The shrill cry of her hawk high above the group forced Elizabeth to automatically glance up. "Roger," she heard her husband say, "I think you best protect her from the hawk."

Elizabeth looked back at Geoffrey and frowned. "My hawk would not harm me," she said before looking back to the sky. She frowned again as she watched her pet's frantic circles.

"He is very close to bearing you," Geoffrey stated. He kept his voice soft, but the anger was most obvious.

Realization dawned. Elizabeth looked back at her husband, her eyes wide with fright. He was referring to himself, by the name his men had given him.

"Geoffrey, I would explain," Elizabeth stammered.

"Aye, you will," Geoffrey snapped, trying not to grab her by her neck and wring some sense into her. He dared not touch her at all until his temper cooled and he was in control.

Another screech from the sky drew her attention again. She watched her hawk circle again and again and said, almost to herself, "Geoffrey, something is wrong, else he would land."

"Ride!" Geoffrey's command broke the quiet. Like a flash of lightning, he pulled Elizabeth into his saddle and threw the reins of her mare to Roger. He goaded his stallion into motion and Elizabeth held on for dear life as they flew into the forest. She closed her eyes and buried her face against Geoffrey's chest so that the branches could not scrape her, though there was no need, for her husband guarded her well, using his shield to guard her against injury.

When they neared the edge of the lake, Geoffrey called a halt. "James, take two others and ride back toward the road. Keep well hidden and report who passes."

Geoffrey watched three of the soldiers disappear, swallowed by the trees and the dense foliage, and then turned his attention to his wife. She still clung to him and Geoffrey reached into her hair and gave a hard tug, pulling her head back and her face up, just inches from his own. He knew he caused her discomfort from the way she held her lower lip between her teeth, and could well feel her tremble in his arms, yet it was nothing compared to the agony she had just put him through. "When I get you to my home, I will lock you in my room and throw away the key," he vowed in a low voice, and from the look on his face, Elizabeth had no doubt that he would do just that.

"I will not complain," Elizabeth whispered in reply. "Whatever you decide to do to me I will deserve and not make complaint, though I wish you would let me explain," she ended.

Geoffrey was totally unimpressed with her humble acceptance of his threat. He was still too angry. "Why in God's name are you here?" he asked.

"I was on my way to see Rupert," Elizabeth admitted. Her reward for complete honesty was another hard tug on her hair and she almost cried out with the pain.

"It is fortunate for you that I was able to stop you, then," Geoffrey said in a harsh voice. He eased up on his hold when he saw the tears in her eyes but his fury knew no limits.

"But I was on my way home," Elizabeth said.

"You saw Rupert?" His voice sounded incredulous and he found himself pulling on her hair again.

"Nay," Elizabeth replied. "Geoffrey, you hurt me! Loose me and I will explain," she pleaded.

Geoffrey obeyed her request but promptly captured her shoulders in a tight grip. "I am waiting," he said. His face was a mask, but Elizabeth could still feel the anger in him.

"It is true, I was on my way to see Rupert, but I could not do it. I could not go to him. It would have been disloyal to you. And so I turned around and was headed home when you chanced upon me."

"Disobedient," Geoffrey corrected, "not disloyal." He let go of her shoulders and realized his hands were shaking. She would have ridden into hell had she ventured into Rupert's web, Geoffrey knew. And he would thank God each and every day for the rest of his life that she had not.

"No, Geoffrey, I was disloyal as well." Elizabeth 's confession sounded like a tortured whisper.

"God give me patience with you," Geoffrey muttered. "Always you contradict me." He shook his head and waited for her response.

"I was not going to Rupert just to offer comfort in his time of need. No, my motives were selfish and sinful, Geoffrey. I grew impatient waiting for you to do something and decided that Rupert would champion my cause. I thought to tell him about Belwain, and in his grief he would not be so concerned about the law… and he would go to Belwain and make him confess."

Tears began to stream down her face and Elizabeth wiped them away with an impatient hand. She could tell from the look on her husband's face that he was furious with her confession. He acted like he had just received a blow to his midsection, and Elizabeth cried all the more, for she was the cause of his anger, his pain. "I am guilty of disobedience and disloyalty and lack of patience. I admit to each sin, and will cut my hair and wear a peasant's garb for a year if that be my penance. But, Geoffrey, last evening I knew I could not go through with my plan. I had given you my trust. By going to Rupert I would have been telling you that I had no faith in you. Geoffrey, I was so confused. I had made the vow to avenge my family's deaths… and then I made the vows to you… and I did not know which came first. Oh, Geoffrey, I cannot be vengeful any longer. Belwain's death will not bring my papa back to me. This constant thought of revenge truly goes against my nature." She wiped her cheeks with the edge of her cloak and wished her husband would say something. Oh, how she longed to hear him yell at her. Anything, to show her she had not destroyed any affection he might have felt for her. "If you decide never to look for proof of my uncle's treachery, then so be it."

It took Geoffrey a long while to calm down. He almost shuddered when he realized how close he had come to losing her. The danger! And she had no idea, none at all. That was probably his fault, he admitted. Aye, he too was to blame. If he had not been so stubborn, so bent on teaching her her place, none of this would have come to pass. Yet she had just admitted that she was on her way to another to champion her cause. How dare she? his mind demanded, when she had given her trust into his care. Aye, it was disloyalty, in thought and in action. He would have to address this problem, but not until he had time to think. It was unwise to make snap judgments and decisions, for they could well prove unchangeable. He needed time… time and distance away from his wife, to sort this confusion out.

" Elizabeth, it was Rupert behind the whole of it." She did not understand what he was saying. Not at first. She shook her head, trying to deny what she just heard. No, he was Margaret's husband! He would not, could not…

"He hides until the wound from the knife heals," Geoffrey said, watching the play of emotions crossing his wife's face.

Elizabeth was too stunned to say anything. The enormity of the situation was too much to consider.

Geoffrey dismounted and lifted her to the ground. "It is true. You would have ridden into hell and not known it until it was too late."

"How did you find out?" Elizabeth finally managed to ask.

"From the moment you told me the story, I was suspicious of Rupert. The fact that he suddenly became too ill to accompany his wife to Montwright, that planted the seed of doubt in my mind. Then, when Elslow arrived, he told me that Rupert was one of the leaders of the rebels against William, though Rupert does not know that Elslow could name him traitor. The final proof came from the messenger, the first messenger. One of Rupert's ill-treated servants let slip the news that Rupert's injury was slow to heal. That bit of information, added to the fact that Rupert refused to answer my call… Aye, Elizabeth, he is the one behind the whole of it. I would stake my life on it."