LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Two

      Clare returned from the church with Bridget the day following her brother’s funeral to find her uncle waiting for her in the hall. He turned from the hearth as she entered and she saw that he was frowning slightly, as if in deep thought.

      ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked as she came quickly to join him, holding out her chilled hands to the blaze. ‘You look worried.’

      ‘I’ve had a courier arrive from London and feel I should leave early tomorrow. There are matters decided in Council which might need my attention.’

      She seated herself in the chair and leaned forward, staring into the cheerful flames which sent the shadows in the hall dancing, for the day was again a grey one and there was little light in the place. She felt chilled to the bone, for she had spent over an hour kneeling on the cold stone before the altar praying for her brother’s soul and those others who had died in the attack on the Devane manor.

      Sir Gilbert turned to dismiss Bridget, who hovered in the doorway waiting for orders, and moved about a trifle fretfully until the girl had gone. He rubbed his hands together distractedly and Clare could see he still had something disturbing him.

      ‘You must go,’ she said mildly. ‘It is your duty. I shall be safe here. As you said, any reprisal would be slow in coming since the defending force at the Devane Manor has been decimated. It will take time for Robert Devane to muster any household sufficient even to repair the damage, let alone lead a force against us. In any case, the man is on the run and unlikely to be able to complain about the summary justice meted out to his family.’

      She recalled again her uncle’s fury directed against the two guards left on duty outside the barn when he discovered his important prisoner had escaped.

      ‘I’ll hang the pair of them,’ he’d stormed. ‘Aye, and the drunken sots in the stables who, apparently, were so gone in ale that they heard nothing. God’s teeth, how could it have been managed? Devane had to have help. The two guards were struck down. His friends must have climbed the wall and got him clean away. That couldn’t have been easy if the fellow’s wound was as bad as you said. It was sheer negligence, the result of over-indulgence following their too-easy victory. I should hang and thrash a few to encourage the rest to remember their duties in future.’

      Clare had patiently pleaded for the injured guards. Both were nursing sore heads. One had been very dazed indeed—she had wondered if he had suffered some permanent damage to the brain from the severe blow to the back of his head that he had taken from the rescuers, whoever they had been. Neither man could be blamed. Their attackers had obviously come silently and stealthily. They had accomplished their purpose and fled immediately into the night with the prisoner and Clare, for one, had been thankful.

      There had been more than enough violence and death over the last few days to wish not to add to the score the Devanes would have cause to settle. Privately she had been thankful that the cheery red-headed prisoner had escaped the rope. Her uncle, though still seething, had calmed down after a while and granted the two threatened men clemency.

      But he had made his anger known pithily and the sergeant had seen to it that no one in the household repeated the offence of negligence and the manor had been restored to a seeming normality—if it could ever be again when its young master lay coffined, awaiting burial.

      There had been so much to be done over the past days that she had not allowed herself to think about the time when she would be left alone on the manor, unprotected. Now the moment had come upon her all too soon.

      Her uncle was still restlessly prowling the room. Abruptly he stopped and faced her, his thumbs thrust into his sword belt.

      ‘You realise, Clare, that your position here has changed dramatically. You are now a very wealthy heiress and your prospects considerably improved, as, also, your possible danger.’

      She stared at him incredulously. ‘I had not thought…’

      ‘There are men who will now covet your fortune, men who would stoop to take advantage of your vulnerability. It would be impracticable to leave you here, even with a garrison of my own choosing.’

      She waited for his decision, a little breathless with dread. Did he wish her to go to his own manor in Northamptonshire? If so, her role would not be much changed from the one she had envisaged as poor relation to Peter and his wife. Sir Gilbert’s lady, her aunt, would not welcome her, especially since she was now to be sought after in marriage and Sir Gilbert’s own daughters, her two cousins, whom she rarely met, would feel likely to be in competition with her for suitors.

      No. She straightened her shoulders determinedly. She would not go. Life there would be insupportable and she would not have it thrust upon her.

      ‘I have decided to place you under the protection of the Queen,’ he announced. ‘Margaret will welcome you as an attendant, and at Court you will have opportunity to see and be seen by suitable suitors. In arranging a marriage for you, the Queen would find some advantage as she could, in this way, cement the loyalty of the successful candidate for your hand, to say nothing of other suitors who would be anxious to secure her goodwill.

      ‘We cannot leave you now without royal protection. The country is

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