Immortal Love

by Victoria Craven

  “God’s teeth! Eleanor believes her mother killed herself. Everyone does.”

  “I know.”

  “What are you going to tell Eleanor?”

  “I’m not telling her anything just now.”

  “Why not? You can’t keep her in the dark about this, Dominick.”

  “She hates me. I can’t tell her about my so-called gift. She will think I’m insane.” Dominick turned back toward the castle. “No, this can wait a while, at least until everything settles down. This is still all too new for her.”

  “I wouldn’t wait too long. She may hate you more for keeping it a secret.”

  “That is if I tell her.”

  “It would be cruel not to tell her.”

  Dominick sighed. “You’re right, I have to tell her some time, but now is not the time.”

  “What do you think is making this ghost so strong?”

  “A mother’s love. Nothing is stronger than that. She’s protecting her daughter. When she died she couldn’t protect Eleanor growing up, but now I’m her vessel and she will use me to keep Eleanor safe.”

  “You believe she’s that strong?”

  “I’m sure of it. I have never experienced a spirit more powerful.”

  “Why do you think her mother was murdered?”

  “That I don’t know. She may reveal it to me in time. This time she wanted me to see how she died. I will have to wait to see how this unfolds.”

  Chapter Five

  Later that day Eleanor heard the sound of hammers pounding and shovels digging. Looking out her chamber window, she saw goats and sheep being herded into pens, and men clearing away rubble. Restoration of Godwin had already begun. The new lord was wasting no time in making the castle his own.

  Conflicting emotions swept over her. Relief that Godwin would not be plundered by Robert McPhearson and left to ruin. The resentment that the castle she had fought so hard to keep together had now been taken away from her. For the rest she felt consumed by sadness. She prayed not to be bound to any man, but those prayers had been ignored. She sighed deeply. The reality was that she could never keep this land safe on her own. If not McPhearson, other predators would try to take her land, and with no army Godwin was exposed to anyone who wanted it.

  Out over the horizon, the sun began to set. Soon the wedding feast would begin. Already the smells of venison cooking in open pits rose up to tempt her hunger. It had been months since McPhearson had burned their crops. Since then, she and her people had not eaten a decent meal.

  But along with the meal came wine and ale. Her heart filled with dread at that thought. Inebriated men could not be trusted. And then her wedding night would follow. She knew she could not endure a drunken assault from her husband.

  Yet, Dominick’s kiss in the church had been gentle, his touch when he’d found her in the hall just a few moments ago barely a whisper. His actions were conflicting her expectations. Was it all a ruse? She feared that running away and her sharp tongue may have pushed him to his limits.

  At that time she hadn’t cared, but now she faced being alone with him, and her nerves frayed. Would she pay for her insolence on her wedding night, she wondered, or would he be forgiving? Her shoulders slumped. In her experience men couldn’t be trusted. They were blind beasts, ready to pounce on any unsuspecting prey. With any luck, Dominick would drink himself unconscious, and Eleanor would have one more night of peace.

  The great hall was filling up with people, and Dominick wondered if Eleanor would come down and join the celebration. Finally, he saw her descending the stairs, and relief filled him as he watched her.

  He took the time to study Eleanor’s gown. A worn, faded brown, it looked as though it had been mended in several places. Despite her feelings for him his heart went out to her. The hardships she had endured were more than most women could bear, yet she had survived. For that she earned his respect.

  And she was beautiful, despite her shabby clothing. Nothing could hide her marvelous green eyes, her creamy white skin or her sensuous full lips. Desire blew through his soul, and he closed his eyes to tamp down the threat of being consumed by it.

  When he gazed back at her he was met with a cold glare. The jade stones of her eyes held no warmth for him, making him feel as though he had been thrown into an icy river. But since Eleanor had seen little good in men, Dominick was challenged to disprove her belief that all of his kind were vile beasts.

  Meeting her at the bottom of the stairs, he bowed deeply. “My lady.”

  She nodded formally. “My lord.”

  He held out his arm for her. She hesitated a brief moment then with a small tremor placed her hand on his sleeve. Upon reaching her seat at the head table, he pulled out her chair. He knew it was an act of chivalry she hadn’t expected.

  Trenchers overflowing with food were placed before them. Dominick saw longing in Eleanor’s eyes and wondered how long it had been since she’d seen a good meal, or a piece of meat. While Godwin was under siege food must have been scarce. Empathy for what she had endured pulled at his heart.

  He pushed the trencher closer to her. “Eat, Eleanor. There is plenty.” She hesitated for a moment then began to eat in earnest.

  While watching her pull the leg off a roasted pheasant, he noticed her wedding ring rolled around her finger and was at risk of falling into the food. She jumped, pulling away when he touched the ring.

  “Please, give me your hand.”

  She reluctantly placed it in his. He removed the ring then pulled a gold chain from around his neck and strung it through. Her body was rigid as he put the chain around her neck, and he watched the muscles in her jaw work together as though she forced herself to keep still.

  “This should do until we are able to put some meat on your bones.”

  Looking down in surprise at the intricate gold chain, she traced the delicate pattern with her fingers then eyed him suspiciously. “What will this gift cost me?”

  “It’s only a trinket, Eleanor. One which you may return once the ring sits securely upon your finger.”

  When he reached to fill her cup, she quickly covered it with her hand. “I don’t drink wine, or ale. Water will do.”

  He turned the carafe to his own cup and filled it. She watched him like a doe watches humans—with a great deal of caution—as he drank the wine. Reluctantly, Eleanor picked at her food. He noticed her watching him from the corner of her eye as he drank. It occurred to him what she feared.

  Compelled to ease her fears, he faced her. “I don’t drink to excess, Eleanor. I believe a man who does cannot be trusted.” He saluted her with his cup and took a short draw on it then set it back on the table, hoping to relieve her fears. “I won’t drink any more this evening.”

  Wordlessly, she went back to eating, but the stiffness in her spine relaxed slightly, and she attacked her pheasant with new vigor. This pleased him. It was one step toward winning her over.

  After some time her stomach was pleasantly full, but Eleanor couldn’t resist the pastries.

  As she bit into one, Dominick leaned close and whispered, “Your things have been moved to the master’s chamber.”

  She dropped her food and reached for her cup of water to try to wash down her fear. It resisted her attempts.

  When she thought it was safe to speak without choking, she said, “We are married in name only.”

  “We are married, Eleanor.” He rose and pulled her chair out for her. “Come, it’s time we retire for the evening.”

  As much as she wanted to protest, she refused to appear cowardly. Her people needed reassurance that all would be well. Stiffly she accepted his arm. Her steps felt rigid and slow, as if she were going to her own execution. Her mind whirled, trying to find a way out of her dilemma. She could charge ahead and bolt the door behind her. But she had vowed not to show the warrior her fear and dismissed the idea.

  As they approached the chamber door, her legs seemed to bend with each step, like willow branches, and her skin grew co
ld and clammy.

  Dominick towered over her as he pushed the door open. A large fire burned in the hearth, illuminating the room and the floors had been swept and scrubbed. All her father’s possessions had been removed, transforming the room from his to Dominick’s. An enormous oak bed stood against the far wall to accommodate Dominick’s great size, the headboard nearly as tall as she and carved with a simple design void of any ornamentation. Fine Egyptian silk sheets had been placed on a down mattress and covered with soft furs.

  Dominick moved to the hearth to stare into the flames. For the first time that night she was able to look at her husband without her distorted perception. He was certainly the tallest man she’d ever seen, but not the ten-foot giant he had seemed to be in the meadow. His fine garments expressed wealth and status. Rich black leather boots adorned with silver buckles laced up to his knees. He wore deerskin britches and a tunic of the whitest wool she’d ever seen. It accentuated his raven hair.

  Caught up in her observations, she jumped at the sound of her name.

  “Eleanor,” he said softly, still staring into the fire. “I have never taken a woman against her will. And even though we are married, I will not take you until you’re ready.”

  She couldn’t grasp his words, and her confusion must have shown on her face, because he drew his sword and laid it in the center of the bed.

  “This sword,” he said with conviction, “will remain here between us until you’re ready for me. And only by your hand will it be removed.”

  “Is this some game you play?”

  “No, it’s no game.”

  “If not a game,” she snapped, “what is it you expect of me?”

  His face looked weary. “Nothing this night, Eleanor.”

  He began to undress, removing his tunic first.

  Eleanor moved to the hearth and stood with her arms crossed over her chest as though to protect herself. “If you don’t plan to bed me, why do you remove your clothing?”

  “Unless I’m on campaign, I’m not accustomed to wearing garments while I sleep.” He sighed. “And I feel it’s important that you grow accustomed to the sight of your husband’s body.”

  He turned and sat on the bed to remove his boots.

  The scars that webbed across his back brought a spontaneous reaction.

  “God’s blood! Who could have done such a thing?” Who could have whipped him like an animal?

  He straightened, eyes focused on some distant place. “We have both seen men’s evil, Eleanor. In that we are not so different.”

  Then he finished removing his boots and britches. As he stood before her naked, she turned away feeling mortified.

  “Do I repulse you?”

  It took a moment to find her voice. “N . . . no. But I, I have never seen a man naked before. If men needed tending, Martha usually took care of them.”

  “Before long, the sight of my body will no longer make you ill at ease.” He walked toward her. “Let me help you with your gown.”

  She ran to the other side of the room. “No.”

  “You have had a long day and need your rest for tomorrow. You will be more comfortable in your chemise.”

  “I said no.”

  “You will strangle yourself in the middle of the night with all the layers of clothing you wear.” He sighed loudly. “I have vowed not to take you without your consent. Now please, make yourself comfortable and let me help you with your gown.

  Eleanor studied his face for any trickery. She saw none. Her mind made up, she turned her back to him and braced herself to keep from trembling. “Very well.”

  Tenderly, he moved her hair over her shoulder then gently

  unlaced her dress and slipped it down her shoulders. He offered his hand as she stepped out of her gown.

  Scurrying to the bed, she slid between the sheets and pulled them up to her chin. Her heart leapt into her throat when Dominick’s hand reached over and tucked the furs around her.

  “Sleep well, my bride. You’re safe.” Dominick blew out the candle and rolled over, giving her his back.

  Safe. Can I truly believe it?

  Chapter Six

  “It’s done, my lord. The king’s general, Wolfingham, has married Lady Eleanor. Godwin now belongs to him.”

  Dominick the Immortal! McPhearson’s heart grew dark at the thought of William’s henchman, and he glared at the messenger.

  Godwin and the fair Eleanor had been promised to him. She had been close to surrender before King William intervened and sent his fiercest general to steal all that should have been his.

  His temper flared and, roaring, he swiped his hand across the table, knocking platters of food and cups full of wine across the room.

  “God’s blood!” His fist slammed down on the table. “If William thinks he will keep me penned in, he is sorely mistaken. I will defeat the bastard Wolfingham and send him back to the fires of Hell. And Lady Eleanor will pay dearly for it” he couldn’t help smiling at the image of her cowering at his feet, “nightly, for defying me.”

  He turned to the nearly forgotten messenger. “Find the men I sent to Godwin. I have need of information.”

  The man stepped back slightly. “They are dead, my lord.”

  McPhearson’s face burned with rage. “What?”

  The messenger pressed on. “Somehow they were spotted in the forest and attacked. One made it to the border before he died.”

  “Incompetent fools.” Frustration churned like a vat of old stew. “Send word to Liam that I need him here, immediately. If he resists, tie him to his horse and drag him here.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The messenger quickly turned on his heel and ran out of the great hall.

  Yes, bringing his brother here would most definitely be useful. Liam hated William as much as he. Between the two of them they would defeat Dominick the Immortal and his army, take Godwin and push William’s borders until there was little left of his kingdom.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, Robert hastened to his chamber to begin planning to take Godwin.

  Dominick woke feeling refreshed and well rested. The waves crashing on the rocks below reminded him of his childhood, and a lullaby long forgotten played in his mind. Remembering his mother’s sweet voice always left a small ache in his heart. He had long since been abandoned by his parents, but the pain of rejection always left emptiness.

  He rose quietly so as not to wake Eleanor then dressed quickly and threw more logs on the glowing coals in the hearth. He blew on the embers until flames began to lick the firewood. By the time Eleanor woke their chamber would be warm enough for her to climb out of bed and dress without freezing. Seeing that done, he went down to the great hall to break his fast.

  As the scent of fresh baked bread filled the hall, his mouth watered in anticipation.

  As soon as he sat down Martha set a trencher of stew and a platter of bread in front of him. Her hands shook slightly as she poured fresh water, and guilt washed over him.

  His hands gently captured hers. “Martha, you have nothing to fear from me. I will not harm you.”

  “How can I believe that, when you haul my mistress back to Godwin like she’s a criminal?"

  For some reason it was important that she understand his motives. “Believe me, Lady Eleanor had no idea of the danger she placed herself in by running away.”

  “Danger, my lord?”

  “McPhearson’s men were waiting for her in the forest.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He dared not explain about Erik’s ability. “That is no matter. Without the protection of this marriage, Lady Eleanor is in peril of losing Godwin to our enemies.”

  “She would never know peace with such a monster as McPhearson,” Martha spat with venom.

  Reaching into his tunic, Dominick pulled out the pantry keys and placed them in her hand. “Take these as a bond of trust.” He wrapped her fingers around them.

  Martha looked at him in surprise, and he knew she realized the m
eaning of his gesture—the keys to the castle symbolized faith in the person who held them.

  Finally she smiled. “Be good to her, my lord. She’s had much sorrow in her life. My heart would break if she were to be disappointed.”

  “I will do my best.” He met her smile with his own.

  She curtsied slightly. “If you’ll not be needin’ me further, I have work to do in the kitchens.” She placed the keys in her pocket then looked at him for approval. He nodded. “It’s good to have a full pantry again. We were close to starvation before you came. Thank you, my lord.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  She took her leave and headed off to the kitchens.

  Dominick hurried through his meal, anxious to get started on the repairs to Godwin. Outside, his men huddled around campfires to ward off the early spring chill. Spotting Zenon talking to one of his guards, Dominick called the servant, and he quickly jogged over.

  “Yes, my lord?”

  Dominick gestured toward the castle. “Zenon, what supplies do we need to repair this roof?”

  The servant rattled off a long list of items, then Dominick sent him and four of the men to obtain them. Logs and boards were already being prepared for the building of the new stables and permanent pens for the animals. Within an hour men were digging postholes for the fences and hammering frames for the outdoor kitchens and stables.

  Looking up at his chamber windows, he wondered if Eleanor was still sleeping. Thoughts of her lying in his bed with her hair streaming across her pillow tugged on his desire. He could have easily taken her the night before, but that was not his way and never would be.

  Firmly he brushed his feelings aside. There was too much work to be done. Godwin was his home now, and it was in dire need of repair.

  The sun was rising higher, the air beginning to warm. He picked up a large mallet and began pounding posts into the ground.

  Eleanor woke to the sound of hammers and raised voices. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think the castle was under attack. Reluctantly she slid out from under the furs. A cheery fire warded off the morning chill. She stood before it and let the heat penetrate her skin. It was the first time she could remember sleeping through the night.