Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt

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by War Of Hearts. txt (lit)


  seated, Mistress,” he said affably. “I trust you’re feeling

  better?”

  “Aye, my lord.” Another glance at Captain Blaine

  offered Alicen little enlightenment. He was staring into

  space.

  The duke spared her further conjecture.

  “Your unwed state troubles me.” His upheld hand

  stopped her immediate protest. “Hear me, Mistress Kent.

  Your lack of a husband puts you in grave danger—”

  “I’d faced little peril until your arrival, my lord,” she

  broke in tartly. William might be her liege, but she’d not

  meekly submit to his marriage decree!

  “And you’ll be in even more danger when we leave,”

  William continued, no change in his expression.

  “Therefore, ’tis my wish to see you wed before I depart

  Landeyda.”

  Unable to remain seated, Alicen rose. No refuge at

  the window with the captain there. She gathered her

  courage and extended a hand to William in supplication.

  “My lord, please let me speak.” She dropped her hand

  to her side only when he nodded. Voice low, she stated,

  “I’ll not long endure a match to a man who cannot love

  me.”

  William’s eyebrow rose. “Think you no man would

  wed you?”

  “I know it in my soul. Orrick, my betrothed, has been

  dead to me these five years past. In all that time, no other

  has paid me court.” She bit her lip. “Most who know me

  fear me.”

  She caught Jeremy’s surprised look before William’s

  next words drew her attention.

  “I can scarce believe they’d dread taking you to wife,”

  the duke stated. “You are a gifted, selfless healer.”

  “Thus they’ve no desire for me.” At his blank stare,

  she asked, “Who would share me with my healing call?

  Allow me to go where needed, when needed?” Hands

  clenched in front of her, she paced. When she stopped,

  her eyes met the duke’s. “God’s truth, my lord, I’d not

  abide a man who chained me to him. I vowed to serve

  any in pain. I’ll not break that vow to please a husband.”

  “But ‘tis a man’s duty to protect his wife,” William

  replied. “Your wanderings place you in danger.”

  Alicen stared pointedly at Jeremy. “Before you and

  your soldiers arrived at my door, little of true danger

  occurred.”

  “Your concerns have not fallen on deaf ears, Mistress,”

  the duke said gently. “Nonetheless, you’ll wed within a

  month.”

  A visible shiver racked Alicen’s body. “If that should

  come to pass, my lord,” she returned evenly, unable to

  mask her rising despair, “there’s no telling what will come

  of it.”

  Jeremy chanced a look at William and saw that his

  duke was as discomfited as he at Alicen’s statement.

  ***

  Riding north with Fish in search of enemy

  encampments had proven a boon. Jeremy had been

  waiting and watching too long, which didn’t appease his

  desire for action. Now, after being abroad for three days,

  he again felt in command of himself. Their search, though

  futile, had distracted him from irksome thoughts—

  William’s plan for Alicen to wed. Her reaction to that edict.

  His own response to the woman herself.

  He resented that his feelings nettled so intensely.

  Holding her the day she’d fallen had rekindled a long lost

  dream, one he’d shut his heart to after Estelle’s death.

  He’d resigned himself to an existence without wife or

  children. Without love. Yet the feel of Alicen in his arms

  had made thoughts of hearth and home return in a painful

  rush.

  Hating those needs, he cursed her for evoking them.

  She had made him savor her nearness, her womanliness.

  It irked that she didn’t acknowledge his manliness in

  return.

  He’d leave. Go to York and Tynan, then to the field to

  win back his lands. Alicen’s memory would fade to naught.

  After his victory, mayhap he’d take a mistress. But he’d

  never marry her. Wives were unfaithful unless coerced.

  His thoughts returned to the healer and his despicable

  conduct toward her. He’d bullied her, terrified her into

  flight and injury. Desired her. She made indifference and

  discipline evaporate. Neither William’s health nor

  Kenrick’s threat had unseated her from his mind. ’Twas

  maddening.

  But having her could never be.

  With men’s lives hanging upon her whim, he could

  not allow himself to care for her. ’Twould compromise his

  duty. A quick tumble was not worth risking lives, and his

  feelings would never go beyond lust. He told himself such.

  William wished her a good match. As a despised soldier,

  Jeremy would not be considered. Not that he desired such

  consideration...

  “Why is the wench so difficult to blink?”

  In reaction to this abrupt outburst, Fish grabbed his

  sword. “What?”

  Coloring, Jeremy glanced sharply at his subordinate,

  but vowed to brazen out his chagrin. “I spoke of

  Landeyda’s mistress! A holy terror, she is. She plays

  endless flint to my tinder. To hear her, I grow fangs and

  horns at a mere hint of battle.”

  Fish shrugged and released his sword hilt. “You must

  admit Cap’n, whene’er Kenrick’s name is spoken, Sweet

  Jesu, your teeth grow long!”

  Jeremy’s jaw hardened when his glare brought

  outright laughter to his subordinate’s weathered features.

  “You see jests where none live, Malcolm. The Duke obeys

  her like a trained hound. Christ’s guts, he’s a peer of the

  realm!”

  “He desires a sure recovery from his injuries.”

  Jeremy snorted.

  “She’s comely,” Fish stated. “Likely the duke misses

  his duchess, and Alicen’s pleasant aspect eases his

  loneliness.”

  The notion that his soldiers saw Alicen as pretty

  unleashed a startling, raging jealousy Jeremy had to fight

  down. “’Tis foolhardy of William to blindly follow a wench’s

  orders.”

  “With respect, sir, the landed lady of whom you speak

  is the shire’s finest physician. I’d not think poorly of any

  who heed her remedies. In truth, the duke trusts her.”

  Jeremy grunted. ’Twas obvious Fish thought Alicen a

  saint. A comely saint. Nor was Jeremy himself unaffected.

  Despite obstinate denial, his want of her had shaken him.

  He wished to do far more than just hold her.

  In contemplation, he massaged the bridge of his nose

  with forefinger and thumb. Celibacy disagreed with him,

  he decided. He’d not been with a woman in months. When

  given the opportunity to touch a female, he’d reacted to

  base need, naught else.

  He smothered a sigh.

  They rode into Landeyda’s empty yard half an hour

  later, and he recalled Taft organizing men to repair more

  of the estate’s wall. Most likely the bulk of the troop was

  there. Oddly enoug
h, the stable door was closed. Jeremy

  opened it quietly.

  Make haste! Alicen needs you! Just as the woman’s

  voice filled his head, he heard screams.

  ***

  “You’ve been gathering herbs for three days,” Ned

  commented as Alicen unloaded yet another basketful of

  plants. He eyed the heaps of thyme, purslane, acorns,

  yew root, lemon grass, sweet flag, mallow, and juniper

  berries occupying every flat surface and bare floor. “These

  will yield a year’s medicinals, I trow.”

  “They’ll not last a month,” Alicen said curtly, sorting

  her acquisitions. “Not with soldiers about intent upon

  war.”

  How to explain that she’d worked so hard in part to

  feel she still governed herself? William’s insistence that

  she marry had at first shocked her. Now it frightened her

  witless. Whom would he think suitable? And would that

  man allow her to practice her healing art? If not, how

  could she live? She shuddered.

  “Lay these aside for a little, Ned,” she said more gently.

  “I’ll feed the animals and then start boiling the acorns.”

  “I could help you with the horses,” the boy offered.

  “You’ve worked as hard as I of late. Take some respite.”

  So saying, Alicen went about her chores.

  Cleaning stalls gave her time to examine the abrupt

  change in her life. Could she make William abandon his

  plans without revealing the lie of Orrick’s death? Gladly

  would she wed a man who loved her, but who could that

  man be? None in Sherford, certainly.

  Deeply distressed, she failed to hear the stable door

  close. But, linked with an unnatural quiet, a sudden

  prickling sensation along her skin caused her to turn.

  Her tension did not abate when she recognized her

  visitor.

  “You lied to me, Alicen!” The accusation came in a

  child’s tone from an adult mouth.

  “However did I lie, Orrick,” she asked quietly. His mien

  said he’d be difficult to placate.

  “You told me not of the s-soldiers.” Stepping closer,

  the lanky man jutted out his lower lip in a pout. “I saw.

  Then I...—I heard you took ill. You’re well.”

  “I fell and hit my head,” she stated levelly. Showing

  no emotion was imperative. “I’ve been abed near a week.”

  “Not hit head!” Orrick gestured wildly, then paused

  and closed his eyes as if in contemplation. “He said you

  bad ill!”

  She went cold. “Who?”

  “The smith.” Sudden cunning lit his near-vacuous

  eyes. “He made me knife. See?” He reached to his hip,

  but found no blade or scabbard. Enraged, he tore at his

  clothes looking for them. “No! No!” He spun wildly around

  before staring again at Alicen. “Left in hut! Want it now!”

  She lowered the pitchfork and plucked at Orrick’s

  sleeve. “I’ll ride to your hut tomorrow and see it then.”

  He slapped her hand away, snarling, “Liar! You not

  come. S-soldiers here. Orrick hates s-soldiers. You said

  hate them, too. You lie.”

  “Orrick, how can you say—”

  She had no time to defend herself before he grasped

  her by the tunic and slammed her into the stall partition.

  Her breath escaped in an agonized whoosh as his weight

  crushed the pitchfork handle into her chest. Knees

  buckling, she slid down the wall to kneel in front of him.

  “Devil spawn,” he hissed. Grabbing a fistful of her

  hair, he pulled her to her feet. “S-soldier’s whore. S-

  Satan’s whore.”

  Pain sharpened Alicen’s senses. He would kill her

  without knowing he had. Crying out, she swung hard,

  breaking the fork shaft against his knee. He shrieked as

  he fell, then lurched up to slap her. The blow turned her

  head, making her ears ring, but she managed to scramble

  back a step. In hopes of forcing his retreat, she feinted

  with the pitchfork’s tines.

  Slowed by his injured leg, he nonetheless dodged her

  counterfeit thrust then ripped the weapon from her grasp

  and sent her tumbling into the aisle between the stalls.

  “Liars die!” he vowed, face mottled with insane fury.

  He raised the fork to impale her, but Ned, rushing

  down from the loft, threw himself at the madman. Both

  went down, Ned beneath. The sickening snap of a

  breaking bone could be heard as the boy’s arm gave way

  under their combined weight.

  Alicen and Ned screamed as one. Staggering to her

  feet, she tried to drag Orrick from Ned’s inert body but

  was flung off with inhuman power. Her senses dimmed

  when she hit the floor.

  ***

  Jeremy and Fish were racing toward the scuffle as

  Alicen landed hard on her back. They heard the stranger

  swear, saw him untangle himself from Ned and start for

  her. With a snarl, Jeremy leapt at him and bore him to

  the flagstones. He rose, dragging the stranger upright by

  the front of his tunic.

  “Whoreson!” He hurled his adversary against the

  nearest stall, then slammed him into it repeatedly.

  Fish had dragged Ned to safety before Jeremy became

  aware of Alicen clutching at his arm.

  “Captain, stop!” She labored to sound assertive, but

  fear pervaded her voice. “Please. Let him go.”

  He glanced at her stricken face.

  “Please.”

  The moment Jeremy’s grip relaxed, Orrick fled. He

  moved to pursue.

  Alicen’s grip tightened. “I implore you—let him go.”

  Jeremy’s muscles bulged from rage, and fear coursed

  through him. He could do naught but shudder at what

  had nearly occurred. He realized Alicen had released his

  arm and, turning, saw her leaning weakly against a stall.

  “Who was that man?” he asked her, tone fierce with

  turmoil.

  She turned away to focus her attention on Ned.

  Jeremy saw confusion and terror behind her bold

  front, and this tortured emotional struggle startled him.

  Whom did she wish to protect? What feelings to control?

  And why should her cares be his concern?

  “’Twas Orrick,” the boy moaned softly.

  Jeremy saw Alicen flinch, and a sudden thought

  riveted him. “Orrick? You called your betrothed Orrick.”

  The bleakness in her eyes confirmed his suspicions.

  Nine

  “He is my betrothed,” Alicen said, weary resignation

  in her voice.

  Jeremy glowered. “I thought him dead in battle.”

  She closed her eyes a moment before gesturing weakly

  with her hand. “You saw him, saw his actions. Battle killed

  his mind. He deserted. He’s been like a child since.”

  “A very dangerous child,” Malcolm muttered. He

  brushed straw from Ned’s hair and helped the boy to sit

  up.

  Jeremy silently agreed. At Alicen’s defeated look, he

  reached out to her. “Mistress Kent—”

  “Offer no solace, Captain.” She pulled away, then said

  on a shaky laugh, “William will have you hunt Orrick


  down and hang him for desertion, then use this incident

  to force me into a loveless marriage.” She lowered her

  head into both hands.

  Jeremy felt himself flushing. “If we’d not arrived—”

  Her head snapped up. “Your arrival incited the attack!

  Had you never arrived at Landeyda, I’d not now fear attack

  from a man who once loved me. What danger I’ve endured

  has been begotten by soldiers.”

  Jeremy fisted his hands on his hips and scowled

  down at her. “If we bring only danger, mayhap we should

  have left you to your fate just now.”

  Alicen’s green gaze was watery with unshed tears. “I

  thank you for helping us, Captain. But I’ll not recant my

  statement. Ere soldiers arrived here, Orrick posed no

  threat. Now, he believes I lied and, in his madness, could

  seek to harm either Ned or me.”

  “He’ll never get close enough,” Jeremy countered.

  “So long as William remains here. But he is healing

  quickly.” Alicen thought she saw Jeremy flinch, then cover

  his reaction with a glare.

  The man could be daunting in the extreme, but she

  knew he wasn’t as ruthless as she’d first feared. He cared

  for his duke, his men, and his horse—a villain cared for

  naught but himself. And although he had little use for

  her beyond her healing skills, he was no true villain. For

  some reason, he sought to intimidate her, but she refused

  to show vulnerability to him. With new composure, she

  turned her head and glared at him.

  “If you think to terrify me, sir, have done. I prefer to

  die standing than to live kneeling.” Chin high, she limped

  to Ned’s side, bending to gather him in her arms as he

  whimpered in pain and fright.

  Malcolm rose and moved to stand next to his captain.

  Jeremy shook his head. Be damned, vixen, you’ve

  more gall than any female I know. What you fear you’ll

  not reveal. A bold man would be well matched to such as

  you.

  Such sentiments made his scowl deepen. He moved

  to the stable door, saying quietly to Fish as he went, “See

  Taft doubles the watch tonight.” He paused a moment.

  “And, Malcolm, no word to anyone as to the man’s

  identity.”

  “Yes, sir.” The soldier dropped his gaze. “She had it

  aright ‘bout our bringing trouble, didn’t she, Cap’n?”

  “I fear so.”

  Jeremy stared back at Alicen as she held the still

 

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