Chapter Twenty - One
Crossing the snow-covered bailey, excitement left Gillian's knees trembling. All too quickly, though, her hopes were dashed by the pronouncement 'twas just a messenger. Yet another with likely the same message.
There had been several messages from Royce so far, each one delaying his return for varying lengths of time.
He'd been gone nigh on three months now.
Winter had settled in, and the nights seemed to drag on forever.
The way her body ached for his touch left her unable to sleep as she needed.
Saddening her even more was the realization she'd been away from her husband for most of their marriage.
When Royce returned, he'd find a big surprise.
Each week, Gillian's belly grew larger as the babe within grew.
All at Lyndon now knew. She'd refrained from mentioning her condition in her return letters, fearing if she told him, he would return posthaste.
While she wanted that more than anything else, she feared what it might do to his reputation and relationship with the king.
He'd advised that Edward demanded his aid in resolving a bitter dispute between two rival barons.
There had been much blood shed on both sides, and no resolution appeared near.
Gillian wondered if her husband would arrive before the babe.
The gates opened and the rider came to a halt in the inner bailey. He dismounted and handed the sealed parchment to Gillian. She quickly opened the message, scanning it for good news. As usual, her mood soured upon reading her husband's words.
"He is delayed again. He says another fortnight at most. 'Tis less time than the last messages."
She slapped the parchment against Simon's chest, her gaze focused on the disheveled rider before her. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but she didn't know why.
"Come inside and warm yourself by the fire. I will have more questions."
She didn't wait for them to follow her into the keep.
The hall was mostly quiet now. Where had Burke disappeared to?
She wanted an update on the reinforcements near the old kitchens she tasked him to oversee.
Lately, he'd been difficult to locate, always seeming to be out on some errand or another.
Though Simon had followed him several times, as yet, Burke had done nothing to indicate he possessed nefarious plans.
"I've had a maid bring the messenger a meal."
She looked at Simon. "Good. Join me while I question him."
She strode over to the table by the wall and took her seat at the head. Leaning forward, she studied the man. Where did she know him from?
"Did I meet you at Shrewsbury?" she asked.
The man shook his head and took a long drink of ale from the tankard before him. "Nay, I have been in London since the summer."
"I have the strangest feeling I know you, but I can't think of how. For now, tell me how my husband fares."
"He is well. He is quite busy with the king."
"Yes, his message told me the politics are taking longer to resolve than he'd hoped. But what else can you tell me?"
"He can tell you nothing."
Gillian looked over to where Burke entered the hall, surrounded by several soldiers. She didn't recognize them from Lyndon's garrison, or her husband's army. And beside him...
Rage turned her vision red and she stood. "You've found her!"
She glared at the woman her father had married. Anne looked well, her belly large with the child she carried. Where had she found such a fine gown?
Burke gave a strange smile. "Yes, I have. But then, I've known where she was the entire time."
Gillian's eyes narrowed as confusion took hold. Aware of Simon rising behind her, she straightened her spine. "What are you talking about? All this time, you've known where this murderer has been hiding and you never told us? Or Royce?"
Her voice rose on each word until she shouted. She pulled her dagger from her belt and strode toward Anne, noticing for the first time the way Burke held the woman's hand. Realization and shock halted her mid-stride.
"Explain yourself."
Burke chuckled, but the loathing in his eyes belied the sentiment. "You are a fool, as is your husband, and most of all the king. All these years, I've been biding my time, with help from my lovely baroness."
He lifted Anne's hand and placed a kiss on the back. Gillian fought the urge to vomit.
"You vile bastard! How could you betray him? He gave you everything you have; Edward is granting you a manor of your own."
Burke sauntered toward her and she tightened the grip on her dagger. Behind her, the sound of Simon's sword unsheathing grated on her ears. Her heart raced. She'd been right, but how she wished she was wrong.
"Yes, surveying those lands made it very easy for me to plan. Perhaps you are unaware I was banished as a child, when the old king stripped my father of his lands and had him executed. Banished me and my mother. So I returned to her family. In Wales."
Even as the thought formed, Gillian tried to deny it. "You're Godwin."
"And you are very smart. My lady." He sneered with the last words.
She lunged with the dagger, but Burke easily evaded the move. He reached for her, but Simon's sword at his throat stopped him.
"My men will kill you and the countess if you so much as nick me."
Simon looked around as the men gathered close, swords and knives at the ready. He caught Gillian's eye. She could barely breathe, but gave Simon a nod. He lowered his sword.
"Take him below," Burke ordered.
Two of the men grabbed for Simon. Gillian jumped in front of him.
"Nay! Leave him be!"
"I want him locked away. My loyal clansmen have already taken control of the garrison. He is the last."
Burke grabbed her arm, pulling her from her brother and yanking her dagger away.
She screamed and fought against the traitor's hold, but Simon was dragged away to the chambers below.
Finally with a mighty pull, she yanked free of Burke.
She turned to face Anne. Wasting no time, she strode over and slapped the woman.
Anne screeched in rage, moving to return the blow, but Gillian stepped free of her reach. "You bitch! I've longed for this day. And while I can't kill you now, rest assured, your day soon approaches."
"Murderer! You will pay." She spun about. "All of you will pay! When my husband learns of this."
"Your husband won't be returning."
She froze, leveling a terrified stare on Burke. "What have you done? If you've harmed him in any way, I will see you hanged!"
"For now, he lives. But when he attempts to return here..."
The unspoken threat lingered in the air. She looked around at the men surrounding her. Welsh rebels, every one of them. As was the messenger. But if Royce hadn't sent the letters who had?
"You sent these false messages!"
"Aye, as I've sent false messages to your husband. He is involved with political strife, but your responses are keeping him away longer. He has no idea how very much you miss him, especially during the cold lonely nights."
Flames scorched her face to hear her words tossed back at her. Royce had never received those missives, didn't know how she longed for him.
"He thinks you are content without him. He is in no rush."
She shook her head. "Nay, he won't believe that."
Burke shrugged. "Doesn't matter. He won't be returning to Lyndon, ever."
He reached for Anne, and Gillian forced her shaking legs to hold her up while the two watched her in contempt. She refused to cower before them, and swore she would have her revenge.
"Lock her in her chamber."
Before Burke finished issuing the order, two men had hold of Gillian's arms and dragged her up the stairs. She fought against them, but soon found herself in her chamber, the door closed and barred from the outside.
She pounded on the wood until her fists ached, her voice hoarse from screaming. There was no secret door in this chamber, she was truly trapped. She paced, her anger giving her strength. A strong kick drew her attention to the babe. She covered her belly.
"We'll find a way out of here, little one, I promise." If only she had some way to get a message to Royce. Where was Edith? Burke likely had her locked away as well.
Much as she wanted Royce to return to Lyndon, she wanted him to stay away until she had figured a way to warn him of the threat.
She finally collapsed on the bed. At the moment, she could do nothing.
***
Royce stood in the bailey of the White Tower with Edward, waiting for Viking to be brought from the stables. He didn't like the feeling that had accompanied his wife's latest letter. Something had seemed different than the last messages.
"Have you given more thought to what might be amiss?" Edward asked.
"The Welsh are involved somehow, I'm sure of that. But both Burke's and Gillian's missives indicate all is well."
He didn't want to admit it stung that she seemed content without him all these months. He'd been miserable without her. He'd almost sent for her many times, but had refrained.
"I've sent word to have additional men from Montchester meet me on the way to Lyndon. And I thank you, Sire, for providing me with some of your troops as well."
"Finish them, Panther. I am weary of these constant uprisings."
"As am I."
His horse was brought before him and he mounted.
With a nod to Edward, he wheeled Viking out of the bailey, followed by the king's men.
As the sun rose over the land, his unease over the odd undertones in the messages grew.
No matter how he tried, he could not reach a suitable conclusion to the dilemma.
The long hours of riding stretched ahead of him.
Surely he'd come to a resolution before he reached Lyndon.