"But we do not have what we wanted!" It was a cry of outrage, of anguish. "We do not have Ashbury—and I helped him wrest it from our grasp!" True, they were no longer at the mercy of Richard, but now they were at the mercy of the Earl of Sedgewick. Kathryn's heart twisted in despair. Her life was still not her own. . .
It would never be her own.
If only she could be as accepting as Elizabeth, the loss would be so much easier to bear. If only...
To her horror, a tear slid down her cheek. Then another and another.
For once it was Kathryn who sought refuge in the arms of her sister, sobbing out her bitter heartache. She cried in fury; she cried in pain. She cried for all she had lost.
And all that would never be hers.
Noonday saw a curling fog creeping round the towers. The sky was a depthless gray. A thick layer of clouds smothered the presence of the sun.
Guy turned away from the narrow window, cursing and rubbing his knee. The weather was a melancholy reflection of his mood. Damn, but he hated the chill and misty climate of Cornwall! The damp sea air did naught but make all his old wounds ache.
He was tired, he realized. Tired of war. Weary of war within war. He was suddenly anxious to be back at Sedgewick, to see his son Peter and hold him close...
Hugh threw open the door of the counting room. "What! Are you still brooding? Never has victory come easier. Richard's knights are in the dungeon, but I've no doubt they'll swear their allegiance to you when they realize Richard will never command here again. And we lost not a single man!" His voice faded as he beheld his friend's countenance.
Hugh sighed. "It’s Richard, isn't it?" He needed no response. He had only to watch Guy's features harden into an implacable mask.
He walked over and laid a hand on Guy's shoulder. "You have Ashbury, Guy. I know you already have lands aplenty, but didn't you see Richard's face last night when you told him Henry had ceded Ashbury to you? You have broken and beaten him. Throw him in prison for the rest of his life and let it be over and done!"
Guy closed his eyes. Gerda's words echoed over and over in his brain, like a death knell. They showed no mercy .. .no mercy at all!
His hands clenched. "But he still lives, Hugh. Richard still lives while Elaine—" There was a rough thread of pain in his voice. "—Elaine is dead." He shook his head. His eyes opened, filled anguish. " 'Tis not so easy to let go, when the thought of Richard dead is all that has driven me for the last two years—that and the thought of seeing my son."
Hugh watched him for a long moment. "There is also Lady Kathryn to think of," he reminded him. "I understand there is a sister as well."
Guy snorted. "I'd be wise to throw the lady in prison along with her uncle."
Hugh smiled. "Were it not for her, you wouldn't have taken Ashbury so easily."
"I almost killed an innocent man because of her! And I crave nothing more than to put my fingers round Richard's throat, yet because of her I can't lay a hand on him!"
"At any rate, I assured her you were a just lord who wouldn't dream of casting her out of her home."
"You what! Egad, man, is she a witch who's cast you under her spell? What foolishness is this that you dance to her tune so readily?"
"She has no love for her uncle, Guy. Not because of the taint on his name but because of his treatment of her and her sister. Stephen granted Ashbury to Richard when her parents died, but she feels it would have been hers if Richard hadn't intervened. He also sold their dower lands."
"Is that what she said?"
"Yes."
"And you believed her?"
"Don't you?"
Guy rubbed his chin, pricked by sudden doubt. His first impulse was to cast aside all her claims as ridiculous. Yet knowing Richard's deceitful nature, it was possible she spoke the truth. Still, instinct told him that she must be watched, that she could be dangerous.
Hugh sighed. "You can't turn them out of their home, Guy. Why, she was ready last night to scurry off to a nunnery."
Guy gave a shout of laughter. "A nunnery! By God, man, that's rich! Have you forgotten how we found her?" He sobered abruptly and gave his friend a long hard look. "Indeed, she seems to have you well in hand. Mayhap she knows rather well how to bend a man to her every whim."
Hugh denied it, and they soon moved on to other things. But Guy's thoughts returned again and again to Richard, and Hugh's plea to let his vengeance end.
Nay, he thought grimly. A voice within him still cried out for revenge. He could not let go so easily. But he could not lay a hand on Richard—at least not yet. There had to be another way.
He would not pronounce his sentence just yet, he decided. Richard feared for his life, and the thought of Richard stewing—trembling in fear—appeased the storm in his soul.
For the moment.
Chapter 3
Richard did indeed fear for his life. But far from stewing, his evil mind was busy searching for a way to save his skin. He sat in the high-backed chair in his chamber and rubbed his hands with glee. When Helga brought his morning meal, he bade her send his niece Kathryn to him as soon as possible.
It was nearly time for the evening meal when the wretched girl got round to showing herself. Richard chafed at the delay but he was feeling immensely proud of himself—and inclined to be lenient with her. And just as he'd thought, the guard at the door thought nothing of the fact that his niece sought him out.
"You sent for me, Uncle?"
She stood before him, haughty and proud. No doubt she was glad to see him held prisoner in his own keep!
He tapped his pudgy fingers on the arm of the chair. "I have a task for you, girl."
Winged black brows shot up. "Indeed?" she said coolly.
Richard longed to slap the insolent smirk from her lips but thought better of it. "Aye." He beckoned her nearer. "Come here. I'll not have the guard at the door hear what I have to say."
Kathryn hesitated, then moved forward a step. "This task," she said slowly. "It concerns the Earl of Sedgewick?"
Richard's eyes gleamed. "Aye. That it does."
Her lovely mouth turned down at the corners. She and Elizabeth had spent most of the day in the bower, both hesitating to move about freely with so many of the earl's men milling about.
But she had watched the earl from the gallery off the great hall this morning while he informed wide- eyed servants that the keep was now under his protection. Later she'd glimpsed him in the bailey with the steward. He was every inch the master in command, she reflected bitterly. The servants went on about their tasks as if nothing was amiss. The smithy pounded horseshoes at the forge. Grooms swept out the stables and fed the horses. Indeed, today had been like any other day, except Richard's knights were locked up in the dungeon.
Her eyes flashed as she smoothed the folds of her wimple. "If it concerns the earl," she said shortly, "then I want no part of it."
"Hear me out, girl. I want you to kill him."
The world seemed to tilt alarmingly. Kathryn stared at her uncle uncomprehendingly, convinced she hadn't heard right. She resented the earl, yes. She hated the very thought of him possessing Ashbury .. . but she did not want him dead.
"You cannot be serious," she said faintly.
He leaped to his feet. "I've never been more serious in my life."
Kathryn whirled and bolted for the door. She'd almost reached it when a cruel hand forestalled her flight. Merciless fingers bit into the soft flesh of her arm and spun her around. Her uncle dragged her
back across the floor and thrust her into his chair.
She tried to jump up. "No!" Her eyes were dark and wild. "I—I won't do it, I tell you!"
He shoved her into the seat and clamped his hand over her mouth. "I say you will!" he hissed. "By God, girl, if it were not for you, I'd not be locked up here! Now listen and listen well. I know you still have the dagger that belonged to your mother. De Marche is a strong man. Likely as not, you'll have only one strike, so aim for the heart."