lips, as if in anticipation, before stomping to the campfire.
In the half light beyond the fire’s illumination,
Jeremy’s pent up breath escaped in a low hiss. His
inability to stop Kenrick’s assault on Alicen lashed him.
He could feel blood trickling from his wrists where he’d
futilely struggled to free his hands, and his muscles were
bunched and cramped.
Although shaking with frustrated rage, he bowed his
head and thanked God for whatever circumstance had
kept Kenrick from raping Alicen. Perhaps the villain
realized his victim was no ordinary woman, but one whose
value made abusing her extremely dangerous.
Or perhaps Kenrick had decided a larger audience to
witness his conquest would be more fitting.
Jeremy lurched against his bonds again. That beast
would die for what he’d just attempted. For what he’d
done to Estelle. But how? Trussed like a swine fit for
slaughter, he had no means to carry out his vow. He had
to free himself and spirit Alicen away before these
whoresons harmed her. Only when she was safe would
he return and kill Kenrick. He might even find satisfaction
in such a killing.
A long time later, he fell into a fitful sleep.
***
Dawn found him stiff with cold and aching
everywhere. He lay quietly, listening to the camp rouse
itself to wakefulness. His struggles the previous night
had taught him the impossibility of breaking his bonds,
and despair rose with the new sun. He’d be little help to
Alicen if he couldn’t even move.
Take one of her blades.
The voice filled his mind. Getting one of Alicen’s
instruments was a feasible idea, and he was slightly
annoyed he’d not thought of that himself. But even if he
did get a weapon, other problems existed. Though Kenrick
appeared to believe Jeremy had no affection for Alicen,
she had insisted he pursued her, and their kiss had been
anything but dispassionate. He would have to be careful
to act the spurned lover when Kenrick was about.
He realized that Alicen had never planned to betray
William and his men. She’d lied only about the madman,
Orrick. He stared hard as the woman in question
straightened from one of the wounded and turned to walk
toward him.
Her gaze met his momentarily before, apparently
uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she looked away. Her
smile was wry, forced, when she knelt beside him. “Did
you sleep at all last night, Captain?” She reached to push
his hair away from the cut on his head.
Before her hand reached him, he shied away, feigning
anger. “Don’t touch me, you traitorous bitch,” he hissed.
His harsh words made her recoil, then pale. “But
you’re injured,” she whispered, the words coming out a
mixture of wounded hurt and confusion. Her lips trembled
slightly. She bit them to stop it.
“Was that your intent?” Jeremy’s jaw set in a hard
line, and he glowered at her. No enjoyment came from
the pain he inflicted on her, but he remained mindful
that Kenrick watched them.
Alicen flinched, then her eyes flashed in anger. A hard
swallow brought her voice under control. “I’ll protest my
innocence but once, Captain, then your mistrusting soul
may think what it will. I’d never seen Kenrick before he
came to Landeyda. I treated Harold’s soldiers three years
ago, but none of these mercenaries were there.”
“Yet you were willing enough to accompany them.”
“In exchange for your life,” she whispered.
He laughed. “Think you to prevent my death at
Kenrick’s hand? He’s killed more men than you have
teeth.”
“I knew naught of this.”
Jeremy’s mouth twisted. “Yet, you came with him.
You’re no better than a whore who goes with any who bid
her, aren’t you?” The naked agony in her eyes cut him
deeply, but the danger they faced steadied him. He had
to keep up his pretense of contempt.
Eyes bleak, she looked away. “Many here need care,”
she murmured, then raised abruptly fierce eyes to his.
“You see me as base, so be it. You know of my healer’s
oath. Why can’t you accept it?”
Before the tears that welled in her eyes fell, she rose
and fled to the relative safety of the other injured men.
Jeremy silently cursed himself. He’d carried his facade
of outrage too far. Alicen offered the only kindness he
could expect in this place, and he’d driven her away. He
studied her as she treated the mercenaries. Her posture
conveyed anger, her glistening eyes hurt. But how could
he ease her discomfort without revealing his feelings to
Kenrick?
Perhaps he couldn’t even comfort her because he
himself suffered. He’d borne enough wounds to know the
amount of physical pain he could endure. But this
emotional pain nearly overwhelmed him. The torment of
finding Estelle near death in a greedy midwife’s hut had
driven him to the brink of madness. Now, knowing the
true reason for her death, he mourned the years he’d let
hatred of her and distrust of all women consume him.
But the torment of hurting Alicen Kent cut even
deeper.
When had he come to care for her so much? Perhaps
that very first night at Landeyda when she’d not let him
cow her. He had denied his feelings, hiding them behind
suspicion. Until Liza’s baby had arrived just yesterday.
Then, the old yearning to father a child by a woman who’d
be his wife, who’d pledge her life to him, returned. Alicen
Kent was the woman he wanted.
His mouth twisted into a bitter grimace. Such would
never be. He had no land to call his own, might even die
in the next few days. And soldiers were abhorrent to her.
Unable to watch her any longer, he closed his eyes to
will away thoughts of life with the brilliant, maddening
healer. Even under the best of circumstances, he was
not the man she’d choose to marry.
Thirteen
After a few moments, Jeremy opened his eyes, this
time to study the activities of the able-bodied mercenaries
and to plot escape. The camp lay in a clearing halfway up
a mountainside, just off a main road which ran around
the southern side of the peak. He heard horses coming
down through the woods and, soon, two of Kenrick’s men
rounded an outcropping of rock nearby. Apparently, a
secondary trail rose to the summit above the camp. It
could provide an easily defended escape route.
Off to the southwest he observed what appeared to
be Cross Fell, the highest peak in the area. That meant
the river running just below them was the South Tynan,
and they were northwest of Stanhope. Kenrick must have
been pushing Harold’s growing holdings into Cumbria.
He thought of the lords and landed knights in the area.
’Twas certain
many would resist Harold’s intrusion onto
their demesnes. Help was not far off.
But getting to that help might prove impossible. He
had no weapon, no means to free himself from his bonds.
And he’d just alienated the one person who might think
to aid him. While pondering the obstacles to his freedom,
he heard an Irish lilt, Lure her back to you, the voice
suggested.
A ruse, then. Knowing Alicen couldn’t bear suffering,
he rolled to his side, knees to chest. Though she could
not hear the sounds from where she knelt tending the
others, he moaned low through clenched lips. The groans
made his expression more realistic, more able to prick
her kind heart. She had to approach him again.
***
The sun stood at its zenith when Alicen at last rested
from her work. Hungry and tired, she stretched, hand to
the small of her back. Then fear stabbed her. Where was
Kenrick? If he’d seen she ceased working, would he come
for her? Panic held her a moment, then she stood tall,
hands fisted. In the dark of the previous night, she’d sworn
not to be the brute’s victim. If he attacked, she’d retaliate.
Reaching into an apron pocket, she touched the sharp
tools of her profession. They would serve equally well as
weapons should the need arise.
Moving toward the fire, she found herself unable to
ignore the figure lying beneath the nearby oak. She’d
managed, through fervent concentration, to resist looking
at Jeremy Blaine since his earlier abusiveness. Now,
however, she couldn’t prevent a glance his way.
What she saw shocked her. He lay curled nearly in a
ball, his face a mask of intense pain. Alarmed, she had
taken two strides toward him before remembering his
order not to touch him. But he needed attention...And he
needed nourishment.
Jeremy watched Alicen as she moved to the cooking
pot and dished up a plate of thick stew. Then she was
moving toward him, and he dared to hope she’d overcome
her hurt. When she knelt in front of him, he’d plucked
her heartstrings. She set the plate of thick stew on the
ground, then gently touched his shoulder.
“Go away,” he ordered in a tone that deliberately
lacked conviction.
Alicen duly ignored his order. “Please, Captain, you
must eat.” She helped him to a sitting position, then
extended the plate so he could see the fare. “You need
your strength.”
“So I’ll be more entertainment when they come for
my life?”
Her finger flew to his lips before she thought to stop
herself. “Do not speak such words! ’Tis wrong to tempt
fate.” Realizing what she’d done, she jerked back, and
felt her face reddening. Her gaze dropped to her hands,
now both clutching the plate, before she again met
Jeremy’s eyes. “Should Kenrick kill you, I would consider
myself your executioner.”
He gave her an odd look before whispering, “Then
help me to escape.”
Alicen glanced around the camp. “I—Eat first.” She
spooned the stew into his mouth.
“We must flee tonight,” he said quietly, talking around
the food in case anyone watched. “Before Kenrick tires of
me.” And desires you again.
“Will anyone be killed?”
Her question caught him off guard. “What?”
The spoon returned to his mouth as she asked, “Will
you kill anyone?”
He didn’t like where her reasoning was leading.
“Perhaps. But without weapons, t’would be difficult.” Her
expression made his heart sink. “I’ll not promise none
will die, Alicen. Yet if we don’t escape, they could well
slay William and all his men.”
“I cannot go with you.”
“But—“ Another spoonful of stew temporarily silenced
him.
“Let me speak.” Though her voice was low, hurried,
he easily heard her determination. “I’m pledged to heal,
not harm. If I escaped with you and you killed someone,
I’d be a party to that death.”
His expression hardened, his tone caustic. “And yet
you’ll also consider yourself my executioner should
Kenrick kill me. What a dilemma for you.”
She flushed, eyes filling with tears. “The wounded
need me here.”
“I’m wounded.” Jeremy knew his tone bordered on
desperate, but couldn’t control his surging emotions.
Glancing up, he saw two men approaching and hastily
made his last argument. “You’d remain to tend murderers
and rapists rather than leave with me? ’Tis folly to put
yourself in such danger.”
“I’ll see to your wounds now, Captain,” she stated
flatly. Her bright green eyes suddenly dulled, she turned
to retrieve her bag, which lay beside a dying man.
Kenrick intercepted her just as she grasped her
supplies.
“How goes the healing, Mistress?” he asked with dry
politeness.
His affable question didn’t deceive her—lust shone
plain in his eyes. I’ll not be your prey, she swore silently,
staring back at him as boldly as a warrior. “One man has
died. Two more will likely pass this eventide. The other
eight should live, though three will never murder again.”
Kenrick laughed mirthlessly at her insolence. “You’ve
done well by them. Harold spoke true when he praised
your talents.”
“And ’tis certain Harold would wish continued use of
those talents.” Her gaze speared Kenrick and saw what
she’d sought. He recognized her threat. Yet would he
control his lust or take the threat as a challenge? She
could not fathom him. Any concession she gained by
clever wits would be temporary at best.
“Harold’s endeavors are so far-flung he cannot attend
to them all,” he sneered. “Thus he leaves his captains to
conduct affairs as they see fit.” He stepped closer to hiss,
“Wisdom dictates compliance, wench.”
Panic threatened to undo her, but she schooled her
features to hide it and tilted her chin a notch. “All that
can be done for your wounded is being done, sir. Thus
do I cooperate.” She moved past him in two long strides,
returning to Jeremy.
Kenrick followed, a smile playing about his hard lips.
Jeremy tensed at their approach. If Kenrick had
somehow tricked Alicen into revealing his plot, his life
would end in moments. But Kenrick looked amused, not
angry. And lust burned in his jackal eyes. Jeremy knew
he again thought to force Alicen. Hatred flared inside him.
And despair. He needed her close enough to touch so he
could secure a weapon. With Kenrick near, his chance of
success lowered considerably. Desire to kill the man
already ran too strong to ignore. If Kenrick touched Alicen,
Jeremy’s rage would not be contained. He steeled himself
to remain calm. Their lives depended on his being cool-
&n
bsp; headed.
“I’m going to treat the captain’s injuries,” Alicen stated
without turning. “To do so, I must unbind him.”
The devil’s black eyes examined his captive. “He’ll not
go far should he attempt to flee.”
Jeremy glared at Kenrick but held his tongue.
Alicen quickly removed his bonds, arming doublet
and linen shirt. Then she was on her knees at his right
side, gently cleansing away the dried blood in his hair.
That done, she turned her attention to cleaning his many
scrapes and bruises. He noticed that her hands shook
slightly as she touched his chest, that her cheeks were
flushed. Most likely fear caused her tremors, but he
wanted to think she reacted to him. Mayhap she recalled,
as he did, their ardent kisses. Her touch was certainly
far closer to a caress than to a mere healing contact, and,
under less perilous circumstances, he’d be hard-pressed
not to touch her, too.
But seduction had no place in his plot. He needed a
weapon. Flinching, he muttered that she hurt him.
Kenrick laughed aloud. “Count yourself fortunate I
allow her to treat you at all, Blaine,” he stated darkly, his
humor fleeing as quickly as it burst forth. “I’d leave you
to rot.”
“I think not,” Jeremy replied matter-of-factly. “We
were friends once, Kenrick. Before France. Before greed
and cruelty twisted your soul. Mayhap in remembrance
of those days you wish to ease my suffering.”
“Bah!” Kenrick spat on the ground by Jeremy’s feet.
“The past means nothing. You were an idealistic fool,
Blaine. But Estelle cured you, did she not?”
“You’ll die for what you did to her,” Jeremy replied
with cold conviction. He turned hard eyes on Alicen. “I’ve
loved no one since. And never will...We’ve both changed
since our fellowship ended, Kenrick.”
“You more than I, old friend.”
Jeremy ignored him, watching instead as the
compassion in Alicen’s eyes melted to anger. Her pain
racked him, but his cruel facade took precedence until
they were safe. He strove to drive all tenderness from his
gaze, to think only of her lie about Orrick. Of the lie he’d
lived since Estelle’s death. He had to dupe Kenrick.
Anger, he noted, drove Alicen’s gentleness away, and
she finished dressing his wounds in rough haste. Once
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