* * *
Within the hour, Father Francis arrived. He crossed himself when he saw Alan de Courcy and murmured a cry of dismay.
‘I feared the worst when you sent for me, my lady.’ He bowed and withdrew a small vial of chrism. ‘I thought I might have to administer Last Rites. But now I see I was too late. I will pray for the soul of Lord Pevensham.’
Rosamund rose from her husband’s side, and tears streamed down her face. ‘Father, I do not know what to do. I heard a noise and came to see what had happened. When I arrived, I saw this.’ She revealed Alan’s bruised throat. ‘My husband was murdered.’
Father Francis’s glance flickered towards Warrick, and he moved forward. The priest wore a rosary around one wrist, and Warrick knelt down before him. He took the cross and kissed it. ‘I swear by the Blood of Christ that I had nothing to do with Alan de Courcy’s death. I came when my lady summoned me, and we found him like this.’ He explained their suspicions about an intruder and finished with, ‘She is not safe here.’
The priest was silent for a time. ‘I agree with you. Though I do not wish to imagine why this happened, Lord Pevensham gave orders that her unborn child must be protected at all costs. He told me he wanted you to take Lady Pevensham away for her protection.’
Warrick stilled, and Rosamund lifted her gaze to his. ‘I agree. If Rosamund stays here, the intruder will find a way to get to her. And I cannot stand aside and let that happen.’
The priest paused for a moment and thought. ‘It was Lord Pevensham’s wish that his wife should marry you upon his death, for that very purpose of protection. He spoke with me about it already.’
Rosamund’s expression was stricken, as if she could not believe what was happening. ‘Do you honestly expect me to marry when my husband was alive, just an hour ago?’
The priest hesitated. ‘Were this an ordinary situation, I would say no. We would want to say a Mass for your husband’s soul and honour his life. But Lord Pevensham was quite clear that he did not want you to remain here when Owen takes possession of this estate. He insisted that you marry Warrick de Laurent as soon as possible. That is, if you give your consent.’
Warrick saw the knotted emotions on her face. She closed her eyes as if trying to shut out the world and all that had happened. ‘And do you agree with this, Father?’
The priest’s face was grim. ‘If Lord Pevensham’s brother was involved in this murder, I believe you should obey your husband’s command and marry swiftly.’
‘Not like this,’ she whispered. And on that point, Warrick agreed. No woman should be expected to remarry with her former husband’s body still in the room. He would take her away from here first. Arrangements needed to be made, and there were only two men he trusted within the walls of this estate.
‘Stay here with Father Francis,’ Warrick told Rosamund. ‘Let no one enter until I return.’ To the priest, he added, ‘You may administer the final rites for Lord Pevensham and pray for his soul, while I summon my men and make arrangements for our departure.’ He studied Rosamund and added, ‘I will ensure that they pack up your belongings. And when I return, we will leave this place.’
* * *
Rosamund felt like an autumn leaf, torn from its branch and battered by the winds in every direction. She was numb to Alan’s death, and the longer she sat beside his body, the guiltier she felt.
The priest prayed in Latin, his voice soothing her wounded spirits. She let the tears fall freely, for she had never wanted it to end like this. Alan’s sickness had prepared her for the possibility of his death but not his murder.
You tried to make our marriage a good one,she thought inwardly.I am sorry that I could not be the wife you needed.
Her sadness held regret, more than grief. She understood now that earlier, Alan had been angry with himself and jealous of Warrick. And once he believed he would live again, he could not forgive either of them for what had happened, or himself for what he had brought about. Her emotions were battered by the storm of the past few days, and worst of all was the guilt assailing her conscience. It almost felt as if she had no right to reach for her own happiness—not now.
The candles burned lower, and at last Warrick returned, accompanied by Godfrey and Bennett. He pulled Rosamund aside and murmured, ‘Fitzwarren was caught trying to flee the castle. He confessed to the murder, and our men killed him.’
She could hardly grasp any of it, but she didn’t delude herself into believing she was safe now. Fitzwarren had been hired by Owen, and her brother-in-law was the greater danger. One murderer was dead, but another still lived.
Father Francis stood up from Alan’s body and approached them. ‘I will remain in prayer for Lord Pevensham throughout the night, and you must take Lady Pevensham with you. He was most insistent that she be guarded and kept from Owen de Courcy until her child is born.’
Rosamund said nothing, for she understood that the priest was only following her husband’s orders. Alan had known of the danger and had prepared them for this. She was grateful for his forethought, and she spoke a silent prayer of thanks in her heart.
‘I will take her to her father’s house,’ Warrick said. ‘She will be safe there.’
She did not want to seek sanctuary with her father, not after all that had happened. Even after these past few years, she had not forgiven him for his interference.
‘Not there,’ she said quietly, raising her eyes to Warrick’s.
But he met her gaze and admitted, ‘It’s closer than Ireland. And I have no doubt your father will keep you safe. Especially if you are carrying an heir.’
His words were meant for the benefit of the priest, but she could not suppress the shudder that rolled over her. There was no denying that there needed to be a child, but in her heart, she did not believe she was pregnant. Father Francis trusted in Alan’s confession, however, and he would do everything possible to protect her. Despite the lies, she needed that.
She took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I suppose I must do whatever is necessary to protect Alan’s heir.’ With a rueful look, she added, ‘Since I hold little faith in my own soldiers, it seems I have no choice but to leave.’
‘Only for a short while,’ Warrick reassured her. ‘We will return to Pevensham, in time.’
