“A subterfuge. I feared I’d be courting scandal and undue attention if I didn’t claim you as my wife. It was the only way I could share your chamber and watch over you in your illness.”
What nonsense was this? “Who the devil are you, sirrah?”
Keeping the blanket tightly around his waist, he rose and bowed deeply. “Will Cavendish, knight, at your service. As I’ve told you on numerous occasions.” His lips twitched.
She lifted her chin. “I shall endeavor to remember it. What has befallen me? You have much to account for.”
He drew a hand through his hair. “’Tis a lengthy tale. Pray, sit.” He indicated the bed, and she sank dizzily onto it as he resumed his place on the settle.
“What do you remember of the past few days, or weeks even?”
She searched her memory. Aye, she knew this man. And remembered how he’d treated her. “What leaps to mind is the fact that you humiliated me, tied me up like a piece of baggage, and tossed me about on a horse. Oh, and seemed not overly fond of my playing.”
He gave a wry grin. “Only the bad bits, then. I assure you, I’m not such an ogre as you believe. I did what appeared meet and proper at the time—be assured, I’m your friend, not your enemy.”
Meet and proper? When they were sharing a chamber, and she wore only a nightgown?
“No need to look so cross. You’ve been under the care of Goodwife Franks, the innkeeper’s lady, and her daughter. I come here only to sleep, lest it be commented on that I lie not with my lady wife.”
She shook her head. What had happened, that he had to pretend they were married? He’d abducted her, for the sake of her dowry—it was not an uncommon occurrence. But from the look of his clothing, he had no need of coin, so why take her at all?
His next words mirrored her thoughts. “You must be strong now, Isobel, in case you have to prove you’re of sound mind to reclaim your home and chattels from Hubert Pike. Forgive me, but I assume you’re Edward’s heir?”
Her beloved brother, Edward, was dead. She needed no reminder. “I’d been telling myself it was all just one of my hideous nightmares.”
The man’s knuckles whitened where he clenched the arms of the settle. “Are you well enough to hear this, Isobel? I don’t want to send you back into delirium.”
She chewed on her lip, relishing the pain. Images of Hubert Pike and the massive bully, Flinders, chased one another across her mind’s eye. Potions and punishment, being locked in, a garden burgeoning with colorful poppies, and an ugly woman forcing something down her throat—it was a lot to assimilate.
“Tell me.” She straightened her spine—it was better to know than not.
“You know of the conflict in the Low Countries?”
She nodded.
“Good. Now, you must swear to speak to no one else of what I tell you, do you understand?”
She nodded again. Why was he being so secretive?
“You may have heard of the siege of Grave. Leicester was ready to relieve the place, but the mayor surrendered to the Spanish, and was executed for his perceived treachery. An action not sanctioned by the queen, nor approved of by either your brother or me. Indeed, we were so eager to remove the taint of association, we joined a contingent of six-score-and-ten English lances in a raid. Our aim was to lift the siege of Venlo. It was a daring mission—foolhardy, you might say—to breast our way through the Duke of Parma’s encampment at night.”
He paused, his eyes focusing on a point beyond her head, his expression grim.
“Many were slain or mortally wounded, including your brother, Edward, felled by a shot from a matchlock. I carried him to safety—we survivors took refuge in nearby Wachtendonk. But there was no hope—I held him as his life ebbed away. There was a look in his eyes as he understood the inevitability of his death. How can one imagine what it’s like, to know your life is closing down, that the darkness will descend on you in minutes rather than years, and that the whole process is irreversible? He showed indomitable courage at the end, and his last thought was for you.”
A lump came to her throat, making her voice catch. “I understand I’ve been unwell in Edward’s absence, and am only just recovering. You’re my friend, you say?”
“Always.” Suddenly she was in his embrace, cradled against his chest. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to rest her head against his shoulder as his arms tightened around her. The temptation to sob out her sorrow and bewilderment against the soft linen of his shirt was almost overpowering—but he was too much a stranger to her newly awakened self. She knew they’d spent a considerable time in each other’s company, yet she’d been barely aware of what was happening for most of it. She’d have to start again, from the beginning.
“I must apologize.” He released her and moved to the far side of the room.
She hovered uncertainly for a moment, then retreated to the bed. “So, what do we do now, Sir William Cavendish? Shall you tell me what my evil cousin, Hubert Pike, has done? And why?”
His brow darkened. “Don’t sully your tongue with the name of that blackguard. He has, as far as I can tell, taken over your home, dismissed all your loyal servants, and kept you subdued by feeding you copious amounts of poppy juice.”
Ah. She’d asked for poppy juice, hadn’t she? Nay, begged. But Will Cavendish had refused to give it to her.
“Is that why I’ve felt so ill? Because Hubert was poisoning me?”
“Making you dependent upon it and poisoning you at the same time, according to the physician. Don’t worry!” He put up a hand as her face fell. “He said you’ll make a complete recovery, given care and time. I will do whatever is needed.”
There was a pain under her heart. “But why would my cousin treat me so? I have done him no harm.”
“For financial motives, no doubt. He saw a vulnerable young woman, and took advantage.”
She pondered this, chewing on her lip. “But what if Edward had come home? Hubert would have been found out.”
“Not before he’d emptied the coffers and sold all the valuables. A criminal and his cronies can vanish easily enough in the alleys and rookeries of London. He must have been certain he’d not be caught.”
Anger made her cheeks grow hot. What would she find when she returned home? Would there be anything left?
“I want him punished. Either in this life, or the next. My brother is dead, and my nearest relation prepared to leave me with nothing.” Her voice caught.
Will held her gaze, his expression solemn. “I’ll not see you bereft. I swore an oath to Edward the day before we undertook that final, perilous mission to look after you. I have his ring, and a signed letter allowing me to deal with your attorney. But if all else fails, I have an alternative solution—so, pray, do not distress yourself.”
She wasn’t distressed. She was boiling with a rage she struggled to suppress. Her fists clenched in the bedcovers.
Will came closer. “Master Pike shall pay his dues—I’ll see to that. We need proof of his felonies—but I’ll not have you go back to Marston House. Not straightaway, at least. Are you well enough to travel? I can hire you a mount from the stables here.”