Sean stood at the top of the steps, hearing him hit. He swore he could hear the bones crunch.
“That is for Christin, you little bastard,” he whispered through clenched teeth.
Almost immediately, Sean could hear people gasping as they found the dead man at the base of the stairs and he quickly went down the steps, telling everyone the young lord had slipped and fallen. He was convincing enough that he was believed, a terrible tragedy on the day of the king’s celebration.
But then again, no one was foolish enough to contest the Lord of the Shadows.
When John heard what had happened, he didn’t contest him, either. But he didn’t believe him. Still, it didn’t matter; Evan Monnington had served his purpose.
There was a young woman to abduct.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Just because her father had chased her away so he could speak to Alexander didn’t mean she was going to stay away.
Christin was on the hunt.
She ran into Kevin near the keep and he mentioned that The Marshal was calling his men together to discuss the feast that night. But when she headed down to The Marshal’s encampment, she happened to see her father entering The Marshal’s tent along with Bric, her Uncle David, and Alexander. Knowing her father was in that meeting meant she would stay away unless she wanted to blow her cover.
Therefore, she hid.
The meeting went on for about an hour and she’d managed to work her way behind his tent, listening to everything that was being said. She never heard her father speak, but she heard Alexander speak up on several occasions and it set her heart to fluttering. Even the sound of his voice made her sigh. She hadn’t seen her father since he’d sent her away so she didn’t know what was said between him and Alexander, but she intended to find out. She knew her father was very protective, and caught off guard, which made for a bad combination. The idea that he might have ruined her budding relationship with Alexander gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
So, she waited.
She knew the meeting couldn’t last forever and, in truth, she’d only been to a few of these all-gathered meetings. If Susanna was there, then she was usually there, but The Marshal still had ideas about women and them participating in men’s games. He needed women like Susanna and Christin, but he still didn’t fully pull them into his fold. But Christin wasn’t offended by it because she was grateful for as far as she had come.
Towards the end of the meeting, the conversations drifted and men began to leave. Mostly, Christin had heard everything she already knew about John, and about the alleged threat from within, so it really wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. When the meeting started breaking up, however, she peered around the side of the tent and watched her father and uncle head back to their encampment.
She saw Bric, Peter, Caius, and Kevin depart also. It occurred to her that her father must know Peter to be part of The Marshal’s spy ring considering they were both in on the very same meeting. That thought didn’t give her much hope about the man’s mood considering it was probably the second dose of important news he’d received that day – first her romance with Alexander and then the confirmation that Peter was an agent for The Marshal.
The poor man had already had a hell of a day and it wasn’t even time for the feast yet.
With men drifting out of The Marshal’s tent, Christin waited for Alexander to appear. Maxton and Kress were still inside the tent, along with Alexander, so she went back to the spot where she’d had the best luck eavesdropping only to hear that William knew of Alexander’s romantic interest in her. Christin sighed faintly, knowing her father must have told The Marshal. She wondered what kind of trouble she’d be in for now, but part of her was glad that it was out. Perhaps a little sooner than she would have liked, but at least it was out in the open now.
She hoped Alexander wasn’t in too much trouble for it.
Unfortunately, William kept his voice quite as he spoke to Alexander, so she could only catch bits of the conversation. Maxton and Kress never said a word; it all seemed to be William and, on occasion, Alexander, but he wasn’t speaking very loudly either. It all seemed to be calm and quiet, which was good. Or, so she thought. Finally, she heard the tent flap move and she peeked around the corner of the tent to see Alexander heading towards the gatehouse that led up to the keep.
Swiftly, she followed.
Since she didn’t want her father or William to see her, she had to dart through The Marshal’s encampment, essentially running to catch up with Alexander. He was just crossing the bridge into the keep when she came up behind him.
“Sherry?”
Startled, he came to a halt and whirled around. “Where did you come from?”
Christin threw her thumb over her shoulder, a vague answer. “That way,” she said. “I saw you come out of William’s tent.”
“You did? Where were you?”
She wasn’t going to lie to him. She was, if nothing else, an honest person, so lying to people she cared about didn’t come naturally.
“I was behind William’s tent, listening to everything he said,” she confessed. “I heard him say that he knows about… us.”
Alexander nodded slowly. “He does,” he said. “Is that all you heard?”
She gazed up at him, the breeze whipping her dark hair across her face. “I did not hear any details, if that is what you mean,” she said. “What else did he say?”
He regarded her for a moment. “Your father asked that I not speak to you for the rest of the day, you know.”
“Are you going to listen to him?”
Alexander glanced around to see if he saw Christopher or David, or any other Marshal man. When he didn’t note any familiar faces, he took her by the elbow.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “Come with me.”
She went with him, gladly. He was walking rather quickly and led her straight back to her apartment block. Before proceeding inside, however, he paused.
“Who is in the building?” he asked.
Christin instinctively glanced up at the gray-stoned building. “At this time of day, it is difficult to tell,” she said. “Since there is a great feast tonight, it is possible that Lady de Winter has the women in the kitchens to oversee the preparations. Why?”
“Because I must speak with you privately and this may be the only place that I can do it.”
Christin didn’t say another word. In fact, he sounded rather ominous so she was eager to get on with it. Opening the door, she led him inside, calling a few times to see if anyone was about, including Wynter. Receiving no reply, she bolted the entry door.
“My chamber is upstairs,” she said quietly.
He stopped her before she could head up the stairs. “Won’t they question the fact that you have locked the entry door?”
She shook her head. “Not when I explain that I was afraid of the king,” she said. “They will not question that. Just make sure you are not discovered. I may have to push you out the window to escape.”
He gave her a wry smirk and let her lead him up to her chamber on the second floor, the one with the view of both the keep and the garden. Admitting him inside, she closed the door quietly and bolted that one, too. Then, she faced him expectantly.