Page 4 of Secrets of Capell Manor
Two men rounded the corner from the manor’s foyer and entered the great room. Just as Ridley described, one man stood almost a head taller than his companion and his skin and eyes were fair. He looked cold, but his face was not unpleasant, just tinged red with the damp chill of the evening. His eyes were a clear blue, and his beard, trimmed in the Norman fashion, framed his jaw. His hair under his helmet appeared to be a light brown, almost the color of honey, and wet.
His companion stood in stark, foreboding contrast to his tall, fair friend.
He was not overly tall, but his dark presence commanded attention, and Rosalind’s breathing threatened to get out of control again quickly. He was a wall of black from head to toe. He wore black clothing, boots, and a cloak. The clothes did not conceal the raw strength shown in his muscled arms and broad chest. On his face, a scar ran from the corner of his right eye, passed down his cheek, and ended at the corner of his mouth—a full mouth that wore a frown when he entered the room.
A shadow, an evil shadow. Now, whose imagination is running amok?
Benton’s strong voice broke into her thoughts.
“Lady Rosalind Capell, I present Sir Devlin Alastor and Alden Danby.”
She wasn’t sure how she managed, but she stood from her chair without the slightest wobble.
“Sir Devlin, Mr. Danby,” she said with a slight nod. “Please come in and warm yourself by the fire.”
As the men moved toward the hearth, she turned to Marta, “Marta, please fetch some warmed cider or ale for our guests.”
Poor Marta nearly went down on her first step. Their brave act threatened to dissolve already. Ridley was there to offer his help.
“Now Mum, I see your lame knee is botherin’ ya. Let me help you to the kitchen.”
Clever Ridley…
The men removed their cloaks, and Benton took them to hang where they could dry. They walked to the edge of the hearth and stretched their hands toward the flames, but the dark one did not stay there long. He paced around the room.
Rosalind’s gaze turned to the ominous figure as he assessed his surroundings.
“Sir Devlin,” she said tentatively. “Please sit here by the fire. You must be tired from your journey.”
He turned his coal-black gaze toward her. His eyes were nearly black as midnight and framed in thick, dark lashes. But he did not respond and continued his survey of the room.
An audible sigh came from Sir Devlin’s man.
“I could use a sit-down.” Alden took a chair from the table and placed it closer to the fire. “And please excuse my tall, mute friend, my lady,” he said as he sat down. “His manners are sorely lacking.”
Rosalind did not reply, but the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly.
His friend is not afraid to goad him. Maybe that is a good sign.
A stressed silence filled the room, but thankfully, Ridley returned with a tray that held warm ale and cider. Marta also included chunks of cheese and a loaf of crusty bread in the late-night supper offering. Ridley walked to the head of the great table and plopped the tray down loudly.
Ridley moved toward his lady. Alden scooted his chair back to the table and began to drink the ale. Sir Devlin sat down, tore a chunk of the bread from the loaf, and ate, his quiet, intense stare focused on Rosalind.
Rosalind could not hold his piercing stare. She looked down and her wringing hands betrayed her.
Stop it!
Finally, she turned her head from his agonizing scrutiny. Her comfort obviously didn’t concern him. Out of the silence, his steady, serious voice said, “Do you know why I’m here?”
Rosalind’s head turned upward and toward Sir Devlin. “Yes,” she replied. “The king’s missive was clear. You are looking for Lord Edmond, as he didn’t arrive at court as expected.” She was proud that her voice sounded strong.
“The king believes that his loyal vassal would never intentionally ignore a royal summons. I am here to discover whether foul play has kept him from attending to his liege or if he, by chance, turned traitorous. Anyone who interferes with my inquiry into this matter will be dealt with harshly. And if foul play is found to be the cause of his absence at court, anyone involved will be tried, judged, and sentenced accordingly.”
Rosalind’s heart pounded. She wondered if Sir Devlin could hear the beating.
His voice boomed, and he turned his cruel gaze toward all in the room. “And I expect—”
Benton, with an ancient grave voice, decided at this time to announce, “Your rooms are ready, Sir Devlin and Mr. Danby.”
