by The Prisoner
“If you continue we will not make it to the pool,” Brian told her.
Constance noticed then his manhood had risen in response to her perusal. She reddened.
Brian grabbed her hand and led her to the clear, inviting pool of water at the bottom of the three waterfalls.
“Mayhap, I should dip only my feet,” Constance suggested, peering nervously into the depths.
Brian nodded. “You could.”
Constance started to sigh with relief.
“If you want to be a coward,” he continued, shrugging.
“A coward is it? Very well, my lord, let us enter this freezing water.”
Brian stepped toward her and before she could fathom what he had in mind, he scooped her naked body into his arms.
“I’ll have you the entire time,” he assured her, brushing her mouth briefly with his.
She encircled his neck with her arms. “Do what you will, my lord.”
He stepped into the water and though he did not protest, Constance heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Is it very cold?” she whispered against his chest.
“Aye,” he admitted, his laugh a low rumble.
“Mayhap…”
Brian cut off her words with another kiss, this one not quite as brief as the last.
“Hmm.” Constance sighed and rested her head against him.
Brian was up to his waist now in the pool and Constance’s feet became immersed.
“Ah,” she cried, kicking up her feet to keep them out of the frigid water. “Are you mad?”
“Nay, just thick skinned.”
“That’s thick skulled,” Constance said.
“It’s really not so bad. I’m already getting used to it,” Brian said.
“More likely your extremities are going numb.”
“I never knew you were such a complainer.”
“Me?” Constance cried in outrage. “A complainer? How dare you! Put me down in this pool.”
“Constance…”
“At once! I’ll show you who is a complainer.”
She struggled out of his arms and dropped down into the water, still clinging on for support.
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to,” Brian protested.
“I do so,” Constance insisted. The frigid water touched her like fingers of ice. On her backside it was colder than her feet. She pressed against him, trying to absorb his warmth. “‘Tis not so bad.”
“Then why are your teeth chattering?” Brian tilted her chin so she could look directly into his eyes.
“Because I’m freezing.” Constance thumped him on the shoulder. “Brian, I’ve had enough swimming.”
He grinned. “We haven’t even started.”
“You can show me when the weather is warmer.”
“This pool never gets warmer than this, love,” Brian warned her.
“Well.” Constance shrugged, leaping fully into his arms. “Then I will simply admire its beauty. Will I really need to know how to swim?”
Brian laughed. “All right, all right. Out we go.” He walked back up out of the pool to the dirt where they’d left their clothes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold,” Constance said, snuggling into his larger cloak he held out.
“I thought you weren’t a complainer.”
“Do be quiet. You don’t have to be so smug, you know.”
“Don’t I?” Brian teased. He sat down, wrapping the cloak around them both, pulling her close.
“I don’t think you’re human,” Constance said. “How else do you explain you aren’t even blue?” She shivered.
“I’m used to it. I told you I came here often.”
Constance nodded. “Aye, not always for innocent reasons,” she mocked.
He leaned his chin on her head. “Jealous?”
“Why should I be?”
“No reason at all.”
“Unless, you’ve been here recently with some other wench.” Constance sniffed.
“There is no other wench, Constance.” He ruffled her hair. “I do not think of you as a wench.”
She tilted her head back and studied him. “What do you think of me as?”
“A fine and beautiful lady.”
Constance sighed, an overwhelming warmth seeping down to her bare toes. “It amazes me that you think I am beautiful.” Brian did not respond. “Brian?”
He met her gaze, his midnight eyes dark and fathomless. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
Her breath caught in her throat and Constance did not know how to respond. She thought her chest would explode from the leaping her heart was doing.
But Brian did not wait for some sort of response from her. He looked up at the sky and pronounced it time to leave.
“Do we have to?” Constance asked, disappointment making her pout.
Brian unwrapped himself from the cloak and stood to dress. “I am afraid so, sweetheart. ‘Tis growing late and we must get back before nightfall.”
“I suppose you are right.” Constance reached for her own gowns.
“If we do not return soon, no doubt my brothers will come looking for us,” Brian said.
She frowned. “I had not thought, but you are right. I love your family, Brian, they are my own family, really, but they do get in the way.”
“That they do,” he agreed. He had finished with his own clothes and he helped her pull on first her kirtle, then her surcoat.
Constance slipped her feet into her slippers and then stood on tiptoes to kiss him. “This was wonderful, thank you.”
“The pleasure was mine, my lady.” He bowed, then helped her on to Valiant once more. “‘Tis not over though.”
“Nay?” She snuggled against him when he mounted the horse.
“I told you when we returned we would warm ourselves by the hearth,” Brian reminded her.
“Ah, you did.”
“And then when we are done, we will yet warm each other in better ways,” Brian whispered close to her ear.
Constance shivered in anticipation. “I can hardly wait to return.”
He kissed her ear.
“Can we not skip the hearth?” she asked, her fingers tracing circles on his muscular legs.
Brian laughed at her wicked suggestion and urged Valiant forward.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Constance woke with a start.
The room was dark and Brian’s arms were still around her.
“Hush, it’s all right,” Brian said in the darkness, soothingly stroking her back.
She caught her breath and laid her head on his bare chest. It was all right, she reminded herself.
“Did you dream?” he asked.
She nodded against him.
“Want to tell me about it?”
And before she could change her mind, Constance nodded again. She felt it was time.
She exhaled slowly and rose to stare down into Brian’s face. In the darkness she could not make out his features. She couldn’t decide whether that would be a good thing or not.
As though he could read her mind, Brian asked, “Do you want me to light the sconce?”
“Aye,” she whispered. He rose from his bed and walked to the small side table, then the wall. After a moment the room was illuminated with a yellow glow.
Brian glanced at the cold hearth across the room. “Do you want a fire?”
“Nay, come back to bed,” Constance urged, holding the furs aside.
She waited until he was comfortably ensconced, the furs engulfing both of them. He had situated himself so he was sitting up against the wall, his expression expectant.
Constance opened her mouth on a jest he needn’t look as though he expected her to speak the fate of the world, but closed it, realizing the time was past for jests. At least on this subject.
He did not seek to rush her. He just waited.
“The dream starts out nicely,” Constance broke the heavy silence. “We are at this large gatherin
g, you and I. We perform a courtly dance. We are both laughing.” She shuddered. “But then it, it becomes twisted.”
“How?”
“The faces of the other dancers around us become distorted, pain-filled. They begin to scream and cry and beg for our help.” Constance took a deep breath. “Then, they disappear altogether and the room is empty save for you and I. We run around, looking for them, but we cannot find them. And then there is only one door out of the room. We have no choice but to go through it. But when we do…”
“What?” Brian prodded, when she did not continue.
“Finius Loutrant waits for us,” Constance said, her throat raw from the effort to speak the vile man’s name. “He pulls me into his arms, and then somehow, you are on the ground in chains and he is mocking you, threatening you. I usually awaken just as he is about to k-kill you.”
Brian’s smile was filled with tenderness. His hand reached out and he ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “‘Twas only a dream, love. He won’t hurt you.”
“I am more concerned he might hurt you,” Constance said, voicing her greatest fear.
His dark eyes grew troubled for a moment. “He fell from that tower.”
“Aye, he did,” Constance agreed. “But we both know what we are thinking, Brian.”
“Loutrant lives, somehow, he survived,” Brian said, his voice cold.
Constance met his gaze. “Aye, I do not know how, but he does. We have seen the evidence.”
“At first I thought mayhap someone wanted to make me believe he lived. His half-brother, for instance,” Brian said, echoing his brother’s speculation.
“I had not thought of that. But he is so young.”
“Aye, but he has always been under Finius’ thumb.” Brian shook his head. “I gave up that notion, though, first when I found his ring and then when a few nights ago I saw what I am nearly certain was Loutrant.”
“What are we to do?”
“I honestly do not know,” Brian said. “We must be on our guard. I will need to warn my brothers and Trevor.”
“Brian, I’m afraid.”
He pulled her into his arms, pushing her head down to his chest. “I will not let him harm you, I vow it.”
Constance nodded, sighed. She knew he meant his words, and she trusted him with her life, but her heart raced frantically with doubts. What could they do against one so treacherous?
“There is still more we need to talk about, love,” Brian said, his breath moving her hair.
“Me and Loutrant.” Constance knew she needed to talk about the abuse she suffered and her own feelings of guilt, but she didn’t know if she could now, or ever.
“Aye, we must talk about this,” Brian agreed. “And many things.” He gently stroked her hair. “Once, I thought I could never speak of what happened, and I still do not know if I can talk openly about it with everyone else, but with you, it is different. And I want you to feel the same with me.”
“I do.”
“I am glad. You told me some of it when you brought me those disgusting meals in the dungeon.”
“Aye,” Constance said. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. Lord, she needed his strength. “You know most of it, I think. How he tricked me as the minstrel, how I ran away with him, thinking how romantic and exciting it was.” She heard the self-loathing in her own voice.
“He could be charming when he wanted to be,” Brian replied. “Katherine talked sometimes. He fooled her father, she said. Her father would never have arranged their marriage if he’d known what sort of a man Loutrant was, but he showed a different mask to Katherine than he did to most other people.”
“Aye, exactly. And he had the face of an angel. ‘Twas not until we reached his castle I realized how foolish I had been. It was too late.”
“You could not have guessed,” Brian said. “Loutrant is ever the trickster.”
Constance nodded. “He tricked you into coming to his castle, too, didn’t he?”
“Aye. With a note from Katherine. He forced her into sending it.”
“Why does he hate you so?” she whispered against him.
“So many reasons. The greatest being Katherine’s love for me.” He sighed regretfully. “I was young and foolish. I thought I could play the hero to her abusive husband. It was never my intent to fall in love with her, but I did.”
Constance leaned her head back to look at him. “Do you think you truly loved her or did you love being her savior?”
Brian grimaced. “That was part of it, I think. I have always gravitated to women who needed me.”
Constance swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She was Katherine all over again to Brian. The realization hit her hard. Another woman who appeared to need him. Another victim who needed his heroism.
“Constance?” Brian frowned. “Why does it feel like I am holding a block of ice?”
She didn’t know how to voice her new fear. But the last thing she wanted to be was another Katherine. And yet the abuse she suffered at the hands of Loutrant wasn’t different than what was suffered by his wife.
Constance shook her head and pushed at his chest to get away, suddenly sure she wanted to make a hasty exit.
Brian seized her arms, gently but firmly. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my room,” Constance said, swallowing the rising bile.
“Why?”
“It’s late.” She averted her gaze.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Brian took her chin in his hand. “What is wrong with you?”
“Tis naught,” Constance blurted out. “I am just tired.”
Brian narrowed his eyes. “Sleep here.”
“Brian.” Constance threaded her fingers through his.
“I don’t think you are her,” he said, his voice flat, emotionless.
“I…I know,” she said after a moment. Her throat was suddenly thick with the tears that flowed. How could she put her shame into words without sounding like the victim she hated so much to be?
“Loutrant, he—he used me in s-so many ways,” Constance told him.
“Aye, he is vile and evil beyond words,” Brian replied.
“I know, but, I wonder if I could have stopped what he did to me,” she whispered.
“He is a madman, sweetheart. He could have easily killed you.” Brian brushed the locks out of her eyes. “The Lord be praised he did not.”
“But…but did I do something to deserve what happened to me?” Constance asked, her voice breaking. “I think about it all the time.”
“Nay, angel. He took you against your will. Imprisoned you. Forced you into servitude.” Brian pulled her into his arms. “There was naught you would have, could have, done to deserve the torment he put you through.”
“I did go willingly with him,” Constance whispered, stirring the hairs on his chest.
“I know, but you could not have known. You didn’t do anything wrong, Constance.”
She wiped a giant tear near her eye. “Then why do I still think about him so much? Why do I dream? Why do I think every day, is there something I could have done differently?”
“Look at me, Constance,” Brian ordered. He waited for her to do so before he continued. Her face had become blotchy with red patches from her crying. “I have thought the same so many times. I still have nightmares, too. Didn’t you tell me not to dwell on what cannot be changed?”
Constance met his gaze. Her bottom lip trembled with uncertainty.
“We’ve both been living in the past, haven’t we, angel?” Brian asked, kissing her lips. “There is little we can do to change what choices we made or what happened to us. We can only make sure they don’t happen again.”
Constance’s mouth widened in a genuine smile and she held his hand to her cheek. “You have been listening to what I’ve been saying.”
“It was bound to sink in sooner or later,” Brian replied with a grin. “The point is, it applies to both of us, sweetheart.”
She sighed. “I k
now. I do, I guess. You know, it’s easier to tell someone else what they are doing is wrong then to see it about yourself.”
“Aye, it is.”
Constance pushed Brian gently so he was lying down once more. She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his middle.
“When I was growing up, with first my father to protect me, and then your brothers,” Constance said. “I never expected I could end up a prisoner of a vile man like him. I would have thought someone like Katherine weak.”
Brian stroked her hair. “Katherine did have her weaknesses. She might have done things to help herself with Loutrant. She couldn’t bring herself to do them.”
“It must have been hard for her, though. The church does not condone a woman going against her husband. She belongs to him,” Constance pointed out.
“Aye, I know.” Brian’s sigh shook them both. “I failed her.”
“You?” Constance shook her head. “Nay.”
“To be a true hero one needs to be objective,” Brian explained. “I became too involved with her to think clearly. It cost me my edge and Katherine her life. For those reasons, I will always mourn.”
“Mayhap,” Constance said. “But I know you didn’t deliberately fall for another man’s wife.”
“You are correct. I didn’t know at first, but when I did, I did not stop myself, even still.”
“Loutrant was not a normal husband,” Constance said. “Nor was he a normal man.”
“Is not,” Brian said quietly. “He is out there somewhere, angel.”
“I know.” Constance clung tightly, her body shaking. “What next?”
Brian thought about it for several hurried beats of their combined hearts. He knew very well he couldn’t let Loutrant haunt their lives forever. If they were to have the happy existence they both deserved, if they were to have a life and a family together, as Brian now hoped was possible, Finius Loutrant would have to be dealt with once and for all.
Brian broke the heavy silence at last. “I have to kill him.”
****
Constance took a large bite of the crusty bread she held in her hand. It was still a while before the midday meal and she had overslept and missed breakfast.
Around her the servants in the kitchen bustled about trying to get everything ready for the biggest meal of the day. Constance watched two young girls preparing fish and she licked her lips in anticipation. Her stomached growled.