Page 46 of The Knight's Pledge
“It wasn’t you who killed Adolphus Paget in the wood,” Lucan realized. “It was Gorman. Padraig said to me that day that it was as if you had been lying in wait for us. And you were. You had tracked us.”
“We watched you and laid the trap, yes. Of course. Rolf told us Paget had chosen to ride in your hunting party,” Effie explained. “It was the best chance we would ever have—no guards, on our own territory.”
“The woods are Darlyredelands, though.”
“My father’s territory then,” Effie shot back coolly.
Lucan let it go. “What about the others? How did you all come to livein the caves?”
They were nearly back at the White Swan now. “Perhaps another time,” she said briskly. “Gorman needs me.” She pulled ahead of him and walked toward the door.
“Effie,” Lucancalled to her.
She paused, turned sidewaysto regard him.
“I won’tbetray Gorman.”
“What on earth has Gorman done that you might betray?” she asked simply, and turned back to enter the White Swan.
Lucan stood thinking for several moments and realized his predicament—Lucan hadn’t seen Gorman kill Adolphus Paget, and Effie had never affirmed that it had been him who’d fired the fatal arrow. Lucan had been with Gorman all the while on the journey into Scotland, while Elsmire was being destroyed. And any criminal activities thus far carried out while on the road had been done, if not exactly with Lucan’s participation, certainly without his interference. He was as guilty as any of them on this journey.
Clever, cleverEffie Annesley.
Chapter 11
They left the White Swan the next morning, the party leaving Rolf holding Kit Katey’s kitten in the dooryard, Mari and Gale waving and calling them down the road with good wishes.
Lucan met Rolf’s eyes, and Lucan saw a strength there he’d not recognized before. The steward, that necessary cog in the machinery of wicked Darlyrede House for as long as Lucan could recall, and all the while harboring the grief of the loss of his son, and then, later, the rage at Vaughn Hargrave’s role in his ruin. Day in and day out, Rolf had managed Darlyrede with unquestionable integrity, and yet it had been that very man, the man Lucan had trusted above any other in the hold, who had directed the bandits of the wood to Lucan and Padraig’s hunting party that day, knowing that any of them could have been killed right alongside of Adolphus Paget. There had been no apologies.
Rolf had done that thing for his son. Had burned to the ground the castle where his son had been held prisoner. And now that son was doing what he must to save his own boy,George Thomas.
Lucan gave Rolf a single nod.
Rolf answeredwith the same.
The party headed west on the village road.
Lucan’s left boot felt tight around his foot, packed, as it was, by Winnie that morn with the bruised herbs wrapped in tallowed cloths. He didn’t feel any difference except perhaps a tingling sensation in his toes, but he rather thought that was due to lossof circulation.
No matter—it had caused the old woman to smile at him and pat his leg encouragingly, and so Lucan had decidedto indulge her.
James Rose cantered along at his side in the middle of the party. Despite the gay morning sun behind them, the sullen young man presented his typical smirking expression.
“Glasgow, prepare thyself,” he muttered darkly.
“Have you ever been?” Lucan asked.
“Nay,” the young man admitted. “The White Swan is the northern extent of my travels. I can only hope my arse doesn’t freeze immediately upon our arrival.”
Lucan chuckled. “I too wish for spring to make a hasty arrival, if we are to persevere beyond Glasgow and into the Highlands once more.”
“You’ve been there many times,”James assumed.
“More times than I cared to,” Lucan said. “Glasgow is a fair reprieve though, compared to the islands of the coast, or worse, the north where Caedmaray lies. I feel no shame in admitting dread at fording the North Sea again in pursuit of Thomas Annesley.”
“You’re hoping you’ll simply happen upon him again, then. Just take him back with us? ‘Ho, there, found you?’”
Lucan looked sideways at the youth’s scathing tone. “Have youa better idea?”
