“Not many are lucky enough to find love. But you did,” Beaufort said. “Yet you were eager to throw it all away—out of sheer stubbornness. A more pigheaded man I have yet to meet, save myself. And your brother, Dominic, and your sire. Your whole family for all I know. Suffering the same affliction, and as your friend, I felt it my duty to do something about it.”
“I was looking for the ransom, so you wouldn’t have to give up the Lady Isabeau,” Will piped up, finding his voice again, though a little breathless and squeaky. “And I found it!” His voice rose to a squawk, “Stashed under a flat stone amongst some bracken by the river! All would have been well had Barak not found me the moment I laid hands on it.”
“He must have been out there watching and waiting the whole time. Brazen villain!” Beaufort expelled.
“He sent word to the Lady Isabeau that he’d kill me if she did not surrender herself,” Will said.
“Sent word? With who?”
“One of the washer maids.”
“And now he has her.” Alec expelled a curse. Those two half-wits would be the death of him. “How could she be so fool-hearty?”
“She wasn’t, my Lord,” Will gushed forth, eager to come to her defense. “She positioned a man-at-arms in the bracken by the river, but his stealth was no match for Barak’s hell hounds. The man was found out and knocked senseless.”
“It’s just as well.” Beaufort gave a shrug. “You had already decided to give her up. So, it’s probably for the best.”
Alec let go a curse.
“Better that she marry someone else,” Beaufort went on as though he had not heard. “Rather than wither away in some convent. With a spirit like that, she will have many fine, strong sons. Newbury might just as well have them as naught.”
“I’ll die before I let that happen!” Alec strode for the stables. The truth was, he had not contemplated who Isabeau might marry. He could not bring himself to do so. Instead he’d been satisfied that it wasn’t Newbury, beyond that he had not allowed himself to dwell upon it further. He could not. The thought of Isabeau with anyone but him, caused immeasurable pain.
William raced ahead to saddle Mercury.
“Well said.” Beaufort followed close on Alec’s heels. “We’ll get her back and I’ll marry her.”
“What.” Alec stopped in his tracks, staring at Beaufort as though he had lost his senses.
“It’s the least I can do. After all, she saved Will’s life.”
“She saved his life because he’s my squire and my friend. What has it to do with you?”
“So you don’t want me to marry her?”
“Isabeau is mine!” Alec said with force, then seeing the amusement dancing in Beaufort’s gold eyes he spun on his heel, throwing over his shoulder. “You arse!”
“Where are you going” Beaufort asked, taking long strides to keep up.
“To get her back.”
“Good. I’m coming with you.”
By the time they reached the stable William had saddled both of their steeds.
Alec leapt onto Mercury’s back leaving Beaufort to follow, his thoughts already focused on the task ahead.
There was much ground to cover if he was to find Isabeau before Barak turned her over to Newbury.
Unless Newbury was waiting at the nearest chapel.
In that case, she was lost to him.
A pain shot through his chest, as though someone plunged a dagger into his heart.
He forced the thought from his brain.
Chapter Eighteen
The air grew damp. The wind howled louder with every furlong North they traveled. Isabeau gazed skyward from her perch on the borrowed bay palfrey, wishing she had her ermine mantle instead of the grey wool mantle she’d flung about her shoulders. Smoky clouds hung dark and bleak above her head—much like her future if she did not escape.
Barak rode ahead on his chestnut destrier, as bright as a pheasant in the red surcoat he wore over his hauberk. He hadn’t offered to accost her thus far, but ‘twas only a matter of time. The quick sidelong glances he shot her way said he had more on his mind than the rough terrain of the foothills rising in the distance.
The monster twins had rode on ahead to announce their arrival, and ensure they were greeted with the utmost of pomp and civility. Barak loved ramming his position of power down lesser Baron’s throats until they choked. A lesson he’d learned from his father.
Isabeau’s heart grew heavier and heavier, until it felt as though a millstone pressed down hard against her breast. If only she still had the amulet—something to hold forever. But then it would only remind her of what she’d lost. Love and happiness had been so close. She had gazed into it in the deep blue pools of his eyes, and felt it in his tender kiss. Her heart had swelled with it—her blood raced with it.
But now it was gone, like a puff of smoke, replaced with an emptiness where misery crept in, like a hollow ache, threatening to break her heart in twain.
She would never see Alec again.
Worst still, she’d left without saying farewell. He would never know how much she loved him—how she would never stop loving him, despite his objections about her family—despite the fact they would never wed. Her heart was his.
He was the happiness she’d always sought.
And now, would be forced to live without.
But what else could she do?
‘Twas the only way to save Will.
Had she told Alec, he would have stopped her from coming. He didn’t know Barak as she did. Idle threats were not in his making. If she hadn’t surrendered, Barak would have slain Will, of that she was certain.
And she could not have lived with that.
Some would call her a fool, risking her future in such a way. But Will meant the world to Alec. He was not only a servant, but a friend—her friend as well as Alec’s. How could she not save him? What sort of friend allowed another to perish without lifting a finger?
Love commanded action.
She could do no more than obey her heart.
Besides, she had to put an end to it.
She couldn’t allow her family to be the cause of more misery. Why two soulless creatures such as Barak and her Uncle Royce had been unleashed on this earth, or why she had been so unfortunate as to be their kin, she did not know. But as long as it was in her power to disrupt their plans, she must.
Besides, all was not lost.
There was still the possibility of escape.
She wasn’t about to give up yet. She’d slipped from Barak’s grasp once before, and with any luck, would do so again. He’d eventually let down his guard, and when he did, she’d be ready.
He would not win.
As though sensing her malice, Barak turned his head to glare back at her, his green eyes alight with gold flecks of hellfire.
Isabeau did not flinch, but stared back at him, wondering what had gone wrong. They shared the same blood. They were kin. And yet, life had left him a bitter, cruel man. What had tipped the scales to make him so twisted and self-serving—so rank?
It had to be more than jealousy. Had some other awful event made a chink in his soul, leaving a crack wide enough to let evil seep in?
Or, had he simply inherited Uncle Royce’s cruel streak, as Maddie often said. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ she liked to preach. She blabbed on and on of Barak’s faults to Isabeau, but knew enough to hold her tongue in his presence. Barak had the power to send her packing. And, Maddie cherished her position as nursemaid too much not to guard her tongue.
The day wore on, until Isabeau hunched stiff in the saddle, her backside so sore it had gone numb.
When Barak pulled his mount to a halt on the rise of a hill, Isabeau’s heart stopped with a heavy clunk, then picked up speed until it raced so fast she could not catch her breath.
She’d prayed he wouldn’t stop for the night—that she’d be safe from his manhandling. But deep in her heart she knew that was too much to hope for. Barak
never gave up.
Her mind turned and turned, searching for a way out—some means of escape.
But there was nowhere to run.
Her only hope was to outwit him.
How, she did not know.
He dismounted, leading his mount to a lone cedar sprouting between two boulders and a smattering of lichen-covered rocks, as good a place as any to stop, as there was no cover to speak of in the bleak and barren landscape stretched out before them.
There was no place to hide.
No one to help.
Isabeau remained rooted in the saddle, gazing at the desolation before her.
Panic prickled up her spine.
Her mind raced and raced for a way out of her predicament. “There’s no shelter.” Her voice rose like a eunuch, despite all efforts to remain calm. “Why do we stop here?”
Having tied his mount to the craggy cedar, Barak turned back toward her, a thin smile stretched across his lips. “Because I wish to.” His smile of satisfaction deepened as he strode toward her. He yanked her from the saddle, fingers biting into her arms like talons.
Isabeau twisted and turned attempting to free herself from his merciless grip, but she could not loose him.
Barak released her so suddenly she fell back, smashing her elbows on the rocky ground as she attempted to save herself.
Before she could recover he jumped atop her, straddling her legs and pinning her arms above her head.
“Go ahead! Do it!” She screamed between short gasps, straining for air with Barak’s weight pressed down hard on her breast. “But, take heed before you do,” she spat. “I’ll make certain I tell Newbury ‘twas you who took my maidenhead. He won’t be very happy when he discovers you cheated him out of the pleasure.”
Barak’s green eyes widened. “He’d never believe that!”
“Why? Because you’ve dealt so honestly with him in the past?” Isabeau let go a bitter laugh. “Oh, I think he would.”
“You impudent whore!” Barak shook her then spat in her face as he pushed himself off of her, rising to his feet with a snarl twisting his lips. Before she could wipe the spittle from her cheeks, he reached down and grabbed her by the neckline of her kirtle, hauling her to her feet, nearly strangling her in the process.
She attempted to flee, but only managed to choke herself further.
He slapped her across the face so hard her ears began to ring.
The blow knocked her to the ground, disorienting her to the point where the earth seemed to swim and shake beneath her, and for a moment, she thought she heard voices.
When the black spots cleared from her eyes she realized she’d been right. The earth had shook.
From the steady thrum of Mercury’s hooves and Beaufort and William’s mounts.
Isabeau’s heart lifted, as she stumbled to her feet wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
Barak expelled a curse as he raced to his chestnut Destrier, boots kicking up dust and stones as he went.
When he turned from the beast, sword in hand, Alec stood waiting, mouth flattened, blue eyes narrowed to cobalt slits.
Their swords met with a hollow clang.
Barak fought like a cornered animal, and so he was, wielding his sword wildly, delivering one powerful blow after another.
Sweat beaded on Alec’s forehead from the effort it took to fend off Barak’s assault. One well-placed thrust missed him by a finger, wrenching a gasp from Isabeau, but she need not have worried, for, as at Langley’s tournament Alec’s agility eventually began to win out.
Barak tired, huffing and puffing, sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose. Wielding his sword high he brought it down hard, like a club, the steel slicing the air with an eerie whine. But in his fatigued state, he had misjudged the angle of his attack.
Alec’s blade caught the edge of Barak’s sword with so much force it went spiraling to the dirt.
Barak made a wild dive for his sword, but before his fingers could grasp the hilt, he felt the prick of Alec’s blade against his neck.
“Yield and I will spare you for Isabeau’s sake,” Alec said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving.
Barak glared up at him, but conceded, saying with little grace, “I have no choice, ‘twould seem.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Beaufort said, striding forward to take over guarding Barak’s throat.
Isabeau rushed forward, overcome with joy and relief, her heart pounding fast. She needed to feel him and touch him and know that he was real.
Alec met her halfway, enfolding her in his arms, squeezing her so tight, she couldn’t catch her breath. Then he drew back. “Never do that again! Do you understand? Never leave me again!” He kissed her on both cheeks then hugged her tight again. “I love you,” He breathed against her ear. “You are my life!”
“I love you too.” She kissed him again through salty tears.
“What should we do with him?”
They drew apart to regard Beaufort.
He smiled grimly, a predatory gleam alight his amber eyes. “Should I kill him, my lady, or do you want the pleasure?”
“Leave him to me.” Will hustled forward, one eye and cheek blotched black and purple, no doubt a gift from Barak or the monster twins.
Isabeau sucked in a sharp breath. “Nay!”
“He’s your kin.” Alec said, meeting Isabeau’s gaze, a wry smile twisting his lips as he strode toward her, sheathing his sword as he went. “What do you suggest, my lady?”
It didn’t take her long to consider the matter. “He’d bring a tidy ransom, don’t you think?”
“That he would, my sweet.” Alec drew her close with one arm to drop a kiss on her lips, making her heart leap. “But one ransom is all I need.
“You can’t keep that ransom.” Still aflutter and a little off balance from the silky feel of his lips, her voice rose to a squeak at the thought of Nicola’s outrage. “Nicola and Curran need it. They’re just starting a family and—”
“I’m speaking of your dowry, my love.” Alec said, putting a finger to her lips to end her tirade. “I’m not as greedy as you once accused me of.”
Heat suffused her cheeks, remembering how she’d once questioned his honor.
“Well?” Beaufort demanded, impatience crinkling his brow.
“He’s worth more alive,” Alec threw over his shoulder. “Truss him up and cart him home. You can hold him for ransom, and after, Agnew can feed him to Newbury’s sister.”
“You whoreson bastard!!!” Barak raged before Will stuffed a rag in his mouth and tied a leather strip around his head.
Isabeau’s tone turned wry. “Mayhap you should have killed him?”
Alec shrugged. “He’s your cousin, for good or bad.”
“True.” Isabeau’s belly knotted remembering what Barak had done to Nicola—what he had almost done to her, and the shame he had brought their family. “But I would have killed him, had I a weapon, if you hadn’t arrived when you did.”
“Then, ‘tis well I fought him and not you, else our tale would have had a different end.”
“I fear we’ll never be safe as long as he lives.”
“You’ll always be safe,” Alec said, gathering her closer in his arms, “As long as I’m here, he’ll never harm you again. Or the next time, kin or no kin, I’ll kill him myself.”
“We’ll make a pact then.” Isabeau grinned. “You save me from my family and I’ll save you from yours.” She clung to him, hugging him tight, needing to feel the heat of his body, needing to know that it was really him—that he was flesh and blood. She laid her head in the curve between his neck and his chest. He smelled so clean, like the snow and the wind, and everything good, and yet he felt so warm, and hard and safe.
“You’re right. ‘Tis best that neither of us start killing off our own kin. The deed would haunt us both after we’re wed,” Alec said, producing the amulet from under his surcoat, then lifting it off over his head. “You forgot someth
ing when you left.” He pressed the amulet into her hand, then brought her hand to his lips to kiss the backs of her fingertips. “When I sent this gift, the words bore a different meaning. But from the moment I found you in the woods that changed. I think I loved you from the second I set eyes on you, Isabeau Dawney.”
She lifted it with trembling fingers over her head to place it around her neck, then cocked a saucy smile. “’Tis a pity you did not show it.”
He drew her into his arms. “I will show it for the rest of my life.”
“And how do you propose to do that, my lord,” she said lifting her arms around his neck.
“Like this,” he whispered against her ear, then kissed her with such passion it left her breathless. “Does that meet with your approval?”
“That will do very well I think,” she said when she could eventually catch her breath, her heart beating with such joy she could not think.
But three words repeated in her head.
Love never lies.
To find true happiness, it cannot be denied.
And she had finally found it.
THE END
Love Never Lies Page 28