Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me Read online

  Nothing could come of the feelings they had for each other. He should never have allowed their relationship to get this far out of hand. He should’ve kept his distance.

  Life would be impossible if he remained on this course for long. He’d already proven he couldn’t resist Elizabeth’s charms. If he spent much time with her, he knew he’d soon succumb yet again to the desire that filled him whenever she was near. He couldn’t trust himself. ’Twould be best to stay as far away as possible. He could only hope he would find a way to do so.

  All that was important right now was William. The future would have to take care of itself. He straightened, pasted a smile on his face, and entered William’s chamber. He would do anything to help his brother, even if it meant turning his back on his wife and his heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  During the long night, Elizabeth wondered how she could possibly get through another day, especially if she wasn’t allowed to tend to William.

  It turned out to be much simpler than she’d anticipated. She kept her focus on putting one foot in front of the other, of completing the next task before her. First, she attended Mass, then broke her fast and spoke with Peter, the cook. On and on, the tasks pulled her through the day. She’d even managed to work more on her design for a new tapestry although she’d found no pleasure in it. Perhaps one day she’d regain that.

  Mary kept her updated on William, but there was little to report as he slept most of the day. Mary and Edith were able to get him to sip a fair amount of broth each time he woke. Mildred had told them not to give him anything more substantial until he was able to rise. Mary’s customary smile was strained, her hands wringing as she reported to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth hadn’t given her any explanation for the change in their routine. She wondered if Nicholas had told Mary to make certain Elizabeth stayed out of William’s chamber. What a dismal thought. No wonder Mary eyed her so worriedly.

  Throughout the day, Elizabeth held tight to the emptiness, doing her best not to think at all. Knowing she couldn’t bear to sit beside Nicholas at meal times, at least not yet, she advised Walter to make certain the meals were served without her. Though the old grizzled servant was obviously unhappy with her request, he complied nonetheless.

  What the future held, she did not know. But of one thing she was sure – she’d had enough pain. Nicholas would hurt her no more. She wouldn’t give him the chance. He wanted a marriage in name only, and that was what he would get.

  *

  “So have you come to your senses yet, my lord?” Walter kept his gaze on the chess board before him.

  Nicholas stared at him, not certain he’d heard correctly. “Surely you aren’t speaking to me.”

  Walter rubbed his finger across his upper lip, studying his possible moves. “Aye, I know, I’m oversteppin’ my bounds. I believe we’ve had that conversation once or twice afore.” He moved his pawn as he looked up at Nicholas warily.

  Nicholas sat back in his chair and looked around the hall, relieved to see it was mostly deserted except for a few remaining servants who cleaned up after supper. He did not want anyone to overhear this conversation. “Walter, I – ”

  “These are desperate times, my lord. Someone needs to put a bit of reason back in that thick head of yers.” Walter glared at him, one eye narrowed and the opposite brow raised.

  The odd expression might’ve amused Nicholas if anger weren’t coursing through him. Though the servant had been with him since boyhood, that did not give him leave to speak so freely.

  Nicholas leaned forward to make certain Walter heard him clearly. “Explain yourself before I take offense to your words.” He moved one of his knights in a bold move to make his point.

  Walter swallowed hard. “Now, my lord, I mean no insult. I have yer best interests at heart. I merely think ya should reconsider the – uh – situation with Lady Elizabeth.”

  “I hardly think the ‘situation’ is any of your business.” Nicholas studied the board again, ready to change the subject.

  “How can ya be sayin’ that?” Walter’s incredulous expression caught Nicholas by surprise.

  Rather than ask what his servant meant, he merely waited, knowing Walter would soon state what was on his mind. The old man obviously referred to the rift between him and Elizabeth, but he couldn’t imagine what was going through Walter’s head.

  He hadn’t seen his wife since he’d told her to stay away from William. Not surprisingly, Elizabeth had thus far avoided any part of the keep he was in. She’d been absent from the meal last night, and he’d yet to see her on this day that was nearly at end. Nicholas had returned to sleeping in the chair beside William’s bed.

  He wavered between being grateful to her because her absence made it easier for him to ignore the situation and angry because it made him feel all the guiltier for his poor treatment of her. Reminders of her presence were everywhere in the keep, from the fresh scent of the rushes on the floor to the food on the table. She was always in his thoughts.

  Walter leaned forward and lowered his voice. “The servants already love Lady Elizabeth dearly, my lord. Of course, they care for yerself as well. ’Tis obvious the two of ya aren’t gettin’ along so well. Why is that? Did ya see somethin’ in a vision?”

  “Nay, it has nothing to do with a vision.” Nicholas shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with the conversation. “I owe my loyalty to William first. Not her.”

  Walter shook his head, clearly not convinced. “She did what needed to be done to protect her father. Sir William will take no offense to that.”

  “William may not remember what happened to him or who nearly took his life.”

  “All I know is that it wasn’t Lady Elizabeth. She’s been workin’ hard to make things right,” Walter said, his mouth firming into a stubborn line. He made a move with his own knight, but his mind was obviously no longer on the game.

  “Whose side are you taking in all this? What of William? Are you ready to forget about the harm done to him now that he’s recovering?”

  “Nay, my lord. Course not, but I’m not so sure the battle lines are drawn where ya think they are. I’m only suggestin’ ya not give Lady Elizabeth up too easily, else ya might pay a steep price.”

  Walter rose. “I’m tired and ready for my bed. I think I’ll sleep in the stables. Good night, my lord.” He bowed formally, his movements slow and careful, then turned and made his way out of the hall, leaving Nicholas staring after him.

  Frustrated by his conversation with Walter, Nicholas was far from ready to retire. He decided to go sit with William again.

  Though his brother had awakened several times during the day, he’d spoken very little. Mildred had cautioned Nicholas against pushing him to remember what had happened until he offered to speak of it for fear he’d forget permanently.

  “Greetings, my lord,” Mary said as he entered William’s chamber. She paused in her thread spinning to curtsy.

  “And to you. How is he faring?”

  “He’s been a bit restless, moaning and tossing.” Mary frowned as she glanced at William. “Mistress Mildred said to keep an eye on him and make sure he’s not in pain.”

  Concerned, Nicholas walked over to William and touched his forehead with the back of his fingers but his skin was cool. “She doesn’t think it to be serious then?”

  “Nay, my lord. He has no fever. She thought he might be having bad dreams, maybe starting to remember things he’d rather not.”

  Nicholas’s worry eased slightly. After all his brother had been through, it was no surprise that he’d have a nightmare or two. His color was still good as far as Nicholas could tell in the low-lit room, and he looked more like he was sleeping than the unconscious state they’d seen so much of. “Has he eaten of late?”

  “He’s had broth several times. Mildred says he’s not ready for anything else until he’s up and about.” Mary rarely had idle hands and after a few brief moments, she lifted her yarn to smooth the thick, uneven
strands into a thin thread on the wooden spindle that bounced at her feet.

  “I suppose not. You’ve been spinning a lot of thread of late,” he commented, his gaze riveted on the dancing spindle, the sight bringing to mind Elizabeth’s same movements. Nicholas doubted that Mary had enough light to spin thread, but soon realized she didn’t need to see.

  Her face lit up at his words. “Oh, indeed, my lord. Lady Elizabeth has started a tapestry. I’m helping with some of the thread. The pattern is beyond description. Have you seen it?”

  Curiosity pricked Nicholas. “Nay.” He had to admit that he was relieved to hear she was weaving. He would’ve liked to watch her do her magic, watch those clever, elegant fingers create the pattern. But that would only lead to trouble.

  Elizabeth had obviously impressed Mary with her skills, for the maid was enthusiastic in her praise about the project.

  “What is the design?” Nicholas asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  Mary looked up at him, eyes wide. “’Tis difficult to describe, my lord. Perhaps you could see it for yourself?”

  Mary’s odd answer made him even more curious. Elizabeth had more talents than any one person had a right to. The keep had been transformed room by room in the short time she’d been here. Walter was correct; the servants did adore her. He’d yet to hear her raise her voice to anyone but him.

  Ironic, that.

  “I’ll sit with William,” he told Mary. “Find some food and rest. I’ll send for you when I need you again.”

  After the maid had taken her leave, he patted his little brother’s good shoulder and tousled his hair. William moved his head, frowned, then settled into the pillow.

  Even that small response lightened Nicholas’s mood. He sat down in the chair nearest the bed and stared at William. Thank God he’d awakened. A great weight had lifted from Nicholas’s shoulders. He truly couldn’t imagine life without him. But his joy was dimmed with regret.

  Sighing, he rubbed his hands over his face. Aye, he admitted. He did regret the harsh words he’d spoken to Elizabeth. He wished things could be different between them, but how could they? Why did he have second sight? Why did she have to be involved in William’s injuries?

  Yet if she hadn’t, he’d most likely never have met her.

  Irony was something of which he’d never been fond.

  *

  Piercing blue light. Sharp pain shot through his temple.

  A familiar hall. Amberley.

  Lord Crefton lay sprawled amid the rushes on the floor.

  His eyes were closed. His face pale. Crimson stained the front of his saffron tunic, spreading even as Nicholas watched.

  “Nicholas?” William’s voice broke through the vision.

  Nicholas shook his head to clear it. He was back in his brother’s chamber. His gaze caught on William’s.

  His brother raised a brow. “A vision?” His voice was low, his words difficult to understand.

  “William!” Nicholas rose to sit on the bed beside his brother. “How do you feel?”

  He seemed to ponder the question as though to give an honest answer. “Was I trampled?”

  “Nay.”

  “Attacked by an army of large men?”

  Nicholas smiled at William’s attempt at humor, warmth spreading through his chest. So typical of him, and so very welcome. “Nay, just a small group of large women.”

  William scoffed, then winced in pain. “In truth, I have to believe it was all of those.”

  Unable to resist, Nicholas grasped William’s hand and held on tight. “You had me scared for a bit, brother. I thought I might lose you.”

  “And leave you on this earth in peace? Never.”

  Ever since Nicholas could remember, William had always responded to any serious matter with a jest. “I would’ve dragged you back to this world kicking and screaming, just so I didn’t have to tell Mother.”

  William smiled weakly. “Water?”

  Nicholas handed him a small cup. William lifted his head, but the effort seemed to overtax him, so Nicholas supported him while he sipped.

  William leaned back. His eyes drifted closed. “How long have I been here?”

  “Over a fortnight now.” Questions burned on the tip of his tongue, but he held back, remembering what Mildred had said.

  “I was at a tournament...in a joust...” William’s voice trailed off, his brow creased at the effort to make sense of the bits he remembered.

  Reluctant to lose his brother’s company so soon, Nicholas responded, hoping William would say more. “Aye.”

  “The vision – what was it about?”

  Nicholas had nearly forgotten about it in his pleasure over seeing William awake again. How much should he tell him? Would the mention of Lord Crefton upset him?

  “No secrets, Nicholas.” William opened his eyes and focused on Nicholas. “Tell me.”

  How many times had they had this exact conversation since William had been old enough to understand Nicholas’s second sight? More than Nicholas could count. “It was of Lord Crefton. Do you remember him?”

  William frowned, his gaze roaming the chamber as though it would give him the information he sought. Then he stopped, his eyes widened. “Crazy bastard.”

  “Aye, the crazy bastard.” Nicholas shifted. “Next time something like this happens, make sure you give me a name. It makes the whole vengeance thing much simpler.”

  “Vengeance? On Crefton? How?”

  Nicholas ran his fingers through his hair. Where to start? Best to just spit it out. Perhaps somehow it would make William feel better that his suffering had been avenged. “I married his daughter.”

  William nearly came up off the bed. “What?”

  “Steady, William,” Nicholas said as he put his hand on his chest to ease him back down. “You’re still very weak.”

  “Elizabeth? You married Lady Elizabeth?”

  “You remember her?”

  “Of course!” William frowned at him. “I can’t see how marrying her causes any hardship. Especially not for you.”

  Nicholas felt heat fill his face. Trust his little brother to thrust his words straight into the heart of the matter. “I took away the one thing Crefton loves.”

  William shifted restlessly. “But Lady Elizabeth? She kept me alive despite her father’s attempt to kill me.”

  A sinking sensation filled Nicholas. “She kept you alive.” He repeated the words slowly, trying to process what William meant.

  “Nicholas, tell me you haven’t hurt her. She defied her father’s orders to help me. She snuck food and water to me and tended my injury. She got me blankets and kept me sane those few days while I was locked in that damned dungeon.”

  “I...” Nicholas had been about to state that he hadn’t harmed Elizabeth, but he knew in his heart that wasn’t true. He’d hurt her terribly, just not physically.

  “Nicholas!” William’s obvious upset only increased Nicholas’s angst. “Tell me!”

  “Hell’s teeth, brother, she left you in a cart at the gate of my keep! What would you have me do? Ignore that?” Nicholas stood, unable to sit still any longer.

  “She brought me to safety. To you. Why would that be punishable?”

  Nicholas paced the chamber, the pain in his gut making it difficult to breathe. “The journey in that cart did more harm than good. How did she know I’d even discover you? She should’ve stayed and seen to your safety.” Yet he already knew the answer to that.

  “She promised not to leave until someone found me. I agreed to keep her identity a secret. That was our plan, but she had to hide it from her father.” He drew a slow breath. “Surely you know he’s not in his right mind.”

  “Aye, I saw that for myself.”

  William’s tone had quieted. “So since you couldn’t fight the crazed old man, you took Elizabeth?”

  “Damn it, yes!” Nicholas flung his hand through the air. “I couldn’t let your injuries go unpunished! The priest gave you last
rites, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Nicholas, neither Crefton nor Elizabeth caused my injuries. Crefton struck me on the head, but someone else did so before that. I was attacked just before I entered the jousting field. When I woke, the old man was standing over me, saw my shoulder, yelled bloody murder, and then knocked me unconscious again.” He touched the side of his head gingerly as he spoke. “The rest is a little unclear. I know I was bound and gagged, and dragged onto a boat. I have but a few vague memories of crossing the channel from Normandy, though that must’ve taken a few days. The next thing I remember is waking in Crefton’s dungeon.”

  “Then who struck your shoulder? They damned near cut off your arm.” Nicholas could see the conversation was tiring him, but he couldn’t stop. He needed answers.

  “I don’t know. Whoever it was took my surcoat.” He paused, his voice growing weaker. “I was set up by someone, but it would make no sense for Crefton to do so.”

  “Set up for what?” Nicholas could make no sense of what William was saying.

  “For Elizabeth’s brother’s murder.”

  Nicholas stared at his brother in shock, unsure what to think or feel. How could he have been so mistaken? Once again, he’d let his visions guide him in the wrong direction.

  William drew a weary breath. “Why did you marry Elizabeth?”

  “I married her to take her away from Crefton. To take away the one he loved, just as he’d taken you away from me.”

  “And she agreed to that?”

  Nicholas scoffed. “She’s the one who suggested it.”

  “To protect her father. She’d do anything to protect him. So she’s here, at Staverton?”

  Nicholas nodded.

  “No wonder I dreamt of her.” William smiled weakly. “They were very pleasant dreams.”

  Annoyance shot through Nicholas. “William,” he admonished his brother.

  William gave him a rather lecherous smile, evident even on his pale, gaunt face. “I’m a man, aren’t I? Who could look at her and not think of – ”

  “William!”

  “All right. I’m merely saying – ”

  “Christ!” Nicholas turned and walked away, unable to bear William even thinking of Elizabeth in that way.