appeared like to scream, and he considered locking her
in her room until his return. But reason tempered ire.
Force would not accomplish his goal, so he changed
tactics.
Lifting a hand in supplication, he said calmly, “I only
wish to protect you from harm, lass. ’Tis safer for you
here. We pursue dangerous killers.”
“Why so concerned now?” Her composure broke, and
she spun away. But not before he again saw tears. Her
voice, too, betrayed her. “As recently as a few days ago,
you thought my sympathies lay with them, that I plotted
with a madman against you.”
Pressing her knuckles to her lips to suppress a sob,
she fled to the window alcove and slumped down onto its
bench to bury her face in her hands.
Her desolation rent Jeremy’s soul to tatters, and words
eluded him. He tried to speak, but only managed a
strangled whisper. “You wished to remain with the
wounded. Said you’d not assist me in escaping.”
“I said I’d have no part in murder.” Her hands
trembled as she raised her head to look at him. “I had a
part in it after all. And now you give me no chance to
make amends.”
Make amends? Insight cleared his confusion with a
jolt. She blamed herself for the deaths of Kenrick’s soldiers
and Orrick. And now, he insisted on denying her a way
to heal herself. He stepped closer, reaching out to touch
her cheek.
She shied from his hand, and the gesture lanced into
him.
“Alicen, forgive me.” He ached to gather her close,
but dared not attempt it. “I thought—”
“You thought I’d betray you.” Affront straightened her
spine, steeled her voice. “You’ve mistrusted me from the
first.”
“You lied about Orrick.”
“You knew naught of him ‘til that night in the stable,
yet you’d doubted me long ere that.”
He felt himself flush with guilt. “I had to protect
William—”
“From me? I saved his life!” She leaped up, dashing
away tears with shaking fingers. “Do you think me so
base I would save a man’s life only to surrender him to
his enemy?”
“I knew not your mind then. I—”
“You know it now, yet still insist I dance to your tune.
What is your excuse tonight, Sir Jeremy Blaine?”
I fear losing you! I love you. But he bit his tongue and
silenced the truth.
He’d never before met a woman of such courage. None
other would risk her life for strangers, no matter the
circumstance. None other thought every human equally
deserving.
Merciful Christ, he wanted to make her his alone. To
protect her from the world’s evils and make love with her
until the mountains crumbled. To help her raise their
children.
But he could not. She would ever risk herself for her
duty, and naught could change that. He was a soldier;
she’d never return his love. Mayhap she had seen too
many soldiers to see a flesh-and-blood man beneath this
warrior’s hard armor.
“There will be more fighting, more death,” he
murmured. “Why willingly subject yourself to such as
that?”
“Mayhap he didn’t kill them all.”
He stared at her bowed head for a long moment.
“We ride at dawn,” he said finally. “If you plan to
accompany us, be ready. We’ll not wait for you.”
So saying, he turned on his heel and strode from the
hall.
***
Sir Jeremy Blaine contemplated a very unchivalrous
act—throttling a member of his troop. If a certain one
delayed them again, he swore he’d perform the deed and
damn the consequences.
Four days of riding, and they were no closer to
Kenrick. Jeremy rued the reason for this futility. They
could not press the pace because of one rider’s inability
to keep up. Complaint would avail naught, as the offender
would most vehemently resist being sent back to
Kirkoswald. Impotent anger roiling, Jeremy glared toward
the source of his most recent trouble.
Lord Edward, having just relieved himself in the
woods, limped slowly to his horse and mounted with a
stiff-jointed lurch. The old knight stifled a groan.
Jeremy clenched his jaw tight to keep from cursing.
Edward was, after all, a legendary warrior who’d bravely
defended King and country. But those days had passed,
and the Earl of Cumbria had far o’erreached his prime.
Too many battles, too many scars had reduced him to
frailty. Yet, pride dictated he still fight.
Could soldiers ever become common men, or were
they doomed to be naught more than ancient, useless
shells of the warriors they once were? Jeremy mentally
shook his head.
“We should press on,” he said, not unkindly. “If
Kenrick is still in the Pennines, I believe he’s near Alston.”
Edward’s mood brightened. “Cumbria is his likely
target. He’ll strive to annex it for Harold. Mayhap we
should—”
Just then the pounding of hooves on the trail behind
them brought the forty-man troop to battle readiness.
Helmets were quickly donned, swords drawn, pikes
brandished.
“Defensive positions!” Jeremy waited with arm raised
as the sound grew closer, closer still. In a moment the
unknown force would round the bend in the trail. Steady.
Steady. His body ached with tension. Then the horses
pounded into sight.
“Alicen!” His arm lowered as she and two escorts,
surprise on their faces, drew rein so quickly their mounts
reared in protest. Pent up anger found a vent. “Christ’s
guts, woman! You could have galloped headlong into the
enemy camp!” Striding forward, he seized Hercules’ bridle
and calmed the gelding. The look he gave her ignited her
temper.
“What are you doing here?” Alicen shot back with
equal ire. “You should be leagues ahead of us by now.”
Her remark brought Jeremy such a look of thwarted
purpose Alicen thought he would tear something—or
someone—to bits. She and her escort had ridden hard
for two days and most of the night to catch the troop’s
main body; therefore, she could not be the source of his
rage. At least not this time. That left only...
“Lord Edward, how fares your knee?” she asked
politely, turning to the earl and ignoring Jeremy who,
fuming, still held her horse’s bridle.
“As good as can be expected, Mistress Kent,” Edward
replied. “Levi tends me well.”
Alicen smiled and nodded to the earl’s small physician.
“He does indeed.” Almost all of Levi’s time was devoted to
easing Edward’s numerous pains. That fact alone must
have Jeremy wroth, Alicen thought with wry amusement.
Turning her attention back to the latter, she smiled. “We’re
ready to continue on
immediately if ’tis necessary to do
so.”
“Excellent,” Jeremy returned curtly, hiding his true
gladness at her arrival. It seemed she’d been gone a
fortnight in search of survivors from the mercenary camp.
He’d missed her. Nonsense, he chided his heart. She was
the lone woman in the company, how could he not miss
her?
You care for her, whispered the voice he’d last heard
when Kenrick’s captive.
He refused to acknowledge it, thinking only of the
task at hand. “Let’s away, then.”
Jeremy swung in on Edward’s left at the head of the
troop. Alicen flanked him; Levi flanked the old knight. He
set as fast a pace as he dared, not wanting to cause
Edward more suffering than necessary, yet knowing the
longer they delayed the less chance to take Kenrick. Trying
to ignore Edward’s low grunts of pain, he turned to Alicen.
“Is it done, then?” He spoke up to be heard over the
clank of mounted men, but knew his voice carried only
to her ears.
Her mouth hardened into a thin line. She nodded.
“Kenrick rarely makes errors. Not to assure all were
dead would have cost him dearly.” She nodded again,
but he noted her glistening eyes as she looked away. “You
performed a Christian act, lass. Not every mercenary finds
his end in a proper grave.”
“Thank you,” she said so quietly he could barely hear
her. “Thank you for allowing me to do that.”
He resisted the urge to reach across the small distance
between them and touch her. Not with a troop of men at
his back and a cunning enemy before him. Perhaps there
would be time later to console her, but he could not now.
***
Jeremy’s opportunity came far sooner than he wanted,
and this added to his already considerable frustration.
Lord Edward insisted on stopping long before dark. ’Twas
obvious he could ride no farther, and Jeremy ground his
teeth to keep quiet. If he continued thus, he’d soon have
naught with which to chew his food. Added to his vexation
was their scout’s report: Kenrick was, indeed, in Alston,
hiring men to swell his depleted ranks.
Pacing would not suit. He had to suppress his rage,
reason with Edward, and convince him to go home. But
how? His patience was at an end, his negotiating skills
buried beneath anger. And none but the King himself
gave orders to an earl. Unless the earl thought it was his
own idea...
“Have your bindings been attended to of late,
Captain?”
Jeremy started from his dark thoughts. He’d been
unaware of Alicen’s approach, unaware that he massaged
his aching ribs.
“Not since before we left Kirkoswald,” he grumbled,
dropping his hand away. “But have no concern for me.
I’m fit.”
She had the temerity to laugh. “Then why do you
attempt to ease your pain? Or do you merely scratch an
itch?”
“I often massage my side when I’m thinking,” he baldly
lied. “It helps clear my mind of vapors.”
She laughed louder. “’Tis a remedy I’ve heard naught
of. But I’ll keep it well in mind should I ever need to clear
away any vapors.” She grinned.
He ignored her good humor. “Do you have aught else
to do besides plague me, wench? It seems someone,
somewhere, would enjoy your harpy’s company this
eventide.”
She shook her head, still grinning. “Nay, Captain, only
you require my talents—besides Lord Edward, but Levi
sees to him.” Instantly, Alicen sobered. “’Tis difficult to
tell a man he’s no longer of use, is it not?”
Jeremy quirked a brow at her. “Are my thoughts so
open?”
“Nay, but I know what finding Kenrick means to you.
We’d be near to Alston had Edward not slowed us.”
Jeremy chose not to berate her for continually using
“we.” In truth, it soothed him. She had in no way hindered
him, as she was reliable almost to a fault. When she left
to bury the slain mercenaries, he knew she’d rejoin them
quickly. His hand again lifted to his ribs.
“More vapors to dispel, Captain?”
He shook his head, yet fidgeted. A long moment
passed as he struggled with his pride. At last, he met her
gaze. “Perhaps you—I thought—I mean—“ His jaw set,
he took a slow breath, then said in a rush, “If you’ve
naught of importance to do, could you see to my damned
bandages? They’ve been wrong since Levi wrapped them
at Kirkoswald.”
With a short nod, Alicen hid her smile at his
roundabout praise. She found his sudden indecisiveness
oddly endearing. “I could do so now, if you wish.” She
summoned a nearby squire, saying as the lad approached,
“Sir Jeremy requires assistance with his mail and doublet.
Have a care for his ribs when you remove those items.”
She ignored Jeremy’s annoyed glare, turning toward
the pack horses carrying the troop’s supplies. When she
returned, he sat on a stump, bare-chested. Her gaze
trained on his broad shoulders and muscled torso. Lord,
he was magnificent. Suddenly, she wished to run her
hands over that expanse. To touch him as a woman, not
as a healer.
When she finally met his eyes, she caught an odd
expression on his chiseled face, but took no time to ponder
it. She had to complete this task before losing what little
nerve she now clung to. Through sheer will, she ignored
his tempting flesh and simply removed his bandages. Her
lungs were laboring for air by the time she laid the cloth
aside.
To determine the extent of his healing, she pressed
her palms against his sides. He flinched, sucking in a
quick breath.
“Is your pain that great?” Now intensely concerned,
she fixed him with a stare.
“Nay,” he replied instantly. “Your hands are cold.”
Jeremy’s inner tension eased when she appeared to accept
his lie. Truth to tell, he’d responded to the warmth of her
touch, and his reaction had him on edge. Try as he might,
he could not remain indifferent. Alicen knotted his innards
without even knowing she did. And she could easily do
the same to his heart. After discovering the truth about
Estelle, he doubted his judgement of women. He had no
wish to gain more scars. Or to cause any.
Alicen quickly reapplied his swathing.
“You won’t heal properly until you stop all this riding
and get some needed rest,” she chided softly. “Binding
can only help so much. The rest depends on you.”
“There’s time enough for that,” he replied gruffly,
quelling his desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“I must find Kenrick before he increases his troop.”
Hearing the hard edge that crept into his voice with
that statement, Alicen searched Jeremy’s face for the
kindness
she had learned he possessed. He’d buried it
beneath his warrior’s mien. She saw him tense, watched
his gaze shift to a point beyond her. Without looking, she
knew who approached.
“A soldier’s wounds never quite heal, do they, Sir
Jeremy,” Edward stated.
“Indeed, my lord, they do not,” he replied with the
barest trace of civility. He gave over to the squire’s aid
and had soon donned his doublet and mail, ignoring his
audience.
Alicen saw Jeremy’s agitation. Yet, he could not help
that Edward’s pride prevented him from admitting
weakness. “I fear the captain directs his dark look at me,
my lord.” When Edward’s gaze shifted to her, she
continued, “I’ve just informed him I’ll keep to his cruel
pace no longer.”
Alicen saw Jeremy start, then study her through
slitted eyes.
“Have you found the ride that taxing, Mistress Kent?”
Edward asked, his expression hopeful. “’Twould hurt my
heart to think we’ve been too demanding of you.”
From the corner of her eye, she clearly read the
menace in Jeremy’s gaze. His expression told her he not
only wondered at her scheme but that he’d like to hurt
more than the earl’s heart. ’Twas obvious the captain had
lost all tolerance for the battered old knight. It fell to her
to keep the two men allies.
“I suggested he split his force,” she blithely lied. “He’d
ride ahead with two-thirds of the men to meet Kenrick at
Alston, while we prevented our quarry from escaping to
the south.”
Edward slanted his look back to Jeremy, who now
wore an inscrutable expression. “Do you seriously
contemplate her plan?”
Jeremy shrugged before saying blandly, “It may have
merit, but I’ve had no time to think it through, since
Mistress Kent has only now stated her wish to slow the
pace.”
Alicen shot him an exasperated look before she turned
to Edward, eyes wide with supplication. “My lord, I crave
a favor. Sir Jeremy would fain be rid of me.” When Edward
began to protest, she cried, “Nay, do not deny it, sir. Well
we both know he finds me bothersome.” She turned
injured eyes to the object of her barb. “He says I hinder
this campaign.” Gaze downcast, she paused. “I must
admit it’s been difficult to keep up...Would you divide
Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt Page 25