Page 55 of The Knight's Pledge
Surely there had not been such crowds when lastLucan was here.
No one wants to see thevictims, Lucan…
“God bless ye, lord,” a stooped man called up to Lucan, holding the coin in his clasped fists. He kissed it. “God bless ye and yer house, forever.”
Lucan felt a pinch of shame—he’d done naught for these people to receive such exalting. The coin wasn’t even his. It was all a lie. He was already half drunk in the saddle and wished to be anywhere but therein the moment.
They rode on past the bridge and the cluster of merchants and beggars on the far side of the Firth, the band now able to spread out a bit on the road. Chumley and James dropped back behind Lucan, and he was glad to not have to pretend at conversation.
The twisting road narrowed after a pair of hours, and Lucan began to recall his last visit to Tower Roscraig, when he had accompanied Tavish Cameron to its door for the first time as its laird. But the village they now entered was nothing like the first time Lucan had seen it—there were no shredded flags or faded marks on the trees warning of sickness. The fallow fields lay empty, true, but they also lay clear and dark and expectant, butting up cleanly to the village that now appeared occupied to the bursting and as busy as if it were midsummer.
The narrow, single file bridge over the deep dry ditch surrounding the keep was little changed, but now colorful banners rippled on the stone walls of Roscraig beneath its battlemented twin towers. The villagers milling about their business in the tidy tracks between the dwellings looked at them curiously, but none seemed overly alarmed at their presence. Lucan halted at the endof the bridge.
“Wait here,” he said, rather more gruffly thanhe’d intended.
Silence met his command, but those riders nearest him sidled away until there was a clear path between Agrios and Effie Annesley astride. Their gazes met.
“Will you go on with me?” Lucan asked, and although the meaning behind his words was innocent, the phrasing of it startled him and he worried that the party would hear an alternative plea behind the efficient query.
“I’ll wait,” she answered with her chin lifted, her expression one of impatient irritation. “Perhaps he’snot even here.”
She’s frightened, Lucan realized. And then thought that perhaps he was, too.
He turned about and urged on Agrios, who didn’t hesitate at the narrow bridge, now improved to have sturdy railings on both sides. He dismounted before the thick wooden door, remembering the scars and gouges it had previously bore. Now the wood was smooth and dark and oiled and looked to be in fine condition. Lucan raised his fist to bangon the planks.
But before the first blow could fall, the door was yanked open with a whoosh of air and Harriet Payne stood in the doorway in her familiar kerchief and double-bodiced apron, her eyes wide and sparkling. There was a flush to her cheeks now, and the hem peeking out from beneath her apron skirt was embroidered and fine. Little polished gems hung from her earlobes and there was a hammered bracelet around her wrist. She looked ten years younger from when Lucan had seen her last—well caredfor and happy.
And in that moment Lucan knew that he’d been right.
“Sir Lucan, for heaven’s sake,” she gasped. “Is it Tav? Glenna? What’s happened?”
“Mistress Payne,” Lucan said with a bow. “Forgive me for any worry my appearance might have caused you. On my honor, the laird and his lady were quite well in London when I saw them there as a guest of the king.” He paused. “How wonderful it is tosee you again.”
Harriet clasped a hand to her bosom with a sigh. “Thanks be to God! I thought”—she broke off with a flap of her hand and Lucan saw her eyes glancing nervously toward the party on the road. “Doona mind my foolishness. ’Tis glad I am to see you, as well, Sir Lucan, sure. But if you know that Tavish weren’t here, why’ve you come?”
“We’ve come to see Thomas, Harriet,” Lucan said quietly.
Harriet Payne went stone still. “I don’t ken what you mean, Sir Lucan. Thomas who?”
“I think you do ken. Thomas Annesley.”
“Thomas Annesley!” Harriet hooted a nervous laugh. “You’re having me on. Why on earth would you think Thomas Annesley would be here, of all places? And why would you be needing to find him?”
Lucan remained very calm, very slow in his reply. “I know he’s here, Harriet. I’ve brought someone for him to meet.”
Harriet was already shaking her head, little nervous movements. “’Tis sorry I am that you’ve come all this way, Sir Lucan. But you’re mistaken. Who told you he was here, any matter, the daft bugger?”
“You did,” Lucan said. “When you opened the door looking like alass in love.”
Harriet’s eyes widened and she pressed her fingertips to her cheeks. “Like a lass? I…whatever do…such nonsense.”
“May I and my party come in?” Lucan asked. “We’ve come a very long way. Northumberland, in fact,” he clarified. “Darlyrede House is no more. Vaughn Hargrave is dead.”
At this, Harriet stilled again and some of the color drained from her face. “Oh, mercy. Oh…mercy.” She suddenly braced her arm against the stone jamb and pulled the door a little closer to her. “Nay. I’m sorry but…oh, you’ve gave me a shock, is all. But I canna”—she broke off her nonsensical ramblings and looked up into Lucan’s eyes. “Dead, you say?”
Lucan nodded.
Harriet glanced behind her as if seeking assistance. “I’m nae prepared for visitors, I fear. You…perhaps you could stay in the village. Aye. I’m certain there is—”
