Evermore (Knight Everlasting Book 3) Page 14

  “My lord,” he said, bound hands clasped in front of him as best he could. “I have been your loyal servant for many years. Tending your crops—”

  Sir Walter leaned forward and looked him over carefully. “Indeed, I recognize you. Goodman Fry? But why this perfidy?”

  Fry sobbed. “Hard times, my lord. My own crops failed and my children were hungry. I was offered such sums of gold to betray you that I fear I couldn’t resist.” He looked up and pointed with his tied hands. “That man, Lord Drayton, has been paying me for two years now, along with many others, in a devious attempt to eventually take Dernier and Grancourt as his own.” He leaned over and put his face to the floor, beseeching Sir Walter to spare his life.

  The second man crawled forward, nodding. “It’s all true, Sir Walter, my lord. I, too, was tricked into taking money from that man. I live in the village and have never had a bad thought against you. But the money was too great to resist. My daughter wished to marry and I didn’t have anything to give her …” he trailed off, crying too hard to speak another word.

  Batty turned to Marjorie, chin almost to her chest in disbelief. “If this is true, you were right all along to despise Lord Drayton. I swear, Marjorie, you need to bottle that sense of yours.”

  “You’re just far too trusting,” Marjorie said, unable to look away from the high table. To her dismay, it looked like Sir Walter didn’t believe them. And the scoundrel himself made no move to defend himself, only laughed.

  “What a story they’ve devised,” he said, shaking his head and returning his attention to his plate as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “What proof do you have of their wild claims, Tristan?” Sir Walter asked. “You risk besmirching a nobleman’s good name at the word of these … traitors?”

  Tristan shifted uncomfortably. “They’ve admitted to the location of their base. A large, underground hiding place nearby. It was how they were so easily able to disappear.”

  Sir Walter looked to Lord Drayton, who laughed again. “Your new son-in-law must be gullible to believe such a story. An underground base? It’s the stuff of a jester’s tale to be sure.”

  “I saw it with my own eyes,” Tristan said. “It couldn’t have been built without great amounts of men and coin. Nothing near what these simple folk could come up with on their own.”

  “But why am I their benefactor?” Lord Drayton continued. “What proof is there of that? Is it merely because I’m a guest here now and they found it convenient?” He spared a disinterested look at the two shivering men and Marjorie had had enough.

  “He’s going to get away with it,” she said.

  “He may truly be innocent,” Batty said. “Why would he have any interests up here? His own land isn’t close. Do you think he traveled up here enough to orchestrate what they’re accusing without us knowing of it? With his massive entourage, his visits would have been shouted far and wide. Our closest neighbor is a world class gossip after all. Lady Alise would have sent word if she’d so much as gotten a whiff of him.”

  That was all true enough, but she believed Jordan. She’d seen the state he was in when he’d escaped. She still didn’t understand why he didn’t come forward. He had to come forward, and fast, before the two prisoners were put to death for their supposed slander. She pushed her way from the table and hurried toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Batty called over the hubbub that had erupted in the great hall. No one believed the men’s story. “You’re going to miss everything.”

  She wasn’t going to miss anything if she hurried. She pounded on Sir Leo’s door and opened it without waiting to be given permission. Jordan looked up in surprise, rising from his chair.

  “Marjorie, what’s wrong? Did you run all the way up here?”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “You must come at once. Sir Tristan brought prisoners to confess to being paid by Lord Drayton.”

  “That’s good, right?” he asked. His eyes showed how troubled he was. He wanted to speak up, but something was stopping him. Something other than the fear he wouldn’t be believed.

  “Sir Walter is on the verge of not believing them. They’ll be killed and Lord Drayton will still be walking free. Any day, he’s going to ask for Anne’s hand. Who knows what treachery he has planned after that?” His face paled and she had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what treachery was planned. “You know, don’t you? You overheard him. That’s why he took you in the first place.”

  Jordan nodded and stood. “The reason I didn’t want to come forward, I mean the reason I was talked out of coming forward until Tristan returned is because the place I was taken—”

  “It was underground, was it not? The men said so as well, but it’s as you already feared. Lord Drayton says there’s no proof he had any part of it. Don’t you see, Jordan? You’re the proof.” She inspected him. “It’s been five days now, maybe six. Your face still looks horrid. And no one’s seen you except for Sir Leo, Sophie and me, right? We must say you’ve just escaped.” She had never once lied to Sir Walter before, but it was only a half-lie and it was for the greater good. “Jordan, you’ve been telling the truth about Drayton all along, haven’t you?”

  He looked hurt and slightly offended but there was no time to ease his ego. She lost all sense of herself in her fears for Anne and the castle and took his arm, shaking it.

  “Yes,” he said. He tipped his head to the side, looking at her searchingly. He seemed to find what he was looking for because he sighed and continued, “But their headquarters, or whatever you want to call it, is on Sir Leo’s land.”

  She gasped and staggered back. Not Sophie, too. How could both of them fall into the hands of such skilled liars and betrayers. She shook off those thoughts. Sir Leo didn’t have any part of it, she was certain. The prisoner had said they’d been in Drayton’s employ for two years and Sir Leo had only just returned home from Italy. He’d been gone for ages, traveling the world. Lady Alise bragged about it on her rare visits to the castle. She couldn’t remember the last time the woman had visited. She’d been too busy betraying her neighbor, it seemed. Or she had a modicum of shame and couldn’t face Sir Walter. But Marjorie was certain her instincts that Sir Leo was a good man were true. But would Sir Walter have those same instincts?

  “Sophie will be crushed if Sir Walter denies him,” she said. She didn’t want to say it aloud, but even if Sir Walter believed Leo had nothing to do with it, how could he allow the man into the family? Would Sir Leo want to be part of the family when justice was served to his mother? “I see why you’ve been struggling,” she said, taking his hand. “But we have to think of Anne now. That monster cannot be allowed to marry her.”

  Jordan nodded. “Let’s go. I’ll tell Sir Walter everything.”

  Marjorie sagged with relief. She knew all along she could count on him.

  Chapter 18

  Jordan prayed his sister could forgive him as he hurried after Marjorie. Her plan to “discover” him outside, crawling back from his extended time as Lord Drayton’s prisoner had her leading him toward the kitchen. Pausing in the courtyard between the kitchen and the great hall, she nudged him toward the doors. He could see she was shaking and, without thinking, he drew her into a hug.

  “You did the right thing,” he assured her, glad she didn’t pull away. “You’re making me do the right thing.” He only hoped Sophie would see it that way when he outed the fact that her boyfriend’s mother was a traitor and possibly ruin any chance of her getting to marry Leo. But Drayton had sworn to murder Anne if she didn’t get carried off by her illness. As far as Jordan knew, the modern antibiotics were helping her. He couldn’t stand by and let her marry a murderer, someone who would also murder Sir Walter, then do God knew what to everyone else at the castle and Dernier Keep. He stepped back from Marjorie. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  She smiled tremulously. “Thank you, Jordan.”

  Her faith in him gave him strength and he turned and shoved his way through the do
ors. No one turned his way, all eyes were on the two prisoners begging for their lives in front of the high table. He’d never liked school plays. But now he had to give the performance of a lifetime. Only part of it was a lie, he reminded himself.

  After a quick look back at the doors to see Marjorie looking at him, he found the extra boost of courage he needed. Staggering forward until he was at the high table, he collapsed against it, right in front of Sir Walter. His dear sister shrieked. Probably not because he’d turned up safe and sound after nearly a week, which was surely why everyone else at the table gasped or exclaimed.

  Sir Tristan hurried forward to help him, confused as ever. Jordan was really starting to like the big lug. “Lord Jordan, what’s happened to you?”

  Sir Walter came around the table and helped him to a seat, tutting at his face.

  “Lord Jordan, we thought you had left without so much as a goodbye. But now I see you’ve been badly abused. What, pray tell, has happened?”

  More people called out, asking the same question. Jordan realized too late that he was far too clean. He’d been covered in dirt and grime when he first escaped. Oh well, he’d have to hope no one was paying that close of attention. As much as he wanted to see Drayton’s reaction to his appearance he didn’t dare look that way. He grabbed Sir Walter’s robes and coughed.

  “Sir Walter, I’ve just escaped from what I’m sure was to be my certain death. I happened to be in the forest, er, enjoying the hospitality of your land, and came upon Lord Drayton speaking to …” he glanced around and, to his utter delight, one of the prisoners was the goon who’d broken his nose. “This man! Lord Drayton ordered him to attack Dernier. He spoke of tricking you into letting him marry your daughter, Anne, and threatened to murder her.” At this point he’d finally ruffled Drayton’s feathers and had to raise his voice over the accusations of how ridiculous he was being. “After Anne was out of the way, he promised to take Grancourt for his own, Sir Walter. I heard all of this with my own ears and was discovered. That—that goon beat me up and stuffed me in an underground prison from which I only just escaped and ran back to warn you. With all haste,” he added for good measure, gasping after such a long speech.

  Thankfully, Sir Walter now looked at Drayton with contempt. Jordan put his head down on the table, no longer acting. He was worn out from the performance. He felt a comforting hand at his back but didn’t turn to see who it was.

  “Lord Jordan,” Sir Walter boomed, ending the crowd’s babble. “Can you tell us where you were kept? If it is the same as Sir Tristan claims …”

  Jordan lifted his head. He wanted to look at Sophie, but couldn’t. He’d seen her disappointed face so many times in his life that he knew exactly what she’d look like. Instead, he looked at Anne. Her face was whiter than usual and a red-haired man he’d never seen before clasped her hand, speaking low into her ear. Her eyes were wide and haunted and tears streaked her pale cheeks. He wondered how he would feel to learn someone he thought loved him wanted him dead.

  “Yes, Sir Walter,” he said. “It’s not far. It’s a very clever system of tunnels under Lady Alise’s land.”

  The hall erupted at that juicy tidbit. Vultures, Jordan thought, keeping his head down. He heard Sophie crying, heard Drayton still making light of the preposterous claims against him.

  “Enough,” Sir Walter called out. Once again, a hush fell over the crowd. The only voice was Drayton’s.

  “I don’t know why I continue to take this abuse,” he said, trailing off at Sir Walter’s vicious look. Jordan could imagine the older man being a terrifying foe in his prime. He was terrifying now as he pounded his fist on the table hard enough to shake it.

  “I’ve never known my son-in-law to be a liar,” he said. “And why should Lord Jordan have any reason to tell tales? Do you think I would believe he would do that to his own face? There are too many men speaking against you, Drayton, and none for you. Your own knights are trying to run from you.” Sure enough, Jordan saw some of Drayton’s men get up and try to flee the great hall like rats off a sinking ship. Fortunately, a few of Sir Walter’s men stood and blocked the entrances, hands on their sword hilts and looking like they’d love to be crossed. Drayton himself stood, but Leo grabbed him by the arms and held him fast. Sir Walter nodded approvingly. “Until I am able to settle this to my satisfaction, you are no longer a guest in my home, Drayton.” He clapped his hands and Jordan couldn’t help but be impressed at the next decree. “Take him to the dungeon!”

  Leo wrestled the now furious Drayton out of the great hall. Jordan thought it was a good sign that Leo wasn’t also being dragged off. But Sir Walter seemed just and fair. He’d do a thorough investigation before passing judgment. A few of Drayton’s men put up a fight as they were led away to the dungeons as well, but most gave up quietly.

  If it weren’t for the sound of Sophie still quietly crying a few seats over, Jordan might have felt triumphant. He wished he could see Marjorie, see what she made of it all. At the very least she would be on his side. He had a feeling it would be a long time before Sophie stopped hating him.

  “He didn’t know, Father,” she cried, getting up and clinging to his sleeve. “You have to believe that. Sir Leo is loyal to you, to our family. He couldn’t have known.”

  “Hush, child. Everything will be revealed in good time. Get to your chamber and rest. You’re hysterical and will fall ill. Take Anne as well, she looks as poorly as you do.”

  Jordan snuck a peek. The red-haired man still consoled her but she looked inconsolable. Sophie took Anne’s arm and led her away, both of them huddled close to each other, shaking and small-looking.

  A hand rested timidly on his arm. He looked up and, to his great relief, Marjorie stood smiling at him. “You did well,” she said.

  “I may have ruined everything for Sophie.”

  “If Sir Leo is innocent, it will come to light.” She held up her hand in a placating gesture. “I believe he is.”

  He didn’t want to return to Leo’s room and face his silence the whole night. He knew the man wouldn’t hold a grudge against him. He’d wanted to come forward from the beginning. It was Sophie who was afraid and fought against it. It was because Sophie was so upset that Leo would be grim and quiet. And it was because of him that Sophie was upset.

  “Marjorie, please don’t be offended or feel obligated,” he said. “But would you sit outside with me for a while?”

  She blinked up at him, her face slowly turning red. “I—I suppose.”

  “Just for a bit. Just to look at the stars. You have so many stars here. You don’t have to say anything or sit too close.”

  She looked a bit less uncomfortable. “I love the stars as well. Batty doesn’t like to sit outside after dark because Anne’s dear mother once told us a story about a banshee. It swooped down over the wall and ate any little children who were out of bed past dark.”

  Jordan laughed, his spirits already lifting. “Classic scary story to get kids to obey the rules.” He held out his arm and she put two fingers on it. He almost laughed again at her shyness or propriety, he wasn’t sure which, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. And besides, he liked it.

  They found a spot on a bench past the kitchen courtyard. She sat about a foot away and out of the corner of his eye he caught her sneaking looks at him. They sat in silence, Jordan taking in the huge expanse of glittering stars. He didn’t feel the need to force a conversation and she didn’t chatter nervously like some girls he’d taken out on dates before. He snuck his own peek at her out of the corner of his eye. Was this a date?

  Whatever it was, be it the cool night air, the stars, or Marjorie’s quiet company, his heart stopped being so troubled. For the first time, he was jealous of Sophie for getting to call this place her home.

  *

  Marjorie rested her elbows uncomfortably in the small arrow slit, far up on the top level of the wall. She hadn’t been up there since she was a child. The guards frowned at her every time they wand
ered past but she ignored them. Nothing could dampen her mood. Not the continued tension that permeated the castle, not Sophie crying herself to sleep every night. She was going to meet Jordan up here. He’d asked her especially after supper the night before, saying he’d never been on the wall and would love a tour. She couldn’t help smiling at his odd turns of phrase and didn’t think the wall was anything worth “touring”, but she couldn’t resist his hopeful grin. She’d whispered about it to Batty and Batty had whispered back that he was fond of her. She didn’t think he cared a whit about the view from the wall, but only wanted to spend time with her.

  “He may steal a kiss,” Batty whispered so loudly that she was afraid Sophie would hear it despite her tears, or that Anne would wake up and forbid her to meet anyone on the wall.

  “He’s too much of a gentleman to do such a thing,” Marjorie answered. “And I don’t believe he’s fond of me.”

  “You’re fond of him though.” It wasn’t a question and Marjorie feared she’d been obvious. “I’m only jesting,” Batty said, reaching across the tiny expanse between their beds to tap her playfully on the arm. “Why would you like him?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Marjorie asked, affronted. What was wrong with Lord Jordan? Not a thing, in her opinion.

  “Well, he’s rather awkward. Think of the the first time he accosted you in the hallway.”

  “That was a misunderstanding. I overreacted, that’s all. He’s very kind, very …”

  “Do you like him?” Batty asked, incredulous. “That’s a recipe for heartache. He may be without a position now, but he has a title, which means he must have land somewhere. He’d want someone who’s better able to advance his position.”

  “That doesn’t matter to me,” Marjorie sighed, curling up tight under her blankets.

  “Well, it certainly will matter to him.”