with grief over the loss of a wife. No man! Why, they are too easily replaceable. Now a horse, this is another matter,' he added in a loud voice. Elizabeth reacted to his barbs with a gasp of outrage.
Now it was she who stood at the doorway with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. 'A
'Why, Elizabeth, did you chance to overhear?' he asked. His eyes laughed at her discomfort, though his voice was quiet and full of mock surprise. He grinned then, and Elizabeth knew she had been tricked.
'Do you see through walls, husband?' she asked with exasperation. She walked into the hall and came to his side, waiting for his answer.
'It would be well for you to think so,' Geoffrey answered. He winked at her, right in front of the messenger, Elizabeth realized, and she found herself blushing at his small show of affection.
'I apologize for the interruption,' she said, smiling up at him.
'And?' her husband demanded with one raised eyebrow.
'And for overhearing,' she muttered. 'Though I will most probably do it again.'
'It is undignified,' Geoffrey retorted.
'It is that,' Elizabeth admitted, 'but it is also the only way I can find put what goes on, too,' she reasoned. 'Where is this messenger from,' she asked, 'and did I miss the other?'
'You missed the other,' Geoffrey advised her, thankful that she did not know he came from Belwain, 'and I was now listening to a report concerning your 'crazed' brother-in-law, Rupert.' He could not keep the irritation out of his voice.
'Rupert!' Her voice was a whisper of anguish. Oh, poor Rupert. Elizabeth found herself overwhelmed with guilt and shame. She had not given her sister's husband a thought since the tragedy. No, she decided, she had been too wrapped up in her own grief to think of the torment he must be going through. Dear God! How would she feel if she had lost Geoffrey as Rupert had lost his love, his wife! Elizabeth bowed her head and said a silent prayer for her thoughtlessness.
'… and that is all I have to report.' The messenger's last words brought her attention back to what was being discussed.
'You have done well,' Geoffrey said. 'Go and find food and drink now.'
The messenger genuflected before Geoffrey and then left the room.
Geoffrey immediately turned to his wife and said, ' Elizabeth, tell me what you know of this Rupert.'
'I am so ashamed, Geoffrey. I should have gone to him to offer him my comfort. He was my sister's husband and I knew that Margaret and he dealt well with each other, from the way they behaved when they visited us. They were a well-matched couple, my mother used to say.'
'But what of Rupert himself?' Geoffrey asked. 'What can you tell me about him? Can he really be 'mad with grief,' ' he asked. 'Is he so weak that he cannot leave his room to see his wife's grave?' There was ridicule in Geoffrey's voice and Elizabeth shook her head, saddened by his questions, his tone.
'You do not understand,' she whispered. And now I fully know the difficulty in your nature, she thought. You do not love me, else you would comprehend. A weight, like a stone, lodged against her heart, and Elizabeth turned away from her husband so that he could not see the sorrow in her eyes.
Geoffrey misunderstood his wife's obvious withdrawal, incorrectly assuming that discussion of her relatives opened the wound she was trying so hard to cover. He placed his hand on her shoulder and slowly turned her to face him once again. 'Tell me the story of what took place here once again, Elizabeth. I know that it is painful for you and I am sorry, but I have need to hear it all again. To make sure,' he said. Elizabeth puzzled over his last words and wished he had not asked her. 'Will my telling you help you understand something?' she asked. Geoffrey nodded, and Elizabeth added, 'Then I will tell you.' She took a calming breath and closed her eyes and repeated her story. Geoffrey did not interrupt once and she was thankful he did not, as she wished to finish as quickly as possible. When she was done, she looked up into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts, his conclusions.
'You have left something out,' Geoffrey said, rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner.
'What is that?' Elizabeth asked, frowning.
'Before, with the first telling, you said that one of the men wearing the hoods was injured… stabbed, I think you said.'
'Yes, I did forget that,' Elizabeth answered. 'Margaret stabbed him. Why? Is that important?'
'Perhaps. Where did she stab him?' he asked, his voice casual, his eyes alert.
Elizabeth concentrated and pictured the scene again, trying to keep herself as detached as possible. In her mind she saw Margaret turn and raise her dagger and… 'Just below the shoulder, the right shoulder. I saw the blood come through the cloth.' She looked again at Geoffrey but found no answer in his gaze. 'What are you thinking?' she asked.
'Not now,' he hedged. 'But when I return from my journey you will have your answers.'
'Always you ask me to wait,' Elizabeth said, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.
'You have given me your trust,' Geoffrey reminded her. He almost added that she had pledged him her love too, but decided not to bring that subject up again. 'You have made a pledge to me,' he substituted instead.
But I have made a pledge to my parents and my sisters too, she argued to herself. Should they not come before her pledge to her husband? She sighed with weariness. If only he could understand her position, she thought.
'I made another pledge,' she whispered. She turned before her husband could respond and hurried out of the room. There was much she had to consider, and she needed to be alone. She went back to the bedroom and sat down on the bed. Have I become obsessed with my vengeance? she asked herself. Is it so wrong to want justice so that their souls will reach heaven?
The sobs caught her by surprise. She couldn't hold them back any longer. She buried her face in the covers and cried until she was exhausted, weeping for the loss of her family. I will not fail you, she told her parents, her sisters. I will find a way to bring justice so that you may rest in peace. The vow was barely repeated in her mind when the idea took hold. Rupert! She would go to him, pull him from his grief with her knowledge of her uncle's treachery. Aye, she would give him cause to leave his room. She would give him her vengeance. The transfer of the vow would also, she admitted, leave her free.
Vengeance had kept her sane when she would have elsewise gone mad, it would do the same for him, Elizabeth decided. It would give him purpose. Rupert would vow revenge and was strong enough to challenge Belwain for the truth. He would not be so concerned with the law, Elizabeth thought.
She dried her eyes and bounded off the bed. There was much to do, and before the day was over. She must convince Hammond to accompany her and order him to find another willing to aid her. He would do it, she thought with determination, if she threatened to go alone. And he would not betray her to Geoffrey either. No, she thought, he is loyal to me first.
She would leave as soon as Geoffrey and his men were on their way, early tomorrow morning. And it wasn't such a great distance to Rupert's home, not if she could remember the way of the cut-through her father had chanced upon. With any luck she would be back before Geoffrey returned. She hadn't a hope that her absence would go unnoticed by the men he left behind, but by then it would be too late and the deed would have been done.
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth soaked in the wooden tub of steaming, rose-scented water for a long while. Geoffrey had washed and changed and she sent him away to the dinner table with a wave of dismissal. 'I will join you shortly,' she promised with a wink.
'Perhaps I will join you now,' Geoffrey teased, hesitating at the door. He wanted to stay and gave her a look that told her as much.
'You cannot,' Elizabeth replied, laughing. 'Your men and my grandfather wait for you. If you are late, they would know what we… my grandfather would guess…'
Geoffrey threw his head back and laughed at her discomfort.
The wet rag hit his forehead and he was forced to pull Elizabeth from the tub and give her a long kiss. 'Until
