“Why didn’t you come to me directly?” Chetwynd roared. But even as he shouted his frustration, he knew he was wrong and rushed to apologize. “No, I’m sorry, Ingram. You did the right thing. My presence would have alerted him, and it would be too difficult to follow them in the dark without being seen. You did right.”
Unable to stay still, Chetwynd paced back and forth, thinking out loud as Ingram and Matthew pressed themselves against the wall to stay out of his way in the small room.
“There has been no ransom message, but our suspect has left. What could it mean? Perhaps Marianna was mistaken and he’s not connected to the outlaws.”
“Or perhaps he left a ransom message to be delivered after he left,” Ingram said.
Chetwynd nodded. “If we don’t receive a message by morning, something has probably gone wrong with their plan. We can try to pick up their trail then. We have to wait until morning to do anything,” he concluded reluctantly. “Damnation, I may go crazy by then.”
“Morning is almost here, Chetwynd,” Ingram reminded him.
Chetwynd nodded again, then remembered Ingram’s errand. “Did you learn anything from the sheriff?”
“Not much. There have been many incidents along the roads from the south. The routes that follow both the Rhone and the Rhine Rivers have been plagued by robberies. The sheriff says there are many poor men who can’t make a living any other way.
“But in spite of that, the sheriff believes Lady Isabel’s kidnapping, by outlaws who know you by name, is different from the usual robberies along the road. He asked if you have any enemies who might wish revenge. I didn’t respond, but it’s something we should consider, my lord.”
At this suggestion, Chetwynd sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. Remembering that Matthew hadn’t eaten, Ingram sent him off to get some food and then sat down beside his friend.
Chetwynd finally lifted his head. “I have also thought about that possibility, Ingram. The help I gave the queen has earned me some powerful enemies.” Chetwynd paused and added, “And now Jerome may have been taken as well.”
“Or there could be another answer,” Ingram was quick to remind him. “Jerome may have found something and thought it best to keep an eye on things. You know the lad can take care of himself. He’s been doing that since he was a child.”
“I told him that if he found something to return and tell me about it, Ingram.”
“That’s the other thing about Jerome; he has a mind of his own. You’re always telling him to use it. If he thought it best, he might not obey your order.”
Ingram’s assessment of Jerome’s character brought a trace of a smile to Chetwynd’s face. After Ingram left him, he spent what remained of the night mulling over different scenarios of what could have happened to Isabel and Jerome.
At first light, Chetwynd and Ingram discovered Gilda and Marianna seated together in the dining hall. Both women looked up with hopeful expressions on their faces.
“Any word, my lord?” Marianna asked.
“Nothing. There is still no sign of a ransom note. We suspect the kidnappers have changed their plans. That may be good news,” Chetwynd said to cheer Marianna. “We will be leaving soon to search the area. Jerome may have returned to the aqueduct or left a message for us.”
“I’ll get ready to accompany you, my lord,” Marianna replied.
“I think it’s best you stay here with Gilda.” Then to discourage her from arguing, he added, “We can travel faster on our own.”
Although Marianna was clearly disappointed, she didn’t object. “I’ll do as you think best. Just bring her back safe.” She turned away, and Chetwynd could tell by her trembling shoulders that she was weeping.
IN THEIR HIDING PLACE ABOVE THE OUTLAW’S CAVE, Jerome and Isabel had passed a fretful night. Each had slept for a short period, but it was cold, and there was not enough space for them to lie down. To pass the time while waiting for daylight, they whispered to each other.
“I can’t believe you managed to find me,” Isabel said.
“It was just luck, my lady,” he replied.
Isabel was positive there was a great deal of skill involved. Ingram had told her that Jerome was twelve years old, yet the young squire seemed to possess an innate cunning, as well as an innocent and energetic nature.
“Tell me about your duties as a squire, Jerome,” she said, eager to learn more about the exceptional young man.
“My most important duty is caring for Lord Chetwynd’s horse, my lady. War horses are bred to do battle. They must be strong enough to carry a soldier in full armor. The care of such an animal is a great privilege, and Chetwynd’s horse is the best.”
Jerome spoke about the horse in a respectful voice that reminded Isabel of her own appreciation of the large war horses. “How long have you been in the service of Lord Chetwynd?”
“Since I had seven years. It was then he found me.”
“What do you mean, found you?”
Jerome was silent for a few seconds, and Isabel detected a reluctance to speak for the first time. She was also silent, not wishing to push him further than he wanted to go with his story.
“My parents and sisters died from a fever, and I was given to a farmer.” Jerome paused for a minute, as though making a decision; then the story poured out of him. “The farmer had too many mouths to feed. His oldest son was always stealing my share of what food there was. He beat me when his father wasn’t around. I finally ran away to the forest.”
Jerome paused again and wiggled about for a minute before continuing. “I tried
