Chapter Seventeen
“Marian?” Millicent said. “Do you have a plan once you reach Ravenscar?”
The mist was heavy as Lady de Wolfe’s party plodded along towards the coastal manse of Ravenscar.
The salt in the air was so heavy that it was coating everything with a damp, gritty crust. Marian and Millicent were riding at the front of the escort with Marian’s brutish ladies several feet behind them and Gaspard several yards ahead, scouting for any threat in the mist.
He couldn’t hear the conversation going on behind him.
“Of course I have a plan,” Marian said. “I intend to find my errant husband and punish him. And then I intend to find Lady de Brito and punish her as well. She’ll not get away with this and neither will he.”
Millicent was asking for a purpose. Back in London, they’d touched on the subject of killing Ronan.
Millicent had been positive she was serious at the time, or trying to cover up her ultimate goal, but having heard Marian and Gaspard’s plans for Ronan yet again, she knew Marian to be quite serious about it now.
She wanted Ronan dead.
Millicent had known Marian all her life and she’d never been afraid of her until this moment.
She knew her cousin to be shallow and immoral, but now the woman was intending to add murder to that collection of sins.
That was something she’d never done before.
Millicent was genuinely concerned that she might be included in those murder plans because she and Marian had discussed killing Ronan, once, so the truth was that she’d come north for a very good reason.
To save her own life by warning Ronan.
That was the one and only reason she’d come.
If she hadn’t, and Marian was successful in her scheme, it was quite possible that her own life would be in jeopardy for what she may or may not know.
With Marian, it was difficult to anticipate which direction she would take, but she knew that above all Marian was a survivor. She’d been proving that all her life.
Therefore, Millicent proceeded carefully.
She had to get to Ronan before Marian did.
“I would recommend caution,” she said after a moment. “Remember that you are acting on hearsay. Those who sent you the missive could very well be mistaken.”
Marian looked at her cousin incredulously. “Do you take his side, then?”
Millicent shook her head. “I am not taking any sides, as I have assured you repeatedly during this entire journey,” she said. “We have discussed this situation multiple times, have we not?”
“We have.”
“I have only ever tried to advise you to be cautious,” Millicent said. “You do not want to stir up a hornet’s nest unless you have good reason.”
Marian shot her a withering look. “I have good reason,” she said. “He is betraying me!”
Millicent sighed faintly. Marian didn’t have a reasonable bone in her body and all the admonition in the world wasn’t going to force her to take a calmer approach to the situation.
This entire trip north had proven that. Now, they were nearly at their destination, so Millicent knew it was time to shut her mouth lest Marian become suspicious of her true motives.
“I’ve come to support you, whatever you choose,” she lied. “Would you like me to speak to Ronan first? He and I have always gotten on well enough. Mayhap I could send a repentant man to you.”
Marian actually pondered the suggestion. “Nay,” she finally said. “I will tell him myself. I want to see his face when I tell him what I know. I want to see him cower.”
Millicent was fairly certain Ronan de Wolfe would never cower, but she didn’t say anything to that regard. She remained neutral. “What would you have me do?” she asked.
Marian shook her head. “For now, do nothing,” she said. Then she looked down at herself. “How do I look? Can you see my belly?”
Millicent looked at her cousin. Astride her palfrey, she was dressed in many different silk layers, bound up under the breast and all of them covering her bulging belly.
She didn’t want her husband to see that she was pregnant, knowing it was not his, since she had come to scold him for his infidelities.
Somehow, a pregnant belly would make her position far less effective when she was trying very hard to gain the upper hand.
Millicent was quite aware of this.
“Nay,” she lied again. “One cannot tell for certain but be cautious. Make sure the fabric flows loosely around your middle.”
Marian pulled at it to ensure it was loosely draped, as Millicent suggested.
The conversation died at that point because, truthfully, there was nothing more to say.
They’d both made their positions clear from the beginning of the receipt of the missive in London to this very moment, so all there was to do now was confront Ronan and let the situation play out as it should.
That time would come, soon enough.
*
This mist had lifted by the time Marian and Millicent reached Ravenscar.
Marian was ready. She thought she would be charging into a peaceful courtyard only to stir it up with her particular brand of mayhem, but as she rode into the ward after yelling at the gatehouse sentries to admit her, an entire de Wolfe escort was laid out before her.
Clearly, some de Wolfe uncle or relative had come to Ravenscar but as Marian looked more closely at the standards on the horses, she could see that the usual green and black de Wolfe standard was outlined with red.
That meant Roxburgh.
Her ladies were right behind her as she rode in, including Millicent, but truth be told, Marian was the slightest bit confused at Blayth de Wolfe being at Ravenscar.
He was Roxburgh and the red-lined colors were only used when he was in transit or when Ronan was in transit, and since Ronan was already at Ravenscar, that could only mean one thing – Blayth had arrived.
That forced Marian to regroup a little. She was, if nothing else, a fast thinker.
Dismounting her palfrey with the help of The Bull, she ordered her women into the hall to locate Ronan and announce her arrival but they were called off by Millicent.
She volunteered to do it herself in spite of the fact that Marian told her not to, but she darted off before Marian could stop her, so Marian’s women simply clustered at the front of the escort in a confused little bunch while Marian herself walked back through the troop to where Gaspard was positioned.
He was to the rear now, trying to stay inconspicuous, but he dismounted when he saw Marian approach.
He met her halfway.
“My lady?” he asked, gesturing to the escort. “Who is here?”
“Roxburgh,” Marian muttered, eyeing their surroundings to ensure she wasn’t being overheard. “Millie has gone inside to summon Ronan. Blayth de Wolfe is here, somewhere. But I am glad he is here.”
“Why?”
Her eyes glittered. “So I do not have to tell him of his son’s death,” she said frankly. “He will be here to know of it firsthand.”
Gaspard was trying not to appear the slightest bit nervous with the fact that the legendary knight known as Blayth de Wolfe was at Ravenscar. “Roxburgh,” he mumbled. “The man is a fearsome warrior. Our plans to be rid of your husband may not be so simple with him about. He could prevent it.”
Marian knew that but she wasn’t going to back out now.
“He will not have the chance,” she said quietly.
“This evening when it grows dark and before sup, I will lure Ronan out to the battlements against the sea. Be on those battlements, do you understand? I will tell him I wish to speak with him privately so we will be away from any sentries.”
“But what of his father?”
“He will not be on the battlements, you fool,” she snapped. “Stop being so cowardly. This was your idea!”
Gaspard held up a hand to quiet her. “Ease yourself, ma douce,” he said softly, glancing around to make sure no one had heard her. “I will be waiting on the battlements tonight before sup. I will not fail.”
She eyed him. “You’d better not,” she said. “You will only have one chance, so do not ruin it.”
With that, she turned her back on him, heading towards the great hall while the men of Ravenscar tried to figure out where to settle Lady de Wolfe’s escort. The small courtyard of the manse was already full.
Logistics, however, didn’t concern Marian.
She was only concerned with finding her husband when she caught sight of Lady de Brito and her majordomo heading towards the hall also.
When the majordomo suddenly rushed in another direction, that left Lady de Brito alone.
The sight of a solitary woman fed Marian’s bravery and she practically ran in the woman’s direction.
As she drew closer, she could see the woman’s large belly and she shouted, catching Isabeth’s startled attention.
“It is true!” she cried, pointing to Isabeth. “You are with child! My husband’s child! How can you be so shameless flaunting yourself about for all to see?”
Caught off-guard, Isabeth could hardly believe what she was seeing.
Marian was rushing towards her, shouting and pointing fingers, and Isabeth quickly moved away from the woman, fearful that she would attack her.
She had no idea what Marian was doing here but, already, she could feel the anxiety and trepidation that she associated with Ronan’s shrew of a wife.
It was all quite shocking on this cold morning.
But as she moved away and Marian ran forward, Isabeth noticed something else – she could clearly see that Marian was pregnant, too.
Wildly confused, she continued to back away.
“You are spouting like a madwoman,” she said. “What do you mean by saying such things to me? And what are you doing here? You were sent away and told not to return.”