Marriage Deal With the Outlaw & the Warrior's Damsel in Distress & the Knight's Scarred Maiden : Harlequin Historical August 2017 (9781488021640)

by St. Harper George; Fuller, Meriel; Locke, Nicole

  She wanted to weep.

  * * *

  Alice barely opened her eyes as Bruin laid her back down on the crumpled sheets of her pallet bed. Kneeling on the floor, Eva pulled a sheet and a single blanket over the child, tucking them in around her. The fever had abated; Alice’s skin was cool and dry. Eva patted and fussed with the top of the blanket, unwilling to rise and face Bruin. Panic grew steadily in her throat, a hard, unwieldy lump; her hands shook as she smoothed the creases from Alice’s covers.

  Bruin leaned down and cupped her elbow, lifting her to her feet. ‘The child is settled now, Eva,’ he said firmly. ‘Or should I say my lady? I need to talk to you.’

  Eva’s mind reeled with exhaustion. ‘Now?’ she asked, a forlorn note curling her voice. ‘Can it not wait till morning, at least? I need to sleep, just for a little while.’

  Bruin thought of Steffen, stricken with illness, his urgent need to beg this woman’s forgiveness before he died. A wave of disquiet passed through him. He knew what his brother was capable of; why, he had been the very first witness to his brother’s volatile behaviour. Eva was plainly terrified of him. Unanswered questions clamoured in his brain, rolling in swiftly. How had Steffen known about the birthmark on her shoulder? A birthmark on her naked skin. Had he lain with Eva? His stomach hollowed out. Resentment flashed through him, vicious and brutal, a savage coil of inexplicable jealousy.

  His eyes moved across Eva’s pearly skin, the smooth curve of her cheek, her sweet, tip-tilted nose. Her slender frame drooped, wilting with fatigue. Shadows hollowed out beneath her shimmering blue eyes, thumbprints of violet. Shame flooded over him. His questions could wait. He was behaving like an ogre, as if he were still at sea, looting ships full of precious cargo, slashing his sword at anyone who stood in his way. Her unblemished femininity, her tough vulnerability, had crept beneath his mantle of self-contempt, prising the thick crust upwards. ‘You do need to sleep,’ Bruin agreed. ‘We will talk on the morrow. I will be outside the door if you need me.’

  So I can’t escape, Eva thought, as the door clicked shut behind him and she fell on to the wobbly, creaking bed. She was so tired, she didn’t really care. Her body and mind were numb, devoid of fear, devoid of logic. Tomorrow her brain would be clearer and she would think of a way out of this mess. There was no way Bruin was going to take her back to see Lord Steffen. And that was that.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘Katherine?’ Eva whispered, parting the quilted curtains around the four-poster bed. She had waited long enough to wake her friend. Lying in her truckle bed, anxiety churning in her mind, she had watched the night recede and the glazed windows flood with pale silver, the colour sliding to iridescent gold as the winter sun rose slowly. The scent of lavender, delicious, fragrant, filled her nostrils as she planted her knee on the fur coverlet and crawled over to the sleeping form of her friend. Katherine lay on her side, her blonde head supported by two downy pillows, the blanket edge pulled up to her chin. Her braided hair trailed across the covers, gilt ropes glinting in the shadows.

  ‘You need to wake up,’ Eva whispered urgently.

  Katherine’s eyes opened. ‘What is it?’ Her voice was halting, croaky with sleep. Hitching up against the pillows, she stared at Eva, her expression befuddled. A ray of sunlight streaked through the opening in the curtains, striking Katherine’s pale skin, making her squint. ‘Is it the children?’

  ‘No—well, Alice had a fever in the night, but she’s much better now.’ Eva had checked on the child before waking Katherine. Alice’s skin had been cool; she was sleeping calmly.

  ‘Why did you not wake me?’ Katherine lifted herself higher against the pillows. ‘I would have tended to her.’

  ‘She’s fine.’ Eva pursed her lips. ‘I—we—managed to bring the fever down. She seems a lot better this morning. A few sniffles, that’s all.’

  ‘We?’ Katherine tilted her head, curious. ‘Who helped you?’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Eva’s heart plummeted with the full impact of what she was about to say. She shook her head miserably. ‘Something awful has happened. Lord Bruin helped me with Alice. When I went to fetch water for Alice, he was lying across the door, making sure that we wouldn’t steal away in the night!’ Her voice rose, chest heaving with half-sobs. ‘I couldn’t shake him off, couldn’t get rid of him! He followed me everywhere. And then—then he saw the birthmark on my shoulder—’ Pressing flat palms to her eyes, Eva willed herself to slow her breathing, to stem the rising tide of panic in her chest. ‘He knows who I am.’ She stared bleakly at Katherine. ‘He came with the other knights, but not to fetch you. It was me he was searching for all along—he was sent by Lord Steffen. His brother.’

  ‘Sweet Jesu,’ Katherine cursed. ‘He must have told Lord Bruin about how distinctive the mark is. How on earth did Lord Bruin manage to see it?’

  Eva took a deep, unsteady breath. ‘The back of my nightgown slipped down. When he was carrying Alice back inside.’

  ‘You were outside with him? In your nightgown? Eva, have you taken leave of your senses?’

  Eva rubbed her eyes viciously, driving away the tears. Katherine’s criticism was justified; her behaviour had been inappropriate. ‘Alice’s fever was so high, I was worried for her. All I wanted to do was cool her down, in the fastest way possible. I know I shouldn’t have gone with him, but I had to stay with Alice. If she had awoken and seen him…’ A pair of silver eyes flashed across her vision; her belly dipped, then hollowed curiously, but not with fear.

  ‘I shouldn’t have said anything,’ Katherine interrupted. ‘You did the best thing for my child and for that I thank you. The bad news is that Lord Bruin knows who you are. Has he any idea what his brother did to you?’

  Eva lifted her shoulders, a resigned shrug. ‘I have no idea. I don’t know how close they are. But he probably does, otherwise why else would he do his brother’s bidding? Lord Steffen is ill, apparently, and wants to beg my forgiveness before he leaves this earth. I don’t believe a word of it. I think it’s a trick. He wants me back so he can find out the full extent of the fortune I hid from him. I still have the ruby of Striguil. And that’s what he wants.’

  ‘You cannot go back to that man.’ Katherine released a long, slow gust of air, her manner decisive. She plucked at a speck of lint on the fur cover. ‘You need to escape from here, before Lord Bruin takes you away. Take yourself up into the moorland and the mountains. Vanish.’

  ‘It will be difficult to escape.’ Eva jerked her head towards the door. ‘He’s out there now.’

  Katherine smiled slowly, her brown eyes lighting with optimism. ‘There is always a way, Eva. Remember, I know this castle like my own children’s faces. I will think of something. We can surely stall him for a little while.’

  The strings of panic braced around her chest eased slightly. ‘If I have to run away, it means I cannot come with you and the children to Lord Gilbert’s castle.’

  ‘Come to us later, Eva. When that awful man is dead and you are safe. We will be all right, believe me. Goodness knows what the King has in store for me, probably some crusty old knight who can’t hear properly.’ Eva grimaced. Katherine was deliberately keeping her tone jaunty, light-hearted, despite being ordered around by her powerful relatives. Her situation was as desperate as Eva’s.

  ‘Come on, we need to dress and go down to the great hall to break our fast.’ Through the covers, Katherine nudged Eva with her knee. ‘And there’s no point in you wearing those awful rags any more. Your identity has been discovered. You are the Lady of Striguil and must dress as such. You can wear one of my gowns.’

  * * *

  ‘Well, well, who would have thought it?’ Gilbert said slowly, as he reached out for a crusty bread roll. ‘The little nursemaid turns out to be a noble lady. I would never have guessed.’ He chewed thoughtfully, nodding his thanks to a manservant who was pouring ale
into his empty goblet. He licked his lips greedily as the golden liquid rose to the brim. ‘Are you completely sure she is the woman your brother is looking for?’

  ‘I am,’ Bruin replied, splaying his tanned fingers across the pristine white tablecloth. He had left one of the other knights at Lady Katherine’s door while he had gone back to the guest chamber to wash and then down to the great hall to eat. He still wore his chainmail beneath his surcoat and the iron rivets chafed uncomfortably against his neck. In a moment he would run upstairs and bang on the door of the ladies’ chamber, wake them up if need be. He wanted to travel back to Deorham as soon as possible. As soon as Eva was dressed and had broken her fast.

  And yet an inexplicable reluctance continued to bother him at the thought of taking her back to Steffen, of forcing her to face up to a man of whom she was quite clearly terrified. He ran his fingers up and down the angular stem of his goblet. Questions, doubts, roamed in his head. Why was the chit in this castle, hiding under the wing of Lady Katherine, when she was a rich noblewoman in her own right? And, more importantly, why did he even care? She was nothing to him; he had known her for one day and yet he had known his brother all his life. Despite their fractious relationship, he felt he owed Steffen his last dying wish. All he had to do was escort her there and then he would be on his way.

  ‘God in Heaven!’ Gilbert barked out, spluttering crumbs of bread across the table. ‘Who is that?’

  At the opposite end of the hall, the quilted curtains had parted. At this early hour, only a few people ate at the trestle tables below the dais. Their breath pumped out, white mist in the chill air, as they cleared their plates, chatting idly to each other. The fire in the enormous hearth was newly lit, the flames spitting reluctantly against the chunks of damp wood, doing little to heat the huge cavernous space. Around the fireplace, the air was thick with acrid smoke.

  Lady Katherine moved out from the shadows of the stairwell, her step graceful, elegant. Her tall slim frame seemed to glide across to the top table, her trailing hem catching at the fresh straw spread across the flagstones. Another lady followed, of a more diminutive stature, her dark glossy hair bound by a gold-filigreed net set with pearls. The filaments winked and sparkled in the sunlight that streamed down through the hand-blown glass in the windows.

  ‘My God, it’s Eva,’ Bruin blurted out, recognising her. Shock rattled through him. He gulped at his ale hurriedly, placing the vessel back down on the tablecloth with a thump. Ale splashed down the goblet. If he had thought she was beautiful in the forest, shivering amidst the snowflakes, tears smearing her mud-streaked face, it was nothing compared to the woman walking towards him at that moment. Her gown was of green-patterned velvet, fashioned with low, open sides to the hipline, revealing an underdress of pale green which hugged the curving indent of her waist. Tight-fitting sleeves encased her slim arms, a row of tiny pearl buttons closing the fabric from wrist to elbow. In contrast to Katherine’s gown which gathered up beneath her chin, befitting her status as a wealthy widow, Eva’s neckline was round, simply cut, emphasising the fragile hollow of her throat. A silver circlet, decorated with large hanging pearls, was secured on her head, above the gold net that contained the heavy coil of sable-coloured hair.

  ‘Sweet Jesu,’ murmured Gilbert. ‘What a beauty.’

  Bruin’s tongue moved thickly, cleaving to the roof of his mouth. He took another quick sip of ale, his belly gripped with unravelling desire. What was the matter with him? He had seen many beautiful ladies before; brought up and trained as a knight in King William of Hainault’s household, he had been amongst them at court every day. But there had been no women around him recently: his body numb with grief, he had preferred the hard, uncompromising life on a ship at sea.

  He had been away too long. That was it. How else to explain the way he cleaved towards Eva as if he were beneath a spell. He itched to touch her, gripped with longing, poised to take, to lay her on the ground and wrap his muscled limbs around hers. To sink into her. His mind darkened; nay, he was not like that, not some marauding bastard to rape and pillage without a by-your-leave. He would do well to keep his feelings under control, for both of their sakes.

  ‘I bid you good day, my lords.’ Katherine threw a terse smile towards the two knights as she slid into the high-backed chair beside Gilbert. Her flaring silk skirts rustled against the arm of the chair. The men rose in unison, bowing formally; she flapped her hand impatiently at them, indicating they should sit back down. Smoothing her ruffled gown over her knees, she turned her large brown eyes on Bruin. ‘I hear that you were very helpful with my daughter last night?’

  Slipping next to Katherine, as far away from Bruin as she could possibly manage without it appearing rude, Eva bent her head over her plate, the shining pewter blurring before her eyes. A maidservant set an oval dish of meat pottage down on the table, her arm inadvertently brushing against Eva’s shoulder; a bolt of fear rushed through her. Steam rose from the pottage as panic stirred her veins, but she clamped the feeling down, refusing to allow it to take hold, to take over. Terror would rob her mind of cool, thinking logic, the ability to work her way out of this mess. For the moment, she must pretend to submit meekly to Bruin’s plans, so he would not suspect her plot to escape.

  Dragging his eyes from Eva’s downcast demeanour, the smooth cheek dipping down to the plush corner of her delectable mouth, Bruin forced himself to look at Katherine, to acknowledge her previous comment. ‘Aye, your child was burning up; I carried her outside.’

  ‘It seems to have worked.’ Katherine smiled graciously. ‘She is much better this morning.’ A manservant walking along behind the row of chairs with an earthenware jug leaned over and filled her goblet with ale. The smell of malted barley scented the air, mingling with the smoke from the fire.

  ‘I’m glad of it,’ Bruin replied, his voice hardening. ‘No doubt Lady Eva has told you what else happened last night?’

  A small frown pleated the skin between Katherine’s pale eyebrows. She nodded carefully in response. Sitting between the two of them, Gilbert, his spoon poised before his mouth, eyed them both with a puzzled expression.

  ‘You have known of Lady Eva’s identity all this time?’ Bruin’s eyes shifted across Katherine’s face with a flinty, challenging stare. Hearing the iron determination in his voice, Eva hunkered down further in her seat, trying to make herself smaller, invisible almost. Perspiration gathered in her armpits.

  Katherine tipped up her chin, a swift, delicate movement, her fawn eyes widening with a flicker of hostility. ‘I did. What of it?’

  ‘Only that you lied to me when I asked you of her whereabouts. As the King’s niece, I would have expected you to be honest with me.’

  ‘You are a stranger. I was protecting her.’ She shrugged her shoulders, playing with the stem of her goblet. The sapphire in her heavy silver ring sparked out like blue fire.

  ‘Why?’ Bruin shot back. ‘What are you protecting Lady Eva from?’

  ‘I do believe that it’s none of your concern,’ Katherine replied coolly. She laid her palm flat against the hollow of her throat, an unconscious gesture of defence. Her other arm slid over her belly, as if she were guarding her body from his incisive gaze.

  Caught between the two of them, Gilbert cleared his throat ceremoniously. ‘Er… Bruin, I think…’

  ‘It is my concern. I suppose she’s told you that I intend to take her to see my brother? It looks to me like you have been hiding her, for some time it would seem. I want to know why. Is it to do with Lord Steffen?’ Bruin’s eyes were pinned to Katherine’s face. She fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat, plucking at a stray thread on the lap of her gown, small teeth worrying at her bottom lip. Glancing sideways, Eva saw the despair flashing across Katherine’s features, her unwillingness to reveal her friend’s secrets.

  ‘No, please, stop this!’ Eva jumped up, wincing as her hip knocked painfully agains
t the edge of the table. ‘Stop bullying her! Katherine does not deserve your scolding.’ Her eyes, the colour of a turquoise sea, shimmered with anger. ‘She has enough to deal with without having to answer countless questions about me. She has done everything in her power to keep my identity hidden, and now you’ve come along—’ Eva spluttered to a halt, searching for the correct words.

  ‘—and spoiled your little game,’ Bruin finished for her. His silver gaze glittered over her, fierce and intimidating.

  ‘How dare you!’ Incensed by his mocking tone, Eva thumped her fist down on to the table. Her goblet, the loose cutlery, all shook and rattled with the forceful vibration of the movement. If she had been any nearer, she would have smacked his smug, self-confident chin with the flat of her hand. ‘A game? Is that what you think this is? So it’s a game when I dress in rags every day and go about my tasks as a servant of Lady Katherine. You think I do that for my own enjoyment?’ Her voice rose steadily, tremulously, driven on by flaring rage. Half-turning in her seat, Katherine laid a comforting hand on her arm. A warning. Gilbert’s mouth adopted a hanging slackness, his eyes bulged out of his pudgy face, a dull ruddy colour suffusing his fleshy cheeks. Bruin sprawled back against the chair back, big shoulders wedged against the carved wood, his eyes intent on her face, their pewter depths predatory, expectant.

  ‘Oh, dear Lord, you have no idea, do you?’ Eva said, almost spitting the words out. ‘You sit there, calmly asking questions with that sneering look upon your face, and yet you have no idea. What sort of man your brother really is.’ Her blood pulsed hotly in her veins, drumming hard in her ears; anger controlled her now, whipped up by Bruin’s mocking stare. She wanted to wipe that scornful look from his face, his arrogant expression. He thought he knew it all, and yet he knew nothing at all. Hysteria bubbled in her chest, a whirlpool gathering strength, fuelled by temper, caution scattered, tossed chaotically like fine seed from a peasant’s hand. The tiny voice in her head that told her to tread carefully, to hold back, vanished completely.