When she stepped into the room, Judith was met by such a murderous look from her husband that she knew she had been found out in some way. She couldn't brazen it out with lies, for William was sober and in control of himself. She hadn't seen him like this since the time he discovered she had tricked him into marrying her. He was looking at her as if he wanted to kill her. She would have to throw herself on his mercy and play for time until they were left alone and she could get him to drinking again.

Her fear was real enough as she threw herself at her husband. Tears came quickly, and she looked up at him beseechingly.

"William, whatever you think I have done, I am still your wife. I have served you well and—"

The back of his hand sent her sprawling to the floor. "Served me well?

I am nearly dead from what you have served me!" he spat.

Judith's fingers touched her burning face, her stomach twisting in knots, remembering the last beating he had given her. She was no longer aware of Rolfe. Her husband's hate-filled eyes impaled her. He would show no mercy, she knew that. She would have to save herself with lies after all.

"No one could have stopped you from drinking yourself into oblivion, William," she said. "I did not like it, but what could I do?"

"Liar!" he hissed, and she cringed as he took a step toward her. "You encouraged my drinking. Do you think I don't see that now? And the one person who could have helped me wasn't here. You made certain of that.

You made certain she did not return here, while you lied to me, convinced me I saw her often. Why did you keep Leonie away from me?"

Judith froze in terror. How had he figured so much out already?

Desperate, she latched on to the first thing that came to her. "I did it for you, and for her. Can you not see how devastated she would have been to see you as you were? I tried to save you from shame. And I tried to protect her innocence."

"By Christ's holy blood! Do you take me for a complete fool?" William snarled. "The only one you were protecting was your despicable self! You knew I wanted none of you. You knew you would have been cast out if I had come to my senses. So you kept me senseless. And I believe you kept my daughter away by making her think she was not welcome here." He saw the truth of this in Judith's eyes, and he reached for her.

Rolfe stopped him. It was not in him to stand by and watch a woman beaten, though he knew how William would deal with her later, when there was no one to stop him.

"My lord, I would have a word with her." Rolfe's tone impliedbeforeyou do what you will.

William forced himself to muster some control. He owed Rolfe whatever he could give him.

Rolfe extended a hand to Judith, and helped her up. "Why did you have my wife beaten?"

His voice was deceptively calm, and Judith's eyes flew to William, looking for his reaction. But his face registered nothing. Had he already known about the beating? She looked back at Rolfe.

"It was necessary," she said defensively. "She refused to marry you. Do you think I wanted us to go against the king?"

"You took it upon yourself—without your lord's consent?" Rolfe ventured softly.

"I could hardly depend on him to get her to the altar," she said with a glance of contempt at William that she failed to hide. "The king must be obeyed."

"There were other ways!" Rolfe said furiously. "You could have sent me word and left the matter to me!"

Judith stared at him incredulously. "You dare to quibble about the means, when you were only after her land. Itoldyou she was forced to wed you. You got what you wanted. What difference does it make how you got it?"

It took every bit of self-restraint Rolfe possessed not to strike her. "You know nothing about it."

"Not so!" she said, sneering. What was he making this fuss about? She had enough to deal with already. "You offered for Pershwick before you offered for Leonie. When I refused both offers, you asked the king's help!"

The words out, Judith paled. "I—I mean—I—"

"Judith." William interrupted her stammering with a weary sigh.

"How many offers have you refused in my stead? How long would you have kept Leonie unmarried?"

"She did not want to marry," Judith asserted. "I saw no need to give up

. . . her lands were well run. Why should someone else profit from them?"

The two men stared at her silently.

"What did I do that was so wrong?" Judith demanded. "I tell you Leonie did not want to marry. Why else would she flatly refuse Lord Kempston?"

"She had reasons for refusing me of which you know nothing," Rolfe interjected coldly. "Madame, what you have done to Leonie warrants . . . but you are not my concern. All I demand from you is the name of the man who follows your orders, any kind of orders."

Her chin jutted out stubbornly. "There is not a man here who would hesitate—"

William hit her again. "Tell him what he wants to know, or by God—"

"Richer Calveley!" Judith threw the name out for whatever leniency it might bring her. She didn't give Richer another thought, and would never have considered protecting him. "He—he is my master-at-arms and was the logical one to force Leonie because she knew what he was capable of."

Rolfe turned and left the room, leaving William to deal with his wife in whatever way he would.

When he found Richer Calveley in the barracks with his men, a change took place in Rolfe's countenance. His fury hid itself deep within him.

The man was huge and brutish, the arms and chest beefy, the hands enormous. Leonie's beating must have been brutal. His little wife was incapable of defending herself against a man this size. How brave and foolish she must have been to think she could withstand this monster!

She never had a chance, and so Calveley would have no chance.

When Richer saw Rolfe d'Ambert's eyes he knew instantly why he had been sought out. He spared a moment to curse the faithless lady who had thrown him to the wolves. But he had known when she ordered him to beat Lord William's daughter what might come of it.

He had enjoyed that experience because the lady was a noblewoman, but her status was also what condemned him. It didn't matter who had ordered him to do what he did. There was not a lord in the realm who would hesitate to kill him for raising his hand to a lady. And this was the lady's husband.

Richer began to sweat, wondering in what manner his death would come, for death is what he saw in the lord's eyes. His death might be the most horrible imaginable, torture to last indefinitely. No one would prevent it. He was surrounded by men who followed his orders, yet not one of them would dare defy a man of d'Ambert's stature. It was a putrid feeling, the fear that took hold in his gut, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop what would happen to him.

"Richer Calveley?" Rolfe did not wait for confirmation, for he could smell the man's fear. His voice was curiously flat, making it sound all the more ominous. "For what you did to my lady, I am going to kill you.

Draw your sword."

It took a second for Richer to realize his good fortune, and then there was a rush of giddiness as he realized his death would not be drawn out after all. The lord was not going to take advantage of his rank. He was going to give him a fair fight, more than a fair fight, because he was not wearing armor, though Richer had at least a modicum of protection in his thick leather jerkin.

There was a chance for Richer to win, a good chance, but it was set somewhere in his mind that he was going to die, and that destroyed his chance, worked against him, and undermining his skill. Once his sword was in his hand, he swung wildly.

Rolfe's sword found its mark with his first effort, sliding smoothly through flesh and bone to pierce the heart. No pity stirred in Rolfe's own breast, no regret for killing a man. In his mind was a picture of his Leonie suffering under those brutish hands. He turned and walked away before Calveley's large body had collapsed to the floor.

Chapter 42

THE pasture was abloom with summer flowers warmed by the midafternoon sun. By contrast, the surrounding forest was dark and gloomy. The forest kept the eight men and their horses well hidden.

Alain Montigny was satisfied when he looked their way that his seven men could not be seen. A group of ragtag thieves and landless knights like himself, they were Alain's following, their needs paid for with the money the Crewel steward had stolen for Alain. But that easy money was no longer available since Erneis had been found out. Alain had dispatched him quickly, his usefulness over. It still rankled Alain that Leonie had been the one to catch his man.

Alain needed money desperately now. The few travelers his men and he had robbed produced light purses, and there wasn't enough money to keep his band of men fed. The men wanted to move on to the better traveled routes, farther south, but Alain had his own personal reason for being where he was. He had no intention of leaving until he found his chance to kill the man responsible for his terrible reversal of fortune. He had almost succeeded when he'd set the Crewel mill on fire and drawn his prey to where he could take a good aim at him. What an unexpected bit of bad luck that his arrow hadn't found a vital spot.

It was taking too long, waiting to find Rolfe d'Ambert away from his army, or separated from his escort. If only Alain could catch him unprotected, d'Ambert could be overcome by Alain's men and easily killed. Then Alain could marry Leonie and have back all that was his, all that he had lost.