Page 96 of Her Dark Seduction
“Did he know of de Tourrard’s plot?”
“He suspected it,” Oliver said. “He never trusted de Tourrard’s betrayal of Lord Mortlock, believing it a ploy to divert the king’s attention; and he was proven right. He masterminded the siege at Shoreton. Henry’s enemies will be reluctant to conspire against him now. De Beauvane’s reputation for destroying traitors is unmatched.”
“If he’s a destroyer of traitors what does he want with me?”
Before Oliver could reply, de Beauvane cut him short.
“Woman, you will hear nothing until we reach our destination,” he barked. “Do as you are bid and be silent.”
“Why?” I asked. “I know nothing of you. You have deferred my death but will life in your custody be any better?”
“I would ask you to trust me.” The anger in his voice had lessened but still he spoke gruffly.
“How can I—a condemned traitor; and a woman with no power over my fate? You would have my gratitude if you could spare a few words to assure me I’m safer in your hands than I was in de Tourrard’s.”
His expression softened, and he reached out a gloved hand to my face where de Tourrard had broken my nose, his eyes narrowing as I flinched.
“Wise words,” he said. “I assure you I am nothing like de Tourrard, but I can understand your mistrust. Perhaps the name Tarvin de Fowensal would make a difference?”
“Tarvin?”
He nodded. “Aye, Tarvin. I will explain once we arrive at my home. I am anxious to reach there lest the king change his mind. Until then I would ask you to do as you are bid and only speak when spoken to.”
“Am I to be your mistress?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. In due course I shall decide what is to be done with you.”
For the remainder of the journey, I did as he asked and remained silent. The men ignored me with the exception of de Beauvane, who occasionally enquired after my health, and Oliver, who he had assigned to me. The young knight took care of me, tightening the bandage on my arm when it worked loose during the ride. The first time we stopped, he bound my feet, which were becoming increasingly painful from the burns. He assured me we’d arrive at Beauvane Castle soon, where I would be tended to properly.
At night I would wake, crying with pain, to find myself in Oliver’s arms. He shushed me to sleep, silencing the protests from the men I had woken. The injuries from de Tourrard’s beating were healing but the burns to my legs penetrated my dreams. About halfway to our destination. I woke, screaming from a nightmare, crying out for Percy. Thinking he stood before me, my eyes cleared then I recognized Oliver, his expression laced with concern.
“Hush lady, you are safe.”
“Percy…”
“No, lady. ’Tis Oliver. Who is Percy?”
“A young man unfortunate enough to have secured my friendship,” I sighed. “Mortlock had him executed. He put his head on a pike for all to see and made me take my meal sitting next to the poor man’s severed head. The world is full of evil, Oliver.”
“Aye, my lady, there is great evil in the world, but also great good. Do not fear de Beauvane. Your fortunes changed for the better the day he took you into his care.”
When we reached our destination the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. A soft pink glow illuminated the stones of a huge building which stood on a raised area of land, surrounded by a high bailey wall. Built after Duke William’s invasion, the castle had been constructed from a combination of English stones and lighter colored stones brought over from France, giving it a banded appearance. A wide moat surrounded the castle. The horses’ hooves clattered against the wooden drawbridge as we crossed it.
The castle courtyard was full of people; villagers and servants alike. They greeted their lord enthusiastically, welcoming him home. De Beauvane clearly commanded great love and loyalty among his people, ruling them with respect rather than the fear I had grown up with. Who was this man? What did he want with me?
The party dismounted, handing the horses to the grooms and squires who had come running as soon as our arrival had been announced. A tall, slender woman stood at the main doorway. She was elegantly dressed in a purple surcoat over a gown of blue silk, her graying hair almost completely covered by her wimple.
“Husband.”
De Beauvane clasped her hands and kissed her full on the mouth before taking her in his arms. I stood back, reluctant to intrude on their reunion. Their love was obvious. How different might my life have been had Papa married me to such a man!
De Beauvane released his wife and beckoned to me. With Oliver’s support I limped toward her.
“Adelia, I present to you my mistress.”
I hung my head in shame, but she looked at me kindly and took my hands.
“Nay, I cannot do this.” I drew away, but she pulled me back and embraced me.
