LITMIR.BIZ

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they had learned from Tihell in Winchester, refused to digest what the lad was saying. ‘She’s gone?’ This was what he had feared would happen from the moment Tihell had informed him that Emma of Fulford had been tracked going onto the Downs a few miles south of here. So why should he feel as though the ground had been cut away beneath his feet? Why was there a pain in his chest?

      Herfu nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’

      ‘You are certain she went willingly?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      Adam’s heart fell to his boots. ‘Well, Maurice,’ he said, disgusted to hear a distinct tremor in his voice, ‘it seems Tihell was in the right. Her sister is in the area. Would you care to lay odds on my wife having joined her sister with the Saxon rebels?’

      Rising, Maurice stood awkwardly at Adam’s side and jerked his head towards Gudrun, who had laid aside her sewing and was openly observing Adam’s reaction. ‘I’m not so sure, sir. That one knows more, I’m sure.’

      Thrusting his ale at Maurice, Adam strode straight to Gudrun. ‘Where is my lady?’

      Gudrun’s eyes met his steadily. ‘I do not know.’

      Maurice was right. The housekeeper did know something. Her gaze was just a little too unflinching. If Adam had thought it would do any good he would have hauled the woman to her feet and shaken the truth out of her. Instead, he waved Brian Herfu over. ‘Herfu?’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘What happened after I left for Winchester? Full report. What did my wife do?’

      Brian swallowed. ‘She…she set us all tasks. The slaughtering being done, Lufu and the women were put in charge of the salting and curing, the troop was to dig new latrines, and Harold and Carl were to gather wood. Lady Cecily led me to believe she left to check up on them.’

      ‘Led you to believe, you say?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      Briefly closing his eyes, Adam forced himself to face the fact that Cecily had deliberately set out to deceive his man. And, if that was the case, her loyalties were no longer in question. His wife had betrayed them. Had betrayed him. Pain sliced through him—the worst kind of pain, a pain that was every bit as keen as the pain he had felt when Gwenn had died. No, no.

      He hardened his heart. He could not care. He did not care. He had sworn that never again would he care to the point when it hurt.

      ‘It…it was awkward, sir,’ Brian was saying. ‘After the baby vanished.’

      ‘Baby? What the hell is going on?’

      With a sigh, Gudrun shoved the needle into her work and set it aside. ‘Philip, sir.’ She cleared her throat. ‘He was lost this morning.’

      ‘Lost?’ Adam was utterly at sea. The woman was telling him, as coolly as you please, that the baby she doted on was lost. Why did she not look more concerned? Nothing made any sense.

      Except the bald fact that Cecily was not at Fulford.

      Had she gone to escape him? Or to join his enemies? But even these questions, important as they were, were lost under an overriding question: was Cecily safe?

      And now here was Gudrun, placidly telling him that baby Philip had been lost. He struggled to concentrate. Was she safe?

      ‘He was stolen. Abducted,’ Gudrun said. ‘Your men could not find him, and when they stopped looking Lady Cecily went to search for him herself.’

      Adam rubbed his forehead. What was he missing? Gudrun was too calm—far too calm. She had to know where Philip had been taken, which meant that she knew where Cecily had gone. They were all in on it. He smothered a curse. ‘Did she have a groom with her?’

      ‘Yes, sir. In a manner of speaking,’ Herfu chipped in.

      ‘In a manner of speaking?’

      ‘Wat accompanied her.’

      ‘Wat? Christ on the cross—that boy’s no proper escort!’

      Herfu looked at the floor. ‘Sir, it was as I said. Lady Cecily implied that she would remain within earshot.’

      ‘Hell’s teeth.’ Adam glared at the downbent head. ‘Sometimes, Herfu, you haven’t got the sense you were born with.’

      ‘I’m sorry, sir.’ His foot jiggled. ‘Th…there’s more…’

      ‘Out with it.’

      ‘It’s about the cook—Lufu. She’s vanished.’

      ‘Again?’

      ‘Yes, sir. I’ve just been to the cookhouse, and Evie says she’s not seen her for the past hour or more. She and her husband have been salting meat on their own. The miller’s mule has gone too.’

      Adam swore, and snatched up his sword. ‘Maurice!’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘Find me a dry cloak, and saddle that grey gelding. And the two blacks.’

      ‘We’re going out again, sir?’

      ‘Clever boy.’

      ‘Full arms, sir?’

      ‘Yes to the helm, and no to the mail. I’m not about to draw attention to myself, which is why I’ll take the gelding and not Flame.’

      Maurice opened his mouth and closed it.

      Adam gritted his teeth. ‘What?’

      ‘Sir Richard wouldn’t approve, sir.’

      ‘Sir Richard isn’t here to approve or disapprove. But we will wear leather gambesons—padded ones. Move, man.’

      ‘Aye, sir.’

      Gudrun reached for Agatha and whipped her out of the doorway as Maurice ran out.

      ‘You, woman,’ Adam said in English, before he recalled her previous mistress, Cecily’s mother, had been Norman. He reverted with relief to that tongue. ‘Come back, please.’

      Agatha on her hip, Gudrun approached warily. ‘Sir Adam?’

      ‘You know where she went?’

      ‘I…I know where she was headed, sir.’

      Some of Adam’s tension eased, and he managed a smile. ‘Good. Where’s your husband?’

      ‘Wilf? Butchering the sheep carcasses behind the cookhouse, sir.’

      ‘Does Wilf ride?’

      ‘Of course, sir.’

      ‘Fetch him. He can be our guide. Herfu, you stay here. Post some guards up on the rise.’

      ‘You’re expecting trouble, sir?’

      Buckling on his sword belt, Adam strode after his squire. ‘When will you learn, lad? Anything is possible.’

      Under the canvas shelter, hugging Philip to her breast, Cecily was battling with despair. Not one of these people would meet her gaze. Undeterred, she cleared her throat, ‘My sister, Emma, has anyone seen her? Judhael said she was here.’

      Outside, someone squelched through the mud. A horse whinnied. And still not a soul would meet Cecily’s eyes. She looked directly at the shepherd. ‘Gunni, Emma is all right?’

      Gunni shrugged, and reluctantly met her gaze. ‘Lady Emma’s well enough. She went to gather dry kindling as we will be lighting a proper fire this evening.’

      Emma? Gathering wood in the rain? But she nodded as though it was her sister’s habit to perform menial tasks. ‘So I shall see her soon?’

      Gunni nodded. ‘Aye, lady, soon.’

      Not ten minutes later, a woman ducked into the shelter. Even though

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