full of Daniel, she could barely think of anything else.

Surely he was the handsomest knight in all Christendom. And sweet, and kind, and loving—but he could never be hers. That thought brought a tear to her eye, but she hurriedly brushed it away and told herself to be grateful to have this short time with him. What if they'd never met, if she'd never known what it felt like to blissfully lay in a man's arms? She still had five more nights to steal to his room. She must make the most of them.

Her maid entered the room carrying a basket of laundry.

“La, my lady, it's a beautiful day, lots of sunshine with just a bit of a nip in the air. Don't ye feel up to a short walk? It would do ye a world of good.”

“No, Tess. Lord Kendrick wants me to stay abed until I'm completely recovered.”

“Supposin' ye're with child? He expect you to stay abed for the full time?”

“We have no reason to think that's the cause of my illness.”

“Only thing I can think of to make a woman sick one minute and right as rain the next. You stay in your room much longer and ye're gonna miss meeting the master's young nephew. He's a fine looking gentleman, but a strange 'un, if ye ask me.”

“Strange? What do you mean?”

“I met him on the way back from the washhouse. He asked me what my name was and then if I was the only Tess at Tewsbarrow. What kind of question is that?”

Isabel threw her head back on her pillow and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Now Daniel knew her name wasn't Tess and that she'd lied to him
. Can I think of another lie to explain this one?
He'd be quick to doubt anything she said.

Perhaps her best course would be to tell Kendrick what had happened. But he'd undoubtedly stop her from going to Daniel's room. She'd never see him again. Never have a chance to say goodbye, to tell him she'd always remember him.

“Here now, my lady, are ye having a bad spell?” Tess rushed to her side and patted her shoulder. “No need to cry. Ye're a strong young woman. Ye'll get over this little illness.”

Isabel felt a cloth being pressed into her hand and used it to wipe away her tears. She had to get her emotions under control, so Kendrick wouldn't know anything was wrong, and she could see Daniel one more time.

* * * *

Kendrick no longer walked with her down the shadowy hall to Daniel's room, but Isabel had to wait for him to come and tell her the way was clear. She paced while she waited.
What will I tell Daniel?
He was sure to be angry with her. Last night he'd practically declared his love.

Surely, he hadn't meant it.
Young noblemen did not fall in love with lady's maids. Did they?
He'd suggested she leave Tewsbarrow and go to Bettany so they could be together. That didn't mean he was considering marrying her.

Of course, she was already married so there could be nothing further between them.
What will he think if I tell him I am his uncle's wife, and we have used him to create an heir in order to deny him a title and a large estate?
Surely he will hate me.

Perhaps she could tell him she was a creature like Esmeralda? A woman paid to warm the baron's bed. But how could she explain being free each night to visit Daniel? The wife of another man here at Tewsbarrow? Why did her husband keep her hidden away? Each new lie presented questions she couldn't answer.

She was so perplexed she didn't notice Kendrick entering the room until he said, “Why are you so aflutter, my dear? Anxious to visit your lover?”

She glared at him and then quickly turned away, hoping he hadn't seen her hatred of him. He'd made her do this wickedness because he couldn't beget his own children, and he'd married her because he could force his will on her with threats against her family. He'd used poor Daniel as though his nephew was something less than human.

She was tired of being Kendrick's helpless pawn. The least she could do was tell Daniel the truth and let him escape his uncle's clutches. Perhaps no babe had been planted in her yet, and they could foil part of Kendrick's plan.

She looked her husband in the eye. “I'm just restless from being cooped up in this room. Is the way clear?”

He stepped aside and gestured toward the door. “Be on your way, but remember you are
my
wife.”

Holding her head high, she marched past him. “As if I could forget.”

* * * *

Daniel sat in the chair near the fireplace with a wine cup in his hand and waited. He heard the faint rustle of footsteps in the hallway and then his door opened. She came timidly into the room and stopped a few feet from his chair.

As her gaze raked along his fully clothed figure, she pulled the opening of her cloak more tightly together. “I know you met the real Tess today, and I intend to tell you the truth about who I am, but first let me say I didn't want to do this. I had no choice.”

He just stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded by her gall. “Didn't want to do what?”

“Deceive you. Use you while you were under the influence of a sleeping potion.”

“That brings up a question almost more fascinating than who you are. Why?”

“To get with child.”

He sprang to his feet, flung his cup into the fireplace. The wine created a loud a hiss and short flare. “Who in the hell are you?”

The woman stepped back and raised her hands as if to ward him off. He followed her, determined to wring the truth from her. “And don't try to lie to me again.”

The door flew open banging against the wall. Kendrick limped into the room. With a leering smile, he gestured toward the cowering woman and said, “Allow me to introduce my wife, Lady Isabel. You ungrateful whelp, you accepted my hospitality and then made me a cuckold.”

Daniel reeled. Of all the things he'd imagined, this had not come to mind.
Have I been sleeping with a crazy woman? No. This woman wasn't crazy.
He turned to her expecting a denial.

She dipped her head and muttered, “I'm sorry.”

“Why? Why?” he yelled and instantly knew the answer. Turning back to his uncle, he said, “Did you want your own heir so badly that you were willing to whore out your wife?”

Kendrick's lips twisted into an ugly smirk. “If you weren't so stupid, you'd have realized I'd tear Tewsbarrow down stone by stone before letting a son of my greedy, conniving brother inherit it.”

Daniel shook his head, still finding all of this difficult to grasp. “But you have no problem letting his grandson inherit?”

Kendrick shrugged. “No one will know, and it keeps the bloodline pure.”

Daniel turned back to Isabel. Her head was still down, her hair hiding her face. Her shoulders jerked and she made small sniffling sounds.
Did the bitch really think tears would wash away her sins?
“The first night you came to my room, I thought you were sent by the devil to steal my seed. Now I see I was right.”

Kendrick grabbed Isabel's arm and pulled her toward the door as he yelled at Daniel, “Begone from this castle by dawn or I'll have my guards drag you out!”

“The faster I get away from you and your sluttish wife the better.” Daniel grabbed up one of the leather bags he brought his belongings in and begin stuffing a tunic into it.

“Come along, my dear,” Kendrick said to Isabel. “This rascal has served our purposes.”

Daniel hated the triumphant tone in his uncle's voice. “After only one week, she may not be with child, you know.”

Kendrick paused to glare back with him. “Good! Then I'll find some honest laborer with more sense than you have to do the deed.”

Daniel clenched his teeth to stop a cry of rage at the thought of Isabel so dishonoring herself. Kendrick dragged her from the room and she never looked back. That was the cruelest blow. She never once looked back at him.

In the practice yard at Bettany Castle, Daniel sent another squire sprawling with a whack from his blunted practice blade. “You boys are fat and lazy,” he grumbled at the circle of somber young men who surrounded him. “If you ever hope to become knights, you have to sharpen your skills, and the only way to do that is through constant practice.”

He could see why Lord Giffard had placed him in charge of the squires' military training. Sir Simon had apparently grown too old for the job. “Who wants to be next?”

The only response was shuffling feet and hanging heads. Daniel was so disgusted with these boys he was sorely temped to bang a few heads to get their attention.

A high-pitched voice called, “Sir Daniel, Sir Daniel!”

He turned to see who was interrupting him. The baron's page, a boy of nine, was running toward him on pudgy legs.
By God, it was time to put the whole lot on short rations.
“What do you want?”

The boy stopped and fought to catch his breath. “Lord Giffard wishes to see you.”

Daniel glowered at him. “Where?”

“In the hall, sir.”

“When?”

“Now, sir.”

Daniel swallowed a curse and sheathed his sword. He stopped at a nearby trough, and after pulling the chain mail away from his head, threw hands full of chilly water over his sweaty face and hair. He hated to appear before the baron in such a disheveled state, but he felt sure the lord wouldn't interrupt his training session for no good reason. Something must be wrong.

He entered the hall and immediately spotted the robust figure of Lord Giffard seated on his favorite settle near the large fireplace. As he neared his liege lord, Daniel noticed another man standing nearby. The man turned and Daniel stopped and stared in amazement. “Wilmont?”

The steward from Tewsbarrow stepped toward him, and then dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “My lord.”

Daniel was embarrassed such an unseemly display occurred in front of Lord Giffard. “What's the matter with you?” he gruffly asked the kneeling man. “I'm no lord.”

Wilmont looked up. “Yes, sir, you are. Your uncle has died, and you're his heir.”

Daniel felt like the flat side of a broadsword had banged the side of his head.

A smiling Lord Giffard jumped to his feet and slapped Daniel on the back. “Don't look so surprised, Daniel. You knew you were Tewsbarrow's heir.”

“Er—only if he didn't have a child, and he had a young wife.”

After a gesture from Daniel, Wilmont got to his feet. “He did have a child, my lord, but a girl who cannot inherit.”

“A girl child?” The broadsword blow was followed by the smack of a mace.

“Yes, my lord. Her name is Chloe.”

“When was she born?”

Wilmont frowned at the question, but finally said, “Why, let me see. The baron was stricken right after her birth and he lingered on for more than two months. Counting the time it's taken me to bring the news, Chloe's at least three months old.”

It had been a year since he'd been to Tewsbarrow.
I have a child, a daughter.
The scheming pair had succeeded in making the baby they so desperately wanted, but their plan had still failed. Mirth began to build in his chest. A smile twisted his lips.

“It's finally sinking in—eh?” Lord Giffard asked. “You're now a baron.”

Daniel began to laugh, a deep rolling laugh, perhaps the first real laugh he'd had since he'd ridden from Tewsbarrow Castle a defeated man. He threw his head back and let joy roar forth. They had failed. His fiendish uncle and his sluttish aunt had failed.

Baron Giffard turned to Wilmont. “You must be tired and hungry after your long trip. I'll have a servant take you to a room where you can clean up and rest, and you'll be welcome to join our evening meal.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Daniel heard these words and realized he was ignoring his duty to this man who was now
his
man. He struggled to curtail his laughter.

Wilmont glanced at him as if he found Daniel's mirth unseemly, and Daniel knew it was. After all, he'd just been told his uncle was dead. That thought caused a new ripple of mirth.

“Ah—will you be wanting to return to Tewsbarrow immediately, my lord?” Wilmont asked him.

“No,” Lord Giffard answered for him. At Daniel's curious look, he continued, “You need to go to court. Pledge your allegiance to the king and make sure no one is challenging your claim to the title.”

Daniel nodded. “Yes, of course.”

The baron waved a servant over, and gave the orders concerning Wilmont. The steward looked at Daniel before leaving and asked, “Will you want me to go to court with you, my lord?”

Trying to rouse himself to sensibility, Daniel said, “You probably need to get back to Tewsbarrow and see to things there. We'll talk after you've rested.”

After Wilmont left, Giffard threw an arm around Daniel's shoulders and pulled him toward the settle. “Sit with me, Daniel. You've had quite a shock. You need time to take it all in.”

Daniel did as instructed. Being invited to sit with the lord was an honor for a young knight. Only now he wasn't just a knight, but a baron, Giffard's equal. No, Giffard had been a baron for a number of years, he knew far more about the responsibilities and the protocols. Daniel needed his help. “Er—I am a bit stunned.”

“That's perfectly understandable.”

“I have no idea what to do at court.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll accompany you and advance you the funds you'll need to outfit yourself properly.”