Chetwynd’s eyes were wide with surprise as he nodded at his squire. He wondered if Ingram had known Jerome would force his way into the dungeon. “You did well, Jerome. Did the kidnapper tell you anything?”
“No, he won’t talk to us. Ingram questioned him, but he pretends to know nothing of the affair.”
One of the guards was furious that Jerome had succeeded in his efforts to speak to Chetwynd. He tried to pull Jerome away, but Justin intervened. “Wait. This lad has information King Lothar will be eager to hear.” When the guard ignored his words, Justin added, “You don’t want to be on the wrong side of Lothar. He will be angry if he can’t speak to this lad immediately.”
The guard hesitated and Justin addressed Jerome. “Where is this kidnapper?”
“Ingram and Marianna are holding him. I left them in the great hall.”
Justin turned back to Chetwynd. “Perhaps we can clear up this matter. If Lothar is innocent of any involvement as he claims, he will want to hear about the capture of the kidnapper. I’ll persuade him you should be there when he questions the man. Hopefully, that will be very soon.”
“And if Lothar’s not innocent?” Chetwynd asked.
“I think he is,” Justin said, remembering the things Lothar had said earlier. There wasn’t time to fill Chetwynd in. “You’ll have to trust me. It won’t be long now, Chetwynd,” Justin assured him.
“I do trust you. Please take Isabel out of here.”
When Isabel tried to move back to the cell, Justin took her arm. “Come with me, Isabel.” She paused and he added, “I need your support in persuading Lothar to free Chetwynd.”
Still dazed by all that had happened, Isabel was reluctant to follow her brother until Chetwynd encouraged her. “Go with Justin, my love. I will be joining you shortly.”
“What about this one?” asked the guard who still held Jerome by the arm.
“I told you, he needs to come with us,” Justin answered. “You can bring him yourself if you doubt my word.”
IT WAS ABOUT AN HOUR LATER WHEN CHETWYND was escorted into Lothar’s chambers. Gilda had insisted that Isabel rest in a chair, but Isabel had been watching the door and she leapt up, ran across the room, and threw herself into Chetwynd’s arms. He lifted her off the floor and buried his face in her hair. It seemed like forever since he had held her.
King Lothar was watching from across the chamber, and he grimaced at the sight of Chetwynd swinging Isabel into the air. “Be gentle with her,” he shouted.
Chetwynd’s face was buried in Isabel’s hair, but his head jerked up at the words. He gently lowered Isabel to the floor, but she wouldn’t release her arms from around his neck. He remembered how weak she had seemed outside his cell. “Are you injured, Isabel?”
“It’s nothing.”
Chetwynd looked at Lothar for an answer, but Justin had stepped in front of him. “Chetwynd, I hope you’ll remember what happened the last time you lost your temper,” Justin warned. “In the struggle in your cell, Isabel’s hand was cut. It’s a minor wound that has been attended to by Lothar’s physician.”
Before Justin finished his explanation, Chetwynd was gently pulling Isabel’s arms from around his neck. He saw the wrapped hand, and remembered how Lothar had been holding a knife to her neck in his cell.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked.
“No, just this small cut on my hand. It was my fault, Chetwynd,” she said, pleading with him to understand. “I should never have come to your cell. It was an accident.”
Chetwynd turned her hand over in both of his. “It was not your fault, Isabel. Does it hurt?”
“No. It’s fine, truly.”
“Good,” he replied simply. When he raised his head, he didn’t even look at Lothar. “Let’s get this over with so I can take my wife to our chambers.”
Justin nodded, and Ingram stepped forward. Chetwynd hadn’t paid attention to the others in the large room, but he became aware that Jerome and Ingram were standing beside another man. Marianna was also there, and she moved to Isabel’s side.
Ingram spoke quickly, as eager as Chetwynd to be done with the matter. “Marianna spotted this man in the great hall, my lord. I recognized him as the person Marianna pointed out to me earlier at Saint Ives as the leader of the kidnappers. We’ve tried to get him to tell us who hired him to kidnap Lady Isabel, but he pretends not to know what we’re talking about. Both Marianna and I are sure it’s the same man she saw during the kidnapping.”
There was something familiar about the man, and Chetwynd moved closer to have a better look. Although he had aged, there was still a likeness in the uneven set of his jaw to a young soldier Chetwynd remembered well. It seemed impossible that after all these years he should show up again.
“Cecil. It’s been a long time. Still in trouble, I see,” Chetwynd said. He was sure he had made the correct identification when Cecil, who had stood defiantly until he was named, lowered his eyes to the floor.
“You know this man?” Justin asked.
“Yes. Cecil and I were soldiers together serving Lord Malorvic. I last saw him eight years ago in Narbonne when he attacked an innocent maiden.”
Moving to stand beside Chetwynd, Isabel peered into the man’s face. She recognized him as the leader of the outlaws, but beyond that she had no memory of him. Although she knew the incident Chetwynd was referring to, it had been a long time ago. “How can you be sure it’s one of the men who attacked me, Chetwynd?”
Chetwynd grabbed the man’s left arm, and when Cecil tried to pull away, Ingram held him steady. Chetwynd roughly turned over his hand to show Isabel the ugly scar at the base of his thumb. That long-ago day in the meadow was a blur in Isabel’s
