“Do you know the Duke of Lorillard’s castle? Do you know where his brother lives?” Judith asked, leaning forward.
“No, but surely—” Elizabeth began.
“We can’t risk it. The duke was a ‘friend’ of my father.” Judith sneered at this. “I know where all four of the Lorillard estates are and I doubt if any other Montgomery does. Raine might, since he’s fought in tournaments in France, but if the men have separated…no, it’s decided.” She stood.
“Like hell it is!” roared the man at her side, John Bassett, as he rose to tower over her.
Judith merely blinked at his voice but remained calm. “The horses are ready and we will ride soon. Bronwyn, do you have enough of those tartan skirts of yours? They’ll be comfortable on the long journey.”
John grabbed her arm harshly. “You’ll not go risking your life again,” he said. “You nearly killed us all when you went after Gavin. This time, young lady, you’ll remain here and let the men handle this.”
Judith’s eyes turned as hot as molten gold. “And where will you look for my husband?” she seethed. “Have you ever been to France? And if you by chance found him, where would you tell him to look for Miles? Use what sense you have, John! Leave the other women here but Elizabeth and I must go with you.”
Alyx looked at Bronwyn and then let out a yell of “NO!” that made dust trickle down from the ceiling.
Alyx’s face turned a becoming shade of pink and she looked down at her hands. “I mean that Bronwyn and I would rather go with you. Perhaps we can help,” she whispered.
“Bronwyn,” Tam began while Sir Guy was looking down his nose in an intimidating way at Elizabeth. Instantly, the room erupted into argument. Alyx, having no man to tower over her, slipped away unnoticed, ran up the stairs to Bronwyn and Stephen’s room and pulled several plaids from a trunk. Even upstairs she could hear the loud voices downstairs.
On impulse, she grabbed a bagpipe from the wall. Multicolored tartans over her shoulders, she set the pipes to wailing as she started downstairs. By the time she reached the Great Hall, where everyone stood looking up at her, they were silent.
She dropped the pipe from her mouth. “If you men ride without us,” she said into the silence, “we will leave, alone, an hour later. Do you ride with us or before us?”
The men were quiet, jaws working, lips in tight lines.
“While we are wasting time,” Alyx continued, “Miles is being held prisoner, or perhaps being tortured at this very moment. I suggest we ride—NOW!”
Judith walked forward, took Alyx’s face in her hands, kissed both of her sister-in-law’s cheeks. “We ride!” Judith declared, taking the plaids from Alyx’s shoulders and tossing one to Elizabeth. “John, see to the supplies. Guy, go to my steward. We’ll need gold for this journey. Tam, make sure we have arrows aplenty and check the strings on the bows. Bronwyn, make sure we have horses that can travel. Alyx, bring something to make music with. We may need it.”
Elizabeth began smiling at the first order. “And me?” she asked as everyone started off in different directions to obey Judith.
“Come with me,” Judith said, starting up the stairs.
Halfway up the stairs, Judith paused, her eyes boring into Elizabeth’s. “Alice Chatworth contracted smallpox and although she lived, the unscarred side of her face was badly pocked.” Judith paused. “She took her own life by casting herself from the battlements of one of her estates.” She looked away, then under her breath said, “The same wall old Ela fell from.”
Elizabeth didn’t understand the last statement but as she followed Judith up the stairs, she was glad Alice was dead. At least now she could be sure of her son’s safety.
Elizabeth had heard talk of what a worker Judith Montgomery was but she soon decided Judith was a demon. She allowed no one any weakness—nor any rest.
They made the trip to the south of England in just two days, changing horses often. No one spoke but merely rode as hard and fast as possible. In many places the roads were so bad they were nonexistent, and they tore through newly plowed fields while farmers raised fists in anger. Twice Tam and Guy jumped from their horses, used battle axes to chop down fences. Behind them sheep grazed.
“The owner will take Judith to court,” Elizabeth said, for the huge sheep pens were obviously owned by someone rich.
“This land belongs to Judith,” Bronwyn called over her shoulder as she kicked her horse forward.
Alyx and Elizabeth exchanged looks of awe before they, too, set their horses at the usual spine-jarring pace.
When they reached the southern tip of England at dawn the third morning, a ferry waited to take them to the island where more of the Montgomerys lived.
“My clan is small compared to this family,” Bronwyn said tiredly before she sat down in the wet bottom of the ferry, pulled her plaid over her head and fell asleep.
An hour later they were awakened and, as sleepwalkers, they moun
ted fresh horses and rode to the Montgomery estates. Even as tired as she was, Elizabeth felt the age and serenity of the fortress, the stones laid over two hundred years before by the knight known as the Black Lion.
Inside the gates, Judith touched Elizabeth’s arm and nodded toward a child peeping out from a doorway. She was about a year and a half old, with dirty hair, torn clothes and the wary look of a hungry dog.
“One of Miles’s children,” Judith said, watching Elizabeth’s face.