Chapter Fourteen
In the morning, instead of reading and sewing, Lady Dacre asked Maddy to accompany her while she attended to various housekeeping tasks. They went over accounts with Mistress Derby, spent further time inventorying and dispersing the goods from Naworth Castle, and visited the stillroom, where jars of herbs were lined up in neat rows.
“I must do some compounding,” she said. “You may return to your chamber and attend to your own tasks, my dear.”
Maddy left the lady to her herbal salves and balms and began walking back toward Dacre Hall. A man moving across the grounds from the abbey came into view. He was not on any path but was simply cutting through mud and slush and stepping around the ruins of the cloisters. Although the day was reasonably warm, he had pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, and it partially concealed his face. Though he did not acknowledge her in any way, she had the impression it was she he was seeking out. Sure enough, when their paths crossed, he pressed a paper into her hand and kept on walking, now rather hurriedly. Acutely aware this could be a message from Ryder, she pressed her hand into her skirt and did not dare glance at it until she was safely in her chamber.
It was indeed from Nicholas Ryder, who bid her meet him at twilight, at the Roman wall north of the priory. She could not imagine the urgency behind this command. What might have happened that called for a clandestine meeting tonight, instead of waiting for their usual appointment on market day?
After an hour or so of reading and sewing after dinner, Lady Dacre excused herself. Maddy suspected the morning’s exertions had taken their toll, and she would be napping until it was time to dress for supper. Breathing a sigh of relief, Maddy set off toward her chamber. When she neared the kitchen, Mistress Derby called to her. She wished she could ignore the woman, but her voice was so loud, Maddy could not pretend she hadn’t heard.
The cook had an array of vegetables spread out over her worktable and continued chopping until Maddy stood before her. “Thought you might like to know, mistress. Cath hasn’t come to work for a sennight. I sent word round to her family asking after her. They thought she was here.”
A sick feeling curdled Maddy’s stomach. “Are you sure?”
“That she hasn’t been here? Wouldn’t I know that?” Mistress Derby looked at Maddy as though she thought her not quite sane. “And what reason would her mother have to lie?”
“Does Lady Dacre know?” Surely if she did, she would take measures to find the girl. Yet she’d mentioned nothing to Maddy, who was feeling ashamed that she hadn’t noticed Cath’s absence.
“Aye. She said there was nothing to be done, that serving girls sometimes run off with a man, or go home because they don’t care for hard work.”
“Cath did not seem like the kind of girl to shirk her responsibilities. What do you think?”
The woman shrugged. “Can’t say I know, but she were a reliable one. And I don’t think she had any admirers, except the one we already know about.” She tucked her chin and cocked a brow. “Somebody would have told me if she’d been sneaking off with a man.”
Musgrave. Maddy didn’t say it out loud, but she knew it instinctively. Somehow, he was responsible for Cath’s disappearance. Given what he had threatened her with, she feared he may have harmed Cath after she’d refused his attentions. “Did she ever say anything else to you about Master Vine? Did he…harass her any further after we intervened?”
“Nay, she never said naught else about it.”
Maddy made up her mind to tell Ryder at their meeting tonight. She would confess everything she knew about Musgrave and beg his help in finding out what had happened to Cath. Meanwhile, she must make some response to Mistress Derby. “I’m glad you told me. I will think on what might be done.” The cook nodded and Maddy went on to her chamber.
Near sunset, after making sure Lady Dacre did not require her help, she set off walking toward the wall.
Maddy had not explored in this direction since she’d been at the priory, but everybody hereabout knew of the Roman wall. It could not be far if Ryder had asked her to meet him there. Apparently, he intended to keep to the wall for his ride over from Brampton. It ran east and west for miles. The local citizenry—including those who had built the priory, according to Dacre—helped themselves to the stones to construct their homes and outbuildings, and always had done.
After she’d walked for about ten minutes, Maddy glimpsed the wall stretching horizontally before her, gray and wraithlike. It blended into the gloaming and seemed like God had put it there instead of the Romans. The remnants of a Roman fortification were visible as she approached. Since the wind had come up and it was mizzling a bit, she decided to shelter there while she waited.
Maddy was musing on the purpose of this meeting when she heard muted hoof beats on the water-soaked ground. Stepping out to greet horse and rider, she was welcomed by a nicker from Raven, Ryder’s mount.
Ryder swiftly dismounted. “Next time be certain who you are greeting before you show yourself,” he said rather sternly.
“Had I not been expecting you, I would have.” He grasped her elbow, leading her back inside. Three walls were intact and helped block the wind. Maddy lowered the hood on her mantle and waited for him to speak.
His expression was grim. “I wished you to have this information at once. I have learned Thomas Vine’s true identity.”
Her heart jumped. “Oh?” she said, attempting to gather her wits. Maddy had remained undecided about exactly how much to confess when the time was right. If Ryder already knew Musgrave’s identity, conceivably he knew all.
He did not notice her unease but went on speaking. “His name is John Musgrave. He’s a notorious border reiver, a brutal criminal and most likely a killer. I am considering removing you from Lanercost for your safety.”
And return me to Carlisle Castle? “Oh, pray do not! This is my only chance to save myself.” And to redeem herself. What would happen to her if Ryder carried out this plan? If his father had any say in the matter, which he most assuredly would, she would soon be sleeping on straw again. “Nicholas, I beg you!” Before thinking the better of it, Maddy grabbed hold of his doublet and yanked.
Ryder said nothing, only kept a probing gaze on her. How had she dared to lay her hands on him? Reaching out, he captured them with his own, his sage green eyes searching her face. “Do you still fear I could not protect you? I would keep you from harm, Maddy. You have become very important to me.”
And then he bent his head and kissed her. A gentle, exploring kiss. With a soft moan, she leaned into him. His arms came around her, gathering her close, kissing her more urgently. The tantalizing pressure of his tongue seeking hers made Maddy forget everything but the here and now. Nicholas smelled as clean and fresh as morning dew. The soft rustle of Raven’s grazing, the wind soughing, the rain drip-dropping off the wall, yes, she was aware of all those sounds. But nothing mattered except the warmth of his embrace and the sensual press of his lips. A fever possessed her, and when he stepped away, she wanted to lure him back. He tasted like twilight: deep, sensual, and a little mysterious.
They laughed, both of them breathless. He continued to hold her arms. “I would very much like to kiss you the night through, but I must tell you the rest.”
She nodded. “Go ahead.” Maddy hoped she could comprehend it; her senses were still attuned to other things.
All seriousness now, he said, “Musgrave is an outlaw, drafted into service by Cecil as a double agent. In the past year, he was hauled before the Council of the North because of his raiding. He got off with a warning, since they had no proof, as is often the case with these men. Their steel helms cover their faces, and of course they ride mainly at night.”
Maddy pulled away from Nicholas. “Which is why he could not be present when Sussex came to Lanercost. He would have recognized Musgrave and exposed him.”
“Precisely.”
“What is his purpose there?”
“He’s been sent to gauge the loyalty of the Protestant Dacres.”
“But that is what I am doing. Why must there be two of us?” How she wished Musgrave might be removed.
“It seems Lady Jane Dacre and her son may have differing loyalties. They want Musgrave primarily to keep an eye, jaded as it is, on Dacre.”
“Has my mission changed?”
Nicholas shook his head. “Nay. ’Tis unclear to me why Cecil needs two spies at Lanercost, but your duty will remain unchanged. Watch and observe Lady Dacre and take note of questionable behavior on the part of anybody else.”
Questionable behavior. Did her suspicions of Musgrave in Cath’s disappearance count? When Maddy thought about Cath, she was convinced his ruthlessness knew no bounds. “I found out today that the young serving girl who spurned him is missing. I’m frightened for her, Nicholas, and quite certain it’s Musgrave’s doing.” She explained what little she knew. “Can you do anything to help find her?”
“I’ll put some men on it, have them be on the lookout for her—or her body.” Nicholas gripped her shoulders. “In the meantime, you must stay away from him as much as possible.”
Trembling, she broke away from Nicholas. Now was the time to tell him, yet still she hesitated. What would he think of her? But if there was to be trust between them, there must first be truth. It was up to Maddy to convey it. She drew in a deep breath and said, “Musgrave was no stranger to me.”
A questioning brow arched. “I do not understand.”
It would be easier said if she were not facing him straight on, so she began to pace. “I was introduced to him in Carlisle, during a Midsummer celebration. It will seem difficult to believe, but back then he cut a dashing figure.” She paused and glanced at Nicholas, whose face had frozen. “He was tall, handsome, and seduced me with flattery. I was an innocent girl of nineteen years, completely taken in by it.”
“He seduced you? Did he—?”
“Bed me?” Maddy looked at him over her shoulder, wondering if her expression reflected the shame and regret she felt. “Aye.”
“God’s wounds, Madeleine! It is beyond belief that you lay with that man.” Even when he’d questioned her, she did not recall him raising his voice. Not like this.
Maddy turned around to face him. “I cannot apologize for what happened so long ago now, or for the foolish, naive girl who welcomed his attentions. At the time, I did not know what he was. But I am sorry indeed for lying to you about the fact that I knew Musgrave. Knew he was not Thomas Vine from London.”
“Why did you keep it from me?” His icy glare sent a jolt of alarm through her.
“The first night I was undecided about what to do. Then, as I grew to…to like you, I was ashamed.” She searched his face for a sign of forgiveness, of understanding. But he only looked angry. Betrayed.
Now he grasped her arms and shook her once, fiercely. “How can I trust you after this revelation?”
“I made a poor choice, Nicholas,” she said. “I was young and inexperienced. I am telling you the truth now so that there may be complete honesty between us.”
He snorted. “What else are you keeping back, Madeleine?”
“Nothing! I swear it.”
“How can I be certain you are not weighing information yourself, deciding what I should and should not be told? Perhaps you are feeding me only the bits that will reflect well on you. Or even worse, inventing information you imagine I might find useful.”
Maddy’s breath seemed trapped in her chest. “Why would I do such a thing?”
“Mayhap you have your own agenda. One you are keeping secret from me.”
Something inside her fell away, and she felt the ache of its loss through her body. “That is a harsh judgment, sir. If you believe that of me, then we are lost. Send me back to my cell.”
“In truth, I no longer know what to believe.”
Maddy recalled Musgrave’s revelations at last night’s supper. Ryder probably already knew, but after his accusations, she wished to make certain she did not leave anything out. “Musgrave informed us at the evening meal last night that Mary Stewart was coming north to Carlisle, to visit her son. He did not say when.”
His tone of voice reflected his irritation with her. “Yes, I am aware of that. The queen had to approve the visit.” He hesitated briefly before saying, “You need not come on market day. It is only a few days hence, and unlikely you will have more to tell me by then. In the meanwhile, I will think on what to do with you.” He stepped outside into the wind and mist, and Maddy followed.
He gave her no opening to relate the odd conversation that had taken place among the Dacres and Musgrave during dinner, but so be it. Ryder mounted his horse and said nothing more, and Maddy began to make her way toward the priory. She felt a shriveling inside, all hope drifting away like a patch of mist. From elation to despair in only a few minutes. Aware he was watching, she squared her shoulders and moved swiftly, most desirous of getting beyond his line of sight.