Chapter One
England, 1122
“Lord Ranulf is through the gate, my lady. Our men won’t be able to hold him off much longer.”
“Through the gate” meant Ranulf was minutes away from entering the keep. Her small force had put up a valiant fight, holding Ranulf and his knights off for almost two days, but Katherine knew the defeat was inevitable. Her force could not stand against the might of Ranulf’s.
And once he was inside . . . Katherine closed her eyes.
“My lady?”
Katherine focused on Sir Guy, commander of her guard. He stood at the foot of her bed, where Katherine lay propped against pillows cuddling the boy she’d delivered three hours earlier. “Any word from de Lauren?” she asked softly.
Sir Guy shook his head slowly.
When Ranulf had first attacked, Katherine had sent a messenger to Nicholas de Lauren, asking for aid. De Lauren’s keep was a half day’s ride from her own. Her message had been urgent. De Lauren would have arrived here by now . . . if he were coming.
“‘Twas never certain de Lauren would heed your call, Lady Katherine. We can wait no longer.”
Nay, she had not been certain Nicholas would come. But she’d hoped. She and Sir Guy had come up with a plan if de Lauren did not render aid. In keeping with it, Sir Guy now stood garbed as a peasant. He was right. They could wait no longer for de Lauren.
Katherine ran her fingertips over the blonde hair so like peach fuzz that covered her son’s pink scalp. Tears blurred her vision of him. His very existence as heir to Stanfield would condemn him to death.
Marriage to Ranulf would end this siege. He’d made his terms plain. He wanted Stanfield, her family’s holding and its assets, and she was his means to that end. Or she had been. Her son’s birth changed that. Marriage to her now would gain Ranulf nothing.
Unless her son were dead. If Ranulf learned of her son’s birth, she had no doubt she would lose two children this day. Her son’s twin sister, as perfect as an angel, lay at peace in the cradle by Katherine’s bed. The girl-child had been stillborn. God had given and God had taken away . . .
And now, God forgive her, the only way to save her son from Ranulf was to use the boy’s dead sister.
“Sir Guy,” Katherine said. “How go the preparations for our departure?”
“All is ready. Horses await us in the forest beyond the hidden passages.”
Sir Guy had been in service to her family since before Katherine’s birth. Other than herself only he knew of the escape passages that existed beneath the keep.
Middy, Katherine’s old nursemaid, stood dwarfed by Sir Guy. “Me lady,” Middy said, “You are not yet healed from the births. How will you ride?”
Katherine did not need to be reminded of the long deliveries. Her slightest movement brought pain. “I will ride because I must,” she said.
“Will you not change your course an’ ride with us?” Middy asked.
Katherine shook her head. “When Ranulf finds me gone from here he will leave no stone unturned in his search. To ride with you is to risk capture for my son.” Katherine glanced at her daughter. “Ranulf will see that the babe I delivered this day is dead. Only we in this room know of a second babe.” Softly she added, “And I must make my appeal to de Lauren in person.” She must not fail.
“How will you send word that the keep is secure?” Sir Guy asked.
“You will know to return when the Stanfield banner flies again.”
Katherine hugged her child tight. She kissed him then wiped her tears from his pale skin.
“See him safe, Sir Guy, until I can reclaim him.”
“I will protect him with my life.”
Katherine nodded. She expected nothing less.
Middy shuffled to the bedside and Katherine placed her child in the old woman’s outstretched arms. “Go with God, my son.”
Katherine watched the door close behind them. A few minutes more and they would be in the passages. She could only hope that with the battle raging outside the keep their escape would go undetected.
She slid to the edge of her bed. Clutching the bedpost, she stood, and made her way to the hearth. The June air blowing in through her window now was warm, but it had been night when her labor began, and a fire had been lit. Low flames still licked at blackened logs.
Above the hearth, behind the likeness of her father, was the map to the passages. Her father had shown it to William when he’d married Katherine. William had not been concerned with escape routes when he’d asked to see the map, Katherine knew, but with the path that led to the Stanfield jewels that were her bride-price.
The jewels could finance a kingdom. Ranulf must not find them.
She removed the map and tossed it into the fire.
At her clothes chest, she tossed in her wedding band and withdrew the ragged and dirty peasant’s garb that Middy had left for her. She withdrew a cloak sewn in the blue and white colors of Stanfield. She dressed quickly then went to her daughter and knelt before the cradle. Her eyes filled with tears. Tonight, she should be sitting vigil with her child in the chapel. Instead, her daughter would be here in this room, alone. And come morning, this tiny innocent would not be laid to rest. Leaving her child was essential to the plan she and Sir Guy had devised, but now that the moment had arrived, how could she do it?
Shouts rang out from below. The clang of swords. Screams, hideous screams. Ranulf was inside. Had enough time passed for Sir Guy and Middy to reach the passages? To think not was the way to madness.
Katherine’s hands trembled with the need to take her daughter’s body in her arms and flee with it. But she must choose life over death. Her son’s life. She leaned forward and kissed her daughter’s cold lips, then draped the cloak over her. The Stanfield cloak would mark the babe as hers and satisfy Ranulf’s bloodlust for her child.
* * *
Night had fallen when she emerged from the passages. Stars lit the sky. She rubbed dirt over her face, hands, and in her blonde hair. Unbound, it fell to her hips. Blowing free in the wind, it would tangle and snarl. Even now, Ranulf’s men may be searching for her. Very soon, she would not be recognizable as the lady of Stanfield.
The horse Sir Guy had promised was tied to a tree in the dense growth of the forest beyond the passages. A sorry sight the animal was, Katherine thought as she seized the reins. But dressed as she was, a sturdier beast would attract attention.
Katherine untied the reins and led the horse to a fallen log. She climbed onto it and, with the added height, mounted. Pain shot through her middle. She hung across the horse’s bare back, inhaling and exhaling shaky breaths; then, gritting her teeth, she gained her seat and kicked the horse forward.
De Lauren’s keep was west. The quickest way there was to travel the roads, but she kept to the woods. She knew the dangers criminals posed to a woman traveling without escort. But she couldn’t risk encountering other innocent travelers either, who might be able to tell Ranulf’s men that a lone woman had passed this way.
Low-hanging trees filtered the moonlight. But she knew the route well. So often she’d traveled between her land and de Lauren’s. So long ago. A lifetime, it seemed.
The air cooled. Owls hooted. In the distance a coyote howled. The horses’ sides heaved, but she pushed him on. She stopped at a stream, and sipped from a water skin that Sir Guy had thoughtfully provided, while the horse lowered its head to drink. The poor beast had carried her for hours. Best if she would dismount and relieve him of her weight. She was afraid the animal would not last to see her to her destination. But if she dismounted, Katherine knew she’d be unable to mount again.
She pressed on. Light from a low fire glowed a short distance ahead. Someone had made camp. “Easy, my lad,” she whispered to the horse. She drew on the reins to slow the animal to a walk, then led him wide of the light.
The horse emerged from the cover of trees. The first grey streaks of dawn lit the sky and she saw the familiar massive stone fortress. De Lauren’s keep. She felt relief to have arrived, though she was not certain of her welcome. She dug her heels into the horse’s sides.
Three soldiers rode out to her. De Lauren’s men-she recognized the black and gold colors they wore. Night patrollers. Two knights flanked her while the third halted his horse in front of her. She pulled up the reins.
The knight facing her said, “State your business.”
“I am-” her voice cracked. She cleared her dry throat. “I am Lady Katherine of Stanfield. I beg an audience with Lord de Lauren.”
The young knight grinned. “And I’m King Henry himself.” He leaned forward on the saddle horn. “Come on, sweet, try again.”
Despite her altered appearance and that she would arrive without escort, she hadn’t considered that she would not be taken at her word. She’d given a ring that bore the Stanfield crest to her messenger to present to de Lauren along with her handwritten note. And she had nothing now to prove her identity to these guards. Or did she . . .
Katherine removed the gold chain and cross she wore beneath her ragged clothing. She held the neck chain out to the knight. “Take this to your lord as proof that I am who I say.”
De Lauren would recognize the necklace as hers. Proof of her identity, though, was not the main issue, she knew. Her messenger would have left no doubt he’d been dispatched in her name. And yet de Lauren had not come to her aid.
The knight took the neck chain and Katherine clasped her hands tightly. The chain was thread-thin, the cross tiny, yet it was more than a serf would own. Katherine thought that fact prevented the knight from dismissing her claim entirely.
The knight nodded. The soldier to her left seized her reins. They led her slowly to the keep. As they neared, the knight in front called out, “Open the gate.”
Though it was barely dawn, armed soldiers strode across the courtyard. De Lauren commanded a large and powerful army, a force, she knew, not to be challenged.
She waited in the courtyard, with two of de Lauren’s guards, while the third entered the castle. The sun crested the tower now, blinding her with its light. Bright spots popped in front of her eyes. Her head spun. She clutched the pommel.
“Lady Katherine.”
Her blurred vision cleared. The knight came into focus. The one who’d entered the castle now stood at her side, looking up at her. He held out his hand. Her cross dangled from his fingertips. Katherine’s stomach clenched. Had de Lauren sent the man away?
“Lord de Lauren will see you now, my lady.”
The knot in her stomach eased and Katherine nodded.
The knight handed the cross to her, then gripped her waist and lowered her to her feet.
She clutched his shoulders. Had he not held her, she would fall onto her face. Her legs trembled. “A moment,” she said.
When she took a step away from the man, he must have still doubted her ability to walk unaided. He offered his arm.
Inside the castle, the morning meal was being served. The aroma blended with the floral scent of fresh rushes that crunched under her feet. Knights at table laughed and called out coarse jests to serving maids who responded in kind. What were her own people facing this morning? Katherine tasted bile. The merriment here was obscene to her.
She was escorted up stairs and down a short corridor. The knight stopped at a door that she knew opened into the solar. He knocked once, then opened the door for her. De Lauren sat at a table. That, two tapestried chairs, and a bench beneath the window were the only furnishings. Parchment was spread out on the table, before him. He looked at her.
She waited on the threshold, but he did not bid her enter. So be it. She entered uninvited, though not far into the room. It was she who was here begging favors. She curtsied, passably she hoped, since her legs felt less than steady. “Thank you for seeing me, my lord.”
De Lauren stood. She stood only as tall as his shoulders and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.
He bowed. “My pleasure, my lady.”
His bow had been shallow, his tone mocking. No doubt she looked a sight. Unlike him. Five years had passed since she’d seen him. His body still attested to the rigorous training that saw him through many a fight for his life. He wore his hair shorter now, the black ends just curling over his nape. His face was leaner than she remembered, but no less handsome.
“My lord,” she said. “I am here in person to request your intervention with Lord Ranulf on behalf of my people of Stanfield-“
“Your people? Widowed what, a fortnight, my lady, you waste no time in asserting your repossession of Stanfield.”
Katherine licked her dry lips. “As I explained in my message to you-“
“I received no message.”
That did not bode well for Robert, her messenger. She closed her eyes briefly. She had to concentrate on the fact that de Lauren had not summarily dismissed her plea. Hope fluttered in her stomach. “Two days ago, Lord Ranulf laid siege to Stanfield Keep. My late husband had taken the bulk of our forces to defend an ally to the east. Our army was badly depleted in the battle that took my husband’s life. The forces that remained were not sufficient to defeat Lord Ranulf. His troops overpowered mine last evening and seized the holding.”
“You say you sent a messenger to me?”
“Upon Ranulf’s arrival, I dispatched a messenger, requesting aid from you.”
“What of Meredith, your late husband’s ally to the north? Surely he would have rallied to your cause?” He looked into her eyes. “I find it surprising you would come to me. As you know, de Lauren and Stanfield have not been allied in five years.”
Since her marriage to William. She’d broken her betrothal to de Lauren to marry William. “My lord, I could not risk approaching Lord Meredith. You may not be aware that Ranulf as well was my husband’s ally.”
De Lauren grunted. “Ah, yes. One jackal is dead, and the ones that remain battle each other for what was his.”
Though she agreed with de Lauren’s analogy, Katherine said nothing.
“Perhaps you should have paid Meredith or Ranulf a call garbed as you are at this moment. Your appearance, my lady, would raise doubt that the Stanfield wealth they seek has not been squandered.”
She ignored the insult. “My lord, my cause is great-“
“Indeed.”
De Lauren’s eyes were cold. He might very well applaud her destruction by Ranulf. Gooseflesh rose on her skin.
“If you will not help me,” she said, “then please consider the innocents at Stanfield.”
He watched her in silence then said, “What will be my reward for retaking your keep from Ranulf?”
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