Margaret Moore - [Warrior 14] (16 page)

“A good man, that’s what she saw,” Becca said with firm conviction. “And you loved her.”

“Aye, I loved her,” Dobbin murmured as he returned to the stool beside the bed. “Too selfishly, or I never would have gotten her with child. I would have been content to worship her from a distance.”

“I’m sure she loved you, too, Dobbin. And if loving you was selfish, I don’t condemn her for giving in to it.”

“She wasn’t
weak,
Becca,” he replied. “She was good and kind, but strong as iron, too. She had to be, to put up with the pain your father brought her. He tried to break her spirit, the way he tried to break
yours, but he had no more luck with her than he did with you.”

Becca thought of how she’d felt when she first began to believe that Blaidd truly liked her. “She had your love to give her strength.”

“Not at first. Not for a long time. I admired and respected her from the beginning, of course. And when I realized what was happening, I fought against it. So did she. She was an honorable woman.”

“But she was miserable and she turned to you for comfort, and then love. I’m glad she had you to love her, Dobbin. Very glad.” Becca reached out and took his hands in hers. “I’m
proud
that you’re my father.”

“And I’m more than proud that you’re my daughter.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “
My
daughter.”

A silence filled with heartfelt emotions no words could express stretched between them.

Then Dobbin’s expression changed, to one of grave concern. “You can’t tell anybody else about this, Becca. This’ll have to be our secret still.”

“Why not?” she asked, dismayed. “I’m not ashamed to admit that you’re—”

“For the people of Throckton. Who else will speak for them, and make sure the king knows nobody else here—not you, not Laelia, not me or my men—was in on that lout’s schemes? Laelia may be the eldest, but she’s only good for weeping and wailing.”

Becca realized he was likely right. “Yes, I see,” she murmured, “but I don’t like it.”

“D’you think I do?” Dobbin asked, frowning.
“But we’ve got no choice. You’ve got to think of the household, and I’ve got to think of my men.”

“Where is Laelia? Did you tell her about—?”

“Last I heard, she was in the chapel, crying.
He
told her what happened.”

It wasn’t hard to guess to whom Dobbin was referring, and Becca’s heart filled with sorrow—for Laelia and also for Blaidd, for having to be the one to tell her about her father’s death. “Has Blaidd said anything about what’s going to happen now?”

Dobbin shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard, but he’s taken command of the castle. He’s ordered the Danes to leave. They rode away at dawn.”

“I want to see him, Dobbin, as soon as possible. Will you find him for me?”

They were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door.

“Ah, that’ll be Meg with the broth,” Dobbin said, slapping his hands on his thighs as he got to his feet.

But it wasn’t Meg who walked into the room.

It was a grim, grave Sir Blaidd Morgan, and he was dressed for battle.

O
r so it seemed to Becca, for he wore chain mail beneath his cloak and spurs on his heels, and he carried a helmet under his arm.

His broadsword slapped his thigh as he marched forward more like a soldier on parade than a man coming to see the woman he loved, the woman he’d saved from certain death. “I hope I find you recovering, my lady.”

“You do,” she murmured, dismayed by his stiff bearing and the cool way he spoke.

“I’m sorry to have to be the bearer of more bad news.”

Becca pushed herself up, regardless of the pain her action caused. “What bad news?”

Blaidd’s distant, steadfast regard faltered. “I regret to have to tell you this, my lady, but your sister’s…” He hesitated, then straightened and went on. “It seems, my lady, that your sister has run away.”

“Run away?” Becca cried incredulously.

“So it appears.” Blaidd’s expression grew even grimmer. “Last night she said she wanted to keep a vigil over your father’s body in the chapel. I saw no harm in it, provided one of the servants stayed with her. Apparently the servant fell asleep, and when she awoke, your sister was no longer there. The servant came to me at once, and I ordered a search of the castle. This was found in your bedchamber, which was in some disarray.”

Blaidd came forward and thrust a piece of parchment at her. “She
can
write?”

“Yes, although not very well,” Becca replied. “I wanted to learn, to keep the household accounts, but she didn’t. My fa—Lord Throckton insisted.”

“The letters are very shaky.”

“Hers always are.”

Becca read the messily scrawled words. It was a note of farewell, addressed to her and saying that Laelia was leaving with Valdemar. That Becca could have all her clothes and jewels.

She read it through three times before she could fully comprehend what Laelia had done, and why.

Then she raised her eyes to regard Blaidd before looking at Dobbin’s worried face. “She’s run off with Valdemar.”

“She always wanted to go to court, but I thought she meant the English one,” he muttered, not hiding his scorn.

“I’m not convinced she went willingly,” Blaidd declared.

Becca spoke to Dobbin again. “Your men would
have come to you if there was anything amiss at the walls or gate, even if you were tending to me, wouldn’t they?”

“Aye, my lady. Nobody can get past my sentries.”

“Your sentries didn’t catch me going over the wall,” Blaidd noted.

“Oh, didn’t they?” Dobbin retorted, raising a brow.

Blaidd’s face betrayed nothing. “This still could be a trick, or some sort of revenge on Valdemar’s part.”

“If she
wanted
to go and not be seen, there is a way,” Becca said. “It’s known only to the family, but I’m sure I can trust you with the knowledge, Sir Blaidd.”

She hoped he would appreciate her choice of words and how much she was willing to trust him now. “There’s a secret passageway out of the castle, in case we’re ever besieged. The entrance is in the chapel.”

“Maybe the Danes found out about the passageway,” Blaidd suggested. “Perhaps Throckton told them. They could have come in and taken her out that way.”

Dobbin snorted. “Ain’t you noticed how she’s been looking at the man? After what’s happened, she’s likely terrified you’re planning to have her arrested. No wonder she ran off with him. I wouldn’t waste my time chasin’ after ’er.”

“You might not, but
I
must,” Blaidd countered. “I gave the Danes the opportunity to leave. If there’s
even the slightest chance they’ve kidnapped Laelia, I’ve got to bring her back.” Finally, he looked again at Becca, this time with something approaching deference. “You do want to be certain it was her choice, don’t you, my lady?”

“Yes, of course, I want to be completely certain Laelia went willingly,” she replied, pleased that he was not quite so distant.

“I’ll take twenty of your men and head after them,” he said to Dobbin.

“There’s fifty Danes,” Dobbin pointed out.

“So twenty of your well-trained men ought to be plenty if it comes to a fight.”

“Twenty-one, because I’m going with you,” Dobbin replied.

Blaidd turned to leave, then looked back at Becca. “If she fled because she feared me, she had no cause. I am well aware that neither of you were knowingly involved in your father’s plans, and I intend to make certain Henry knows that, too.”

When he spotted the Danish cortege not ten miles from Throckton Castle, Blaidd had the grim satisfaction of realizing that Lady Laelia had indeed probably chosen to go with Valdemar. If Valdemar had kidnapped her, he would surely have urged his men to ride at the gallop and been farther away by now. They must have gone at the more leisurely pace Laelia preferred.

Distinguishable by his bearing and his hair, Valdemar was at the head of the entourage. A blond
woman clad in a blue cloak rode beside him, another sign that this was no abduction.

In spite of the evidence, Blaidd was still determined to speak to them. As he’d told Becca, he represented the king, and he had to be absolutely certain there was no mischief here.

Shouting an order for Dobbin’s men to follow, Blaidd spurred Aderyn Du into a gallop. Trev would be sorry he’d missed a charge like this, but Blaidd had ordered him—forcefully—to remain behind. This was no tournament or practice drill, and he wouldn’t risk Trev getting hurt.

Valdemar twisted in his saddle to look behind him when he heard the noise. Around him, his soldiers’ horses shifted nervously and whinnied as their riders tried to control them. Some of the men gave up and took off down the road. More joined them, disobeying Valdemar’s shouted commands. The woman started to scream.

Blaidd expected Valdemar to flee, but the man stood his ground and stayed beside his companion, who was, indeed, Laelia. By the time Blaidd and his men reached them, they were the only members of his party left. Even Valdemar’s baggage cart had disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.

The Dane positioned his horse in front of Laelia, blocking her from Blaidd and his men.

“I thought I was free to go,” he said, still arrogant, still very much the prince.

“You’re free to leave England, Valdemar, and the
sooner the better,” Blaidd replied. “It’s because of the lady I’ve come after you.”

Laelia nudged her horse forward, so that she was beside the Danish prince. “I chose to go with him,” she said, and Blaidd could hardly believe the firm, stern voice belonged to the same woman. “You’re not my father or brother. You have no authority over me. You can’t make me return with you.”

“Since you have no father or brother, Henry is your legal guardian until such time as your nearest male relative is found, or you’re married, so as Henry’s representative, I do have authority over you,” Blaidd answered.

“There aren’t any male heirs,” Laelia replied. “And you’re looking at the man I intend to marry.”

Blaidd turned his attention to Valdemar, whose horse was prancing nervously. Blaidd saw fear in the man’s eyes, but it wasn’t as if he feared pain or death. He looked like a man afraid of losing something he held dear. “You’re willing to marry her?”

“Yes,” he answered firmly, and without hesitation. “I would have this woman for my wife.”

“You’ll take her without a dowry?” Blaidd asked, although he thought he already had his answer. He didn’t doubt that their feelings for one another were sincere. Nevertheless, he felt it necessary to make certain Laelia and Valdemar understood all the ramifications of their actions. “If Laelia goes with you now, you’ll get only what she has with her. Her father was a traitor and everything he possessed is forfeit to the crown. The king could take her title, too.”

“I want the woman, not the dowry or a title,” Valdemar said, as if Blaidd’s remarks were barely worth a response. “She will be my wife, a worthy mother of my sons.
Legitimate
sons,” he declared with fierce resolution. “I give you my word she will not be a mistress, but a prince’s bride.”

Blaidd heard the ring of truth in his words, saw the sincerity in his eyes. “I believe you.” He even managed to smile. “Maybe you’re not a pirate, after all.”

Valdemar’s shoulders relaxed. “Then you’ll let us go?”

“Yes.” Blaidd turned to Laelia. “You do understand all that you’re giving up?”

Laelia smiled, and never had she looked more beautiful or happy. “I do—and what I’m gaining, too. I love Valdemar, and he loves me.”

“You may never be able to return to England, not even to visit.”

Laelia’s delicate chin began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. “The only thing I’ll miss is Becca. Please tell her I hope she’ll be happy, and that one day she’ll find happiness with a man she loves, as I have. Tell her goodbye and may God bless her. If He is kind, perhaps we’ll see other again someday.”

Valdemar reached out and covered her hand with his. Laelia looked at him, and if Blaidd needed any confirmation that he was doing the right thing by letting them leave together, he had it then. “Go to your ship, Valdemar,” he said. “I’ll take your message to your sister, Lady Laelia.”

“What will you tell your king?” Valdemar asked.

Blaidd thought a moment. “That Lady Laelia fell in love with a Viking and fled with him rather than risk her sovereign’s wrath.” Blaidd gave them another little smile. “He’ll like that last part.”

“Farewell, Sir Blaidd Morgan,” Valdemar said, smiling in return. “I’m glad we didn’t meet in battle. It would have been a great pity to kill you.”

“I would have regretted killing you, too,” Blaidd said.

Then he watched as Valdemar and Laelia turned their horses and headed down the road. Together.

When Blaidd returned to the castle, he tossed his reins to the waiting Trev, leaped from Aderyn Du’s back and immediately went to see Becca. Meg opened the door to Lord Throckton’s bedchamber and ushered him inside, where he came to an awkward halt. Becca was sitting up in the luxuriously appointed bed, her bountiful, dark brown hair loose about her shoulders. She looked young and lovely and vulnerable, although far too pale.

Sir Blaidd Morgan, knight of the realm, champion of tournaments, friend of the king and supposedly able to whisper a woman to bed, suddenly felt as shy as a lad, and tongue-tied, too.

As he stood there, all his errors seemed to pile up on him. He’d killed her father. He’d wooed her while in her home under false pretenses. He’d as good as lied to her.

The questions that had been haunting him since he’d left this room returned in full force. Would his
love make up for all his deceit, and would self-defense excuse him of causing her father’s death? Or would she hate him now, thinking him nothing but a deceitful spy and the cause of her family’s destruction?

He stood in silence, waiting for her to speak, to say something, to give him some indication of her feelings.

“Meg,” Becca said as if he were any other visitor, “leave us, please.”

Meg glanced at them uncertainly.

“I want to speak with Sir Blaidd
alone,
Meg.”

As the girl went out and closed the door behind her, Blaidd hoped the tension would ease, but he discovered the opposite was true. He wasn’t sure what to say to her, or if he should even venture onto personal ground.

The silence lasted until he could stand it no more. Then he took refuge in news of Laelia. “It was your sister’s choice to go with Valdemar.”

Becca nodded, her expression betraying nothing except mild interest. “I thought so.”

“I had to be sure.”

“Yes, I appreciate that. And I’m relieved there is no hint of doubt.” Her gaze faltered. “I only wish we’d had a chance to say goodbye.”

Blaidd instantly regretted not ordering Laelia to return and take proper leave of her sister. “She was upset about leaving you,” he told her. “She said you’d be the only thing she’d miss. She also hopes you’ll be happy one day.”

Becca looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I see.”

“I truly believe she loves Valdemar, and he cares for her,” Blaidd continued, stepping closer, then halting a few feet from the bed. “She has no dowry, and Valdemar was content that it be so. I believe they’ll be married. If I didn’t, and that she wasn’t going of her own free will, I wouldn’t have allowed them to leave.”

Becca slid him a glance. “
You
wouldn’t have allowed it?”

All he could do was be honest. “I do represent the king, my lady.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that.”

He immediately wished he’d said something else.

“So what will happen to me now, Sir Blaidd?”

He wanted to say, “Now we’ll marry,” but he couldn’t. Her future depended on Henry, not him.

Even if Henry believed that she was innocent of involvement in her father’s conspiracy, he might still be doubtful of her allegiance. To prove her loyalty, she would have to do whatever Henry commanded.

Blaidd hoped to convince Henry of her innocence and persuade the king to let them marry, but if he could not, they’d have no choice but to abide by the king’s will. Becca’s life could depend upon it.

And if this were so, knowing that he loved her still might only add to her misery. He should keep his distance and say nothing of love, for both their sakes.

“What do you think Henry will do with the daugh
ter of a traitor?” she asked, echoing his own distraught thoughts. “Will he imprison me?”

“There’s nothing to charge you with,” Blaidd replied. “You weren’t a coconspirator with your father. I’m absolutely certain of that, so Henry should be, too.”

“You have that much influence with the king?”

“I believe he’ll listen to me, my lady. I’ll assure him of your innocence.”

“Thank you. Will he take away my title and inheritance?”

“I honestly don’t know, my lady. I think there’s a good chance that once he’s convinced of your innocence, he’ll make you a royal ward and allow you to keep your title and at least a portion of this estate, for a dowry.”

How her intense gaze seemed to search his mind! “Then I suppose that, like most men who have power over women, he’ll want me to marry where my inheritance will do
him
the most good. Perhaps Queen Eleanor has a relative who needs a wife.”