The Fire and the Sword (Men of Blood Book 2)

by Rosamund Winchester

  Bron nodded. She finished chewing her bite of tart before remarking, “You are eating for two. I suppose the babe is as hungry as you are.”

  Minnette flushed. She hadn’t thought of that before, but it was true. She was now consuming all the sustenance her babe would need to grow strong and healthy. It was humbling to have such a responsibility to someone so precious.

  Her hand moved to her belly and a small grin lifted the corners of her mouth.

  Her babe. Her and Elric’s babe.

  Her smile faltered. How was she to go on knowing that the father of her child cared nothing for her? Would he care for the child? When he’d learned of the babe’s existence, he’d seemed more troubled than happy.

  Perhaps it was time for them to part ways. Now that Stringer was gone, what was left to keep her at Bridgerdon? She could not go to Chatteris, not now, not with a child to care for. There was too much uncertainty in life in a place she’d never seen before.

  Perhaps she could return to the convent, throw herself on their mercy. Would they accept her and her child? Sighing, she closed her eyes and fought back a new flood of tears. No matter where she would go, or what she would have to do to raise her babe, she would give her child enough love for both mother and father, and she would begin the process of mending her broken heart.

  Fool, you will never find all the pieces.

  The morning sun broke over the horizon, and Minnette watched it ascend. She hadn’t slept at all, and her mind and body were the worse for it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t halt the thoughts of Elric, their babe, and the life she wanted to build.

  She was no lady. She had no land or a home. She had no fortune or the hope of one. She was no better than any of the servants.

  “Minnette,” a sleepy-voiced Bron said and Minnette turned to see her sit up in the bed, her long hair a becoming mess. Minnette smiled.

  “Good morrow, Bron.”

  Bron grunted, rubbing at her face. “If you say it is. I know you did not sleep, for your feet were not in my back the whole of the night.”

  Minnette blushed, guilt making her chuckle. “Forgive me.”

  Bron waved her off, throwing the bedclothes off her legs so she would climb off the bed.

  Minnette turned back to the window to give Bron some privacy as she completed her morning toilet. She stared into the distance, her heart heavy, for what felt like hours. When she turned back around, Bron was on her knees, her hands clasped before her, praying silently.

  Like Minnette, Bron left the convent without anything other than the clothes she was wearing. Her rosary, robes, and wimple had been left behind, but Bron continued on, intent on becoming a nun despite her temporary change in location.

  Once Bron was finished, Minnette asked, “Would you like to return to the convent?”

  Bron raised her eyebrows, her expression comical.

  “If it can be done, I wish it. Though, I doubt your lord or his lap dog will allow it.”

  “Heavens, you do not have a good impression of Glenn to call him a lap dog.” Minnette imagined the tall, well-built, charmingly handsome, deadly assassin as a Welsh Corgi, yapping incessantly, and nipping at Elric’s heels.

  She nearly doubled over with laughter.

  Bron huffed distractedly before continuing, “I would like to return to the convent. It is my home.”

  That made Minnette wonder. “Where was your home before the convent? You speak with intelligence, and you have the look of nobility about you. You walk as though your tutor would slap your wrists if you hunched.”

  Bron cocked her head, her expression thoughtful.

  “You are perceptive. I was once a lady, but I am no longer. I have given my life to God, and I must return to St. Mary’s to take my vows.”

  From the set of Bron’s shoulders, Minnette knew her mind was made up and her heart was where she wanted it to be.

  If only it were the same for me.

  A knock announced Mina’s arrival with a tray. This one held two bowls of porridge, and poached eggs. After asking them if they needed anything else, Mina took her leave, and Minnette and Bron ate in silence, but Minnette was glad for the quiet. She was exhausted, her heart troubled and weary, and her body ached for something she could not give it. She ached for the warmth of Elric’s embrace.

  Once they’d finished eating, Bron helped Minnette dress in one of Bell Heather’s gowns, and Bron donned a gown borrowed from one of the chambermaids, citing that she would not wear the trappings of wealth when she’d dedicated her life to poverty.

  Now dressed, they left the chamber and descended the stairs to the great hall, where several men were eating, one of which was Sir Tristin. He was seated beside a man who looked much like him, and who Minnette could only assume was Tristin’s father, Lord Harrington LaDeux, the Earl of Kentwithe.

  “Ah, it is good to see you well enough to join us,” Lord Kentwithe called over the murmuring men. “I know there is someone who is eager to speak with you, my dear.”

  Just as he spoke, the hairs on the back of Minnette’s neck stood on end, and her body responded to a presence unlike any other she would ever know.

  “Sir Elric, good morrow,” Lord Kentwithe greeted. “I will grant you use of my private study. You know where it is.”

  Minnette’s heart jumped into her throat, but she swallowed it down, turning to see Elric no more than ten feet from her, his golden gaze burning into her.

  “Lady Minnette,” he drawled, her name on his tongue like a song of seduction. “I would have that audience now.”

  From beside her, Bron stiffened. Minnette raised a hand and smiled at her. “It is well, Bron. Please wait for me here.” Bron scoured her face, looking for anything that might tell her she was needed. Finally, she relented, nodding and moving to stand beside Tristin.

  With her head held high and her back straight, she followed a much too handsome Elric from the room and down a corridor. The earl’s study was large but comfortably furnished. A large desk and the hearth behind it took up much of the space along the far wall. There were two chairs facing one another on the side nearest the door. Without looking at him, she made her way there and took one of the chairs, sitting slowly as if she could drag out the inevitable.

  Throughout the night, her thoughts kept coming back to why Elric wanted to meet with her. Would he demand her silence regarding her child’s parentage? Would he finally admit that he’d killed Stringer Black many weeks past? Would he ever explain to her why he’d left her alone at the convent for two months?

  Stuck in her own worries, she didn’t hear the door lock click until the sound echoed through the room. Stunned, she looked up to find that Elric was stalking toward her, like a predator, graceful and yet sensual in every way.

  “Sir Elric, please tell me why you have requested this audience,” Minnette demanded, her voice flat. She would not allow him to know how greatly his presence affected her, how just smelling the leather and musk of him was making her mouth water.

  His gaze swept boldly over her, coming to land on her belly before flicking up to meet her gaze once again. His mouth pressed into a line and the muscles in his jaw bunched and twitched, as though he were biting back words.

  “If you only mean to stare at me, I believe this meeting is over,” she snapped, pushing up out of the chair. But then he was there, before her, his chest inches from her face. The heat of him slammed into her making her breath catch.

  “You cannot go to Chatteris,” he exploded, shocking her with the violence of his outburst.

  He reached out, gripping her arms. “Unhand me, Sir Arse, and explain to me what you mean by that.” She had not intended to journey to Chatteris, not anymore, but of course he hadn’t asked her that. Theirs was a relationship based only on the pleasure, the body, the carnality of desire. It would never be anything more, and she died a little inside every time she remembered that.

  Elric sighed, dropping his hands. He gestured to the chair and she sat. He sat acr
oss from her, his expression tight.

  “Just after we arrived here, I received word that some of the men had returned to Keswick, and that they had dire news to impart. I could not send Glenn alone. When we arrived, I learned that your uncle had ordered that anyone with information on you was to report to him. He wanted to know everything about your time at the convent and…” He paled.

  “What is it?” she rasped, her hands shaking.

  “He knows about your aunt in Chatteris.”

  Minnette gasped, her vision blurring. “Non! He will kill her!”

  Elric nodded, his lips pinched. “Aye. We realized that, which was why I sent one of my best men to warn her, protect her, and bring her to safety if necessary.”

  Her relief was short lived. “Also, Sir Glidden has made it known that he will not be denied his betrothed, and that he will marry you by proxy if need be.”

  Again, Minnette’s vision swam.

  “How is that possible?”

  “It is not common but, if given the authority, he can marry you without your being there to object. He could use a chambermaid to stand in for you, and there would be nothing you could do. You would be married, and you would belong to him. Lord Kentwithe would be obligated to hand you over when Glidden arrived to retrieve you.”

  Horrified beyond words, Minnette pressed her trembling, cold hands to her cheeks. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Her child would be born into a union not of her choosing. Would Sir Glidden even allow her to keep the babe? Would he order it murdered as it drew its first breath?

  She dropped her hands to her belly, panic setting in. She had to flee. She could not be there when Sir Glidden arrived.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “Minnette,” Elric murmured, sliding off his chair to kneel before her, and placing his own larger hand over hers. She blinked at the contact, looking down to where their hands were touching. Her smaller ones were swallowed up by his. “There is something we can do to keep you and our babe safe and out of Glidden’s hands.”

  A tear escaped, sliding down her cheek. “I must go,” she sobbed. “I cannot stay here.”

  Elric’s hand left her belly to cup her face.

  “Marry me,” he said, a flicker of something like hope his eyes.

  Unsure if she’d heard him correctly, she asked, “What?”

  He smiled a lopsided smile that made her heart flip over. “Marry me, Kitten. We will make a home for our babe, and you will be protected from Glidden and his machinations with your uncle.”

  For the babe. To protect her.

  He said nothing of love.

  A chill skittered over her, her tears drying, and her chest burning with the strength it took not to scream.

  “And what can you offer me?” she drawled imperiously, knowing she sounded like a heartless lady. A lady like her mother. “You are naught but a knight, a knight without a lord to serve. Where would we live? Would we clothe our babe in sack cloth and bed linens? Perhaps we would sup on watery soups and moldy bread.” As she continued, Elric’s expression grew darker.

  Sneering, Elric ground out, “I might not have a crown to offer you, but I am not without means. And I will be damned if my child is born a bastard.”

  She flinched, the venom in his voice enough to make her reconsider her harsh words.

  “You speak of these things as though you mean to be a true husband and father,” she snapped, a shrillness she abhorred ringing in her voice.

  “I will,” he snapped in return.

  “How can you? You left me at that convent for two months! Not once did you send word, asking after me, telling me that I was in your thoughts at all. I could have been dead for all you knew!”

  “You think Glenn was there because I appreciated the austerity of the buildings? He was there as a favor to me, watching over you. If I had thought you would welcome letters from me, I would have written you weekly. There was so much to say, so much to tell you, but I did not know if any of it would matter to you.”

  Struck by the honesty and pain in his gaze, Minnette couldn’t help but reach out to him, pressing her hand to his cheek. At the touch, she trembled.

  “I longed for you, Elric. There was not a day that I did not think of you, worry about you. And when I learned I would be a mother, that our night together had created something beautiful, I wanted to tell you, to rejoice with you. But without knowing where you were, I could only pray that you would not reject the babe and reject me as its mother.”

  Tears were flowing freely now, leaving warm tracks down her face.

  Elric wiped at her tears with his thumbs, his eyes glowing a rich, glittering gold.

  “You are the only mother I would ever want for my children, Kitten. There is no other woman I would rather stand beside me, strengthen me, berate me in French, and make love to me in sensual sighs and moans.”

  She ducked her face to hide her blush as heat bloomed from deep within her, spreading into her limbs until there wasn’t a part of her without an ache for him.

  Tipping her face up, Elric leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.

  “Marry me, Minnette. I cannot promise you jewels and silks and fine foods, but I can promise you a home and my protection, for you and our babe, and any other babes we might make.” He winked, his grin turning wolfish.

  Her belly tightened, and the place between her thighs throbbed. Mon Dieu, how she wished she could say yes, throw her worries to the wind, and just give in to the longing of her soul. But she couldn’t, not where there was still so much unknown between them.

  “Where did you go those two months? What were you doing?” she asked, her breath hitching when his face paled. His brow furrowed and he dropped his hands from her cheeks, leaving her feeling the cold of the bereft.

  “Will you not tell me? You ask me to marry you, but you cannot tell me what has made you look as though you have been gutted?”

  Elric closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and avoiding her gaze. He stood, turned to pace, then came back to sit in his chair once more.

  There was silence, aching, terrible silence, and it struck her like an axe with every second that passed.

  Finally, he let out a heavy breath, his face falling.

  “Before I met Tristin and was recruited into the Homme du Sang, I was the eldest son of an earl. More than a decade after my mother died, my father remarried, and my younger brother, Elton, was born.”

  A sad smile softened his expression, and Minnette felt the emotion deep in her chest. She wanted to ask him about his brother, but she knew there was more he had yet to say. So, she waited.

  “My father was an arrogant and bombastic man. There was not a man outside our gates that did not hate him. After I had become the commander of the castle guard, I made it my mission to keep the peace between the disgruntled lords and my father. One night, I received word that there were mercenaries gathering near our castle. In my own arrogance, I believed that I could protect him…” His voice broke, and Minnette felt her heart twist. “Elton…he was fiery, determined to prove himself a man. And I was determined to show him that I was more a man than he would ever be. I allowed him to come.”

  Minnette held her breath, waiting for the worst.

  “It was an ambush. My men were killed and I and Elton were taken prisoner. He died. The wounds he earned in battle festered, and he died in agony while I struggled with consciousness from a blow I took to the head. I was later released after my father paid the ransom, but my brother would never return home. He rotted in that cell.”

  “Mon Dieu!” she cried, flying to him to throw her arms around him. “Elric, I mourn for you.”

  He was silent for a moment before continuing, his voice muffled by her breasts. “I left after that, searching for redemption, perhaps some way to make up for murdering my own brother.”

  She gasped. “Non! You did not murder him! The men who attacked you murdered him. You are as much a victim as he was.”

  “Except that I ret
urned home and he did not.”

  Minnette couldn’t stop herself from kissing his head. She needed to connect with him, touch him, comfort him. It was desperate, urgent. “Is it not better to have one son than no sons?” she asked, unable to fathom the loss at all. She thought of her own child, safe and warm in her womb. The possibility that she could lose her son or daughter nearly made her moan in anguish.

  “You would think that. My stepmother did not agree with you. She confronted me, telling me that my own father never wanted to see me again, that he could no longer bear looking at me and seeing the son he lost. She demanded that I leave and never return. Numb, I did not think to question it, to force my father to speak with me and tell me to my face that I was banished.”

  “But you left,” Minnette stated.

  “Aye, I left, and I stayed gone for fifteen years.”

  It dawned on her then where Elric had gone. “You went home.”

  Elric shuddered against her and she pulled away to look down into his beautiful face.

  “Aye. I knew that Calleaux would not rest until his enemies were dead, and I could not stomach dying without first seeing my father. Apologizing to him for allowing Elton to die.”

  Elric pulled her down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her. It felt good to be back where she most wanted to be. She just wished it were under better circumstances.

  “My father was surprised to see me, and not because he thought I was dead but because he thought I had chosen to abandon him.”

  Minnette tensed, her breath catching. “But he told you to leave.”

  Elric shook his head before meeting her gaze with eyes so filled with anger and regret it stunned her.

  “Nay. He did not. My stepmother refused to believe that I did not kill her son out of jealousy. She lied, telling me my father wanted me gone, and she told my father that I had left because I was guilty of letting her son die. She played us both. We did not discover her evil deception until I returned and the truth was revealed.”

  “Oh, Elric! I am so sorry!”

  “Not as much as I, Kitten, and I am even more sorry that she is not alive for me to kill.”