He was furious with himself for speaking with her and even more furious that he had enjoyed the short conversation. It had made him realize how much he missed her, not that he needed reminding. He could think of nothing but her. She was on his mind day and night. And he had cursed himself most frequently for ordering her from his sight.
Seeing her today made him all the more aware of his betraying emotions. He only need look on her gentle features, her flaming hair and those thin lips that insisted on moving in the most erotic manner to realize he wanted her and all else be damned.
His loins had remained hard from his unexpected confrontation with her. The more she argued, the more she demonstrated her spirit, the more he wanted her. His main thought had been to reach down, swing her up and over his shoulder and disappear amongst the bushes with her and be done with it.
But his pride prevailed and until he could sort this mess out and settle it to his acceptance, he would not touch her.
The unsatisfied ache in his loins told him otherwise. And he had no doubt he would have trouble obeying his own dictates, but he would try… Lord, would he try.
He thought about the scar she wore and recalled that she had kept it concealed when he spoke with her. Did she feel shame? Did she hide the truth along with its reminder? And why not simply answer him and be done with it?
He had assumed the worst, and why not? What woman could fight off a man who welded a knife?
Faith.
Her name came easily to mind. If anyone possessed the strength, courage and will to survive, Faith did. She possessed a spirit that defied the common. She stood strong, confident and proud. She had faced the fires of hell and emerged the victor.
So why question her integrity?
He shook his head and swore beneath his breath. Perhaps it was his own integrity he questioned, and perhaps the answer was not to his liking.
One thing was certain, though… he would have his answers. He would see to it. Nothing would stop him.
He urged his horse forward. He suddenly wanted to be home at Shanekill Keep. Tonight he would sleep in his own bed.
Alone.
Colin joined him, ignoring his brooding mood. “You settled the dispute?”
“There was no dispute. She obeyed.”
“With help from you,” Colin said with a laugh.
“My men’s tongues wag as badly as women.”
“They eagerly await the next match.”
Eric shot him an angered glance.
“Do not blame me,” he said, holding his hands up in a helpless gesture. “I but deliver the news.”
“Gossip is more like it.”
Colin grinned. “Gossip makes for good entertainment.”
“Gossip serves no purpose but to hurt and shame.”
“That it does,” Colin said, seriously. “Perhaps it is a good thing to remember.” He rode off, leaving Eric to ponder his words.
They arrived at the Keep just before nightfall. Eric rode ahead, his excitement at returning home too much for him to contain. He longed to lay his eyes on what was his. What he had fought so long and hard for and what he would continue to fight to keep.
He directed his horse up the small rise slowly, anticipating the first sight of his home, and his breath caught in his throat. It was more beautiful than he had remembered.
The setting sun blazed over his land and painted the area a vivid gold. The land glowed in splendor; some of the fields remained pregnant with rich crops ready for fall harvest. The outer walls to the castle were complete, as he had directed. The large trail of mounted stones wrapped protectively around the Keep and all its buildings, and while his home remained under construction, the sight of it filled him with immense pleasure and pride.
The gatehouse was well guarded by three of his men, even though the portcullis remained open. Men and women worked the fields, carts carried their burdens and men guarded the surrounding area with keen eyes, protecting what was his and theirs. They had fought just as hard for a home, and their pride was just as evident.
Colin joined him on the rise. “The men have done well.”
“Not an easy task, since I insisted on stone inside of wood.”
“But a more sensible one,” Colin said.
“War and battle are adept teachers.”
“Let us hope they request no more lessons.”
Eric nodded. “Agreed.”
“The men are anxious and push hard these last few miles.”
“We will be settled inside the walls before nightfall. See that Borg is taken ahead and made comfortable.”
“I have already instructed such. He does well,” Colin acknowledged.
“Better than I expected.”
“Faith is a—” Colin stopped suddenly.
Catching the look of disbelief in Colin’s eyes, Eric followed his line of vision.
Faith was absent from the wagon and nowhere to be seen. Not trailing behind it, or a few yards in front. She was simply nowhere in sight.
“I will go find—”
Eric never let Colin finish. “No, I will go find my wife.”
“But—” Colin attempted to protest.
“Enough,” Eric ordered sternly. “She disobeyed my command and was warned of the consequences. See to the men.”
Eric rode off and Colin rode directly to the wagon. “Where is she?”
“I could not stop her,” Borg said with a weary shake of his head. “She grew upset when she called for Rook and he did not respond. She feared him in trouble after several useless attempts and hurried off against my protests.”
“Eric went after her,” Colin said.
Borg smiled. “And who do you think will win this skirmish?”
Colin laughed. “My coin is on the devil.”
“More you the fool,” Borg said. “Mine is on the healer.”
“I will grow rich before this ends,” Colin said confidently.
“You will be a beggar, your coins squandered on foolish bets.”
“The devil never loses,” Colin reminded.
“On this I am counting.” Borg smiled and closed his eyes contentedly.
Chapter Eleven
“Rook! Rook!” Faith called frantically for her dog.
She had seen him wander in amongst the dense bushes and brute saplings that had bordered the road they traveled on only a short time ago. Something had to be wrong. Rook always answered her summons. Her concern grew as she made her way deeper amongst the dense foliage. She shoved branches out of her way and continued to call out to him, but she failed to receive a response.
Faith stopped a moment and listened, thinking she had heard a noise. Birds chirped, branches rustled in the cool autumn breeze, and then . . . the distinct snap of a branch. She turned just in time, certain the sound had come from behind her.
Her husband bore down on her with such speed and agility that she had not a second to breathe. He swept her up and over his shoulder in one graceful movement, and turned and headed back to the road.
“No, stop!” she cried and beat him on the back, for all the good it did. He was solid muscle and she had no doubt her hand would be sorer than his back. She stopped the useless pounding and pleaded for his help.
“Please, Eric, help me find Rook. He must be hurt or he would have answered my summons . . . please.” Her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, but she continued, her voice anxious. “I know I disobeyed you and for that I am sorry, but Rook means the world to me. He was there for me when no one else was. When I was ignored and shunned, he walked proudly by my side. He made me laugh when I thought I never would again and he loves me, truly loves me as I do him. He would never desert me no matter the trouble and I would do the same for him.”
His steps slowed considerably until he finally came to a halt and gently placed her on the ground.
“How did you come by Rook?” he asked.
There was no time to wonder over his curiosity. She simply answered his question. “After the attack, m
y father decided I needed protection so he brought Rook to me. He was but a puppy with big floppy ears and a wet sloppy tongue, but I loved him on sight and we have been inseparable since that day.”
“Why did your father not assign one of his guards to you?”
She answered honestly with no thought to herself; her only concern was for Rook and his safety. “He felt a shamed woman could not be trusted with any man, so he chose a dog for my protector.”
Fury shot into his blazing blue eyes, his jaw grew taut and the veins in his neck looked near to exploding. “He said this to you?”
“On many occasions.”
He looked about to speak, but seemed suddenly to have a change of mind. Instead he grabbed for her hand. “Where did you last see Rook?”
She grasped onto him, grateful for his offer of help and grateful to feel the strength of his large hand wrapped protectively around her small one. “He wandered into this section of bushes and trees as we passed by it.”
“Does he always come to you when you call him?”
Faith chewed at her bottom lip in nervous thought.
“Tell me,” Eric ordered.
“There is one thing that might delay his response to my summons.”
“And what might that be?”
Faith tried not to smile. “Berries.”
“Berries?” Eric repeated incredulously.
“Rook has a penchant for berries. When he was a puppy I would take him with me to gather herbs and pick berries. He would eat most of the berries before we returned.”
“And you did not chastise him for this poor behavior.”
She shook her head. “I could not. He so enjoyed himself that I did not have the heart to scold him.”
“Women,” Eric said with a rough shake of his head. “So he could very well be sitting in a berry patch feasting to his heart’s content.”
“That is possible,” she reluctantly admitted.
“And you risk life or limb for a berry-loving dog?”
“He would do no less for me,” she said softly.
“That I will certainly see to, and I will see to rectifying his poor behavior.”
“He is mine and I will punish or reward him,” she said firmly.
His curt words warned. “You both belong to me.”
She did not argue; it was pointless. He spoke the truth. She and Rook were his property and he could do with them as he chose. She only hoped he would not rescind his offer of help.
“Stay beside me,” he ordered as he turned and moved amongst the foliage.
Faith had no choice but to remain by his side. He held firmly to her hand and she wondered if his grasp was more possessive than protective.
She found it strange that he did not call out to Rook, but discovered his reason soon enough. They came to a small clearing and he abruptly stopped.
“Rook!” Eric bellowed his name so loudly that Faith could have sworn the trees shivered.
Within seconds they heard him; he was on a run and barking.
Faith was so relieved, she did not stop to think of her actions, she simply threw her arms around her husband’s neck and planted a thankful kiss on his open mouth. And that was the problem.
As soon as her lips connected with his, as soon as he felt her body collide with his, as soon as her tongue touched his, he surrendered. His arms slipped around her and crushed her to him. His mouth feasted as hungrily as hers and neither of them took note of Rook who stopped beside the embracing couple, sat, and finished the mouthful of berries he had been enjoying.
They stopped simultaneously, their lips parting reluctantly, their eyes heavy with desire and their bodies aching to surrender. Eric rested his forehead against hers, attempting to control his erratic breathing and not at all wanting to part from her.
Faith fought to calm her racing heart and ease the sensual quiver low in her belly that warned she wanted more from her husband, much more.
They snapped apart at Rook’s loud bark.
Eric glared down at the large dog, whose berry-stained tongue hung from the side of his mouth. Faith instantly fell to her knees beside the huge beast and threw her arms around him.
“Bad dog,” she said, “bad dog.” All the while she hugged and kissed him.
Eric was about to give him the reprimand he deserved but instead found himself smiling. The two made an oddly delightful pair, Rook a breed so mixed no one could distinguish his true line and with colors ranging from a golden brown to dark paws and ears and a face . . .
Eric shook his head. Rook possessed the biggest, saddest eyes he had ever seen on an animal and that long tongue of his was a weapon he delighted in using on the most unsuspecting person. One lick and you were finished. He caught you in his special spell and you instantly cared for the dumb dog. Though Eric had learned he was not as dumb as he seemed and those large teeth of his could do damage if provoked.
“You must come when I call,” Faith instructed and Rook answered with a wet tongue to her face, leaving her cheek stained with berry juice.
Eric suddenly grew annoyed with himself. He had commanded her to keep from his sight and here he was breaking his own decree.
“Enough,” he said angrily, startling the pair.
They both looked wide-eyed at him.
“Come,” he ordered snappishly and turned to walk away.
“Eric.”
Her soft, hesitant call brought him to an abrupt halt and he silently swore he would not turn around. He heard her approach, heard her small feet crush the dry pine needles that carpeted the ground and heard her breathing, steady yet anxious. He had attuned himself to sounds so that when he was in battle he could hear an opponent approach, hear a nearby weapon slice through the air, or hear the fearful breathing of his enemy.
But he was not engaged in a battle and Faith was not his enemy. How much easier this whole situation would be if that were so. This was but a skirmish . . . and Faith?
Faith was the prize.
“Thank you,” she said with a gentle hand to his back.
Her innocent touch caused a sensuous shiver to run through him and he closed his eyes against the unexpected sensation. “Teach him to behave or I will,” he said and stormed off, more angry with himself than his wife.
Faith and Rook took their time catching up with everyone, though she noticed that Colin kept a close watch on her steady but slow progress. The incident with Rook haunted her thoughts; actually it was the kiss she and Eric had shared that haunted her senses more than her thoughts.
She could not make sense of her eager and urgent response to him. How could she desire a man who ordered her to keep from his sight? How could she crave his lips and his intimate touch? She must surely be mad, though so must Eric.
His kiss was filled with as much passion and urgency as her own, that he could not deny. Even though innocent, she was not ignorant and knew full well when a man hungered for a woman. Eric was hungry for her. And truth be told, she was hungry for him as well.
She was relieved when he had left her and Rook to walk back alone, though he had waited until they had made their way to the open path. He rode off then, though not far enough that he could not keep them in his sight and only when she was in the safety of others did he take himself off. Colin appeared shortly afterwards and had since not let her from his sight.
What chance had she with Eric? He was a proudful warrior who had been deceived. He would not take such an insult lightly. His pride would demand retribution, but what of his emotions? How would he quell or satisfy his desires for her?
And how would she prevent herself from falling in love with him? She knew herself too well to think this anything less than love. She cared for this man, this proudful warrior who had fought so hard to gain respect. She did not wish to be a hindrance or an embarrassment to him. If he could not accept her with pride of who she was, then she did not wish to remain his wife.
Faith released a heavy sigh and Rook barked.
“Feeling sorry
for myself,” she admitted to the dog that looked up at her with large, loving eyes.
Rook barked again.
“Allow me my time to sulk,” she complained.
Rook would have none of her complaints; he barked again and rushed from her side, sniffing the ground for a stick. His teeth clamped down on one and he hurried to her side, tossing the thick stick up at her.
She caught it. “So you will not let me wallow in my own misery, will you? Fine, we will play as you wish.”
She threw the stick, though not far and Rook fetched it with joy, returning it to her to start again. They continued on and soon Faith was running along with Rook laughing and chasing the stick.
Eric stood on the partially finished battlement and watched his wife and her faithful companion playing. He grew annoyed at their joyful antics and grumbled angrily beneath his breath. He raised a hand to signal Colin in the distance, and his friend nodded in acknowledgment.
He turned away and took himself off to see to other matters, but tonight—tonight he would have definite answers to his disturbing questions.
o0o
Faith was stunned at the quarters she was shown. The room was large, the bed sufficient for two, a table and two chairs sat against one wall, two rich tapestries graced the other walls and large chests stood open and empty, waiting for her use. Three tall, iron candle stands beautifully crafted in design occupied three areas of the room, the thick candles they held providing more than sufficient light. This was obviously the master chambers and she was uncertain if there had been a mistake in the servants directing her here. But Bridget, with a pleased smile on her full face, was already busily seeing to unpacking Faith’s meager belongings.
“My lady, sit,” Bridget said, clearing off garments from a chair near the tapestry that Faith realized concealed a narrow window. “I have directed the servants to bring refreshments and afterwards I will arrange for a bath.”
Faith did as Bridget directed, physically and emotionally drained from the journey. She realized a bath sounded much too appealing to turn down.
Rook found a rush mat to his liking near the end of the bed and plopped down on it, immediately drifting off to sleep.
The Irish Devil Page 12