by Imogene Nix
If he’d been on his own, without Elspeth, he and his men would have traveled faster and longer each day, racing the horses against the clock. But she was a lady. Unused to long days in the saddle and the privations of this kind of travel. His mind told him he was underestimating her, but he ignored that.
He exhaled slowly, calculating in his head how to make their location as fortified as they could. Then he stood, stretching.
“I’ll have to ask Elspeth what’s wrong later,” he muttered to himself.
Seeds of disquiet took root in his mind. What if there was more to her incomprehensible behavior? What if it was more than just tiredness and irritability? He shied away from those thoughts. That path led to the dreaded range of female issues that occurred monthly, from what his married friends had suggested in the past. Something he’d gladly laughed off as not of concern to him.
He strode toward the camp, checking his men’s preparations for the coming night. They had set up a tent for himself and his wife as well as the one Grundy would share with the provisions. The rest of the men had fanned their bedrolls out in formation. He stopped, sharing a quick word with this man then another. He made his way calmly through the camp, checking to make sure everything was in order.
In the distance, several men hobbled the horses. The men would watch them through the night, checking for snakes and bugs and anything more sinister that might upset them. His own horse and Elspeth’s would be kept apart. They were too valuable to risk. Besides which, Devil’s Chaos seemed to settle better closer to him.
Grundy headed in his direction, his gaze flicking from side to side. “I’ve got your horse tethered to your tent, sir. The mistress’s horse, silly thing it is, is tied to the other one. She’s a tad too skittish to just hobble, according to the captain.”
“That’s to be expected.” Aeddan frowned though at Grundy’s words. She was perfect for such a trek, however, they hadn’t had time to prepare her for nights in the open. He disliked having to act in haste, and this was a prime example of why.
He looked at Sana and Devil’s Chaos, their heads in the feedbags as they chewed their rations. His own stomach growled, reminding him of the long hours since they’d last eaten. He turned on the heel of his boot and headed in the direction of the makeshift kitchen.
“Sahib, I have made a stew, but the meats...” His cook shrugged his thin shoulders.
For a moment Aeddan searched the coffee-colored man’s face. It was as open as usual, and the tension in his muscles relaxed. “Yes. We will be able to purchase fresh at our next town.”
They carried only the basics, in an attempt to travel as lightly as possible, but along the way there would be some overnight camps. Usually they didn’t cause him too many headaches. This wasn’t one of them though.
“Sahib, the meal will be ready soon, if you wish...” The man’s words died away, and Aeddan gave a slight nod, making sure that the cook received the message. He would alert Elspeth.
The aroma of food wafted on the air as he lifted the flap of his own tent. The one he shared with his wife. Elspeth sat stiffly on the bedroll, tugging at her boots, the skin of her face red and tight.
“Let me help you.”
She lifted her eyes as she clearly spoke. “No, thank you. I’m sure I can manage.”
For a moment he searched her face, but she glanced away from him as the boot flew free, flying through the air to land at his feet. She humped and stood, reaching for the offending leather. He was there first, and scooped it up.
“Thank you.” The words were waspish as she grabbed the shoe from his grasp then turned away. “I would like to change if you’d...”
“Elspeth...”
She didn’t turn at his word though; her back remained his answer, and he wanted to sigh and ask what he’d done. There’ll be no answer here right now. So instead, he kept his distance. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
She nodded stiffly but didn’t answer.
At a complete loss, he took one last look at the set of her back and shrugged. “I’ll leave you alone then,” he said before retreating through the tent flap.
Chapter 14
Elspeth tossed and turned fitfully. Aeddan had joined her long after she’d retreated from the circle around which he and his men sat. She’d chosen the coward’s route, pretending to sleep, though she was fairly sure he realized she was awake.
Watching the sway of the canvas through nearly closed lids, she remembered the looks he’d cast at her all night, but the turmoil in her mind was too great. Leaving their tent and sitting where he indicated, she’d avoided his gaze as much as she could. The anger and regret picked at her brain like one of the many birds of prey feeding on a dead carcass she’d seen along the trek. She’d barely made it through dinner, her stomach a roiling mass, before she excused herself.
In the cool of the night, she reflected on what she knew. He’d married her to keep her safe. That she could understand, but the subterfuge? The ruse of finding her attractive—making her think he craved her touch! The way he’d held her, and done a whole lot more each and every night! That went against everything she’d wanted in a husband. The fact he’d done it for the queen and the empire made no difference in her mind. He’d lied. He’d bedded her for his country but pretended he’d wanted only her.
Clasping her hand over her mouth, she swallowed the cry of pain that rose in her throat. She wouldn’t let him know. Couldn’t. All that was left was her pride, and she’d guard that zealously. Elspeth refused to consider that denying him the intimacy they’d shared every night since their marriage, even since they’d started this trek, was telling.
She had to face the truth. She had a husband whose body she ached to share, but he didn’t feel the same. The fact was he engaged far more than just her body. He’d somehow stolen his way into her very soul.
Did she love him? That she couldn’t answer, but she could truthfully say she desired him. Wanted him. Craved his touch.
She found herself replaying his words in her mind. “I’m a spy.”
He’d married her because Lytton had commanded it, just as he’d commanded he keep her safe from harm. A hysterical thought bloomed: did that mean keeping her safe from the negative spiral of emotions? She shushed the thought.
Tears burned at the back of her eyes. In her mind, she’d built up her expectations. Of all the dreams she’d ruthlessly suppressed in the past, the ones that had been of a husband and children of her own were the most fragile, for they included the setting up of her own home with a man she could love and trust.
He’d smashed through the walls she’d erected over the years, those built of loneliness and the loss of hope, with his kisses and caresses. She’d been too damned gullible to realize it was all a practiced ruse.
Her pride ached at the massive blow it had taken. Had they also been part of his plan? Or did he feel some modicum of need for her? “Don’t think that, Elspeth.” But the whispered words didn’t help.
“Elspeth?”
She gave an almost silent moan and held still, hoping he’d not push.
Outside she heard movement and the dull murmur of men going about their duties. The soft, shuffling of feet while the pole in the middle of the tent shuddered as it had many times during the night. She knew Devil’s Chaos was tied to the pole, where he felt most comfortable. Sana would be tethered to Grundy’s tent. Aeddan had explained that she had not formed enough of a partnership with her rider to be safely hobbled with the other horses, and besides she was too valuable to be with them.
“Sahib!” The call went out, muffled from outside. It was enough to have him moving instantly.
Already Aeddan was sitting upright, reaching under the roll that served as a pillow. She too sat upright, her heart pounding madly.
Aeddan pressed a heavy pistol into her hands while hauling on a jacket. “Stay here. If anyone but me or Grundy enters, shoot them.”
His face was grim, determined in the light of the tiny lantern whic
h hung from the tent pole. It swayed back and forth in time with the shuddering movements from outside. Probably Devil’s Chaos trying to escape the melee.
The flap of the tent closed behind him, well before she could break from the trance.
Her stomach roiled as she heard the sound of screaming horses, grunts, and thuds. Here and there silhouettes danced across the canvas of the tent, and she shuddered. There were men out there. Men determined to hurt them.
Why? Were these the men Aeddan worried about? Or were they simply opportunistic and starving?
Before her startled gaze, a hand thrust within, and though she trembled with fear, Elspeth held the pistol ready. Her hands shook. Aeddan had given instructions, and she would follow them through. The coffee-colored skin retreated, and she perspired heavily. It trickled down her back in a chilled trail as a sense of helplessness assailed her.
A last cry filled the air, and she waited with her fingers cramped on the cold metal of the butt, only the wood bore any heat from her grasp. The sweat dried and chilled against her skin, making her shiver.
Once more the flap moved, and this time a pale hand preceded a body. Aeddan. She quivered and shook.
“You’re fine?” His rasped words joined with the tight planes of his face as he glanced around.
Barely capable of speech, Elspeth nodded.
The exhalation was deep, and for an instant he closed his eyes. “Good. I have to go help clear away the mess. Stay here. Grundy is just outside if you need anything.”
Then he was gone, and she was alone.
* * * *
Aeddan breathed deeply. Letting go of his storming emotions was so much harder than he’d anticipated. Pressure had built up in his muscles, and now that dissipated, lightness filling his mind. His limbs felt liquid, and his wits scattered like a dry wind as he tried to corral his emotions.
“She’s okay. They didn’t see her or get to her, Major.”
Grundy laid a hand on his shoulder as Aeddan ran an unsteady palm over his whisker-covered chin. Aeddan stared forward, watching as his men cleaned away the signs of the brief yet bitter skirmish. A few of his men had sustained injuries, though thankfully, none of them serious enough to warrant slowing down their travel.
Two of the attackers were on the ground. Dead. His men would deal with the bodies once they had attended to their own needs.
“But she was in danger.” The words hung there between him and his batman. There really wasn’t anything else to say, was there? Bitterness swept through him. He’d brought her into danger, and now he regretted it.
“You protected her.”
The well of anger swelled deep within his chest, a seething mass of emotions, all black and oily. “I should have sent her home.”
“She wouldn’t have gone. She’s not that kind of woman, and you know it.”
He closed his eyes, accepting the truth of Grundy’s words. “No, she wouldn’t.” He couldn’t do a damned thing about that. It did, however, clarify one thing in his mind. “Keep watch.”
Then, leaving Grundy in the sparse light of the campfires, he spun on his heel, heading to the tent. He flicked the flap open and entered.
Elspeth remained where he had left her, huddled on the bed. Her face bone white, her hands clenched into one single fist in her lap. She watched him as he advanced.
“I shouldn’t have left, but I had things to attend to.”
She nodded without a word, and the lump in his throat grew. He should have addressed why she had refused to talk to him earlier. That silence had been bad enough, but now, facing his own mortality, and hers too, had propelled him forward. He needed to breach whatever gap was between them. She could have died with this nebulous chasm between them, and that was untenable.
“I’m sorry for earlier.” She spoke hesitantly, and he frowned.
“Why?” The need to know why she’d withdrawn ate at him, as much as the knowledge that she was once more safe. For now, his mind added.
“Because it was childish of me.” She lifted her chin, and it wobbled slightly. Her eyes shone in the half-light, glittering as one tiny diamond of water trembled on her eyelashes. It wavered then dropped, tracing its way down her porcelain skin.
That drip tore through his chest like a knife through butter. He couldn’t contain himself as he reached out, cupping her cheek. He rubbed his thumb over her flesh, wiping away the tear, unable to ignore her pain.
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.”
He smiled at the disgusted tone of her voice, but that melted away as she sniffled. “Earlier... You were angry.”
She turned away, and it gutted him. He wanted to comfort her, but whatever it was, she didn’t want the support he could offer.
“Tell me.”
She shook her head, and not for the first time, he was conscious that she wore little more than a light shift, her hair tied back in a tight plait. Emotion welled again, lust and hunger combining as he caught sight of the berry-colored nipples through the fine white material. His body stirred to life.
“I can’t...” She sighed, dashing at the tears with one ruthless tug.
“Tell me, Elspeth.”
She hunched forward as if trying to stop the damage each quiet request made on her armor. “I don’t want to.”
“Please, Elspeth. I just want to help you, but I’m not sure how to do that without hurting you.”
She snuffled harder, but this time she looked around at him, misery showing on her features. She moved, clutching at herself. “You... You already have.” Her wet face glistened in the lamplight.
Confusion flooded him. “What? How?”
“You married me.”
What?
Before he could speak, she continued. “I never expected to have a husband. It was so far from my expectations. Then you came along…” Her words trailed away. “You gave me hope, then took it away.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?” He wanted to scoff at her words, but they were heartfelt, he could tell. The way she had hunched forward and wrapped her arms around her stomach while her eyes were wounded pools of misery. His heart clenched, and he shuddered. What have I done to cause this?
“You said... You stated that it was part of your role as a spy. That you married me under...under Lytton’s command.” Her husky voice tore at him.
“What? No! No, I didn’t.” But his mind stilled at her words.
“Yes, you did. Lytton told you to keep me safe, you said.”
He shook his head, reaching out for her. She shied away, but he caught her against him. “No. No, Elspeth. That wasn’t how it was.”
Her tears soaked his jacket while the convulsive shudders told him of her deep pain. Regret pierced him.
“I married you because I wanted to. I desire you. Hunger for you. I’ve had to protect many others during my time as a spy. I never married any of the women. Please, believe me.”
She raised her face to his. “But how can I believe that?”
“Because I’ve never felt this with anyone else.” Then he kissed her.
Chapter 15
The touch of Aeddan’s lips on hers was magical. It stole her senses and filled her with the buzz of sensuality. For a moment Elspeth accepted the pleasure that spiked wildly, before the hurt caught her up. Worried her with its sharp teeth.
Spreading her fingers, she pushed against him. Away. Back. “No.” She shuddered under the aftershocks.
His eyes, still passion-glazed, stared deep into hers, as if questioning her actions. “Elspeth...”
“This means nothing more than you hunger for my body.” She couldn’t—wouldn’t—give in to that. The pain cut too deeply. Her knees shook under her fine shift, and she hoped he didn’t notice the movement. “It’s not enough. I won’t let you hurt me. I can’t.” She panted, trying to hold her pain at bay.
“Elspeth... I...”
She shied away, hoping he wouldn’t push. She wasn’t sure she could manage i
f he prodded the tightly bound jumble of painful emotions. “Please, Aeddan...”
Even she wasn’t exactly sure what she was asking for. All she knew was what they had couldn’t sustain her. Wasn’t enough to fill the emptiness in her soul.
“Elspeth, I didn’t...” His hands descended on her shoulders, not letting her move out of his grip. She tugged, but his fingers dug deep. “Listen to me. I didn’t marry you just because Lytton ordered me to.” His voice shook as if he could barely restrain his emotions.
The slow thud of her chest began to speed up. “What?”
With careful moves, he turned her.
She didn’t want to look. What if this isn’t real? Oh, but how her heart yearned.
“Elspeth, I’ve never lied to you. I may have withheld some truths, which I deeply regret, but never have I lied. Lytton didn’t force me to marry you.”
She held her breath. “What... What does that mean then?” What more could there be? What else hasn’t he told me?
He grimaced. “I really don’t know.” He whipped his head away, and she got the impression he was almost as lost as she was. But when he turned back to her, his face was calm. Composed. “I feel something for you. More than just this…this desire. I won’t promise you anything I’m unsure of, because that would be cruel. I’ll give you what I have though, including loyalty and monogamy. I promise to be honest with you, but I won’t live a lie and pretend an emotion I don’t feel.”
She needed more, but all she could do for the moment was settle. How that burned her soul.
Elspeth gave a short nod. “Then that is where it must rest for the moment. Thank you for your honesty.”
He grimaced again then raised a hand to cup her face. Instinctively, she covered his hand with her own, touching his skin briefly before she broke the contact. She drew away from him. Right now all she had left was her dignity and scraps of an emotion she refused to explore any deeper. She wouldn’t jeopardize what small shred of herself she had left.