Lady of Hay Barbara Erskine (reading books for 7 year olds TXT) 📖

is setting you up, Nick, I told you, only you're such a blind fool you can't see it. He hates Jo, and he's jealous of you. He's been programming you to hurt her. He's been feeding you these stupid ideas—you don't really believe you're King John, for God's sake? You'll end up in a funny farm if you do! Impulsively she clutched his arm. "Nick, I do still care about you—and I'd hate to see you get hurt, and whatever I feel about Jo, I don't want to see her end up Sam's victim. He's mad, Nick. I really believe he's mad. Do be careful. Please. "

Stunned, Nick said nothing for a moment. Then: "Is Sam still at my apartment?"

She shrugged. "I didn't inquire—he called after he got out of court, but I told him to go to hell, so he's probably out to get me as well by now. "

"And Jo? I tried to call her from New York but she never replied. "

Judy raised an eyebrow. "Then let's hope he hasn't got at her already. He came from her apartment that night he came here, Nick. That's all I know. "

It took Nick seven minutes to reach Cornwall Gardens. He sprinted up the stairs. Jo's apartment was empty. It had the feel of a place that had been deserted for several days. On the mantelpiece a bowl of roses had faded, their petals scattered up the carpet; otherwise the place was unnaturally tidy.

He wandered over to the balcony doors and glanced out, noticing that the plants in the tubs outside had wilted in the heat, then he turned away. The kitchen was spotless, everything in place. In the bedroom the curtains were half drawn. He noticed the tape recorder on the chest of drawers and idly switched it on, listening as the thin, haunting strains of the flute filled the room. For a moment he stood quite still, puzzled; he had heard that music before when Sam was here, alone with Jo. He snapped off the music and was about to leave the room when his eye was caught by the belt lying across the chair. He recognized the engraved buckle. It was Sam's.

His eyes suddenly murderous, he raced up the passage and dragged open the front door. After slamming it behind him, he descended the stairs two at a time and dived into his car. He pulled out into the traffic with only a perfunctory glance in his mirror, then tore up Gloucester Road and turned right toward Queen's Gate.

Sam was writing at Nick's desk. He looked up when he heard Nick's key in the lock.

"So, the wanderer returns. How did you enjoy your bite at the Big Apple?"

Nick strode across the room and confronted him across the desk. "Where is Jo?"

"Jo? I have no idea, Nicholas. At home perhaps?" Sam's breath smelled of Scotch.

"You know damn well she's not at home. " Nick produced his hand from behind his back. In it was the belt. "Do you know where I found this?"

Sam stared at it. He gave a half smile. "The instrument of chastisement, " he said almost thoughtfully.

"The what?" Nick froze. He leaned across the desk and gripped the front of Sam's shirt, half dragging him out of his chair. "What the hell are you trying to say, Sam? Have you gone crazy?"

Sam smiled. "Someone had to beat her, Nick. And it was less than she deserved. Many men would have killed their wife for what she did. She admitted it, you know, in the end, and she submitted to her punishment on her knees. She wanted it. It must have helped to ease her conscience. "

Nick let go of him abruptly. He was staring at his brother in complete horror. "You are crazy, " he whispered. "God in heaven, you are crazy! Where is she, man?" His blue eyes narrowed furiously. "If you've hurt her I swear to God I'll kill you!"

Sam laughed. He pushed his chair back slightly and shifted in it sideways, draping his arm across its back, totally relaxed.

"John, " he said softly. "John, King of England. She betrayed you too. She scorned you. She mocked you publicly. Kings do not stand for treatment like that from anyone, never mind from the women they desire. You killed her before, brother mine, and you'll kill her again. " He leaned forward suddenly. "Remember? You want her to suffer. And you want me to see her suffer. You are going to tell me what you intend to do to her, Nick, and you will beg me to come and watch you take your revenge. "

"Stop that crap, Sam! I know what you're up to. " Nick clenched his fists till the nails bit into his palms. "You get out of this apartment. Get out and go back to Scotland, and leave us alone. " His voice had sunk to a hiss.

Sam stood up. "It's too late, Nick. I began to plant the seeds in your brain the first day I realized who I was. I remembered that massacre at Abergavenny, you see. I remembered stabbing that Welsh quisling till his warm blood ran up my arm. I remembered I was William de Braose and Matilda was mine. Mine, Nick. And she'll be mine again. This time I shall be ready when the trial comes. " He moved away from behind the desk. "I prepared the ground too well. " He laughed. "You are an arrogant fool. You played into my hands, trusting your mind to me. "

Nick kept an icy grip on his temper. "You are talking pure melodrama, Sam. What you're implying is not possible and we both know it. Pack your things and get out. "

Sam stood still for a moment staring at him, his face alight with malicious amusement. "She slept with Heacham, you know, " he said suddenly. "In Wales. I recognized him at once. De Clare. He still has a hold over her, of course, but he knows