Chapter 13
“Lanval,” said the Earl of Ravensworth, “have you ever known such cordiality as Stanbury showed us today?” The two made their way to the entrance of the manor, where the company were assembling for their departure.
The banquet following the endless betrothal ceremony had surprised everyone, most especially the Ravensworth contingent.
A better repast, better wine. Their host had been almost convivial. For some reason, Stanbury had set aside his resentments and the unpleasantness of the past several weeks to make his new son-in-law welcome.
“No, indeed,” replied Lanval, and the companions chuckled. “But perhaps they were trying to impress my lord Warwick.”
“Perhaps,” said the earl cynically. “I presume Warwick has gone on ahead, then?”
“He has, my lord,” said Lanval. “He will meet us at Landon on the morrow.”
“Excellent. It should be a fine hunt.” Edward’s foul mood of the morning had given way to one of good cheer.
Perhaps it was because he had taken a significant step toward securing what he wanted. And what he wanted was Lily. Lily free from her family’s petty nastiness and manipulations.
In his opinion, her family treated her in a way that bordered on cruelty.
They tried to diminish her, make her into a dowdy afterthought, punish her for the beauty she had, and they did not.
Neither inside nor out. They lacked compassion, among other things.
He knew people like that. Indeed, he did.
It enraged him to see the extent of her so-called finery. The withered portion of her dowry read aloud so that she could stew publicly in the poverty of it.
Hellfire! he had wanted to smash his fist through Stanbury’s face, not to mention the redoubtable bishop’s.
It didn’t matter, he told himself. She would not be under their dominion much longer. A few small hurdles remained, and she would be his, he told himself. He had the confidence of a man who knew precisely what he wanted—and had devised the perfect plan to obtain it.
“What say you, Mathew,” said Edward, “are your misgivings put to rest?” Of all his knights, Mathew had the ability to determine moods better than the rest. “How do you read the largesse we just received?”
“They were well pleased about something,” said Mathew.
“Aye, they were,” said the earl sardonically, “And I smell rat. They are scheming, but I have no intention of being caught in their trap whatever it may be.” He smiled grimly. No indeed.
For the present, his one aim was to remove himself from Keelington Court by the fastest, most expedient route. He trusted Stanbury and his sons not one bit.
The moment Lily had excused herself and retired to her chamber, Edward and his escort had taken their leave. The Earl of Warwick had departed even earlier.
Lily had looked exhausted, as if the pillars that held up her beauty and her wit had been suddenly splintered by a blunt hatchet. He knew he was responsible for some of that, and it irked him not to be able to hold her and comfort her.
There wasn’t much chance that she would have welcomed his attention, not yet, he knew. Not so soon after the aborted interlude of the morning. He regretted having begun it, but not how she’d felt in his arms. No, her allure enchanted him even now, but he had no wish to exacerbate her distress.
His parting words were to assure her he would return to escort her to Ravensworth himself for the wedding. They had agreed, tentatively at least, on a compromise. Lily wanted ten months. Edward suggested three weeks. They compromised on four months. They would wed in August on Lammas Day.
He would, he told himself, manage the time. The ride to Landon represented the first rung of the ladder.
He and his guard made their way to the courtyard where their mounts and grooms waited for them.
Assembled there were his mounted men, their helms resting on their saddlebows in readiness for departure.
Their banners and pennons, emblazoned with a black raven, chuckled in the light wind. Harness jingled. Horses stamped.
“What of you, Dunstan? Any thoughts?”
“Considering all the hostility you’ve enjoyed up to now, my lord, I can only think the back-slapping cheer your new father-in-law showed you this day is portentous,” said Dunstan.
“An epiphany, do you think?” quipped Edward, drawing a general chuckle.
“’Twas well done. I almost wanted to remain,” said Dunstan.
“You wanted to remain for quite another reason, Dunstan,” said Lanval, “one with come-hither eyes and shapes large enough to compete with brown-eyed Alma.”
“What about old-fashioned greed?” said Dunstan, ignoring his captain.
“I thought I saw him drool. Old Renard laid out every juicy morsel of the fortune you pledged to her like the master of temptation himself,” said Lanval.
“Do not forget the sons,” added Mathew.
“Whatever it is, you can be certain, they think to get access through their sister. They will move heaven and earth to control her. Hopefully, this disclosure will provoke some action,” said Edward.
“Yes, they’ll be even more eager to kill you. You will have to go about the business of begetting heirs quickly, my lord,” said Lanval. “Just to be on the safe side.”
“Thank you, Lanval, I would not have thought of that,” said Edward, his voice laced with sarcasm.
He took his helm from Diggens and mounted the restive stallion caparisoned in the Ravensworth colors. “It’s to be hoped that greed forces them to declare themselves openly,” he added. “As I’ve said, I grow tired of their games.”
“If the scouts have it right, you won’t have long to wait, my lord,” said Dunstan.
Edward grunted. “Just so. I should be interested to see how they go about their business, what kind of event they have planned.”
“An event,” said Dunstan with a playful grin. “Do you mean like a fair?” and he mounted up along with the others.
“No, no, a joust, I say it will be,” said Mathew.
“I do hope there are mummers. No festive event could succeed without mummers, surely?”
“I rather suspect abduction,” said Edward.
Diggens, who had placed his courser behind Edward’s mount, frowned at them all. “This is no laughing matter, m’lords. It is a scheme—a malodorous plot and Lady Lily could be in real danger.”
Edward shot his squire an amused look and turned to his second.
“I assume, Lanval, that you have anticipated their…” he waved his hand in the air, groping for just the right phrase, “whatever it is they’re plotting?
You’ve made suitable arrangements?” He coughed politely.
“Diggens, here, seems to need some tender reassurance.”
“I have indeed, my lord. Diggens can be at ease.”
“Good,” said Edward. “And I am guessing you have arranged an escape for young Percy as well, so he can lead the way for us?”
“It may have happened already. He is being transferred to London, even as we speak. His cart will meet with an accident and give him the perfect opportunity to escape. We’re confident he will make a dash for Glendower,” said Lanval, “but we intend to make it difficult for him. He will be boxed in and forced to seek out his local Chester contacts.”
Edward raised his hand high in the air. “That,” he enunciated carefully, “is my most fervent wish and expectation.” Tall in the saddle, puissant, his comely face alive with confidence, he brought his arm down in a sweeping arc.
The entire body of mounted men began to move.