Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt

by War Of Hearts. txt (lit)

  driving himself so hard.

  Like the wolf who had lost his mate, he nursed his

  wounded heart and longed for her. His bed became a

  torture chamber where thoughts of making love to Alicen

  made his life hell. Without her beside him, shadows

  taunted from the darkness, mocking his inability to win

  and keep a woman’s love...his inability to trust without

  reservation.

  Driven from his bed, he took to the forest despite the

  air’s frosty nip. He ached from cold. No matter how high

  he built his fire or how many blankets he wrapped about

  himself, the chill pierced. Fueling his misery, he dreamed

  of Alicen’s warmth but awoke alone. He cursed memories

  of her supple body against him, of loving her. ’Twas all

  his fault. He’d ignored her pleas and ridden away without

  so much as a glance back.

  The hurtful words he’d thrown at her tortured him

  most deeply. She feared abandonment, yet he’d departed

  without her. Now he lay alone each night, chilled and

  wounded in spirit, unable to ward off the cold or ease his

  body’s aching. He fell into restless sleep, aware that the

  hurt in his chest was the pain of his empty heart.

  After a week of self-inflicted isolation, he returned to

  Tynan. It was the eve of the Duke of York’s arrival, and

  Jeremy, determined not to sped another night alone in

  his room, went to the guard room to spend it drinking.

  The next morning, he regretted that he couldn’t

  remember much of the night. And the single event he

  could remember made his head ache worse than excessive

  ale had ever done. He’d fought with another officer who

  had mocked his drunkenness. Last night, Jeremy had

  been of a mind to prove that, even sotted, he could subdue

  that particular varlet. And so he had. But at what price?

  ***

  There was nothing of Jeremy’s good friend in the tone

  William used to address him when he arrived at the duke’s

  summons that morning. “Captain Blaine, await my

  pleasure in the antechamber while I speak with Captain

  Richards.”

  Jeremy bowed stiffly and left, going directly to the

  nearest window casement. There, he stared dull-eyed at

  the courtyard below and contemplated his crumbling life.

  What had possessed him of late? For the past month, to

  be exact. Never had he been so ungoverned... so

  haunted...so helpless to end his suffering. He could

  scarcely believe he’d brawled with another knight on the

  eve before the most important campaign of his life.

  He needed Alicen. His soulmate. His balance. With

  her near, the world seemed less hostile. The peace he

  found in her arms was worth fighting twenty of Harold to

  win. He sighed. Once he gained his land and his lady,

  he’d never again fight for another. He’d sworn the vow as

  she slept in his arms on their return from Kirksowald.

  The night he’d privately admitted his love. No one would

  prevent him from keeping it.

  Except, perhaps, Alicen herself. She’d not responded

  in kind to his declaration of love. After his battles ended,

  would she give him her heart? If not, his life would become

  a void.

  Her wish that he not return, the fact she wanted no

  part of the carnage he would bring, plagued him. But he

  was bound to go back to Landeyda, to the woman he

  hoped awaited with caring in her heart for this battle-

  weary knight.

  The door to William’s private chamber opened just

  then, and Jeremy turned in time to see Richards stride

  out.

  “The duke will see you now, Blaine,” Richards snapped

  as he made his departure.

  Venturing no comment, Jeremy quietly entered the

  privy room. His duke stared out the window for several

  long moments. Then, hands clasped behind him, William

  slowly turned to face him.

  “Despite the warnings of nearly all who know you,

  you’ve done little else in the past month but train and

  prepare for battle,” William began. “You’ve risked a return

  of the fever that nearly killed you.”

  This statement startled Jeremy. He thought he’d been

  summoned for a reprimand. “This campaign is crucial,”

  he said carefully. “I wish to be as prepared as I can.”

  William nodded, but his expression remained solemn.

  “I’ve never known you to be foolhardy, Jeremy. But what

  I saw last night after Jason Warrick summoned me makes

  me think common sense had abandoned you.” He plucked

  a knight from the chess table beside him and idly turned

  the piece in his hands. “My officers are too dear to be

  wasted over drunken insults. Any who choose pride before

  duty have no place with me.”

  “I understand, my lord.”

  William carefully set the chess piece back on the board

  before he looked up to meet Jeremy’s gaze. “Do you? I

  know you despise Conrad Richards.”

  “He fights with his tongue not his sword,” Jeremy

  ground out through a tight jaw. “Lacking the skill to win

  his rank, he purchased it with his wealth.”

  “I am well aware of how Richards came to be a knight,

  yet I cannot afford to have him killed by another of my

  officers. He may be a cockscomb, but he brings twenty

  retainers to my cause. Every one a skilled warrior.”

  Jeremy locked his hands behind his back to keep

  William from seeing his clenched fists. “My actions were

  foolish and indefensible. I was drunk. It won’t happen

  again.”

  Jeremy saw a glint of sympathy in William’s eyes and

  wished he’d not looked up at that very moment. He didn’t

  deserve pity.

  “I’ve not seen you so drunk since the night Estelle

  died.”

  That stark memory burned into his mind’s eye. “As I

  said, ‘twill not happen again.”

  “Jason was actually worried about you.”

  Jeremy vaguely recalled his conversation with Jason

  Warrick. Something about urging his friend to drink with

  him and Warrick’s saying Jeremy had drunk enough for

  them both.

  And he clearly remembered the brawl with Conrad

  Richards. Richards’ challenge. His own acceptance. He

  also recalled William’s arrival in the guard room. His duke

  had informed all present that, should any of them duel

  amongst themselves, he’d execute the victor.

  “If you kill Richards, I’ll have you hanged,” William

  stated, interrupting Jeremy’s morose recollections. The

  duke’s gaze shifted to hold his. “What a waste that would

  be.”

  Leaden-hearted, Jeremy remained silent. He’d

  incurred his lord’s wrath, for what? Over a fool’s drunken

  insults? Because he couldn’t have a woman? Nay, not

  just any woman, he reminded himself, the only one he

  loved. The woman who wouldn’t love a soldier because

  she had sworn to protect the lives duty compelled him to

  destroy.

  “Don’t allow your fe
elings to blind you to what must

  be done,” William warned softly. “You know as well as I

  that a man on the verge of battle needs a clear head.”

  “My feelings never interfere with my duty.”

  “You’ve not been in love in years,” came the wry retort.

  “Your recollection of past experience is murky.”

  “I love no one.”

  William’s brow rose. “My wife tells me you’ve ignored

  every female at court since your return from Landeyda a

  month ago. It intrigues her, as you’ve never completely

  scorned a lady’s advances ere now.”

  Inwardly, Jeremy shuddered to think the duchess had

  observed his behavior and then informed William. Likely

  she knew the reason for it, but he’d not admit she was

  right.

  “With respect, my lord,” he began slowly, “Lady

  Guendolyn is a kindhearted and romantic soul. But in

  this instance she sees what does not exist.”

  “My wife claims you’ve lost your heart, and I believe

  her.”

  “My lord—”

  William cut him off with an upraised hand. “Alicen

  Kent is a fine woman. One worth losing both head and

  heart over.”

  Jeremy stared, jaw momentarily slack, then dropped

  all pretense. “How did you know ’twas Alicen?”

  William smiled. “You’re like a son to me. A father

  recognizes his son’s suffering. Since your return, you’ve

  been a walking ghost. The only thing that could cause

  such a change in you is a woman.”

  “Am I that easily revealed?” Jeremy crossed to the

  hearth and stared into the dying embers.

  “Nay. Yet I’ve known you seventeen years. Since your

  family sent their eight-year-old son to me to foster. I read

  your moods well.” Jeremy kept silent vigil at the hearth,

  and William moved to clap him on the shoulder. “Alicen

  is as fine a lady as any in England. Don’t fear surrender

  to her.”

  “You have promised to wed her to one of your

  subjects.” He raised his gaze to the duke’s. “But, you’ve

  not mentioned me as a possible husband.”

  William squeezed Jeremy’s shoulder. “In truth, lad, I

  said nothing for I was unsure where the wind lay. Now I

  know you love her, and I’ll gladly give her to you in

  marriage.”

  “She doesn’t love me.” His words sounded desolate

  even to his own ears.

  “Have faith!” William emphasized his words by giving

  Jeremy a gentle shake. “Alicen is completely without guile.

  She’ll be a loyal companion for the rest of your days.”

  Jeremy’s mouth tightened, and he had to swallow

  hard before speaking. “She cannot love a soldier, nor does

  she believe I’ll return to her after Harold’s defeat.”

  “I see.” William nodded slowly. “Then you must

  convince her you intend to remain with her.”

  “How shall I do that? Within a fortnight we ride against

  Harold.” Looking down, he noted dispassionately that his

  hands had again fisted into white-knuckled balls. “I

  cannot go to her until this war ends.”

  “You’ll see her within two days.” Without meeting

  Jeremy’s eyes, William turned to the map of Sherford

  lying on the table. “We need every available healer for

  this campaign. York proposes we make his castle our

  base camp, and I proposed we establish a hospital there.”

  William raised his gaze to Jeremy’s. “Ride to Landeyda

  and fetch Alicen, Ned and Rhea to Durham. Tell them it

  is at my command. I’m in desperate need of their skills.”

  “Alicen won’t treat just our wounded,” Jeremy stated,

  pride in his love’s integrity a fierce ache in his chest.

  “She may tend any she pleases.” William’s look turned

  intense. “Will you fetch her?”

  “I’ll do my best to persuade her, my lord. Though I’m

  uncertain she can be tempted from her home.”

  “She’ll have your welfare to attend, man. What more

  could she need to follow you to Durham?”

  “Trust, mayhap?” Jeremy countered with a sardonic

  smile. “I’ve not given her that.”

  ***

  Four days before Duke William of Tynan’s army

  marched north to meet the Duke of York’s at Durham,

  Jeremy rode to Landeyda with Michael Taft and two

  soldiers. Hoping to influence Alicen’s decision to his favor,

  he first stopped in Sherford and found Rhea. The old

  midwife readily agreed to aid William, provided they

  brought along the foundling, Pearl, and Liza Wick and

  her baby.

  Jeremy smiled fondly as he scooped up Liza’s two-

  month old son and held him high in the air. His smile

  widened at the baby’s gurgled laughter. Then his mirth

  faded. Did Alicen even now carry his child? If so, would

  she welcome such a burden?

  “We’ll need all the aid we can procure,” he stated to

  Rhea as he returned the boy to Liza. “Pearl is old enough

  to assist you, and Liza is also welcome.” He turned to

  Taft, who stood staring at the young mother. “Michael,

  help them with their supplies. Michael?” He nudged his

  lieutenant. “Duty calls.”

  Taft flushed deeply. “My apologies, Captain.” He

  bowed to the women. “Ladies. If you’ll show me what needs

  be loaded...”

  “This way, sir,” Liza said shyly, gazing up through

  her lashes at the lieutenant’s weathered features.

  Jeremy watched, bemused, as Taft followed Liza to

  her hut.

  “Methinks the good man has found a love,” Rhea

  observed.

  “So easily?” Jeremy countered with soft irony, turning

  to the old midwife. “’Tis not possible.”

  Rhea drew her woolen cloak around her and

  straightened her bent frame. “Mayhap for you, falling in

  love is not simple,” she said kindly, “but ’tis uncomplicated

  for those who trust.”

  Trust. That word had mocked him since he’d left

  Landeyda a month earlier. Even knowing Estelle hadn’t

  betrayed him—knowing all women weren’t faithless—he

  refused to trust Alicen with his heart. He had told her of

  his love, and she’d thrown him out of her home. Yet

  honesty prompted him to admit that her rejection came

  from fear rather than enmity. Fear he’d not return. That

  he loved fighting more than he could ever love her. He

  shut his eyes. ’Twas time to prove his love. And time to

  trust her integrity and honor.

  “Tell Taft I’ll meet you at Landeyda,” Jeremy said to

  Rhea. “I must speak to Alicen alone.”

  ***

  An unusually warm November sun lit the clearing

  where Alicen sat at midday beside her mother’s grave.

  After a morning spent cleaning cottage and stable, she’d

  seized a chance to rest. Ned had tended the animals—

  naught remained to do that couldn’t wait an hour. She

  escaped to the isolated clearing, intent upon letting her

  mind rest along with her body.

  But thoughts of a handsom
e knight who’d awakened

  her passion and won her heart intruded. Not a day had

  passed since Jeremy’s departure that she did not think

  of him. And every night. Especially at night.

  She shivered despite the warm sun. As a healer, she

  was well aware of the physical aspects of coupling. But

  she’d never suspected the emotions involved in such

  intimacy. Jeremy’s desire, his tenderness, his love had

  penetrated her heart. They lodged there, unimpeachable.

  She ached from missing him.

  “Why did you leave?” she asked the slight breeze.

  “Why ride to York to be with William instead of remaining

  with me?”

  She knew the futility of such questions, just as she

  knew his reasons for going. But accepting them proved

  difficult. She had never known a man’s love, thus she

  had no wellspring from which to draw strength for this

  emotional struggle.

  And it truly had been a struggle. At first, she feared

  she’d been left with child. Yet when her normal cycle

  resumed soon after his departure, she’d been saddened

  to think memories were all she had of him. Her

  despondency had grown so deep Ned became openly

  concerned. She did not reveal the true reasons for her

  despair, saying instead she missed life as it had been

  before William and his soldiers had plunged them into

  subterfuge.

  The breeze picked up slightly to swirl around her,

  tugging gently at her hair. Her head came up, and she

  smiled wryly.

  “You always said life continues despite us, Mother,”

  she murmured, voice directed to the Celtic cross at the

  base of the large oak. “And I must, too.”

  You are first and foremost a healer, Alicen.

  “Yes.” If she pined away for a soldier, her vow would

  go unserved. She’d waste away to naught while aiding no

  one. The memories had to be locked up, her duties

  continued...

  But don’t forget you have a heart that must be cared

  for as well.

  A horse’s nicker from behind made Alicen’s every

  nerve burn. Lost to her musings, she’d heard no one

  approach. Dread’s chill raced up her spine. Ned would

  have been on foot. Choked with terror, Alicen rose and

  turned slowly to face the intruder.

  Her breath left her lungs in a gasp. “Jeremy!”

  Though she thought she’d shouted, she’d merely