Chapter 26
“Excuse me?” Angelet must have misheard. Or the girl suddenly spoke in Welsh. Or Angelet was having another seizure. “Did you say murder?”
“I wasn’t here when it happened,” Robin hedged, “but I heard the story. Many times. Sir Rafe was sparring with Sir Alric on the practice field, but he had more in mind than…are you well?”
“No!” Angelet felt genuinely sick. Something must be wrong with her, because Robin’s words made no sense and yet she said them. Why would she lie?
Robin put a surprisingly strong arm around Angelet’s waist. “Come with me. You need to sit down. Your face is white.”
As the two walked over to a nearby bench, which was just a plank of wood set over two stumps, Angelet whispered, “I need to speak with Rafe.”
“You mean Lady Cecily,” Robin said. “Because you’re ill.”
No. She meant Rafe, but it was no good telling Robin that. “Both of them, please. Could you fetch them? I’ll wait here.”
“Don’t collapse,” Robin warned. “I’ll get in trouble if you collapse.”
“Just hurry. And find Sir Rafe first, if you please.”
Robin picked up her skirts and ran toward the practice fields, moving as if she did that sort of thing all the time. Angelet didn’t remember the last time she ran anywhere. Ladies did not run.
She waited, sitting in the sunny spot, undoubtedly looking much calmer than she felt. The word murder kept crackling in her mind, interrupting all other thoughts. She tried to explain Robin’s brief, startling statement to herself. It was obviously false. Rafe would never murder someone in cold blood. He was a knight, and she saw him fight. She even saw him kill Dobson, but that was purely to defend her.
But then she remembered Goswin’s accusation of murder, and how Rafe had reacted to that, with a split second of horror before recovering. Granted, it turned out that Goswin exaggerated the situation in his anger, but the fact remained that he thought Rafe a murderer too. What did Robin and Goswin see in Rafe that Angelet missed? Was she so starved for affection that a little flirtation from Rafe was enough to blind her to his true nature?
No. She’d seen his true nature. It was impossible for him to be a murderer because she couldn’t fall in love with a murderer.
“Oh, no,” she whispered, putting her head in her hands. She loved him. Not just cared for him, or felt a passion for him, but loved him. How careless of her. How incredibly foolish.
“Angelet?”
She lifted her head.
Rafe stood in front of her, his face the picture of concern. “Robin just said you asked for me. What happened?”
“What happened?” she echoed. “What happened is that Robin mentioned something no one else here thought to bring up! She said you tried to murder Sir Alric.”
Rafe’s expression changed from concerned to chagrined. “Oh.”
“Oh,” she mimicked, taking refuge in ridicule. “Is this the awkward matter that kept you outside the walls at first? Is this the reason Cecily and Alric keep talking around your return here?”
“Yes.”
His simple admission hurt to hear. “So it’s true?”
“In short, yes, it is. Look, I never claimed I was a saint. In fact, I warned you that I was anything but.”
“I never expected you to be perfect. However, attempted murder is completely beyond anything you hinted at! And I refuse to believe the matter is simple.”
“Why?”
“Because if it were simple, and it was just a case of you hating Sir Alric enough to try to murder him, you wouldn’t be allowed back here. But you were—”
Rafe interjected, “Solely because de Vere himself has been seeking me for some special retribution of his own. Alric wants me here so I can’t avoid my fate.”
She hadn’t known that was what was keeping him here, but she should have suspected it wasn’t because of her. “I see,” she murmured. “Why did you try to kill him?”
“The usual reason,” Rafe said. “Money. Same reason I agreed to escort you to Basingwerke. I’m a very simple man, Angelet. And not a good one. So when someone presented me with what looked like a profitable opportunity, I took it.”
“Are you referring to the attempted murder or guarding me on the journey?”
He gave a short laugh. “The murder, but it applies to both. I’m out for myself, darling. Growing up with no wealth and no family connections meant that I always had to look out for myself.”
“You were fostered here,” Cecily interrupted. She’d just walked up, with Alric beside her. “You may not have had a noble name or lands to inherit, but you did have a family.”
“Perhaps I did,” Rafe conceded. “Until I betrayed that family when Theobald came to me with his plan.”
“Who’s Theobald?” Angelet asked.
“My uncle,” said Cecily. “A snake of a man. We’re well rid of him. But we’re doing this piecemeal. Rafe, tell her the whole story.”
“Please,” Angelet added.
He looked away. “Let Cecily and Alric tell it. No one wants to hear my version.”
“Everyone wants to hear your version,” Cecily said. “And you owe Angelet the truth, since you were the one who brought her here.”
“Do I have a choice?” Rafe asked.
“No.” That came from Alric, who didn’t look ready to compromise.
The whole group moved back into the manor house, since Cecily was worried about Angelet’s condition. In the quiet solar, Angelet was offered the best seat, and Rafe was left standing to give his account, with both Cecily and Alric in attendance, to ensure he told the truth.
Rafe began with his arrival at Rainald de Vere’s manor so many years ago. “I had no idea what to expect. I was just a boy, and all I knew was that this…lord decided I was to join these other boys for training. I met Alric, and Luc…as well as the lord’s daughter.” He glanced toward Cecily. “I had nothing to complain about. The training was hard, and the days were long. But I was fed, and had a place to sleep.”
“And you had friends,” Alric added.
Rafe gave a short nod.
“Those three were inseparable,” Cecily told Angelet. “They trained together, played together, ate together…everything. Together, they teased me horribly, too.” But she smiled a little, suggesting that her memories of those days were fond ones.
“Then the attack happened,” Rafe said. “And Lord Rainald de Vere died, or so we thought.”
All smiles in the room disappeared.
“We didn’t know it then—we were children—but the attack on the manor had been orchestrated by Theobald de Vere, who wanted the title and lands for himself. He forced his older brother to flee into exile, then pretended he had died so he could take over.” Rafe’s voice was quiet. “We all spent most of the next decade under his rule. It didn’t matter much to me. I kept on training, and then we all went off to fight when the new king called for soldiers. I fought with Alric and Luc for the next few years, battle after battle. It’s amazing we all survived.”
Alric said, “We did it because we stayed together. That was what the oath meant.”
“Ah, yes. The oath.” Rafe chuckled. He looked directly at Angelet. “I swore an oath, you know. With Alric and Luc. Just the two of them. The oath was simple enough. That we have each other’s back and be as brothers, not just in battle, but in life.”
He sounded so distant. Angelet wanted nothing more than to pull him close and embrace him, but of course she couldn’t. “What happened to change your heart?”
“We came home. Here, to Cleobury. The war was in a lull, and we’d finally got enough time to rest for a while. But Cleobury wasn’t a place of refuge for anyone, not with Theobald in charge. He wanted even more power. So he arranged to marry his niece Cecily off to some lord. Theobald knew Alric worshipped her, though, so he offered me a deal. If I arranged for an accident during training, and Alric died, then I would be rewarded for my loyalty. More money than I’d ever imagined I could have at once. With that fortune, I could go anywhere, start a life in any place I chose. And all I had to do was murder my childhood friend.”
“But you didn’t actually do it,” Angelet said.
“Not for lack of trying. We were sparring one day. Did I mention I’m a better fighter than Alric?”
“Sad but true,” Alric admitted.
“He can’t defend against me,” Rafe went on. “I saw opening after opening, and finally I took one. I struck him. Drew blood.”
Angelet put a hand to her mouth. “How did he survive?”
Rafe shrugged. “I stopped the fight and called his squire—after all, it was supposed to be an accident. But Alric took fever from the wound I gave him. I wished I hadn’t struck him,” Rafe said suddenly. “The instant I pierced the skin, I knew I’d made a mistake. No, not made a mistake. Committed a sin.”
“Sins can be forgiven,” Alric said. “And obviously, I did survive.”
“You stayed at Cleobury?” Angelet asked. “Even after…”
“At that point, Alric didn’t know I meant to kill. He has a better heart than I do. Everyone does.”
Just then, a servant hurried in. “Pardon! My lady Cecily, your father returns. Octavian de Levant rides with him. An advance rider has just come. The main party will be here well before dark.”
“Ah, how wonderful!” Cecily said, with a huge smile. Then she turned toward Rafe. “A little early, though. Your story isn’t done.”
“It doesn’t get better,” he said. “I did a host of despicable things after that. I even fought Alric again.”
“Your heart wasn’t in it that last time,” Alric said. “And you knew it.”
“The rest of the tale shall have to wait.” Cecily looked at Angelet apologetically. “Come with me and we’ll make ourselves presentable. I can’t wait for you to meet my father.”
“I’ll stay with Rafe until Lord Rainald arrives,” said Alric. “Just to make sure he doesn’t slip away.”
Angelet’s gaze caught Rafe’s, and she read the defeat in his face. Rafe looked as if slipping away was exactly what he had in mind.