Midnight Shadow

by Laurel O'Donnell

  She unhooked her brown velvet dress and slid it from her shoulders, then carefully folded it and tucked it beneath a group of bushes nearby.

  Bria stood naked beneath the moonlight. She knew she should be frightened. She knew she should be scared of discovery. But a strange calm soothed her, almost as if someone were watching over her.

  Bria removed a cloth from the bag and began wrapping it tightly around her chest, circling her torso again and again so her breasts were pressed down tightly. When her breasts were flattened almost to the point of pain, she pulled the cloth tight, tucking the end beneath the fabric. She removed a black tunic from the bag and pulled it over her head, then retrieved black leggings from the bag and pulled them up her long legs. She bent to the bushes and pulled out a pair of black boots, which she slipped on. She removed the cloak from the bag and flung it around her shoulders, tying it in place. Bria had left the castle with her hair braided and coiled tightly to her head so it would be well hidden beneath the cloak and its hood. She bent and reached beneath the bush, feeling back and forth until she found the scabbard. She pulled it out and laid it on the ground at her feet.

  Finally, she bent to the bag and retrieved the last item. The mask. She stared at it for a long moment. She would leave her identity as Bria behind when she donned this mask. She would become the hero of the people.

  Bria picked up her sheathed sword. She had enough money from the two tax collectors she’d stopped to help three people. Deb had told her about three other people who’d been hurt by Terran’s men. One poor woman had lost her husband when he’d tried to stop Kenric from beating her, and Kenric was still demanding taxes from her.

  Bria ground her teeth. This couldn’t be allowed to continue. If Terran didn’t care, then she’d stop it. Mary would be proud of her. Mary would have wanted her to help her people.

  Bria strapped the belt to her waist. The Midnight Shadow wouldn’t let Mary’s death be for nothing. She placed the mask around her eyes and tied it behind her head, then lifted the hood and settled it well over her face so her features were hidden in shadow. The transformation complete, she stood with her hands on her hips, gazing down into the tranquil pond.

  The Midnight Shadow stared back.

  ***

  Thump.

  Max the baker opened his eyes. He sat up quickly, lighting the candle beside his bed. Was it a robber in his bakery, or had those tax collectors returned to eat all his bread? He grabbed a stick and descended the stairs.

  His foot no sooner touched the floor of the first level than he saw the dark figure standing in the doorway. He raised his stick, but the figure did not move. If it were a robber, he would have run.

  Max narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” he asked, refusing to lower his stick. “What do you want?”

  “The tax collectors stole bread from you?”

  Max clutched the stick tighter. Was this a trick? “What concern is it to you?”

  “I am justice,” the shadow said. “I am the Midnight Shadow.”

  Max could only stare. Then something caught his eye. Flickering on the table in the middle of the room was a candle, and beneath the candle was a small pouch. Max cautiously moved over to the table, still clutching his stick. He reached out to the pouch and pulled the string. Something inside glittered, but he couldn’t see because of the darkness.

  Anxiously, he dumped the contents onto the table. Coins rolled out, hitting the candlestick and spinning before falling flat onto the table.

  Max’s eyes widened. It was enough for fifty loaves of bread! He lifted his eyes to the Midnight Shadow...

  … but the doorway was empty.

  Max raced to the door and looked out into the night. The shadows of the surrounding trees swayed in the breeze, but there was no sign of the Midnight Shadow.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Midnight Shadow rode through the forest, urging her steed in and out of streams and paths with the ease of one who knows the land, returning to the pond whose waters twinkled beneath the stars of the clear midnight sky, glimmering like a magical lake.

  She swung her leg over the horse and dismounted, tying her horse to the tree near the pond. She moved to stand at the edge of the pond, gazing into the water, studying herself for a long moment.

  Then, with a sigh, the protector of the innocent reached up and removed her hood. She untied the mask and slid it from her face. The Midnight Shadow disappeared.

  “I’m so sorry, Mary,” Bria whispered. She lifted her gaze to the distant road where Kenric had killed Mary and the herbalist. Every night before donning the hood and cape, Bria silently remembered her friend, remembered why she’d chosen to become the Midnight Shadow. And every night when she removed the hood, she recalled her friend’s bravery for facing Kenric.

  She reached beneath the bush and pulled out her bag. She carefully folded her cape and put it on the ground. Then she unfastened her black scabbard and sword from her waist. She crawled between two bushes, their branches clawing at her tunic and hair. She reached beneath one of the bushes and shoved the sword and scabbard into a mound of fallen leaves. She strained beneath the bush to push the leaves over the top of the sword to hide it from all would-be discoverers.

  Then Bria rose and carefully removed her black tunic and black leggings, folding them meticulously and lovingly. She set them on the ground on top of the cape. She pulled her gown from the bag and donned it, hooking it at the side.

  The moon was far up in the sky when she finished dressing. Lastly, she knelt on the ground beside the Midnight Shadow’s pile of clothing. She took the mask and placed it on top of the black clothing. She sat back on her heels. The mask stared up at her, a silent reminder of her obligation, her mission.

  Bria gently lifted the pile of clothes and placed them into the bag. She pulled the cord tightly around the sack, closing it, sealing her secret from the rest of the world.

  Then she mounted her horse and rode toward Castle Delaney. It had been a good night. She’d managed to leave a few coins for two farmers whose families were on the brink of starvation as well as Max the baker. All had been cruelly overtaxed by Knowles.

  Knowles. Terran. Again the question surfaced: How could he be so evil when he had touched her with such tenderness? She could still recall the gentle stroke of his lips. How could he treat his own people as if they were nothing but the means to more wealth, and yet allow Garret’s squire to be his own squire? It didn’t make sense.

  She crossed the drawbridge and entered the castle, riding to the stables. She saw to her horse, combing him down and blanketing him for the night. She affectionately patted his neck and slung the bag over her shoulder, heading for the keep.

  The dark courtyard was still and silent, as if it, too, was working with her to keep her secret.

  Bria walked up the two steps to the keep and pushed one of the double doors open to enter. She pushed it closed behind her and moved down the still hallway. All the servants were sleeping. The only sounds were the snapping, hissing flames from the torches that lit the corridor and her own soft steps. She moved up the spiral stairway and down the hallway to her room.

  When she entered and closed the door behind her, a sense of relief filled her. She tossed the bag on the bed and lit a candle.

  “It’s rather late to be out for a ride.”

  She whirled, her gaze searching her room. A shadow separated from the wall and moved into the circle of light cast by the flickering candle. The light slowly washed over Lord Terran Knowles, revealing his face as he moved toward her.

  Bria’s heart raced as panic filled her. She fought it down, demanding, “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a solution to our problem,” he murmured, the timbre of his voice moving through her body.

  She stepped away from him, realizing her heart was racing not with panic, but with something else. Unsure and frightened by the strange sensations Terran aroused within her, she quickly moved out of the light of the candle and into the da
rkness that helped conceal her as the Midnight Shadow, the darkness she hoped would conceal her feelings as Bria. She skirted the edges of her room, but Terran pursued her.

  “What problem?” she managed to stammer.

  “You’re mine,” he proclaimed.

  The certainty in his voice sent waves of shivers through her body. For just an instant, a wildly mad instant, she wondered what it would be like to be possessed by Terran.

  “You’ve been mine from before you were born,” he said. “Your father knows it and you know it. You simply will not acknowledge it.”

  The backs of her knees hit the bed. She glanced over her shoulder. A ray of moonlight illuminated the deep red blanket and something black near the head of the bed. Suddenly, sheer, vibrant fear seized her as she remembered her bag lay hidden in the darkness near the headboard.

  Her gaze snapped back to Terran. He was standing very close, so close she could see the smoky depths of his eyes. So close she could feel his breath as it fanned her lips, the raw power radiating from the core of his being.

  It wasn’t fear that filled her as he lifted his arms to her shoulders. It wasn’t dread. It wasn’t loathing. It was breathless anticipation.

  “I’m here to convince you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Terran stared down into the largest blue eyes that he had ever beheld, eyes that held a surprising strength shimmering deep inside behind their beauty. He reached for her, and Bria stood her ground. He admired her defiance and determination not to be intimidated.

  Or was it that she wanted him to kiss her? Because that’s what he was going to do. His fingers pressed into her soft shoulders and drew her closer to him. Was that a gasp from those parted lips as she came up against his chest?

  Terran stared down into her eyes. Then his own gaze traveled over her features inch by inch. Her lashes were long and dark, closed partly over those liquid blue eyes. Her nose was pert and delicate, her skin flawless and creamy. He feathered his fingertips over her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft, everything he’d imagined.

  Her lips captured his gaze. Full and ripe.

  Terran lowered his head, moving his lips closer to hers. “It will do no good for you to fight,” he murmured. He’d come here to compromise her and had expected some resistance. He hadn’t expected her to be so... willing.

  His lips touched hers softly, caressing them with feather light strokes.

  She wasn’t fighting. She wasn’t pushing him away. She was simply standing, unmoving, in his hold. She wanted him to kiss her. The thought sent waves of desire crashing over him.

  He pressed his lips against hers, pulling her firmly to him. She was so soft against his hard body. He moved his hand down her shoulder to cup her full breast. She gasped slightly, arching against his hand. God’s blood! he thought as desire flared through him. She wants me to touch her!

  Where had she been? The thought came unbidden, and he reared back suddenly. A rendezvous. She’d been out with a lover. It was the only reason she would have been out so late at night, the only reason she’d let him touch her. Warmed by the caress of another man. Of course. It all made sense now.

  Her partly closed eyes opened wider as the moment was lost. She jerked as if to flee his embrace, but Terran held her tightly.

  Obviously her lover had left her unsatisfied. “It’s too late for escape,” Terran growled, fiercely angry. He stepped forward, using his body to push her back onto the bed. The impetus toppled him toward her, but he caught himself on his arms before landing hard on top of her and hurting her. “I will not have my wife running around at midnight like the village harlot.”

  She pushed against his chest. “I am not your wife,” she ground out.

  He’d fought for everything worthwhile in his life, his reputation, his skill as a warrior. He would fight for Bria. Even tainted, she was his. He seized her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head. With his other hand, he reached around to undo the hooks that fastened her dress.

  “Don’t,” she snarled and twisted, trying to break his hold.

  But his hold was tight and unrelenting. No wife of his would dare to cuckold him. When he couldn’t unfasten the hooks, his rage and frustration mounted. He pulled fiercely at the fabric, and it ripped across her stomach.

  “Stop it!” she screamed.

  His lips curled as he gazed down at her torn dress; the shimmering skin bared to him aroused him more than he cared to admit. He lifted his face to hers and froze, letting the torn fabric slip from his fingers.

  It wasn’t her rage that halted his movements; it wasn’t her defiance that cooled his anger. It was the tears glistening in her large eyes.

  “Stop it,” she whispered through trembling lips.

  What am I doing? Terran thought. When Kenric had suggested compromising her, he’d said Bria was just a woman and no woman could stand against Terran’s charm. Terran’s vanity had believed him. He thought she might fight at first, but he believed ultimately she’d enjoy his touch.

  The desperate pleas from her lips were not those of a woman enjoying his touch.

  The idea of forcing Bria to his will, of forcing any woman, was repulsive. What he’d been about to do to save his castle and his lands sickened him. He rolled off of her and shoved her away from him.

  “I’m sorry, Lady Bria,” he murmured. “Betrothed or not, I have no right to treat you like that.”

  He looked up at her, but she was hidden in the shadows. Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing the bed and part of the floor in light.

  Terran tried to see her face, but couldn’t. He saw the bottom of her brown velvet skirt near the floor, but that was all. He stood and moved to the foot of the bed.

  He would leave come sunrise. He bowed slightly, planning to tell her so, but something caught his eye. A piece of black cloth was lying in the moonlight not far from the bed.

  Had he ripped her dress that much? No, Terran remembered, she was wearing brown. It must have been from another dress.

  Terran bent to retrieve the cloth. She stepped forward so quickly he almost didn’t reach it first. His hand closed over it and he straightened. When his eyes alighted on her, he noticed the strange coloring of her face. At first, he attributed it to the moonlight. But there was such utter dread and fear in her eyes it caused him to glance down at the black cloth. Was this the source of her terror?

  His finger was sticking through what could have been a tear in the black fabric. Fabric as dark as the night. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right. He lifted the piece of fabric and held it before him.

  Two eyeholes stared back at him. It was a mask.

  The same kind of mask his enemy the Midnight Shadow wore.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Her mask!

  Bria couldn’t move. Sheer terror engulfed her as Terran lifted the mask before him. Their struggles must have knocked the bag to the floor and the mask had somehow tumbled out.

  He knew she was the Midnight Shadow. He’d throw her in the dungeon, or worse. Have her hanged. Or burned.

  What was she to do? She had to come up with some reason the mask would be in her bag. She could feign innocence. What is that doing in my bag? It was ridiculous, but it was the only thing she could think of. Terror closed her throat. She opened her mouth to offer an explanation, but nothing came out.

  And then he turned black, condemning eyes to her. Bria recoiled as if he’d thrown a noose around her neck.

  “What is this?” he demanded in a voice that brooked no argument.

  Bria couldn’t move. She could feel the imaginary noose tighten around her throat. None of her muscles responded to the silent command to run. He would kill her now unless she could think of some reason why she’d have the Midnight Shadow’s mask in her bag. Oh Lord, she begged silently, let something come to me. But no flash of insight came to her, no way out.

  “Answer me,” he snarled.

  Bria licked her lips to moist
en them, but her mouth was dry. “I... I don’t know what that is,” she whispered.

  “Liar,” he snapped, closing his fist around the mask. He stepped closer to her and Bria retreated.

  Suddenly the door flew open behind Terran. Her father and grandfather entered the dark room, two guards behind them. Bria raced around Terran, all but leaping over the bed to escape his wrath, and fell into the safety of her father’s arms.

  “What is going on here?” Lord Delaney demanded, his good arm tightening protectively around Bria’s shoulders.

  “I might ask the same of you,” Terran retorted.

  Her father’s gaze shifted to Bria and lighted on her torn dress. His gaze snapped back to Knowles, and his jaw clenched furiously. His burning eyes pinned Knowles to the spot.

  “You vile filth,” Harry said through clenched teeth. He stepped forward as if he meant to beat Knowles, his hand clenched tightly in a fist.

  Terran stepped closer. “Lady Bria will marry me.”

  “Enough of this,” Lord Delaney declared.

  “Yes, quite,” Terran’s eyes narrowed and he glared at Bria.

  His anger sliced through her body like a sword. She wanted to cocoon herself in the safety of her father’s arms, but they weren’t enough to shield her from Terran’s fury.

  “Enough of this.” Terran lifted the mask before him, holding it out for all to see.

  Bria turned her head from Terran’s gaze to lock eyes with her grandfather. He alone knew she’d seen the fabric. He alone knew how dear she held the story of the Midnight Shadow.

  But would he know now she’d chosen to take up her hero’s cause?

  Horror and anxiety glittered in Harry’s eyes. His fingers clenched and unclenched.

  “What is that?” her father demanded.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s the mask of a certain man who’s been robbing my lands. He calls himself the Midnight Shadow,” Terran explained.