to try. Tell them to go back to the king and tell him that William de Braose will fight him first.”
“
“Yes! I have had enough of going in fear, begging and cringing. Tell them that, steward. De Braose will fight!”
The king’s messengers rode away without much argument, but it was obvious they would soon return with reinforcements.
Adam left as soon as the coast was clear. “I cannot agree with what you’re doing, William. It’s treason,” he said before he rode away. “You must ask the king’s pardon and submit to him.” But William would not listen. The days of fear and pleading were over. With his family behind him at last, he felt confident he could repair his self- esteem. When a detachment of the king’s troops arrived at Hay to try to carry out the arrests, he repelled them with something like a grim good humor, hurling insults after them when three days later they rode away to the east.
Nick jerked upright in his chair. So they thought they could fight him, the fools! How could de Braose be so arrogant; how could she be so proud, so stubborn…
He stared around, disoriented. The others were sitting in silence, each deep in his own thoughts, Jo gazing blankly out into the darkness.
“Are you all right, Nick?” Ben leaned forward and touched his arm.
Nick forced himself to smile. On the table, the candle had burned so low the wick floated in a small pool of liquid wax. “Sorry.” He took a deep breath. “I must have been asleep. I’m a bit jet-lagged, I suppose.”
“And tired. It is midnight, after all. Come on.” Ben stood up. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”
Nick rose to his feet unsteadily, still grasping for reality. He hesitated for a moment then he dropped a kiss on Jo’s forehead. “Good night,” he murmured.
Jo and Ann watched him follow Ben into the house. Then Ann got up.
“We’re putting him in the apple loft, Jo. It makes a lovely bedroom in the summer. Unless you want to sleep together?”
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Ben wearily pulled off his socks. “I’ll never be able to get up for milking.” He groaned.
Ann grinned. “Go on. You always say you only need two hours’ sleep.”
“I do. But they’ve got to be the right two hours, and that’s about ten o’clock.” He stood up and began to take off his trousers. “What do you make of the boyfriend?”
Ann had been brushing her hair. Her hand stopped in midstroke. “He frightens me.”
“Frightens you?” Ben repeated incredulously. “I thought he was a decent sort. Very decent. And they obviously love each other. Once they’ve got this peculiar business settled, they’ll be fine.”
Ann shook her head slowly. “It’s not as easy as that, Ben. I told Nick there was no way he could have been given posthypnotic suggestions to make him hurt Jo or do anything he didn’t want to, but that wasn’t strictly true. If his brother is anything like as clever as I think he is, he will have found a way around Nick’s natural inhibitions easily. Nick and Jo have reason to be afraid, Ben. I think he has planted posthypnotic suggestions in both their minds. I think he is playing them against each other for some reason I cannot even begin to guess, and he’s so sure they’ll work he can brag about them to Nick.” She shivered suddenly. “The awful thing is, I think they might work all too well, whatever they are.”
Ann couldn’t sleep. For more than an hour she tossed and turned beside Ben, who always slept at once, flat on his back, relaxed and seemingly dreamless, then she got up. She pulled on a silk kimono over her cotton nightgown and tiptoed out of the room. The children were sleeping soundlessly in their bedroom beneath the sloping roof. Bill, who still slept like a baby, on his back, his arms above his head; Polly curled in the fetal position, her thumb firmly plugged into her mouth, the two golden heads still and angelic. She crept out of the room and closed the door silently.
The kitchen was still hot from the woodburning stove. She lit a lamp then opened the door of the firebox quietly and threw in a log. It would be nice to have hot water for the morning. Often in the summer she didn’t bother…
“There wouldn’t be a chance of a cup of tea, would there?” The voice from the end of the dark sitting room made her jump nearly out of her skin.
Nick rose from the shadows and came toward her.
“Of course.” She glanced at him curiously. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans. His top was bare, as were his feet.
“Sorry if I frightened you. I think I’m too tired to sleep. My brain is whirling in ever-decreasing circles.” He perched on a stool at the edge of the lamplight. “I took off my watch. Do you know what time it is?”
“After three.” Ann filled the kettle and put it on the stove. “It’ll take a while to boil. The fire was nearly down.”
“I want you to hypnotize me, Ann.” Nick leaned forward suddenly. He reached out a hand toward her. “I must find out the truth. Please.”
“Are you sure you want to know the truth?” She surveyed him solemnly. Then almost without knowing she had done it she took his hand. She squeezed it lightly and then drew away.
He nodded. “If Sam has planted any ideas in my head I want you to find out what they are and kill them, do you understand?”
“Nick.” She began to pace up and down the floor slowly, her arms folded, her bare feet kicking the silk of the kimono into a rhythmic billowing pattern over the stone flags. “There are things you must understand. Posthypnotic suggestion-if that is what we are discussing-is a strange and inexact science. I don’t know what your brother might have suggested. Neither do I know what safeguards and conditions he may have imposed.”
“He has suggested that I was King John of England in a previous life. He has suggested that as John I was in love with Matilda de Braose. I think he has suggested that I killed her-or ordered her death-because she rejected me, and I think he has suggested I kill Jo as some sort of crazy revenge.” He took a deep breath. “Did Jo tell you that I have already hurt her? Twice.”
Ann sucked in her breath. “No, she didn’t tell me that.” She stared at him: at the handsome, strong face, the determined chin, the firm blue eyes beneath straight brows, the broad muscular shoulders of a sportsman, strong arms, slim hips. She closed her eyes. He was unquestionably a strong man. A man who could easily overpower any woman if he chose. And he was an attractive man. Very attractive…She saw the slight smile on his lips and dragged her eyes away from him quickly. Christ! She was supposed to be the hypnotist! She shivered again.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Yes,” she said, “I’ll try.”
Quietly Sam let himself back into Nick’s apartment. He put his bag down in the hall and stood still, listening. There was no sound. Even the noise of traffic was silent at this hour, the occasional cars in Park Lane muffled by the closed windows. He walked quietly forward and peered into Nick’s bedroom. It was empty, as he had known it would be. A quiet check on the other rooms proved Nick wasn’t there either. Smiling to himself, he switched on the lamp in the living room and walked over to the windows. For a moment he stood still, staring at his own dark reflection in the glass, thrown into relief by the single bulb, then he reached up and drew the curtains together with a sharp rattle. He turned and looked around.
It was a large rectangular room, the polished wood floor carpeted with brightly colored rugs. The walls were covered with paintings and drawings-one of them a sketch of Jo. Sam stood in front of it for a moment, considering it. It wasn’t good. It did not do her justice.
Behind him the phone rang. He turned and looked at it, then he glanced at his watch. It was four in the
