Shattered Vows(84)

‘Yes, sir.’

The youth saluted and moved towards Rosamund. He was eyeing her with definite interest. Oliver’s stomach tightened. Her honey-brown hair had been whipped into tangles by the breeze, a breeze that had pinked her cheeks and tugged open her cloak.

‘Oliver?’ Huge blue eyes watched him. ‘I’m to follow you?’

‘Yes, you follow-’ He broke off. The squire was only a lad, but the way he was studying the curves revealed by Rosamund’s damp, clinging gown... Oliver felt a muscle flicker in his jaw. ‘No.’ He reached down his hand. ‘You ride with me.’





Chapter Nine


The troop rattled into a bailey crammed with soldiers and Oliver cut through them, drawing rein by the steps at the entrance to the keep. Lady Adeliza – clad in black from head to toe – was standing at the top of the first flight of steps, talking to Sir Gerard. Sir Gerard’s face was pinched. Although he was opening and shutting his mouth, Rosamund suspected he wasn’t actually saying anything.

Rosamund’s jaw dropped as she assimilated the changes in Lady Adeliza. Lord Geoffrey’s mother was wringing veined hands at her breast, her eyes were wild, and her black veil flapped untidily about her. She looked like an elderly rook whose rookery was being threatened by the woodcutter’s axe.

A squire stood at Sir Gerard’s elbow, plucking his sleeve. The squire was gabbling like a madman, he seemed to have forgotten his polished French phrases and was expressing his agitation in his native tongue. Never had Rosamund seen a knight look more harassed – Sir Gerard’s grizzled head moved from side to side as he listened first to Lady Adeliza...then his squire...then Lady Adeliza again. When another man emerged from the seething yard and came to join them, Sir Gerard put his hand to his greying head and she heard him say, ‘Must think. Strategy, that’s what we need. Must think. Need a minute to think.’

Sir Brian reined in, jumped from his mount, and executed a courtly bow.

‘Merciful Heavens, what now?’ Lady Adeliza said. Her veil snapped in the breeze.

‘I’ve found your nephew, my lady,’ Sir Brian said.

Behind her, Rosamund felt Oliver slide from the saddle and her fingers tightened on the pommel. Her pulse thudded, the ground seemed further away than it had done a moment ago.

‘My lady.’ Oliver bowed. ‘How fares my cousin?’

‘He lives, but no thanks to you, you traitor.’

Oliver’s shoulders stiffened and his face went curiously blank.

Sir Brian made a swift negative gesture. ‘My lady, that is not proven.’

‘Not proven? My poor son has barely dubbed him and he’s consorting with rebels in the woods!’

‘No!’ Rosamund burst out before she could stop herself. Several heads turned curiously in her direction and she moderated her tone. ‘It wasn’t like that. My lady, he was ambushed and taken prisoner.’

‘Who dares interrupt?’ Lady Adeliza said, impaling Rosamund with a well-tried glare.

Rosamund subsided, face hot. She wanted to hide, but that was impossible – she was stranded high and dry on the back of the roan, afraid to move, afraid to breathe...

Lady Adeliza turned back to Oliver. ‘De Warenne, you’re a disgrace to your name.’

‘My lady, I swear on my honour, I haven’t betrayed our house.’

Lady Adeliza made a sound that was suspiciously like a snort. ‘It’s strange how your arrival in the North coincided with the first sighting of these rebels. Two weeks you’ve been here, and my lord of Hewitt tells me that his men first heard Angevins were in the area two weeks ago.’ She lifted an enquiring eyebrow. ‘Coincidence?’

‘I knew nothing of them till last eve,’ Oliver said, firmly.

Lady Adeliza’s eyes glittered. ‘The attack on Geoffrey this morning must have been carefully calculated. It was almost as though they had first-hand knowledge of Ingerthorpe – as if someone had gone over to them with information.’

‘My lady, I swore an oath to your son and I mean to honour it,’ Oliver said, stiffly.

‘Were you hurt in this...ambush?’

Oliver grimaced and fingered the back of his head. ‘A little.’

‘Hmm.’ Lady Adeliza looked thoughtful. ‘Did you talk?’

Oliver drew himself to his full height. ‘My lady? I think I misunderstand you.’

‘I think not, de Warenne,’ replied his aunt. ‘Well? Did you?’

Oliver’s set expression had Rosamund leaping to his defence. ‘He didn’t betray you, he would never betray you. Didn’t the rebels bring a ransom demand? Didn’t they send you his spurs as a sign that they had captured him?’