“She’s no traitor.” His steely tone dared his brother to argue.
“I’ll not stand here arguing with you, Grey. We’ll follow her and see which one of us is right.” Edward stared at him across the space. “But mark my words, she’s hiding something.”
Grey shook off his initial shock. “Shut up. She might just be afraid. I’d be, if I were her. Think of it. Her father could be hung as soon as tomorrow if the king appears and says it’s to be so. She thinks she has no one. Maybe she’s trying to get home where at least she may have a loyal friend.”
Edward shook his head. “I don’t agree. Why not leave in the morning instead of like a conspirator stealing away in the night? Besides, you can’t be trusted when it comes to her. She’s gotten under your skin.”
Grey gritted his teeth. He’d not deny the statement, but Edward was wrong on one account. “My first loyalty is to the king. If Madelaine is guilty of helping her father, I’ll stop her. Mark my words.”
“I need no words, just actions.”
Up ahead, Madelaine stood at the helm of the boat. Where the hell was she going? For a good quarter of an hour, they followed her, until the boat maneuvered to the side of the river bank and Madelaine got out with the boatman’s help. As she started walking toward the dark woods, Grey spoke. “That’s the way to her home.” He didn’t bother to hide a triumphant smile. When Edward didn’t answer, but pulled their boat beside the other, Grey spoke again. “I told you.”
“We’ll see,” Edward said. “Granger,” he called to the boatman of Madelaine’s boat. “Who was the lady and where’s she going?”
Grey didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He scrambled out of the boat; his boots crunching twigs and leaves as he landed on dry ground. Without a backward glance, he raced toward Madelaine’s departing figure. At the moment, he didn’t care about anything but being with her and protecting her. If she wanted to go home, he’d take her there, let her have a few days to mourn her loss and then he’d marry her. He wanted to make her his wife before her father was dead. That way no one could stop them and no one would dare to publicly lay any blame or suspicion at her feet since she would be part of his family.
He strode forward and when he was within range where he thought she’d hear, he called out, “Madelaine!” She kept walking into the woods. He frowned. Had she not heard him? “Madelaine!” He doubled his steps. Her steps quickened in time with his, each crunch of her boot against the dry leaves coming faster than before until she was running.
“Madelaine, for God’s sake! Stop!” He broke out into a run, shoving branches out of the path as he did. Dry limbs snagged on his coat and scraped his face as he ran. He raced forward, determined to reach her. Within a few strides, he grabbed her arm.
He whipped her around to face him, whatever soothing words he thought to say died. Constance glared back at him. His mind reeled and then fear for Madelaine surged through his veins. He gripped Constance’s arms harder than he’d normally ever handle any lady. “Why the devil do you have on Lady Madelaine’s dress? Where is she? What have you done?”
Constance wrenched her arm from his grip. “The lady paid me to pretend I was her. As to where she is, I couldn’t say. As to what I’ve done—” Constance shrugged. “—no more than any other dirt poor servant. I took good money offered for a job that harmed no one. You’d do the same if you had as many mouths to feed and bodies to keep warm as I do.” Constance leveled him with a scathing look of hatred. “Then again, I doubt you understand how hunger can gnaw at the belly, and how you can be so cold you doubt you’ll ever feel warm again.”
He didn’t know, and he felt the fool standing there harassing a woman who was only trying to keep her family from starving and freezing to death.
Panicked determination swept across Constance’s face as shoved her hands on her hips. “Can I go now? I do believe my job’s finished.”
He nodded mutely. Madelaine’s possible betrayal cut like a sharp knife across his heart. He stood, listening to the departing sounds of the woman’s footsteps, and then a burning anger with himself started deep in his belly and boiled to the surface propelling him into motion. He swung around and almost ran smack into Edward. “So help me God, if you say a word I’ll lay you low with a single blow.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Have it your way. But you’ll see soon that I’m right.”
“I refuse to believe the worst of her unless I have definite proof the worst is true.”
“Grey—”
“No,” Grey interrupted. He’d not spill his guts here and tell his brother how alone he’d always felt because he’d chosen to believe his own father didn’t love him. He’d not spin a sorry tale about how he’d learned the truth about Father, and until Madelaine had come into his life he’d thought he was unworthy of being loved, even though the tale was true. All Edward need know was that Grey would not abandon Madelaine unless he had absolute proof of her guilt. “I’ll stand her protector until I’m certain of her guilt.”
Edward nodded. “Fine. Then let us hurry and catch her yet and get to the bottom of everything. But when we do catch her, brother, you need to be prepared. If I’m right and you’re wrong, you will still need her to think you love her if she’s to confide in you.”
Grey nodded. It wouldn’t be hard to play the part of the besotted fool. Hewasbesotted. He loved her with an ache that stunned him. What would be hard would be to trap her if and when he learned she was betraying the king. He wasn’t sure how he would separate duty from love, but if she was guilty he would have to.
Twenty-One
Madelaine rapped softly on the door to her father’s cell. “Father,” she whispered. Nerves were making her jumpy. She glanced over her shoulder to ensure she didn’t see the flickering light of a torch guiding the guard downstairs. She doubted she had more than ten minutes before he returned to his post with the blanket she’d demanded and realized he’d been duped. And then what? Would he immediately check the dungeon?
She knocked a little harder as cold sweat trickled down her back and dampened her underarms. “Father!” She was more worried now the guard would return before she was back than being overheard.
The sound of shuffling feet reached her from under the door. She slumped against the wood. Inhaling a deep breath, she forced herself to straighten and clutched tightly around the dagger she’d stolen.
“Madelaine?” Her father’s face appeared at the small, barred window. His dark eyes locked on her. I told you to make your way home, girl.”
“Why did you betray the king?” She blinked at the useless tears filling her eyes. “I’ll gladly give my life to save you, Father, but I deserve to knowwhyI might die.”
“Silly, girl.” His voice was low and soothing. “Come closer.”
She pressed her cheek to the bar where he stretched his fingers between the iron railings. He traced softly over her cheek before cupping her chin. “You’re not going to die and neither am I, as long as you do what I say. Do you believe me?”
