Guardian of Darkness (45 page)

It was Massimo.  Creed felt his stomach lurch a little as the sight of the man but he greeted him pleasantly.  If the man was traveling in weather such as this, all the way from London no less, then the news must indeed be serious.  He was glad that Carington was inside the hall and away from this scene for the moment.

“Your Grace,” he said, helping the man from the carriage and into the snow. “You picked fine weather to travel in.”

Massimo’s young face was bundled up in woolen scarves.  His dark eyes fixed on Creed. “It was not by choice, I assure you,” he said. “I have come with dreadful news and there is no time to waste.”

Creed’s stomach lurched a little more. “What news?”

Massimo put his hand on Creed’s arm. “Take me into some place warm before I freeze to death and I will tell you.”

Creed began to lead the man towards the great hall, wrought with dread as they walked. “Tell me what has happened that would have you traveling in such foul weather?”

Massimo wiped snow from his face. “The queen’s child was born three months ago,” he told him. “The child was early and did not survive. But it was born with a crown of black hair and, I am told, dark blue eyes. Like yours.”

Creed cleared his throat softly. “Be that as it may, it was not mine. And Isabella has black hair.”

“I understand,” Massimo nodded. “But the fact remains that the king went mad with fury and grief and has been demanding your head ever since.  He knew that the church has been in contact with you and he further knew that we advocate your innocence in all things. We have made that clear. When I left London six weeks ago to deliver the news to you, we were followed. A small army of the king’s men is not a day’s ride behind me.”

Creed froze and looked at him. “You led them to Prudhoe?”

Massimo’s cold face was lined with guilt and sorrow. “It was a mistake, I assure you,” he said quietly. “We had no idea we were being followed until we were almost to Leeds.  By then, the best I could do was proceed as quickly as I could to warn you.”

Creed just stared at him. “You could have veered away and led them to Manchester or York, for God’s sake. As it is, you led them right to me.”

Massimo nodded submissively. “A difficult choice to make, Sir Creed. Even if I had diverted them, I could not take the chance that they would somehow wander into Prudhoe or Hexham and catch you unaware. You had to be warned.”

Creed sighed heavily, his mind whirling with the news.  He resumed his walk towards the great hall. “Then it would seem my choice is to either hunker down at Prudhoe and expect a siege or flee. And I cannot flee.”

“Why not?” Massimo demanded. “You must leave this right away if you are to have any chance of escaping them.”

Creed shook his head. “I cannot leave in any case.”

“Why not?” Massimo demanded again.

Creed looked at him, then. “Because my wife is with child. I cannot drag her out in this weather or travel with her in her current condition. Even in fine weather, I would be hesitant to take her into open country.”

Massimo stared at him in shock.  After a moment, he let out a hissing whistle between his teeth and looked away. “Dear God,” he muttered. “I understand your reluctance, Creed, but you have no choice.  If you stay, the king’s men will lay siege to Prudhoe and you jeopardize everyone here with your presence. Would you really risk so many men, women and children because you do not want to leave?”

They had reached the great hall and Creed turned to look at the priest with a great deal of pain on his face. The dusky blue eyes were full of it.  After a moment, he averted his gaze and opened the door.

Hot air hit them in the face as they entered and Creed quickly closed the door behind them.  When Creed looked up, he could already seen Carington moving across the floor in their direction.  Her lovely face was serene yet curious.  Massimo unwound the woolen scarf from his head as she drew near.

“Lady de Reyne,” he greeted her, eyeing her round belly. “Your husband told me the happy news. Congratulations on your pending child.”

She dipped in curtsy. “Yer Grace,” she said. “Welcome to Prudhoe. My husband thought it might be ye but he could not be sure.”

Massimo forced a smile and took her hand gently. “It was me,” he nodded his head in the direction of the table. “May we sit and warm ourselves? I fear that I have barely escaped being turned into a pillar of ice.”

Carington smiled at him but her eyes moved to Creed as they made their way back to the well scrubbed table. Creed simply winked at her, sending a servant for hot mulled wine and food.  Then he joined them.

Carington did not mince words; she knew the priest was there for a reason and she would know what it was.

“To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” she asked the priest. “Surely it is not because ye enjoy traveling in the snow.”

Massimo smiled weakly. “Nay, my lady, I do not,” he cast a glance at Creed. “I have, in fact, come with some news.”

Creed made sure to sit beside her as she focused on the priest. “What news?” she asked.

Massimo chose his words carefully; he had caught glimpses of the lady’s high strung nature the last time he was at Prudhoe and did not imagine that pregnancy had stilled those tendencies.  If anything, they were probably worse.  He was very careful how he delivered the news.

“The queen gave birth to a stillborn son three months ago,” he said. “It was rumored that the child was in the exact image of your husband. The king’s grief and fury knew no bounds and he put a price on your husband’s head.  Even now, the king’s men have followed me to Prudhoe and cannot be more than a day’s ride behind me.  I have been attempting to convince your husband to flee but he will not.”

In spite of the devastating news, Carington held her composure admirably. But it was very thinly held.  She turned to Creed.

“He is right, English,” she said, although he could see her lips trembling. “Ye must flee. Go to Wether Fair and seek sanctuary from my father. Massimo will go with ye and explain the situation.”

His heart was breaking as he noted the quiver to her mouth, her pale features.  He knew how upset she was. “I will not leave you,” he asserted softly, firmly. “I am not afraid to face the king with the church on my side.”

“I will go with you,” she suddenly bolted up as if she had a million things to do and only five minutes in which to complete them. “I shall pack lightly and we can ride to my father’s home. It shouldna take more than a couple of days.”

He grabbed her by the hands as she tried to get away.  “In this weather?” he was trying to be gentle but he could see that she was beginning to panic. “I will not risk you over miles of open ground. It is foolish.”

She had a wild look to her eye as her alarm gained ground. “Then ye must go alone,” she insisted, yanking at his hands. “Ye must leave right away. Go to Wether Fair and I will send word to ye when it ‘tis safe to return.”

He shook his head firmly. “I will not leave you, Cari. There is no telling how long we would be separated and I will not miss the birth of my son.”

Her panic broke through and her high-pitched voice began to quake. “Ye’ll miss his entire life if the king’s men murder ye,” she cried. “For the love of God, English, get out of here. Go before it ‘tis too late!”

She was yanking fiercely at him and he threw his arms around her to stop the panic.  She collapsed against him in terrified tears as he held her tightly.

“I will not run like a coward,” he murmured into her dark hair, listening to her weep harder. “I did nothing wrong. God will protect me.”

She was weeping pathetically. “Go, English,” she sobbed. “I am begging ye; for my sake, please go. I canna stand the strain of knowing ye risked yer life just to stay with me. Oh, please… go….”

She trailed off into heart wrenching sobs.  Creed sighed heavily, rocking her gently and trying to soothe her.  His dark, anguished gaze found the priest.

“How far behind you would you estimate the king’s men are?” he asked quietly.

Massimo wriggled his eyebrows in resignation. “Darlington, perhaps,” he lifted his shoulders. “If they are riding harder than I am, then they will be closer.”

Carington pulled her face from the crook of his neck, her emerald eyes filled with terror. “Please,” she put her small hands on his face urgently. “Please go. The king’s men will lay siege to Prudhoe if ye stay and ye will risk much. Yer desire to stay with me is not worth so many lives. And what of Lord Richard? Will ye bring hell upon him because of yer selfishness?”

He gazed deeply into her beautiful eyes. “I do not consider wanting to stay with my wife selfish. Moreover, there will be no siege.”

She blinked, looking surprised. “No siege? What do ye mean?”

He leaned down and kissed her wet cheek. “Because I intend to turn myself over to them.”

Carington flew into a frenzy. “Nay!” she screamed. “Ye cannot do this, not when…oh!”

She suddenly doubled over and clutched her belly.  Creed went from calm to horrified in a split second.

“What is wrong?” he had his arms on her, supporting her. “Cari, what is happening?”

She was panting, holding her rounded belly. “A… pain,” she gasped. “’Tis nothing… I will be all right.”

Creed was seized with terror. “What is wrong?”

She shook her head; mostly to ease his mind but also because she did not really know. “A pain,” she said bravely. “It will pass. I’ve had a few lately but they go away.”

“A few?” he repeated, aghast. “And you did not tell me?”

“There wasna much to tell.”

He swept her into his arms, torn between fury and terror. “I am taking you to bed,” he told her. “The strain has been too much for you.”

Carington was in a good deal of agony as bolts of pain shot through her belly and groin. “Creed,” she was struggling to calm herself, realizing that it was now her husband who was on the edge of panic. “I will be all right but I must know that ye are safe. Ye must leave; please. I am begging ye.”

He did not reply.  A couple of servants were hovering hear the entry door and he sent one of them running for the physic tending Lady Vivian while the other tossed Carington’s cloak over her to shield her from the snow outside.  Creed was in such a state of horror that he did not realize that it was Massimo who opened the entry door for him and helped them out into the snow. The priest kept Carington’s cloak from blowing off as they trudged through the fresh powder snow and into the cottage. Once inside, Massimo removed the cloak as Creed took Carington on into the bedroom.

He laid her gently on their massive bed, gazing into her face with a stricken look. “The physic is coming, honey,” he murmured. “What more can I do for you?”

She lay back on the pillows, her hands pressed to her swollen belly. “Ye can go,” she whispered. “Please, Creed; I cannot stomach the thought of ye at the mercy of the king. If ye have ever loved me, if ye have ever truly wanted to please me, then ye will flee to Wether Fair and remain there until I send for ye.”

He tossed off his frozen helm and removed his gloves, kneeling beside the bed. “I am not leaving you.”

She groaned as another pain struck and turned her head away from him so he could not see her fear and anguish.  When she spoke again, she was weeping.