Read Online Heaven's Fire by Patricia Ryan - Free Book Online Page A

“I wouldn’t know, sir. Someone traveling through, perhaps? Or perhaps Constance herself.” Desperate to change the subject, he asked, “What made you suspect that this grave was empty?”
    “You remember. You were with me when I saw her in Bagley Wood, going into that church. You told me it wasn’t her.”
    “She had her head covered, and we saw her from such a distance. And when we got there, she was gone.”
    “Sneaked out the back,” he growled. “Saw us and slipped away.”
    “And she... she was supposed to be—”
    “She was supposed to be dead !” He crushed the straw in his fists, then flung it aside. “She’s a crafty wench. But I’m craftier.”
    Looking up from the grave, he met Hugh’s gaze, his eyes shining like black beetles in the moonlight. “Get Pigot.”
    “Pigot! Sir Roger, no...
    “ Get him! ” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. “Pigot will find her. Doesn’t matter how far away she’s gotten. Scotland, Wales... He always finds them. He’ll bring her back, and then I’ll teach her a thing or two. I’ll make her suffer for humiliating me.”
    “Sir Roger—”
    “Get Pigot! Promise him double his usual fee. I’ll sell her to a brothel after I’m done with her, and make it back that way.” He held his hands toward Hugh. “Help me out.” Together, the three men succeeded in hauling the obese knight from the hole.
    “Sir Roger,” Hugh began, “if I may... I don’t think it’s such a wise idea, sending Pigot after Constance. That is, I don’t think any brothel will want her after... after he’s done with her.”
    “Aye, he likes those knives of his.” Sir Roger lifted Detinée and made kissing noises at her, whereupon she bared her teeth and lunged for his bulbous nose. He chuckled indulgently and scratched her behind her ears. “I’ll order him not to ruin her face.”
    “He’s a madman,” Hugh objected. “You can tell him whatever you want, but he can’t be controlled. Remember Hildreth? Didn’t you tell him to spare her face when he found her? Yet look what he did to her! Poor girl drowned herself in the river rather than—”
    “ Enough! ” Sir Roger bellowed. The little dog flinched and let out an indignant yelp. “I’ve told you to fetch Pigot, and by God that’s what you’ll do! You’ll have him here by tomorrow afternoon or I’ll see your neck in a noose. And try to figure out where Constance might have gone. Your wife was a friend of hers, wasn’t she?”
    “My wife?”
    “Ella. She might know something about all this. She was probably the last one to see the bitch before she ran away. Send her to me. I want to question her.”
    “Nay! I... I’ll talk to her.”
    “And you’ll send for Pigot?”
    Hugh’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll send for Pigot. But for God’s sake, don’t call him that to his face this time. You know how it enrages him. Call him by his real name.”
    Sir Roger waved a plump hand in dismissal. “I’ll call him what I damn well please! ‘Twill remind him who’s in charge.”
    Hugh considered arguing the point, but decided against it. If Sir Roger chose to make a personal enemy of this lunatic, so be it.
    Sir Roger waved the two villeins over to the grave. They shambled toward him slowly, Wiley with an expression of disgust, Frick with one of wariness. “Fill this in so it looks exactly as it did.” To Hugh, he said, “Make sure they do a proper job of it. Detinée and I are going to bed.”
    *   *   *
    Late the next afternoon, Hugh, Sir Roger, Frick, Wiley, and Pigot stood hidden behind a copse of trees across the river from the churchyard, their eyes trained on a tall, fair-haired man standing beside the filled-in grave. He stood perfectly still, his expression solemn. Hugh, knowing the grave contained, not Constance, but a sackful of straw, felt a fair measure of unease watching this stranger mourn a woman who was, in fact, still alive somewhere.
    “Anyone know who that is?” asked Sir