Page 37 of Lord of Loyalty

“Sir. Permit me.” Without waiting for an answer, Manners extracted Will from Maybury’s grasp, inserted his own beefy shoulder below Will’s armpit, and started to heft him up the stairs.

“Forgive me, Isobel,” Will called down as Manners bore him aloft. “I didn’t make it as far as Hertford, but shall go another time.”

She must go up, too, see him settled into his bed, and ensure Manners didn’t hurt him. But she’d barely stirred when Maybury’s hand came on her elbow.

“Mistress Marston, may we talk? Do you think Will’s housekeeper might order us some refreshment?”

Goodwife Cooper curtseyed. “I can bring forth the remnants of our supper, sir. Will you take it in the parlor?”

Isobel was loath to leave Will, but Maybury’s expression brooked no argument. As soon as they were settled either side of the hearth in the parlor, his face softened.

“I thought it meet I explain what happened.”

She leaned forward, clutching her hands together. “Is he badly hurt?”

“Not so badly. Ah, I thank you.” Maybury took charge of the platter of cold ham, spiced apple conserve, and manchet that was brought in. He poured two cups of ale, handed one to Isobel and asked, “Will you break bread with me?”

“Nay, I thank you, sir.” She couldn’t touch a morsel—her throat was so dry, any food would wedge in it. Will’s reappearance, and in such a condition, had shocked her. The ale, however, was more than welcome.

Maybury sat back and chewed for a moment, then took a deep swig of his drink. She sipped hers. But rapidly.

“I came upon Cavendish on the road, being attacked by two masked brigands. He was giving good account of himself, but two against one is not good odds, and he had no sword, so they must have taken him by surprise. I pummeled one of those gutter-spawn into a heap and relieved the other of his knife. Seemed keen to do Will some damage with it, so I thought it best.”

Isobel helped herself to another cup of ale. What if Maybury hadn’t happened along when he did? Her heart pumped like a pair of bellows at the thought.

“What happened then?”

“Oh, he grabbed one of the fiends by the collar, and I the other. We brought their heads together with a crack you could hear for miles.” Maybury chuckled. “Then I helped Will onto his horse, took him back to my home, and sent for our local constable.”

“So, the perpetrators are now in custody?”

“In a cell, aye. But Will was keen to have them questioned as soon as may be. Said he knew ’twas no random attack. Thought he might know who was behind it.”

She suspected she might, too. The idea froze her blood.

“Take some ham, Mistress Marston—you need sustenance. I understand your feelings—Will has explained your circumstances to me in full.”

“I’m sorry you’ve become entangled in our hazardous affairs, sir.”

“Think no more of it. My life has been dull since the death of my beloved wife. Nothing like a little derring-do to add spice to the day. We’re now co-conspirators, Mistress Marston. If you have need of me, you’ll know where to find me. But knock at the manor house, not the cottage, and I shall find you much better accommodation than you had before.”

She rose from her chair. “I should like to see that Will is settled. Forgive my lack of manners, but as it was in my cause that he was thus injured, I feel it my duty to take care of him.”

“He won’t take long to mend. The worst of it was that his old wound was opened up. Just when it was healing—I could tell from his face, the pain was excruciating, but he bore it well. The blood loss has weakened him a little, but I’m sure you have simples here to strengthen him again. He never did vouchsafe the origins of his thigh injury. I don’t suppose you have the answer to that riddle?”

She shook her head. “Alas—’tis not my secret to reveal.” She reached for the latch, eager to be with Will and learn the true extent of his injuries.

Maybury tapped the side of his nose. “No matter. Your loyalty does you credit. I hope I shall see you before we retire to our beds this night, when we may talk of lighter matters.”

“Indeed.” She curtseyed, and left, then hastened up the stairs to see Will.

But it was not to be. Manners had stationed himself outside his master’s room, and in response to her look of entreaty, lowered his voice, saying, “He’s sleeping, Mistress. Goody Cooper gave him a draught to dull the pain, so ’tis best not to disturb him. I’m sorry.”

Despite the unfamiliar softness in his voice, Manners’ resolve was solid as a rock. He folded his arms across his barrel of a chest and gazed at her.

She lifted her chin. Manners knew she was no foreign servant, and it was about time he treated her according to her rank.

“When he wakes, I’d be much obliged if you’d send me word. Whether it be day or night. I shall be in my chamber.”

Looking somewhat startled, the man nodded.

She ascended the stairs to the attic, doing her best not to look defeated. If Will had need of her, she would be there, Manners or not. For she knew with utter certainty, she couldn’t leave the house on Giles Street without seeing Will one last time.