Fire Song (Medieval Song 2) - Page 60

“Blanche de Cormont. Please do not harm her.”

His brows lowered a moment. “Lady Blanche,” he called out. He motioned the two men to stay with Kassia, then strode toward Blanche.

“Please,” Kassia called after him, “do not harm her!”

“Come,” Dienwald said to Blanche.

He took her arm roughly and led her into a copse of thick oaks.

“You have done well, my lord,” Blanche said crisply, shaking off his hand.

“Of course,” he said. “The jewels.”

“Ah, certainly.” Blanche pulled a leather pouch from the pocket in her cloak. She opened it slowly and spread out a heavy barbaric necklace of thick pounded gold. Diamonds and rubies glittered from their settings, huge stones that made his eyes glitter as bright as the jewels.

“It is beautiful, is it not? Certainly valuable enough to take her to Brittany.”

“Lord Graelam brought it from the Holy Land?” Dienwald asked, fingering a large ruby.

“Aye. But neither you nor I, my lord, have anything to fear. Lord Graelam will think his wife stole it to escape him.”

Dienwald raised his eyes from the beautiful necklace. “If it is so valuable,” he said slowly, “will he not try to find her, just for its return? I would, were I he.”

Blanche smiled easily. “I doubt that he will realize it is missing for at least a few days. And when he does, it will be too late. He will likely believe her dead at the hands of her . . . cohorts.” She shrugged. “That, or he will believe her returned to her father in Brittany, in which case he would assume that she had long rid herself of the necklace.” She cocked a taunting brow at him. “There is nothing for you to fear, my lord.”

“You have planned this well, my lady.” He gently wrapped the necklace back into its leather pouch and thrust it into his tunic.

“Aye. I have had naught but time to do so.”

“ ’Tis odd,” he continued, looking back at Kassia. “The little chick was afraid for you.”

Blanche laughed, but it was a grating mirthless sound. Still your ridiculous guilt, you fool, she chided herself. The girl would certainly be better off back with her father. Graelam had made her life a misery. Blanche was but doing her a favor. Her eyes did not quite meet Dienwald’s as she said, “Kassia believes me her friend. You will find her something of a fool. But you will not harm her.”

“Oh, but that is the rub, is it not? Whatever am I to do with her?”

“Return her to her doting father,” Blanche said sharply. “The necklace is worth your trouble to send her to Brittany. There is no reason to kill her or harm her in any way.”

Dienwald smiled. “Do you not fear that Graelam will go to Brittany to fetch her? Perhaps he will believe her story that she was kidnapped.”

“Nay. I know him. His pride will not allow him to go after her. In the unlikely case her father demands that she return to Wolffeton, he will never believe her foolish story. Never, I promise you. And you, of course, my lord, would not be so . . . careless as to tell her who you are.”

“Nay, I would not be so careless, Blanche. But what if her father forces her to return? Will that not spoil your plans, my lady?”

Blanche smoothed the sleeve of her tunic. “I am not certain her father will force her back. But in any case, it will be a long time before Graelam learns that she is in Brittany. He cannot stand the sight of her. He treats her like a servant. She is nothing to him. He will have the marriage set aside quickly enough when he learns that she lives. The Duke of Cornwall will help him.”

“And you will wed him?”

“Of course.”

“When you return to Wolffeton, my lady, what will you tell Lord Graelam?”

“Why so much interest in my plans, my lord?”

Dienwald shrugged. “I have no desire to have the powerful Graelam de Moreton breathing down my neck, all through the carelessness of a woman.”

“I will tell him that his wife hired two men to help her escape from him. She feared killing me, and thus I was bound and left.”

“And, of course, managed to free yourself before you came to harm. It would seem that there is nothing more to discuss. I suggest, my lady, that you scream a bit, for the benefit of the little chick.”

Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical
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