Cast Love Aside Page 5

  She found climbing the net much more difficult than she expected. But with Magnus beside her, she felt safe until, halfway up the side of the ship, she disobeyed him for the second time and glanced downward again.

  This time the view was very different. With no one holding the rowboat close to the Daisy, it had drifted free to swing at the end of the line Braedon had secured, so it trailed some distance after the larger vessel. Thus, when Lilianne looked down all she saw was black, oily water swirling far below. To make matters worse, someone on deck shouted a command to raise the anchor. Winches groaned and the Daisy began to swing around. Lilianne gulped, clinging to the net and unable to move or cry out.

  “Don't stop.” Magnus's voice was stern. “Keep climbing.”

  As soon as she was capable of once again making a sound, she intended to tell him that she couldn't move another inch. But just as she opened her mouth, Magnus reached her level on the net. Almost casually he laid his left arm across her back to twist his hand into the net below her left shoulder. His left hip and thigh pressed hard against her trembling form.

  “I told you not to look down,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course I am,” she cried, trying to disguise the tremor in her voice. “Why would you think otherwise?”

  “Because you’re afraid of falling into the water.”

  “I am not!” she declared, hoping he wouldn't realize she was lying.

  “Move up the net,” Magnus told her.

  Flustered by his remarkably intimate closeness, which she found entirely too disturbing, Lilianne began to climb again. She told herself she was eager to get away from Magnus. She didn't know he intended to climb with her. As she dragged herself upward he unwound his hand from the net and let it stroke along her back to her waist. She felt the weight of it through all the layers of her woolen clothing. She caught her breath and paused again.

  “Go on,” Magnus urged. “I cannot hold you and guide Erland along at the same time. Since you are awake and he is not, you must be the one to move.”

  “I know.” She turned her head as she spoke. The movement brought her lips almost to his mouth. Magnus's breath was warm on her cheek. She clutched at the net a little harder. A sudden sharp jab in her hand broke the spell of closeness. Lilianne cried out in pain.

  “What now?” Magnus demanded, sounding distinctly annoyed.

  “It's nothing. Just a splinter.”

  “See to it later,” he commanded. “This is not the place.”

  Without another word she scrambled upward, trying not to notice the way Magnus's hand remained at her waist for a moment, as if to guide her and offer unspoken support. As she moved away from him, his hand slid down, over her hip, thigh and calf. The touch of his calloused fingers on her naked ankle shocked her senses. Lilianne bit her lip to keep herself from crying out in a different kind of reaction from the pain caused by the splinter in her hand.

  Above her, Braedon was already on the deck of the Daisy. Leaning over the railing he caught Alice's arms to help her up the last few feet of net. Once Alice was standing on the deck Braedon left her to William's care while he reached down again to wrap his hands around Lilianne's wrists.

  “You can do it,” Braedon encouraged her. “It's not far now.”

  While Lilianne made the final effort, Magnus climbed past her and flipped himself over the rail as lightly as any tumbler performing his act. Lilianne forgot her aching arms and her fear of falling long enough to marvel once again at his supple strength. Magnus elbowed Braedon aside to catch Lilianne around her waist as she clambered over the rail. He steadied her until she found her footing on the sloping deck, then released her and stepped away.

  Braedon and William already had Erland free of the rope. Holding him by his shoulders and feet, they carried him to a hatchway. Alice was right behind them, staying close to William.

  “Go below with your uncle,” Magnus commanded when Lilianne lingered on deck.

  “Why?” she demanded. She was growing tired of the way he ordered her around. Magnus was kinder than her uncle ever was when issuing orders, and so far whatever he'd told her to do made good sense, but even so, she did not like anyone snapping commands at her.

  “It’s cold and wet on deck,” Magnus said in response to her rudely posed question. “You will be more comfortable below. Alice may need your assistance.”

  “I prefer the fresh air up here.” He was right about Alice, but Lilianne wasn't going to go below meekly.

  “As you wish, my lady. At least put your shoes on.” With an indifferent shrug Magnus turned away from her.

  Lilianne decided it wasn't a good time to remind him about the splinter in her hand. His close presence had distracted her from the discomfort, but now the wound ached. Sitting down on a coil of rope, she hastily pulled on her stockings and shoes while she tried to decide whether to go below as Magnus wanted, or stay above, where the air was surely cleaner, despite the odor of fish. She could imagine what the smell was doing to poor Alice.

  Magnus showed no sign of following his companions through the hatch. He remained at the rail, staring through the fog as if he was looking for something important, something that lay back in France.

  Her consideration of Magnus's brooding figure was interrupted by the arrival of a burley man who wore a brilliant blue tunic and bright red leather boots that rose so high on his thighs that she wondered if they’d been cobbled for someone else.

  “Yer late, Sir Magnus,” the newcomer said, approaching with a rolling gait that bespoke years spent at sea. He was barely as tall as Magnus's shoulder but his broad figure suggested hidden strength and he showed no indication of humility.

  “We were delayed ashore,” Magnus said, reverting to the brief, clipped sentences he had used when Lilianne first met him.

  “Aye, that's clear enough,” the burly man responded with a scowl. “An' ye brought two females aboard, along with yer prisoner. I'll have ye know, I keep an honest ship, me foine laddie. I'll not tolerate misbehavior.”

  “The ladies are under my protection,” Magnus stated firmly. “When we reach England, they will be handed into Lord Royce's protection. Since Royce is the man who hired you, I suggest you address any complaints directly to him.”

  “You must be Captain Piers.” Pretending that her wet skirts were not still hiked up far enough to reveal her legs to her knees, Lilianne stepped forward with outstretched hand and her brightest smile. “I am honored to meet you, sir. I promise I will do my best to see that our presence doesn't inconvenience you. I believe Lady Alice will choose to remain below for the entire voyage. I, on the other hand, have always enjoyed travel by sea. Oh, I do beg your pardon, Captain; you don't know me. I am Lady Lilianne de Sainte Inge.”

  “Are ye, now?” Captain Piers looked her over from her toes to the top of her head, which towered a good half foot above his. Then he grinned and accepted her hand, bowing over it with the air of a great nobleman. “Yer welcome aboard the Daisy, my lady, so long as ye cause no trouble.”

  “I assure you, Captain Piers, you will scarcely know Lady Alice and I are aboard,” Lilianne said.

  Magnus doubted that. Lilianne's rosy face was moist from the fog. The dampness made her thick eyelashes stick together in a way that left him longing to kiss her lids until the lashes separated again. As for her hair, it was curling furiously around her face and shoulders. A few tendrils clung to her forehead and a single, beguiling curl lay against her damp cheek.

  A woman who looked the way Lilianne did could easily cause a riot among Captain Piers's sailors.

  “My lady, I believe you were about to go below,” Magnus said pointedly, “to see if Lady Alice is feeling better.”

  “What's this?” Captain Piers exclaimed, his rough charm vanishing in an instant. “Are ye sayin' the other woman is sick? Ye'd bring illness aboard my ship?”

  “Oh, she's not contagious,” Lilianne said before Magnus could speak again. With a soft giggle she added, “Lady Alice
has a weak stomach and the motion of that little rowboat – well, Captain Piers, I'm sure a man of your vast experience has seen many people who cannot bear to be at sea. As for me, I am never ill. Now, if you gentlemen will kindly excuse me, I'll see if Lady Alice needs anything.”

  Lilianne spun around quickly, setting her skirts swirling above her trim ankles and neatly curved calves, and made for the hatch through which Alice and the men had disappeared.

  Magnus gazed after her with a mixture of longing and bemusement. Lilianne, giggling like a silly young girl? Not likely! That tall, glorious witch had deliberately enchanted Captain Piers, who looked as if he'd been knocked on the head by a swinging yardarm. Magnus was certain the captain would make no further objections to the presence of women aboard the Daisy.

  Lilianne found her uncle lying on a narrow bunk, with his hands and feet still tied. His captors were wisely taking no chances that he'd awaken and find a way to escape them.

  Across the cabin from Erland, Alice lay stretched out on the second bunk with a cloth over her eyes. Braedon was standing guard outside the cabin door, and William sat upright and watchful at the foot of Alice's bunk.

  “I think she's sleeping,” William said when Lilianne entered and looked from Alice to him with a silent question on her lips.

  “I'll stay with her,” Lilianne offered. “Magnus wants me safely below, anyway, so it’s no trouble.”

  “I do want to speak with Magnus,” William said.

  “Then, be gone with you,” Lilianne told him with a smile. “Erland can't do anything nefarious so long as he's tied, and I promise to call Braedon if he wakens.”

  Lilianne didn't add that she wished Erland would waken, so she could question him before calling anyone. The moment he opened his eyes, she was going to insist that he tell her where Gilbert was hidden. He had refused her demand so many times in the past few weeks that she was reasonably sure he'd give the same answer as always. But this time Erland was alone, without Norbard or any of the rest of his men-at-arms for protection against her outrage, whereas she now had three strong knights to back up her demands. In addition, Lord Royce, whoever he might be, was waiting in England and would doubtless have his own methods of extracting information. She could threaten Erland with that.

  She had been so angry with her uncle for so long that she really didn't care how he was made to talk. If a bit of judiciously applied violence was required, so much the better. The thought made her shiver, but she set her jaw grimly. Except for Erland, whom she refused to count as kin after the way he'd treated his niece and nephew, Gilbert was Lilianne's only living relative. She vowed once more that she'd see him released from their uncle's guardianship and restored to his lands and his rightful estate.

  As for Magnus – she couldn't think about Magnus, didn't dare think about him. He affected her as no other man ever had, and she couldn't decide whether it was because he was the first man she'd met who was taller than she was, or because she sensed that his strength of will matched her own.

  She reminded herself that she was the daughter of a French nobleman and the sister of the present lord of Manoir Sainte Inge. She knew nothing of Magnus's family, or of his title – assuming he held a title – and she knew even less of his true purpose in abducting her uncle. She was sure Magnus had deliberately withheld much from her.

  And, finally, he was English. That fact alone should have put him beyond her consideration, for the kings of France and of England were almost constantly at war with each other. But when she recalled how Magnus had made her feel when he lifted her high in his arms as if she was feather-light, with her arms around his neck and his face close to hers, she knew whoever or whatever Magnus truly was, she was never going to forget him.

  Chapter 4

  William returned sooner than Lilianne expected. Saying it was his responsibility to guard Erland and that he could easily look after Alice at the same time, he suggested Lilianne try to rest in the cabin next door.

  She was too excited to think of sleep, but she could tell William relished the notion of caring for Alice, so she agreed to his offer. A quick glance into the neighboring cabin showed it to be half the size of the room where Erland and Alice lay.

  “I'll go mad in that tiny space,” she told Braedon, who was still on guard at Erland's door.

  Magnus wants you to stay below,” Braedon said. “Lady Lilianne, come back here at once!”

  Ignoring him, Lilianne headed up the ladder to the open deck. She didn’t think he’d follow her. Magnus had assigned Braedon to his post and, if she had judged his character rightly, he wasn’t likely to desert.

  She arrived on deck to find that a breeze had come up to blow the fishy smell away. The fog was gone, too. Only a faint haze lingered far astern and the moon shone brightly, adding to the afterglow that tinted the western sky. The waters of the Narrow Sea were a dark shade, neither blue nor black. Three or four sailors were on deck, and Lilianne noticed the sturdy figure of Captain Piers at the wheel.

  What drew and held her attention was the tall, unmistakable form standing at the railing. Magnus wasn't looking ahead toward England, but backward, in the direction of France, just as he'd done earlier. And again, his posture made her imagine that he had left something important back there, something he was longing to return and retrieve.

  Telling herself she was being overly fanciful, Lilianne pulled her cloak tighter against the breeze and went to stand at the rail next to him.

  “I believe I ought to question your purpose in abducting Uncle Erland,” she said, launching directly into the subject that most interested her. “Who are you, really, and what do you want with him?”

  “That’s two questions in one.”

  “Tell me the truth, Magnus.”

  Her quiet demand elicited a sigh, followed by a tense silence. Lilianne waited.

  “Braedon, William, and I have been assigned to deliver Erland to Lord Royce of Wortham,” Magnus finally said.

  “Why?”

  “The plan is to exchange Erland for an English spy who’s being held in France.”

  “Who is Lord Royce, that he can order a nobleman’s abduction?”

  “A friend of King Henry.”

  “You mean,” she said after a moment’s thought, “he’s a spy, too, like Erland.”

  “Spymaster,” Magnus corrected her.

  “And who is the spy Lord Royce wants released?”

  “Sir Desmond of Ashendown.” The words seemed forced from Magnus’ lips. As if he knew what her next question would be, he added with obvious reluctance, “Desmond is my twin brother.”

  “Merciful heaven! No wonder you’re so distressed.”

  “I won’t discuss Desmond,” Magnus said, closing the subject with chilling firmness.

  “You should be asleep,” he added without turning his face from contemplation of where they had been. “Tomorrow will be a long and trying day.”

  “How can I possibly sleep? I have too much on my mind.”

  “Do you regret helping us?” He took his gaze from the misty horizon to look at her.

  “Not so long as you keep your promise to find out where my brother is.”

  “I always keep my promises.”

  “I wasn't implying that you don't,” she said hastily, uncertain of his mood and not wanting to irk him. “It's just that I worry about Gilbert every day and every night. Especially at night, when I have no distractions and when I know he must be lying in the dark, wondering where and how I am.”

  “You understand, don't you, that since your uncle is Gilbert's guardian, he has the right to dispose of the boy as he wishes?”

  “I do understand. It's the word, dispose, that frightens me,” Lilianne said. “You see, my father was Uncle Erland's only brother, which means Uncle Erland is Gilbert's heir. If anything -” She couldn't go on. While she stood blinking back tears, Magnus's big hand covered hers where it rested on the railing.

  “Aye,” Magnus said quietly, and went on to finish he
r frightened thought. “If anything dire should happen to Gilbert before he has a son of his own, Erland will inherit Manoir Sainte Inge. King Louis will doubtless confirm Erland in the inheritance. Erland is useful to him, there at the seacoast and so near to Calais.

  “Gilbert doesn't even have to die,” Magnus continued. “He just has to remain tucked away somewhere, so Erland can claim the boy is too weak or too ill to carry out his duties as lord of Sainte Inge.”

  “It would be far more convenient for him if my brother were dead.” Lilianne uttered the stark fact in a trembling voice.

  “Gilbert should be safe so long as we hold Erland,” Magnus said. “For obvious reasons, we will prevent him from sending messages to France.”

  “What if he has already given an order? What if that's why Norbard is away from Manoir Sainte Inge? Norbard boasts that he always obeys Uncle Erland's commands without question or hesitation.” Lilianne couldn't control her emotions any longer. Her voice cracked on a sob. Not wanting to weep in front of Magnus, she gripped the rail more tightly, forcing back the tears and transferring her despair to the solid wood..

  “Oh!” She had all but forgotten about the bit of wood caught in the base of her thumb, until the movement of her hand on the railing drove it deeper into the tender flesh. When she sucked at the sore spot, Magnus took her hand and turned it over to look at it.

  “In this light I can't see what's wrong,” he said. “Come with me to the hatch, where the lantern is.” Gently but firmly, he drew her away from the rail.

  “It's just a splinter.” She wished her voice wouldn't quaver so. She wished she could prevent the tears from falling. Most of all, she wished Gilbert were safe and their father were alive again, so her brother could be a child rather than a nobleman, and she could stop worrying all the time.

  “Just a splinter?” Magnus said, turning her hand toward the lantern light. “A large piece of the rowboat is jammed into your thumb. Will you trust me to remove it?”