As soon as her son saw her, he broke free from Alys and flung his arms around her legs. She knelt down to kiss him.
“Jamie, stay here with Alys while I go speak with these men,” she told him firmly. “Do not go out the gate.” She gave a meaningful look over his head to the housekeeper, who responded with a quick nod.
When she stood up again, bright sparkles crossed her vision. She’d never fainted in her life, and she could not permit herself to do so now. She would meet her duty to protect her household.
She waved the others back and went to stand alone in front of the gate. At her nod, the men dropped the drawbridge over the dry moat with a heavy thud.
Through the iron bars of the portcullis, Catherine could see the men on horseback on the moat’s other side. They had a hard look to them, as though they had seen much fighting and were prepared for more.
She turned and gave the order. “Raise the portcullis, but be prepared to drop it at my signal.”
The iron chains clanked and groaned as the men turned the crank and slowly raised the portcullis.
As soon as it was high enough for her to pass under it, she stepped out onto the drawbridge. She sensed the waiting men’s surprise. They stared at her, but they remained where they were, just as she intended.
As they rode toward Ross Castle, William Neville FitzAlan’s thoughts kept returning to the traitor’s wife. The traitor’s widow now. Lady Rayburn’s last message to the prince led to her husband’s capture and execution. Rayburn deserved his fate. But what kind of woman could share a man’s bed for years and yet betray him to his enemies?
William wondered grimly if she had been unfaithful in other ways as well. It seemed more than likely. In his experience, fidelity was rare among women of his class. The knightly ideals of loyalty and honor certainly did not guide female behavior. Perhaps it was desire for another man, then, rather than loyalty to Lancaster, that led her to expose her husband’s treachery.
Regardless of her motive, both he and the king had cause to be grateful. The lady, however, now presented a political problem for the king.
With his hold on the Crown precarious, King Henry needed to give a strong message that traitorsand their familieswould be severely punished. The powerful families needed this message most of all. As the wife of an English Marcher lord who turned against the king, Lady Rayburn should be sent to the Tower—a place where “accidental” death was a common hazard.
On the other hand, Prince Harry insisted it was Lady Rayburn who had sent him the anonymous messages about rebel forces. However, few of the king’s men believed it, and the man who delivered the messages was nowhere to be found.
The king was keeping his own counsel as to what he believed. The truth, in any case, was irrelevant. In the midst of rebellion, the king could not leave a border castle in the hands of a woman. The Marcher lords who were supposedly loyal were nearly as worrisome as the rebels. If one of them took Ross Castle—whether by force or by marriage—the king would be hard-pressed to take it back. The king wanted it in the hands of a man of his own choosing.
William was the man the king chose. His loyalty had been proven through the severest of tests. Even more, the king understood that William’s hunger for lands of his own was so deep that, once he had them, no one would ever take them from him. Ross Castle would be safe in his hands.
William led the attack that morning, catching the enemy unprepared. At the king’s command, his guard executed Rayburn on the field. The traitor’s head barely left his shoulders before the king declared his lands and title forfeit and granted them to William.
William rode straight out from the battlefield to secure his property, the blood of the enemy still wet on his surcoat. But there was one last price he had to pay for it.
The king put the fate of the traitor’s widow in his hands.
The choice was his. He could send the lady to London to be imprisoned in the Tower for her husband’s treason. Or, he could save her—by making her his wife. The king sent the bishop along to grant special dispensation of the posting of banns in the event William chose to wed. The king knew his man.
The prince would be enraged if Lady Rayburn was imprisoned. While the king could disregard the prince’s feelings, William could not. Young Harry would be his king one day. William would have wed the widow regardless. It was not in him to let harm come to a woman or a child if it was in his power to prevent it.
His thoughts were diverted from the problem of the woman when he crested the next hill. Pulling his horse up, he stopped to take in the sight of his new lands for the first time. Lush green hills gave way to fields of new crops surrounding the castle, which stood on a natural rise beside a winding river. The castle was an imposing fortification with two rings of concentric walls built around an older square keep.
Edmund Forrester, his second in command, drew up beside him. “On the river, easy to defend,” Edmund said approvingly.
William nodded without taking his eyes off the castle. All his life, he’d wanted this. In his father’s household, he was provided for, but he had no right, no claim. His position was always precarious, uncertain. Now, at long last, he had lands of his own and a title that declared his place in the world.
If only John could be with him on this day of all days! Four years since his brother’s death, and he still felt the loss keenly. John was the only one with whom he shared a true bond. Still, he was glad to have Edmund along. They had fought long years together in the North. There were few men he trusted, but he trusted Edmund.
William spurred his horse and led his men in a gallop down the path to the castle, his heart beating fast with anticipation. Although the lookouts should have seen the king’s banner as they rode up, the occupants of the castle took their blessed time opening the gates. He was fuming long before the drawbridge finally dropped.
As the portcullis was raised, a slender woman ducked under it and walked out alone onto the drawbridge.
William squinted against the sun, trying to see her better. Something about the way the young woman stood, staring them down with such self-possession, caused his men to shift uneasily in their saddles.
Her move was so daring that William smiled in appreciation. Clearly she intended to give the guards opportunity to drop the portcullis behind her, should he and his men prove to be enemies. There was one flaw in her scheme, however: The castle might be saved, but the lady most surely would not.
Chapter Two
Catherine scanned the soldiers on the other side of the dry moat as she waited for one of them to come forward. They wore armor and chain mail, and their horses looked as if they had been ridden hard. A lone churchman rode with them, his white robes bright in a sea of burnished metal.
