Chapter Seven #2
It was an odd sensation speaking to Annavieve after the night they had shared.
He was polite and professional with her but that foolish soft-centered heart he kept buried wanted very much to sit down and speak with her as she ate her meal.
She looked exceptionally lovely and when he had first entered the chamber, he was positive that her eyes lit up the moment she saw him.
He’d never felt more welcome, or more pleased to see someone, in his entire life.
Still, he kept their conversation professional as he told her that she needed to pack her possessions, as they were due to leave for Ilchester shortly.
Annavieve politely agreed, disappointment in her expression when he turned to leave.
Kevin had to literally drag himself out of the room, hating himself that he wanted to stay.
He hated himself for feeling anything at all towards the woman.
All things considered, it had been an odd, disorienting, yet busy morning.
Now, he found himself heading to Ilchester Castle at the head of Victor’s entourage three hours after leaving London.
Victor didn’t ride a horse. He had a fine carriage, painted white, and he lay in the carriage as it ambled down the road, nursing an aching head.
Annavieve and her nurse rode in the provisions wagon that was towards the rear of the column because Victor wouldn’t allow either woman in his cushioned carriage.
He was selfish that way. Kevin could hear the man groan every time the carriage hit a rut and he wasn’t hard pressed to admit that it gave him some perverse pleasure to hear the duke’s moans of pain.
Victor had yet to ask Kevin about the consummation of his marriage; not once that morning had the miserable man brought it up and Kevin was starting to wonder if he’d forgotten about his order.
He hadn’t been particularly drunk when he’d given it but when Kevin found him this morning, it was clear he’d been drinking all night.
He was coming to wonder with increasing concern if Victor had forgotten the order altogether and if, when he came to discover it, he would deny it completely.
Would Kevin then find himself in trouble for following the orders of a man who had forgotten what he’d said?
God’s Bones, he tried not to think of it.
The nightmare of being in the service of the Duke of Dorset was taking on darker dimensions by the moment.
But he pushed that aside, knowing it would do no good to dwell on it at the moment.
He would deal with the situation if, and when, it arose.
In the fine weather on a beautiful fall day, he focused on the landscape around him, realizing he was very glad to be back in England.
All greenery and no sand. Stop thinking of the foolish duke before you drive yourself mad!
So he tried, thinking of England instead.
At least, that was the plan. Riding at the head of the column afforded him a spectacular view of the countryside, up ahead of the group, but try as he might, it became readily clear that he couldn’t forget about Victor, or Annavieve, or the situation in general.
Those same thoughts he tried to push away were coming back, only now they were mostly centered on Annavieve.
He finally gave up and let the thoughts come.
He was an idiot and he knew it… was it actually possible that he might actually grow to feel something for the duchess?
Already, he knew he did. He simply wasn’t sure what it was yet.
But he knew it was a toxic situation, something that could easily destroy him, so he labored to think clearly about it.
Other than flee, he had no idea how he could get out of the predicament Victor had sentenced him to.
He was trapped, just as Annavieve was, by a man who was callous, immoral, and cold.
That such a man had control over his life infuriated him.
He’d come back to England with such hope…
now, what should have been a prestigious appointment to the Duke of Dorset’s household was something of a nightmare.
As he wallowed in his chaotic thoughts, he could see two riders on the road far ahead.
He didn’t raise the alarm just yet. He wanted to identify the riders before making a decision.
Moreover, he’d sent out scouts earlier in the day and, as he watched the riders approach, he realized that his scouts were returning.
“The scouts are back,” Adonis reined his steed alongside Kevin, breaking into the man’s thoughts. Then, he looked around, off to the northwest. “We are not too terribly far from Windsor, I think.”
Kevin nodded, watching the riders draw progressively closer. “It should be off to the north a few miles,” he replied. “Is Thomas still towards the back riding with the provisions wagons?”
Adonis now looked back down the column. “Aye,” he replied. “He is nursing an aching head like the duke is only he is not as obvious about it.”
Kevin turned to look at him. “Where did you two go last night?”
Adonis grinned. “Into town,” he said. “We spent the night in a tavern overlooking the Thames. We ate, we drank, and we gambled. It was glorious. I did not realize how much I missed such things until last night. I also managed to find a rider who was willing to take a missive north to my father. I sent word early this morning back to Northumberland that we have returned safely and that we are now members of the Duke of Dorset’s stable. My father will want to know.”
Kevin’s gaze lingered on the man. “And what of your mother?” he asked softly.
Adonis shrugged. “She was very ill when we left, Kevin,” he reminded him, trying not to appear as sad as he felt. “I am sure she passed on long ago. I have resigned myself to that.”
Kevin didn’t argue with him. Lady Caladora Scott de Norville had been ill for some time prior to her son leaving for the Holy Land. A cancer, the physics had said. Adonis’ father, Paris, had been utterly devastated at the diagnosis. They all had been.
“If that is true, then I am sure your mother and my father are keeping fine company together in heaven as they await the arrival of others,” Kevin said after a moment.
“But I will admit I hope they have a long wait because I am not yet ready to let go of my mother or of your father or of Uncle William or Aunt Jordan. I would like to keep them with us as long as possible.”
Adonis nodded, noting that the scouts were now quite close. “Much like you, I would like to go home as soon as possible and see my father,” he said. “Do you think the duke will let us leave for a time if we swear to return quickly?”
Kevin hardened at the thought of Victor. “I am not entirely sure,” he said. “He is a strange man. We will need to be very careful how we approach him about leaving, even to see our families.”
Adonis looked at him, sensing something more in that statement, almost as if Kevin knew something that he did not. “Why would you say that?” he asked. “What happened last night after you left the sanctuary with the duke and his new bride?”
Kevin couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, for he trusted Adonis implicitly and he thought that it would be a good idea for Adonis and Thomas to know what Victor had burdened him with.
There might be times that the knights would have to make excuses for him or even cover for him.
But Kevin couldn’t tell him at the moment because the scouts were upon them and they converged on Kevin and Adonis, pulling their frothing mounts to an unsteady pace alongside them.
“My lord,” one of the scouts said breathlessly.
“The road is clear from here to Longcross, which is about a five hour ride ahead if you keep the current pace. There is a festival and tournament going on in Longcross, however, and there are many great houses there, including Salisbury, who is a close and personal friend of Dorset.”
Salisbury. The name rang a bell in Kevin’s head. He glanced at Adonis to see that he, too, recognized the name from the young lord they had encountered and killed in Dover. Son of the Earl of Salisbury.
“Longespee?” Kevin asked the scouts.
“Aye, my lord,” the scout in the lead nodded. “It looks as if the earl is competing in the tournament there. The duke will want to know.”
Kevin nodded and sent the scouts back into the ranks to collect fresh mounts. When they were out of earshot, Kevin turned to Adonis.
“The father of the idiot we killed?” he hissed. “I wonder if the earl knows his son is dead yet?”
Adonis shrugged. “If he does not now, he soon will,” he replied. “We left no witnesses, at least ones that could identify us to the earl.”
Kevin wriggled his eyebrows ironically. “That is, of course, the hope,” he confided. “But an entire room full of tavern patrons saw us. It is always possible that one of those could be around and identify us to the man.”
Adonis shook his head. “If they do, and they are truthful, then the earl will know that his son attacked you first,” he said. “You were defending yourself.”
Kevin grunted. “I suspect that will not much matter,” he said, reining his horse about. “You hold point while I tell the duke about the festivities going on in Longcross.”
Adonis nodded, assuming his post, as Kevin thundered back through his column of men, heading towards the fine white carriage bumping about over the ruts and holes.
Men moved out of his way as the magnificent white horse with the dark mane and tail pushed his way through until they reached the white carriage.
Kevin lifted his visor, peering into the carriage at the duke who was lying on his back on one of the cushioned benches.
“My lord,” he said. “We will make camp in Longcross tonight. The scouts have returned to inform us of a festival going on, one that the Earl of Salisbury is evidently attending. I am told you would want to know this.”