Richard gripped her hand and guided her toward the door. “Come, dearest.”
Taylor violently ripped free of his hold. “Don’t touch me!” she snapped and rushed out of the room, moving down the hallway past the amused, scornful eyes of the guards.
She tried desperately to tell herself that Slane hadn’t lied to her. But the evidence was irrefutable. She had seen him with Elizabeth since their return. She had seen their embrace.
What had she expected? Tears flooded her eyes in an onslaught of anguish. There is no such thing as love, she told herself again. Then why do I feel as though I’m dying of love?
Hands grasped her shoulders and she looked up through blurry vision to see the two guards staring down at her.
“My lord has suggested we escort you to your room,” one of them explained.
Taylor saw the determination in the grim set of their mouths. Even in her daze, she knew they were going to lock her up. She was a prisoner. She was Richard’s possession now.
She nodded, but then swung around and pulled one of the guard’s swords from its sheath! She faced them with desperation, a fear gnawing at the pit of her stomach. She was in too deep, and she knew it. There would be no escape. Not from Richard, and not from the feelings Slane had aroused in her. The only thing she had left, the only thing she had ever been any good at, was fighting. She brandished the sword before her, waving it from side to side as if warding off some sort of evil.
The guards looked at each other and then the one who still had his sword drew his weapon.
She would have laughed had she been her old self. She would have escaped in the blink of an eye. She would have told them they didn’t have a chance, talked them out of fighting her. She knew they didn’t want to fight. But she wasn’t her old self. She felt the tears trickling from her eyes, even as she fought to control them. Her vision wavered.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” the guard told her.
Taylor lifted her arm and wiped her cheeks and eyes clear. And I don’t want to hurt you, she knew she would have said. But her throat was closed so tightly the words were strangled before she uttered a sound.
She lunged forward and the guard easily parried the blow.
As their swords connected, her survival instinct took over. She felt a semblance of her old self flare to life. She attacked instinctively, driving the man back with blow after blow, clearing a way to the stairs. She whirled and dashed for the spiral staircase, skipping every other step until she reached the ground floor. She bolted from the stone stairway and into the hallway just outside the Great Hall. The corridor was crowded with villagers and merchants and mercenaries and guards, all heading from the Great Hall, and she had to push her way through the throng of bodies.
“Stop her!” a voice shouted from behind her.
She pulled up short, scanning the faces before her. A man with a red beard looked at her with beady eyes. A fat merchant pointed a finger at her. A noblewoman screamed and stepped behind a guard. They were all enemies, all untrustworthy. Someone grabbed her wrist. She tore away and surged forward, running through the corridor. Somewhere to her left someone laughed.
And then far down the hall, she saw him towering a head above the rest, his blond hair wavering in a breeze. Despite the distance, she even thought she saw the sparkle of those blue eyes. And then behind him, Elizabeth emerged.
Taylor felt a raw and primitive grief overwhelm her so intensely that it was a physical pain in her chest. She almost doubled over.
And then she felt hands on her shoulders, her arms. The nameless masses that were her enemies, pulled her back, but she fought them, kicking and struggling. The sword was wrenched from her grasp. Somewhere, someone was screaming.
The hands and weight on her shoulders shoved her down, down. She still struggled, but the overwhelming force was too much to fight. Defeated, she was shoved to her knees.
A cry of anguish resounded through the corridor. And with a jolt, Taylor realized that she was the one who was screaming.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Slane watched in utter horror as Taylor was pushed to her knees and whisked from the corridor. He rushed forward, shoving people from his path to reach her side. He raced down the aisle, skirting curious peasants and alarmed nobles. A hound dashed in front of him and he almost hurdled the dog, but it hurried out of his way.
He skidded to a halt at the end of the hallway. Glancing right, he spotted the last of the group of soldiers moving up the spiral staircase. There were at least seven men all guarding one woman. The thought was ludicrous! He found himself racing after them before he consciously decided to do so. His heart beat frantically, his mind replaying Taylor’s anguished cry again and again.
When they didn’t stop at the second floor, but continued to the third floor, he knew where they were taking her. His mother’s old room. Panic struck him. Was she hurt? What were they doing to her?
He reached the door just as a soldier was shutting it. He pushed the other guards aside and slammed his fist on the door, halting the soldier’s movement. He shoved the door open. And then stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, horrified at what he found.
Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, her hands clasped in her lap, her long black hair hanging over her face, obscuring it from his vision. His little wildcat was trembling.
“Taylor?” he murmured, approaching her.
“Stay away from me.”
The snarl froze him in his tracks. Slane didn’t know whether to take her in his arms or to leave her alone for the moment. “What happened?” he asked.
There was a long moment of silence before Taylor answered, “You got what you wanted. You manipulated me perfectly.” Her voice was so quiet that he wasn’t even sure if those were her words. A sob shook her body. “How perfectly you played me the fool.”
“Taylor,” Slane protested, her words ripping a hole through his heart. He lowered himself to his knees before her. “I never lied to you.”
“You didn’t have to,” she whimpered in a cry that spilled from her soul.
Slane glimpsed the agony on her face, the tears that sparkled like gems on her cheeks. He wanted desperately to touch her and promise her that everything would be all right. He lifted his hand toward hers, but she shifted her body, moving away from his touch. The trust she had put in him had somehow been taken away and he felt devastated. “Taylor,” he whispered desperately, “I don’t understand. What did I do? I’ve done – ”
She lifted her eyes to lock with his. Disbelief and anguish glimmered in those deep green orbs. “You brought me here, knowing I was to be his wife. And you didn’t even tell me.”
He knew she was right as soon as the words left her lips. He had known all along that he should have told her. But somehow, it hadn’t seemed important. At first, he had merely wanted the mission over. But then, as he traveled with her, he was afraid that she would not accompany him to Castle Donovan and some mercenary would find her...
The thought of her death, because he had no doubt she would fight to the end, was more agonizing than telling her the truth. So he had let her believe that her father wanted her returned, let her believe that she could join forces with Richard to avenge Jared’s death. But still, he should have told her. He should have allowed her to make her own decision. Now she would never trust him again. All his life he had lived by a code of truth, of honor. And now the one person he wanted to have faith in him would never believe him again. Not even if he told her that the sun would rise every morning. The thought staggered him and he rose unsteadily to his feet. “Taylor,” he said, “I will do everything in my power to make this right.”
“Don’t bother,” she retorted. “You’ve done quite enough already.”
Slane stared hard at Taylor for a long moment, words refusing to come. Not knowing what else to say to her, and unprepared for the torment her rejection caused, he turned to the door and opened it, departing from the room in silence.
&n
bsp; Three guards stood outside the door, all raising their eyes to Slane when he emerged. They quickly looked away from his scowl, finding interest in the lint on their tunics, a crack on the wall, the dirt on their boots.
Slane forced himself to walk down the hall, concentrating on each step as he felt his insides crumbling. He had not considered the disastrous consequences of his deception. Deception? Yes, he admitted to himself. Deception. That was exactly what it was. He had deceived Taylor, led her to believe something that wasn’t altogether the truth. And now he felt as though his world were breaking apart. He had not lied to her!
No. He had not lied. Her father had, indeed, wanted to speak to her and make amends. Her father had gone to great lengths to get her back, to redeem himself, even promising her in marriage to Richard.
Slane entered the spiral staircase and stopped. He leaned his forehead against the cold stone wall. God’s blood, what have I done? He had twisted the truth until it fit his mission, not telling Taylor the most important part. The part that would change her life forever. He felt his heart aching until he thought it would explode in his chest.
He lifted his hands to either side of his head. Taylor, a woman who gave her trust very frugally, if at all, had given it to him. And he had betrayed her.
He pounded the wall with his fists and groaned. He had betrayed the one woman who meant more to him than anything in the world. The one woman he was willing to give his life for. He had hurt her. Deceived her.
He lifted his head and resolve filled his thoughts. It was time to undo the wrong he had done.
***
Slane rapped hard on the door. When no one answered, he knocked again, more insistent.
“Damn!” a voice hollered from the other side of the door. Then the door was flung open and Richard stood before him, naked and furious.
Slane pushed past him.
“Come in, brother,” Richard said sarcastically.
Slane heard the door close behind him. The moment he entered the room, he saw Anna bent over the side of the bed, her naked bottom sticking out toward him.
“Care to take a turn?” Richard asked.
“Get rid of her,” Slane said.
A smile lit Richard’s face. “Debtless you are a force to be reckoned with.” Richard snapped his fingers. Anna was at his side instantly. “However, I think I’ll keep the wench here for when we’re done.”
Slane clenched his teeth tightly; his eyes narrowed.
“What troubles you, brother?” Richard wondered, moving back to sit on the side of the bed, pulling Anna next to him. When she slid her hand down his stomach toward his manhood, he pushed her away from him, commanding, “Be good. You’re in the company of a man who is betrothed, after all.”
“I am no longer betrothed,” Slane said.
“What?” Richard gasped. “But it was father’s last wish!”
Slane turned his back on Richard and moved toward the window.
“What happened? Did she find some flaw in your honorable nature?” Richard probed.
Slane threw open the shutters, letting the bright sunlight into the dark room.
Richard groaned and shielded his eyes.
“I don’t love her,” Slane said.
Richard guffawed. “Love has nothing to do with marriage! Or I would be marrying a lusty girl like Anna here and not that man-woman.” He dipped his fingers between Anna’s thighs and she squealed in delight. “Imagine! A woman with a sword! It’s obscene.”
Slane clenched his fists and slowly turned to Richard. “Just why are you marrying Taylor? Her father is dead. There is no more dowry!” Slane heard the desperation in his own voice. He silently cursed himself. He had to be stronger. He had to stay in control.
Richard’s gaze rose from Anna to Slane. “No, there is no more dowry. A shame. Now instead of a mere dowry, all of Sullivan’s lands and all that the treasury holds will be mine. Curse my rotten luck, eh, brother?” Richard grinned coldly at Slane. “I would be a fool to let her slip through my fingers. And I’m not a fool.”
“Castle Donovan is wealthy. Its lands are rich and fertile. Surely by next spring –”
“The treasury is depleted. I need her gold. And I need it now.”
“There is plenty of food for the winter. What could you possibly need her gold for?”
“I need it to pay my knights,” Richard said simply.
“I’ll lend you the gold for that,” Slane insisted.
Richard scowled and slowly rose before his brother. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want me to marry her.”
Slane couldn’t meet his brother’s gaze. He returned to staring out the window, looking over the lands, studying the distant village.
Richard shrugged. “Besides there are other things that I’ve grown accustomed to. Do you know how expensive silk is? And my women like little baubles from France occasionally. And there is the dolphin that I so love.” Richard smacked his lips.
And then Slane understood. Richard was going to ruin Taylor’s life because he liked to eat dolphin at feast time and to give his wenches trinkets and new dresses. Slane clenched his teeth. “What will it take?”
“For what?” Richard wondered.
Slane turned to him, his jaw tight. “To free her.”
“To free her?” Richard echoed in confusion, standing before his brother. “She isn’t a prisoner. She’s to be my wife. There is nothing to free her from.”
“I’ll give you the gold you need for your knights’ pay,” Slane continued as if Richard hadn’t spoken. “What else will it take?”
“That will deplete your years of savings. Surely you can’t be serious.”
“What else will it take?” Slane demanded.
Richard studied Slane’s face. Slane tried desperately to keep it blank, but he had never been good at hiding his emotions. That was the trap he had fallen into with his father. His father had known Slane didn’t want to marry and so had betrothed him to Elizabeth. Now Richard would read his feelings and use them against him.
“I want nothing from you. I want her,” Richard said dismissively. He turned from Slane and began moving over Anna.
Slane’s hand shot out and grabbed Richard’s arm. “I’ll give you my servitude. I’ll give you my gold. Just let her go.”
“Good Lord, Slane. Get a hold of yourself,” Richard said, attempting to ease his arm free.
But for a long moment, Slane wouldn’t release Richard’s arm. He held it in a tight grip as their gazes locked and clashed. Finally, Slane released his hold.
“This isn’t like you, Slane,” Richard baited him. “Don’t tell me you sullied my bride’s honor while you were supposed to be guarding her for me.”
Slane turned away from his brother.
“She’ll be a dutiful wife, I’m sure,” Richard went on. “She’ll make a fine after-dinner morsel. I’ll train her in the most vigorous of ways. She’ll part those creamy thighs for me. I’ll train her to open her mouth wide –”
Slane whirled on Richard, fury burning in his orbs. He recognized the trap too late.
But Richard simply smiled. “Guard well your lust, dear brother. Willing or not, she is my betrothed.”
Slane’s anger refused to abate. He tightened his fists until his nails bit into his palms.
Anna reached up to pull Richard against her. Richard obliged willingly.
Slane turned and left the room, his fury irrational, his anger fierce. He paced before Richard’s closed door for a long moment, trying to bring this tidal wave of anger under control. Richard had no respect for the unique woman Taylor was. He wanted a dutiful wife, a wife he could cheat on with every woman he could get his hands on while she waited patiently for him in his bedchamber. Well, Taylor would wait for him all right, but it would be with a dagger.
Slane’s jaw clenched. All for his damned dolphin and petty trinkets!
He wanted to cry out at the injustice of it all. He wanted to beat Richard until he freed Taylo
r. But mostly he wanted to return to Taylor and tell her of his success in talking Richard into freeing her. But he couldn’t.
He leaned against the wall, agony spearing his body like a knife wound. He couldn’t let Richard marry Taylor. But how was he going to stop his brother?
***
Taylor sat forlornly in the dark room. She hadn’t moved from the bed since Slane had left, her hands still clenched in her lap. What a fool I’ve been, she thought for the hundredth time. How could I have trusted him so completely? All he wanted was to get me to Castle Donovan to marry his brother.
And he did anything and everything he could in order to do it. Including making love to me.
Suddenly, the door opened.
Taylor lifted her head in time to see Elizabeth quietly close the door behind her. She was holding a candelabra in her hand. A fierce anger filled Taylor’s body at the sight of Slane’s betrothed.
“Get out,” Taylor snarled.
Elizabeth raised startled eyes to her.
Taylor’s back straightened. “I said get out,” she repeated.
“I’m here to help you,” Elizabeth said, taking a tentative step into the dark room.
“To help me prepare for my marriage to Richard?” Taylor demanded, rising to her feet. “I don’t want your help.”
“I can help you escape.”
Shock rocked Taylor. Escape? She tried to read Elizabeth’s eyes, but they were shadowed in flickering darkness. A choked laugh escaped Taylor’s throat. Another noble to trust. Another noble to deceive her. To lead her to her death. “No, I don’t think so. But thanks anyway.”
“You’re refusing my help to leave this castle?” Elizabeth wondered, aghast.
“I knew you were quick,” Taylor retorted.
Elizabeth raised the candelabra higher, illuminating the surprise on her face. “Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.” She turned toward the door.
Taylor turned her back on Elizabeth to face the shuttered windows. “You must love him very much.” She was horrified that she had spoken the thought aloud. She didn’t want to hear the answer. She prayed Elizabeth hadn’t heard her.
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