“De Burgh has decided that the lady will be much safer someplace incognito,” he said in a low voice. “Our first instinct was to take her to one of de Burgh’s holdings, such as White or Grosmont Castle. But those who know we have her will look to the castles first.”
“The castles will provide protection, my lord,” Rhys said quietly. “John can lay siege to either for as long as he wishes and she will remain protected.”
“True,” de Lohr conceded. “But if John lays siege for any length of time, we will never be able to safety remove her to rendezvous with Prince Conrad.”
“Conrad?”
De Lohr nodded. “Conrad Ebhardt von Brunswick, Prince of Alsace and the next king of England,” he said as if he wasn’t particularly excited about it, simply resigned. “His father is Frederick II, King of Naples & Sicily, Duke of Swabia, and brother to Otto IV of Brunswick, the Holy Roman Emperor.”
So now the prince had a name. Rhys somehow felt as if the seriousness of his mission had just multiplied tenfold. So much was depending on his ability to keep the lady alive, which he’d done admirably so far. But it was as if now, with the revelation of a name, he felt the weight of the world riding on his considerable shoulders. The situation now had a name, a history, a future. Much was depending on his talents as a knight.
He sighed heavily; he couldn’t help it. “So you think it wise to keep the lady hidden from the prince rather than trust her to the protection of a castle?”
De Lohr’s sky-blue eyes glittered with cold calculation. “I believe that we must keep her someplace that John will never look. You will therefore take her to you mother’s home in Wales and keep her there for three weeks’ time.”
Rhys did something out of character at that moment; he lifted his dark eyebrows in genuine surprise. “But… my lord, my mother lives at a fortified manor. In truth, it is little more than a farm. If the king discovers the lady and lays siege to the house, there is very little by way of defense. They will easily breach the place.”
“Understood,” de Lohr said patiently. “But, as I explained, we believe at this point that it will be a safer place for her. John’s spies are spreading out all over England. To find her in a small town in Wales is more than likely the last place they will look.”
Elizabeau, silent through the exchange, spoke up. “His grandfather is Steward of Bronllys Castle. Perhaps I should go there. At least there will be walls for protection. I cannot say that I am entirely comfortable leaving my protection to chickens and farm implements.”
Christopher looked at her. “I understand your concern, but you must believe me when I say that keeping you someplace they will never look is our best hope. Even now, we have sent out several decoys to the north, hoping John’s assassins will pursue. I believe that the men at Courtenay’s manor had no knowledge of your tracks once you left the area. Moreover, whatever evidence there was has washed away.” He looked back to Rhys. “After three weeks’ time, you will take the lady to Ogmore Castle where she will rendezvous with the prince. They will be married there and more than likely sent back to the prince’s homeland for safety’s sake. We must be fully prepared to seize the throne before the lady and her husband can return to assume their destiny.”
So that was the brilliant plan; marriage, escaping the country, and then returning on the heels of a civil war. Apprehensive, Elizabeau sat back in her chair and lowered her gaze; last night, she had been belligerent and loud. But this morning, her attitude had changed a great deal. These men were trying very hard to keep her alive until she could marry her prince. She was coming to respect what they were attempting to accomplish and arguing with them had only made her feel ungrateful and foolish. So in a reversal of behavior, she decided to keep her mouth shut. Perhaps they did know more than she did when it came to outsmarting her Uncle John.
Christopher watched her lovely face for a moment, surprised she had not argued with him. In fact, she had given in easily. His brother ordered a meal while Christopher relaxed in his chair, feeling his fatigue for the first time in days. He continued to eye the lady now and again, waiting for her to contest his judgment. But still, she sat silent. He scratched his head and turned to his brother.
“I think I will return home for a few days,” he said to him. “I haven’t seen Dustin in weeks and she’ll have my head if I don’t show my face for a short while.”
“Do you live close by, my lord?”
The polite question came from Elizabeau. She was focused on the earl and he answered. “My keep is outside of Hereford,” he replied. “A few days ride from here.”