Page 52 of The Herald's Heart
Bells rang in the distance.
“But after prayers,” she continued. She put her shovel down and rose to her feet. Without a word, she turned her back and marched down the path toward the abbey chapel.
He stared after her. The bells had rung sext. She would be at her prayers for some time. He finished hoeing the row of plants he’d started working on, then picked up both hoe and shovel. He deposited the tools in a cart that sat next to the garden wall and followed the path around the abbey buildings to the door in the main gate. He let himself out, checked on his horse, and sat in the shade of a nearby oak to wait.
• • •
Larkin paced the length of the solar. Worried about her fate and so furious with Talon, she hadn’t slept or eaten.
Talon believed her a liar and a murderess. He’d taken the fragile trust they shared and ground it beneath his righteous boot heel. He deserved nothing from her, but she needed him for as long as it took to find the marriage box. That alone would keep her captive to his distrust.
She stopped by the window and stood looking out at the bailey and the village beyond. The courtyard and the lane through the town lay deserted, as soulless as on those nights when she’d crept about the keep in search of the proof she was Lady Rosham. Everyone must be at midday meals. Would she be fed? If someone entered, could she find the means to escape?
She hurried to the door. The guards on the other side spoke of wanting their meal. Then she heard the footsteps of more than one man fading away. She looked about the chamber. Irons for stirring the fire lay next to the braiser. She dragged the stool from next to the bed into place beside the door. Then she took a fire iron and climbed up on the stool. She would have one chance and one chance only.
Soon the footsteps returned, but only those of one man. A key rattled in the door. Larkin raised the fire iron above her and brought the metal rod down upon the head of the man who stepped into the room.
His body slumped, and the tray he carried crashed to the floor.
“Oh dear.” Was she now a murderess in truth?
Cleve lay crumpled just inside the doorway. Larkin hopped off the stool to see that he still breathed, then tugged at his feet and legs to clear the doorway. She found his key ring, stepped through to the hall, and locked the door behind her. Pray heaven one of the other keys unlocked the new door Talon had installed within the secret passage.
She added a prayer that no one would see her from below, then scurried across the top of the main stair to the entrance of the secret passage. She worked the mechanism, grabbed a torch from a nearby sconce, and entered. Not until she closed the entrance and descended the steps toward the outer cave did she dare to stop. She took great gulping breaths of air and became aware that she was trembling. ’Twas the remnants of fear. Thank the Madonna she hadn’t spent time thinking about her actions before carrying them out or she never would have been able to hit Cleve.
The torch flickered in the stuffy air of the closed tunnel. She could not count on Cleve remaining undiscovered for very long. Talon could return at any moment, and he would know where she’d gone. She walked as quickly down the rough passage as the dim light would allow. She passed three openings where various small caves intersected the hewn stone. She’d never had the opportunity to explore them as she wished; she could not pause to do so now. She had to leave, but only so she could someday return and finish the task of finding the marriage box.
The scatter of stones along the floor sounded behind her. Had someone followed so soon? She sped onward. Once outside, she could hide among the rocks or in one of the other caves, as long as the tide did not rise too high.
She looked to where the tunnel rose then bent before plunging to the sea. Before the new door was installed, light from the shore would be visible around that bend. She would have to try the keys in the dark, for once she let go of the torch, it would go out quickly.
She turned the corner, set the torch on the floor, and, in rapid succession, tried one key after another. The torch flame was lasting longer than she’d expected. She had only two keys left. Then there were none.
Nay. She could not come this far and meet with failure. Though she knew better, she began to try each key again. The flame began to die. She did not want to be left here in the dark, forced to stumble her way back to her prison. If she must return, she would walk, head high and able to see where she stepped.
She reached for the torch at the same time that light pooled around her. Talon stood before her, with four guards at his back.
• • •
From within the window embrasure, she watched him dismiss the guards. He stalked to the chair near the braiser and sat, slapping his gloves against his thigh.
He pierced her with a glare. “You hurt Cleve.”
Larkin swallowed. “I am sorry for that.”
He grunted and jerked his head away, as if he could not stand the sight of her.
“Why did you run?”
He knew precisely why she fled, but she would play his game for now. “Why should I wait here for you to hang me?”
“And you think I would hang you because ...?”
How stupid did he think she was? “You have to ask? To listen to you and Father Timoras, no one but myself could have murdered the earl.”
“That is not true.”
She wished he would leave her alone. “Then why did you imprison me here?”
