Chapter Eighteen #3
But the same rules didn’t apply to Conor.
De Birmingham knew why she was going to Conisbrough because she had kept him apprised of the information St. John was giving her.
He was accompanying her to Conisbrough, as she had requested it of St. John, and the man had naturally granted her request. He always granted her request, whether or not he wanted to, and Nicola was fairly certain he didn’t want the big red-haired knight along with them, but he was submissive to the lady’s wishes and Nicola didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it.
Janet’s question hung in the air as Nicola continued packing her satchel, mulling over what to say and how, precisely, to answer.
She’d never admitted to anything between her and Kenton, not ever, and she wasn’t going to start now, which would make explaining away her visit to Conisbrough to see Kenton rather difficult.
Still, she had an idea and when the curious silence for her answer became excessive, she spoke.
“I am going to Conisbrough Castle because I have asked to go,” she said. “It would seem that Sir Kenton is a prisoner there and I have a few things I wish to say to him.”
The mention of Kenton being a prisoner brought horror and excitement to the women. “And Sir Matthew, my lady?” Raven gasped eagerly. “Is he a prisoner, too?”
Nicola glanced up at the dark-haired lass. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “I was only told that Sir Kenton was at Conisbrough and it is my intention to speak to him about a few things, not the least of which is the tomb his men smashed in the chapel.”
The servants knew about that but the younger boys did not.
Instinctively, Nicola and her serving women looked to Teague and Tiernan to see if either one of them found interest in their mother’s words.
But there was no interest. Tiernan was under one of the beds, making a tent with a blanket, and Teague was over next to Conor, putting his wooden soldiers into Conor’s open palm.
Seeing that the twins were oblivious, Nicola continued in a softer tone.
“In any case,” she said, shoving the last of her items into the satchel, “I will be at Conisbrough for a few days, mayhap even a few weeks. It will be your task to tend to the children during that time. I will leave them in your care.”
Tab, who was watching his mother seriously, spoke. “I want to go with you, Mam.”
Nicola shook her head. “That is not necessary,” she said. “Sir Conor is going with me. I need you to stay here and protect your brothers. You are the head of the house and hold now, Tab. Teague and Tiernan are your responsibility until I return.”
Tab frowned, looking over at Conor, who was dutifully holding his hand open while Teague put tiny toy soldiers and little spears into it. “I must go and protect you,” he insisted. “I will go!”
Nicola shook her head patiently, stepping away from the satchel as Janet and Liesl tied it up.
“Your brothers need you here,” she said.
“I need you here, Tab. If you go with me, I will be terribly worried about your brothers. But if I know you are here watching over them, then they will be safe. That is all I can ask for.”
Tab was very unhappy that his mother was denying his request to go with her. It was more of a demand, anyway, but regardless, she was refusing him. Frustrated, Tab wandered in her direction, brow furrowed, feet shuffling. He kicked at the wooden floor.
“I want to see Sir Kenton, too,” he finally muttered.
Nicola could see that he was disappointed more than anything. She put her hand on his slender shoulder. “I will tell him that you wanted to see him,” she said quietly. “I am sure that will make him happy.”
Tab looked up at her. “Will you ask him when he is coming back?”
Nicola sighed heavily. “He is a prisoner, Tab,” she said. “Do you know what that means?”
He nodded without hesitation. “It means that he will fish and feast and go into town,” he said. “We were prisoners and we did all those things.”
Nicola cleared her throat softly, seeing that her son had a skewed view of what, exactly, being a prisoner entailed. She sat on the end of her bed, focusing on her serious son.
“Nay,” she said. “That is not what it means. Being a prisoner means that Kenton will be kept in the vault. He will be unable to go anywhere he pleases. It means that those holding him can do what they wish with him.”
Tab was puzzled. “But we were prisoners and we were not held in the vault.”
Nicola lifted a finger, indicating the chamber surrounding them. “But Sir Kenton moved us out of our chambers and put us up here, did he not?” she asked. “He kept us here and would not let us go at first. Do you recall?”
Tab nodded. “But he let us out and he took me to fish,” he said. “Mam, why do we not move back into our old chambers? Are we still prisoners?”
I am a prisoner of guilt, Nicola thought to herself. She forced a smile at her son. “We are not,” she said. “I… I do not know why we do not move back into our former chambers. I have not thought about it, to be truthful. Would you like to direct the moving when I am away?”
That was perhaps a bit attractive to Tab, ordering people about and moving chambers, so he nodded even though he still wasn’t entirely happy about not going to Conisbrough with his mother. Nicola, seeing his indecision, capitalized on it.
“There’s a good lad,” she said, kissing his head. “You will stay here and protect your brothers while I am away. I will return as soon as I can.”
She stood up, hoping to move away from Tab before he started bombarding her with more questions, but she didn’t move fast enough. He latched on to her hand.
“But Sir Kenton?” he wanted to know. “What will become of him?”
Nicola wasn’t entirely sure how to answer him. “I… I do not know, Tab.”
“Will they kill him?”
Her heart lurched, sickened at the mere thought. “I do not know.”
Tab yanked on her. “You must make sure they do not,” he insisted. “Sir Kenton is my friend! I do not want him to be killed!”
Nicola squeezed his hand, trying to soothe him. “I will do what I can to ensure they do not, I promise,” she assured him. “Do not worry overly. I am sure Sir Kenton is well and I will tell him that you have asked for him.”
Tab was frowning, still dwelling on the thought of Kenton being executed, as his mother pulled away and went back to her task of finalizing her packing.
Nicola, however, didn’t look at her son; she was too busy trying not to look at him, trying not to think on thoughts of Kenton’s execution.
Honestly, the thought had never crossed her mind until now and, at this moment, she was fighting off the panic the mere idea suggested.
What was it Kenton had told her once, back when Saxilby and the others had lain siege to Babylon?
If I am captured by Edward, I will probably stand trial for treason and be executed.
Dear God, why had that not occurred to her before now?
He’d spoken those words back in the days when they were harassing each other constantly, back in the days when her attraction to the man, so strong, was something that confused and frightened her.
But now, she remembered his words. She was terrified by them.
She swore, at that moment, that even if he didn’t want her to, she would beg for his life to be spared.
Perhaps those who held him would listen, perhaps not.
All she knew was that she was not going to let Kenton le Bec face execution without a fight.
She would do all in her power to prevent it.
Somehow, the trip to Conisbrough seemed more urgent than ever before.
She had to get to Kenton.