Page 39 of Lord of the Manor

“Sometimes prudence must take precedence over all those things. You and your ‘uncles’ need to leave. Kennett is vengeful and spiteful—this I have learned to my cost.”

“But we can’t go. Not until we’ve found—” She bit her lip.

He narrowed his eyes. “Found what?”

“I can’t tell you now—it’s too dangerous. But it is something that could help us all. You must trust me on this.” Though she knew full well that she’d given him little reason to have faith in her. Better to change the subject.

“What may I bring you? I shall ride home and fetch whatever you need.”

“Ride?” He was looking at her askance. “Don’t tell me you came on Baldur?”

“Aye. Simpkin steered him. The boy’s here, too—he’s keeping an eye out for the constable.”

“That corrupt knave.” Allan rolled his eyes. “When I am free, I shall set about having Bulforde’s constable replaced. Nothing will convince me that he wasn’t bribed by Kennett to imprison me. They have no proof that I’ve done anything wrong. No proof at all.”

Good. Then they couldn’t keep Allan here. It pained her to see all those hurts upon him and be able to do nothing about them. And it aroused a righteous anger within her breast.

“Just tell me what you need. I’ll be back straightway.”

His eyes softened as he gazed at her. “Very well. If you are determined not to leave as yet, a stub of candle would be welcome. An additional blanket, and something to eat and drink. But don’t come yourself—’tis too dangerous. Send the items along with Simpkin.”

She was about to shake her head, but his gaze intensified. “Swear to me that you will not come back here but will lie low until you hear from me. Send Simpkin. Do you swear it?”

She nodded dumbly. A few days ago, she’d been only too eager to run from him. Now, she could hardly bear to leave him.

“Whatever happens, Cecily—and I fear I cannot predict what that might be—please know that I meant what I said that night. If fortune smiles on us, I will make you my wife, and the commandery will be yours again. You hold my heart, Mistress Cecily Neville. Pray care for it well, and treat it gently. It has been broken once before and is but barely healed.”

She couldn’t bear to look at him after that, filled with fear, shame, and guilt. She should have told him the truth far sooner, and now she’d put him in mortal danger. Yet still, he said he loved her.

“I do not deserve it,” she gulped, then turned away and stumbled across the cobbles to where Simpkin waited with Baldur.

It was not until they were halfway back to Temple Roding village that she realized her sin of omission.

Should everything fall apart, she might never see Master Allan Smythe again. So, he would never know that she returned his love.

Chapter Eighteen

Being incarcerated with nothing but the rats for company gave a man plenty of time to think. It would have been easy for Allan to slide into melancholy—he was betrayed by Cecily, abused by Kennett, and his plans were in ruins. But a vein of bloody-minded determination ran through his nature, and he was determined to resolve his difficulties. Only—it was impossible to do so from this noxious and noisome cell.

He drew out the miniature portrait of Hannah and turned it to catch what little light filtered through the bars of his prison. The gems sparkled, and the gold settings shone. His heart lurched as he gazed at the beloved face of his dead wife. Nothing would ever bring her back, but her memory would remain in his heart. God forbid he should ever forget that face.

“I need you now, more than ever, my love,” he murmured, then pressed his lips against the cold, beautiful face. “But not in a way that either of us would have imagined. This sacrifice cuts me to the bone, but I hope you’ll forgive me for making it and understand that there’s no alternative.”

He clutched his hand around the jewel and leaned against the wall of the cell, waiting. The constable must come soon to bring him bread, or to let Simpkin in when he came with that blanket Cecily had promised, and some decent vittles.

How could the woman have deceived him so? But had he ever given her any reason to trust him with her secrets? As she’d said, what had remained hidden was to protect others, not just herself. He’d given her every cause to dislike him when Kennett’s greed had forced him to claim fees for renewing the leases on the cottages. Now that he understood better how the village worked, he knew full well why that proposal would have caused hardship and why Cecily, quite justly, had opposed it.

Her experiences had made her loath to trust a stranger, particularly the one she considered to have deprived her of her home. She’d fought him with every ounce of her being—he should have suspected that when she suddenly offered her own and her “uncles’” help, it was a smokescreen for something else. But what that something was, she’d not been prepared to share with him.

She had felt so soft and sweet in his arms on that Christmas night and had answered his kisses with an innocent hunger that incited him. How fortunate that he hadn’t pursued his advantage any further, knowing what he now knew.

But she had touched something inside him, ignited a flame that would not be quenched. It was more than desire, more than admiration—it was, he very much feared—love. Which meant he must safeguard Cecily at any cost, either by giving her the protection of his name, or getting her out of danger—well away from Temple Roding and Kennett. The idea of her in that serpent’s coils was anathema. He’d rather recant his own faith and flee with her—abroad if need be—than see her a victim of that man’s cruelty and spite.

A shadow filled the window slot. “Master Smythe?”

Relief flooded through him. “Swaffham! You heard, then?”

“Aye.” Allan’s bailiff spat onto the cobbles outside. “That venomous worm Clark has bribed a crooked constable and his cronies. They have no evidence of wrongdoing on your part—only hearsay. I’ve made inquiries, and none of the villagers are prepared to support Clark’s assertions. Much of that is down to the efforts of a certain young woman—I’m sure you know who I mean—and her kin. But I expect your decision to put off charging for the leases until the spring has also influenced everyone. Clark will have to part with a great deal of coin if he is to bribe any of them to change their minds.”