Lord of Legend

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Lord of Legend Page 14

by Charlene Cross


  Viewing him closely, she thought he was different. Physically he was the same—virile, handsome, sexually appealing—but beyond the familiar exterior, he was a changed man. He seemed far less arrogant and far less absorbed in himself. Worry showed on his face, and Felicia felt certain the Lady Lochlaigh was the cause of his concern. “Truly, darling, you are most occupied,” she said, her eyes again skipping toward the bed. “That much I can see. When you are through playing nursemaid, you may find me in my room.” She paused. “Or better still, in yours.”

  Belatedly, Aleck remembered, their parting words—that she was to await him in his bed, nude and ready. He firmly wished they had never been said. “When I have finished seeing to my ward, I shall come to your room, Felicia. Then we will talk.” From the corner of his eye, he saw movement along the corridor. Short and round, a white cap covering her graying hair, his steward’s wife—Winnie, as she was called—hurried toward his room in her usual rolling gait.

  “My Felix said you wanted to see me, Master Aleck,” she said.

  Her familiar address did not offend the earl, for she’d referred to him as “Master Aleck” since he was a toddler. “Aye, Winnie. The Lady Lochlaigh seems to have taken a fever. I need you to attend her.” His arm fell to his side, allowing Winnie passage. After she’d entered, his hand returned to the stones. “I shall pay a call on you later,” he said to Felicia.

  “As you wish,” she said stiffly, then turned and headed toward her room.

  Aleck watched the provocative sway of her hips as they undulated beneath her shift and flimsy wrapper. “Felicia,” he called, annoyed by the artful maneuver, for he knew she attempted to seduce him. She pivoted his way. “Make certain you are fully clothed. Although my visit will be brief, a lady never receives a gentleman unless properly dressed.”

  Felicia spun on her heel and marched the few remaining steps to her room. The door banged shut, the noise resounding through the upper corridor. Shaking his head, Aleck wondered why he’d ever taken up with volatile Lady Emory in the first place. She’d acted in a fairly restrained manner, but he knew by the set of her jaw and the calculating look in her eyes as they’d focused upon his ward that his former mistress—a decision he’d made on seeing Felicia again—had already devised several ways to fell Chandra. Incredibly, she didn’t even know the girl. Yet Felicia was territorial—viciously so. He’d not let Chandra suffer the woman’s maliciousness, not after all she’d borne already.

  Another thing bothered Aleck, and had done so since the moment it had happened. He was certain, through cunning, she’d planned to trap him into marriage by becoming pregnant. It was not done because she loved him, desiring him alone, for Aleck was aware that Felicia loved only herself. No, it was done because she coveted his money and his title, which, Felicia knew, would afford his wife a great deal of power. Foolishly, he’d almost been caught in her deceitful web, insidious spider that she was. Knowing she wasn’t to be trusted ever again, Aleck was determined to end the affair. He intended to tell her shortly, but he suspected she already knew.

  Turning away from the door, he saw Winnie fussing over Chandra. “She’s terribly flushed, Master Aleck,” she said as he came to her side. “But the fever is not too high.” She patted the girl’s cheeks. “Wake up, child, and give old Winnie a look-see.” Chandra’s eyelids fluttered open. Briefly she stared at the woman, then her eyes fell closed. “Her mind’s a ways off,” Winnie commented, “and apparently she’s happy that it is. What happened to the poor thing to make her so?”

  Under Winnie’s stern frown, Aleck related many of the events of the past two days, but not all. Conveniently he kept his vain, self-proscribed attack on Chandra to himself. But he knew that Winnie was not fooled.

  “Aye, as you say,” she stated, inspecting him closely. Then she turned her gaze on the flame-haired girl who looked like a waif. “Poor lost soul, she’s suffered a terrible shock. She’s exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally—no thanks to you. Let’s hope a long sleep is all she needs. Take yourself out of here so I can undress her and give her a quick wash. If you behave, you can return when I’m done.”

  “Whatever you say, Mistress Marlowe.” He bestowed on her a dazzling smile. As usual, she was unmoved by his appealing manner; Winnie was wise to him. “First I must, speak to the Lady Emory, then you may find me in my room. Alone,” he added, spying her censuring look. Aleck took himself to the door. “Give her the best of care, Winnie, as only you can do.” She seemed not to hear him, for like a mother hen, she was already clucking and cooing at the bedraggled little chick given into her keeping. The door closed behind him.

  Aleck approached Felicia’s room. When she answered his light knock, he was surprised to see her appropriately dressed. For some reason, perhaps because he knew her temperament well, he had expected defiance. But there appeared to be none as she politely invited him into her room.

  “What needs to be said, Felicia, will take only a moment. It can be done here in the hall just as easily. On the morrow, the king’s men will be returning to London. You’ll be accompanying them.”

  Felicia studied him closely. “When you left here, you seemed quite eager to return to my arms. Something must have happened for you to want to be rid of me so quickly. An explanation would be welcome.”

  “Things are not the same as they were, Felicia. At least, not for me. What we had together was an enjoyable interlude. You know, as do I, that sooner or later it was bound to end. We sought pleasure in each other, and neither of us was disappointed. But now, it is over. I hope we might part as friends.”

  Through shuttered eyes, Felicia studied him for a long moment. All her plans lay shattered. She should have insisted on going with him. But then, she wondered if doing so would have made a difference. “The girl—do you fancy yourself in love with her?” Her throaty laughter filled Aleck’s ears. “If so, darling, pray she is nothing like Elinor. You’re too passionate a man to suffer yet another frigid bride.” Boldly her hand met his chest; her palm edged downward over the smooth leather to his waist, then lower. “Too passionate by far.”

  Aleck caught the intrusive hand. “And too wise to fall for your artifices, Felicia. We both know why you are so eager to share my bed. When it is time for me to produce an heir, the babe’s mother will be of high morals and will possess a more tender nature than yours, darling.” He tossed the word at her with vigor, for he’d always despised its use. Simultaneously, he threw her hand away from him. “As for the Lady Lochlaigh, I am responsible for her care, nothing more. I suggest you attend to your packing. Dawn is not that far off.” He stepped back from her door. “Farewell, Felicia. If it gives you any ease, I’m certain you will not be alone for long.”

  The door slammed forcefully in his face, and on a low laugh, Aleck headed toward his own room. Ordering up a hot bath, he paced the floor until Marlowe and several other servants arrived. After giving his master a quick shave, the steward left with the Earl of Montbourne’s soiled clothing held in front of him.

  On a sigh, Aleck finally settled into the steaming tub where he relaxed his body, but not his mind. For a long while, he pondered what to do about his ward. When the water had cooled, he dried off, dressed and fell upon his bed to gaze at its broad canopy. His arm flung above his head, he absentmindedly traced the depressions in the headboard outlining the Montbourne crest. Should he send her home or keep her here? And James—what would be his reaction? Aleck was certain he’d be given permanent residence in the Tower. What a boggle it all was. Admittedly he’d blundered, and there seemed no viable way to right it. Fool, he called himself, knowing all too well where to place the blame.

  A knock sounded on his door, breaking into his thoughts. “Come.” Winnie’s head peeked around the door. “I’m alone,” he reassured her, and she entered the room.

  “She’s sleeping peacefully,” the woman told him. “I managed to get some broth down her, but only a bit. By tomorrow, I’m certain she’ll be far better.”

>   Aleck saw that she studied him. Although freshly bathed, he still felt fatigued. Apparently Winnie noticed such.

  “You’d best be getting yourself something to eat and some rest ’fore you end up sick. The food you ordered is being set on the tables now.”

  Aleck rose from the bed. Shoving his feet into his shoes, he looked over his shoulder at the woman. “Have a tray sent up to the Lady Lochlaigh’s room. I’ll be in there.”

  “Aye, I’ll do that.” She turned to leave.

  “Oh, and Winnie, the Lady Emory will be departing with Sir John at dawn. Send a servant girl to help with her packing. When the knight has finished his meal, tell him I wish to speak with him. Again—”

  “You’ll be in the Lady Lochlaigh’s room,” she finished for him. “She’s a pretty little thing—fresh and innocent. A sight better than the tarnished harpy that’s been traipsing the halls around here of late.” Before Aleck could respond, the door thumped to.

  Winnie and Felicia must have had words while he was gone, he decided, which was not surprising, for both women were headstrong. It was just another reason that Felicia should be on her way.

  Aleck crossed the room to the connecting door leading into Chandra’s chamber, an apartment meant for the next Countess of Montbourne. The last woman to occupy the room had been Aleck’s mother, for his own bride had refused to do so. Elinor had insisted on a bedchamber far from his own and had kept herself within its four walls until the day she’d died. As he thought about it, he was amazed that he’d ordered the room readied for his ward.

  Slipping quietly through the door, Aleck looked at the small creature lying in the center of the huge bed. Her long hair, brushed and shining like polished copper, spread over the white linen pillow cover. Her face and hands, washed and glowing a soft pink, peeked from the voluminous gown that hid her body. He could only assume the nightdress belonged to Winnie. One hand was laxly tossed upward, lying not far from her head, the other rested on her stomach where the blankets met her waist. She resembled a small child lost in slumber and having not a care in the world.

  He crept toward the chair nearest the bed and sat down. Agony filled his heart as he gazed at his ward, for when she awakened so would her sorrow. “Ah, sweet, if I could change it I would,” he whispered. Then he rested his head against the chair’s back. In silence he watched her. How long he stayed thus, he didn’t know, but finally a light rap sounded on the door. Answering it, he saw Winnie, his dinner in hand. Averse to disturbing his ward as he ate, he instructed that his meal be taken to his room. Winnie would stay with Chandra until he’d finished.

  Because he’d eaten little over the past two days, Aleck thought he’d be ravenous, but he did no more than pick at his food. Shoving the tray to one side of the large writing desk where he sat, he gathered quill, ink, and parchment from the drawer. It was time he composed a letter to James. What the hell would he tell his sovereign? That he’d botched his assigned task? There was no doubt he had. A cynical laugh erupted from his lips as the letter was quickly written in his mind.

  Dearest Majesty:

  In the space of fewer than three weeks, I have assaulted the Lady Lochlaigh, killed her cousin, abducted the girl, and used her as a shield while your trusted soldiers and I fled the Highlands, the clan Morgan pursuing us until we had the good fortune to run into the hundred men you sent north to give us further strength. I might add they arrived not a minute too soon. We are now at Montbourne Castle. On the more positive side, I did manage to save my ward’s life. After her attempt to skewer me with her dirk had failed, she tried to cast herself off the battlement, but I prevented such, holding her until she at last fainted from the horror she had suffered over the past two days. Of course, it goes without saying that the Lady Lochlaigh is now paralyzed with grief and has taken a fever. Should she survive, I am certain she will be requesting a new guardian. Given the circumstances, I cannot fault her. Perhaps, in your benevolent wisdom, you have some suggestions on how I might undo the muddle I have made of things. I eagerly await your response.

  Your obedient servant, Montbourne.

  That should fairly well cover it, Aleck thought, not yet having put pen to paper. When he did, his message was brief.

  Sire:

  The Lady Lochlaigh and I are now at Montbourne Castle. Sir John will supply the details of our journey and the happenings that precipitated our leaving Scotland.

  Your obedient servant, Montbourne.

  Coward, he accused himself. A fist met the wood panel that secured his room. “Come.”

  Sir John entered the chamber. “You asked to see me?”

  “I did.” Dribbling candle wax on the folded parchment, Aleck pressed his signet ring into the seal. “When you leave on the morrow, Sir John, the Lady Emory will be accompanying you to London. This,” he said, handing the letter to the knight, “goes to our sovereign. Should James have any questions, which I’m certain he will, please explain the events that foreran our sudden departure.”

  The knight turned the letter over in his hand. “The girl—what do you plan to do with her?”

  “Not surprisingly, she has taken ill. She will stay here until she has recovered. At that time, I shall decide what to do with her. Unless, of course, our king makes the decision for me. He may appoint someone else as her overlord—something I wish he had done from the start. Things might have ended differently if he had.”

  “If I am to supply the details, shouldn’t I know exactly how the young man died?”

  Aleck hesitated, but then he relented and explained how he and Cedric were about to face off, how Chandra had tried to stop the impending fight, and how Devin, fearing his cousin would be injured, had cast himself between the two men.

  “Why was the Highlander so eager to draw your blood? Is there something else I should know—that James should know?”

  “’Tis not important why it happened,” Aleck said. “Her cousin is dead, and slain by my own hand. ’Twas a mischance, an accident, but the Lady Lochlaigh believes otherwise. I cannot blame her. Her hatred of me is understandable.”

  “It may not give you much ease, but know that the lad caused his own death. Had he kept from between you both, he would still be alive.”

  “Aye … maybe.” Aleck’s fingers raked through his hair. “In truth, Sir John, my temper caused the man’s death. Nothing you say will excuse it.” He noticed the knight’s questioning stare. “I am weary of thinking about it. Tell James I shall be at Montbourne until I hear from him. I wish our parting were under more favorable conditions. You have served me and our sovereign well. I hope we meet again.”

  Sir John extended his hand; Aleck took it. “I hope, sir, that all ends well for you,” the knight said. “Perhaps we’ll soon see each other at court.”

  “I doubt I shall find myself at court anytime soon. Not unless James orders me to London. No, I am happy here at Montbourne and this is where I plan to stay.” Their hands unclasped, and the two bade each other farewell. Just as the knight reached the door, Aleck called: “Take care, Sir John, that the Lady Emory does not make your journey an unpleasant one. She is in ill humor, and knowing her as I do, I’m certain she’ll attempt to make everyone suffer because of it.”

  “Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep far from her, as will the others.”

  The knight left, and Aleck returned to Chandra’s room. Winnie sat in the chair he’d vacated earlier. “I’ll sit with her,” he whispered.

  “You could do with some rest yourself,” she said, slowly rising from the chair. “But if you insist on staying with her, I’ll not argue with you. Call me if you need me.”

  Aleck watched the woman as she left the room, then folded himself into the chair. Endlessly he gazed at Chandra. Except for her whispered breath and his own, silence cloaked the room. Forcing his mind to remain vacant of thought, he stayed in that one position for hours. Just before sunrise, his eyelids drooped; Aleck dozed.

  Chandra stirred. In the last remnants of her dream
s, Lochlaigh Castle sat on a distant hill; a hawk soared above its towers. After several sweeps, the great bird flew away. Then all went black.

  Slowly she awakened. Her eyes opened, and a frown crept across her brow as she stared at her surroundings. Confusion gripped her, for she could not fathom where she was or how she’d gotten there. A soft snore met her ears, and she turned her head to locate its source. There in the chair a dozen feet from her sat her guardian. Memories welled, then flooded through her, especially those of the previous night. Why, she wondered, had he saved her?

  A searing anguish filled her anew. With all her being, she’d wanted to avenge Devin’s death—an eye for an eye. By slaying his murderer, she’d hoped to lessen her guilt, her pain. But her courage had failed her. Faced with her unbearable heartache, her own cowardice, she’d tried to throw herself from the battlement, ending her accursed existence, but her guardian had prevented her from finding the relief she sought. Because he had, she was again made to suffer from her grief, the weight of it hanging like a heavy stone in her chest. Was that why he guarded her now? So that she would not attempt another plunge to the ground, this time from the window, ending her misery? Undoubtedly he thought it was a fitting punishment for her disobedience. He was cruel to make her suffer so.

  Then again, perhaps he simply feared she might attempt another escape. In spite of the pain she carried, Chandra vowed she’d never act as foolishly as she had the night before. Life was far too precious. Devin would have loathed knowing that she’d tried to end her own. But escape Montbourne? That was a genuine possibility. Given the opportunity, she’d do precisely that—flee!

 

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