“Hurry now,” he instructed. “I must go and prepare for this mass competition or I shall lose. Do you want me to lose?”
She suddenly worked very swiftly putting on her hose. “Of course not,” she assured him. “I am hurrying.”
He grunted, looking at her lovely legs as she tied on the garters. “And mind you, do not go looking at any other knights in this tournament,” he said sternly. “You should know that I am the jealous type. I will have to kill anyone that looks at you twice, which will be very difficult for them not to do considering how beautiful you are.”
Annavieve grinned at him. “You are prattling.”
He frowned. “I donotprattle.”
She laughed softly as she put her fine slippers on, admiring them, before going to the jewel box and selecting a lovely necklace of gold and garnets to complement her dress. Her hair was swiftly combed and neatly braided, a simple style but appropriate given the elaborate outfit she wore.
Finely clothed, and with a small silk purse that was in her cache, now containing her comb, she stood by as Kevin hid the jewel box under the bed before politely escorting her from theroom. Dorset’s men were still guarding the duke’s possessions in his chamber down the hall, and were now guarding the duchess’ room as well. With Annavieve in his firm grip, Kevin escorted the bedecked woman out into the sunshine.
A great spectacle await them.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
He had caughtthe knight when he’d been alone, and somewhat drunk in the middle of the day, as he went to collect his horse.
The dark French knight had been hiding in the loft over a livery on the west side of town, buried in the hay, watching everything that was going on in the street beyond. He knew that men were hunting for him after he’d made his attempt on the fine and beautiful lady-friend of Hage, but he still had no answers– who she was or what she meant to Hage. All he knew was that there was some kind of connection between them and, based on the conversation he overheard, he suspected that it was an intimate connection.
But he’d had to flee before receiving any answers when people, alerted by the lady, had come running to help her. He’d had no choice but to jump from the window of her chamber and run off. He was quite fortunate he’d not broken a leg in his jump and, other than a sore foot, he was perfectly fine. But he had to remain hidden at least until the hunt for him died down.
And then he’d seen the drunken knight heading for the livery to collect his horse. After the failure to secure the lady, he was looking for another opportunity to get close to Hage and in the inebriated knight, he found it. His mind, cunning and wily,began to formulate a plan. He realized that he couldn’t wait until the hunt for him died down because he was entered in a mass competition that would take place shortly. Hage would be there and he had to ensure he made that appointment. He’d been thinking on selling his steed since he’d entered the tournament, knowing that Hage would recognize the beast, as well as trying to sell his armor or at least steal something he could wear that would disguise him, but the event of the drunk and vulnerable knight solved all of his problems. Again, the Fates were smiling at him and he was grateful.
The drunken knight was tall but with the slender build of a youth. As the young warrior entered the livery and headed for his steed, boxed up in one of the rear stalls, the dark French knight put his plan into action and slipped down from the loft. The stable was empty but for animals because the stable boys were outside shoveling horse dung out of the small corral and the livery proprietor was across the street speaking with a smithy. The French knight had been able to see all of that from his vantage point in the loft. As the young knight went to put his saddle on his horse, the dark French knight slipped up behind him and, in utter silence, cleanly slit his throat.
The young knight bled out quickly and the French knight covered up the pool of blood with a pile of hay. It wouldn’t absorb it but it would keep it hidden long enough for him to finish his plan and slip away. Silently, he managed to drag the young knight’s body into the very rear of the livery and strip him of his armor. As the boys began to play in the dung outside, now trying to throw shovelfuls of the stuff at each other, their horseplay provided the French knight with the valuable gift of time in order to don the armor taken from his victim. It was tight but it fit.
Shoving the body into another stall under the manger and concealing it with hay, the French knight pushed the dead man’shelm on his head, partially lowered the visor to better cover his features, and finished putting the tack on the horse. He did everything very quickly, fearful that he would be interrupted, so the result was a saddle that was barely secured and thecroupier, or hindquarter protection, which was really just a drape of green and yellow fabric, was not secured to the saddle. It simply blew in the breeze. But the French knight was anxious to leave the livery; the longer he remained, the more chance of his victim being discovered. He would secure the saddle and thecroupierwhen he had the time to do it.
With haste in mind, the dark French knight left the livery quite casually, leading the cream colored horse, and even waving at the stable boys when they looked at him. At a nonchalant pace, he led the horse from the livery, leaving a dead knight in his wake. Even as he traveled down the street, he kept waiting to hear cries of alarm that his victim had been discovered, but the further away he got, the less fear he had of that occurrence. Clad in a dead knight’s armor, and with the man’s fine horse and an array of high grade weapons at his disposal, the dark French knight was more than ready for what was to come.
When he was far enough away from the livery, he lost himself in the numerous alleyways of the town. Now, he had to plan for his coming task.
The Scorpion would be dead by sunset.
*
“What are youthinking, Victor?” William scolded softly. “Do you truly think to attend the mass competition without your wife? Do you plan to keep her bottled up in a tent while you enjoy yourself?”
There was great rebuke in that question. Lying on a bed of pillows arranged on the cold ground of the tent, Victor had arather petulant look about him. But William could no longer refrain from saying anything to Victor about the way the man was treating his new wife.
William had kept his mouth shut when a panicked messenger had come from the Cock and Bull with stories of an attack against the duchess and Victor had sent Hage to investigate instead of going himself. All afternoon, any mention of the duchess had seen Victor either change the subject or straight-out dismiss the woman. Even her safety seemed to mean nothing to him. Now, as Victor spoke of attending the mass competition and made it quite clear his wife was not invited, nor was she a consideration, William could keep silent no longer. Victor’s hatred of his new wife was becoming more and more apparent.
“You will not lecture me,” Victor said unhappily. “I never wanted this woman. Surely she cannot expect to become part of my life. I will do what I please and my activities do not include her.”
William drew in a long, disapproving breath. “I realize you did not want her,” he said, “but the fact remains that she belongs to you. She is your wife. Must I really tell you that you should at least put up a front for your vassals even if you do not want her? If your men see you treating your wife with such disrespect, they will follow suit. Is that want you want? A wife who is no more to you than a dog in the street?”
Victor frowned. “She is being taken care of,” he said. “She has a new wardrobe. She is fed and she is warm. She has protection in the form of Hage. What more do you want from me?”
William cocked an eyebrow. “And that is another thing,” he said. “Hage is with her constantly and the men are starting to talk. It does not look good, Victor. You allow Hage too much close access to her.”
Victor rolled his eyes and sat up. “That is because it is his duty,” he said, his voice considerably quieter. “I have ordered her to tend the woman.”
“What, exactly, does that mean?”
Victor wouldn’t tell him the depths of his orders to Kevin, mostly because he knew that William would not approve. He might even talk about it and those rumors might get back to Edward. He didn’t want to admit that such orders, having another man consummate his marriage, would make him look like a fool and a fiend. Victor had always been concerned with perception so it was a great quandary he found himself in with the duchess. Nay, he couldn’t tell William everything.
