The Virgin's Spy (Tudor Legacy #2)(88)

“Oh, Stephen, there is fault and enough to go around. I have hardly had time to count your sins—my own are too pressing.”

“You have no fault here.”

“I have every fault! I command here, Stephen. My voice gives the orders. Father Byrne was my most loyal supporter for years. He might have argued with me—rarely—but he would not have acted against me. Not in secret.”

“Father Byrne let Dane go because Peter Martin came to him with a plan.” Stephen felt a stirring of unease. From far away, he thought he could see where Ailis was going, and he didn’t want her to go there. He didn’t want her to say it.

“Yes, Peter Martin acted for English interests. Father Byrne only ever acted in my interest. He let Dane go because I told him to.”

“What?”

“He came to me with Martin’s plan. I nearly threw Martin into another cell to rot alongside Dane when I found out—but then I considered that if Dane escaped, I could hunt him down on the road and kill him in the dark. That would be legitimate. So I told Byrne to go along with the plan.”

“Why not tell someone?”

“Because you were both right! But I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to back down. My pride…that was what killed my daughter. I should have known Dane would always win.”

“Not always, Ailis. Dane cannot win the coming fight. Liadan will be avenged.”

Ailis must have read his longing to touch her, for she came forward and unlocked his chains. The same chains from which Dane had been freed ten days ago. But once freed, Stephen was afraid to move. Afraid to do or say the wrong thing.

Ailis moved for him. She had never kissed him like this—desperate, hungry, as though trying to lose herself in him. The only thing to do was respond in kind. Until she began to untie his lacings.

“Ailis, stop. You’re not thinking.”

“For the first time in days! I don’t want to think, Stephen. I want to forget.”

“This isn’t the way.” He felt himself a hypocrite even as he said it. Everything in him was shouting for her. He was shaking so hard it took force of will to hold himself apart. But the last time he’d let his desires dictate, Roisin had died.

“What is the way, Stephen? To lie your way into my bed? To make me believe that, just maybe, there was one Englishman in the world who didn’t deserve an excruciating death? You owe me. This is my payment.”

He would have had to hurt her to stop it—and he didn’t want to do either one. It was hard to tell which of them was more desperate. It broke Stephen’s heart to see how thin she was as he removed skirts and shift, her collarbone and hip bones sharp beneath his hands. He laid her down gently on the pallet (clean, at least), and Ailis pulled him with her. There were tears mixed with gasps, and Stephen was fairly confident that, for a few moments at least, her grief was swamped by her body’s joy.

She slept for an hour after, and Stephen watched her breathe. He imagined sleep had been hard to come by for her and hoped the pain of waking would be tempered rather than worsened by what had passed. He had no idea what would come next. Ailis might easily chain him up once more, or put him on trial. But he had an idea of his own, and when she finally stirred, he put it to her while her defenses were still low.

“You should hold me for ransom,” he said bluntly. “You will need money to take down Dane. Take it from the English.”

“What if your queen is not minded to pay to get you back? She is notoriously tightfisted, and if she’s heard some version from Dane of your betrayal? Elizabeth won’t fund her own soldiers in Ireland—she won’t make the mistake of funding mine.”

“The queen doesn’t come into it. You said it yourself—I’m heir to the wealthiest dukedom in England. My own lands of Somerset could bear a significant ransom, and I do not think my father would balk overly at paying in of himself. Set your terms, Ailis, and let me make what amends are possible.”

“I don’t deny the thought of using English gold to pay troops to destroy Dane is enticing…but it’s not needed. Maisie has anticipated us both. The girl secretly held back half her dowry and invested it through her own business factor. Her investments include a European-trained mercenary force. They are already making their way to Cahir to join us in attacking Blackcastle.”

Stephen stared at her blankly, then was seized by a desire to laugh. All those letters Maisie had written and received? He’d thought them nothing but the everyday outpourings of a young girl far from home. She had completely and thoroughly surprised him, and he thought his sisters would be impatient with him because of it. Hadn’t he lived surrounded by clever women? And here he’d fallen into the simplest of errors—assuming that because she was young and female and not strikingly beautiful, that Maisie must also be useless.

“Well done, Mariota,” he murmured admiringly. “I’m glad of it, Ailis. You are planning to attack, then?”

She stirred and sat up, hair falling over her shoulders to veil her breasts. “We are planning to attack. Maisie has demanded you command the mercenaries and I have agreed.”

“Why?”

“Because I think the story you told me about Dane killing an Irish girl you cared for is more or less true. One can feign desire and friendship and love…but I’ve never found anyone who can effectively feign hatred. You hate him. And I need a commander in the field who hates him for his own sake and not merely for Liadan. It will make you reckless.”