Lily watched as the two men exchanged glances. Nicholas nodded, looking satisfied, then came forward and took her hands in his.
“Are you sure, Lily?” Startled, she glanced quickly at Ian.
“He knows already, Lily,” Ian said. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. ““Twas his suggestion.”
She felt her heart plummet to her toes, taking with it all her hope and joy. Marrying her was another duty to him, little more. She could accept that he did want her—her body—but as for anything else… She’d be a fool if she looked for more.
Resolution stiffened her spine—and her resolve. She wanted Ian. She wanted to tame the Dragon, she thought, savoring the frisson of excitement dancing over her flesh.
And if this was the only way she could get him, then so be it.
She could be patient. She’d make him want more.
“Aye, milord. I’m sure ‘tis what I want,” she said, smiling reassuringly at Nicholas. She was surprised by the approval she saw in his unusual violet eyes. He appeared to be genuinely happy for them.
Catrin embraced her brother, then came forward to wrap her arms about Lily, as well.
“When will you do it?” she asked.
“The priest is willing, once He’s reassured himself that you’re not forcing Lily into this.”
“Will there be any trouble because she has no guardian?”
Nicholas asked.
“Or is she Llywelyn’s ward?”
Ian frowned.
“I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose there’s no problem, so long as the priest’s not loyal to Llywelyn.”
“I’ll stand as her guardian,” Nicholas offered.
“Since she’s Catrin’s kin, that should satisfy the legalities. If it doesn’t, Rannulf should agree. He’s her brother-by-marriage, after all.”
“So long as the marriage is legal and binding,” Ian said.
“Otherwise, ‘tis all for naught. Llywelyn cannot be permitted to overturn it.”
Catrin took Lily by the ann.
“Come along, then, Lily.
I’ve the perfect gown for you to wear. We’ll meet you in the chapel before sunset,” she told the men.
“See that you’re ready.”
The thunder of feet pounding on the stairs heralded a furious knocking at the door. When Catrin pulled it open, a breathless man-at-arms nearly fell into the chamber.
“Milord!
“Tis a company of Welshman, a dozen or so, fast approaching the gates.”
“Do they look as though they’ve come to visit, or to fight?” Nicholas asked.
“Fight, milord.”
“Damnation,” Ian snarled, striding over to the window and peering out.
“Damn me for a fool. I thought we’d have more lime.”
“Gather your things. Quickly,” Catrin said, heading for the door.
“I’ll collect some food,” she told Nicholas.
Lily watched everything unfold in silence. They’d been so close! But she couldn’t allow this to go on.
“Wait!”
she cried.
“We cannot run forever. I’m sorry, Dragon.”
She met his gaze.
“I cannot many you. I can’t ruin your life this way. if I go back with them, they’ll leave you alone.”
Ian shook his head sharply.
“It won’t matter, sweeting
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms close to her body. Nicholas cursed when she drew back her heel and kicked him in the leg. How could they do this?
“Ian!” she shrieked, before a callused hand covered her mouth.
Ian reached out and touched her cheek lightly.
“I’m sorry, Lily. But I will not give you up.”
Chapter Twelve
Cursing himself for a fool, Ian took Lily from Nicholas’s hold and, keeping one hand over her mouth, pushed her down into a chair.
“If you promise to be quiet, I’ll take away my hand.” Her eyes flashed angrily, but she nodded.
Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he loomed over her.
“I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me. Do you understand?”
“But you’re doing the same for me.”
He glared at her.
“Nay, I am not. It is my choice to marry you. No one is forcing me to. You gave me your solemn oath you would marry me, Lily. Will you deny me, and be forsworn?”
Although she glared at him still, she shook her head, He stepped back from the chair, but stood close, lest she take it into her head to run.
“Then come with me now. We can be away from here before they’ve made it to the gates, if we hurry. Believe me. I’ll keep you safe.”
Catrin rushed into the room and thrust a cloth sack into his hands. ““Tis all I could gather so quickly, but it should see you to l’Eau Clair.”
A servant brought in Ian’s saddlebags and weapons. He accepted them gratefully, buckling on his sword belt and carrying Dai’s scabbarded sword.
Catrin embraced Lily.
“Don’t worry, cousin. It will be all right.”
Ian leaned down and kissed his sister’s cheek, then grabbed Lily by the hand.
“I’ll send word,” he called as they hurried from the room after Nicholas.
He led them into into the master’s chamber. He dragged a curtain aside, the rings clattering on the rod, to expose a garderobe. Ian helped him lift out an armload of clothes from the hooks on the walls.
Lily looked at Nicholas as though he were daft.
“We’re not going down the privy shaft—”
“Nay,” Nicholas said, laughing.
“There’s another opening in the wall, parallel to the waste shaft. You will slide down that into a tunnel beneath the moat. Ian knows the way from there.”
““Tis a pity we won’t have the homes,” Ian said, frowning.
“The journey to l’Eau Clair will take forever on foot.”
Nicholas smiled.
“There are mounts waiting for you.
Once you reach the forest, go to the manor farm—you know the place.”
Ian nodded. He’d been there before.
“Tell Alfric you’re ready to leave. He knows which mounts will serve you best.
“Tis already arranged.”
Trust Talbot to think of a way out, in case they needed it. He reached out and clasped Nicholas’s hand.
“Thank you. ‘
He could see that the other man knew exactly what he was thanking him for.
“You’d have done the same,” he said.
Nicholas turned to Lily and kissed her cheek.
“Take care of him. And give Gillian a kiss for me. Go with God,” he told them, tugging a board from the wall and exposing the passageway door.
Ian went first. The copper-lined passage sloped downward gradually, allowing him to control his descent. So long as he kept the swords tight against his side, he had no difficulty. He landed on his feet in a dark, damp pit, their bags sliding down the chute behind him.
He’d no sooner moved out of the way than Lily popped out after him.
“Are you all right?” he asked as he felt for her hand.
“Aye,” she said, sounding breathless. She pressed a candle and flint into his hands.
“Nicholas said to give you this.”
The candlelight illuminated a narrow corridor, not quite high enough for him to stand upright. Their clothing brushed against the damp stone walls.
Ian felt like a packhorse with his saddlebags and the sack of food slung over his shoulders. He carried the candle and crept forward, Lily clinging to his belt like a leech.
“I hate these dark, close places.” Her voice was faint and quivered slightly.
“I’ve spent a lot of time in them since I met you. They must be part of the Dragon’s lair,” she said, giggling.
She had to be terrified, he thought with concern. She didn’t seem the type of woman to giggle. He pic
ked up the pace, moving as swiftly as possible. He’d be glad to get out of here, as well. He felt like a crab scuttling along.
Finally they came to a metal-banded wooden door, laying on a slant above them. He snuffed the candle, reached back and pried Lily’s fingers from his belt and handed the stub to her.
“Keep this,” he said.
Then, throwing his weight into it, he pushed on the door until it gave, swinging upward with a faint squeal of the hinges. Light poured into the tunnel, temporarily blinding him.
“Not too bad for a bolt hole. But I hope there’s no one waiting out there for us, I cannot see a thing.” He blinked until his eyes could focus again.
Praise God, they were alone. He levered himself out of the hole, then reached down and hauled Lily up beside him.
He framed her face with his hands.
“I may need to order you about quickly, if there’s danger. Promise me you’ll do whatever I tell you.”
She pressed a kiss into his palm.
“I promise,” she said, her eyes solemn.
“And I’m sorry for what I did back there.
“Tis just…”
“I understand.” He did. He’d have done the same for her. He smoothed back the strands of hair escaping her braid; she’d lost her veil in the passageway. But he also knew he could not permit her to fall into Llywelyn’s grasp again.
He adjusted the packs and took Lily’s hand.
“Come on. It’s a bit of a walk to the farm.” He cast a measuring look at the sky.
“We’d best be going.”
They left the farm at nightfall, Ian took only one hors el Lily had done well with Mouse on the journey to Ashby, but he truly believed it was only because the stallion had taken a liking to her. The mount he had chosen now looked to have the stamina they’d need, but it was clear he also had a nasty disposition. And the terrain was difficult in many places, far worse than the route they’d traveled to Ashby. He didn’t doubt Lily’s courage, but her lack of skill could have dangerous consequences. Better to have to rest more often than to worry that Lily’s horse might run off with her, or harm her in some way.
Besides, on this leg of their journey, endurance was more important than speed. Especially since he intended a detour on the way to l’Eau Clair.
There was a small, out-of-the-way village he knew of, a village whose priest owed the Dragon an enormous debt.
Before they finished the journey to L’Eau Clair, he intended to collect.
Toad took up his usual position in the wall near Llywelyn’s chamber, his body fairly quivering with excitement.
He’d learned that some of Llywelyn’s men had returned to Dolwyddelan, and the Viking’s name had been mentioned. Now, perhaps, he’d be able to discover where Siwardson had taken Lily.
He’d overheard little of importance the past few days save that the Dragon evidently hadn’t gone to Lord Rhys’s keep, as he’d been ordered to by the prince himself.
The question was, where had he gone instead?
Toad eased his aching shoulder against the wall. All this skulking about in the passageways took its toll on his poor, broken body. He’d wondered, as he lay near death with his limbs twisted all awry, if it would be worth it to survive. He had been a handsome man once, his body strong and well formed, in the full flower of his manly vigor. It had never been difficult for him to find willing vessels for his passion; women had always fallen into his grasp with a gratifying willingness, eager to satisfy his needs.
All women except one.
That woman he had wanted with a desire that far outstripped the pulling lust he felt for the others. She could have given him power, lands, and a connection to the Norman king—as well as strengthening his ties with his kinsman, Llywelyn. The fact that she was related to him, as well, added a delicious twist to an already perfect situation.
Now the only outlet for his lust was vengeance. He savored his desire for revenge with every bit as much enjoyment as he’d ever found within a woman’s body.
The men who had done this to him would pay indirectly for their crimes, once he regained the power and position he had lost.
Soon, he told himself, his crooked face twisted into a smile.
Soon Lily would be his, and his life would begin anew.
He pressed his ear to the wall as the level of noise in the room beyond increased.
“Sit down and stop babbling,” he muttered. He could hear the sound of a deep, booming voice–Siwardson’s, he hoped—but he couldn’t understand the words.
Then, suddenly, the volume increased. Tamping down his excitement, Toad pressed his ear to the wall and settled down to listen.
Llywelyn stood before the fire in his chamber, a goblet of wine in his hand, and surveyed the motley band he’d sent out in search of the Dragon. They hadn’t brought him back with them; that much was obvious. But he wasn’t surprised. Few men had the courage to stand up to Ian.
However, that did not mean their journey had been a complete loss. Perhaps they knew where he’d gone.
Their leader, Sion, stood tall and met his master’s questioning gaze.
“No, milord. We didn’t see a sign of the Dragon anywhere. We ran across the Viking, though, a day’s ride from here.”
“Did he have the girl with him?” Llywelyn asked.
“Nay, milord. Must have handed her over already.
You’ll not be troubled with her now,” Sion added with a dismissive shrug.
“But here’s what we did to try to find the Dragon …. ” Llywelyn listened as the man outlined in boring detail every place he’d searched for Ian.
“We even went to his sister’s keep at Ashby, milord,” Sion said.
“They hadn’t seen him there.”
“And how do you know that?” Llywelyn asked.
“Did they allow you inside, give you an opportunity to ask questions, search for information?”
“Nay, milord.
“Tis a Norman keep. Lord Talbot spoke with us at the gate, but he wouldn’t let us in. But he said that he hadn’t seen his brother-by-marriage in months, that the Lady Catrin was ready to slay her brother for ignoring her for so long.”
“That I could believe,” another man put in.
“The bitch would do it, too, given half a chance.”
Llywelyn crossed the room in two strides and knocked the man to the floor.
“Lady Catrin is my cousin, and a noble lady. Watch how you speak of your betters.” Fools!
He returned to his chair and flung himself into it.
“Take your friend out of here before I decide to do worse to him,” he told Sion.
“I’ll speak with you later.” He drank deeply of his wine as the men hurried from the room.
Llywelyn slammed the goblet onto the table in frustration, Where was Ian? And why hadn’t Siwardson returned?
He had hoped the message he’d received from Saint Winifred’s was a mistake, that the Viking and the messenger from Sister Maud had simply missed each other.
Now, however, Siwardson’s absence took on a more ominous tone.
After all the time the Viking had spent at Dolwyddelan, waiting for a decision regarding those damned trade negotiations, he should have returned to the keep by now.
Unless he lay dead somewhere. Given the man’s size and strength, that seemed unlikely.
Had the bastard reneged on their bargain, perhaps traded the girl to someone? The Vikings were known for trafficking in women, and Lily was a beauty.
Or had he sold her to the Dragon?
By Christ, he couldn’t trust anyone.
Not even the Dragon.
Ian had spoiled him. The Dragon had been the most dependable man ever to serve him. At least until Lily arrived at Dolwyddelan.
He poured more wine. He would never have guessed that a woman would prove to be Ian’s downfall.
But sooner or later, his men would run the Dragon to ground.
And when they did, Llywelyn would show him
who was master.
Toad bit at his hand to keep from screaming his rage.
He still didn’t know where the girl was! Evidently Si-ward son had not returned. But Sion might know where the Viking had been taking her. Damnation, why couldn’t Llywelyn keep his temper long enough so that he could learn what he needed to know?
He could go to Sion and ask, but that would likely solve nothing. The days when Llywelyn’s men-at-arms had given Toad what he sought were long past. Sion would probably kick him down the stairs or knock him across the room for dating to approach him. Everyone else did.
His only options seemed to be more eavesdropping outside Llywelyn’s chamber, or finding the Viking and following him about in the hope that he’d lead him to her.
Or perhaps he should head for l’Eau Clair. He had the feeling that the Dragon—and Lily—would find their way to Gillian’s keep eventually.
He’d do it, he decided.
What did he have to lose?
It took a day’s hard riding to reach the village of Llanrhys.
Lily remained virtually silent on this leg of the journey.
Ian welcomed it, for he wasn’t in the mood to discuss his plans–despite the fact that they involved her. The less she knew at this point, the better; he was already amazed that her acquiescence had lasted this long.
He had plenty of opportunity to ponder the course he would take. He’d never thought to marry, but for some reason, the thought of marrying Lily did not bother him—much.
His reservations all centered around the feeling that he was about to do her an enormous disservice. He would gain a lover, a wife, while she stood to lose what she had so recently gained–her freedom.
He only hoped she did not come to regret her decision.
But she didn’t seem hesitant, just quiet. Since it served his purpose, he let her be.
They didn’t arrive in Llanrhys until well after dark. Ian tethered the horse in the trees a distance from the tiny church and led Lily by the hand through the shadowy town.
They entered the church and crossed the sacristy to a door beyond the altar, Ian tapped upon the panels, then waited impatiently until he heard the sound of shuffling feet. The door opened a crack.
“Who is there?”
“Take a look, old man,” Ian said, pushing the door open wide.
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