while the drawbridge was let down. The sound of chains rattling and the sight of high, forbidding walls sent a chill down Rosamunde’s spine. A growing sense of foreboding had come over her as she rode beside the knight who had rescued them, and now her courage almost ebbed away.
‘Would you wait at the village we passed an hour since?’ Rosamunde asked Fitzherbert. ‘We may need an escort when we return to my father’s house.’
‘I shall wait for two weeks,’ he said. ‘Send me word if you wish me to wait longer.’
‘I thank you for your kindness,’ Rosamunde said. ‘We shall leave you now. Maire, ride close to me and lead the packhorse.’
‘Forgive me,’ Fitzherbert said as Maire tried to take the leading rein from him. ‘I would come in with you, lady, if it were up to me—but I must obey my orders. However, I shall wait in the village, as I have said, and the others can return to Sir Thomas.’
Rosamunde looked at him steadily. ‘Are you sure you wish to disobey your master? He may be angry with you for not returning to your post.’
‘I shall risk his wrath willingly in your service, my lady,’ Fitzherbert replied. ‘I have watched you since you first came to serve Lady Angelina and admired you. I am but a soldier with no hope of becoming a knight—but I would give my life for yours, lady.’
‘Oh …’ Rosamunde felt her cheeks grow warm. The man’s look said more than any words and she felt her eyes sting. ‘I do not wish you to die for me, sir—but I shall be grateful for your support. I—I do not know what awaits me, but if I need your help I shall send word to the village. Please do nothing that would draw Lord Mornay’s wrath upon yourself. It will serve no purpose.’
‘I shall merely observe and wait in the village, my lady.’
Rosamunde could not help but be comforted by the thought that he would be close if she needed him. Lord Mornay’s stronghold was built of grey stone and its walls were stout, almost impregnable once the drawbridge was raised. A prisoner within those walls could not expect to be rescued.
How hopeless her uncle must feel as Lord Mornay’s prisoner. Even had she been tempted to run away, Rosamunde could not have deserted him now. She had brought the ransom in her cousin’s place and she must pray that it would be sufficient to secure her uncle’s release.
The knight who had rescued her, and his men, had gone in ahead of her. He and his men were dismounting even as her horse clattered over the wooden drawbridge. The knight had taken off his heaume and was speaking to a thin man who wore the robes of a steward. The steward glanced at her and then leaned forward to say something no one else was meant to hear.
Rosamunde’s throat felt tight and her heart was beating fast as someone came to help her down. She breathed deeply, because she had a terrible feeling that her escort was no other than Lord Mornay himself. He must have been angered when she’d accused him of being a ruthless robber, no better than the rogues from whom he had saved her. As she struggled to compose her thoughts, the steward came hurrying towards her.
‘Lady Angelina? Am I right—you are the daughter of Count Torrs?’ he asked, and bowed low as she nodded her assent. ‘I am Mellors, steward here, and my lord has sent me to welcome you to the castle. He has business that keeps him from greeting you himself. I am to show you to your chamber. He will speak to you when he has time.’
‘Lord Mornay knows that I have brought my father’s ransom?’
‘Yes, lady.’ The steward gave her an odd glance before turning to lead the way inside. ‘My lord knows why you are here, but for the moment he is too busy to see you.’
‘You will please tell Lord Mornay that I wish to see him as soon as possible. I have no desire to remain here for longer than necessary.’
‘It may be best if you wait until my lord is ready,’ the steward replied. ‘He has much on his mind at the moment.’
‘You will please give him my message.’ Rosamunde lifted her head in a haughty manner, imitating her cousin.
‘It might be best to wait, my lady,’ Maire whispered at her side. ‘You do not wish to make him angry.’
She bit her lip but made no further request, a little shiver going through her as she mounted the stone steps to the room at the top of the west tower.
‘You have not told the lady that her father has already been released?’
‘You asked me to leave it to you, my lord.’ ‘Had she arrived a day sooner, she might have heard it from his own lips, but the count is already on his way to the Low Countries to meet in secret with others who seek Richard’s freedom. Two of my friends have gone with him, to protect him and keep him safe until his mission is complete.’
‘The lady seems impatient to leave, my lord.’
A wry smile touched Raphael’s mouth. ‘If she has heard stories of my father, it is hardly surprising. She may be in some danger, Mellors. If Prince John hears what I’ve done, he might seek to take her captive and gain his ransom that way. Besides, we discovered her at the mercy of a robber band, and there are many others in this country. Prince John’s taxes have made the people desperate and they care little for his law. It may be best if the lady remains here under my protection until her father comes back to claim her.’
‘Do you wish to see her?’
‘Please ask the lady to join us at supper in the hall. I have more important tasks for the moment—Prince John’s messenger awaits an answer to his letter to my father. I must send him my answer before I attend to other business.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Mellors inclined his head and walked away. Raphael sat at his board and drew parchment, ink and a quill towards him. He frowned as he began to write. The prince must be informed that Lord William Mornay was dead and his son returned from the Holy Land. It would not do to antagonise the prince, for much might be gained by Raphael appearing to be a man after his father’s heart. If the prince learned that Raphael had sent money with Count Torrs to help King Richard return to England and the throne, he might try to stop the gold reaching its destination. Better for Raphael to keep his silence and wait until the chance came to serve his king. If Prince John was determined to usurp his brother, he might plot to have him murdered when he set foot on English soil.
Besides, Raphael had recognised the woman he’d noticed at the quayside in France. She had not known him because of his heaume, but he knew her. He needed a little time to sort out his thoughts before he saw her again.
Chapter Three
Alone in the room at the top of the tower, Rosamunde looked down at the courtyard. She had been left waiting for two hours and her apprehension was growing. She had not been locked in her chamber but since there was no possibility of her leaving the castle without permission she supposed Lord Mornay did not feel the need to imprison her.
Why had he not sent for her? Did he hope to break her will by leaving her to reflect on her probable fate? She raised her head, feeling a surge of anger against the man whose face she had not yet seen. She would not show fear or let him break her resolve. Indeed, she would not wait here until she was sent for. Her father might be an impoverished knight, but she was of good blood, and Lord Mornay had no right to treat her
