The truth chilled Ramsay as little else could have done. Had he known that fact, he would never have faced Rufus’ messenger. Had he known that truth, he would never have lingered for a night, regardless of the lure of Evangeline’s charms. He feared he had erred and that his mistake was beyond repair.
And his lady would pay the price.
How could they flee far enough to evade Rufus? Ramsay was not certain it could be done.
But he would try. He knew better than to attempt to change her choice of destination, though he feared this ride might be his own doom. If naught else, Kinfairlie was the closest haven whose lord could be relied upon to defend Evangeline against all foes. That was no small detail.
Ramsay spun to face the others, who were mounted and awaiting his instruction. “We must disguise our course by dividing the party, the better that our destination cannot be divined. We will leave three trails from this refuge in the hope that by the time Rufus determines the genuine one, the lady will be safe.” He addressed Talbot upon his chestnut destrier. “You must ride west, as if we intend to seek passage at Carlisle or further south. Otto, I bid you make for the king’s own hall, to bring the charge against Rufus. Both of you must endeavor to seem a much larger party, as if we all continue together.”
The two men nodded, then conferred with the squires, dividing the horses and the baggage.
Ramsay turned to Evangeline. “I dislike that Kinfairlie is so obvious a destination, but we have a day’s lead. We shall have to make it sufficient.” He smiled at her then, hoping she did not guess the depth of his fear for her. “Should we make good time, my lady, we might even halt at a chapel.”
“I favor flight over prayer,” she said, a sentiment he could only applaud. He lifted Anna to Gealaich’s back, even as Hugues held open the door. The other palfrey was claimed by Talbot, who always had a cursed number of bags.
“We ride!” Ramsay said, exchanging a glance with Talbot and then with Otto.
And if Ramsay MacLaren said a prayer as he rode out of the stable with his lady wife and her maid, his squire, Hugues, hastening to mount his palfrey and follow, he certainly could have been forgiven for doubting that the efforts of one mortal man could save his lady.
Aye, Ramsay knew Rufus Percival too well to know that victory would not be easily won.
* * *
Rufus Percival turnedthe sapphire ring in the sunlight, examining the familiar profile etched into the stone. It was just as it had always been, as beautiful and as blue as a clear summer sky. A marvel, to be sure.
“And you say he had it?” he asked his gamekeeper again. “The man who called himself Ramsay MacLaren?”
“Aye, sir. In his purse, it was.”
“And how was this man dressed?”
The gamekeeper shrugged. “Like a huntsman, sir. In plain but sturdy garb, a jerkin, a cloak and boots.”
That did not sound like the knight Rufus had competed against. “Spurs?”
“Nay, sir. I do not imagine he was a knight. I took him as a brigand.”
That might explain how he had claimed this ring. Evangeline had not been wearing it when she arrived at Dunhaven. She had said it was secured in her chamber, but he had not found it there either. Perhaps it had been stolen from her. Perhaps she had given it away.
He flicked a glance at the waiting man. “Clean-shaven?”
“Nay, sir. A beard and his hair was long. Dark brown it was.”
While Ramsay had dark hair, he had always been clean shaven in Rufus’ experience. “His horse?”
“I did not see it, sir.” The man swallowed. “The horses were behind him in the shadows, sir. I could not see them, but I heard them.”
Why would someone declare himself to be a knight unknown in these parts? But if he was not Ramsay, how had he known Alienor’s name? Rufus could not fathom it.
Nor did he like it.
He thought of the man who had offered to locate Evangeline’s corpse, the one who had taken the maid with him, the man who had never returned to Dunhaven. Had that been Ramsay MacLaren? Rufus could not be certain. He had never looked beyond the man’s simple garb and his deferential manner.
If it had been Ramsay MacLaren, that knight had tricked him apurpose.
The gamekeeper cleared his throat and spoke fearfully, as if in dread of the direction of Rufus’ thoughts. “But he had a crossbow, sir, a fine one, as well as his sword.”
Rufus looked up with interest. “How fine?”
