Page 61 of Lord of Deception

Chapter Forty-Seven

Alys drew a hand across her mouth, then wiped her sweaty palm on her gown. What did they have planned for her? Was this Kate exacting her revenge?

“Will you show me no mercy, Coz? I came here to help, and this is how you repay me.”

Kate thrust Norris away and stalked over to Alys’ corner as she tried once more to rise.

A hard slap of Kate’s hand knocked Alys to the floor again, where she sat in a miserable heap, head spinning.

“Mercy?” Kate stood over her, hands on hips. “I have shown you enough already. Who took you in when your parents died of the sweating sickness? I did. What a pathetic creature you were then. And still are. Good little Alys, God-fearing Alys, who felt so sorry for herself yet was more than happy to chide me for my actions.”

Kate whipped around and started pacing. “Despite the poor quality clay you were made from, I kept you occupied, taught you to how keep house, fed and clothed you as becomes a gentlewoman. But it was too much like hard work for you, wasn’t it? You thought me cruel, when all the time, I was deliberately shaping you into a woman of character, someone worth knowing. What did you know of life before you came to me? Nothing.”

Alys found her voice. “That’s not true, I—”

“Silence! Interrupt, and I’ll knock you senseless. You mewl about your sufferings, your penury, your lack of a husband, my behavior. Did it never occur to you that I might have suffered, too? For the loss of my husband, for the ungodly strictures put upon my faith by an apostate queen? A queen who would have been toppled—and the nation’s conscience salved—if it hadn’t been for you. Now Mary of the Scots will die, and England will be plunged into a bloody war—all because you were gulled by a milksop peer posing as a gardener’s boy. Hah! ’Twould be laughable were the results not so tragic.”

Her head swung back and forth as she spoke, like a snake eyeing up its victim, ready to strike the paralyzing blow. Fury at the injustice of Kate’s accusations brought Alys to her feet once more, ready to do battle, but Norris stepped between them, thrusting the cloak he’d lent Alys at Kate.

“There’s no more time for words—we must be gone. Cover your hair with the hood and pull it well forward of your face. I’ll deal with your cousin.”

Alys froze as he drew a slender dagger from beneath his cloak. Time slowed down and fear weighted her limbs as something covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream. There were strange sounds in the room, but they seemed to be miles away, having nothing to do with her. All her senses were concentrated on that blade, that thin sliver of metal that dealt death in a single blow.

If only she’d brought a weapon when she left the court with Norris—she should have learned that much by now. Summoning all her strength, she thrashed about in his grasp, broke free and tried to run, but as in a nightmare, her legs would not support her.

Suddenly, the air was filled with movement and noise, and Kit was there, knocking Norris off his feet, and drawing a knife on him.

She took in a searing breath, then another. The nausea returned, fueled by the sight of Kit, locked in combat with Norris, forcing back the hand that held the needle-sharp blade as he tried to bring his own into play. He ought to have the upper hand, having the element of surprise in his favor. Also, he was the taller of the two, boasting more muscle than the slight Norris.

Shrieking with fury, Kate leapt onto Kit’s back, locking her hands in a choking grip around his throat, trying to bear him down. He staggered and attempted to shake her off, but that brief distraction allowed Norris to sink his blade into Kit’s thigh.

As the blood spurted, Alys found a new strength, born from sheer rage that this traitor had spilled Kit’s precious blood. She picked up the wine bottle she’d brought, hurled herself at Kate and landed a crushing blow on her head.

Kate collapsed like a house of cards, and as Norris darted aside to avoid a blow from Kit, he tripped over her. Kit’s knife caught him on the cheek, slicing it open from chin to temple. Norris roared out in pain and, at the same moment, a host of armed men hurtled into the room. Recognizing them as yeomen and warders, Alys fell back against the wall, certain the ordeal was now nearly over.

Kit stepped away from his opponent, wiping his blade clean of Norris’ blood, a look of disgust on his face. The guard who’d been threatened with Norris’ knife dealt him a few bruising kicks before clapping him in irons. He shackled Kate, too, even though she was barely conscious.

But none of this really mattered. Everything blurred into the background as she stared at Kit, quailing at the look of betrayal on his face.