Page 94 of The Unwilling Bride
“Thank God you’re here,” Merrick murmured as his gaze searched her happy face.
Ranulf tapped Merrick on the shoulder and nodded at the group of men watching them. “Have we interrupted a counsel?”
Merrick forced his attention away from Constance. “Yes. Come, I’ll introduce you.”
Ranulf didn’t immediately follow. “Where are Lord Carrell and Lord Algernon?”
Constance quickly surveyed the gathering, seeking their villainous relatives. She couldn’t see the uncles, but a frowning Kiernan was among the group, his father beside him.
Merrick’s brow furrowed. “They were here.”
“They can’t be permitted to leave,” Ranulf urged. “They’re conspiring against you and the king and the earl.”
Merrick’s eyes flashed. “What evidence—?”
“Henry sent me letters that he intercepted bearing Lord Carrell’s signature and seal. They’re damning, Merrick.”
“Your father often accused his brothers of wanting tosteal Tregellas,” Constance added, “and being willing to do anything to get it. I thought it was just his usual raving, or suspicions deepened by his final illness, but I believe Henry has indeed discovered proof of a conspiracy.”
“Henry attacked—”
“He was helping me escape from the fighting, trying to take me to a safe place. I wanted to tell you in the monastery, but you left before I was able.”
Merrick blanched. “Oh, God. What have I done?”
“Lord Merrick,” called out a tall, well-made man seated on a brightly cushioned chair. “Are you not going to tell us who these people are?”
Constance had never met the earl of Cornwall, but she was sure she was looking at him now.
“Yes…no…I must go, my lord,” her husband replied, more incoherent than Constance would ever have believed possible. “You must excuse me.”
He turned on his heel and ran out of the hall. As Constance and Ranulf stared after him, Kiernan’s voice broke the shocked silence. “That is Lord Merrick’s wife, my lord, and that other fellow is his garrison commander.”
Pride and anger fired in Constance. Taking Ranulf’s arm, she advanced toward the earl and the other powerful noblemen gathered around him.
“I am Lady Constance of Tregellas, my lord earl,” she announced. “And this is my husband’s most loyal and trusted friend, Sir Ranulf. We come to bring you proof of a conspiracy against you and your brother the king.”
A SOUND OUTSIDE THE CHAMBER caught Henry’s ear. Lifting his head, he listened closely. Was it a jailer bringing food? Guards coming to take him to his execution?
A slow, torturous death more like.
Maybe it was just the rats. If they were looking for food, they wouldn’t find any here, unless they considered him food.
Henry curled his lip in disgust, making it bleed again. He licked away the warm, coppery liquid and decided that if he had to die, he wasn’t going to be gnawed by rats first.
He got to his feet and grabbed the waste bucket, throwing its contents as far across the small chamber as he could. Thus armed, he flexed his knees, trying to loosen the stiff joints.
A key turned in the rusty lock.
Not rats, then. He swiftly put down the bucket within arm’s reach, sat and lowered his head as if he were asleep. If the guards were coming to take him to his death, the moment his shackles were uncoupled from the wall, he’d grab the bucket for a weapon and try to escape. Better to die fighting.
Lord Carrell came into the chamber, his nose wrinkling with the stench.
What did he want? Not to confess, of that Henry was certain.
He hated to think he might die while this blackguard lived, but he showed no sign of despair or dismay whenhe spoke. “Greetings, my lord traitor. Have you perchance come to join me in confinement?”
“Still the charming knight, are you?” Lord Carrell retorted, his words slightly muffled by the cloth he pulled out of the sleeve of his long tunic and held over his nose.
