CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

Sophia entered the great hall, nerves making her fists clench, hoping to find Ilisa there unharmed. But Gilbert stood speaking with several men near the massive hearth where a fire burned. Though the afternoon was mild, the keep had always felt cold. Now it felt even colder as Gilbert’s narrowed gaze fell on her.

He held up his hand to the man who spoke and silence filled the hall. His height and build alone were intimidating, but he also had a commanding presence.

The servant who’d entered to announce her arrival but not yet succeeded in his mission stepped closer to the governor, keeping his head bowed. “Lady Sophia would like to speak with you, my lord.”

“So I see,” he said. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the men and all left the hall, some glancing at her curiously as they passed.

Sophia kept her gaze on Gilbert. His gray beard helped to mask his expression, and his hazel eyes revealed little.

“Good day, Lady Sophia.” He gave the barest of bows.

Impatience at bothering with social courtesies poured through her, but she had no desire to anger him until she’d seen her sister. She sank into a curtsy in her simple kirtle as though it were the finest gown. “And to you.”

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” He watched her as he took a seat in one of the chairs near the fire, his fingers toying with the silver goblet on the table beside him, his expression telling her nothing.

She lowered her gaze to the floor to hide her anger, praying that her presence here was enough to get what she wanted. “I’ve come to request my sister’s freedom.”

“Your sister? Lady Ilisa?” His brows raised in surprise.

“I believe you know her.” She couldn’t help the bite to her tone. She lifted her lashes enough to study the man. Why was he acting as though her request was a surprise? She’d been so certain Ilisa was here.

“Of course. I simply don’t understand why you’re requesting this from me.”

Sophia stared at him in shock. Had she gotten everything wrong? Was Ilisa not here? Her thoughts scattered as she tried to think of where else she might be.

Or was he deceiving her?

Sensing someone behind her, Sophia turned to see Hadden, the steward, standing near the hall entrance. Whether he was simply enjoying the entertainment their conversation provided or awaiting an order from Sir Gilbert, she didn’t know. His presence annoyed her all the same. She turned so both men were fully in view as she didn’t trust either.

She forced a small smile as she returned her attention to Gilbert. “Is she here?” She’d press him until he gave her an answer instead of a cryptic comment.

“I suppose that depends.” His hazel eyes glittered with the firelight.

“On what?” Enough with the twisted, vague responses, she wanted to scream. Just tell me the truth.

“Some information can only be shared for a price.”

Her stomach tightened with dread. She had thought through this scenario many times on her way here. Unfortunately, no clever ways to resolve it had come to mind, nor did anything arise now. But she’d be damned if she’d grovel before this man.

She held his gaze. “What price would that be?”

“I believe I’ve mentioned to you that I am in need of a wife.”

Sophia’s throat burned with bile. Surely he hadn’t forced Ilisa to marry him. That was a possibility she’d never before considered.

What could’ve caused her sister to come here? She masked her roiling emotions as best she could, not wanting to give him more of the upper hand than he already had. “I believe you mentioned it once or twice.”

Though she knew she risked much by acting as though his proposal had meant so little to her that she barely remembered it, she couldn’t help it. Her words were the only weapon she possessed at the moment.

His scowl gave her a small measure of satisfaction.

“I thought you already had an heir or two,” she added. “Surely that is enough for any man. Greed for more might only bring God’s wrath upon you.”

“You know very well that I have four sons. But a lord can never have too many. Life can be harsh. Besides, additional heirs are not the only reason for marrying.”

“Oh?”

“A wife provides many services.” His broad smile made her ill. “She runs the households of my numerous holdings, helps with the servants, not to mention other, far more pleasurable pursuits.”

The idea of sharing a bed with Gilbert caused her stomach to churn. Especially after the passion of Garrick’s embrace. The two men couldn’t be more different than night and day.

How would she ever endure it?

For the briefest of moments, she longed for Garrick to rescue her. To force Gilbert to release her sister.

But Garrick didn’t even know where she was. His wellbeing was far more important than her own. He’d suffered far too much, had nearly paid with his life. This was not his fight. This was hers alone. She had what Gilbert wanted. It seemed she’d have no choice but to give it to him. She only hoped it wasn’t too late to save Ilisa.

Still she hesitated, wishing with all her heart that there was another way. Some other deal she could strike.

Gilbert’s gaze shifted from her to the steward, and he gave a barely discernible nod.

Sophia’s heart raced. What had that order meant?

“You have something I want, and I have something you want.” Gilbert smiled again. “Striking a bargain should be simple enough.”

The steward stepped into the hall, Ilisa at his side. She was dressed in a plum kirtle with gold embroidery about the neck. The cream linen sleeves were embroidered with plum thread to match the gown. A jeweled girdle sat low on her hips. Her hair was plaited in an intricate pattern and covered by a fine gold net. Her sister had never been dressed so finely. Or looked so miserable.

“Sophia,” she began.

“Silence,” Gilbert interrupted. “You will speak only when I give permission.” He turned to Sophia. “Your sister kindly paid a visit to me under the mistaken assumption that I had your brother.”

Sophia looked at Ilisa, confused as to why Ilisa would believe that.

Even as Ilisa opened her mouth to answer, Gilbert held up his hand and gave a warning glare. He turned back to Sophia. “She says she received a message stating her brother was here. However, I sent no such message.”

Sophia’s gaze narrowed. “Then who would?”

Gilbert waved a hand, dismissing her question. “I neither know nor care.” He gestured for Hadden to bring Ilisa to him.

Sophia could read the rebellion in her sister’s eyes, but Gilbert wasn’t paying attention. Could they manage to overpower the two men? At the very least she wanted to draw out the conversation to see if she could determine a plan. “How can you not be curious as to who would send her such a message?”

He frowned at her. “Why would I be?”

Sophia’s thoughts raced as she shared a glance of alarm with her sister. “Why would someone want Ilisa here? Surely they knew I would come looking for her. What possible purpose could it serve to have us both here?”

Gilbert pondered the question briefly but only shook his head. “I do not know nor do I care.” He drank from his goblet then stood. Suddenly he paused. “Unless...”

“What is it?”

“Never mind.”

“If you know something, you should tell me,” Sophia warned.

“’Tis of no consequence.” He shook his head.

Sophia’s unease only grew. She didn’t pretend to understand what was happening but knew she needed to get Ilisa away as quickly as she could. “Ilisa and I are leaving.”

“I do not think so.” Gilbert took Ilisa’s arm, causing her to cry out at his painful grip.

Sophia was well aware he was using Ilisa to force her to comply. Casting Ilisa a silent plea to break free of his hold, she took a step back. “We are leaving. Now.”

Before Sophia blinked, Gilbert released Ilisa and lunged for her. She drew back but not quick enough. His grip on her arm was far too tight, too strong for her to break free, but still she tried. Until he drew his knife and waved it before her face. “You’re not going anywhere.”

 

~*~

 

Garrick decided he did not care for small, enclosed places. The tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly before them. Their torchlight barely penetrated the darkness and progress was slower than he’d like. The flickering light danced along the rough walls, casting shadows that hid what might lay ahead.

Why had he allowed Sophia out of his sight? He never should’ve let her go. Now he could only hope that he would find her. If they ever came to the end of this damned tunnel.

“How much farther?” he asked Alec who walked beside him.

The boy shook his head. “I’m not certain. It seemed a long way then too.”

Garrick knew Alec must be assailed by memories, most of which were highly unpleasant. But the boy continued forward. Garrick clapped him on the back, the only comfort he could offer at the moment.

A glance behind him showed Braden following closely. His cousin appeared anything but pleased based on the frown he wore. Garrick assumed he didn’t care for the narrow space either.

A stone set of stairs appeared in the dim light before them.

“We’re nearing the keep,” Alec said, the relief in his voice obvious. “There are two more sets of stairs after this. That much I remember.”

Garrick couldn’t help but think of a frightened Sophia, guiding her family down the steps with the hope of safety from the slaughter taking place in the city. She had been through so much.

What was she enduring now at Gilbert’s hands?

 

~*~

 

“Release me at once,” Sophia demanded. She attempted to wrench away from Gilbert’s hand despite the knife, but he held fast.

“Not now that I finally have you.” His smile gave her pause. “I am keeping you. I look forward to the shock on your brother’s face when I introduce him to my new wife almost as much as I want to feel your body beneath mine.”

He leaned closer, his hot sour breath revolting. She couldn’t escape his kiss as he pressed his mouth against hers. Though she wanted to shout at him, she kept her lips firmly closed, denying him access.

“Cease this madness,” Ilisa demanded.

Gilbert lifted his head to glare at her. “Quiet.”

Sophia could see her sister just beyond Gilbert but realized no help would come from that quarter. Hadden held her firmly.

The steward’s head turned to the side. Sophia followed his gaze to see Thomas, the butcher, standing just inside the entrance to the hall with two large companions.

“Who are you?” Gilbert demanded. “Why are you in my hall?”

Thomas smiled, the hook-shaped scar near his mouth turning white as he did so. “Greetings, Sir Gilbert. I am called Thomas and I am here on behalf of the Sentinels of Scotland.”

Gilbert stiffened, his sudden fear palpable. “What do you want?”

“I think you know.” Thomas nodded as he glanced at Sophia. “Else you’ll know soon enough.” He drew a knife from the scabbard on his belt. The long, sharp blade glinted in the torchlight of the hall.

Sophia’s heart pounded with fear. None of this made sense. But based on Gilbert’s reaction, he was afraid of the Sentinels, whoever they were. If Gilbert was alarmed by Thomas’s words, how could she not be?

“Thomas, what is happening?” Sophia asked, at last succeeding in pulling away from Gilbert’s grasp.

“My apologies, Lady Sophia. Ye have never been anything but kind to me.” Thomas shook his head as though regretful. “But my orders are clear.” His expression hardened.

“Orders from whom?” Sophia wanted to know what he was doing and why. And if he took the time to answer, perhaps she’d have time to devise a way out. After seeing what he’d done to Garrick and Iagan, she knew all too well what Thomas was capable of. Murder in any form came quite easily to the man. “Thomas, what is all this about?”

“How did you enter the keep?” Gilbert demanded. “You couldn’t possibly have passed by my soldiers.”

“I am merely a butcher who frequently delivers meat to the keep. This day, I happened to have extra orders.” Thomas grinned, the scar giving a twist to his mouth that made him look crazed.

Her stomach tightened at the daunting task before her. Not only did she need to determine a way to rescue Ilisa and escape Gilbert’s clutches, now she also needed to also escape Thomas’s.

 

~*~

 

“I think this is the right door,” Alec said though his tone held doubt. “I believe this is the one by the kitchen.” He glanced down the tunnel. “There’s another set of stairs and those take you to the upper chambers. I think.”

“Well done,” Garrick said. “As long as it takes us into the keep, it will do.” He turned to his cousins. “Are we ready?”

“What is our plan?” Braden asked.

Garrick shook his head, for he didn’t know what awaited them. He only wanted to barge into the keep and do whatever it took to rescue Sophia. To have her back in his arms again.

And once he did, he didn’t intend to let go.

“Our plan is simple. We enter. We find Sophia and Ilisa. We defeat Gilbert and whoever else he has at his side—”

“You think more than Gilbert holds them?” Chanse asked.

“You’ve met Sophia and Ilisa,” Garrick said. “I have doubts that Gilbert is capable of holding the two of them without assistance. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Braden smiled. “You may be right. The both have strong minds.”

“The door is stuck.” Alec tugged on the leather strap that served as a handle, his voice low.

Chanse held the torch aloft. “Nothing Braden can’t handle.” He turned to smile at his brother.

“Are your arms broken?” Braden asked as he stepped forward and tugged on the strap to test it. The door remained firmly shut.

“I’m holding the light. I’d wager it takes you two tries to open it.”

“Now you’re just insulting me.”

Garrick appreciated his cousins’ attempt at humor for Alec’s sake. The boy shook his head as he stepped away from the door to give Braden room. “Do they always do that?” he asked Garrick.

“Aye. Always.” Garrick shared a smile with the lad.

Braden braced a foot on the wall and heaved on the strap, opening the door on the first try. He gave a smug smile to Chanse, holding the door mostly shut before turning to Garrick. “I’d feel better if we had a real plan.”

“But we do,” Chanse said. “We enter. We find Sophia and Ilisa, and—”

“We defeat Gilbert,” Braden finished for him. He gave his brother a light punch on the arm. “Aye. I heard that part already.”

“What more do we need?” Chanse asked as he rubbed his arm. “Let us go.”

Garrick turned to Alec. “Wait here. We’ll escape this way as well to avoid fighting the entire garrison. Listen for us and have the door ready when we return with your sisters.”

“Nay.” Alec grabbed his arm. “I would come as well. They’re my sisters.”

“’Tis far too dangerous.”

“But I know the keep. You might need me.”

Garrick hesitated, considering the boy’s request. He did not want to put Alec in any danger. Yet he might be doing so by leaving him here. Especially since they didn’t know what they’d face once they entered. And he might prove useful if they needed to find their way around.

“Very well,” Garrick relented. “But you will stay out of sight. If you are captured as well, your sister would have my hide.”

Alec nodded.

With one last glance at his companions, Garrick eased open the door.

Alec peered around him and breathed a sigh of relief. “I was right,” he whispered. “The kitchen is to the right and the hall is the opposite.”

“Let us try the hall first.” Garrick put his hand on the hilt of his sword that was hidden by his monk’s robe.

With Alec directing him, Garrick led the way, easing toward the hall. As they grew closer, he heard voices. He slowed his steps and listened.

“This is my hall and you will do as I say.”

Garrick guessed Gilbert must be speaking. He eased nearer, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sophia.

A man stood with his back to Garrick, holding a woman. But Garrick realized at once it was Ilisa, not Sophia. Still he took it as a good sign that Sophia was here as well.

“I am not subject to your orders.”

The voice chilled Garrick to the bone. Thomas. What on earth was he doing here? His mouth dry, he took another step, moving quietly so as not to alert the man holding Ilisa. As he’d suspected, the same two men who’d helped Thomas attempt to drown him stood behind the butcher.

The odds were worsening by the moment.

“How many?” Braden whispered in his ear.

Garrick held up five fingers. He wasn’t certain whose side Gilbert might be on, but from the look of the knife in Thomas’s hand, Garrick guessed it wouldn’t be Thomas’s.

He heard Braden’s groan and shoved aside the momentary doubt it gave him. The odds were not in their favor. If only he could change that.

Chanse raised his brows as though asking if they should proceed. Garrick shook his head. He wanted to listen to see if they could learn anything more, especially the reason Thomas was there.

“Are you the one who sent Ilisa the message telling her my brother was here?” The sound of Sophia’s voice loosened the knot in Garrick’s chest. From the direction of her voice, she must be near Gilbert.

Alec gasped in dismay. Garrick shook his head at the boy to remind him to be quiet.

“The message was part of the plan,” Thomas said. “We wanted all of ye here.”

“For what purpose?” Gilbert asked.

“’Tis well known that Sir Gilbert has no love for the Douglas family. What better revenge than for him to kill the two sisters?”

“No one will believe such a lie,” Gilbert said. “Nor will I confess to it.”

“The sisters are not so helpless that they don’t manage to injure ye during yer attack on them. ’Tis a pity that ye die from yer wounds.”

“Who devised this crazed plan?” Sophia asked.

Garrick was relieved to hear anger in her voice rather than fear.

“The Sentinels of Scotland wish to restore our country to Scottish rule,” Gilbert offered. “What better way to do so then rid our lands of the English and those who sympathize with them? Isn’t that right, Thomas?”

Sentinels? Prioress Matilda had spoken of the Guardians. Who were the Sentinels? A tap on Garrick’s shoulder had him looking back. Again Chanse signaled his readiness to proceed but Garrick shook his head. If Thomas would reveal who the Guardians were, they might be able to stop future bloodshed.

“Who are they?” Sophia asked.

“That is of no matter to ye,” Thomas said. “If all goes according to plan, yer brothers will soon follow ye to the grave.”

“We had nothing to do with the siege. Surely you know that, Thomas,” Sophia said. Her voice had taken on a desperate edge.

“Yer brother, William, has one foot in Scotland and one in England, as does Sir Gilbert. That is not tolerable.”

“Beliefs such as that make us no better than the men who laid siege to our city two years past,” Sophia argued. “Surely you of all people know that, Thomas.”

Only silence greeted her response.

“If this is a matter of money,” Gilbert began.

“Yer coins cannot buy me. Not after what the English pigs did to me and my family.”

Garrick fought the urge to rush into the hall. If possible, he needed the name for one of those in the Sentinels. As long as no harm was befalling Sophia or Ilisa, he would hold. Gilbert’s wellbeing was not his responsibility. Thomas had a stubborn side to him from what little Garrick knew of him. The chance of Garrick forcing Thomas to state the name of who was involved was unlikely. He doubted beating the man would have any affect. But perhaps Thomas would reveal a name in the heat of the moment.

Why didn’t Gilbert question Thomas further? Did he not care what the Sentinels intended? He should, especially since he might pay for it with his life.

“I’ve never committed any disloyal acts to the city of Berwick or Scotland,” Gilbert blustered.

Thomas scoffed. “Now ye tell lies.”

Garrick suddenly realized why Gilbert wasn’t asking who was involved in the Sentinels—because he already knew. Was he one of them?

No matter. Garrick had no intention of letting them succeed in hurting any members of the Douglas family. If Gilbert survived this encounter, Garrick would have a better chance of gaining a name from him than Thomas.

“But first the two women must die,” Thomas said.

Garrick’s heart caught in his throat.

“Curse you, Thomas,” Sophia called out. “Damn you to hell’s fires. Your hatred of the English will only lead to more bloodshed for the entire city.”

Sophia’s words spurred an idea. Garrick turned to his cousins to whisper, “Follow my lead.”

With Sophia’s words and the threat to her life propelling him forward, he drew the hood of his cloak over his head and staggered into the hall, moaning as he went.