Chapter Twenty-one

Simon made straight for the kitchen. If Ariel had been summoned to assist a laboring woman, the servants would know about it. When Doris caught sight of him, she turned and fled toward the scullery. Simon's lips thinned.

"Can I 'elp you, m'lord? Is there something you need abovestairs?" Timson asked anxiously.

"Only my wife. Do you happen to know where I might find her?"

Timson stroked his chin. "Can't say as I do, m'lord."

"She's not been summoned to the village, then?"

For a moment Timson looked puzzled, then speculation and calculation flashed across his eyes and Simon guessed the man was trying to decide how Lady Ariel would want him to respond to a situation he knew nothing about.

"I 'aven't been in the kitchen much this evenin', m'lord," Timson said slowly. "But I could ask around."

"Don't bother. I'm sure I'll get the same answer from everyone." Simon limped to the kitchen door. It seemed the household automatically closed ranks around their lady whether or not they knew what was going on.

He felt his way down the kitchen path, using his stick as if he were a blind man. The fog was all but impenetrable and the silence in the still air was eerie, as if all living things had been choked by the wet, frigid, suffocating blanket. The stableyard was deserted, not even the faintest glimmer of a lantern showing through the gray-whiteness.

Simon leaned on his cane in the middle of the yard and listened intently. Then he heard something. A faint bark, instantly silenced. It was hard in the disorienting fog to get a sense of the direction. He waited, immobile, concentrating all his faculties as he had so often done in the past when patrolling a picket line, listening for the faint crack of a twig, rustle of a leaf, that would indicate the approach of a stranger.

Then it seemed that he could hear voices, faint whispering tendrils coming to him through the fog. He raised his head and sniffed like an animal scenting the wind. It was all too easy for the overstretched mind to play tricks in these conditions. All too easy to fabricate the sound one wanted to hear. But they were there. Those disembodied voices. And they were coming from the direction of the river.

He waited until he had oriented himself, then set off, his cane tapping the cobbles ahead of him as he felt his way toward the path that led from the stableyard down to the river. On the path his boots crunched on ice, went through to the iron-hard mud beneath. The ice was already broken up, shards of it cracking beneath his heels. Something resembling a troop of cavalry had trampled down this path very recently.

He increased his speed, knowing it was risky when he was blind as well as lame on the uneven and treacherous track, but the voices were sounding more solid now, although he couldn't make them out. Then something barreled out of the darkness and flung itself at him.

He swore as his foot slipped. He flung out his hands and found a tree trunk right beside him. He clung to it, recovering his balance, as one of the wolfhounds slobbered ecstatically on his chest. The second materialized, a paler gray streak against the thick gray darkness.

"Down!" he commanded in a harsh whisper that brought them instantly to heel. Their eyes glowing yellow, they sat grinning up at him, clearly delighted to welcome him to whatever game was in progress.

Where the hounds were, there he would find Ariel.

In confirmation, Ariel's voice, muffled in fog, drifted from the river, "Romulus… Remus… where the devil are you?"

"Come, Mama's calling," Simon murmured, pushing himself away from the tree. "Let's go and surprise her, shall we?"

The fog seemed, if possible, even thicker by the river, but his eyes were now accustomed and he could make out shapes as he emerged from the path onto the riverbank, the dogs bounding ahead of him, unhindered by the stygian gloom.

Simon stared in astonishment. Several torches now offered a diffused light, their flames a snakelike flicker tonguing the fog. Ariel's entire Arabian stud was gathered on the banks of the river where three flat barges were moored. As he watched, the men who were moving among the animals began to lead them onto the barges.

Ariel's fluid shape seemed to be everywhere, adjusting halters, calming, stroking. There was no sound, no jingling of harness, no clatter of hoof, as the haltered animals were led on board. They must have muffled the hooves with sacking, Simon thought incredulously.

How could Ariel have had this monumental transport in her head and never given him so much as an inkling? All day she'd been making these preparations, and not once had he guessed. But how could he guess, when he hadn't the faintest idea why she would be doing this? The stables at Hawkesmoor would be ready for her stud in a matter of weeks. So where the hell was she taking them? And why?

But he wasn't going to find any answers standing on the sidelines. He moved forward away from the trees and onto the flat bank.

The dogs raced forward, barking excitedly, and Ariel hissed at them. "Quiet!"

"Should 'ave left 'em in the tack room." It was Edgar's voice and it was Edgar who saw Simon first. "M'lord?" His tone was expressionless but it brought Ariel swinging around on her heel.

"Simon!"

"The very same," he agreed, stepping toward her. "And would you mind telling me just what in the name of grace is going on here?"

Ariel dropped the halter she was holding. She walked slowly over to him. What could she say? How could she possibly explain what he was seeing?

Her eyes in the greenish yellow light were glittering with dismay. "You aren't supposed to be here." The stupid words spoke themselves even as she tried desperately to think of a satisfactory explanation.

"I rather got that impression myself," he observed with an amiability that didn't deceive her. "What's going on?"

"I don't have time to explain here. Please go back to the castle." She tried to keep her tone moderate, but he heard her desperate urgency.

"That's not good enough. I want to know now." His voice was clipped.

Ariel in her mind's eye saw Ranulf plunging through the trees to discover the scene at the river while she bandied words with her husband.

She grabbed his sleeve, trying to drag him around to the trees again. "For God's sake, Simon. Go back. Can't you see that this has nothing to do with you? Can't you see you're in the way? I have to go back and help before-"

He moved a hand to her wrist, his fingers closing over the fragile bones as she tugged to free herself. "You are going nowhere. Now, tell me what you're doing here."

Ariel cast an almost wild look over her shoulder. The loading seemed to have stopped and everyone was looking at the two locked shadows. She began to speak with rapid desperation. "I have to move the horses out before Ranulf steals any more of them. Can't you understand?"

Simon shook his head. "Not yet. Why would Ranulf steal them?"

"Because they're worth money, you dolt!" She clapped her hand to her mouth as his eyes blazed. She stepped back involuntarily under a thrill of fear, but her wrist remained fast. "Please, I'm sorry." Wretchedly she apologized. "But this isn't the time to explain anything, Simon."

"Nevertheless, you will continue." The edge to his voice would have cut steel. "And I suggest that you choose your words from now on with the greatest care. If you wanted to move the stud away from Ravenspeare, then why aren't they going to Hawkesmoor?"

Ariel drew a deep breath. "It's not as simple as that. I… I… oh, I can't explain."

"Can't you?" His voice was now so cold and flat, she shriveled beneath it like a new growth under the onslaught of a spring frost. All the power of her purpose seemed to leak away. "Can't you, Ariel?"

He moved his free hand to her chin, catching it between finger and thumb, forcing her to look up and meet a pitiless gaze. The silver knob of the cane he continued to hold was cold against her jaw. Each word was now an icy caress. "But never mind, because I begin to understand. Oh, yes, I am afraid that I finally begin to understand."

He kept hold of her wrist, holding her alongside him as he limped to where Edgar was still standing stolidly with the horses.

"Return the horses to their stables and-"

"No!" Ariel cried. "No, you can't do that."

"Oh yes I can. Or have you forgotten the nature of the marriage contract, madam wife?" The words punched at her. "But then, I doubt you read the fine print, since it was a contract you never intended to honor." He turned back to Edgar. "Return them immediately. Put a double guard on them overnight, and keep the dogs roaming free."

Edgar didn't move. Only his eyes flickered from the earl's set face to Ariel's white countenance. Men and horses stood quiet in the wreathing fog, the tension apparent even to those who couldn't hear what was being said. One of the hounds gave vent to a questioning bark that was more of a tentative yap.

"Do not oblige me to repeat myself, man." Simon's voice was that same icy caress, and it sent shivers up Ariel's spine.

"Do as his lordship says, Edgar," she said, defeated. Edgar must not suffer for his loyalty to her.

Edgar reached for the dogs' collars and held them firmly. He turned to the men with the horses behind him. "Take 'em back."

Simon gave a short satisfied nod and turned away as if he had no more interest in the scene. He brought his cane up, the knob pressing firmly into the small of Ariel's back. "Let us return to the house. I'd like to hear your explanations, even if I can guess them myself, in more comfortable surroundings."

Ariel hung back, looking over her shoulder at the ruin of her great escape. The knob of the cane pressed more firmly.

She bit her lip, tears of angry frustration filling her eyes. But she moved forward, stumbling over a stone, kicking it aside with a savage execration under her breath.

She had lost everything. Without her stud under her own control, she had no income to ensure her own future.

His anger felt like a knife edge against her skin. It hadn't taken him more than a heartbeat to guess the truth-that she had never had any intention of trying to make their marriage work.

And through her desperation, anger blazed that he'd dictated to her, ridden roughshod over her actions and her wishes, just as her brothers had always done. How right she had been not to have trusted him. But now what difference did it make?

Involuntarily she increased her pace but he was still holding her wrist and jerked her back beside him so that she was forced to go at the speed he dictated.

"Damn you, Hawkesmoor!" She stopped dead on the path so that he almost stumbled. Anger consumed her. "You've wrecked my life, ruined everything I've worked for, and I will not be brought to heel like a dog on a leash."

"Then walk properly instead of all this stopping and starting."

Ariel compressed her lips but said nothing more as they continued toward the side door of the castle.

The party in the green parlor had broken up soon after Simon's departure. Helene had already dismissed her maid when she heard what she'd been waiting for-Simon's unmistakable footsteps in the passage outside. Consumed with curiosity, she opened her door a crack. Simon and Ariel were coming down the corridor toward her. Simon's face was drawn and haggard, but his eyes were ablaze with blue fire. He held Ariel's wrist as he limped along. Ariel's face was pale and set, a sheen of tears in her eyes. She looked both wildly angry and bitterly crushed.

Helene stepped back as they reached Ariel's bedchamber opposite. Ariel opened the door and as she stepped in she flung her wrist free of Simon's hold almost as if by so doing she could fling him bodily away from her. It looked to Helene as if she was about to slam the door in his face, but Simon moved behind her with surprising dexterity and the door closed on them both with a decisive click

Helene despised herself but couldn't help herself. She glanced along the deserted passage, then slipped out and behind the tapestry that hung against the cold stone wall beside Ariel's door. She didn't know whether she'd be able to hear anything through the crack around the door hinges, but her curiosity was a ravening beast. She had come here to help Simon in his marriage, and if that marriage was in trouble, and it certainly looked as if it was, then she needed to know. She pressed her ear against the sliver of a gap.

"So, I've ruined your life… wrecked everything… I think you said." Simon leaned against the windowsill. He was too worked up to sit down, but after his difficult and frigid walk, his leg was aching like the devil and couldn't take his full weight any longer.

Ariel threw off her cloak. "You had no right to do that!" She had lost all desire to be conciliatory. Of course, he wouldn't understand, whatever words she used. Anyone who could ride roughshod over her the way he had just done couldn't be trusted to understand anything. "Those are my horses. They're not yours. They don't belong to you. You have no rights over them."

"My dear girl," he interrupted with a raised hand. "According to the laws of marriage, what belongs to you belongs also to me."

"So you are going to claim my horses." she said bitterly.

"No, of course I'm not. I have no interest in your damned horses," he snapped, realizing that this issue would get them seriously off track. "I am, however, interested in what's been going on in that devious little head of yours since the moment you knelt at the altar. If you wanted to move your stud, why the hell didn't you discuss it with me first? You knew perfectly well I was prepared to accommodate them at Hawkesmoor Manor."

Ariel was suddenly blinded with tears. How could she begin to explain the miserable tangle in this atmosphere? He wasn't prepared to listen, let alone understand. It wasn't even worth the effort. She turned aside, with an inarticulate gesture of frustration that Simon interpreted as curt dismissal.

His fingers curled into his palms as he fought his anger. He spoke slowly and unemphatically. "Very well. If you won't explain to me, then let me tell you what I think has been going on."

Ariel remained with her back to him, and he said with the same lack of emphasis, "Look at me, Ariel."

As she turned to face him, dashing a hand across her eyes, everything fell into place. Her many evasions when he'd questioned her about her plans for her horses, her tense exchanges with Ranulf about his visits to the stables, the impressively scientific expertise of her breeding program, and most importantly the suspicion he'd had all along that Ariel had been holding herself back from this marriage.

All this time he had thought the betrayal would come from her brothers, when instead it had been his wife who'd been plotting the ultimate betrayal.

"Just when, my dear wife, did you intend to join your horses? Or were you going to depart with them tonight? Didn't you even bother to leave me a note?" He glanced around the room with heavy sarcasm. "But perhaps I don't even deserve an explanation for my wife's desertion."

Ariel stared at a knot in the paneling over his head, trying to pretend she was somewhere else. It was a technique she had perfected over the years when things became too ugly, but like so many others, it didn't seem to work with the Hawkesmoor.

After a pause, Simon continued in the same tone, "At a rough guess, I would estimate that stud of yours in its present composition is worth maybe twenty thousand guineas, depending, of course, on the quality of the stallion. But I'm sure he's a prime beast. You wouldn't have truck with anything less than prime, would you, my dear?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Still silent? I must be on the right track then. I wonder where you were intending to set up your stud. I assume you have contacts already in the racing world…"

Recognition flashed in her eyes and he said, "Ah, yes, I can see that I got that one right."

He stopped suddenly, running a hand through his hair. "Dear God, Ariel. Just what did you have in mind? A divorce? An annulment?"

"It doesn't matter now," she said tonelessly.

"Doesn't matter! It doesn't matter that this marriage was a sham from the very beginning? Of course," he added acidly, "I was forgetting that you never intended it to be consummated! I can't think why you didn't help your brothers do away with me."

Ariel flushed crimson. "That's not just. I only wanted to be free to live the way I choose."

"None of us has that freedom, girl," he exclaimed harshly.

"I didn't mean it quite like that… Oh, what's the use." She dashed the tears from her eyes again. "For once in my life, I wanted to be financially independent."

He frowned. "As I recall, the marriage settlements allow for very generous financial provision for your needs."

"But I'd still be accountable to you!" she fired at him with renewed energy. "I'd be dependent on a generosity that my brother compelled from you. And you know damn well why he did that, Hawkesmoor. It sure as hell wasn't for my sake! It was to score a victory over you. Anyway, that money doesn't belong to me, does it? It's not produced by my own labor and skill. It's charity. Pure sweet charity!"

"Well, that's about as novel an interpretation of marriage settlements as I've heard." Simon pushed himself away from his window-seat perch. "I can't continue with this tonight. I'm too angry to think clearly." He began to unbutton his coat. "Get undressed and go to bed, Ariel."

"I can't sleep."

"Then stay awake if you must. Do I have to lock the door?"

Ariel shrugged. "What difference does it make? I'm a prisoner in this marriage whether you make it obvious or not."

He threw off the rest of his clothes and climbed into bed. He propped the pillows behind his head and regarded her set face and glittering eyes thoughtfully.

"If you're going to be tempted to leave this room before morning, Ariel, I suggest you lock the door and bring me the key. I can't answer for the consequences if you assert your independence again this evening."

Ariel stalked to the door, turned the key, and hurled it onto the bed beside him. Then she slumped in the rocker beside the fire.

Simon pushed the key beneath his pillows and lay back, every nerve stretched toward the hunched figure in the dim firelight. He was more hurt than he could have believed possible. He had thought she was beginning to open up to him, to offer him more of herself than her body. He thought he'd meant something to her. But all along she had been intending to leave him. Nothing he had said or done in the days since their marriage had penetrated the thicket she had planted around herself.

He could understand how she might long to escape her brothers' tyranny. But it had never occurred to him that Ariel might see him too as a tyrant and view their marriage as a new prison. A prison she was determined to escape at whatever cost.

Helene crept away from the door. She had never heard Simon speak with such bitterness. But because she knew him, she had heard the hurt that fueled the corrosive anger. And she wanted to slap the silly chit of a girl who would reject what Simon was offering for something as sterile as financial independence.

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