Chapter 17
Jordan pretended to be deep in prayer, hoping his sister would leave. She didn’t, and he felt her eyes boring through the side of his head.
With a sigh, he turned to her. “Who’s Sir Harold?”
She stuck out her tongue in disgust at the mention of the name, then frowned at him. “What are you doing in the chapel? You’re supposed to stay put in Leo’s room until everything’s settled.”
“I only leave the room to come here and I’m careful that no one sees me,” he said, sick of her constant fretting over him.
He’d proven he could take care of himself in their new time, not that she’d ever know about it. He wanted her to back off. He must have hit just the right tone and angry face combination because she nodded meekly. He remembered all the times growing up that he’d snarled at her when she’d come into his room for something. Those were the kinds of things he’d thought about when he thought she was dead. He softened his face and motioned for her to lead the way out of the chapel.
“You’re probably right. Drayton would never come in here.”
He chuckled. “Marjorie said the same thing. That he’d turn to ash if he tried.”
“You and Marjorie best buddies now?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “You know no one’s supposed to know you’re back.”
“Marjorie’s not going to tell anyone, believe me.” He forced a laugh. “A couple months in medieval times and you’re as nosy as Mom about my love life.”
She came to a halt so fast he thought her slippers might have made a screeching noise on the stone floor. “Love life?” she gasped.
Well, he’d asked for that with his stupid slip. “Not love life. I just meant she was always asking me about the girls I knew.”
“Do you think of her as a girl?” Sophie asked, still incredulous.
“I am aware she’s a female human,” he said sarcastically, wishing she would drop it.
The fact of the matter was he hadn’t given much thought to how he felt about Marjorie. A quick investigation told him he felt compassion for her, being dragged around by Lyra. He still didn’t know why she’d gone to the woods that second time, since he hadn’t summoned Lyra. It bothered him as much as he was thankful for it. There wasn’t much chance he would have made it back to the castle without her. After compassion, he felt something like gratitude. She didn’t despise him for being a killer. She had tried to ease his mind of that burden more than once. And last of all, he actually liked her. She was clever and sweet. She was worked to the bone by the castle daughters, his own sister bossing her around. Yet, he never saw her complain. And she was surprisingly brave in the face of Lyra continuing to possess her. The more he thought about that, the angrier he got, but didn’t know how to confront the witch without summoning her, which meant another surefire possession.
“Okay, stop scowling. It looks like it hurts. Just remember Marjorie might be the one who got us into this mess in the first place.”
He stopped scowling, glad Sophie took his look for annoyance at her and not his rage against Lyra. “Marjorie has feelings,” he said. “Deep feelings. If she did ask for the curse it was because something awful must have happened.”
She stopped at the doors of the chapel. “Don’t fall for her,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders, another mom-like affectation she’d acquired.
“Sophie,” he warned.
He wasn’t about to reassure her he had none of those feelings for Marjorie. It wasn’t her business and he suddenly wasn’t sure he didn’t have those feelings for Marjorie. So what if he did?
When they got back to Leo’s room, she told him she had to help prepare for the newest guests. He looked about as pleased about Sir Harold’s visit as Fay had looked when Drayton’s arrival had been announced. Jordan realized his sister had never answered his question and asked again who Sir Harold was.
Once again, she made a face. “He’s not as bad as Drayton, but not much better. He was here last time and did something unspeakable to me.” She crossed her arms and shivered.
He tightened his fists. “What did he do?” And why hadn’t Leo beaten the stuffing out of him for it? Had it been so terrible she hadn’t felt she could tell Leo? “What was it?” he repeated, his new killing instincts ignited, making his blood pound in his temples.
She slumped. “After Anne died the last time, he asked me to marry him.”
“God, Soph, can you learn the meaning of words before you use them? I thought he actually did something unspeakable.” His adrenaline raced and made him feel sick. He thought he’d been getting better but images of the dead man—the man he’d killed—were there as plain as Sophie’s abashed face.
“Sir Walter actually considered it,” she said. “And now with Leo’s mother doing what she did … I’m scared he won’t give Leo his permission. And Leo won’t ask until everything’s settled with his mother, which won’t happen until Tristan gets back. Either way, there’s a chance Father, sorry, Sir Walter won’t believe Leo wasn’t part of it. Then I’ll lose him.”
“No, you won’t. You know the truth. Who cares what Sir Walter thinks?”
She groaned. “Don’t you get it yet? Permission is everything in this time. I have to do what I’m told.”
He rolled his eyes at that. She was still the goody two-shoes. “If it means losing Leo, you might have to break the rules for once. Just run away with him if it comes to it.”
“We can’t. We’d be outcasts. Shunned. The marriage wouldn’t be recognized and I’d be a fallen woman. If Father thinks Leo was involved or even just complicit with his mother, there might be action against him by the crown. He could lose his land or worse, get executed.”
“Unfortunately, everything your sister says is true,” Leo said.
Jordan sat down on the edge of the bed, head swirling. “This place sucks,” was all he could manage to say to her passionate outburst.
She nodded forcefully. “I know. But we’re stuck here so we have to play along.” She opened the door to leave, but turned back, eyes bright with fury. “So play along. Don’t give Drayton another chance to kill you.”
After she slammed out of the room, he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling beams until his eyes crossed.
*
The weather was gloomy so the ladies moved their sewing party to a corner of the great hall near the fire. Anne’s cough was back with force, but she insisted on helping them with the preparations. Despite all the arguments from Marjorie, Fay, and Sophie, she refused to stay in her room. Marjorie suspected Anne was more nervous than she was letting on about her former love coming to the castle. Marjorie wished she could erase those memories from Anne’s head, and her own as well. His visit couldn’t be good for her health and Marjorie made a point to ask Jordan if he had any different medicines when she took him his supper that evening. For the past two nights, she’d been intercepting the serving boy who was supposed to take the tray and leave it outside Sir Leo’s door. With threats and bribes, she’d secured his promise not to tell anyone what she did.
She’d only wanted a glimpse of him to make sure he was all right since he’d stopped going to the chapel. But that first night, he’d invited her to keep him company. Begged, really, saying he was going crazy being stuck in there alone. She certainly could understand that, and stood respectably in the doorway while he ate and chatted. Last night, he’d laughed at her and cajoled until she sat down across from him and ate the bits of his meal he offered. She’d asked again why he was stuck up there alone. She had faith that Sir Walter would take his claims seriously and she wanted badly for Lord Drayton to get his comeuppance sooner rather than later. Or never, as she was beginning to fear.
Jordan had sighed and pushed his plate away. “I want to tell you, Marjorie, but I can’t yet. I trust you, but I promised.”
“Then you must keep the promise and I shall stop being so inquisitive.”
Oh, she did like him more and more each day and almost pricked herself with the needle, she was so lost in thoughts of him. She glanced up to find Sophie and Catherine staring at her.
“What is it?” she asked, fearing they’d been speaking to her and she hadn’t heard. “Did I miss something?” She quickly gathered a few feasible excuses that weren’t related to Jordan in case they accused her of daydreaming.
“You were humming,” Catherine said.
“You never do that,” Sophie reiterated.
“It was lovely,” Anne said, giving the other two a shake of her head. “Don’t make her self-conscious.”
“Ah, was I? It must be …” she trailed off. What? She couldn’t say it was the lovely weather when they’d come inside to get away from the gusty winds and gray skies. “The warmth of the fire,” she finished lamely. Catherine and Anne only smiled and went back to their work but Sophie gave her a long, measuring look before returning to her stitching.
Sophie couldn’t know about her visits to Jordan, could she? No, Jordan would never tell Sir Leo and risk her reputation. He’d assured her more than once it was of the utmost importance to him. Sophie was just odd sometimes. She certainly wouldn’t wish her ill if she did know Marjorie was interested in Jordan. Which she didn’t know, couldn’t possibly. Marjorie was so flustered that when Batty burst through the doors and raced to their gathering spot, she jumped off the bench and dropped her needle. She got down on the floor to look for it and hide her discomfort while Batty babbled on with the news that had brought her there.
“They’ve arrived,” she said breathlessly. “They’re opening the gate right now.”
Marjorie snuck a look at Anne, who now seemed as flustered as she had felt a moment before. Her pale cheeks filled with bright spots of color and she stood.
“Goodness, why is everyone always early. Catherine, will you please clear away this mending? Sophie, make sure the cook is aware. Marjorie, come with me to check that the chambers are ready.”
It was a whirlwind of activity and then they all stood in their ranks while Sir Harold and his men drew up on their horses. Marjorie wanted to hate him for breaking Anne’s heart so thoroughly all those years ago, but she saw how bright and happy Anne looked as he greeted her, telling her she was lovelier than she’d ever been. Her icy heart thawed a little. But only a little. And only because he was infinitely better than wicked Lord Drayton.
She wanted to stay in the great hall and watch them interact with each other, but knew she wanted to see Jordan again more. As soon as everyone was settled and no one would miss her, she’d take him his tray. She liked thinking she was doing a service, keeping the poor, cooped up man company. But she knew deep in that icy heart of hers it was purely selfish.
Everyone entered the great hall, laughing as they found their seats. She was pleased to see Sir Harold seated next to Anne instead of Lord Drayton, but it still rankled that Drayton was on the other side of Sir Walter, laughing along with everyone else. Acting like he was already family.
“Goodness, Marjorie, you’ll burn a hole in something with that face.” Batty followed Marjorie’s line of sight and shook her head. “Why do you hate Lord Drayton so much? I think he’s a fine man.”
“You may not think so soon,” Marjorie said darkly, hoping it was true.
As if to make her simple wish a premonition, a page ran into the great hall shouting that Sir Tristan had returned. And he had prisoners. She and Batty shared an astounded look and found a seat out of the way to see what transpired.
“Everything must have gone well at the keep if he’s back,” Batty said, craning her neck eagerly. “And to have caught some of the scoundrels. I hope Sir Walter won’t go easy on them. They’re probably the same lot who attacked the castle. I hope Brom isn’t hurt.”
It was only a matter of moments before a battle weary, road dusty Sir Tristan hauled in two shackled men, shoving them to their knees in front of the high table. Marjorie leaned forward, as eager as Batty to see what happened. To her great disgust, Lord Drayton didn’t seem at all concerned, just as curious as the rest of them.
“These men attacked my land,” Sir Tristan said in a booming voice so all could hear. “They admit to being part of the recent raid on Grancourt and want to beg for mercy in return for information they have. I ask you to hear their confessions, Sir Walter.”
Marjorie was impressed he hadn’t so much as cast a glance at Lord Drayton. He’d given a quick nod to Fay when he first dragged the prisoners forward, then all his attention was directed at the two men at his feet.
“I cannot promise mercy,” Sir Walter said. “But I will hear what you have to say and then decide.” He motioned for them to speak. It took a kick in the back from Sir Tristan to get the first one to start his pleas.
“My lord,” he said, bound hands clasped in front of him as best he could. “I have been your loyal servant for many years. Tending your crops—”
Sir Walter leaned forward and looked him over carefully. “Indeed, I recognize you. Goodman Fry? But why this perfidy?”
Fry sobbed. “Hard times, my lord. My own crops failed and my children were hungry. I was offered such sums of gold to betray you that I fear I couldn’t resist.” He looked up and pointed with his tied hands. “That man, Lord Drayton, has been paying me for two years now, along with many others, in a devious attempt to eventually take Dernier and Grancourt as his own.” He leaned over and put his face to the floor, beseeching Sir Walter to spare his life.
The second man crawled forward, nodding. “It’s all true, Sir Walter, my lord. I, too, was tricked into taking money from that man. I live in the village and have never had a bad thought against you. But the money was too great to resist. My daughter wished to marry and I didn’t have anything to give her …” he trailed off, crying too hard to speak another word.
Batty turned to Marjorie, chin almost to her chest in disbelief. “If this is true, you were right all along to despise Lord Drayton. I swear, Marjorie, you need to bottle that sense of yours.”
“You’re just far too trusting,” Marjorie said, unable to look away from the high table. To her dismay, it looked like Sir Walter didn’t believe them. And the scoundrel himself made no move to defend himself, only laughed.
“What a story they’ve devised,” he said, shaking his head and returning his attention to his plate as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“What proof do you have of their wild claims, Tristan?” Sir Walter asked. “You risk besmirching a nobleman’s good name at the word of these … traitors?”
Tristan shifted uncomfortably. “They’ve admitted to the location of their base. A large, underground hiding place nearby. It was how they were so easily able to disappear.”
Sir Walter looked to Lord Drayton, who laughed again. “Your new son-in-law must be gullible to believe such a story. An underground base? It’s the stuff of a jester’s tale to be sure.”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Tristan said. “It couldn’t have been built without great amounts of men and coin. Nothing near what these simple folk could come up with on their own.”
“But why am I their benefactor?” Lord Drayton continued. “What proof is there of that? Is it merely because I’m a guest here now and they found it convenient?” He spared a disinterested look at the two shivering men and Marjorie had had enough.
“He’s going to get away with it,” she said.
“He may truly be innocent,” Batty said. “Why would he have any interests up here? His own land isn’t close. Do you think he traveled up here enough to orchestrate what they’re accusing without us knowing of it? With his massive entourage, his visits would have been shouted far and wide. Our closest neighbor is a world class gossip after all. Lady Alise would have sent word if she’d so much as gotten a whiff of him.”
That was all true enough, but she believed Jordan. She’d seen the state he was in when he’d escaped. She still didn’t understand why he didn’t come forward. He had to come forward, and fast, before the two prisoners were put to death for their supposed slander. She pushed her way from the table and hurried toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Batty called over the hubbub that had erupted in the great hall. No one believed the men’s story. “You’re going to miss everything.”
She wasn’t going to miss anything if she hurried. She pounded on Sir Leo’s door and opened it without waiting to be given permission. Jordan looked up in surprise, rising from his chair.
“Marjorie, what’s wrong? Did you run all the way up here?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “You must come at once. Sir Tristan brought prisoners to confess to being paid by Lord Drayton.”
“That’s good, right?” he asked. His eyes showed how troubled he was. He wanted to speak up, but something was stopping him. Something other than the fear he wouldn’t be believed.
“Sir Walter is on the verge of not believing them. They’ll be killed and Lord Drayton will still be walking free. Any day, he’s going to ask for Anne’s hand. Who knows what treachery he has planned after that?” His face paled and she had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what treachery was planned. “You know, don’t you? You overheard him. That’s why he took you in the first place.”
Jordan nodded and stood. “The reason I didn’t want to come forward, I mean the reason I was talked out of coming forward until Tristan returned is because the place I was taken—”
“It was underground, was it not? The men said so as well, but it’s as you already feared. Lord Drayton says there’s no proof he had any part of it. Don’t you see, Jordan? You’re the proof.” She inspected him. “It’s been five days now, maybe six. Your face still looks horrid. And no one’s seen you except for Sir Leo, Sophie and me, right? We must say you’ve just escaped.” She had never once lied to Sir Walter before, but it was only a half-lie and it was for the greater good. “Jordan, you’ve been telling the truth about Drayton all along, haven’t you?”
He looked hurt and slightly offended but there was no time to ease his ego. She lost all sense of herself in her fears for Anne and the castle and took his arm, shaking it.
“Yes,” he said. He tipped his head to the side, looking at her searchingly. He seemed to find what he was looking for because he sighed and continued, “But their headquarters, or whatever you want to call it, is on Sir Leo’s land.”
She gasped and staggered back. Not Sophie, too. How could both of them fall into the hands of such skilled liars and betrayers. She shook off those thoughts. Sir Leo didn’t have any part of it, she was certain. The prisoner had said they’d been in Drayton’s employ for two years and Sir Leo had only just returned home from Italy. He’d been gone for ages, traveling the world. Lady Alise bragged about it on her rare visits to the castle. She couldn’t remember the last time the woman had visited. She’d been too busy betraying her neighbor, it seemed. Or she had a modicum of shame and couldn’t face Sir Walter. But Marjorie was certain her instincts that Sir Leo was a good man were true. But would Sir Walter have those same instincts?
“Sophie will be crushed if Sir Walter denies him,” she said. She didn’t want to say it aloud, but even if Sir Walter believed Leo had nothing to do with it, how could he allow the man into the family? Would Sir Leo want to be part of the family when justice was served to his mother? “I see why you’ve been struggling,” she said, taking his hand. “But we have to think of Anne now. That monster cannot be allowed to marry her.”
Jordan nodded. “Let’s go. I’ll tell Sir Walter everything.”
Marjorie sagged with relief. She knew all along she could count on him.