“Are you running away?”
She looked at him sharply; it was as if he was thinking aloud, blurting out questions that were better left unasked. After a moment of staring him down with her piercing bronze eyes, she turned back to the fire.
“That is none of your affair.”
It wasn’t; he knew that. Awkwardly, he turned back for the door. He was almost through the opening when her soft voice stopped him.
“If any knights come to the door inquiring for me, you will tell them that you have not seen me. Is that clear?”
“Knights?” he exclaimed fearfully. “Are they after you?”
She shook her head at him as if he was an imbecile. “They will not kill you or burn the place down around your ears,” she said. “You will simply tell them that you have not seen me.”
The monk did not look entirely clear or convinced in his actions, but he nodded anyway. Shutting the door softly behind him, he left the lady to her bread and cheese.
The cough was gaining. By the time she finished her food, a slight fever had started, though she did not notice. Laying her head down on the rough, worn table cluttered with old bowls, an iron fork, and other implements, Alixandrea drifted off into a fitful, dismal sleep.
CHAPTER TEN
“Icannot imaginethat she willingly left,” Gaston said. “Henry’s agents are well aware of our arrival and they are also well aware of your custom of staying with your aunt when you visit London. It is quite possible they staked out Rosehill and abducted your wife.”
“How would they have even known I was married?”
“You said yourself that Terrington’s loyalties have shifted. It is quite possible that all of Henry’s allies know of your marriage to her by now, long enough for plots to be in the works, at any rate.”
A night and day of searching for Alixandrea had left them no further along than they had been the moment they had realized she was missing.
Matthew was positively distraught; it had been Luke who had sent word to Gaston to return to Rosehill at once, and upon his return, he found a man he’d known for twenty years to be in a state he’d never before seen. Matthew might have been the more congenial of the two, the more benevolent, and, Gaston was sure, the more deadly, and based upon that experience, he’d never known the man to be anything other than perfectly controlled. This disheveled man before him now was a stranger. Matthew’s countenance had the usually-composed Gaston unsteady, more in sympathy for his friend than for his display of weakness. It distressed him to realize that emotions could do such a thing to a man, even one as strong as Matthew.
“But that would not make any sense,” Matthew argued weakly. “Her manservant was supposed to kill me. For allHenry’s people know, I am dead. Why would they stake out Rosehill and abduct my wife to use against me if they are presuming I am dead?”
Gaston’s smoky eyes were hard. “You sent her manservant home with a message. Did you not think that message has been conveyed?”
Matthew shook his head sharply. “That was a week or so ago. There hasn’t been enough time for Lord Ryesdale to spread that word that the assassination attempt was thwarted.”
“So you think.”
Gaston did not agree with him; that was clear, on many levels. Matthew did not have the stomach to argue with the man at the moment. His agitation grew.
“Have it your way; they staked it out and abducted her,” he growled. “We have searched the countryside for her but the rain has conveniently washed away any trail we might have followed. I would hazard to say that they have not killed her outright and in that I take comfort. Knowing how they think, I am sure that they would rather use her against me. A dead wife will gain them nothing.”
It was the same thought every man in the room had. Gaston’s gaze moved between Matthew and Luke, sensing their genuine distress. John was the same, only more naked in his display of sorrow. Strangely, Mark was the only Wellesbourne brother that did not seem concerned as the rest of them did. Sitting next to Matthew, he seemed, in fact, rather detached from the whole thing. It was odd behavior from the usually-loyal Mark.
And with that realization, Gaston began to suspect Mark knew more than he was telling. Though he could hardly believe it, Mark’s body language said otherwise.
But he would not question him in front of Matthew. The man hadn’t eaten since yesterday; he was edgy and irritable, his face pale and unshaven. Any disruption might send him over theedge, especially one involving Mark. He would defend Mark to the death against all accusations and then turn around and kill him all in the same breath. Now was not the time. But the time would come.
“If she has been abducted, then she is well away from this place,” Gaston finally said. “Any further searching would be in vain. It would be my suggestion that we contact the Bishop of Ely.”
Luke looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind. “John Morton?” he repeated, incredulous. “Why would you contact a man who virtually licks the soles of Henry’s feet?”
“Because he would know,” Matthew answered before Gaston could reply. He looked pointedly at his brother, his blue eyes somehow dimmer, void of the joy that he had so openly displayed over the past few days. “John Morton is a man of the Church. Though he has chosen his loyalties, he still must act within the guidelines of the Church and, hopefully, provide us with honest answers. I would trust him over any other of Henry’s dogs.”
“Exactly,” Gaston finished. “I will ride for Ely immediately. It should take me a few days to reach him, but I will find out what I can.”
Matthew shook his head. “You shall not go, my friend. We have enough brewing here to keep you more importantly occupied. She is my wife. I shall go.”
Gaston would not stop him. Matthew would be useless to him in his current state; it was better that he take care of his personal matters and steady himself. Without another word, Matthew quit the room, presumably to prepare himself for the long journey to Ely. Gaston shot Arik, his second in command, a long look, suggesting that Arik accompany Matthew. The big North man silently slipped from the room in pursuit of TheWhite Lord. Mark was the next one to quit the room in silence. Gaston walked after him.
