Chapter 11 #2
“Aye, I heard David and Hepbourn speak of him when I caught them meeting in the woods. That was the truth I was trying to deny. Weel, there is no denying it now. Morainn had a vision. In it the mon who leads all these fools is one of mine, she said, one of my blood. She said he had a lot of blood on his hands, including mine. Kenning that she saw that then made it impossible to ignore what I heard David and Hepbourn say. My brother Henry, the laird of Lochancorrie, is the one leading the plot to kill the king and take the throne. He will be here in three days.”
“He put those scars on your back, didnae he?”
“Aye. Ye asked how I got them and I have done my best to avoid telling the tale for ‘tis of a young mon’s folly.” He took her by the hand, sat in his chair and tugged her down onto his lap. “I suspicion ye have heard a few of those.”
“Aye, but they didnae usually end with the laddie being scarred for life.”
“Nay, but few deal with my brother Henry and walk away whole. And that is if they are fortunate to walk away at all.” He took a deep breath and told her about Mary.
Ilsabeth listened and heard things Simon did not say.
A lonely young man with a strong sense of justice, a natural born protector, seduced and used by his brother and his brother’s wife.
Mary had known just how to pull Simon into her net.
The woman may not have known it when she started the evil game but she had seen into the heart of the young Simon very quickly.
As for Simon’s brother Henry, Ilsabeth had no words. She pressed closer to Simon and absently patted his chest as she thought of the man who now plotted to be made king. That Simon had emerged from that family with so much honor in him was a miracle and a testament to the strength of his soul.
Simon waited for Ilsabeth to comment on the sordid tale he had just told her, but she remained curled up tightly against him, patting his chest. He did not get the sense that she was outraged over his affair with the woman who had married his brother and laird.
In truth, he was more concerned that she saw him as a fool.
Then he smiled as he glanced down at the small hand still patting his chest. She was soothing him, he thought, and smiled.
It was at that moment that he realized his anger had eased. It was still there but now it was controllable. He knew he had a right to be so furious but it had troubled him that he could not stop himself from aiming it mindlessly at anyone who crossed his path.
“Ilsabeth, ye can cease petting me,” he said. “I am saner now.”
Ilsabeth peered up at him and knew he was telling the truth. His eyes did not hold the turmoil they had before. He even smiled a little as he put his hand over hers and stopped her stroking of his chest.
“Ye are verra quiet,” he said. “Have ye been shocked speechless then?”
“I was just wondering if there was a good way, one that isnae too offensive, to tell ye that someone should have strangled your brother Henry at birth.”
Simon laughed and hugged her. “The truth is always the best and, aye, someone should have put an end to him a long time ago. Many lives would have been saved.” He kissed the top of her head and frowned.
“ ‘Tis odd, but Henry has always had an unerring sense of who just might be thinking of doing exactly that.”
“And so he killed them first.”
“Aye. Morainn was right in saying he has a lot of blood on his hands. The mon kills on a whim, for the smallest of reasons. At times I would get the feeling that he sometimes killed because he enjoyed it. As with my poor dog.”
She sat up and looked at him. “What dog?”
“When I was home for Michaelmas at the age of ten, I found a ragged wee dog and took it in. I planned to take it back to where I was being fostered. Henry killed it and tossed its gutted body on top of me as I was sleeping. Henry was always cruel, e’en as a boy.”
“Simon, that was far more than cruelty.” Just the thought of that poor young boy waking to find his dog’s bleeding corpse on top of him made her want to retch. “There is something verra wrong with that mon. I thank God ye got away from him and stayed away.”
“As did all three of my brothers. They were fostered out just before my father died.”
“Also a good thing. If ye and they hadnae gotten away, I suspect all of ye would have joined your father in the ground. Nay, Simon, I think ye have seen enough of the ills of the world, of the horrors one person can inflict on others, to ken that Henry is mad.”
Simon grimaced. “I think he might be, that he was born twisted in some way. Yet, he doesnae rant or rave. He is cold and calm, has a sharp wit and is a verra good soldier if ye dinnae mind how many dead cover the field.”
“Madmen dinnae have to dance about and froth at the mouth. They can be verra calm and cold. The madness is there, however. ‘Tis seen in how they treat people. Aye, and how they treat animals. Treat anyone they think is weaker than they are. Can ye stop him from trying to steal the throne?”
“Aye. And ye are right. Henry is mad. He always has been. I always had the feeling that he killed our father simply because he believed it was his turn to be laird and so the old mon had to go. I should have gone and taken care of him, ended his brutal reign a long time ago.”
Ilsabeth kissed him. “Dinnae try to weight yourself down with a guilt ye dinnae deserve. He was the laird by birth so ye couldnae change that. And ye were naught but a boy when ye left. Ye were nay skilled or strong enough to deal Henry the justice he deserved.”
“But, I have been big and strong for a few years now,” he drawled.
“Which may be why ye havenae been able to prove Henry has killed anyone since that day ye got big enough to beat him.” She felt him tense and nodded.
“I think he has been watching ye. He may e’en be one of the reasons I was pulled into this.
Ye can be certain that Mary told him how she slipped beneath that honor of yours, the one that should have kept ye from touching another mon’s wife. ”
“So he heard Walter had a bonnie wee neighbor and decided she was the way to get me distracted.” He cursed. “Put an innocent in danger and Simon will mount his great white steed and do all he can to save her.”
“No need to sound so disgusted. I think that sounds verra nice and have been grateful for that knight.”
“It isnae just ye who have been used, is it? I have been as weel.”
“But he wasnae quite so clever this time, was he?”
“Nay? Ye are running for your life, hiding here, and I am doing little more than running about in circles.”
“Simon, the very reason he would toss a lass in danger into your path is the reason he has made a verra serious mistake. Aye, ye are running about trying to get the proof needed to have me declared innocent, but what is needed for that is also what is needed to prove Henry and the others are guilty. Now, Henry might be thinking to get ye out of his way ere that happens,” she muttered as she began to think it through, not liking the possibilities that were coming to mind.
“Enough, Ilsabeth,” Simon said, and kissed her.
“The moment I realized he was part of that I understood that I was in danger. For some reason Henry hates me more than he did any of our other siblings. I dinnae think that has changed. And, who kens better than I how dangerous the mon is. I will be watching my back verra closely.”
“Mayhap ye should keep a few of your men at your side from now on,” she said.
Simon laughed and stood up with her in his arms. “Now it appears it is I who must do a little soothing and petting. Ye are becoming unnecessarily concerned.”
“I dinnae think anyone could be unnecessarily concerned about a mon like Henry,” she said as he walked out of the room and headed up the stairs to their bedchamber.
“Nay, true enough.” He lightly tossed her onto the bed and then began to undress. “If he had used his wits and strength to do good things, he could have become a great mon, weel honored and weel liked.”
Trying not to get too distracted by Simon’s fine strong body, Ilsabeth nodded. “He prefers to be feared.”
The way Simon stared so intently at her as he tossed aside the last of his clothes and climbed into bed began to make Ilsabeth nervous. “What are ye looking at?” She rubbed her nose. “Do I have a smudge?”
“Nay, and even if ye did ye would still be the most beautiful lass I have e’er seen. Ye have a way of seeing things that can be helpful in searching for the truth.” He grabbed her around the waist, rolled onto his back and set her on top of him. “Ye can see into the heart of a mon.”
“I am nay sure I want to see into the heart of a mon like Henry.”
“Nay, but ye can take the fact that he has a verra black heart and then see how someone like him might do things. ‘Tis a verra useful thing.”
Before she could thank him for the compliment and suggest that he allow her to help search out the truth about Henry and his plots against the king, he kissed her.
Ilsabeth knew she was being diverted, but decided not to complain.
The moment he ended the kiss, she sat up straight and slowly removed her nightdress.
Simon’s gray eyes went so dark they were nearly black and she could almost feel the heat of his desire when he looked at her.
“Ye are so beautiful, wee Ilsabeth.” He stroked his hands up her stomach to cover her breasts. “So soft.” He sat up and licked the taut end of her breast.
Ilsabeth lost all concern for the plots and evil of others.
Such dark things did not exist when she was in Simon’s arms and he was warming her whole body with his passion.
Before she lost all of her wits, however, she intended to pay Simon back for something, and pay it back in kind.
She pushed him onto his back and, before he could grab her again, she began to kiss her way down his long, lean body.