"No, Geoffrey, I was disloyal as well." Elizabeth 's confession sounded like a tortured whisper.
"God give me patience with you," Geoffrey muttered. "Always you contradict me." He shook his head and waited for her response.
"I was not going to Rupert just to offer comfort in his time of need. No, my motives were selfish and sinful, Geoffrey. I grew impatient waiting for you to do something and decided that Rupert would champion my cause. I thought to tell him about Belwain, and in his grief he would not be so concerned about the law… and he would go to Belwain and make him confess."
Tears began to stream down her face and Elizabeth wiped them away with an impatient hand. She could tell from the look on her husband's face that he was furious with her confession. He acted like he had just received a blow to his midsection, and Elizabeth cried all the more, for she was the cause of his anger, his pain. "I am guilty of disobedience and disloyalty and lack of patience. I admit to each sin, and will cut my hair and wear a peasant's garb for a year if that be my penance. But, Geoffrey, last evening I knew I could not go through with my plan. I had given you my trust. By going to Rupert I would have been telling you that I had no faith in you. Geoffrey, I was so confused. I had made the vow to avenge my family's deaths… and then I made the vows to you… and I did not know which came first. Oh, Geoffrey, I cannot be vengeful any longer. Belwain's death will not bring my papa back to me. This constant thought of revenge truly goes against my nature." She wiped her cheeks with the edge of her cloak and wished her husband would say something. Oh, how she longed to hear him yell at her. Anything, to show her she had not destroyed any affection he might have felt for her. "If you decide never to look for proof of my uncle's treachery, then so be it."
It took Geoffrey a long while to calm down. He almost shuddered when he realized how close he had come to losing her. The danger! And she had no idea, none at all. That was probably his fault, he admitted. Aye, he too was to blame. If he had not been so stubborn, so bent on teaching her her place, none of this would have come to pass. Yet she had just admitted that she was on her way to another to champion her cause. How dare she? his mind demanded, when she had given her trust into his care. Aye, it was disloyalty, in thought and in action. He would have to address this problem, but not until he had time to think. It was unwise to make snap judgments and decisions, for they could well prove unchangeable. He needed time… time and distance away from his wife, to sort this confusion out.
" Elizabeth, it was Rupert behind the whole of it." She did not understand what he was saying. Not at first. She shook her head, trying to deny what she just heard. No, he was Margaret's husband! He would not, could not…
"He hides until the wound from the knife heals," Geoffrey said, watching the play of emotions crossing his wife's face.
Elizabeth was too stunned to say anything. The enormity of the situation was too much to consider.
Geoffrey dismounted and lifted her to the ground. "It is true. You would have ridden into hell and not known it until it was too late."
"How did you find out?" Elizabeth finally managed to ask.
"From the moment you told me the story, I was suspicious of Rupert. The fact that he suddenly became too ill to accompany his wife to Montwright, that planted the seed of doubt in my mind. Then, when Elslow arrived, he told me that Rupert was one of the leaders of the rebels against William, though Rupert does not know that Elslow could name him traitor. The final proof came from the messenger, the first messenger. One of Rupert's ill-treated servants let slip the news that Rupert's injury was slow to heal. That bit of information, added to the fact that Rupert refused to answer my call… Aye, Elizabeth, he is the one behind the whole of it. I would stake my life on it."
"Dear God, he killed Margaret," she whispered. "And you were on your way to confront him, weren't you? You sought to put an end to this nightmare and end my torment. Geoffrey, I-"
"I was on my way to challenge him, yes," Geoffrey said, his voice hard again. "But not to put an end to your torment, wife. You place too much worth on yourself if you think you are my main concern. Rupert attacked what belonged to me, and your father was my loyal vassal. Montwright is but one of my holdings but I protect all I own. And I am loyal to all who place their trust in my hands. Your nightmare is your own, Elizabeth, your torment yours to keep. You are narrow of purpose, thinking only of yourself. Aye, you are selfish and foolish, and that is a most dangerous combination."
Geoffrey knew that he hurt her with his harsh words but he was too angry to take them back. She had just admitted that she had been disloyal. Added to that fact was her foolishness in placing herself in such jeopardy… and all to go to a madman who would have taken great pleasure in killing her. He let his anger run free, knowing full well that his wife was the only available vessel for his wrath, his hurt.
"What is my worth, Geoffrey?" Elizabeth 's softly spoken question took him by surprise. He had thought that his words would have angered her and she would have responded in kind. He found he was disappointed and admitted that he wanted a good fight. He studied her for a long moment, noting that she held her head up and her shoulders straight. There was pride in her stance, but no arrogance or anger in her gaze. Geoffrey looked into her eyes and could only read defeat there… defeat and sorrow.
"Do not ask me that question now," Geoffrey snapped, "else I will say something I may regret. You have the ability to make me lose my temper like no other." Geoffrey clasped his hands behind his back, calming somewhat by her docile attitude, and said, "You do not fight with me and I cannot help but wonder at your motives. Perhaps you have realized that you have gone too far this time?"
Elizabeth refused the bait. She could not handle any more harsh words. "Why Rupert?" she asked, changing the subject. "Did he also want Montwright?"
"I think not," Geoffrey said. "No, it was havoc he was after," he concluded.
"Margaret was so gentle, so loving," Elizabeth said, shaking her head, "and he killed her."
Roger interrupted with a shout. "The men return, Hawk."
Geoffrey and Elizabeth both turned.
The soldier called James dismounted and hurried over to his lord. "They come this way and outnumber us three to one. They ride from the east."
"Rupert?" Elizabeth asked her husband. She started to tremble and could not seem to stop.
Geoffrey did not answer her. He lifted Elizabeth into his arms and carried her to her horse. Placing her in the saddle, he called to Roger. "See to her protection." Pulling his sword from its sheath, he turned from her and began ordering his men into position.
The sun was slowly slipping from the sky, casting a soft orange glow to the lake. Another half hour, and the woods would be in total darkness. Roger led Elizabeth 's mare away from the water and between two tall trees. He motioned to James again and two others and Elizabeth was surrounded by men on horseback. "Do not leave her side," Roger ordered, and the men immediately nodded. "I know you would not," Roger corrected when he realized he had insulted them with his order. They would die before letting harm come to their lady, just as he would.
"God protect you," Elizabeth whispered to Roger. He nodded and started toward her husband. And you protect my husband, she added to herself.
The rebels could be heard in the distance, riding hard and fast through the denseness. They aimed for the water, to refill their pouches, Elizabeth thought. But she was wrong. One minute the only sound was that of hard-ridden mounts, and the next, the bedlam of battle. The enemy had ridden into the clearing with their weapons drawn; aye, they were ready for battle. Geoffrey and his men did not have the element of surprise on their side and they were outnumbered, as James had stated.