Montague - The Warlord Part 12

"None that I know of," Tess answered, still shocked by the revelation that he thought his name unworthy of her. Amazing. He'd certainly fooled her into thinking just the opposite. "My father wouldn't allow any escape tunnels to be built. He was very proud of the fact that Remmington could withstand any army and said there was no need."

"Yet Remmington fell to MacLeith," Kenric said softly.

"My father was lured outside the walls by trickery on the grandest scale," Tess said tersely. Her grip on a goblet of wine tightened until her knuckles were white. "Dunmore MacLeith will doubtless stay safe and snug behind Remmington's walls unless he gets me back."

Kenric pushed away from the table then strode over to her chair, startling Tess when he pulled her up against his chest.

"You're mine," he reminded her. "I will deal with your stepfather."

Tess wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that she didn't want him to deal with MacLeith, knowing Kenric's methods would destroy everything her family had built, everything it represented. She wanted to weep for the unfairness of it all, because his words tempted her beyond reason, stirred a sadness so great it hurt. She could do neither, for his mouth captured hers for a kiss that was all fierce possessiveness. Tess kissed him back just as hungrily, desperate for his possession, knowing he would make her forget for a while that she belonged anywhere else but here.

A visitor arrived at the beginning of the next week and the news he carried brought the couple's tranquil interlude to an end. One of Kenric's va.s.sals had died at Penhaligon Keep and the knight's b.a.s.t.a.r.d son immediately took control, denying the rightful heir. Everyone was gathered for the evening meal when the news arrived and Tess couldn't help but wonder at the strange silence this announcement caused. Was Penhaligon's b.a.s.t.a.r.d such a dangerous man, then? She looked to Kenric and her fears were calmed by his expression. He wasn't worried.

Nearly an hour later, one hundred of Kenric's soldiers were mounted and ready to leave the fortress. Tess knew it was Kenric's responsibility to ride with his men. Aye, she understood and agreed with his decision to see to this matter personally. But she didn't understand her strange reluctance to see him leave.

" 'Tis a long ride to Penhaligon," Kenric told her. They were standing in the main courtyard, the reins of Kenric's warhorse looped over his arm as he bid his wife farewell. "I might be gone a month or more, but Simon and Evard will remain behind to look after you."

"I shall be fine, milord." Tess gave him an encouraging smile, pleased that she wasn't crying. Why she felt like crying was a mystery. She should be delighted that he was leaving, giving her the perfect opportunity to begin setting her plans into motion. "I do worry that this might be a trick to get you out of the fortress."

Where on earth did that come from? Tess frowned. It was a nice touch, though. She'd been acting the perfect wife for so long that it was becoming second nature.

"Darvell has caused trouble before,", he said rea.s.suringly. "Most of my men will remain at Montague, as well as the regular castle guards. This is nothing more than it seems, wife." He reached out to gently stroke her cheek. "Do you need for anything, just ask Simon."

"If you have no objection, I would like to a.s.sume my place as mistress while you are away," she said quickly. Kenric looked puzzled and she hurried to explain. "There are some changes I would like to make, mostly in the kitchens and great hall. Surely you have noticed the food could be better."

"Aye." He chuckled. "The meals would be considerably better could any of my men digest them. I will speak to Simon before I leave. He will make sure you get any help you need."

His expression turned serious. "Come give me a kiss, wife. 'Tis time to send me on my way."

The kiss was sweet yet brief, both aware of their audience. He turned away first, calling Simon over to walk with him.

"My lady wishes to make some changes as Montague's new mistress. You will see that she encounters no difficulties," Kenric informed his man. He waited until they were beyond Tess's hearing before giving the seasoned knight the rest of his instructions. "Do not let her from your sight unless she is in our chamber. She goes nowhere without you. I am counting on you to see to her safety, Simon." "Aye, milord," Simon replied. "I will keep her safe for you. No harm shall befall the baroness while she is under my care."

11.

It took just three days for Simon to know that he'd lied to his overlord. Given the chance, almost anyone within Montague's walls would gladly murder their new baroness. Aye, there wasn't a doubt remaining in Simon's mind that the Butcher of Wales had married a female intent on overshadowing her husband's reputation. At the close of the second week he admitted defeat as Tess's keeper and sent word to Baron Montague. The baron's anger at being summoned home to tend his wayward wife would surely be less than being summoned home to attend her funeral. Several days later at Penhaligon Keep, the messenger wasn't as sure of Simon's opinion when he gave his report to Baron Montague.

"She what?"

"Aye, milord," the messenger said, taking several steps back. She threatened to hobble Cook by cutting off his toes. Actually, Lady. Tess threatened Cook's entire staff with that punishment, should they displease her."

Kenric clasped his hands behind his back and gazed over the battlement walls, hoping the peaceful view of the surrounding forest would lighten his mood. It didn't work. His voice was edged with anger when he ordered the soldier to continue with Simon's message.

"On the very day you left, a patrol was dispatched to each of your holdings at Lady Montague's order. She sent word that each holding was to provide one-tenth of their stores to Montague Castle at certain intervals. When Derry Town refused, she ordered their t.i.thing barn torched. The mayor changed his mind before your wife condemned their alehouse to the same fate. Sir Simon bids you know that Lady Montague had your hounds impounded and she expects you to pay the pinder his due to release them. Lady Montague has also set a large number of soldiers to weaving reeds for the great hall's floor." The messenger's tone clearly indicated his disgust with that insulting punishment. "And Sir Simon is most concerned about your lady's decision to accompany the village healing woman into the woods to gather cures. Sir Simon tried to discourage her from this idea, but the baroness was most determined, claiming you gave her permission to name the old woman an a.s.sistant and that she is the most qualified. Though Sir Simon and a score of men accompanied the baroness, he worries for her safety because she intends to help the old woman each week."

Kenric unclenched his fists and leaned over the battlement walls. Retaking the keep from Darvell had been an easy task, yet in that time Tess had created an even greater challenge. Aye, this was the trouble that came with being too fond of a wife. Women grew bold when they thought themselves above punishment. "Is that all?"

"Nay, milord," the messenger reported. "There have been many other incidents, mostly with the craftsmen and villagers, but Sir Simon wishes to speak with you personally concerning those matters and would have you know he believes them less serious in nature. He also sends his apologies for troubling you with these problems but feels his powers to control the situation are limited. Lady Tess claims to have your permission to act as mistress of Montague, therefore Sir Simon is bound to honor her wishes even when he feels you would object. Sir Simon says he would be most grateful did you set matters aright before a tragedy befalls your lady."

Kenric would have laughed at Simon's dilemma if not for his anger over Tess's acts. He shook his head in disbelief, wondering if Tess had a wish to die, or if she was too simpleminded to realize how she placed herself in jeopardy.

"Find Roger Fitz Alan," he ordered the messenger. "Tell him we ride for Montague within the hour."

"Skill with a needle is gained through practice and patience," Helen advised, watching Tess begin the hated task of undoing several rows of new st.i.tches to correct her error. She had to admire Tess's determination to create such a complex pattern of Montague's standard with so little experience to ease the task.

"This project may yet prove too ambitious for my talents," Tess admitted.

The two women were seated in chairs that flanked the fireplace in Helen's room and she leaned forward to inspect Tess's tapestry. "You are doing well enough for someone who hasn't st.i.tched in five years. For a novice, your work is very good."

Tess nodded to acknowledge the compliment. Helen leaned back to observe the progress of her sister-in-law's handiwork, wondering at her reluctance to dampen Tess's spirits. She should hate her brother's wife. In fact, she'd been most determined about the matter. But Tess had come into Helen's room a few days after Kenric's departure and announced that she wasn't moving from the spot until seat cus.h.i.+ons were started for the great hall. Almost an entire bolt of fabric lay in ruins when Helen discovered she would dine on bread and water until the task was performed correctly. Two more days dragged by while Helen stabbed her needle into cus.h.i.+on fabric and silently gloated over her sister-in-law's lack of sewing talent. Tess chattered on endlessly, telling stories as if Helen were truly interested in what she had to say. Watching Tess yank out the same st.i.tches over and over finally proved too much for Helen. On the third day, Helen grudgingly demonstrated the correct st.i.tch and the undeclared war became an uneasy truce of sorts. Two weeks later, Helen no longer considered Tess her enemy, but she wasn't her friend, either.

"I should still be angry with you for blackmailing me into this task," Helen said, bending over her tapestry to pretend interest in the work.

"Aye," Tess agreed, not bothering to look up. "You have a most forgiving soul, Lady Helen. I thought you would hold out much longer before agreeing to help st.i.tch these cus.h.i.+ons. And I was not at all sure you would ever talk to me." Tess laid her needle down and gazed into the fire, her expression reflective. " 'Tis been a long while since I had someone to talk with."

"You near talked my ears off those first few days," Helen admitted with a genuine smile. "You asked so many questions that at first I thought it some sort of punishment. What was my favorite color? Did I have any pets? Where did I get the cloths for my gowns? I finally began answering, hoping for a bit of silence. Yet once I started talking, I realized how much I too have missed having company." Helen lowered her gaze and returned to her st.i.tching. "Before my father died I took my friends for granted, not knowing they would soon be called home."

"Your friends do not visit anymore?"

"Oh, they still visit occasionally," Helen said. "At least, they did before Kenric returned. But they used to live here. Young men were sent to train as squires for knighthood. The young women came to learn the workings of a large household, although most were more concerned with finding a husband."

"But why were they called home?" Tess asked. Helen worked diligently over her tapestry, so engrossed in the task that Tess all but gave up on an answer.

"Because their parents did not want them in Kenric's household. Within a month, all were gone. Even my younger brother, Guy, was called away to serve the king."

"You have another brother?" Tess asked sharply, startled by that revelation.

"Guy turned sixteen last summer." Helen's eyes grew misty and she turned away. "I have not seen him for almost a year. Guy's training keeps him very busy and he is allowed to visit just once each summer."

"Now that Kenric has returned, perhaps the king could be persuaded to let Guy come home. Kenric is more than qualified to see that Guy is well trained."

Helen stiffened noticeably and her practiced mask of indifference slipped into place. Tess wished again that she was half as good as the Montagues were at disguising their emotions. No show of temper. No hint of anger. Just a cold, emotionless stare. What a handy talent that would have been in her dealings with the MacLeiths!

"Guy will never return to live at Montague. Not while Kenric is here."

"But this is Guy's home," Tess argued. "If Kenric truly believes Guy should not return, then you should make him see the wrongness in his thinking."

"There is much you do not know about the Montagues," Helen said bitterly, shaking her head.

"I know practically nothing about the Montagues. There is no question that something is wrong in this household. Even a blind man would sense it the moment he walked through the gates. Yet I will never know what is wrong if no one tells me."

"How naive you are." Helen sneered. "Don't you know who you've married? The real reason they call him the Butcher of Wales? He slaughters for sport. Not only enemy soldiers, but defenseless women and children."

"Kenric does not kill for sport," Tess said staunchly. "He is a knight and a warrior. Knights slay their enemies, but they do not kill innocents."

"The Butcher of Wales does. Ask anyone. Four years ago, Kenric and his army came across a rebel camp in the forests of Wales. The Welsh soldiers were off fighting somewhere else, so Kenric put their women and children to the sword." Helen's eyes narrowed, her tone venomous. "That is the reason they call him the Butcher. The knight's code of honor means nothing to a man who lacks honor entirely. He kills anyone who gets in his way. Think of the women he raped as he holds you in his arms at night, how he slit their throats afterward. Think of the children he hacked to pieces when yours gather round your skirts someday. Try to-"

"Stop!" Tess wailed, covering her ears.

"Do you think a monster like that would hesitate to kill the boy whose rightful place he has taken as Montague's baron? Whose heritage he has stolen? You want to know the truth? The truth is he has deceived you, Lady. He made you believe he is the rightful Baron of Montague, fit to marry a woman of n.o.ble blood, when in fact he is no more than a b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"I don't believe it," Tess whispered, still thinking about the Welsh tale. No honorable knight would kill defenseless women and children. Then again, none other was called Butcher. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and began to rock back and forth.

" 'Tis true enough. You have married a b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Helen added dramatically. "Your children will be tainted with a b.a.s.t.a.r.d's blood. Your own soul is stained beyond heaven's acceptance, even though you were tied to Kenric without knowledge of his sin. Father Bronson says b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are the evil seed of man come to life. Sp.a.w.ns of the Devil, put on earth to punish men for their sinful ways."

Tess wanted to escape to her chamber, to hide from the truths she'd so foolishly demanded of Helen. But now that she was finally getting what she wanted, it would be foolish to leave. Knowledge was a useful weapon. She forced herself to respond to Helen's ridiculous beliefs.

"You and Kenric bear a strong resemblance," Tess began, but Helen interrupted her to explain.

"He is my mother's son," Helen admitted. "My mother was a lady-in-waiting to King Edward's mother. Our king was as handsome in his youth as he is now in his prime. And the Plantaganet males have always had an eye for beautiful women. My mother was very beautiful," Helen said with a shrug. "Her marriage to my father was arranged as soon as the pregnancy was discovered."

"The king is Kenric's father?" Tess whispered, truly shocked by that news. Oh, Lord. This changed everything.

"Aye, 'tis the sorry truth." Helen stood up and turned toward the fire. Tess remained seated, stunned into silence.

"My father was married once before but his first wife died childless. He was near two score years and the last of his line. Without an heir, Montague would revert to the crown upon my father's death. Old King Henry saw a way to avoid the problems involved with naming a new baron and to avoid the scandal of his son's pregnant mistress. He gave my father a ready-made heir to claim as his own and my mother a name for her b.a.s.t.a.r.d. No one expected they would have more children. Yet I was born four years after they wed, Guy, three years after that. My mother had a calming influence on Father, but his hatred of Kenric was obvious to all by the time Guy was born. In the last years of his life, my father did everything within his power to drive the king's evil seed from our home. But there was nothing he could do to change the fact that Kenric was his legal heir."

And Tess thought to pet.i.tion the king for an annulment from this son? He would laugh in her face. Her elaborate plan to gain the king's support went up in a puff of smoke.

"You must-"

"I must think," Tess interrupted, waving a hand for silence. Perhaps a priest would annul the marriage because Kenric was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. If she could find a priest with no wish for a long life, Tess thought gloomily. And what would her own life be worth if she exposed a secret the king himself had gone to such lengths to hide? It would never work. There would be no annulment.

"Those within Montague know the truth," Helen said, seeming determined to interrupt Tess's thoughts. " 'Tis the reason they will not accept Kenric as their baron."

"You have done nothing to ease the situation," Tess said irritably. Helen's hatred of Kenric was the least of her concerns at the moment. Yet Helen's next comment drew her back to the conversation.

"That is the reason my younger brother cannot come home. If Guy returns to Montague, Kenric will kill him. Guy is the true Baron of Montague," she said haughtily, earning a raised brow from Tess. "Given the opportunity, I believe my father would have killed Kenric to see matters set straight."

"But your father was not given the opportunity to harm Kenric?"

"Nay, the king must have suspected Kenric's danger," Helen said. "Kenric was called away to train at court soon after Mother died giving birth to Guy."

Helen fell silent and began to pace. Tess leaned against the cold wall, her senses numbed by Helen's tale. No wonder Kenric was so ruthless. She felt a moment of intense sorrow for the child forced to grow up resented and hated by the only family he could call his own. How could a man show compa.s.sion when he'd known none in his own life? Tess shook her head in defeat. What was she thinking? It didn't matter if she pitied him or not. That lack of compa.s.sion would be the death of her people, when he seized Remmington.

She thought of the gentle way Kenric could kiss and caress her, then imagined his blade at her neck instead. Think of the women he raped as he holds you in his arms at night, how he slit their throats afterward. He would return soon, would doubtless want her in his bed soon after. How would she be able to bear his touch when every time she closed her eyes her mind was filled with the picture of innocent babes falling beneath his sword?

Tess shuddered, remembering how she'd welcomed his caresses, how she'd reveled in their lovemaking. The man she'd made love to was one of her creation, one she'd only imagined. In truth, she'd lain with a murderer. The Montagues had created this vile monster, the man who might one day be called the Butcher of Remmington. Her rage focused on the man responsible for her husband's upbringing, the one who had turned an innocent child into a soulless devil.

Tess rose and caught Helen by the elbow, gently but insistently pus.h.i.+ng her down onto the chair. She clasped her hands behind her back and took up Helen's task of pacing, her voice amazingly calm considering the chaos of her thoughts.

"You must despise Kenric for causing your father such heartache and preventing Guy from a.s.suming his rightful t.i.tle."

"Why, I believe I do," Helen agreed readily. "The king placed his evil seed in our home and-"

"Enough!" Tess bellowed. Helen scooted as far back as the chair would allow, her eyes wide. Tess resumed her pacing. "The words 'evil seed' will never be spoken in my presence again. It is wrong to blame a child for the sins of his parents. It is wrong to seek revenge on the man who had no control of his destiny, for a sin he didn't commit. That is what your priest should have taught you, Helen, though it sounds as if he had not a drop of Christian charity in his pious blood. Doubtless your father greatly influenced his thinking."

Tears began to cloud Tess's eyes as she imagined the cold, lonely childhood Kenric had surely endured. She swiped them away angrily, knowing she could never allow herself to pity him.

"The sin does not lie on Kenric's shoulders," she said, hating Helen's father more than she'd hated anyone in her life. "And his blood is no more tainted than yours or mine."

Tess stopped her pacing and stood directly in front of Helen, though Helen continued to stare off into s.p.a.ce, her face pale. Tess leaned forward, trying to regain her attention. "Are you listening to me, Helen?"

Several moments pa.s.sed in silence. Tess was about to repeat her question when it was answered by another voice.

"I do not believe she is."

"Oh, dear Lord," Tess groaned. Swaying slightly, she prayed that her ears deceived her. She closed her eyes, unable to find the courage to turn around and face her husband.

12.

"I wish to speak with you in our chamber, wife." Kenric's voice was strained, as if he knew he'd be yelling if he talked any louder. Tess knew that was not a good sign. She bowed her head, clasping her hands behind her back to hide the way they shook.

"Now, Tess!"

Kenric turned on his heel and stalked out, slamming the door shut behind him. Both women jumped several inches at the sharp sound then Helen began to sob.

"He heard everything!" Helen wailed, wringing her hands in terror. "He will beat me for telling, I just know he will."

Tess stared blankly at the door. If she'd tried to imagine the worst end to her conversation with Helen, this would surpa.s.s it. What else could possibly go wrong? A strange calm settled over her, a numbing sense of peace too welcome to resist. Gazing down at Helen's tear-streaked face, she managed to give her an encouraging smile.

"Do not worry, Helen. He is sure to spend his anger on me."

Helen looked horrified, her eyes reflecting her pity. Tess patted her hand rea.s.suringly, then walked toward the door. She was just reaching for the latch when the door shot open. Kenric reached inside the room to grab her wrist and yank her into the hallway.

"You are hurting me," Tess said breathlessly, tugging against his painful grip. She was nearly running to avoid being dragged down the tower steps. Kenric's long, angry strides and her own quick, choppy steps nearly set her teeth to rattling.

Kenric stopped so abruptly at the foot of the steps that Tess crashed into his back. So did the two soldiers trailing close on her heels. Kenric reached over her shoulder and shoved the guards away.

"You have not learned the meaning of the word. Yet." Tess's guards retreated several steps when she opened her mouth to reply. Fortunately an interruption turned the baron's attention away from Tess.

"Milord!"