The Bride Quest II Boxed Set

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The Bride Quest II Boxed Set Page 32

by Claire Delacroix


  “Nay.” The toddler stuck out her tongue at her mother and hid behind the knees of the rough man who had taken such an immediate dislike to Burke.

  This indeed was interesting. The child was unafraid of him.

  The man offered his index finger to Esmeraude who clutched it, completely without fear. Indeed, she seemed to expect him to champion her cause against Eglantine. He said something to her, but she shook her head and hovered stubbornly behind him. Eglantine made a low sound of frustration and Burke was so surprised that she showed any visible signs of emotion that he nearly choked on his ale.

  Eglantine, the icy maiden of the court, showed her passions so readily as this? More than the hue of her skin had changed!

  He watched in amazement. The man dropped to a crouch beside Esmeraude as though he had all the time in Christendom. He touched the child’s chin with surprising gentleness and spoke to her, the low rumble of his voice incomprehensible to Burke at this distance.

  Esmeraude huddled beside him, her expression uncertain as she eyed Burke. ’Twas clear this man tried to persuade the child to follow her mother’s request—and just as clear that Esmeraude had no interest in the plan.

  “They have a rare determination in this age,” Burke said to Eglantine. She was probably embarrassed, as Alys tended to be when Bayard did not heed such seemingly simple requests.

  Eglantine folded her arms across her chest and watched the child. “If you will forgive me such plain speech, ’tis a relief at least that she no longer embraces every man to cross her path. ’Twould have been troubling indeed for her to hold that habit another decade.”

  Again, Burke feared to choke on his ale so surprised was he by this blunt conclusion. Eglantine thumped his back with such vigor that he was even more astonished by her familiarity, a fact that did naught to ease his woes.

  When he had recovered himself sufficiently to look up, she was laughing at him. “Oh, Burke, you look like a fish cast from the water.”

  Burke felt his eyes round at this assessment. What had happened to Eglantine in this place? And what had put that twinkle in her eyes?

  Of even greater concern, that rough man was striding towards him, a wary Esmeraude holding fast to his shoulder. The little girl was delighted, clearly having won her way in persuading her champion to escort her.

  But Burke’s tentative smile was wiped away when he noted the murderous gleam lurking in that man’s eyes.

  “Eglantine, I beg of you.” Burke spoke quickly, while he yet had the chance. “Tell this man I intend no harm to any of you, and that before he chooses to harm me. Tell him I am innocent of whatever crime he would hold me guilty.”

  The lady laughed as though he made a jest, a response that only made this ruffian’s countenance darken further. She then turned to the man who carried her child. She introduced Duncan MacLaren with the grace Burke recalled, evidently unaware of the animosity that emanated from the man.

  ’Twas only when Eglantine hastened away and this Duncan’s gaze followed her, that Burke understood.

  Of course. How could he have been so witless? He had pursued Eglantine all the way from France—or so it would appear to one who desired the lady’s favor—and this man clearly was smitten with Eglantine.

  Fortunately, the misunderstanding could readily be resolved.

  Burke smiled and lifted his left hand so that his wedding ring caught the light. “You have naught with which to concern yourself,” he said reassuringly. “I am already wed.”

  Disgust crossed Duncan’s features and he set Esmeraude on the ground. “And still you come to court Eglantine?” he demanded, taking a menacing step closer as he scowled. “You noblemen are all the same, seeing naught but your own desires and caring naught for the damage left in your wake!” He flung out his hands and Burke was alarmed at the size of him. “’Tis no wonder the woman cannot imagine a man would treat her well!”

  Duncan’s voice rose to a bellow that drew the eye of every soul on that holding. “How dare you so dishonor not only the woman whose ring you wear, but my lady Eglantine?”

  Burke managed to make no defense of himself, however eloquent, before pain exploded in his cheek. He fell backward at the force of the blow and landed most ignobly on his butt.

  His squires cried out and drew their blades as they ran toward him. Meanwhile, the cup Burke had held flew skyward. The ale sprinkled down upon the fallen knight even as he stared up at his infuriated assailant. Burke held up a hand to halt his squires, well aware that the entire company watched the proceedings.

  Duncan’s hands clenched as he glared at Burke, as though he longed to finish the task he had begun. Burke knew that one wrong move or word would set the man upon him in truth. He fingered his cheek and considered his choices carefully.

  “Boom,” said Esmeraude, then clapped her hands and giggled at her own assessment. When no one paid attention to her, she pouted, then lost interest in the two men and toddled away.

  Then they both heard the approach of a clearly displeased Eglantine.

  * * *

  Jacqueline was terrified by the knight’s arrival.

  Oh, she knew that her uncle Guillaume was opposed to ending her match with Reynaud, for she had listened at the door while her mother argued in favor of breaking that betrothal. And she had heard Guillaume insist upon the sanctity of a contract.

  She knew that Burke de Montvieux was her uncle’s closest friend and she guessed immediately why he had come. Who else would her uncle send to collect a wayward niece? Who else but a knight of honor and repute, a friend who could be trusted and a man well known to keep his word?

  Who else indeed.

  But Jacqueline would not go. Nay, not she. If her mother could break the law, then so could she, and break it, she most surely would.

  Jacqueline disappeared into the assembly, taking advantage of the long shadows of evening. She ignored her mother’s call, knowing that Eglantine could only welcome a family friend. Perhaps her mother even trusted Burke to see her own view. Jacqueline snorted to herself. If so, Eglantine would be glad that Jacqueline had run once she ascertained that knight’s mission here.

  But Duncan would help her, Jacqueline knew this to be so. He would help her even if her mother could not. Aye, Duncan believed in love and justice beyond that of the king’s law, for he sang of such matters all the time.

  Jacqueline trusted Duncan, as she could never trust anyone who came from Crevy. She would fetch her heaviest cloak and her sturdiest boots, she would steal some bread from the hearth, she would find Duncan later this evening and request his aid in fleeing Ceinn-beithe. Her mother would applaud her choice once she had confirmed Burke’s intent. Her mother would be proud that Jacqueline had been sensible enough to not flee into the wilds alone.

  All were gathered near the fire, or in the new hall. Jacqueline ran toward the tents, hopeful that she would not been noticed. She was glad of the shadows between the rustling walls of silk and slipped around the back of her own tent to ensure that she would not be seen. Her heart was hammering with the boldness of what she would do. She strained her ears but heard naught beyond the distant sounds of merriment.

  Much relieved, she slipped into her tent and took a deep breath. Her first goal was accomplished and in a matter of moments, she would be on her way. With shaking fingers Jacqueline struck a flint and lit the smallest lantern, vowing to let it burn as short a time as possible.

  When she straightened, her breath caught in fear.

  “How charming of you to come to me,” Reynaud said with a smirk. He was every bit as old and wrinkled as she recalled, and his eyes were as cold as ever. He stood, his arms folded across his chest, his boots spattered with mud. “Perhaps you were not so reluctant for our match as I had believed.”

  Jacqueline dropped the lantern and spun to flee. She ran into a hard wall of muscle and a pair of arms closed around her like steel bands. She struggled, to no discernible effect. She heard Reynaud catch the lantern, heard the scrape of
it being settled on the small table.

  “Very good,” he said quietly.

  Jacqueline was pushed back into the center of the tent by Reynaud’s very large squire. The man grinned stupidly down at her, then gave her a shove that nearly made her lose her footing. Reynaud’s gloved hands closed possessively over her shoulders from behind and Jacqueline gasped as he kissed her nape.

  “What a delight to finally hold the treasure owed to me for so long.”

  Revulsion rose in Jacqueline and she twisted against him. His gloved fingers dug more deeply into her skin and the squire grinned, as though he anticipated hurting her as well.

  Knowing she was lost and desperate to make a difference, Jacqueline tipped her head back and screamed. She kicked with vigor, hoping she could somehow escape.

  Reynaud swore, he clamped his hand over her mouth before the sound had barely left her mouth. He cast her to the bed, and Jacqueline rolled quickly, hoping to flee. But Reynaud was larger and faster than her. He settled his weight atop her, easily holding her wrists in one hand as she fought him.

  He smiled, revealing his sorry excuse for teeth. “Perhaps we shall settle this matter immediately,” he said silkily. “So that there can be no question to whom you belong.”

  Jacqueline’s eyes widened in horror at what he meant to do, but Reynaud’s features settled into harsh lines. He flicked a glance at his squire. “See that we are not disturbed, if you please. This will not take long.”

  The squire bowed and stepped outside the tent, abandoning Jacqueline to Reynaud and a very certain fate.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Duncan MacLaren, how dare you treat my guest in this way?”

  Could anything else go awry? Both girls were missing, Esmeraude had chosen again to be defiant, there was only simple fare this night and thin ale to be had. Eglantine was embarrassed enough that Burke might find her hospitality lacking.

  And that without Duncan blackening the man’s eye.

  Though Burke seemed to take the incident with his usual grace, Eglantine was not so inclined to let it pass without comment.

  “How dare you?” she demanded of Duncan, who merely glowered at her. “How could you greet a guest with your fist?”

  “How could he come to court you with another woman’s ring upon his hand?” Duncan demanded hotly. “What of the insult to you? If you imagine, Eglantine, that I shall stand aside while another man of Theobald’s ilk treats you poorly, you are sadly mistaken.”

  Though his words clearly were heartfelt, they made no sense to Eglantine. “Burke is wed,” she said carefully. “He does not come to court me.”

  Duncan turned a glare upon Burke, who fingered his cheek and watched them. “He is the one who spurned you before.”

  “He is the one who counseled me on the merits of love.”

  “That he might share your charms,” Duncan charged heatedly.

  “Nay! That I might dare to seek the charms of love.”

  Duncan studied her carefully. “Then why is he here?”

  “My brother sends him to ensure my welfare.” Eglantine smiled. “No more than that.”

  Duncan was not to be so readily persuaded. “You greeted him with affection. You fairly leapt into his embrace!”

  “Aye, Duncan.” Eglantine slipped her hand through his elbow, touched that he would defend her so ardently. “He is an old friend of our family and I feared for the pregnancy of my brother’s bride. Burke brings good news, no more than that.”

  “Aye?”

  “Aye. Perhaps you might trust me in this.”

  Duncan heaved a sigh. “Then I owe him an apology.” He offered his hand to Burke who hesitated only a moment before accepting aid in rising. “I apologize for my blow, but I thought you of Theobald’s ilk.”

  Burke smiled wryly. “’Tis unfortunate that you had no opportunity to grant him personally what he so roundly deserved.”

  “Are you sorely injured?” Eglantine asked anxiously.

  “’Tis not the first blow I have taken, nor will it be the last.” Burke grinned. “With fortune, ’twill heal before my Alys has the chance to comment upon it.”

  Duncan seemed amused by this. “She will have much to say?”

  Burke rolled his eyes. “Oh, indeed.” The two men grinned at each other, now in perfect understanding, and Eglantine shook her head.

  “Might we show some convention of hospitality?” she asked, disliking the sense that this camaraderie was bought at the expense of herself and Alys. “The meal is hot, if you would do us the honor of joining us at our humble board, Burke.”

  “I should be delighted,” he said, bowing low as though unaware of the hues already blossoming upon his cheek.

  Eglantine turned expectantly to Duncan, but he hesitated. His gaze was troubled. “Nay, Eglantine, I will not come without your answer.”

  “My answer?” Eglantine echoed. She felt Burke halt and turn to watch, but could not look away from the blaze in Duncan’s eyes.

  “Aye.” Duncan frowned, then shoved a hand through his hair before he appealed to her once more. “No obstacles remain between us, Eglantine. You know I am innocent of the crimes you held against me. I have courted your favor these months, I have sought to win you for my own. I have wooed you and I have repeatedly pledged my love.” He held her gaze steadily. “And through all of my endeavors, you accepted what I granted yet offered naught in return.”

  Eglantine swallowed, her fear rising cold within her.

  “I would have your answer, Eglantine. I would know whether my labors are wasted. I would know whether your heart is mine to claim.”

  “I have nigh ten months left to choose,” she insisted, her heart pounding fit to burst. “I will answer you when ’tis a year and a day from our handfast.”

  But Duncan shook his head heavily. “Nay, Eglantine. I cannot endure in this way, uncertain of your favor and our future. I cannot lay abed wondering whether my seed is planted in your belly, wondering what you would do if it took root. I cannot fear that you will leave, that you love another, that all I have to have to offer is not enough.”

  “You know all of me there is to know.” He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands. “I ask for only three words, Eglantine, a pledge of three words from the depths of your soul, and never will I ask you for more.”

  Eglantine stared up at Duncan and her mouth went dry.

  She realized that she loved him. Indeed, she loved Duncan as she had never imagined she might love a man. She loved his passion and tenderness, the way he sang and the way he roared, she loved his protectiveness and his laughter and his unpredictability. Eglantine had never imagined that true love might warm her heart, but here ’twas—unsought and unexpected and undeniable all the same.

  She wondered what he saw in her eyes, for a fire lit in the depths of his own. He leaned closer, as though he would will the words from her, his voice dropping low.

  “Tell me, Eglantine,” he urged, his thumbs caressing her skin. “Tell me that you love me, or bid me leave. Tell me now and leave no doubts between us.”

  Eglantine wanted to tell him, she truly did. She parted her lips, but fear stole her voice away. What if all went awry as soon as she uttered those words? What if she confessed her heart’s desire and Duncan exploited her weakness, as Theobald had done?

  She could not believe it, and her instinct urged her to confess, but Eglantine knew her instincts were faulty.

  She dared not trust them, not again.

  Eglantine closed her eyes and looked down, away from Duncan’s burning gaze. “I cannot,” she whispered, fully expecting him to roar in fury.

  But he said naught.

  She waited, dreading his response, but there was none. Duncan’s hands fell from her face, the loss of his touch leaving her shivering with cold. He stepped back and she dared to glance towards him, only to find him looking more defeated than ever she had believed he could.

  “Then, that is answer enough,” he said quietly. �
�I tried and I have failed, for whatever I might offer was not sufficient for you.” He held her gaze grimly, the flicker of the firelight making him look more remote than ever he had. She was reminded of the cold stones, immovable and alien, that stood in the roads and fields of this land. She was struck as she had been on their encounter that he was wrought of something different than she.

  He touched two fingertips to his lips, flicking a kiss her way. “Farewell, Eglantine.”

  And against her every expectation, Duncan MacLaren turned and strode into the shadows of the night.

  Eglantine looked after him in astonishment, for she had never thought he might leave her. The night swallowed him quickly, as surely as if he had never been. Eglantine heard the sea crashing upon the shore, she heard the wail of the wind, but she could hear Duncan’s footfalls no longer.

  He was gone.

  The first sound to break from the company was Esmeraude’s wail of frustration. She ran from the back of the assembly to halt where Duncan had last stood. And she cried his name, stretching out her arms in entreaty. The sound tore at Eglantine’s heart and the household huddled together whispering.

  Eglantine stepped forward and lifted Esmeraude, fighting against her own tears. She bounced the child and tried to console her.

  “Duncan!” Esmeraude wrapped one hand around her mother’s neck, though she stretched one hand after Duncan as though she would beckon him to return.

  She could not tell the child that Duncan was gone. She could not say the words, for that would make his departure more of a reality than Eglantine desired. So, she made nonsense sounds and hummed to her daughter. But no matter how Eglantine turned, Esmeraude looked after the man who had sung to her so many times. Esmeraude buried her face in Eglantine’s neck and wept noisily, finally taking solace from her thumb.

  Eglantine glanced up to find Burke’s gaze upon her and knew she had shown him a poor welcome this night. “I must apologize, Burke. You find our household in less that ideal circumstance.”

  “No apology is needed,” Burke said with his customary grace. “’Tis sufficient to know that you and yours are well.”

 

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