Chapter Eight
The hour was late, but Devlin knew he would not sleep. He ordered Rosalind upstairs to bed. She seemed to have the strength to walk, but just barely. He watched her as she turned the corner, and he stayed in the great hall until he could no longer hear her footsteps on the stairs.
And then he paced. The tension built inside his body until he feared he would explode with the force of it.
Alden had not returned to the manor house since he had escorted that lout Kirkeby out, so Devlin headed out to the stable himself.
He secretly wished that Roland was still on the premises.
He could immediately handle this problem, and no one would ever know.
He rounded the corner into the barn. Alden perched on a crude bench against a stall door, and surprisingly, Ridley was there too. Ridley held his head in his hands, and despite the dim light from the single lantern hanging from an iron hook on the post, Devlin could see that Ridley was crying.
Poor kid. The events of the evening had certainly taken a toll on the young lad.
“Devlin, come sit.”
Alden’s tone indicated that there was more than met the eye. Devlin wondered what else could happen that night that would top what had already transpired.
“Sir Devlin,” Ridley began, “You need to know what I did.”
Devlin said nothing. It took a moment before Ridley could speak.
“There was a marriage contract,” Ridley stated.
His face paled considerably. “I took the contract from Lord Edmond. He told me to take it to Ned in the village, and Ned would see to it that it was delivered to the king. But I couldn’t, Sir Devlin.
I told Lord Edmond I had completed the task, but I took the contract and hid it.
I couldn’t let him give Lady Rosalind to that scoundrel. ”
Devlin was speechless. He reeled with the news and was glad he was sitting.
What the boy had done was incomprehensible to him. To disobey his lord, to interfere with kingdom business in this way would result in a severe flogging in the least and possibly even death if anyone ever found out.
Devlin grabbed Ridley by his skinny shoulders. “Ridley, listen to my questions and answer them truthfully.”
Ridley, with eyes open wide, nodded with sincerity.
“Did Ned know that Edmond was sending him a missive to deliver to court? Did he know of the betrothal promise between Edmond and Kirkeby?”
“I don’t believe he did. He wasn’t here when Roland won milady in the card game. And the old lord didn’t speak with him any time after that.”
Devlin exhaled audibly in relief.
“Do you have the message that Lord Edmond penned to the king? Do you still have the contract?”
“Yes, I do. It’s hidden where no one will ever find it.”
Devlin nodded. “And did anyone else in the household know of the contract or know that Edmond sent you to deliver a message to Ned for the king?”
Ridley thought for a moment. “No one else knew. Not Benton, not Marta, and milady didn’t know either. And I didn’t tell anyone.”
He had to consider all the possible ramifications of this bit of information for Ridley and Rosalind.
If no one else knew of Edmond’s intention to send the contract to the king that day, and if Edmond was dead, there would be no consequences.
Roland knew, of course, but it would be his word against Rosalind’s, and with no contract, he could not prove anything.
And Devlin was willing to take the chance that the king would not believe that Roland “won” her in a card game as payment for a gaming debt.
But if Edmond were alive, the consequences would be dire for Ridley, and Rosalind would most likely be married off to Roland as soon as he was found or returned.
“Ridley, you keep that message hidden, do you hear? Don’t tell anyone where it is. Not even me. Do you understand?”
Ridley nodded vigorously again.
“Now, I must talk with Alden. You get back to your bed. It’s too late for you to be up and about.”
Ridley turned to leave. But very quickly, he ran to each man, and hugged them both. After the quick gesture of thanks and affection, he hurried from the stable toward the manor house.
“I guess he thought you would punish him on the spot. Or worse, threaten to turn him in,” Alden said.
“Punish him? No. What he did was wrong and very dangerous. Surely, he couldn’t understand what would happen to him if his deceit was found out. He obviously loves her very much.”
“We already knew that Ridley had a hatred for Capell, and his love and devotion to Rosalind is unquestionable,” Alden added.
“And now we know how far he would go to keep her out of the clutches of Kirkeby and further out of any harm’s way.
Do you think the boy could have had a hand in Edmond’s disappearance? ”
Devlin nodded and considered the possibility. “All the evidence points to the bog. We know that Edmond, well at least his mount, was there. As far as we know, Edmond was, too. Weather permitting, we will return there in the morning. We’ll search again.”
The men gave the barn a final once over, checking to see that the horses were secure. Alden picked up the lantern, and they walked to the manor house in silence.
****
Devlin was awakened before dawn with the now familiar sounds of Ridley adding wood to his fire.
Never in his life had anyone ever worried about his comfort.
No one had ever cared whether he had woken up in a warm room on a cold morning before.
But here, in the midst of so much pain and hostility, this clan cared for each other and wanted to care for others as well.
Devlin didn’t know what to do with this unfamiliar feeling.
But no matter. Today, he and Alden would venture out once more.
There had to be something there. He threw back the covers and pushed himself out of his warm nest. He doused his face with water that was left in a pitcher by the fire.
She thought of everything. No cold water for washing in this house; the water was kept warm for his use.
As he left his bedchamber, he closed his door; Alden exited his room at the same time. His face, normally pleasant and smiling, was downcast. It appeared that neither man was looking forward to another trip to the bog.
Down in the great hall, Benton had just laid out the morning’s breakfast. Devlin wasn’t hungry, but he knew he should eat. He grabbed a bowl with porridge, some fresh bread, and a wedge of cheese. Alden joined him at the table, but they ate in silence.
Rosalind and the children were not seen before they left.
But that was understandable. The night before had been quite stressful, and no one retired until late.
Alden grabbed some bread and cheese to take with him.
At the stables, Ridley had each of their mounts saddled and ready.
Dim light filtered through the thick clouds, but the sun didn’t make an appearance.
The morning was damp and cold, but at least the winds died, and the snow and sleet stopped.
The men mounted their horses, and after only a few steps, Alden asked, “Do you really think Edmond is in the bog, Devlin?”
“All I know is that the only clue, the only real evidence we have leads there.”
“But why was he out here, in the middle of the night, no less? Think about it. He’s over an hour’s ride from his home, town is in the opposite direction, and none of his drinking or gaming cohorts live in this direction. There are only a few farmers’ and crofters’ cottages about.”
Devlin had not thought about Edmond’s motives.
Alden asked good questions. Why was he this far out, late at night?
It truly made no sense. But Devlin knew he had to find out.
As they entered the area containing the low-lying land, the forest landscape began to change.
Fewer trees grew, and the dark, rich soil of the forest floor, once solid beneath the horses’ hooves, softened and turned gray.
They had arrived.
Devlin surveyed the uneven border of the mire. They certainly had their work cut out for them.
“Let’s search in opposite directions around the wettest edge of the bog. Look for any sign of Edmond or the horse.”
Alden nodded, turned to his left, and methodically looked around the edges of the bog. Devlin began his own search, working in the opposite direction of his friend.
The cold quiet of the marsh was interrupted by the occasional caw of a crow in the distance, and it wasn’t long before the men met back where they had started and had nothing to show for their hunt.
“What now?”
Devlin let out a deep sigh, “Now I go in.”
Alden shook his head, but he understood that it had to be done. Devlin removed his cloak and he took a moment until he found a sturdy branch that matched his height.
Devlin moved side to side across the watery bog, and when he could no longer see the bottom under the murky water, he used his stick to poke down to the depths.
The water was icy cold, and when the first tiny hints of the frigid liquid leaked over the top of his boots and down his calves, he clenched his jaw. But he refused to give up.
At first, the bog didn’t seem deep enough to conceal the body of a man, but as he moved to the center, its depth increased.
Devlin continued to step and poke, step and poke.
Every so often, his boot would stick in the mud, and he would have to reach into the filthy pool and use his hands to free his foot.
Alden stood by, ready to assist if necessary.
And then, when he was ready to give up, his stick hit something. He moved the stick and poked and prodded. “Alden! Toss me the rope from my saddle,” he commanded.
Alden threw him the length of rope, and he fashioned a quick loop.
“Devlin, are you sure?” Alden asked.
Devlin nodded, and then he did what he had been dreading most. He took two deep breaths and dove under the water. He kept his eyes closed and relied on his hands to explore what he had found. It didn’t take long before he knew.
It was a body.