Then Lawrence vanished from view as Evangeline heard the sickening sound of his tumble down the stairs. The lantern fell from his hand and she heard it shatter after the light was extinguished. He cried out when the sound of his fall halted, then moaned once.
All became still and silent, too silent for Lawrence to be hale.
Rufus did not move. Evangeline could discern his silhouette at the top of the stairs, as if he stared after his father. Why did he not go to the older man’s aid?
Because he did not wish to help him. The answer was clear.
Evangeline closed the door to her chamber, leaning back against it, wondering what to do. Her heart was racing with horror at what she had witnessed. Could she aid Lawrence or was it too late?
She listened but there was no sound from the corridor beyond her door. She even dared to open the portal slightly again, but found only darkness and silence. Had no one noticed Lawrence’s fall? Where had Rufus gone?
Just then, a cry of alarm sounded from the hall below. “My lord Lawrence!” a woman said in dismay and shouted for someone to fetch a healer. A hue and cry erupted and the keep was filled with the sound of running footsteps. Evangeline waited behind the closed door until Anna stirred, then struck a flint and lit a lantern. She opened the door wide with the maid fast behind her, as if they had both been roused by the ruckus.
To her astonishment, Rufus was leaving his own chamber, his hair rumpled and his feet bare. He wore only his chemise, as if he had been roused from bed, as well. He must have disrobed alone, and with remarkable speed. “What is amiss?” he shouted, as if unaware of what had transpired.
If Evangeline had not witnessed his foul deed, she might have thought him innocent. As it was, she ensured the maid was between them when they reached the top of the stairs. One glance at Lawrence’s broken body and the quantity of blood around him was sufficient to tell her that he was dead. She gasped and averted her face, feeling the weight of Rufus’ gaze upon her.
“Look away, my lady,” he said, his hand falling heavily on her shoulder. His voice was husky, as if he was overwhelmed by the loss of his sire. “This tragedy is not a sight for your eyes.” He might have gathered her into his embrace, but Evangeline retreated a step, keeping her gaze lowered.
“Sir,” she said, hearing the catch in her own voice. “How horrible!”
“My father must have savored too much of the ale,” Rufus said. “He must have missed a step in making his way to the solar. Alas! How shall we continue without him?” He caught his breath and raised a hand to his eyes, evidently on the brink of tears. “I should not have left him alone this night!”
Evangeline watched Rufus, incredulous that he could lie so very well, and he glanced up suddenly. Their gazes caught and locked for a hot moment, hostility crackling between them, and she watched a chill settle in his eyes.
She knew she had gasped aloud when Lawrence fell. In this moment, she was certain that Rufus had heard her.
He knew she had witnessed his crime, and that could not bode well for her own future.
There was no possibility of waiting for her family. There could be no delay and there could be no nuptials. Though her father might take her cause and cancel the wedding once he arrived, Evangeline feared she did not have that time to await him. She had to flee Dunhaven as soon as possible, no matter what the price.
But she dared not give any indication of her scheme.
Chapter 4
Ramsay stirred from his repose in the forest at the sound of cries from the keep at Dunhaven. He had reached the holding after the gates to the village had been closed for the night, and had found a quiet clearing in the forest. Foudre had been brushed down and they had both eaten as well as drunk from a clear stream. He had tethered the destrier, appreciating the horse’s serene nature, and managed to doze a bit before the disturbance began.
He rubbed his eyes and peered through the trees, noting how the gate to the keep opened and someone raced to the village.
Light shone from every window of the tower, yet when he had fallen asleep there had been darkness, save at the gate. Now Dunhaven might have been ablaze within.
But it was the light of lanterns, not fire. What was amiss? Some crisis had occurred in the night and his first thought was that Evangeline was in peril.
A large window on the floor beneath the solar was unshuttered, light streaming from it. He spied a figure moving back and forth in that chamber, and wished he had a glass. He narrowed his eyes and watched, almost convincing himself that it was a lady who moved with such agitation. Was she Evangeline?
She abruptly shuttered the window and he was certain the silhouette was hers. There were few women within Dunhaven’s walls after all, and fewer yet would be in the high chambers. The light was extinguished in that chamber, then a single lantern lit again, though he saw no figures from his vantage point.
Activity continued in the keep, then matters settled. Lights were gradually extinguished. A party carried something large to the chapel in the village and Ramsay guessed it was a corpse. Who had died? And why had the body been discovered at such an hour? He shivered in the night, his gaze drawn back to that shuttered window. He could discern two woman moving back and forth, though only one lantern burned. He wondered at their activity, for they seemed furtive.
What was Evangeline doing and why?
Ramsay kept watch, his resolve to know the truth growing with every moment, along with his dread for the lady’s future prospects.
* * *
At least now Evangeline had an excuse forher sleeplessness. Any woman might have been distressed by the death of her host, never mind the sight of his corpse.
In truth, she and Anna spent the night sewing all of her valuables into the hems of her kirtles. There was no time for the luxury of sleep. By the dawn, their fingers were pricked and the hems of her garments were heavy.
