The Knight and the Dove

by Lori Wick

  “Now hand her to me,” Roland ordered, and Megan felt the jostle of arms as she was settled across his saddle. The horse had no more moved when Megan felt a hot rush that made her heart sink with dread. The need to relieve herself was almost unbearable, but it was not the same. Megan knew she was losing her baby.

  “Oh, Father, please, no,” Megan whispered tearfully.

  Roland naturally misunderstood her. “If you do as you’re told, you have nothing to fear. Just sit quiet now; we’ll be there soon.”

  Megan tried to stem her tears, but they seeped out anyway. It was all her fault. She had gone to the village and caused Bracken’s anger, which had put her in the meadow. It was too late for regrets, but Megan felt them nonetheless.

  “It’s not time yet,” Roland tried to reason with her.

  “I want her dead, do you hear me, Roland! Dead! If you won’t do it, I’ll see to it myself!”

  Megan listened with dread to the sound of her sister’s voice. It never once occurred to her that Marigold was behind all of this, but when she could make her mind concentrate, it made perfect sense.

  How foolish she had been. She had heard Roland’s men talking. All the intrigue surrounding Bracken and Roland was really over her. Had Bracken known this? Is that why he’d been so furious? Megan pushed regret aside. She had apologized to Bracken, but he had rejected her. She had tried to bridge the gap between them, but he had been unwilling. At some point she had to stop thrashing herself for the sins of the past.

  It looks as if they plan my death. Perhaps this is what it’s going to take, she prayed in her heart. Bracken will surely be in pain over my loss, and perhaps this will bring him to You, Father God.

  Megan was warmed by the thought. It helped, since she felt with a certainty that her baby was gone. It also helped to lay still. In the six days she’d been in this rundown castle, there had been much blood and no one to help her in any way.

  Marigold and Roland’s voices were fading now. Megan wasn’t certain if they were moving away from her door or if she was falling back to sleep. They had fed her and given her water, but she was still so weak. Megan was still wondering why that would be when she drifted off once again.

  “A week, Lyndon. My wife has been gone a week, and I am no closer to finding her.”

  This was very true. With Lyndon always at his side, Bracken had followed the trail of Megan’s abductor, but it had led nowhere. From there they had searched and questioned everyone within miles. There were still no leads. Now the two men stood in the war room. Lyndon, nearly as torn up over Megan’s loss as Bracken, said, “We will find her, Bracken. I know this. I feel it.”

  The duke turned tortured eyes to his friend. “What have they done to her?”

  “Don’t think about it, Bracken; it will distract you. Just concentrate on finding a way.”

  Bracken nodded. They were words he needed to hear. If he thought overly long on Megan or the baby, panic would set in and then he would be of no use to anyone. In order to keep the anxiety at bay, Bracken found himself trying to pray.

  I will make amends, God, if You will but spare Megan. I have wronged her, and I will make repairs if You will but give her back to me. The thoughts had no more formed when Kendrick came to the door.

  “Lord Vincent has arrived.” The loyal knight was breathless with excitement. “He brings word.”

  “You should have kidnapped a maid as well, Roland,” Marigold said bitingly. “Megan looks worse than ever.”

  Roland looked at the madness in Marigold’s eyes and then at her pathetic sister and asked himself how love could drive a man to such an act. The stories Marigold had told him concerning her evil sister, Megan, had made him hate the girl, but then he watched the small redhead fall from her horse twice and never utter a sound. To protect his investment, he had taken her atop his horse, but then he had told her not to cry and she had quieted swiftly.

  Not until they arrived at the castle did he realize how tightly her hands had been tied. He released her and then watched as she shook all over with pain when the blood rushed back to her fingertips. Still, she did not utter a word. And then, when he’d finally removed her blindfold, she’d blinked, focused on him, and spoken only four words.

  “Please, let me go.”

  Roland had actually considered it. He was a man who had little care for his own life, so Bracken’s wrath did not disturb him, but he knew if this woman was his own and someone had taken her, he would be crazy with grief.

  He made himself leave the room before he could relent. At the time Marigold had not yet joined him, but he knew that to let Megan go would send Marigold into a frenzy. After she arrived, Roland wondered if it really would have mattered. She was more agitated than ever.

  It wasn’t enough to have Megan kidnapped with a plan to ransom her, Marigold had wanted the younger girl humiliated. She had demanded that Megan be paraded naked through the castle before all his men. Roland’s stomach rolled when he thought of how close he’d come to agreeing.

  He’d gone to Megan’s chamber, and holding a sword at her chest, told her to rise and undress. In order to go through with it, he had forced himself to ignore her white face and violent trembling, but when he’d seen the dark spotting on her shift, he relented, telling her to dress again. Turning, he swiftly exited the room, thinking as he did that he would rather face Marigold than force this on Megan.

  He didn’t see Marigold for more than an hour, but he needn’t have worried. By the time he came face-to-face with her, she had completely forgotten her orders.

  Now it was the following evening. After bringing Megan into the great hall for dinner, Roland thought she looked paler than ever. Something deep inside of him told him he was not seeing a woman in her monthly flow, but something much more significant. He had to remove Marigold from the room and find out.

  “Why aren’t you eating?” Marigold asked Megan, her voice now as sweet as a child’s.

  “I’m not very hungry,” Megan told her sister kindly and Roland knew then that Megan recognized her sister’s madness.

  “Why not?” The older woman frowned, and her voice changed, causing Megan to pick up her fork. Roland watched her hand shake.

  “Well, I guess I’ll try a little.”

  Marigold smiled as if all was well in the world and then began telling Megan and Roland about the different men who had loved her.

  “Of course, Bracken does too, Meg. I’m sure it will take some time to get used to the idea, but then it really doesn’t matter since you’ll be dead.” Her voice was as sweet as that of a young girl in love for the first time.

  The sound of it chilled Megan to the bone. She watched as Marigold went on eating, but she felt so ill that she had to lay her fork down. She felt Roland’s eyes on her and glanced at him before swiftly reaching for the utensil to spear a small carrot slice. Roland hated the fear he saw in her face but knew he deserved it. It was impossible for her to know that he himself had never killed anyone in his life.

  “I want something sweet,” Marigold suddenly demanded like a spoiled tyke.

  “Very well,” Roland said smoothly, now seeing a way. “Let me return Megan to her room, and you and I shall retire to the fire with tea and dessert.”

  “Why are you taking her up?” Marigold’s harsh voice was back. “You have men for that.”

  “I wish to see to it myself. After all our hard work I do not want our prisoner to escape.”

  Marigold’s laugh was hard. “She’s not bright enough for that, but suit yourself. I shall be waiting.”

  Roland took Megan’s arm and led her from the table. He had no reason to be harsh with her, but he rushed her along until they were out of the great hall. He didn’t speak until they were back at Megan’s room. Roland opened the door and allowed her to precede him. Megan, thinking he would shut her in and leave, turned in fear when he stepped in behind her.

  “Are you with child?”

  Megan was so stunned by the question that she
did not at first respond.

  “I must get below. Answer me at once. Are you with child?”

  Megan turned her face away and spoke just above a whisper. “There is no need to concern yourself. What’s done is done.”

  Had Megan been looking, she would have seen the way Roland’s hands balled into fists of anger and regret. He didn’t speak but stood still a moment before turning to join Marigold below.

  Thirty-Seven

  “HOW DID YOU LEARN OF THIS PLACE?” Bracken whispered to Vincent as they stood outside the rundown keep that sat halfway between Stone Lake and Hawkings Crest. Vincent had come to Hawkings Crest with news that he knew of Megan’s whereabouts. It was late at night, but they had ridden out so swiftly that the men had not even had time to speak.

  “Marigold was reported seen here.”

  Panic clawed at Bracken’s throat as he grasped the older man’s arm with incredible strength.

  “Marigold is behind this?”

  “I fear so.” Vincent winced at the younger man’s hold, but understood. “For a time she covered herself well, and her mother and I relaxed, but the lies about France have now come to my attention. We will recover Megan,” Vincent added and watched as a look of steel entered Bracken’s eyes.

  Within moments they had the castle surrounded and all moved in for an attack. The castle defense was feeble at best, as Roland had not done a good job of arming the keep. He had less than a dozen guards, and they seemed totally unprepared for an attack. Few lives were lost as Bracken’s men broke through the door. In less than 20 minutes Bracken stood in the great hall, his sword and shield making him appear larger than ever.

  He didn’t move a muscle when he saw Roland and Marigold by the hearth. It looked as if they’d both been up all night. They stood at the same time, and still Bracken did not move, not even when that lying wench ran across the room and threw herself at Bracken’s chest.

  “Oh, Bracken!” she cried dramatically. “You’ve come for us. Roland kidnapped us both and has already forced himself on Megan. It was my turn tonight, but you have spared me.”

  Bracken did not even look at her. His eyes remained on Roland, who seemed amazingly calm. Bracken knew by just studying the man that Marigold’s words were all lies. Roland had not touched Megan, and Marigold was up to her usual deceitful tricks. Bracken moved her aside with one arm. Marigold put on a lovely display of hurt and rejection.

  “Bracken?” Her voice was pained. Then her father entered behind him.

  “Father!” Marigold screamed in outrage and began to back away.

  “Halt,” Vincent shouted as he came toward her, but Marigold turned and ran. The older man pursued his daughter, but Bracken turned back to Roland.

  “Where is she?”

  Lyndon and Kendrick had flanked and grabbed Roland, but he still managed to motion with his head to the upstairs.

  “If she has been harmed, you’ll die.”

  Thinking of the lost child, Roland wanted to say, “Kill me now,” but refrained.

  Bracken swung away, and in minutes stood outside Megan’s door. He smashed the lock and moved slowly inside. The room was dim with only one torch burning. Bracken found Megan sitting on the side of the bed. She looked pale but unharmed, and Bracken was so relieved that for a moment he could not move. Even when she smiled and spoke, he could not propel his feet forward.

  “You came,” she said softly, her voice so full of wonder that Bracken’s joy deserted him.

  “You doubted?” he frowned.

  Megan gestured helplessly with her hands. “You were so angry, Bracken, and although I knew they planned to ransom me, I wasn’t certain if you would—”

  “Of course I came,” Bracken cut her off, feeling very hurt and wanting to lash out in return. “You carry my son.”

  The change in Megan was frightening. The light left her eyes so rapidly that Bracken blinked. He watched as she turned her face to the wall.

  “Then you have wasted your time.” Her voice was flat, and Bracken felt a fear so great that it robbed him of breath. “I fell from my horse. There has been much blood.”

  Bracken discarded his sword and shield to cover the distance between them in only a few strides. He went down on one knee before Megan, and although still feeling breathless, spoke earnestly. “I did not mean that, Megan. It’s you I’ve come for. I am sorry about the babe, but truly, it’s you I want.”

  Megan turned dull eyes to his, her voice utterly emotionless. “It’s all my fault. I have lost our child. The blame surely lies at my door.”

  “No, Megan,” Bracken began and touched her for the first time. Her skin was so hot and dry that alarm slammed through him all over again. He could feel his emotions spinning out of control and shook himself in order to keep his head. He could tell her the way he had yearned for her every moment she was gone; indeed, he’d nearly been out of his head. But Megan was ill, and right now she needed his cool logic.

  “Come, Megan, we’re going home now.”

  Megan didn’t even look at him as he rose and lifted her, nor did she speak. Her lack of response concerned him more than anything. What had she been through in the last week?

  By the time they gained the great hall, Vincent had Roland bound. He was still being held, but when Bracken stopped with Megan in his arms, he was allowed to approach. Roland stared at the duchess, and Megan sighed gently.

  “I am sorry for the loss of your child.”

  “You do not hate me, Roland; I know this to be true. Why then, why have you done this terrible thing?”

  Roland turned his face away in shame. “There are times when love drives a man to foolishness. I am just such a fool.”

  “Marigold,” Megan stated, and Roland turned back to see her shudder.

  “She will bother you no longer.”

  Megan took in the grief in his face, and her heart sank. She was terrified of her sister, but she did not hate her or wish to see her dead. However, the look in Roland’s eyes told her that what she had not wished had come about.

  Bracken, seeing the alarm on his wife’s face, lifted her a little closer to his chest and moved to the door. Megan spotted her father in passing, and although he gave her a tender look, she also read the mourning in his eyes.

  “Bracken?”

  “Hush, Megan,” he told her. “Until you are home and safe, I refuse to discuss it.”

  Megan had little choice but to comply, but the sky was swiftly growing light, and there was no missing the covered form at the bottom of the great stone stairway that led to the keep. Megan’s hands fisted in Bracken’s coat as she saw the wisps of blonde hair at the edge. Bracken turned her away as soon as he was able, but Megan had already begun to tremble all over.

  “How is Arik?” Megan asked some 30 minutes into their journey.

  “He will be fine. He wanted to join us, but for once I had my way.”

  Megan didn’t comment, but Bracken could see that she was well pleased.

  “We are moving very slowly,” Megan then said.

  “Yes.”

  It was fully daylight now, and although Megan felt bruised, cold, and achy, she was anxious to be home.

  “Why?”

  “Because you are not well.”

  Megan did not answer for a time. “It’s very cold for June.”

  “It is not cold at all; Megan, you are ill.”

  Megan stared up at him in surprise, and for the first time noticed the perspiration beaded on his forehead.

  “Why don’t you remove your coat?”

  Bracken finally looked tenderly down at her where she lay wrapped in his arms and coat, but didn’t answer. Megan suddenly realized she was shivering against him and felt foolish.

  “Try to sleep,” Bracken told her softly, his look loving.

  “I am not sleepy.”

  “All right.” Bracken’s manner was indescribably congenial. “Then tell me how often you dress as an old woman and go a-wandering.”

  Megan heard th
e laughter in his voice but was afraid to believe her ears. She lay staring up at him in wonder until he glanced down. Megan watched one lid drop as he winked at her and still felt amazed. She lay contemplating the change in him until she remembered her child.

  “I am sorry, Bracken, that I lost our baby.”

  “There will be other children, but there is only one Megan.” Megan’s mouth opened in surprise at his compassionate tone as well as his words, and when he looked down and smiled at her in complete tenderness, Megan came undone.

  She turned her face into Bracken’s chest and sobbed. He did not try to hush or calm her but left her to her grief. Less than an hour later, she fell fast asleep.

  Bracken, so certain that arriving home would fix everything, knew deep pain when Megan remained unwell. Her body burned with fever, and although Bracken had expected delirium, he was disappointed. Disappointed because anything would have been better than her stillness. She was sleeping round the clock, and there were times when her breathing was so quiet that Bracken was certain he had lost her.

  He was rarely gone from her side. When he did leave, the only one he trusted in his absence was Helga. He’d never seen a woman so upset, yet able to cope, as Helga was. She had come to love her mistress unreservedly and Bracken trusted her above all other servants.

  The physician had come several times, and although he’d been very solemn, each time he seemed content. However, not until the third day, when Louisa unexpectedly arrived, did Bracken begin to feel hope. There was a slight stir at the door and suddenly Lyndon was there beckoning to him with an anxious hand. Bracken moved into the passageway and immediately took his aunt into his arms.

  “How did you hear?”

  “I didn’t—” Louisa admitted, “not until I arrived. But for some reason I felt compelled to come. May I see her?”

  “Certainly, Louisa, and then I must speak with you.”

  The woman studied his haggard face for a moment and then nodded. A minute later they stood by Megan’s bed.