“Why not?”
Could it be Robert had not known of his father’s plans for Elizabeth? Impossible to tell. Dominic would wager Robert’s feelings for Elizabeth—however complicated by politics and ambition—were genuine, and it was hard to credit a man in love with an act that threatened her safety.
“I came here from Dudley Castle, where I was sent to arrest your father.”
“I suppose he didn’t accept that easily.”
“He didn’t accept it at all. Your father is holding hostages: Elizabeth and Minuette. He has said he will bargain for their release, but only directly with William. So you and I are returning to Dudley Castle to talk some sense into your father. If, that is, you are concerned with Elizabeth’s situation.”
Robert had gone very still, and Dominic was as sure as he could be that it was the stillness of shock. So one—minor—point in his favour. “What the hell is he thinking?”
“Your brother, Guildford, has been found guilty of treason and sentenced to death. I imagine your father is thinking of bargaining for his life. He should know better.” And not only because Guildford was already dead. Dominic took a step, forcing Robert to face him directly. “If you do not want a summary conviction of your own, you will come to Dudley Castle and help us get the women out of there without harm.”
A most unusual expression crossed Robert’s face. He looked as though he were about to protest something Dominic had said. But then a ghost of his usual mocking grin replaced the more serious look. “The women, yes. I’ll wager my father has no idea that Elizabeth is not the truest prize. Detaining his sister will rouse William’s ego, no doubt—but it’s Minuette he will kill to protect.”
“If she is so much as scratched—” Dominic could not go on calmly.
“Elizabeth will see to it she isn’t,” Robert said dismissively. “Frankly, Courtenay, I’m not so worried about the women as I am about my father. He has badly underestimated his hostages. It’s much more likely that Elizabeth will find a way to gut him than that he will be able to use her to his own advantage. And because he is my father—” His lips twisted. “I would rather he not be gutted, so yes—I will ride with you to Dudley Castle and do my best to talk sense into him.”
“You’ll be in my custody,” Dominic warned.
“I understand. When all this is over, there are any number of questions that need answers. I’ll gladly spill my knowledge once we’re in London.”
Under arrest, under threat of torture and charges of treason, and still Robert made Dominic feel that he was the one pulling all the strings. Would he never get a handle on the enigma of this man?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Dominic and Robert were still five miles from Dudley Castle when they were met by Harrington, riding alone and clearly relieved to see Dominic.
“Damn it,” Dominic said softly, and spurred ahead to talk without being overheard. “What’s happened?”
“Northumberland had troops in hold to the northwest. They swept down as soon as you had ridden out yesterday and pushed us back. No fighting, but they’re standing their ground around the castle.”
“How many?”
“Three thousand, give or take. They’re setting up camp in a ring around the base of the motte.”
Damn, damn, and damn. He should have anticipated this. Not that it would have changed his decisions—he’d needed to go after Robert, and his fifty men would have been outnumbered and forced to withdraw whether he were in command or not.
“You’ve sent more riders to the king? He’ll need to muster troops.”
“I did.”
“Then let’s make an encampment of our own and wait.” Which he hated with every bone in his soldier’s body.
Fortunately, the wait was nowhere near as long as he’d anticipated. Before they’d been in their small, makeshift camp an hour—Robert in a tent alone, with four men guarding it—he heard the sound of hooves drumming the earth at the same moment his outer scout shouted, “Riders! Bearing the royal standard!”
Dominic was prepared to disbelieve it, although he was on his feet and running to the scout. Though the last of the day’s light was nearly gone, within seconds he spotted the standard for himself—crimson and azure, lions and lilies—and wondered how the hell William had gotten here so fast.
William swung down from his horse before it had stopped moving and jerked his head to Dominic to walk. He wore a brigandine of leather, riveted to small sections of plate inside, to protect his torso. Clearly he had known he was riding into openly hostile territory. Dominic followed him away from the chaos of what looked to be at least four hundred mounted men until they could speak without shouting.
“Situation?” William demanded.
“Robert Dudley is under arrest and held under guard in the camp. He had left Dudley Castle before I arrived; I arrested him at Kenilworth. William, you should know—”
“Northumberland has the women,” he cut in grimly. “I know.”
“How?”
