Turning back to Belwain, he said, "The last time you saw your brother there was an argument?" Geoffrey's voice was almost pleasant now, as if he was greeting an old friend.
Belwain didn't immediately answer. His eyes, like a cornered rat, darted from his lord to the knight sitting at the table, and then back to Geoffrey again. He seemed to be considering his options. "It is true, my lord," he answered. "And I shall carry the burden of saying harsh words to my brother for the rest of my days. We parted last in anger, of that I am guilty."
"What was the argument about?" Geoffrey inquired, totally unmoved by Belwain's tear-filled admission. Compassion was the last thing in Geoffrey's mind.
Belwain watched the lord, saw that he seemed unmoved by his impassioned speech, and continued in a less dramatic voice. "My brother promised me additional land for planting. Yet each year he would further the date for handing over the land, always with some insignificant reason. My brother was a good man but not given to generosity. And the last time I saw him, I was sure I would get the land. I was sure! He had used up his reasons," Belwain added, "but again he dangled the carrot before me and then at the last minute withdrew it."
Belwain's face had turned a blotched red as he spoke, and his voice lost some of the whine. "I had reached my limit and was tired of his games," he said. "I told him as much and we began to yell at one another. He threatened me then, my lord. Yes, he did! He threatened his only brother. I had to leave. Thomas had a terrible temper and many enemies, you know," he added. "Many enemies."
"And you believe one of his 'many enemies' killed him and his family?"
"Yes, I do." Belwain nodded vigorously. "I tell you again, I had nothing to do with it. And I have proof that I was nowhere about. There are those who will tell you if you will allow me to bring them inside."
"I have no doubt that you have friends who will state you were with them while your brother and his family were slaughtered. No doubt at all," Geoffrey said. His voice was mild, but his eyes were chilling.
"Yes," Belwain said, standing taller. "I am not guilty and I can prove I am not."
"I have not said you are guilty," Geoffrey replied.
He tried to keep his voice neutral, for he had no wish to let Belwain know what he was feeling inside. Belwain, he hoped, would be lulled into a false sense of security, and perhaps become more easily trapped. "I have only just begun to look into this matter, you understand."
"Aye, my lord. But I am sure that in the end I will be a freeman. Perhaps the new lord of Montwright lands, eh?" Belwain stopped himself just in time. He almost rubbed his hands with delight. It was easier than he had anticipated. The overlord, though quite intimidating in appearance, was most simple in his reasoning, Belwain hastily judged.
"Thomas's son is heir to Montwright," Geoffrey answered.
"Yes, that is most true, my lord," Belwain hurried to correct himself. "But as only uncle, I assumed that, once proven innocent of this terrible deed, that I… that is, that you would place the boy under my guardianship. It is the law," he added with emphasis.
"The boy's sister does not trust you, Belwain. She believes you guilty." Geoffrey watched Belwain's reaction to his statement and felt a rage begin to boil inside. Belwain was sneering.
"She knows nothing! And she will change her tune when I am in charge," he scoffed. "Too much freedom that one has had." There was genuine dislike in his voice, and he almost lost his life in that moment it took for Geoffrey to gain control.
He is a stupid man, Geoffrey thought. Stupid and weak. A dangerous combination.
"You speak of my wife, Belwain."
His statement had the desired effect. Belwain lost all color and almost collapsed to his knees. "Your wife! I beg your forgiveness, my lord. I did not mean, that is—"
"Enough!" Geoffrey barked. "Return to your men and wait until I send for you again."
"I am not to stay here?" Belwain asked, the whine back in his voice.
"Leave me," Geoffrey bellowed. "And be content that you still have your life, Belwain. I have not ruled out your guilt in this matter."
Belwain opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and snapped it shut. He turned and hurried from the room.
"God! Can he be brother to Thomas?" Roger said when the doors were closed. He all but shuddered with revulsion.
"He is afraid and yet brazen at the same time," Geoffrey answered.
"What think you, Hawk? Is he the one? Did he do it, plan it?"
"What do you think, Roger?" Geoffrey asked.
"Guilty," Roger stated.
"Based on?"
"Based on… disgust," Roger admitted after a time. "Nothing more. I would like for him to be guilty."
That is not enough."
"Then you do not think him guilty, my lord?"
"I did not say that. It is too soon to tell. Belwain is a stupid man. He thought of lying about the argument with his brother but decided against it. I could read the indecision in his eyes. And he is weak, Roger. I think too weak to plan such a bold thing. He appears to be a follower, not a leader."
"Aye, I had not thought of it that way," Roger admitted.
"I do not think he is completely innocent, but he did not do the planning. Of that I'm sure. No," Geoffrey said, shaking his head, "someone else is behind the deed."
"What will you do now?"
"Draw the guilty out," Geoffrey stated. "And I will use Belwain as my tool."
"I do not understand."
"I must think over my plan," Geoffrey said. "Perhaps I will take Belwain into my confidence. Make false promises to him. Suggest that the boy will be given into his care. Then we will see."
"What is your reasoning, my lord?"
"Whoever planned this wanted my lands. They attacked Montwright and they therefore attacked me. You operate on the premise that it was only Montwright the guilty was after. I do not limit my thoughts in just one direction, Roger. I must look at all the possibilities."
"Sometimes the most simple conclusion is also the most correct," Roger answered.
"Know this, Roger. Nothing is ever as it appears. You fool only yourself if you believe what is easiest to believe."
"A good lesson, my lord," Roger said.
"One I learned early in life, Roger," Geoffrey admitted. "Come," he suddenly said, "there is much to do today. Set up the table outside and I will see to the disputes among the freemen and pay them for their work."
"I will see to it," Roger said, hurrying to stand. He knocked over the bench in his haste but didn't bother to right it. His lord was already at the doorway, waiting. "Roger, I again place the boy Thomas in your care. I will go up and talk with my wife and send the lad to you. Wait here."
Roger nodded his ascent, silently wondering what his lord would say to his wife. He knew that Lady Elizabeth expected immediate death for her uncle. How would she react to her husband's decision to wait for justice? The Hawk was about to ask a great deal from a mere woman, Roger thought. But then, from his contact with the Baroness, she was far more than a mere woman.
"My lord?" Roger suddenly asked.
Geoffrey turned from the stairway, one raised eyebrow his question.
"What of Lady Elizabeth? Would you wish me to look after her today?"
"No, that is my duty," Geoffrey answered. "As unseemly as it is for a woman to stay at my side, it will be done today. I would know where she is every minute that Belwain and his men are about."
"You would protect her from Belwain," Roger said, nodding.
"And Belwain from her," Geoffrey said, with a hint of a smile. "She would try to kill him, you know. And there is a thought in my mind that she just might be capable of the deed."
Roger nodded again and tried not to smile.
It took Elizabeth some time to get control of herself. She alternated between grabbing the squirming little boy and holding him against her to trying to explain to him why she was in such a state.
Little Thomas remembered nothing. Not even how t
o play checkers, a game the two of them had played countless times in the past. It was just as well, Elizabeth decided, for her mind was too preoccupied for games.
When Geoffrey opened the door to their room, he found Elizabeth standing by the window, clutching her brother's hand. The little boy looked bewildered.
"Go to Roger, lad. He waits for you at the foot of the steps." Geoffrey's order lightened the expression on Thomas's face. He pulled free of Elizabeth's hold and ran for the door. It was Geoffrey's hand that stayed him. "Listen to me, Thomas. You do not leave Roger's side. Do you understand me?" His voice was firm.
The boy felt the seriousness of the order. "I will not leave his side," he said, frowning.
Geoffrey nodded and the boy hurried out the door. Slowly, while he gathered his thoughts and considered how much to tell his wife, Geoffrey shut the door. He turned to deal with Elizabeth and was surprised to find her bare inches from him. Her face and posture appeared relaxed, but her eyes told the truth. There was torment etched there, torment and pain.
Unused to comforting, Geoffrey awkwardly placed his hands on her shoulders. In a soft voice, he said, "I will have your word, Elizabeth, that you will hear what I am going to say. Hear and abide by my decision."
Elizabeth frowned. He was asking the impossible. "I cannot give you my word, my lord. I cannot! Do not ask this of me." She tried to control the anguish in her voice but found it impossible.
"Will you listen to me, then?" Geoffrey asked.
"You have found Belwain innocent." Geoffrey could feel Elizabeth's shoulders sag beneath his hands.
"I have not said that," Geoffrey answered.
"Then he is guilty in your eyes?"
"I have not said that either," Geoffrey snapped, growing irritated.
"But—"
"Stop this! I have asked you to listen to me," Geoffrey stated again. "And I do not want your interruptions until I am done. Will you give me that much, wife?"
Elizabeth could tell her husband was irritated with her and knew that he was finding it difficult to keep his patience. She was puzzled also by his manner. "I will not interrupt." The promise was made, and she would keep it.
"To begin," Geoffrey said, lightening his tone, "I do not have to tell you anything. You understand this?"
Elizabeth nodded, wishing him to go on. "You are my wife. I need tell you nothing. In future I most likely will not. It is not your place to know what I am thinking, what I am doing. Do you also understand this?"
In truth, Elizabeth did not. Her father had shared all his joys and worries with her mother. And that was as it should be. Why didn't her husband understand this? Were his parents so very different from her own? she wondered. She made a mental note to question him on this later. For now, she would agree. She nodded again and folded her hands.
Geoffrey let go of her shoulders and turned from her. He walked over to the two chairs, adjusted his sword, and sat. Propping his feet up on the edge of the bed, he looked over at his wife.
"Your uncle is nothing like your father," he began. "I find it hard to believe that they are indeed brothers." He stopped then, looking past Elizabeth.
"It is too simple, this solution," he said, more to himself than his puzzled wife. Elizabeth longed to interrupt, to ask him what he meant, but she kept her silence.
"I do not think Belwain is the one behind the massacre." There it was said. Geoffrey watched his wife react.
Elizabeth met his stare and waited. She sensed he was testing her somehow, but didn't understand his reasons. Didn't he know the agony she was going through?
Her composure pleased the warrior. "Answer me this, Elizabeth. Do you consider your uncle to be intelligent? Tell me what you know of his character."
Elizabeth sensed her answer would be important to her husband, though she did not know why. "I believe him to be self-centered and interested only in his pleasures."
"Your reasons?" Geoffrey asked.
"Whenever he came to visit, he never took time with my sisters or my brother, or me for that matter. The family didn't interest him. And as soon as my father came home, Belwain would begin with his wants, his needs. He was always asking for more, but never giving." Elizabeth walked over to the bed and sat down before she continued. "There was no love inside of Belwain, that is why I think him more than capable of doing the killings. He was totally lacking in loyalty too. I cannot give you an example of this but I know it in my heart. And to me, there is nothing more unholy than lack of loyalty. As to intelligence, no, I do not think Belwain uses his mind overly. Otherwise he would have learned long ago how to deal with my father. He would have used a different approach to get what he wanted."
"He is weak. Don't you agree?" Geoffrey asked.
"Yes, he is weak," Elizabeth agreed. "But full of evil too."
"I do not disagree or agree with you," Geoffrey said. "His manners do not please me," he admitted.
"My mother told my father that Belwain suffers from the king's complaint," she whispered. "I heard her."
"The king's complaint?" Geoffrey had never heard the expression.
Elizabeth's cheeks colored but she answered her husband's question. "To prefer men to women…"
Geoffrey acted like a bolt of lightning had been shot through his body. He came out of the chair in one giant bound. "William would cut out your tongue if he heard your blasphemy," he bellowed.
"Then it is not true?" Elizabeth asked, outwardly oblivious to her husband's anger.
"No, it is not true," Geoffrey barked. "Never utter those words again, wife. It is paramount to treason."
"Yes, husband," Elizabeth agreed. "I am glad it is not true."
"William is married," Geoffrey snapped. "And it is not proper to discuss—"
"But you can be married, can you not, and still prefer the company of other men?"
"Stop this, I say!" God, but she was exasperating! To speak of such a subject as though she was discussing family trivia both infuriated and amused him. She had much to learn.
"Yes, my lord." Elizabeth's voice sounded repentant, but Geoffrey wondered how sincere she really was. "I am sorry, husband. I have led you away from our topic."
"Uhmmm," Geoffrey grumbled deep in his throat. He sat back down and shook his head, in an action meant to clear his thoughts.
"I will tell you what I have thus far concluded, wife. Your uncle is a weak man. Weak and stupid."
"May I question you, husband?" Elizabeth asked, her tone mild.
"You may," Geoffrey stated.
"Will you kill him or must I?" Her softly spoken question jarred Geoffrey.
"For now, neither will. We have need for Belwain, Elizabeth. Now you will ask no more questions until I am done," he hurried to add.
Elizabeth nodded, frowning.
"I do not think he is the one behind the plan, though I feel he somehow participated. He is a follower, and too stupid to plan such a feat."
Elizabeth knew her husband spoke the truth. It was a difficult admission for her to make. Yet even from the beginning, while she concentrated all her hate on Belwain, there was a nagging uncertainty that he was not alone in the deed. Guilty, yes! But others involved? It was a possibility she had refused to consider until now.
"Belwain will be the bait, wife. I believe he will lead us to the one in hiding. I have a plan," he added, "and you will give me your word that you will cooperate."
"But who else stands to gain, husband?" Elizabeth asked, unable to keep her silence a moment longer.
"There is another," Geoffrey said. "Though I will not speak his name to you yet. I could be wrong. You will have to trust me in this, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth didn't respond but continued to look at her husband and wait.
"I now ask a most difficult thing from you," he said. "It will require courage."
"And what is that?" Elizabeth asked.
"You saw what happened, and you remember what those who didn't wear masks looked like," Geoffrey said. "Tonight the troops of Belwain
will be allowed inside."
Elizabeth's eyes widened but Geoffrey continued on. "Do not worry, we far outnumber his soldiers. There will be no danger. I will have you beside me at dinner, and you will have a chance to see if any of his men were part of the attack."
"Belwain will sit with us?" Elizabeth asked.
"He will sit with us," Geoffrey acknowledged. "I want him to think he is innocent in my eyes, Elizabeth. If he feels secure, he will slip."
"You ask a great deal," Elizabeth whispered. "I do not know if—"
"Can you be content with Belwain's death and live with the thought that there is another just as guilty?" Geoffrey argued.
Elizabeth took a long time to answer. "No, I could not be content. I would know all of the truth."
"Can you do what I ask?"
"Aye," Elizabeth answered, wondering inside if she really could or not. She honestly didn't know. "But could we not ride to their camp outside the walls instead of allowing them entrance?"
"No," Geoffrey announced. "It is safer for you here."
Elizabeth squared her shoulders and stood. "There is much to be done before tonight. I will instruct the cook," she said. Her hands were trembling. There was so much to think over. Elizabeth felt overwhelmed with confusion.
"Come here, Elizabeth," Geoffrey ordered, his tone gentle.
Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked over to stand at her husband's side. Before she could so much as blink, Geoffrey pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly on the lips. His breath was warm and mint-tasting. Elizabeth began to respond when Geoffrey ended the kiss. "I did not hurt you last night?" he asked in a quiet voice, smiling at the becoming blush his question spurred.
"Not overly much," Elizabeth answered, turning her gaze to his chin. She felt him chuckle and glanced back up to look into his eyes. There was tenderness there now. "I did not hurt you, my lord?" she asked innocently.
"Not overly," Geoffrey answered when the surprise of her question receded. He found he liked it when she teased him, liked to see the hint of a sparkle come into her eyes. God, but if he could end her torment over her family's deaths as soon as possible, he would. He wished to see only joy in her expression, hear her laughter.