“What sort of men were they?”
“Welshmen, highborn,” Edmund said, and closed his eye.
Praise God they were not rabble! Noblemen were as violent as any men, but rarely so with women of their own class. If Catherine’s captors were indeed noblemen, it was likely they took her for ransom and would treat her reasonably well.
He turned and asked Hugh, “Has a ransom message come?”
Hugh shook his head.
When William started to get up, Edmund tried to speak again. William put his hand on Edmund’s arm and leaned over to hear him better.
“They were expecting us,” Edmund said in a hoarse whisper. “I heard them say her name.”
William left Edmund and took his men out to search for Catherine and Stephen. Though the kidnappers would have them deep in Wales by now, he ordered his men to search every wood and hut. They found no sign of Catherine, Stephen, or the men who took them. He continued searching alone long after dark.
When he returned, he was too dispirited to face his empty bed. Instead, he went up to Jamie’s bedchamber where he startled the poor nursemaid from her pallet. As soon as she scurried into the adjoining room, he slumped into the chair by the bed. Somehow, it soothed his troubled soul to watch the boy’s face, relaxed and peaceful in sleep.
He awoke at dawn, stiff from sleeping in the chair.
Chapter Twenty-one
Stephen felt the lookouts’ eyes tracking him as he rode across the empty fields toward Monmouth Castle in the bright moonlight. As soon as the gate was opened, he was surrounded by a dozen armed men.
“I have a message for the prince’s eyes only,” Stephen said to each man who questioned him as he was passed up the chain of command. “The prince will want to see it tonight.”
It was well past midnight when Stephen was finally delivered to the prince’s private rooms. To his relief, Prince Harry did not look as if he had been roused from bed. Stephen bowed low, as his mother had taught him.
“So, young Carleton, what brings you to travel alone at this late hour to see me?”
“Lady Catherine and I were taken captive by Welsh rebels, Your Highness,” Stephen said.
“Lady Catherine?” The prince gripped the arms of his chair. “They’ve taken Catherine?”
“Aye, they have. They released me to bring you this message.” Stephen pulled it from his belt and handed it over. “I was told to put it in no one’s hands but yours.”
The prince broke the seal and scanned it quickly. With an impatient wave, he sent his manservant from the room. He did not speak until the door was shut again.
“You’ve had a rough journey and must be hungry.” The prince gestured to a platter piled high with bread, cheese, and fruit on the table next to him. “Come, sit and eat.”
Stephen took the chair on the other side of the small table and accepted the cup of mulled wine the prince poured from an ornate silver decanter.
“They treated you well?”
Stephen nodded and took a long drink from the cup.
“I must consult FitzAlan on this matter,” the prince said. “Lady Catherine is, after all, his wife.”
Stephen’s mouth was full, so he nodded vigorously. “I’ll go with you,” he said as soon as he swallowed. “ ’Tis best you don’t go alone to speak with my brother.”
The prince raised an eyebrow. “You know the content of the message?”
Stephen nodded again.
“These rebels are bold,” the prince said. “Can you tell me why they sent a ransom demand to me, rather than FitzAlan?”
Stephen fidgeted in his chair and looked toward the door.
“Out with it,” the prince commanded. “I shall not blame the messenger.”
