Lord Of Danger Stuart, Anne (classic fiction .TXT) 📖

should have come as no surprise. Richard was capable of that and more. If Simon hadn’t been so besotted by his wife he would have seen it coming. Not that he would necessarily have stopped him, but he had a dislike of surprises.

Richard smiled sweetly. “Whether she was murdered or not remains to be seen.”

“Why?”

“It may have simply been a tragic accident. After all, Alys didn’t realize how strong the draught was when she gave it to my sickly wife. Or, at least, that’s what I would hope. I would hate to think my sister was a coldblooded murderer.”

“Alys?” He showed absolutely no emotion. He was beyond reaction. “Why would Alys have murdered your wife?”

“Now that part troubled me,” Richard confided. “Why would a demure, practical creature such as Alys want to murder Hedwiga? Apart from the fact that anyone who met her would want to murder Hedwiga,” he added cheerfully. “The fact remains that several of my servants and men at arms saw her enter Hedwiga’s room with a goblet and vial just before evensong. She was the last person to see her alive.”

“Alys was in my solar…”

“No one saw her, Grendel. And no one would believe you.”

“She had no reason…”

“Witchcraft, Grendel. She was invaded by demons that forced her to commit such a hideous act.” He took another leisurely sip of ale.

“Then it’s not her fault.”

“Ah, but how do you get rid of demons? Only by destroying the host. You know what they do to women convicted of murder, don’t you? They’re buried alive.”

“Where is she?” He kept the hoarse desperation from his voice by sheer willpower.

“In the dungeons. In a cell next to the body of my wife, where she may look upon her and contemplate her sins.”

“You can’t do this.”

“Simon of Navarre, I have.”

He could kill him, quite easily. Richard was thickly muscled, but he’d grown soft with age and meat and drink, and he’d be no match for Simon’s height and skill. But that wouldn’t help Alys.

If it weren’t for Alys this would all be very simple. He would kill Richard the Fair and escape.

If it weren’t for Alys he would never have been caught in this trap in the first place. Richard would have no power over him, other than his own greed.

He sat down, leaning back in the chair, surveying his lord with deceptive idleness. “So what is it you want, my lord?” he asked in a curious voice. He already knew the answer.

“What I have always wanted. Your loyalty and devotion. Your dedication to my best interests. Your assistance in helping my plans come to fruition.”

“You want me to kill the king.”

“Such bluntness!” Richard protested. “But in a word, yes.”

“What made you think I wouldn’t be willing to do it for you? Your interests are mine. I would rather serve the King of England than a second class earl.”

Richard’s face darkened for a moment. And then he laughed. “Ah, Grendel, your boldness enchants me. And I have no reason to doubt your loyalty. I merely believe in making certain that my allies are well-motivated.”

“And I’m supposed to care whether Lady Alys is judged guilty of a murder she didn’t commit, and sentenced to a brutal death?”

“Don’t you?” Richard asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Not particularly. She’s a clever enough wench, but no great beauty. Her main value is in her kinship to you, and if you choose to dispense with that kinship, and her, then she’s of no value to me. I would do as you bid, regardless.”

“Almost, dear Grendel, I believe you. But you must confess you were surprisingly laggard in your production of the sleeping draught. And you’ve been… odd, recently. Distracted. I assumed my stone-hearted demon had fallen prey to Cupid’s dart.”

Simon just looked at him, and Richard laughed.

“Foolish me,” he said. “I should have realized you would be impervious to such weaknesses. Now the other one, Claire, she’s a tidy handful. It’s easy to grow foolish over such beauty. But you’re such an odd creature, you didn’t even want her.”

“I leave her to you, my lord,” he said in a silky voice.

“And I believe I’ll take her,” Richard said. “As soon as she recovers from the stomach grippe. Can’t abide spewing women. Hedwiga cast up her accounts before she died, you know. I was afraid she’d purged herself of the poison, but God was on my side.”

“Indeed,” Simon murmured.

Richard leaned forward across the table. “You know the truly horrifying thing about the whole affair? She became amorous!” He shuddered in ghastly remembrance.

“It does have that effect,” Simon murmured, his brain working feverishly. So Richard didn’t know that Claire had run away. That might be put to good advantage, though at the moment he couldn’t see how.

“I almost had to strangle her, which would have complicated matters, but fortunately she spewed and died.”

“Fortunately.” Simon kept his right hand twisted beneath the long sleeve of his robe. It was clenched in a tight fist of rage. “When do we leave for court, my lord?”

Richard beamed at him. “That’s my Grendel. I’m a man in mourning, but the young king and his regent will overlook that detail in my zeal to present my condolences. After all, Hedwiga was a cousin to the boy as well.”

“And what of Alys?” he asked with what sounded like no more than idle curiosity. “If you don’t intend to charge her then you might as well set her free.”

“You care so much for your plain little wife?”

“You should know me better than that. I have no need of her, and she’s an annoyance. Send her back to the convent if you like. One with a vow of silence. Then she need trouble us no longer.”

“But what if she’s with child?” Richard asked with cunning sweetness. “Or is she still a maid?”

It was a question Simon had no desire to answer. No desire even to contemplate. But he had to be extremely careful with exactly what he divulged to Richard. “She’s no longer a maid,” he said casually. “Though