Chapter Fourteen #3
“Wellesbourne,” Dane reminded him. “She is a Wellesbourne. After hearing what Benoit de Wilde did to her, we will not mention that name again. Understood?”
Cort nodded. “I never liked him, anyway,” he said. “But Trenton and Lysabel… I can hardly believe it.”
“Believe it,” Dane said, an eyebrow cocked. “And, unfortunately, time is of the essence. Trenton has asked Da to go to Wellesbourne Castle, and it is my assumption that he will go very soon. That means we must take care of Adela sooner rather than later.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Dane shrugged. “I’m not advocating killing the woman,” he said. “I may hate her for what she’s done, but I cannot condone outright murder of a female. She’s a greedy sort – she might respond well to a bribe to leave England and never return.”
Cort’s features twisted into a wry expression. “And if she takes the money and returns anyway? What then? She’ll be back in his life and the problems will be compounded. We need to get rid of her, Dane, not simply sweep her under the rushes.”
Dane couldn’t disagree. “I suppose we could abduct her and hide her away in a vault somewhere, forever.”
“Or we could sell her to the highest bidder,” he said.
“You know they still have that old slave market over in Northwic, the one that has been around since the days of Danelaw. I’ve heard that they still deal in slaves with men from France and beyond.
They particularly like pale-skinned women in The Levant, you know. ”
Dane looked at his brother, a grin on his lips. “Sell her?”
Cort shrugged. “They’ll take her away to their home across the sea and we will never hear from her again. More importantly, Trenton will never hear from her again. He will be free.”
Short of murdering the woman and throwing her body into a bog, Dane thought that was as good a plan as any, for certainly, something had to be done and it had to be done now. Too much was at stake to leave it to chance or to delay.
“I suppose that is as good a choice as any,” he said.
“Then we ride to Penleigh House tonight, under the full moon. We will sneak into the place, abduct Adela, and be on the road to Northwic before anyone is the wiser. It will take us at least four days to get there, though. Four days with a screaming captive.”
Cort didn’t think that was ideal, either, but there was little choice. “I will see if I can steal some poppy powder from Da,” he said. “The stuff makes him sleep. Mayhap I can get enough to keep the woman unconscious until we can get her to Northwic.”
Dane sighed heavily. “Oh, we can simply keep knocking her senseless every time she comes around,” he said, watching Cort grin. Reaching out, he grasped his brother by the arm. “Well, then? We’re in this together?”
Cort nodded firmly. “We are,” he said. “I need some adventure in my life, anyway. Training troops is boring me to tears.”
Dane couldn’t help but shake his head at the man. “This is not some grand adventure, Cort,” he said. “We are doing this for a reason. This is serious business.”
Cort never took anything too seriously. He flashed a dimpled grin at his brother to let him know that this was an adventure to him, like it or not.
“I’ll look at it my way and you look at it yours,” he said.
“In any case, we will have to make arrangements for the troops for the next few weeks. We’ll have to get men to cover our duties. ”
Dane glanced out over the troop grounds, full of men as dust flew up into the morning air.
“I will speak with the sergeants,” he said.
“I will not tell them where we are going, of course, but I will make sure they cover training until we return. Meanwhile, you go and pack everything we will need, including something to tie Adela up with. And get a sack for her head so no one can see her face when we transport her. We need to keep her covered up.”
Cort snorted. “I will find charcoal and draw a hideous face on the sack. We will tell everyone that is what she really looks like.”
Dane started to chuckle. “At least until we get to the slave market,” he said. “After that, we will have to let men see her face if we are going to sell her off.”
“What if she tells them that she has been abducted?”
Dane rolled his eyes. “Who are they going to believe? A hysterical female or two seasoned knights?”
Cort merely shrugged. They both knew the plan was risky at best, but for Trenton’s sake, they were willing to try.
Given the situation, and the misery of both Trenton and Gaston with the horror Adela had created, Dane was more than willing to risk whatever he had to in order to rid them of the Countess of Westbury once and for all.
Were the situation reversed, he knew that Trenton would do the same for him.
It was time to do what should have been done years ago. Dane and Cort were going to see to it that Adela of Brittany was never a thorn in a de Russe side ever again.
And no one would ever know the truth.
It was a cool evening after a warm summer’s day, and Trenton was standing out on the steps of Deverill’s massive keep, gazing up at the stars.
So many stars, he thought, wondering if Lysabel was looking up in the sky at that moment.
He wondered what she was doing and if Cynethryn and Brencis were back to riding their ponies.
Around him, the walls of Deverill were lit up with sentries bearing torches, and the grounds were patrolled by men with big dogs.
Everything was peaceful for the most part, but for Trenton, there was no peace.
He missed Lysabel dreadfully.
The evening meal had been a glorious affair of laughter and family warmth, and it had been a bright moment in an otherwise hellish day.
After what Dane had told him about his father, he kept looking at Gaston to see if he could spot any sign of the cancer the physics said he had, but all he could see was a tired older man.
Gaston was smiling, at times chiding Boden and Gage, who were combative with each other, but for the most part, he looked like the father he remembered.
He felt like the worst son in the world for staying away so long and for holding a grudge about Adela, about other things.
He wished he could take it all back.
At the meal, Gaston announced his plans to depart for Wellesbourne on the morrow.
No one really knew the circumstances for his trip, as Gaston had only confided them to Remington, but traveling to Wellesbourne was quite common for Gaston, so there were no questions as to why.
In fact, Boden and Gage insisted on going with him, and Gaston relented, mostly because it was easier to permit them rather than denying them.
The younger de Russe boys were known to do what they wanted and then beg forgiveness if their father became too terribly angry about it. The Dark One, such a strict and sometimes cruel trainer of men, didn’t seem to have the same standards when it came to his younger sons.
He took joy in every cheeky exploit.
With the trip set for the morrow, the meal lasted perhaps a little longer than usual, with Trenton sitting between Dane and his mother, Remington.
She seemed to be the only one not particularly pleased that Gaston was going to Wellesbourne, but she didn’t say so.
It was more in her expression than anything else.
She kept her mouth shut, watching her husband closely as the night progressed, and it was something that Trenton found his attention drawn to.
Remington had always been protective of Gaston, for as long as Trenton could remember.
A deeply caring woman, he could only imagine that her caring instincts were heightened now that Gaston’s health was deteriorating.
Trenton found that he couldn’t look at her too much because it only reminded him of his father’s failing health, so when Gaston finally excused himself for bed, Trenton left the table also and wandered out of the keep to lose himself in thoughts of the present, and of the future.
He simply couldn’t believe how his life had changed in a relatively short amount of time.
“I thought I would find you out here.”
Trenton turned to see his mother emerging from the keep, a smile on her lovely face.
He’d always thought she was just about the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and even in her advancing years, that hadn’t changed.
She was still lovely with her copper-colored curls, all wound up on top of her head, and her sea-colored eyes. He smiled weakly.
“It is cooler out here than in the hall,” he said. “That place is like an oven when the days are warm.”
Remington laughed softly. “It was made to keep us all warm when the weather is so cold,” she said. “The circulation is bad and in warmer weather, that means the hall becomes somewhat stifling.”
Trenton nodded in agreement as she came to the step next to him and looped her arm through his. He looked down at her as she gazed up at the night sky.
“It is good to be home,” he told her. “I have missed it.”
She smiled as she looked at him. “And we have missed you.”
He smiled back at her, turning away to look up at the stars again, unaware that she was still looking at him.
“You just missed Skye and Nicolas,” she continued. “They were here not long ago with some of their children. Did you now that they are now grandparents? Their eldest, Robert, has a son and he brought the infant along. Nicolas is so proud he could burst.”
Trenton thought on his father’s younger cousin, Nicolas, who was the brother to Patrick de Russe.
Nicolas had married Skye Halsey, Remington’s younger sister, many years ago.
He had always been a man of short temper, easily stirred, but he was a good knight.
He lived in London with his family and had become part of Henry’s diplomatic corps, oddly enough.
The young knight Trenton remembered, who was so easily riled, had grown up to become a rather great communicator and excellent diplomat. It was ironic.