Chapter X

 

THEY ARRIVED at the great Norman walls of Canterbury. Building of the cathedral had begun in 1070 A.D. and the city’s fortunes and prestige had grown accordingly. The castle fortress was well within the city limits. Griffith of Nottingham pulled on the mule’s reins and the animal stopped as if understanding the journey was over. The cacophonic sounds of the market square reached their ears.

Griff determined that Ellie would continue inside with the vegetable cart and deliver the beast and cart to its rightful owner who was anxiously awaiting its return. Hubert de Burgh had commandeered the transport from a loyalist confederate for Griffith, but the man needed it back. Then she would present herself to the watch at the castle gate. From there, she would be in Tyndale’s custody and it was unlikely they would see each other ever again.

“If all goes according to plan,” he said with a rueful grin to cheer her. “If we are found out, then you may see my handsome head on a spike soon enough.”

“Do not say such things, even in jest,” Ellie said miserably. “You must live so that when this war is over I will come and find you.”

Griffith kissed very lightly on the lips. “You will be a fine married lady by that time and will forget all about your guardsman. But to please you, I shall live. Now go, Ellie. Go before someone sees us and questions our purpose.”

Ellie knew it was not fear of discovery that caused her guardsman to jump free of the cart. She watched as he darted off into the wood, his quiver and bow slung to his back, his helmet tucked under his arm. Ellie knew that Griffith suffered as much as she did at their parting. Lingering to say good-bye only prolonged their suffering. Griffith of Nottingham was stronger than she was, she thought as he disappeared into the sun-dappled forest.

Ellie flicked the reins and the mule continued the journey inside the walls. A rock of cold despair and loneliness settled in the pit of her stomach. She felt certain she would never hear from Captain Griffith again despite her brave words. The risk to him was too great and she would not betray him, as he rightly surmised.

But she would never love another. Her heart and mind and soul had already claimed Griffith of Nottingham for her own. She would not turn traitor on herself.

 

TYNDALE LOOKED over his bride-to-be with barely concealed disdain. The Lady Elspeth had regaled him with a tale of being captured, blindfolded and then released en route to Canterbury. Though she could give him no details as to how the capture occurred, nor could she explain why a journey from Dover Castle that was only a day’s travel managed to extend well into the next day. She claimed she had been walking and hiding out from her assailants but her dress and footwear belied this tale. Lady Elspeth appeared remarkably tidy for a night spent skirting the forces of evil, thought Tyndale drily. Never mind a long and dusty trek to Canterbury on foot. The watchman said she was on foot when she approached the castle gate so perhaps she was telling the truth after all.

He tried to appear concerned. “Where is your guard? Where is the noble Captain Griffith?”

“We were separated soon after capture. I believe he is dead.”

Tyndale frowned. His fingers grazed her bosom where Griffith’s arrow had left a mark. “How did you come by this wound?”

The lady flinched. “I struggled. A knife was held to my chest to subdue me. It is but a flesh wound. When my captors received word that you meant to launch a search party, they were eager to be rid of me. I have you to thank for my release, my lord. My father showed less affection when Hubert de Burgh petitioned him for my ransom. It is on his account that I am no longer a maid and I must depend upon the grace of your forgiveness, my lord.”

She blushed for him, rather prettily Tyndale thought, and averted her eyes.

“Nonsense,” he said, with some distaste for the subject. “Your father did the sensible thing. These tyrants would have taken the ransom and your maidenhood into the bargain. Surely a woman’s virginity is not worth the cost of Louis’ campaign against Dover Castle? No, I thought not. Now, your lady’s maid will escort you to your rooms, my dear. You must refresh yourself and we will speak anon.”

Lady Elspeth was too shattered to argue with Tyndale’s assessment of a woman’s worth. “There will be no need to speak further today, my lord. I have told you all I know. I have lost confidence in men and their stratagems to solve England’s troubles. All I require from his lordship is a bath and to be left alone.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Tyndale bowed stiffly as Lady Elspeth left the hall.

Tyndale turned to the captain of his guard. “Her ladyship believes Griffith of Nottingham is dead. Get me confirmation that this is so; if he be alive, arrest him on a charge of treason and bring him to me. De Burgh is not the only one to employ spies in his camp. I’ve received word that Captain Griffith is the traitor in the Earl of Dorset’s company. Our friend, Nottingham has provided de Burgh with news of Louis’ impending siege. What I cannot make out is Lady Elspeth’s involvement. I know she lied about their capture because one does not capture one’s own spy. Cassingham would have debriefed Griffith as soon as he had him safely back in camp, of this I am sure. Why did she play false with me?”

“Perhaps her ladyship is unaware of the captain’s double dealings,” offered Tyndale’s guard.

“Perhaps.” Tyndale crossed one arm over the other and pressed a finger to his chin. “But I feel there is something more going here. She did not have the manner of a maid who had survived an ordeal. Consider this: the man who robbed her of her maidenhood was Captain Griffith. And now she claims he is dead. It is too convenient.”

Tyndale spun on his heel. “Find him. He could not have gotten far. I have a suspicion it was Griffith who delivered the Lady Elspeth to the gate. If I am correct, her ladyship will be the first to bear witness to her lover’s beheading.”

 

AFTERNOON SHADOWS stretched through the forest. Griff had refreshed himself at a stream and was preparing to resume his tramp through the wood when he heard the sound of horses’ hooves.

Tyndale’s guardsmen, wearing the colours of Canterbury Castle were on horseback combing the woods for something—or someone. Griffith did not think for a moment that Ellie had betrayed him but he realized the search meant Tyndale had not believed her story. He hid behind a thick oak and watched as the riders slowed their pace and circled the forest glade. The stream had caught their attention. The three men rode their horses to the water’s edge and dismounted.

“We ain’t going to find him, lads. Griffith of Nottingham is well away by now—if he be not dead as her ladyship claimed.”

“I’ll warrant he is not dead, gents. I warrant the Lady Elspeth has played false with us all.”

Griff craned his neck to see the speaker’s face. He was an older man, a soldier, scarred from battle and cold-eyed.

“And I reckon that he is,” said the younger. “We shall find a corpse, lads, to bring home to his lordship. Lady Elspeth would not deceive her own father on the fate of his captain. Consider that.”

“Aye, I do consider that she has deceived her father, and our own Sir Tyndale, and those who would protect her and she shall pay the price, mark you. Treason is a capital crime. Twill not go well for her ladyship with or without her Captain Griffith.”

“I say it will go better with,” said the third man as he rose to his feet. “For if she be innocent, he can say as much and if she be guilty, they can die together.”

Griffith bit back an oath and raised his eyes to the sky. Ellie had been abandoned first by her father and now by the man who had promised to wed her. He slammed his fist into the tree in frustration as he watched the soldiers move toward their horses. To leave her now could mean her death. To go to her would mean his, and perhaps many more besides.

“Damn it straight to hell,” he cursed and roared out of the forest, lunging toward Tyndale’s guard.

 

SIR TYNDALE entered Ellie’s chambers with all the authority of a husband. She sat at her glass, clean from her bath, dressed in a silk robe and nightgown. Her maid worked a comb through her damp, newly washed hair when Tyndale walked in and signalled the girl to leave.

Ellie composed her expression to one of mild rebuke and bashful delight at the appearance of her betrothed in her bedchamber. “My lord, I am about to dress. You honour me with your eagerness but we shall have many such hours together after we are wed.”

“Of course, my lady, forgive my intrusion. I came to deliver some rather distressing news. I fear you will take the report badly. I am here to offer you comfort and privacy in which to grieve should you feel the need.”

Ellie turned to him, alarmed. “What has happened?” Her heart hammered in her throat.

“Your guardsman, Griffith of Nottingham has been captured. He has confessed to the crime of treason. Sadly, his confession means he will be executed without delay tomorrow morning. I am as shocked as you are, Elspeth. Your father had such confidence in the young man. He insists you knew nothing of his double-dealing. He claims you are completely innocent and believed him to be dead.”

Ellie looked into Tyndale’s eyes, trying to read his meaning. “You did not need to take the word of my guardsman, my lord. I had already given you mine.”

“Of course,” he replied smoothly. “It is only ... after the incident at Dover Castle, in which you lost your precious maidenhood to your guard ... I wondered. Perhaps you had developed feelings for him and wanted to protect him. It would be most natural under the circumstances for sensitive girl like you to do so.”

“Where is he being held?” Ellie said imperiously. “I should like to question him myself. This report is too extraordinary. I fear his confession may have been coerced.”

“Do you indeed!” Tyndale laughed. “He is a traitor to the crown. Does it matter how his confession was obtained?”

“To which crown is he a traitor,” asked Ellie coolly, “English or French?”

“Are they not one and the same?” Tyndale smiled. “Coerced or otherwise, your captain is being held in a dungeon cell and will be executed for treason. Beheading is too merciful a death in my opinion but we want to send a message—not incite another war. I have already heard rumblings. It seems your captain has friends in the peasantry. One must take care not to make a martyr of him.”

Tyndale’s eyes roamed over the rise of her breasts. “Elspeth, you tempt me too much in your present state. I would sample what Griffith of Nottingham has already tasted.”

Ellie would have burned with rage and shame if she were not overcome with terror for Griffith’s life. Tyndale’s glib declaration of beheading had left her sick and helpless but she knew she must take care not to show herself weak.

She rose to her feet and stood before him, allowing her gown to fall open beguilingly. “Surely the anticipation is mine, your lordship. After all, how could a mere soldier satisfy a lady when there is a husband such as you in her future?”

Tyndale groaned and nibbled her neck. “I am delighted to hear you speak so,” he murmured. “I feared this captain of yours had stolen your heart as well as your virginity.”

Her betrothed was not repulsive in looks but his touch repulsed Ellie in every way possible. She bit back the urge to recoil from him. Her response made her realize that she would never be happy with this man. It was an assault on her feelings to have him anywhere near her.

“Men are foolish where the hearts of women are concerned,” she said. “We are not so easily swayed, sir.”

“Hmm. That is not what my spies inside Dover Castle have told me. It was reported back to me that you took great delight in Captain Griffith’s defilement. I was confident the account was exaggerated; it is good to hear my confidence confirmed from your own sweet lips.”

He touched her lips with his and would have done more if Ellie had not broken away. “Your spies may know politics but they do not know women. I took great delight in being rescued from a vicious rape at the hands of de Burgh’s mercenary soldiers. The captain claimed to be delivering me from that fate. The earl had given leave to three of his soldiers to do with me as they pleased. Griffith persuaded de Burgh to let him to perform the deed instead.”

“And was the deed performed to your liking, Elspeth?”

Ellie bristled. “You would do well to remember that I am the only child of your king’s loyal servant and the future Countess of Dorsetshire.”

“Yes, of course, my dear. I forget myself. Only that you are so beautiful and I feel ill-used—cheated of the pleasure of knowing what Griffith has enjoyed between your legs.”

The shock and fury of being addressed like a common whore by the man she was to marry was almost too much. In taking her virtue and ruining her for marriage to this vile man, Griffith had done her a great service. Her guardsman had done his duty by her in other areas of warfare as well. Griffith of Nottingham had taught Ellie to mistrust the words of men. She would listen only to the counsel of her heart from this point forward. To survive in dangerous times, one must speak lies and wait for an opportunity.

“Lord Tyndale, you are making me blush. I feel quite exposed under your gaze. I beg you, good sir, give me leave to dress that I may come to you in your chamber tonight. You will continue my instruction in the pleasure that should have been ours in lawful wedlock.”

Tyndale’s eyes glistened but he gave into her request and left the room with a civil bow.

Ellie leaped to the sitting room door and called for her maid. “Fetch me a suit of riding clothes,” she instructed. “And order a horse saddled for my use. I would take a ride before the evening meal.”

The girl nodded and left the room to do as she was requested.

Ellie sat down at the glass and examined her reflection. At least the plan burning in her heart was not visible in her eyes, she thought as she folded her hair into a thick braid. When her hair was dressed, Ellie scanned the room for an object that would meet her purpose. Thin, but strong ... a metal rod or bar....

Her eyes lit upon it.

Ellie held up a bronze and jewelled hairpin. It was long, thin, and sharply pointed but would it be strong enough for the task? This was not how she imagined her arrival at Canterbury, Ellie mused as she bent the hairpin experimentally. The metal rod did not give way; it would do.

How quickly her life had changed.

And how swiftly her life would end if she were caught.