Page 44 of Lord of Deception

Chapter Thirty-Three

Alys barely slept. Kit’s parting words, “Thank you for my freedom”, rang a knell in her heart. She sensed he meant more than just the rescue. Had she, by being so intractable, freed him from any attachment he might have developed for her? All her bravado ebbed away, and she lay abed feeling like a lost little child, gazing despairingly into the dark.

How could she have let him go without telling him how she felt? What if she never had another chance to do so?

As soon as it was full daylight, she tried to go about her business as if nothing was wrong, but it was a hard part to play. Fortunately, Kate kept to her room. Was she packing for a speedy departure? Would the conspirators now head to Norfolk, in hopes of evading Kit’s damning testimony? Avery and Kirlham crossed her path but once, and she could tell by their thunderous brows that they’d discovered the loss of their prisoner.

Kit’s guard had been sent away after breakfast at a fast gallop, mayhap to reassemble the men who had been here upon the yester. As she watched him ride away, still sleepy and drooping over his horse’s neck, she realized she hadn’t even given a thought to the punishment he might expect for losing his captive. Did this make her as bad as the conspirators, in that she now cared nothing for her enemies? Except perhaps Kate, to whom she owed a debt of gratitude, and who had behaved much better towards her while her husband was still alive.

By mid-morning, there was still no sign of Walsingham and his men, so Alys retreated to her room to stare gloomily out the window. She couldn’t stop thinking about Kit. Once Walsingham had his plotters in chains, would Kit be forgiven and return to court? If so, she’d likely never see him again.

Her musings were interrupted by a noise from outside. Racing to the window, she was just in time to see a loaded wagon leave the courtyard. It was piled high with chests, bundles, and a handful of servants perched uncomfortably atop the swaying mass. Almost immediately, this vehicle was followed by another, the carriage Kate liked to use if traveling any distance. Alys caught a glimpse of Hannah Shawcross’ dark curls leaning towards Kate’s bright ones as the carriage window came into her line of vision.

They were leaving. Kate, Hannah, the servants. But if they were intending to go up to Norfolk as planned, why had no one told her?

Panic seized her. She flew to open the door, but it was stuck fast, and the key had vanished.

Someone had locked her in.

Who had done this? And how had they managed it so quietly that she hadn’t even heard? Oh, what a fool she’d been to take to her room. What good could she do Kit and the authorities now? She’d have done better to take her chances in the open instead of being caught here like a rat in a trap.

She might have to use the window after all—but no, there was a man standing just beneath it, watching the coach and the wagon rumble away. She recognized the expensive black velvet of his attire. Sir Thomas Kirlham. Was he deliberately stationed there, to prevent her descent down the ivy?

The locked door, the guard beneath her window, could only mean one thing—she was no longer trusted. The point for dissembling had passed. With trembling fingers, she reached beneath the bed and withdrew the dag, then spread out the cloth with the black powder to make it look as if she’d just primed the gun. Pointing the weapon at the door, she waited.

Her nemesis was not long in coming. But it was Richard Avery, not Kirlham, who slammed into the room. For a moment, she felt relief—he had never terrified her as Kirlham had. She was soon to discover her mistake.

She raised the gun in shaking hands. “Stand aside and let me pass.”

He halted and stared, eyes glittering palely as they roved from the gun to Alys’ face and back again. “I would put that down if I were you. Such things are accounted dangerous.”

“Don’t patronize me, sir—I’m sure it will work as effectively for a woman as it would for a man. I’m not afraid to use it to protect myself.”

“Forgive me.” Sarcasm dripped from his mouth. “I meant no insult. Only, it would surprise me to learn you had used such a weapon before. You must understand that if handled wrongly, it could be just as damaging to you as to whoever it’s pointed at.”

“I know about misfires—I’m no simpleton. The fact is, I’m prepared to take a chance on it. Are you?”

He drew in a breath, and his posture relaxed. “Why do you feel it necessary to threaten me, Alys? Have I ever done you any harm?”

“Not until the moment you locked me into my room. I can’t believe you’d incarcerate me if you meant me no harm.”

He moved a pace into the room, but the waving of the gun brought him up short again. Holding out his hands in a conciliatory gesture, he said, “A mere precaution, my dear. There is a dangerous felon on the loose. I didn’t want you harmed.”

She stared at Avery’s handsome face. Such a shame this Adonis amongst men should turn out to be so black-hearted—it was a waste. Still, his playacting was good. Someone of a more trusting nature might have believed his words.

“If you were locking me in for my own safety, why not tell me? Instead, I find myself an unsuspecting prisoner, so give me leave to distrust anything you say. The only wicked felon hereabouts is you.”

“Unjust accusation! I didn’t tell you because I didn’t wish you to be alarmed. Young ladies of good breeding are prone to overreact in times of difficulty.”

“Did you see me overreacting the other night when the house was flooding? Did you see me overreacting yesterday when the manor was filled with strangers?”

He smirked at her. “So, what are you now then, if not overwrought? People don’t usually go around threatening the lives of those who have come to help them.”

When he took another step towards her, she straightened her arm and squeezed her finger.

The taunting smile faded. “Enough of this childishness. Give me the weapon. I need you to come with me.”

“You shall not have it.” She was proud of how firm her voice sounded. “I tire of this conversation. Turn around and leave the room slowly. Head for the stables—I’ll be following, and I expect to have my horse saddled, and to ride away without being molested.”

Avery propped his elbow on top of the firescreen and casually rested his chin on his hand. “I can see you mean business, so let’s stop this masquerade. Your mind has clearly been poisoned against me by the spy who came here in the guise of a gardener. Aye, I can tell by your face you know of whom I speak. Why you should believe the words of one so used to dissembling escapes me. You would do better to take the word of a gentleman.”

She thought about Kit’s wound. “You are no gentleman—if you were, you would not have burst uninvited into my room. But that’s the least of your crimes. I didn’t need to take his word for it—I’ve seen the evidence of your calumny myself.”

“So, it was you who released the dog. A witless act, my girl. Even more foolish of you not to flee alongside the coward. He, it seems, has more sense than you.”

“He’s no coward! You sliced into his sword arm, so what use was it for him to remain here?”

“You don’t think it spineless of him to allow you to effect his rescue and then abandon you to your fate?” Avery shook his head and tutted condescendingly.

Despite her perilous situation, Alys’ blood boiled. She waved the dag at him. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

Her rage was her undoing. The instant the gun swayed away from him, Avery acted. He hurled the firescreen at her, and when she instinctively threw up her arms, he seized the gun and threw it across the floor. Before she could draw another breath, Alys had tumbled backwards onto her bed, with Avery’s weight pinning her down.