The back of Pagnell’s hand slammed into Alyx’s jaw, sending her reeling. “I’ll ask for the advice of an underling like you when I want it. Is it Raine Montgomery who’s put ideas into your head? The man thinks he can reform all of England. He hides in the forest and sneers at anything material, spouting about the old ways of honor and nobility while the people of your class grow fat and rich.”
Alyx wiped blood from the corner of her mouth. “Raine is worth a hundred of you,” she said.
“Raine is it? No ‘Lord Raine’? Do you carry his brat? Is that what makes you think you’re so high and mighty? When the flames lick up your legs we shall see if the name of Montgomery is so gentle on your lips. John!” he said sharply. “Take Elizabeth away. Give her to Miles Montgomery and see what he wants to do with her. And John,” he warned, “Elizabeth’s virginity is a known fact, and I want her to arrive at Miles’s feet intact. Let all of Roger Chatworth’s wrath come onto the Montgomery heads and not mine. Do I make myself clear?”
John gave him an insolent look as he tossed the bundle containing Elizabeth across his shoulder. “Montgomery will receive her in the best possible condition.”
“But make sure he is inclined to forget she is a high-born lady. See if you can rearrange her clothing to stir his blood.”
With a parting grin, John left the cellar.
“What do you want from me?” Alyx asked, backing away from Pagnell as he came closer to her. “I have done you no wrong.”
He glared at her big belly. “You have given to another man what should have been mine.” He grabbed her arm and pushed a small, sharp dagger to her ribs. “Now, go up the stairs and out the door and then to the stables. If you make a single sound it will be your last.”
Her breath held, Alyx had no choice but to obey him. Once in the great hall there were guests milling about, but no one paid the least attention to Pagnell and the cheaply clad girl. They were nursing swollen heads and bruised bodies from where they’d slept across stools and tables.
Alyx searched for Jocelin, but she saw no sign of him. Every time she attempted to move her head, Pagnell’s knife pushed harder against her until she kept her head straight. Perhaps Jocelin didn’t know she was in trouble. Perhaps he was with a woman and hadn’t yet discovered she was missing from the hall. For all their closeness, they respected each other’s privacy. There were whole days when they didn’t see each other and no questions were asked later.
Outside, Pagnell pushed her toward the stables, where he bellowed to a servant to saddle his horse. Before Alyx could think, she was slammed into the saddle, Pagnell behind her, and they set off at a pace that made Alyx’s teeth jar.
It was nightfall when they finally stopped before a tall stone house at the edge of a small village. Pagnell pulled her from the horse, grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.
A short, fat, balding man greeted them. “You took longer than I thought. Now what is so important I must wait for you this late at night?”
“This,” Pagnell said, pushing Alyx into the room before him. It was a large, dark room, a few candles on a table at one end.
“What do I care for a dirty, pregnant lowling like that? Surely you could have found a tastier bit than that for your sport.”
“Get over there,” Pagnell commanded, pushing her toward the table. “If you say one word I’ll slit your throat.”
Too tired to reply, Alyx moved, sank down to the floor before an empty fireplace in a shapeless heap.
“Explain,” the fat man said to Pagnell.
“What, uncle, no welcome, no wine?”
“If your news is good enough, I will feed you.”
Pagnell sat down in a chair before the table, studying the sputtering candles. It wasn’t that his uncle was so poor that made him use such cheap tallow but that for the last three years the man had done little except wait for his own death.
“What are your feelings toward Raine Montgomery?” Pagnell asked softly, watching with interest as his uncle’s face turned from white to red to purple.
“How can you say that man’s name to me in my own house?” he gasped. Three years before, in a tournament, Raine had killed Robert Digges’s only child. No matter that the son had been trying to kill Raine rather than just unhorse him or that his son had already killed one man and severely wounded another that day. It had been Raine’s lance that had taken Robert’s son’s life.
“I thought you felt the same way,” Pagnell smiled. “Now I have a way to repay the man.”
“How can you? The man hides in the forest and not even the King can find him.”
“But our good king doesn’t have the bait that I do.”
“No!” Alyx shouted, getting to her feet with what strength she had left.
“See,” Pagnell said, amused, “with every breath she takes she defends the man. Whose child do you carry?”
Alyx gave him a stubborn look. If she hadn’t tried to reassure Elizabeth about the Montgomery men, Pagnell wouldn’t know about her relationship with Raine, but Elizabeth had helped her.
“Pagnell,” Robert commanded, “tell me all of your story.”