Denise Lynn

by Pregnant by the Warrior

  She'd be better served with anger, no matter where it was directed. Her anger could be soothed later. But her fear now could get them all killed.

  Without turning his head, he nearly growled at her, 'Do as I say and keep quiet.'

  She said nothing, but he heard the movement of her horse as she moved back alongside Agatha.

  Six men charged toward them from ahead, just as Rolfe called out, 'Six at the rear.'

  A quick glance to his left, then to the right, assured him that for now, there were no others.

  Twelve against six of his own men wouldn't be bad enough odds to make him wonder about the outcome. But three of the men in his circle were from David's force. They were men he didn't know. Nor did he know if the two men he'd sent to guard the rear of their party were alive or dead.

  The two enemy groups stopped within hailing distance. The set of men ahead of him parted, letting another rider come through to approach.

  The man coming closer was either completely void of wit, or foolishly certain of his safety. He wore no armour, nor did he carry a weapon.

  When he was near enough to identify, Lea hissed. Jared shook his head. 'What is the meaning of this, Villaire?'

  'Send the woman out to me and no one else will be harmed.'

  The cur was brazenly arrogant when backed by a dozen armed men. Didn't he realise he was close enough for Jared to throw a dagger straight into his heart? If it wasn't for Lea and Agatha, he would have already done so.

  'No. I will not send my wife out to you.'

  'Your wife?' Villaire laughed. 'Not likely.' He reached inside his cloak to retrieve a scroll and waved it in the air. 'She is my ward. I gave her no permission to wed anyone, most especially you.'

  Jared knew the answer, but wanted it spoken aloud. 'By whose authority are you her guardian?'

  'King Stephen's.'

  'Montreau doesn't answer to a usurper of the throne.'

  Lea's gasp was audible. Jared didn't turn to look at her, but he spoke low enough so VUlaire wouldn't hear. 'You either do this my way, or feel free to join him.'

  'But—'

  Villaire shouted, 'Stephen is the true king!'

  'Choose right now, Lea. Matilda or Stephen.' Jared added more harshness to his voice, trying to convey the seriousness of their situation.

  For a long moment, she said nothing. Finally, she whispered brokenly, 'Warehaven.'

  Her answer took him by surprise. She would go where he chose?

  He turned his full attention back to Villaire. 'Stephen is naught but a liar and a thief.'

  'He is our king!'

  Jared countered, 'I and every other noble swore allegiance to Henry's daughter.'

  "No God-fearing man would follow a woman—especially that one.'

  Weary of sparring with words he'd heard coundess times from coundess dishonourable cowards in the past, Jared pointed his sword at Villaire. He twisted his wrist slighdy, letting the sunlight shimmer off the double-edged blade.

  'Stand aside, or find a sword, Villaire."

  Jared grimaced at Villaire's high-pitched laugh. 'You are outnumbered, Warehaven. Give me the woman, or die.'

  From behind him, Lea pleaded, 'Too many men have already died for my safety. I am not worth the loss of more. Just let me

  go-'

  He'd been expecting her to issue some witless comment sooner or later. 'You are my wife. You will go nowhere.'

  When she made a move to push her horse past him, Jared ordered, 'Hold that beast or I'll tie it to my saddle. You aren't going anywhere.'

  'He isn't going to harm me, just humiliate me.'

  'And wed you to another.'

  'He wants control of Montreau too much for him to wed me to someone who will take away his lordship of the keep.'

  'You are going nowhere.'

  Lea sighed. 'I'll not risk your life. Let me go.'

  Her imitation of a long-suffering sigh had angered him. But her words enraged him.

  She didn't think him capable of claiming victory in this skirmish? What sort of man did she think she'd wed?

  A coward?

  An inexperienced fool?

  Some weak, fearful man who would hide behind the skirts of her gown?

  She didn't trust him to keep her and their unborn baby safe?

  When he heard her horse's hooves move once again, Jared turned his horse sideways in front of her, blocking her path. 'I said no.'

  'Jared...'

  He flinched as something sharp laced his arm.

  Lea's words choked in her throat at the sight of an arrow protruding from Jared's arm.

  She opened her mouth to scream, only to seal her lips closed at his blazing glare. He jerked the arrow from his arm and tossed it to the ground. 'Stay behind me.'

  She nodded, barely recognising his hard, unforgiving voice.

  He turned to face the approaching men while ordering, 'Take the archer.'

  Before Villaire's force came more than two or three steps closer, Rolfe had dispatched the archer with his own arrows sent flying into the man's throat. Lea turned her head away from the gruesome sight.

  But found one more fearful. Another group of men came at them from the rear.

  Both groups of men were upon them before she could scream. Certain this would be the day she died, Lea made herself as small as possible on the saddle, tucking her head and shoulders down towards the horse's neck and waited, with eyes closed, for her undmely death.

  Not seeing the battle did nothing to shield her from the sounds.

  The clang of sword meeting sword sent shivers down her back. She cringed at the shouts of pain and anger coming from the men. And when the thud of a body hit the ground it was all she could do not to cry out.

  Dear Lord, she wasn't ready to die. Not yet. Lea covered her stomach with one hand. Did her child not deserve a chance to live?

  Jared cursed, making her fear he'd been injured yet again. Lea gasped at the pain lacing her chest and throat. She leaned forwards over the low, hard pommel of the saddle to bury her face in the horse's mane and hung on tightly.

  Her horse skittered back and forth, bumped in all directions from the horses and men surrounding her. Through the din of batde she caught the sound of Agatha's cries.

  The older woman's fear fed her own. Like some oddly contagious disease, each of Agatha's wails sent Lea's heart to pound harder as a cold, sick dread filled her veins, making her limbs near useless.

  She couldn't think. All of the sounds bled into each other, undl one horrific buzz filled her mind with terror, chasing away any radonal thought.

  Lea gasped, fighting to withstand this overwhelming sense of defeat threatening to consume her.

  She teetered on the brink of surrender when as suddenly as it'd begun the buzzing ceased.

  Horses pawed the ground, snorting. And while the shouts of men still rushed around her, they weren't as angry, or desperate.

  Lea straightened slighdy and cautiously opened her eyes. The battle appeared to be over. She took a breath, fortifying herself to face Villaire, and sat up.

  Except the angiy visage trained on her wasn't Villaire's. The pinpoint pupils and sneering lip beneath the nasal helm didn't belong to Villaire.

  Relief nearly knocked her from her horse. 'Jared,' she whispered his name.

  His eyes narrowed with an anger directed at her. He said nothing before spinning his horse around to issue orders to the men.

  Needing to know, she asked, 'Villaire?'

  Jared pointed towards an obviously lifeless body without stopping and without comment.

  Lea swallowed hard. The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach didn't come from the babe inside.

  Never had she seen him this angry. Never had he appeared so cold and remote. Even his manner towards his men seemed distant. He barked orders to gather the dead and see to the wounded.

  His men didn't appear concerned. Perhaps this was nothing more than his usual manner after a battle.

  Certain that was the
case and noticing that Jared ignored his own wound from the arrow, Lea urged her horse forwards to his side. When she reached out to check his injured arm, he swung away, asking, 'What are you doing?'

  'You were hurt, I only thought to—'

  'It's nothing but a scratch.'

  'And could be your death if it gets infected.'

  'It will wait.'

  Lea lowered her arm and stared at the ground.

  'Damn it, Lea. Don't.'

  His tone, his expression, his obvious lack of concern for his own well-being, not to mention hers, sent a new type of tremor down her spine.

  'What?' It was all she could do not to scream at him. She'd not given herself over to Villaire.

  She'd swallowed her fear the best she could while weapons clashed all around her.

  And even though she wanted to run, to hide from the sounds of death, hadn't she done as he'd ordered and stayed behind him?

  Then she'd offered help, only to have it turned away. And now he was snarling at her like some rabid dog.

  'I'm not doing anything.' Her own anger built. She tossed the reins of her horse at him and dismounted. He might not need her help, but from the looks of things, others did. Besides, staying busy was always the best distraction against fear or worry.

  'Get back on this horse.'

  'Go to hell, Warehaven.' She'd had enough of him this day. He'd ordered that the wounded be attended and that's what she was going to do whether he liked it or not.

  'Lea, I'm warning you.'

  She ignored the darkly sinister undercurrent in his voice and looked instead at Agatha. She told her maid, 'Have his lordship get me some water and yarrow.'

  Lea headed to Rolfe. Jared's man held his arm as he directed the men. She stopped next to him.

  'Sit down.'

  He looked down at her as if she were some three-headed beast, before he glanced toward Jared.

  'I said sit down, Sir Rolfe. You are bleeding.'

  When he made no move to do as she'd requested, Lea spun around with her hands on her hips to address Jared. 'I am the Lady of Montreau and Warehaven. Tell them to obey me.'

  Even though his expression didn't change, he nodded at Rolfe. 'She is your lady.'

  Rolfe sat on the ground and permitted her, with Agatha's help, to remove his helmet, coif and hauberk. The older woman staggered under the weight before finally just dropping it in a pile alongside the man.

  Jared's captain grimaced at the hasty treatment of his armour, but said nothing as Agatha left to see if any of the other men required their care.

  Lea ripped the bloody sleeve of Rolfe's shirt and shook her head at the gash on his arm. 'You'll live, but it appears your maille isn't as impervious to penetration as your lord claims.'

  Rolfe just grunted, sitting stoically as she poked and prodded at the injury. 'I don't suppose needle and thread are available?'

  A pouch landed at her feet. 'In there.'

  Lea watched Jared ride away before commenting, 'He must be a joy to follow into batde day after day.'

  'We live.'

  Determined to keep him talking while she knit the edges of his wound together, she said, 'Yes, I can tell by your scars that you live.'

  'I don't need to be pretty.'

  Actually, Rolfe was an attractive man, not as ruggedly handsome as her husband, of course, but she didn't know him well enough to tell him that. Instead, she teased, 'No, I can see where being pretty might lead to trouble.'

  Jared's man blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears. But he said nothing.

  'I need your knife, Sir Rolfe.'

  She used the weapon to cut the thread. 'Jared may very well keep you alive, but there is no need for him to act so surly about it afterwards.'

  'Would you rather he celebrated the deaths we cause?'

  Lea frowned. She hadn't thought of it like that before. 'No. I wouldn't.' She cut a slash into her chemise and tore off a strip to wrap around his arm. Knowing how her father and brother used to ignore their injuries, she suggested, 'Tiy not to tear the stitches too soon.'

  She handed him back his knife and reached for his hauberk.

  He snatched it from her grasp. 'I can get that, my lady. Thank you.'

  Lea rose and turned to stare at Jared. He'd ridden ahead just a little ways, stopping at a small copse of trees to dismount. With his back against the trunk of the largest tree, he watched her.

  Something in the intensity of his stance, the tilt of his head, sent a wave of desire washing over her. She flushed, wishing they were alone and not out in the open surrounded by men.

  Without taking her gaze from Jared's, she called out to Agatha, 'Do you need help?'

  'No, my lady, these are nothing more than a few scratches and bruises.'

  'Call out if you need me.'

  Lea slowly headed towards her husband. She wanted to see his expression. Did his eyes blaze with rage or hunger? Were his lips hiked into a sneer or tipped into the seductive half-smile that set her heart to racing?

  She wanted to stroke his face, to feel his lips brush against her palm before he dipped his head to steal a kiss.

  And she wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. The strong, steady beat of his heart pounding against hers would assure her they were indeed safe for now.

  Halfway across the distance his eyes widened. The sound of pounding hooves drawing closer pulled her out of the fog of desire.

  'Lea!'

  She turned to see who rode down on her, only to be swept from her feet to land face down across a hard, unyielding saddle.

  Jared threw himself on to his horse and raced after the brigand who'd just captured his wife.

  What had coaxed him to let down his guard in such a manner? Yes, Villaire was dead, but that didn't mean all danger to Lea had passed. Blackstone still lived.

  Certain that's who had taken his wife, he cursed.

  Rolfe quickly caught up to him. 1 should have been paying closer attention.'

  'We both should have.'

  He couldn't very well blame his man for something he should have seen to himself.

  The man ahead of them veered off toward the east, wringing another round of curses from Jared.

  'He's headed toward York.'

  Jared urged his horse to pick up the pace. He couldn't let the man take his wife into enemy territory. He wouldn't be there to stop York from marrying her off to someone else just for his own amusement.

  The man would do anything to thumb his nose at the church and Matilda. Having the means to do both at once would be far too tempting a treat for the earl to ignore.

  Once within shoudng distance, Jared yelled, 'Halt!'

  The kidnapper only leaned lower over Lea and put his spurs to the horse.

  Rolfe pulled his dagger free and took aim.

  'No!' Jared stopped him. 'If he drops Lea, she could be trampled beneath the horse.'

  Somehow he had to get the man to stop, then wrest his wife free. At this moment, anything was worth trying.

  Knowing the kidnapper's main goal was to get possession of Lea's keep, Jared shouted, 'I will raze Montreau and torch the land.'

  It was only an assumption, but he doubted if Blackstone was any more ambitious than Villaire when it came to physical labour. And there was litde that was more labour intensive, not to mention expensive, than rebuilding a keep.

  To his relief, the threat served to slow the man. Jared kept advancing as he added, 'There is no income without the land.'

  He had no idea how true that was any more. Once, Montreau's lands reaped great profit from sheep, crops and fishing. That was what had brought Lea's father to Warehaven in the first place

  —he'd wanted transportation for his wool.

  But with Charles Villaire in command for all these years, there was no way for him to know if that remained true or not.

  If not, hopefully, Lea wouldn't think to correct his statement.

  Whether she did or not mattered little as t
he man once again slowed his pace enough for Jared to catch up.

  'You wouldn't be that brazen.'

  Jared slid his dagger out of the scabbard, tightened his thighs against his horse and snagged the reins beneath his sword belt.

  'You have no idea how brazen I would be if forced.'

  Catching Blackstone off guard, Jared grabbed the back of Lea's gown, while he rammed his dagger through the man's side, aiming straight towards his black heart, then pushed Blackstone from the horse. 'You were warned to stay away.'

  Lea flailed, her arms flying and legs kicking as she sought solid purchase.

  Jared tightened his hold on her gown and grabbed the dangling reins of Blackstone's horse as he relaxed his legs and sat harder on to his saddle, slowing his own horse.

  Once both animals stopped, he grabbed Lea around her waist and dragged her up over the high pommel of Blackstone's horse.

  She slid her feet into the stirrups and leaned back against the cande, shaking from head to toe.

  'Are you injured?'

  She shook her head and stared at him. Her blue eyes were brilliant against the paleness of her face.

  'You sure you're all right?'

  Again she shook her head.

  Since she wasn't screaming or crying, he could only assume she was scared widess.

  Jared sheathed his dagger and dismounted. After motioning for Rolfe to give them some distance, he reached up to her, softiy ordering, 'Come here.'

  She nearly flew into his arms.

  He pulled her tight against his chest and soothed a hand down her hair. 'Shh, Lea, you're safe now.'

  She shook harder. His words seemed to upset her even more. At a loss as to how to calm her fears, he relaxed his embrace.

  'No.' Lea clung to him, as if she couldn't get close enough. 'Don't go.'

  'I'm going nowhere.' He rested his chin atop her head and swayed back and forth. 'I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened.'

  When she didn't respond, he asked again, 'Are you sure you aren't hurt?'

  'No. Yes. Just hold me.'

  'I am holding you.'

  She lifted her face away from his chest. 'I want to go home.'

  'That makes two of us.' He dropped a kiss on her forehead, then helped her mount Blackstone's horse.