The Northern Knights Series (Boxed Set)

by Amber Dane

  Alexa knew she’d not made a sound, but he turned her way and met her gaze. Those green eyes sent shivers down her spine. He said nothing and turned back and rejoined the conversation with the men.

  What were they doing gathered here with their whispers? She wondered. Something was afoot. Their body language confirmed it. Bits and pieces of their words reached Alexa’s ears and her body went rigid at what she heard.

  They were discussing the changes he’d made to her home. She learned he had begun to build a Norman castle opposite the family burial ground. Sadness seeped into her bones as she listened to the extensive plans the man had for her lands. Growth and more wealth would come, but at the expense of the English and to the likes of these Norman invaders. She understood now, why they were in the room.

  Almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, he turned, but this time he faced her with one arched brow. His expression, one of amusement caused a tremor to run through her and Alexa, her sadness too great, could not hide it from her gaze. Feeling utterly helpless she turned her head away and closed her eyes. She swore by the look in his eyes he’d hoped she’d heard and she had.

  Sickness filled her gut. He’d done it apurpose for surely he'd known the depth of pain his words would bring to her and Alexa cursed him silently. There was naught she could about it and he knew it. His cruel whims brought her deep grief. Tears stung the back of her lids and she tried to will the sound of all their voices away. She had asked for a discussion with him, not this. Damn his cruel Norman hide!

  She must have fallen asleep for when she woke again, he was gone along with the others. Darkness enveloped the room save for the couple of candles; Camm no doubt, had left lit on the candle table. She had need of the garderobe and prayed her maid would return soon.

  Seeing the top of the wooden chest empty, she realized she had not slept too late after all. Camm had yet to bring the evening meal and Alexa found her stomach churning at the thought. She cast the thought of food aside and took deep breaths when she realized she had been mistaken. She was not alone after all and that someone yet remained in the room. She could hear them breathing in the darkness.

  Panic seized her and too late, Alexa turned her head. Hands came down hard over her mouth and nose, crushing and cutting off her breath.

  A soft cloth with a strong stench clinging to it, was shoved into her mouth. Alexa fought back the urge to retch, her eyes stinging from the strong smell. She lost the battle. Fear of death gripped her over her helpless position as the first spasms seized her throat.

  He would take his wife her tray tonight. Rourke told himself it was just to make sure that she ate, not that he wanted to see her or the sorrow gone from her eyes. The sorrow he’d put there earlier. His intent had been cruelty, but when he’d seen the pain in her eyes, something had torn inside him. Deep regret had set in. He’d tried to ignore it, explain it away with many different reasons, yet, naught sufficed. Bringing her tray was his first try in this madness of wooing that Goran so wished for him to try.

  He opened the door to her chamber and her chilling wheeze met his ears.

  Pure terror raced through him as he watched her body convulse on the bed as she gagged and choked nigh to death on the vomit spewing from her throat all over her.

  Rourke bellowed, “Nay!”

  The tray hit the floor with a loud crash and he was next to the bed fumbling for the key in the fold of his tunic, but not fast enough and so he flipped the mattress onto its side. His arms locked around her jerking body and grasping her head, he held it at a painful angle as she bucked and fought for air.

  Finally when he had cleared the vomit from her throat, she sobbed heavily as he quickly unlocked the chains. The fear that still gripped him caused him to pull her limp and sweaty form into his arms and onto his lap.

  Vomit covered his tunic and breeches, but Rourke did not care as he held her whilst the hysterical choking sobs had their way with her. Alexa’s hands at first clutched at the collar of his tunic, and then she beat her fists against his neck.

  “You bastard! I almost died!”

  Her gravelly voice, hoarser from the rawness of her thick sobs cut through him sharply, causing him to wince. He grabbed her hands, gripping them in his. She did not fight him.

  “I am sorry!” And he was. God’s teeth! It was the truth.

  What if he had not come in just then? What if it had been her maid? Would she have saved her in time? No! Rourke shuddered over the thought and his arms tightened around her. He did not know that he buried his face in her damp hair as he groaned. He had almost lost her and for what? Over their stubbornness? His stubbornness!

  “My lord?” Camm’s meek voice cut through Alexa’s quiet sobs from the chamber door.

  Without lifting his head, Rourke ordered the maid to fetch fresh linens and a bath. Camm, worried, quickly hurried from the room.

  Alexa pulled away from him a little and gazed up at him. “Th-That was horrible.” She shook, not caring that her soul lay bare to him in that moment just as she noticed his was too. It had frightened them both.

  Rourke swept away the wisps of hair sticking to her brow and cheeks with one hand, gently. He could not say anything; he was too choked with the terror of what had almost happened. He was glad she cried, gave some solace that she had truly survived.

  She watched the strange emotions play across his face. “I have never been so afraid in my life. I thought I was going to die like that. Never have I wished so badly for the taste of fresh air. ‘Twas horrible, awful and-” a choked sob stopped her words and her amber eyes filled again. Rourke closed his eyes, pulling her tight against him once more and managed to utter near her ear.

  “I am so sorry, Alexa. So very sorry.” His large hand cupped the back of her head as he pressed her tightly against him.

  She clung to him, shivering and wrapped her arms around his thick neck. “I was so helpless to stop them. They tried to kill me.”

  Rourke drew back, alarm and suspicion on his worried face. He lifted her chin. “Them? What of do you speak?”

  Alexa swallowed, her eyes locked with his as her fingers massaged the back of his neck. “Mayhap it was just one. I am not so sure. But, so-someone covered my mouth and put…put a rag in my mouth.”

  Rourke gave her an odd look. He had stopped gagging her days ago. “What rag?”

  Alexa squawked, wrenching out of his embrace. Her gaze swept over the bed and the floor. Rourke looked too and neither saw this rag of which she spoke. Alexa’s shoulders slumped and a bewildered look crossed her pale face.

  “It was here, I swear it!” Her wide eyes shot back to his angry green. “Someone was in here with me. I tell you truth!” Her voice shook as she shouted at him. .

  Fear crawled up Rourke’s spine. He had thought she’d choked on food or drink. Not for one moment had he believed another attempt on her life might have been the cause. Rage built in him at the thought. And guilt.

  He reached for her, but she shrank back, her pleading eyes sought his for a sign that he believed her. Rourke did.

  Her tough exterior gone and in its place vulnerability. It broke something inside him and he pulled her back against him, fiercely in a snug embrace.

  Camm returned along with others in tow for the bath ordered. Rourke hushed and spoke soothing words near Alexa’s ear in an effort to ease her upset. One large hand rubbed up and down her back over the stained and sweat drenched shift that clung to her. She reeked of her vomit and the smell only fueled his rage as he eyed every servant suspiciously as they came and went. He was now surer than ever.

  The killer was inside the manor.

  Alexa forgot all about the discord and upset between them. The thought of facing death and chained to that bed with that rag shoved down her mouth should have had her railing in anger at him, but it didn’t. What it did for her was make her realize that, as for the many nights she’d lain here and days since she’d met him, wishing, praying for death. She did not really want it.

&n
bsp; She wanted life and she wanted it with him. He had been right.

  Someone was trying to kill her, not him and Alexa had no idea who it was or why. Those two thoughts had crushed her just as they had given her the extra will to hang on long past the moment she had believed she could no longer draw in a final breath and darkness had beckoned. Then, she’d seen the light. His sun streaked golden head had come into view and she’d grasped with her last bit of strength ebbing one last time for that life and his light. She clung fiercely to him now and did not let him go until he had to pry her fingers from around his neck so she could take her bath.

  TWENTY

  Rourke watched her from the window. Although she did not look as peaked now, with the warm bath having brought some color back to her cheeks, he could still see the visible tremors in her hands as she ran her fingers absently through her damp hair. He had stepped out into the hall when Camm had helped her with her bath, against his better judgment. But, at Alexa’s fear filled eyes and silent pleading, he’d done so, but with a loud grunt of disapproval.

  She was such a strong-willed person and to see her like this, bothered him to no end. He would take his slow time in killing the person that caused it. He watched her chest rise and fall even now with shallow breaths as she glanced up at him from her seat on the bench in front of the hearth. Her wide eyes darted back to the bed and then back again to him.

  The chains now lay in a pile on the floor next to the bed. The vile things looked snakelike now and even made Rourke himself cringe. He tore his gaze from them and looked back at her. He wanted to take her into his arms, but he needed to get answers first. If any. Rourke sighed. At least she had stopped crying. A good sign she was calmer. Her tears bothered him.

  “You must recall something, Alexa!” He softened the last when she flinched under his bark. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Her lip trembled anew with her deep breaths. Where was his strong hellion now? He sighed heavily and tried again, “Could have been their scent? Mayhap on their hands when they covered your mouth. Or the size of them? Was naught familiar?”

  “I told you, it was too dark!” She yelled at him. Yet, her face scrunched up slightly and Rourke knew she was thinking and a spark of hope lit inside him. She just needed some prodding to jog her memory. She was not a Saxon woman prone to faints nor was faint of heart. Goran’s words over her grief for her sister plus everything else he himself had subjected her to, came to him. This weakness he saw in her made him see just how vulnerable she truly was under that false brave front. He walked over and stood in front of her.

  She looked lost in her deep concentration, and then she whispered hoarsely, “Wait…”

  Rourke did not realize that he reached out and touched her exposed arm. A clammy coolness yet clung to her skin and she moved her arm away from him with a strangled cry. Rourke felt a pang lance through the present heaviness in his chest.

  “Could be the slightest thing...” he offered, swallowing hard and knelt to one knee in front of her. When her wide amber eyes remained steady on him, he held his breath and wanted to kiss her right then.

  “Sweet...bitter, then… rotten. Smelled awful.” Alexa whispered so low, he had to lean closer to hear. Rourke quickly frowned over the words that fell from her mouth. He took her small hand in his. This time she did not pull away from him. She clasped her other hand over their joined ones as a sparkle lit again in her amber depths.

  “Rotten…”

  Her warm breath bathed his face and he shook his head, waiting. He almost smiled when she gave him an exasperated frown for not understanding.

  “Bitter and rotten. That’s it! ‘Twas the smell and taste of sulfur on the cloth… and their hands.” Alexa watched him oddly when the dark fury crossed his handsome face.

  “What is it?” She asked and stood with him as he rose abruptly and stomped over to the chamber door. He threw it open, barked something to the guards there before he closed it again and turned back to her.

  Alexa took a step back at the menacing scowl on his face.

  She had no time to figure his intentions as he reached out for her and swept her up in a rough embrace against his chest. She could feel the tremor run through him as his hold tightened.

  “Your things will be returned to our chamber at once. Every meal you take will be with me or one of my trusted guards. I assure you this will never happen again. Know that I protect what is mine.”

  Although her mind swirled over his words, Alexa felt herself nod in agreement. His heavy breath fanned the top of her head. Pressed so tight against his chest, all she could get out was a muffled mumble.

  “I cannot understand you,” he murmured above her.

  She pushed at him as hard as she could. He released her and she said, red faced, “’Tis no wonder being as you almost smothered me. Wouldst you not a care in not trying to crush the rest of the life out of me?” Alexa scolded him. His own face flushed a deeper shade. “What of the sulfur?” she continued over the awkward moment.

  Rourke cleared the emotion from his throat. “Poison again. More lethal this time.” A puzzled expression marred her features and he pulled her back into his embrace, but with more care this time. “Sulfides are used in tanning. Orpiment substances. I know this and that smell, well, for my mother was a tanner in William’s court during his dukedom.”

  Alexa drew back with a gasp at the wealth of information he’d just given her. She stood there baffled as a knock came to the door. Rourke let Goran in. She heard him repeating everything to him before both men turned to her. Unease settled in her gut again at their expressions.

  “I will not have you suffer the same fate as that of your sister and father. This murderer will be found by the dawn.” Rourke’s angry words filled the chamber.

  Alexa’s hand flew to her chest as she gawked at him, horrified. “The same fate as my father? Lisbeth? What of do you speak?”

  “Aye. I have had a few suspicions and wanted to be sure before I voiced them to anyone.” Rourke continued over the displeased looks she and Goran shot him. “And I am glad I did not for they were unfounded. Matters not who I believed may have been behind these acts. What matters is I erred in my judgment and it nearly cost you your life.” Rourke did meet and hold her gaze then. The fire was back in her eyes and the fingers gripping the trim at the neck of her tunic was the only sign she gave that she was bothered by his words.

  Alexa too stunned by what he was saying, was momentarily speechless.

  “We will need to plan a careful and well executed trap.” The coldness of his tone and the expression upon his face added to the chill curling around her heart. That look alone would give any of his enemies pause.

  Alexa found her voice. “How are we supposed to do that if you fail to tell us of whom it is you suspect or suspected? And why think you, my father and Lisbeth’s deaths were no accidents?” She arched her own brows at his one and continued, “And for how long have you known this and been privy to this information?”

  Rourke heard the anger in her anxiety filled tone and the look she was giving him confirmed it. There was no easy way and having almost lost her, there was no longer time to tip toe around the matter.

  “Your answers one at a time. For the trap, it will be done with your help.”

  Alexa's mouth fell open and her gaze swept from his dark scowl to the matching one on Goran’s face, then back again as he went on.

  “As much as I dislike it ‘tis the only way. Soon enough you will see the reasoning of it. I will be right there through the whole of it. No further harm will come to you, Alexa. On that you have my word.”

  Alexa closed her gaping mouth on the sound of her name again from his mouth. It was a firm caress. She asked, after a nervous swallow, “Will you not tell us who you did suspect?”

  “Your maidservant.”

  Alexa’s eyes widened as she stumbled back and sputtered, a look of horror upon her face.

  Rourke raised a hand, explaining, “She is very close t
o you and seemed the likely one.”

  Alexa leaned her neck back to look at him when he approached her. She saw truth and no ill intent in his stormy green eyes. The look in them left her breathless and she knew.

  He had deduced what any rational person would have. It could easily be seen how Camm would be the first person suspected. She was always by her side and had not only the easiest access to her, but the most trusted. Had she been in the same position as he, Alexa knew she would have thought the same. But, Camm meant her no ill and besides the hands that had covered her mouth had belonged to a man.

  She said nothing of this to Rourke now and instead asked, her gaze unwavering on him. “Now. Lisbeth? My father?”

  He placed both his hands on her shoulders. By the time he had finished with his explanation, Rourke had to catch her from falling when her knees buckled beneath the weight of the news.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Cleaning his blade Rourke grunted in anger, nearly pricking the meaty part of his palm with the tip of the steel blade. Two days had passed and the killer was still not in his grasp. And that did not sit well with him.

  All of Alexa’s belongings had been returned to their chamber that night and although he slept beside her at night, he came to their chamber long after she was asleep. The killer would not strike if he was near. So, they followed the plan they’d agreed on and he left her alone for most of the day Or made the killer think she was being left alone and to make it appear as if all was well.. Rourke had his trusted guards watching their chamber at all times.

  Glancing over at her now, he could see the anger riding her stiff back where she was seated at the window.

  He found himself struggling with the emotions that surfaced within him in her presence. They still had not spoken much and he knew why. He could not change it, so they both suffered through the awkward silences.

  Rourke busied himself with the daily going ons by having his most trusted men in and out of the room to keep himself occupied and distracted with her so close when he took the evening meal with her.