Despite Kristiana’s warnings, the girl continually threw herself at the Raven, acting much like a village slut. Were it not for Penelope, an angry Kristiana would have washed her hands of the situation long ago, allowing the impetuous Letitia to discover the realities of life sooner than she should, to suffer its painful effects as well. Yet, other than bedeviling the girl with his teasing smiles and seductive manner, the Raven seemed to show no keen interest in her. In fact, when her advances became too brash he would issue a sharp word or two, then brush her aside. That being the case, Kristiana had to concede that their agreement must stand.
At once a shout went up from the castle walk. Standing on the high wall, the watchman waved and called to several men below. As Kristiana drew closer to her window she saw a dark cloud of smoke billowing in the near distance, then she noted that the hall and barracks had cleared of men. Mounts readied, Edward and two dozen of his warriors, including the Raven and the Fox, rode through the castle gates, headed toward the source of the blaze.
It was the third fire in as many days, a good dozen blackening the land over the past several weeks. Dormant fields, vacant crofter’s cottages, storage barns were all scourged or destroyed. Thankfully the village and castle were left untouched. Kristiana had no idea what was set afire now, but it appeared to be in the direction of a storage barn containing fodder for goats and sheep. Silent, seemingly invisible marauders had invaded Edward’s lands. They struck quickly, leaving no signs of whence they came or where they went. The mystery irked Edward tremendously. Knowing from yesterday’s destructive burning he would be in ill humor when he and his men returned, Kristiana left her chamber and set a course for the kitchen to order food and drink. A hot meal might quell the beast in him, permitting her to suffer less. At least that was what she hoped.
Two hours later Edward stormed into the great hall, a thunderous look on his brow. Their faces smudged with soot, his worn men followed. Seeing the array of food sitting upon the tables, they fell upon the benches, begrimed hands filling their plates with the proffered fare. Like ravenous wolves they eagerly devoured the feast.
His hard tread carrying him to his seat, Edward dropped his weight into his chair. “Wine!” he ordered with a hard bang of his quaich.
Kristiana nervously moved forward from where she stood only a few feet away. Tethered by a thread, the man’s anger threatened to unleash itself at the least little thing. One word, one false move, and Kristiana knew she’d feel its force.
Her fear barely controlled, Kristiana’s hands shook as the wine flowed from the rim of the flagon. All at once she was nudged from behind; the red liquid sloshed onto Edward’s hand. As Letitia scurried to her chair Edward cursed and sprang from his seat. Seeing his hand rise, Kristiana instinctively cowered from the expectant blow.
“Sire!” a hoarse voice erupted with force.
From the corner of her eye Kristiana saw the Raven striding toward the head table. Edward’s attention swung to the man, and as his hand slowly lowered to his side Kristiana scooted from harm’s way.
“To catch the brigands who have caused this mischief, what do you think of setting a watch—not only on the castle wall, but at various sites in the field?” the Raven asked, stopping before MacHugh. “Warned sooner, we could be on them with haste.”
“I had planned to execute such a plan,” Edward snapped, wiping his wine-stained hand on his sleeve. “Do you and the Fox wish to volunteer your services?”
“If you so desire, we will be eager to take a watch.”
Edward lowered himself to his seat. “Then it is done. Tonight you and your friend will take yourselves into the field, as will a dozen other men. Find them, Raven, and prove your worth, for this treachery will not go unpunished. Whoever is responsible will quickly meet his demise.”
“Aye,” the Raven answered, “treachery must not go unpunished. Whoever has plotted to strip these lands from their rightful holder, be assured, his death is imminent. That I promise you.”
“When you find him, do not make the kill yourself,” Edward ordered. “Bring him to me. I want the pleasure of experiencing his death firsthand.”
“You will, sire. It is a certainty.”
A cool smile spread across MacHugh’s lips. “Good,” Edward responded, satisfied. “Now feed yourself and make ready for your watch. The night will be long and cold.”
“Aye, but productive, I hope.”
Edward watched as the masked man bowed his head; the great warrior strode to his table. “Are you sure he is to be trusted?” Richard Black asked near Edward’s ear.
“I am sure of nothing. We will see what the morrow brings.”
“Do you wish for me to watch them tonight?”
“Aye,” Edward replied. “See if they stay at their posts.”
“And if they do not?”
“Then follow. If it is as you suspect, Richard, they might lead us to the nest.” Edward spoke to the man’s having questioned the attacks that had started just after the Raven and his companion had found their way to Muircairn Castle. “It will be easy enough to pluck their feathers once the covey is found.”
Richard chuckled. “Like grouse in a field,” he said, referring to the fact that the bird’s uncommon curiosity sometimes made it an easy target. “Even if they fly, they’ll not get far.”
“No. But it remains to be seen if they have anything to do with the events of the past few weeks. Keep an eye out and report whatever you see.”
“Done, sire. Your troubles will soon be over.”
“Agreed, Richard, for my temper grows short. My heir will be birthed in two months. I do not wish to be bothered with some annoying raiders who constantly keep the castle in an upheaval. I wish to welcome my son in a time of peace. Make certain I have it.”
“It will be so, sire. If I’m right, tonight will tell the tale of their loyalty. Tomorrow might prove their demise.”
“You, too, will need your rest, Richard. Eat and take yourself to bed.”
Acknowledging MacHugh’s words, Black strode to his seat, where he ate heartily.
From his own place Logan watched both men. “They seem to have had their heads together for an overly long time,” he commented to Sebastian. “Do you think they have some misgivings about our allegiance?”
“It would not surprise me,” his friend replied, tossing a bone into the rushes. In a trice four hounds were upon it, snarling and snapping over its possession. “What do ye think we should do?”
“Tell Alain the men are to stay hidden. The raids have become too predictable. For now we will give them a rest. When the time is right they’ll begin anew. As for us, we will watch our backs. With luck, we’ll snare ourselves a plump cat that has come stalking through the night.”
“His name wouldn’t be Blackie, would it?”
“More like Vexed once we’re done with him,” Logan said, smiling. “It will be a case of who caught whom at what.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I pity the wretch. Shall we give him a scare to go along with his bumps and bruises?”
“If it adds to his misery, why not?” Logan’s gaze turned toward Kristiana, who stood close to Edward’s side. Despite his abuse she seemed to fawn over him, making certain his cup was filled, his every need taken care of. “And it is time I add to hers,” he growled.
Sebastian had not missed the comment. “Go easy on her, lest ye be regrettin’ yer actions.”
A short laugh erupted from Logan’s throat. “Regret my actions? Not likely.” Through the slits in the mask eyes of gold pinpointed the man. “You still think her innocent, don’t you?”
Straightening from the bench, Sebastian stepped over it. “It remains to be seen who has sired her child,” he said, leaning close to Logan’s ear. “Until then I will reserve my opinion. If ye don’t want to be trammeled by yer own guilt, I suggest ye do the same.”
“There will be no guilt.”
“Won’t there? Perhaps not, if the babe has eyes like the sky and hair
the color of the fallen leaves in the wood. But what will ye feel if the child bears hair the shade of midnight and eyes like the sun? Think about it, my friend. Could ye endure the knowledge ye tormented her for naught?” Logan didn’t answer. “I go to speak with Alain,” he said, hoping the man was still at his forge. “I’ll see ye later.”
Sullenly Logan remained on the bench. Staring at his partially eaten plate of food for a long moment, he shoved the thing aside. What right did Sebastian have to castigate him for what he, Logan, knew to be true? Traitor, he thought, feeling betrayed by his friend. The child was not his! But what if it were? another part of him asked. As Sebastian said: How would he feel then? Especially when he’d treated her so harshly, taunting her, mocking her at every turn.
For a lengthy stretch of time Logan’s mind warred with itself. Her love is true. It is possible. The babe could be mine. No, it is not! She deceived me. She’s nothing more than a faithless bitch! Oh, God! Which is it?
He found no answer, and a curse rolled through Logan’s lips; he bounded from his seat. As his weight thrust away from the bench he nearly knocked a startled Letitia to the floor. Swift hands caught her arms; the action pulled her full against him.
“Your strength is a thing to be admired,” she cooed, long lashes fanning rapidly. Her hand pressed against his solid leather-clad chest. “Perhaps I should offer you a kiss in return for saving me from a fall.” Her hand inched upward, fingers encircling the nape of his neck. “Come, Raven, taste my lips,” she whispered enticingly. “Later you can taste more.”
Staring down at her through the slits in his mask, Logan felt his anger surge. His wife had betrayed him with his greatest enemy. Now he would betray her with her own cousin. A growl escaped his throat, and his mouth swooped, open lips meeting Letitia’s in a hard, demanding kiss. Loud voices filled his ears as the men shouted their approval, cups pounding the table. Then, when her knees were weak, he withdrew his mouth and settled the stunned and flushed girl onto the bench. A boisterous cheer followed in his wake as Logan strode from the hall.
Fiery green eyes watched his departure, as did those of stormy pewter gray. Kristiana thought to go after him, her angry words reminding them of their pact, but she knew she could not leave her place. Not without Edward seeing her.
Richard Black, on the other hand, felt no such restraint. The lovely Letitia had once shown him her devotion. As her passions blossomed she’d teased him unmercifully, escaping his grasp just when he thought he’d finally bed her. He’d not been bothered by her artless play, for he knew she’d soon be his. But now it was the Raven whom she tempted with her sensuous young body, allowing his lips to taste her own. From the looks of it, she’d been overpowered by the experience. Most likely, siren that she was, she secretly desired more of the same. His fury welled inside him, and Richard vowed he would no longer allow the girl’s disaffection to go unanswered. If anyone took Letitia’s virginity, it would be he!
With that thought in mind he rose from his seat. His hard strides carried him to Letitia’s side, where his hand clamped over her wrist; he jerked her to her feet. “You desire the faceless man over me, do you?” he questioned as he pulled the struggling Letitia alongside him to the rear of the hall. “Once you’ve seen what lies beneath his mask, perhaps you won’t be so eager to fall into his arms. Or his bed.” He thrust her through the doors and into the courtyard. “Raven!” Richard shouted; Logan, who spoke to Sebastian while the man awaited a private moment with Alain, turned his way. “The young maid is eager to see your face. Unveil it for her.”
“She might be eager, but she will not see it,” Logan responded in a hoarse voice. “You have seen it, Black. Describe it to her, if you so desire.”
“No words can totally relate your hideousness. Nor can they bespeak fully the horror one feels when he sees firsthand the unsightly creature you actually are. No, Raven. For her to believe it, she must view you through her own eyes. Remove the mask.”
Logan glanced at Sebastian. “He is lookin’ for a fight,” the older man warned in a whisper, wishing it were not so. “Had ye the sense to leave the ungodly thing on, ye could show her yer supposed deformity and let the girl swoon. She’s a nuisance to us anyway. Be done with her when this is over. That’s if ye live.”
“Aye, I will,” Logan returned, cursing himself for having reacted as he had. Undoubtedly it was the kiss that had set Richard Black off. Belatedly Logan wished he had restrained himself. “As for the scar, by now the thing would have run down my face. The leather spawns too much heat for it to have lasted. I’d have left a trail behind me, much like a drippy candle.”
“An ill wind blows yer way, my friend. Better to have been a drippy candle than one whose light has been snuffed out.” The sound of steel slicing from a scabbard drew Logan’s and Sebastian’s attention. “The saints be with ye,” the older man said as his younger companion reached for his own sword.
“Raven,” Richard called, his weapon ready, “stop your chatter and remove the mask, or I’ll do it for you.”
At once the claymore came free of its long sheath, which hung the length of Logan’s back, past his knees. The palms of his hands held fast to the hilt of the mighty blade, its point aimed at the earth. Eyeing his opponent, Logan thought Black seemed insatiably athirst for blood. “Only upon my death.”
Black shoved the wide-eyed Letitia aside. “Then I will oblige you.”
“Your jealousy makes you slow of wit. Come hither, Black,” Logan baited, his blade rising, “and we shall see who obliges whom.”
“Cease this insanity!” Edward bellowed from the doorway. He strode into the courtyard. “Lower your blades now!” Suspicious of each other, neither man complied. Fury raged through Edward at their refusal. Being closer to Richard, he grabbed the man’s arm. “Lower it, I said.” The blade fell.
The threat ended, Logan turned the point of his sword to the ground. It touched the earth, and he rested his hands on the hilt. “You saved yourself a good man,” he said to Edward, only to note the man’s intense glare.
Seeing his wife’s cousin throw herself at the Raven, Edward had sat in annoyed silence. When the living legend had kissed her soundly he’d gritted his teeth, listening to the shouts of his men. But after Richard had bolted from his seat, heading first for the girl, then toward the door, Edward could remain still no longer. Bounding from his own chair, he’d taken hold of Kristiana’s arm, guiding her to the doorway. There the two stopped and listened. As he’d thought, tragedy brewed. Knowing that at present, when marauders raped his lands, he could ill afford to lose either man—especially over a simple-headed girl whose morals were at best paltry—he’d stepped from the shadows, ordering the fight to halt before it had begun.
Now, as he gazed at the two men, he shook his head in disgust. “Great warriors both,” he chided, his lip curling contemptuously. “Each willing to be felled over the likes of a common slut.” From behind him he heard Letitia’s gasp. “Wife!” he shouted; Kristiana scurried forth. “Get this slattern away from me before I give her to the entire garrison to be used at will. For now, lock her in her room. Henceforth, because of the trouble she’s caused, she is to be kept far away from my men. And until she learns how to comport herself as a lady, she is not to be seen in the great hall either. Is that understood?”
“Yes, husband—clearly.” Kristiana’s hands settled on Letitia’s quaking shoulders. “Come, cousin,” she said, leading the younger woman back into the castle. The pair headed toward Letitia’s room.
Briefly Logan viewed his wife; then his eyes turned toward MacHugh.
“As for you two,” Edward continued, his voice menacing, his eyes cold, “keep your minds on what I pay you for. Right now it is catching the brigands who have encroached on my lands. Defy me, and I’ll have both your heads on a pike.” His gaze swept the large group of men who had filtered out into the courtyard to watch the fracas. “That goes for all of you!” he stated. Then, with an angry stride, Edward took himself bac
k into the hall, intent on finishing his meal.
Subdued yet still angry, Richard cast his gaze in the direction of the Raven. The man stood alone, his burly friend having taken himself across the courtyard. The Fox, he noted, conversed with the blacksmith. By day the man came to the castle to run the forge. In the evening he returned to the village where he lived. Of late the smithy and the Fox were given to excessive talk, or so Richard thought.
Heeding how Black’s eyes had narrowed upon Sebastian, Logan strode toward him. He stopped in front of him. “I have no quarrel with you, Black. If the truth be known, the girl does not interest me. She never has.”
“And what interests your friend there?” Richard questioned, nodding toward the Fox. “His horse is shod and he sharpens his own sword, so what is his fascination with the smithy?”
“Since MacHugh seems to frown on any antics within the castle proper, he is inquiring if there is a willing wench in the village below. The Fox is in dire need of some ease from his long abstinence.”
“And what of you, Raven? Have you abstained as well?”
“Aye,” he rasped.
“Ho!” Richard cried. “Perhaps your reputation as a great lover is false.”
“It is not.”
“Then why haven’t you found yourself a willing maid? Is it because they are not as inclined as you’d have us believe?”
“The choice is mine about whom I wish to bed. It is a matter of taste.”
A taunting grin spread across Richard’s face. “So you say.” He saw the Fox had broken free from the blacksmith and was headed their way. “Did you discover the name of a wench who’d be eager to give you pleasure?” he asked, eyeing the large man carefully.
The red-haired man frowned. “I did, but what business is it of yers?”
“Just curious,” Richard said, positive the talk had not been about a wench. “Her name, Fox.”
“Malvina,” the Fox growled, his tone unfriendly.
Deeper Than Roses Page 25