by C. C. Wiley
It was the last thing that DePierce heard before he died.
He lifted Sabine into his arms. His legs trembled, forcing him to reclaim the chair. He held her close, kissing the temple where he had placed the tiny stitches, feeling the slight pulse that throbbed against his lips. He kissed the pink shells of her ears and pressed gentle kisses to her eyes. Fearing that he waited too long to tell her of his feelings, he pressed his ear to her breast and listened to the steady heartbeat. “My love,” he whispered into the nape of her neck.
Sabine touched the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair, caressing his neck.
Darrick raised his head from her breast and gazed longingly into the brown bottomless pools. His thumb trailed over the soft curve of her jaw. Drawn to the sweetness of her full pink lips, he traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb. Pressing his lips to hers, he murmured, “’Tis time we gathered our friends and family.”
Laying a gentle hand on the muscular bands of his arm, she stopped him before he moved away. “I love you.”
Speechless, Darrick enfolded her tightly in his arms, and silently carried his lady down to the deserted bailey below. His state of mind remained unsettled. Fear of losing her had nearly been his undoing. Did he pronounce his love? What if he were to lose her?
He would become a broken man without her.
Chapter 27
Sabine leaned her cheek against the wood railing of the rickety cart. She huddled with the motley crew of travelers, ignoring the pain as it bit into her flesh every time they bounced down the rutted path. Exhausted from their ordeal, the silent passengers swayed with the bumping wagon.
Had she made such a monstrous mistake? Was the tall broad-shouldered knight, sitting rigidly on the bench, really the same one who had held her in his arms, asking for her forgiveness? Had he truly whispered words of love or had she imagined it? She was certain she had felt his tears caressing her neck, his gentle kisses drawing her from the terror.
Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace she had dared to share the discovery of her love. And he had returned her love with brutish restraint. His stone-cold silence broke her heart.
Sighing, she conceded that his irritating control was only a portion of what made the man. Moreover, she had glimpsed another person hidden under the hardened knight’s armor, a gentle, warm-hearted man she had grown to love.
The wagon hit a rut, banging the passengers in the wagon bed together. Sabine glanced over at Darrick’s sister. Elizabeth’s bruised body was nestled in Taron’s protective arms. She gasped with every jolt of the wheel. She lay bundled in one of the few blankets clean enough for use. The linens left behind were threadbare, and riddled with vermin. With all the castle folk leaving in the middle of the night, Balforth had fallen into disarray.
Although weak and much thinner than Sabine remembered, Taron sat tall, stoically oblivious to the torturous cuts and bruises he had received. Always one to go searching for adventure, playing light of anything serious, his eyes were now haunted. Buried deep within were the memories of terror for the lady he loved. Fear had eaten at his pride. He knew the life of his child, and the lady he cherished, had been dangerously close to death.
The request for Elizabeth’s marriage annulment was sent to King Henry, but it had yet to be granted. His son, born out of an unlawful union, may yet bear the stain of bastard. However, he and Elizabeth had agreed that they would rather their son be labeled as such than tainted with the DePierce’s godforsaken name.
Sabine examined Sir Nathan’s hulking body huddled on the floor of the cart. He looked worse for wear. The filth had crusted to his broken body. His shirt and leggings, covered in muck. His matted hair hung in dirty clumps where rivulets of what the jeering guards had laughingly passed off as food and dumped upon his head. Any nourishment he consumed was lapped up like the dog they had called him. Fresh cuts joined the other scars on his knuckles. His muscled arm hung awkwardly from his shoulder where Hugh had dislocated it. Luckily, this was Hugh’s final damage before Nathan broke the sniveling cur’s neck with his one useful hand. Unfortunately, he was outnumbered and quickly recaptured. After being informed of his nephew’s death, DePierce had administered Nathan’s punishment with extreme hatred.
The brave knight had reported to Darrick with self-satisfaction that he would willingly endure the pain again. The sight of innocent children and women, held prisoner for the smallest infraction, released from the lower dungeon, was well worth any price that he had to pay. He was able to send them on their way before the few remaining henchmen noticed his escape from the two idiots, Gregor and Spurge. Those two were sure to have mighty headaches. Provided they lived after DePierce caught up with them.
She caught a glimpse of one of the watchtowers. There had been an argument amongst them whether to pull the castle down or let it stand. Elizabeth was the first to disagree, begging to burn it to the ground, pleading to pull the castle walls down stone by stone. Her desire to erase the misery caused by the DePierce family was greater than the natural order of pleasing the king. But Darrick stood his ground until they agreed to let the castle stand, at least until they received word from King Henry to do otherwise.
* * * *
Relief had flooded Darrick’s weary limbs when he found the haggard horse and half-rotted farmer’s cart. He had imagined he was strong enough to walk beside the beast but soon discovered that he was much weaker than he realized. With his strength seeping away, the tree trunks began to blur together as the cart wove its way around the juniper shrubs.
They moved cautiously through the wooded glen. There were no tracks to tell them where DePierce’s men-at-arms had hidden themselves. The tingling that raced up the back of his neck signaled that their safety was a fragile thing.
He gripped the reins and ignored the pain in his stiffening fingers. The failings of his body were an embarrassment to a knight. His hands had been far too slow in freeing his ankles from the bonds. His mind had been filled with desire for Sabine and the way her breasts felt as they pressed against his chest.
It ate at his pride that he had been caught unawares. It was his fault that she had borne DePierce’s vile touch for even a moment. He had allowed his discipline to slip. That very same discipline he depended on in battle to keep men and king alive had almost permitted his lady to perish.
He renewed his vow to protect Sabine and, if that meant shutting her out and denying any distracting emotions he felt for her, then he would. He might not be able to give her his heart, but by the saints, he would give her his sword arm. No matter how much it pained him.
Rhys’s threats kept echoing in his mind. Sabine’s life was still in peril. What did she possibly know that was a threat to the little man?
Where had Rhys hidden himself?
Darrick scanned the forest. Aware of the danger lurking in the shadows, he watched for any slight movement made by man or beast. Concern that the whole army of his men had perished in the ambush increased as they made their way to the tunnel’s entrance.
Sabine sat facing the front of the cart. Her head was close to his waist. He could feel the warmth of her body radiating through the cold damp air. No matter what he tried to think about, his mind kept drifting back to the woman. He swore he could feel her breath clear through his leggings, tickling the bristling hair on his thighs. He tugged his thoughts back. What is she quizzing me about?
The heat of her deep brown gaze bore through his defenses. He glanced down long enough to see the quick flash of dismay and confusion wash across her face before she ducked her head. By the time she raised it, a look of indifference was pasted upon her visage.
Her lack of interest lasted long enough for her eyes to flash with excitement. “There,” she said. Pointing to the shadowed juniper, her elbow caught his injured ribs.
He could not believe what he saw. Incredulous, he swung around to confront the woman who had the vexing
way of getting under his skin.
“Who the devil decided to leave a lamp burning for everyone to see?” His gaze shifted to the trees, anticipating another ambush. “’Tis certainly not Krell’s way.”
* * * *
Sabine watched the three strapping knights walk warily around the empty campsite positioned at the cave’s entrance. The men agreed there were signs that Krell and Lady Camilla went against their will. It was with small relief that they did not find a bloody trail to follow.
Her brother, Taron, had left his king’s court to search out a missing father and never discovered his whereabouts. His results were to become the prisoner of his family’s sworn enemy. Even with his recent escape, he was still a sad-eyed man who she did not recognize. Unable to return victorious with his beloved father, Sir William, he wore the shame of unfulfilled duty like a mantle.
Did Taron appreciate the precious gifts that he did have? Elizabeth’s love was evident. It positively glowed from every pore. Her love-filled eyes followed him while he paced the cave. Her adoration flowed over his wounds like warm honey.
The petite raven-haired woman was far gentler in character than Darrick had described. Perhaps the events of the last year had softened her shrewish temperament. Sabine stifled a snort. She could not bring herself to believe her brother brought about this change.
And Taron knew that he had been blessed with an heir. But, having yet to see his son, to hold Chance in his arms, he had yet to understand how wonderful the blessing truly was.
Sabine shifted to peek under the protection of her lashes. It appeared to disturb Sir Nathan Stave that he had been rescued by a mere slip of a maiden, far smaller and weaker that he. Sabine shrugged her shoulders. The lunatics at Balforth may have abused his body, but at least his pride was intact.
She wished Father had been there. Her heart felt leaden, unable to mourn the loss of his passing. She ached to shed the tears that held themselves at bay. If there was more to endure, she feared she would indeed shatter.
She craved the comfort of Darrick’s strongly banded arms to wrap around her and tell her everything was going to work itself out. The hungry yearning for his touch increased the pain, for the loss was more intense without his love. Aye, fool that she was, she had set her heart upon his love and came up cold and empty.
Since the death of DePierce, Darrick had distanced himself from her whenever possible. The effort that he put into the cold indifference was intolerable. Did he think she intended to press unwanted advances on his honey-sweetened lips? Or, by all that was holy, force her kisses upon his brow or dare to place his hand upon her breast?
She shook her head. Although she had helped them escape from DePierce, the stubborn man would not think to include her in his plans. Even her own brother had treated her as the pampered lady she once was.
Could they not comprehend that time was gone? A lifetime had passed since her head had touched her pillow. Sabine grimaced at the ridiculous thought. How could she have forgotten that her home lay in ashes? Ashes created by the fire that she had set. That coddled lady had been incinerated, along with the life she knew.
Would Taron ever forgive her? Not for the first time, she wondered how her townspeople had fared. Had they all perished that night? Squeezing her eyes tight, she struggled to stop the returning memories of the people held captive in the tower. Where had they taken themselves to hide? Will this nightmare ever end? Lord, keep us all in your protection.
Chapter 28
Darrick despised the tight walls that narrowed into nothing more than rabbit holes. When he stopped to get his bearings, Sabine slammed into his back. Again. For the hundredth time since they had set off towards Clearmorrow.
“Beg your pardon,” Sabine clipped out the terse apology. “Perhaps it would help if you made some type of motion before you stopped so abruptly.”
Darrick allowed a grunt to escape his compressed lips. For whatever unexplained reason, the sprite’s dark mood appeared to be matching his mood. To make matters worse, despite his determination, her slightest touch set off an explosion through his veins. He had to spend the next five minutes concentrating on cooling his blood.
“Really, Elizabeth dear, you need not press so hard.” Speaking gently, Sabine explained, “We must proceed slowly. To rush in the dark would be foolish if we cannot see where we are going.”
“I do beg your forgiveness.” Elizabeth’s teeth flashed in the weak lighting and crowded them a bit more, bumping into Sabine’s back.
Tension building, Darrick rolled his eyes heavenward, asking for forgiveness for whatever sin he may have committed to deserve a feather-headed sister. With the prayer sent to God above, he said, “By all that is holy, Elizabeth, give way to your impatience. Try to understand that we must travel with quiet and caution.”
Only a few short steps later, Elizabeth happened to push Sabine into Darrick’s back, again. Her feet tangled with his. Darrick turned to the blonde-headed man behind her. “Sir Taron, would you please see to the women? Try to control them.”
Taron snorted at the request. “You think me to control these women? This undisciplined one,” he jabbed a thumb at Sabine, “was never one to listen to reason. She has always been a pain in the backside.”
Lifting Elizabeth’s hand to his lips, he pressed her palm to his heart. “And this fair lady,” he whispered affectionately, “has my soul in the palm of her hand.” Looking helpless at the angry knight, he shrugged his shoulders. “There is naught I can deny her.”
Nathan chuckled at the speech. “’Tis a pretty story that you tell. Aye, perhaps you don’t know Elizabeth as well as you may think. I’ve witnessed the stormy temper she is capable of producing. Although tiny, she can yell the roof down if she chooses. She might be tame right now, but I will wager, if provoked, she still holds a temper.”
Darrick bristled at Taron’s harsh words directed towards Sabine. He clenched his fists, looking for a face to strike. If Sabine’s brother was fool enough to get in the way of his knuckles, then so be it. He fought for control before he caused any damage he would regret.
“Had Sabine listened to reason, she would not have taken her life in her hands to reach us. Nor would she have scaled a tower wall, climbing through the filthy shaft of the latrine. She overcame her fears of Balforth Castle to come and save our unworthy hides.” Darrick put his arm around her waist and pulled her protectively to his side. “I, for one, have seen no other to compare. Sister, or no, she’s a precious gem and I would thank you to treat her likewise.”
Sabine stared up at him. Her face flushed from his praise. He had yet to speak words of love, but he cared for her. She deserved a hundred compliments a day. Turning to press on, he continued to hold her hand as they led the way together.
Elizabeth stopped and held Taron’s face between her hands. She kissed his mouth, nibbling on his lips, covering the sharp angles of his face and the lean muscles on his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Returning her kisses, he replied, “Anything for you, my love.”
“I love you.”
“And I, you.” Taron placed a kiss upon her forehead. “Now let’s go find our son!”
Nathan rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “Proof that love is for fools. Give me a willing tavern wench anytime over that of the strings attached to a respectable lady.” He motioned with his good arm for the couple to move on.
“I hate to admit it, Lady Elizabeth,” he said grudgingly, “but if you desired Darrick to drop his icy distance then it looks like your plan worked. However, let us hope he manages to save his rage for someone other than your Taron’s pretty face.”
With his shoulder hanging awkwardly in the sling wrapped around his neck, Nathan motioned his bruised body towards them. Although Sabine had tried to slide the joint back into place, his shoulder was nevertheless painful to move.
“Why do you concern yourse
lf now, Elizabeth? You cared naught for Darrick’s feelings when Sir Damien had the drawbridge raised. God’s teeth! He even went so far as to insult him further by lowering the portcullis, shutting out his only son from your ill-fated wedding.”
Elizabeth froze. Her body trembling, she finally unlocked her jaw. “Nathan, you know that I did not have a say in the marriage. No say in my life! Hugh was not even present for the wedding. He was in France. I was forced to say the marriage vows with Rhys standing in as proxy.
’Twas that awful creature that urged the wedding take place quickly.
“He already had Father’s confidence. After all, Rhys convinced him that our mother had made a cuckold of him while he was away on the king’s business. In the beginning, theirs was a marriage that held no trust, let alone love. If truth be known, I think there were always questions in the back of Father’s mind regarding her fidelity.”
Walking up from behind, ready to command his worthless troops to move their arses, he overheard his sister’s comments. Darrick laid his hands upon her trembling shoulders and turned her to face him.
The hurt continued to pierce his armor. “It took only a few scattered words, rumors that have been repeated as far back as when I was serving as squire.” A sad smile, never quite reaching his eyes, lifted the corners of Darrick’s mouth. Glancing over at his tired friend, he shook his head. “Leave it, Nathan. ’Tis a long time ago and a wedding I am glad I missed. The future is what concerns us. Place your energies into finding my nephew and mother.”
Nathan clasped Darrick’s arm. “Aye, right you are. I believe we have wasted enough time on this.”
Darrick turned to give Elizabeth and Taron a long hard look, his eyes boring into their souls. “Your son needs you. I have grown attached to the child. It would not please me if he were harmed in any way.”
“You dare insult me by doubting that I love my son?” Elizabeth answered. “What else was I to do? I did what I could, praying that his life would be spared. Rhys sent me to the island, confident that Hugh would not find me. He swore I would find safety.”