His arms finally went around her, holding her tightly as if to never let her go.
“Isalyn,” he said, his voice trembling. “What in the hell is going on? What happened to you?”
Isalyn was groggy, a hand on her aching head. “Lenore,” she muttered, trying to remember what had gone on. “She said that she and Barbara wanted my forgiveness. They wanted to make amends. She said they had a gift for me and they brought me out to the postern gate, but a man grabbed me. I don’t know who he was and… God’s Bones, where is Isabella? He hit Isabella!”
“She is well,” Tor said, feeling lightheaded with both relief and fear. Fear of what could have been. “She is with Fraser. You said that Lenore and Barbara brought you out here?”
Isalyn collapsed against him. “They tried,” she said, closing her eyes because her head was killing her. “That man was waiting for me and he tried to kill me. Tor, they brought me right to him.”
Tor still didn’t really know what was going on, but he had heard enough. He turned to see his uncle halfway down the slope and he called to the man.
“Uncle Blayth!” he shouted. “Barbara and Lenore – get them to the vault!”
Blayth was on the move and, along with Ronan, managed to grab Barbara and Lenore. Tor could hear them screaming but he didn’t care. They could have drowned in the moat at that very moment and he wouldn’t have cared. Any semblance of concern he’d ever had for them was gone forever.
Forgive me, Jane.
They had committed the last crime they were ever going to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Armathwaite Nunnery
One week later
The moon was full overhead, the stars beyond like a sea of diamonds against the black expanse of sky. As Tor walked away from the walls of the ancient nunnery, he could still hear the sobs of Barbara and Lenore as the nuns took them away, pleading with him not to leave them. Begging him to reconsider. Telling him how Jane would not have wanted it this way.
But he was immune to it.
For the first time in almost seventeen years, he was numb to it.
Barbara and Lenore were dead to him now.
Blayth, Fraser, Ronan, and Christian were waiting for him in a group. They were mounted, with Ronan holding the reins of Enbarr and the two other horses that had brought Barbara and Lenore to their final destination. Tor took his beloved steed from Ronan and deftly climbed into the saddle.
As the party began to move north, he didn’t look back.
“How do you feel, Tor?” Blayth asked quietly. “I know that this was difficult, but it was the right thing to do.”
The moon was so bright that it appeared as if the entire land were lit by a million white torches, everything so bright that it was like daytime.
For Tor, it was, indeed, as if a new day had dawned.
The first day of the rest of his life.
“I feel fine,” he said. “I feel as if a great burden has been lifted. I’m only sorry it took me so long to come to my senses.”
Blayth glanced at Ronan and Christian, the men who had known Tor better than most. “It was quite a burden,” he agreed. “And quite complicated. Who knew that the sick man who had come to Blackpool was a rogue de Royans knight? We would have never known had I not recognized the body. I had seen the man come with Kelton de Royans to the gathering of the northern warlords last year. I feel badly that I did not see him when he first came to Blackpool. Mayhap we could have avoided this whole situation.”
Tor held up a hand to ease him. “It was not your fault, Uncle Blayth,” he said. “We took him in, as it was the right thing to do, having no idea that he was only pretending to be ill to gain access to Blackpool and to the House of de Wolfe. Barbara and Lenore played right into his hands.”
“Kelton de Royans said that it was rumored that Joah de Brayton and Steffan de Featherstone were lovers,” Blayth said quietly. “I care not who a man loves, but I do care about his character and de Brayton seemed to be lacking, according to Kelton. To seek revenge for a foul scheme gone wrong only comes from a man with poor standards and even worse judgment.”
Tor glanced at his uncle. “Sometimes, it can happen in the best of families,” he said. “Look at Steffan. Gilbert is a good man and Isalyn, of course, is beyond reproach, but Steffan had a distinct lack of character. Kelton pressed one of his other knights, a friend of Steffan’s, who said that Steffan only sought the betrothal with Isabella to gain access to the de Wolfe war machine. He had promised Joah a great position once he married her. Thank God he didn’t.”
They all turned to look at Fraser, riding along silently, listening to everything that was being said. When he saw all of the attention on him, including Blayth’s, he smiled weakly.
“Thank God, indeed,” he repeated, a smile on his lips. “I would not have the great honor of becoming her husband next week.”
As Blayth cocked a stern eyebrow at the man, the others started laughing. “We are fortunate to have you in the family, Fraser, and do not let Papa make you think otherwise,” Ronan said. “He may look like a terrible barbarian, but he already loves you. I can tell.”
“Shut up,” Blayth grumbled to his son. “You are not to make him feel so welcome until he has been married to Bella for a while. If you make him feel comfortable, he will not fear me.”
“I will always fear you, my lord,” Fraser said smoothly.
Now, Blayth was trying not to smile as the others laughed. “Smart man,” he muttered.
The party continued on, the mood lighter than it had been in some time, ever since Barbara and Lenore nearly carried out their final, terrible plan to remove Isalyn forever. After the scare, Tor had summoned his father and married Isalyn in the man’s presence three days later, and she had worn the gorgeous wedding dress that he had purchased for her. Upon her finger, never to be removed, was the ancient posy ring they so cherished.
I choose thee.
“Did you tell Gilbert what Kelton de Royans told you, Uncle Blayth?” Tor asked, anxious to return to Blackpool and to his new wife, who was in the care of his father and her father at the moment. “He knows that Joah came from Netherghyll, but I was not sure how much more you told him.”
Blayth shook his head. “There is no reason to tell him anything more,” he said. “Would it do any good to tell him that his son’s lover was seeking revenge for his death? That he was mad with rage and that his son was trying to dupe the House of de Wolfe by marrying Isabella? Nay, I did not tell him. Steffan may have been a terrible son, but he was Gilbert’s only son. He knows that the man was a coward and a scoundrel. I do not want to pile on and tell him even more than that.”
It was a compassionate decision on Blayth’s part. Tor faced forward, watching the road ahead, calculating that they would make it home just before dawn. Just in time for him to climb into bed with Isalyn and make love to her while the sun rose.
His wife.
He never thought he could be so happy again. But he hadn’t reached this point without help.
He’d had a lot of it.
“I want to thank you all for everything you have done,” he said after a moment. “Uncle Blayth, my thanks to you for your wisdom and advice. Ronan, you are my younger cousin, but you are more like a brother to me. Christian, you are my cousin and my second in command, but you are the best friend a man could have. And Fraser… you have quickly integrated yourself into the House of de Wolfe. I have a feeling you and I will be spending many years together, closely, because it has become apparent that Isalyn and Isabella cannot be separated. Isabella very nearly sacrificed her life for Isalyn and I will never forget her bravery. And you… you nearly died trying to protect Isalyn. I will never forget that, either. Not ever.”