Lilliane was startled by this first indication that there were others with William. It might make her task even more difficult.

A burly fellow stepped forward carrying a large basket from which the child's angry cries were coming. At once Lilliane knelt on the ground and carefully lifted little Elyse from the jumble of blankets. She did not speak as she swiftly removed the soaked linen from the baby and fastened fresh cloths around her. Then she tucked her neatly within the protective wicker and warm wool.

Lilliane's mind had been working rapidly as she'd attended the child, trying to form some plan. Now when she looked up at William she saw he was flanked by two men, their forms more discernible as the clouds thinned and the moon showed feebly in the haze.

"I think she's already ill," Lilliane lied. "She's much too young to be out in such cruel weather. If she's not put before a warm fire soon she will not survive. Babies are frail creatures. You can't drag her around-"

"She'll survive. And if she doesn't do not despair. I know you will give me a son."

The very callousness of his words struck Lilliane speechless, even more than his outrageous a.s.sumptions about the two of them. He didn't care at all about Elyse. She was simply the bait he'd used to get her to come to him.

With an effort she managed to subdue her fury. She stood up with the basket in her arms. "William, we must find her shelter."

"We ride to Burgram Abbey. She'll manage well enough."

"But, William, I hardly imagine Mother Mary Catherine will take us in if she believes I've deserted my husband."

"You need not worry on that account for long, Lilliane. Besides, you forget that he's a murderer. He murdered your father and no one has taken him to task for it. But he'll pay for everything he's done. I've seen to it."

The icy rage in his voice sent a shudder of pure terror through Lilliane. She hugged the now-quiet baby closer to her as her mind raced desperately for some way to escape him.

It was clear he intended more than simply to flee with her and Elyse. He wanted to wreak his revenge on Corbett. He'd used Elyse as the bait to draw her in. Could she now be the bait to draw Corbett into his trap? Suddenly, she saw how foolish she'd been to come to him so easily. An icy dread filled her as she realized she might be used to cause Corbett's downfall.

Lilliane was wooden as William took her arm and led her to her horse. There would be no talking him into changing his mind, she understood now. Her only hope was that she might somehow escape with Elyse.

But as William took the baby and helped Lilliane mount, he must have sensed her hesitation. Instead of giving her the reins, he led her horse to his, then wrapped the reins about the raised pommel of his cloth-covered saddle. It was only then that he handed her Elyse's basket.

"Keep the child quiet as we ride," he ordered.

"Please, William. You cannot do this," Lilliane pleaded. "It's wrong and it will never work."

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken. We have always been right. It was that hideous second son of Colchester who was wrong for you. But your father just would not see it."

He swung up onto his own horse. "And as for not getting away with it, I told you, you will soon be a widow. I need a wife. You'll need a husband. You're already mother to my child. No, it will all turn out as it should have years ago."

Lilliane had turned pale at William's confident threat against Corbett. "What do you plot against him?" she cried.

William frowned at the frightened note in Lilliane's voice. When he spoke this time, his anger was directed at her. "So he has turned you against me! Well, you will get over him, Lilliane, I a.s.sure you. Your Sir Corbett will be brought down by his own brother. Then you and I shall rule at Orrick."

It was a madman's reasoning, and Lilliane could make no sense of it at all. If Hughe were desperate enough to kill Corbett, then why would he allow William to rule at Orrick? And then, why should Hughe want his brother dead? Lilliane did not doubt that Hughe had such treachery in him, but she could discern no motive for such a vile act.

William led the way with Lilliane and Elyse directly following. His two henchmen were silent as they rode along behind them. As they regained the turnpike and continued south, the situation seemed unreal to Lilliane.

Corbett was no less unbelieving as he towered over the quaking Ferga.

"Both she and the babe?" he thundered as the woman cowered before his fury.

"She ... she went after the child," Ferga mumbled with her head bowed low and her shoulders hunched against the expectations of a blow. But no blow came. When she chanced a terrified glance at Corbett, the pain she saw on his face gave her the courage to speak further. "William came first. He took Elyse and gave me a note for milady."

"What did the note say?" It was Dunn who broke in.

"I-I don't know," the maid admitted sorrowfully. "But she was certain she could convince him to return."

"So your wife is run away with William."

Corbett stiffened at the sound of his brother's voice.

"How inopportune that she should do so amid such merry-making and with so many guests present." Hughe paused and, despite his attempt at solicitousness a spark of malice crept into his tone. "Of course, she and William no doubt planned it in just such a fashion to take advantage of the confusion within the castle. You cannot forget that she is the daughter of a murderer, no matter how enamored you may have become of her pretty face."

With a fierce growl Corbett lunged toward him. Had not Dunn prevented it, he would have struck his brother down. As it was Hughe fell back several paces before regaining his composure.

"Your anger at me is sorely misguided!" he exclaimed, sputtering. "Better that you accept my aid in finding her than strike out at me so unfairly!"

Corbett's anger was a terrible thing to behold, and yet with a supreme effort he fought it down. Then he turned to Dunn. "Order the horses. Bring four of the guard." He turned abruptly to go, then stopped and stared intently at Hughe. "Will you ride with us, brother?"

It was said unemotionally, as if there were no misunderstandings between them or years of bitterness. But the very calm of his voice seemed to chill the room.

"I'll ride with you. After all, we must maintain a united front. Colchester and Orrick together create a mighty force. If your wife is successful in her flight, it would only cause a new wave of discord in Windermere Fold."

Corbett did not deign to reply. He watched as Hughe and Dunn both left to prepare for their imminent departure to search for the missing Lilliane. But as he donned his own short leather tunic and reached for his knife and sword, he spied Ferga huddled still in the corner.

"You may go," he ordered curtly as he stooped to lace on his tall leather boots.

"You must not be angry with milady," Ferga murmured in a small, frightened voice.

"Indeed?" Corbett bit the word out. "It seems her very purpose in life is to anger me. To mock me, to thwart me, to make a fool of me." He finished with the ominous slither of his sword into the leather scabbard at his side.

"She loves you."

The maid's words were but a whisper. Yet they froze Corbett in his place. His emotions could not be contained as he stared at her, and Ferga took heart at both the longing and the doubt she saw etched on his hard features.

"You cannot know that. Did she say such a thing to you?

"Some things are not always said with words. But if you were paying attention, then you would know it nonetheless."

At Corbett's doubting look she smiled faintly and nodded her head. "Aye, she loves you."

Corbett started to speak again then stopped and stared intently at her, as if he might somehow be able to see the truth or falseness of her words if he only looked hard enough. Finally he took a heavy breath and reached for his mantle.

He did not speak to her as he quit the room, but Ferga heard his quiet plea as he strode away. "Pray let it be so, for 'tis certain that I love her."

In the bailey there was much confusion and curiosity among those guests who had not yet sought their beds. But Corbett's thunderous expression forbade any questions. As the men mounted their nervous steeds, Dunn pulled Corbett aside. "I do not like this at all. It behooves you to watch your back."

"That's why I keep you with me," Corbett answered dryly. "To watch my back for me."

Dunn scowled. "Do not treat this lightly-"

"Believe me when I say I do not!"

Corbett started to mount but Dunn caught his arm. "You should know that your wife and your brother had a long 'private' conversation this afternoon."

Corbett stared at Dunn. "Does this mean you reverse yourself once more where Lily is concerned? Or do you now believe Hughe is innocent of any scheming as well?"

Dunn opened his mouth then closed it. Finally he took a weary breath. "I don't know what to believe. I only know that nothing about this night is an accident. Anything could await us out there. We should not go out with such a small force."

"We must travel swiftly," Corbett snapped. "A full contingent of men would only slow us down. If you're frightened then stay behind. But I must find Lily before any harm befalls her."

With that he shook off his friend's arm. The other men were right behind, with Hughe and Dunn bringing up the rear.

Lilliane rode as slowly as she could. Despite the lead rein that William kept on her mare, she managed to guide Aere into bushes, snag her skirt in shrubs, or alternately urge Aere to crowd William's horse and startle it. Yet despite the meager satisfaction she received from her actions, she knew they were useless. With every pace they drew farther and farther away from Orrick. Even the clearing sky seemed designed to thwart her, for in a storm she might have managed to escape. Now, however, the moon aided their flight to Burgram Abbey. She could only hope that Corbett had somehow found out and was coming for her. Even if he was angry and jealous and completely mistaken about her motives, she prayed that he was coming.

They were at the river beginning to ford it when she chanced another glance backward.

"You need not fear his pursuit. Hughe will prevent him from ever bothering us again."

Lilliane fought to still the panic his boastful words roused in her. "What does Hughe plan? Why is he ... helping you this way?"

William slowed his horse as they cautiously made their way through the nearly chest-deep water. "Hughe knows Corbett will not rest until he purges this area of all but the king's staunchest supporters."

"Doesn't Hughe support King Edward?"

William shrugged. "We in the north have more often than not been forgotten by old King Henry. His son is too interested in affairs abroad to concern himself with us any better than did his sire. But there are nearly enough of us now ..."

He trailed off at a shout from one of his two men. "Someone moves along the road behind us!"

"Where?" William squinted into the darkness, searching for some sign that they were indeed being followed.

"It could just be Hughe," Lilliane said in an effort to relax William's guard.

"Perhaps." He grunted. "But we can't be sure. Hurry. If we can't outrun them then we shall hide at the base of the stone."

Lilliane felt equal measures of fear and hope as she hugged the sleeping Elyse close. Please let it be Corbett, she prayed fervently. And dear G.o.d, please keep him safe ...

Corbett urged his stalwart mount to an even faster pace when the moon, glancing off the river, illuminated several figures.

"So you have caught up with your wayward wife and her lover." Hughe grunted as he kicked his horse to keep up with Corbett. "You can easily slice William apart, but that will hardly endear you to your wife."

Corbett did not even spare a glance at Hughe, so intent was he on reaching Lilliane. It was as if nothing mattered in the entire world-not England, nor Edward, not even Orrick and Colchester-so long as Lilliane was returned safely to him.

He did not pause in his headlong flight when he reached the river. By the time Qismah had made the other side, he could see the small band of riders approaching the Middling Stone at a mad gallop.

Hughe was somewhere behind him. Dunn and his men were farther back still when he heard Dunn cry "To arms! To arms!"

Corbett drew up at once, turned and saw a group of mounted men attacking his small band. William had planned well, he thought with a vicious oath. For a moment he hesitated. Dunn and the others were his trusted comrades. They'd fought together and saved one another countless times.

And yet there was Lilliane, and he could not turn back.

His decision was made in an instant. He did not hear Hughe's foul oath when he turned Qismah toward the ominous shadow of the Middling Stone. He did not second-guess the orders Dunn shouted as, blade against blade, his knights fought back the men who'd laid in wait for them. He only leaned low over his stallion's neck and prayed for Lilliane's safekeeping.

The first of William's henchmen was no opposition at all. With one whistling stroke of his long blade Corbett severed the man's arm at the shoulder. He did not wait to watch him fall.

His quarry had reached the base of the jagged outcropping before Corbett caught them. This time the man who faced him was ready for the attack. Yet he fared no better than his comrade. One stroke, a second, and then a third time the broadswords clashed in a grim dance of death. But as the men closed quarters Corbett drew his knife. With one swift upward stroke he deftly disemboweled the man. There was a terrible gurgling sound as he wrenched the knife free. Then he kicked Qismah away from the other horse and started up in earnest after William.

He was not mindful of Hughe's steady pursuit, nor of the now-m.u.f.fled sounds of the battle beyond the river. His every sense was focused on the sound of hooves on the rocks above and of the thin wail of a child.

Lilliane was terrified as William whipped her horse to climb before him. The darkness, the awful sounds of battle carried in the chill night wind, and his desperate persistence filled her with dread. That it was Corbett who trailed them so doggedly she did not doubt. But even as he closed in on them, her fears for him magnified.

When the horses could go no farther, William jumped down and dragged her down as well. "Climb!" he ordered wildly. "Climb!"

Too frightened to disobey, Lilliane scrambled upward, holding the basket with the now-wailing baby inside tightly before her. In the dark she stumbled and almost fell yet still she went forward, oblivious to the pain. At a wide s.p.a.ce on the meager trail she paused for breath, then dodged William's hand as he grabbed for her.

"I'll go no farther!" she cried as she backed into a narrow crevice, sheltering Elyse in her arms. "You must stop this madness now, William!"

"Madness! You call it madness when all I want is to love you? To marry you?"

"I am already married to another. And I love him!"

Her words were lost on the wind as a huge figure leapt forward to confront William. There was no mistaking Corbett, and Lilliane could have wept with relief. But the scene was far from played out, and she held her breath as the two men faced off against one another.

"Back off. Back off, I say!" William screamed.

In contrast to William's desperate tone, Corbett's voice was low and controlled. "Back off? Or what? Shall you threaten your daughter? Or my wife? Is that the kind of man you are?" He sneered in contempt.

"She should never have married you!"

"But she did. And what is mine is mine."

"Yes. You would keep her. But only as a possession! Only as something to own! But I love her. I always have. And she loves me!" He moved to cut off Corbett's approach to Lilliane.

"You delude yourself, William, in this as in so many other things. Lilliane does not love you. She loves me." He paused and even in the dark on the windswept ledge his eyes found hers. "And I love her."

Lilliane could hardly breathe for the tightness in her throat. Her dear, sweet love! He was here for her, fighting for her, declaring his love for her in spite of all that had gone wrong between them.

"Corbett," she whispered. Then it became a scream of warning. "Corbett!"

How he avoided the deathblow Hughe intended she did not know. From a quick feint to his left he rose to a wary crouch, watching two figures now.

"You said he'd never catch us!" William screamed at Hughe. "Where in the b.l.o.o.d.y name of G.o.d were you!

"Shut up!" Hughe snarled. He kept his eyes on Corbett. "It doesn't matter. We have him now and he will die."

Although Corbett did not appear surprised by his brother's foul action, it was clear he was baffled by his motives. "What has led to this? What has led you to embrace treason ... and fratricide?"

"Is it treason to defend your home? To seek to strengthen it?"

"If it is only for your own personal gain, then yes, it is treason. You have no need to fear Edward as king. He is a man of the law. He'll unite England."

"His father was a b.u.mbling fool! He created nothing but dissension, and Edward was his fist in keeping power away from the barons."