to bring her. Bryce spotted cart tracks as they came upon the house. They could belong to none other than the cart Robert had stolen.
Bryce whispered to him. “Milord, the men,”
William looked around. Bryce was not referring to their own men, but to Ferdinand’s.
Many stepped forward, standing around open doorways or atop the stairs, their hands on their weapons, all staring down mistrustfully.
“We outnumber them,” William said, returning his attention to Ferdinand, who stood much straighter now.
William drew his sword. So did all the men under Ferdinand’s employment. The slide of their blades echoing in the spacious room.
William’s men inside the house did the same, and he heard the draw of their weapons as well.
“I’ll not ask you again!” He could hardly contain his anger, though he knew there would be no honor in killing an old man.
Ferdinand raised his disfigured hands and signaled for his men to put away their weapons. “As I have said, milord, your wife is not here. You are, of course, welcome to search the house if it would please you.”
“Aye,” William sheathed his weapon. “It would.”
***
Marianne’s father struggled with the stone above their heads until he managed to slide it aside. Cold air assaulted Marianne’s face and the falling snow disoriented her. ‘Twas falling thicker now than before.
Holton helped her out of the hole she was in. After seeing the headstones, Marianne recognized herself to be in the family graveyard.
She stared at the stone belonging to the hole they had climbed out from. ‘Twas the old stone with the faded letters. Whenever she had asked of it her father never gave a proper answer of which relative it was. Now she knew why.
Her eyes sought out the stones of her brothers, and she sighed when she found them unharmed. Even the stone of Justin, who had died before she was born, was untouched.
“I thought he would have destroyed them.”
Holton struggled to return the stone to its place, also sparing them a glace before taking her hand. “I have seen to it that he has not.”
Marianne jerked her hand away. Now that they were safe she felt Robert’s betraying words coming back to her. “Is this why you came to Graystone? Hoping that selling me would spare their graves?”
He gave her a pleading look. “I thought I was able to do it, but betraying you in life would have been no better than betraying them in death. I could not do what Ferdinand asked of me, so I took what I could and sold myself to him.”
Marianne touched Reggie’s stone, brushing the snow from it as if dusting a precious heirloom. Dead for nearly eight years but it seemed only yesterday he’d fallen from his horse. The pain of losing her brothers erased her anger with her father.
“You could not save them in life, so you tried in death.”
She looked at him, at the filthy clothing he wore, recognized what he had risked to save her from Ferdinand’s chamber, and she forgave him.
She hugged him. Holton tensed as her arms wrapped around his body before putting his arms around her.
For the first time in years, Marianne felt his love.
He lifted her face. “We will have to be quick now if we are to get you back to Graystone before Ferdinand finds that you are missing.”
Marianne opened her mouth to agree whole heartedly when she heard something unfamiliar. She moved away from Holton and began climbing the small hill that shielded her and her father from the view from the house.
“Marianne! Stop!” Her father hissed, but she paid him no mind as she peeked over the hilltop and gasped at the sight.
Knights, men-at-arms, and squires, hundreds of them, stood patiently waiting outside the former Holton manor.
Marianne’s heart beat faster. Those men were not there when she arrived.
Happiness consumed her. “William came for me.”
“What? I heard that servant speaking to Ferdinand. He said Lord Gray would not think to come here for a while yet.”
Marianne shook her head. She didn’t know how he had known to come so quickly. Robert had ridden the cart at a leisurely pace through his hidden path. William must have run the horses nearly to death to catch up with her the long way.
Then she spotted him. Through the fog of falling snow, James sat with a stiff back on his horse, a wrap around his head and a surly look on his red face. Robert hadn’t killed him after all.
“We have to go down there!”
Holton grabbed her arm to stop her,