Elizabeth Elliott by Betrothed Read Free Book Online

them, for they surely held her responsible for their baron’s plight. If she helped Guy escape as well, he might provide the escort she needed to London. It would be much more difficult to free them both, yet without him she would never reach Dante. She could do nothing until nightfall, but in the meantime she decided to learn what she could of her uncle’s plot.
    She turned sideways in the passage and prayed. This would not be a pleasant place to get stuck. She would not even think about the possibility of rats.
    The walls could become no tighter when the passage opened into a small, square chamber, lit by small eye-level cracks on three sides. Even here she could smell the strong pomander that Uncle Laurence used to scent his clothing, a cloying mixture of ground cloves and balsam that he favored for reasons known only to himself. The sound of his voice echoed in the chamber, and she leaned toward one opening, then looked into the solar.
    Her uncle stood near the fireplace with one arm propped against the mantel. His blond hair had turned a yellowed shade of white with age, but his pale blue eyes still reflected an alert, devious mind. He wore a long burgundy and gold tunic, the colors of Lonsdale, and he rested a mug atop the buckle of his sword belt.
    Bishop Germaine sat in a high-backed chair before the fireplace. She could see little more of him than the top of his gleaming bald head, but she could hear his words clearly enough. “What have you involved me in, Laurence? I would stake my life that what you told me this morning is not the whole of it.”
    “Do not fret,” said Lonsdale. “I will pay you well for your part in this.”
    “Aye, that you will,” he agreed, “but I will know all of my part, not some hurried explanation when I am half awake and roused at dawn. And you may cease your insistence that Montague seduced the girl. We both know that is not the truth.”
    “We will both be wealthy men,” Lonsdale insisted. “With the Church’s decree that Montague marry my niece, he will know he has no choice in the matter. The dower will be paid, and the marriage will take place.”
    “And a war will soon follow,” added the bishop. “You cannot think that Montague will not exact retribution for this deception. What possessed you to concoct this hoax?”
    Lonsdale raked one hand through his hair, his tone impatient. “He knows something is amiss with Halford Hall. I showed him the articles at the feast yesterday, but he said he wanted more time to consider the matter. If he did not suspect some trickery, he would have signed the articles then and there. I will lose everything if he discovers Halford is not mine to sell.”
    “What are you talking about?” the bishop asked. “Halford is not entailed to your estates. You are free to dispose of the property as you wish.”
    “Nay, you are wrong. My father had the old Baron Montague sign Halford over to my sister, Catherine. He wanted totie one of her children to English soil, and Catherine bequeathed the keep to her daughter. Halford Hall is not mine to sell. I hold it only in wardship for that unnatural daughter Catherine bred.” He paused to take a long drink from his goblet, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “The articles I showed Montague are a forgery. As my overlord, the king holds the true articles to Halford. Those at Lonsdale who knew the truth of the matter are dead, and even if the king learned of Halford’s sale I doubt he would recall its true ownership. It is no great estate, of importance to no one but Guy of Montague. Even my niece is ignorant of her rights to the property.”
    Claudia braced her hands against the walls of the chamber. All the miserable years at Lonsdale swam before her eyes, the slights and insults, the jibes that she was nothing but a destitute, unwelcome relative, a burden who must work long hours to earn her keep or go hungry. She was an heiress! And each year she labored, Uncle Laurence