Eric reached for a cloth on a nearby bench, dipped it in the tub and wiped away the streaks of dirt that remained on her face. “Why? Answer me that?”
With his tone more neutral and his blue eyes tempered, Faith discussed her adventure. “I felt I was missing something when I first looked upon Nora and I could not rest until I took another look.”
“And what did you find?”
“Rage,” she said with a shiver.
He looked at her, confused but also curious.
“The scar was jagged.”
“Aye, it is,” he agreed before Faith dunked her head to soak and cleanse her thick hair.
He helped her to squeeze the wetness from the heavy strands.
“My scar is thin and almost a perfect line. My attacker made his intentions clear with the path his weapon took. I knew if I did not fight back he would dig deeper and deeper along where his knife had already traveled until he released the evil he insisted resided within me. My attacker possessed madness. Nora’s attacker possesses rage.”
Eric thought on the wisdom of his wife’s words. She was right. Each attack was different and therefore caused by two different people, though made to resemble the other.
Eric nodded slowly. “The person who killed Nora had to have been aware of your attack.”
It was her turn to nod. “Precisely.”
“Hurry and finish,” he ordered, “before the water cools and returns your chill.”
She did as he directed and when she was done he stood holding a large towel to wrap her in, and he did just that. He carried her to the bed and rubbed his hands over the towel so it would seep the wetness from her skin.
“Promise me you will not act foolishly again.”
With her arms tucked snugly beneath the towel she was at his mercy and his heated blue eyes confirmed it was intentional. But she did not fear the devil; she loved him and she knew he loved her so she answered honestly, “I cannot.”
His jaw tightened, his nostrils flared and he shook his head. “How did I know that would be your answer.”
“Because I speak the truth,” she said with a tender smile.
He smiled as well. “Another answer I was aware of.”
“You know me well, my lord.”
He skimmed her lips with his. “Not well enough, or I would know how to control that stubborn will of yours.”
“I am not stubborn; I am determined.”
He laughed. “You play with words, but that does not change your tenacious nature.” His smiling face grew serious. “I love you too much to lose you; please do as I ask.”
How could she deny him? He did not demand or command. He simply expressed his true feelings and fear to her and it would be most unkind to deny him.
“As you wish, my lord,” she answered sincerely.
“Thank you, dear wife,” he said and captured her mouth in a kiss that had her wrapped body wiggling to get free.
“Eric,” she protested with a cry when his hand moved beneath the towel and tormented her most feverishly.
“A fit punishment,” he said with a laugh and continued to tease her into a feverish frenzy. It was not long before his own body felt the same passionate frenzy and they were soon naked and wrapped solidly around each other.
She helped him slip into her. She loved the feel of him in her hand, hard and thick and silky smooth, and she took her time, her fingers stroking in a fashion that ignited his pleasure and her own.
“Enough,” he said harshly. “I will be inside you when I spill myself.”
Her legs spread slowly in invitation and he accepted, entering her with swift precision and setting a fast and furious pace they both maintained until they burst one after the other in a final breath-stealing, body-shuddering climax.
Faith fell asleep within mere minutes of Eric slipping off her. She had had little sleep the previous night and with this morning’s unexpected adventure exhaustion finally caught up with her.
Eric tucked the blanket around her. She lay on her stomach, her head nearly buried beneath a pillow and her breathing close to a light snore. He moved off the bed gently so as not to disturb her and dressed all the while, keeping his eyes on her.
He did not know what he would do if she were not in his life. He had grown so accustomed to her presence that he did not think he could function without her by his side. He would have once thought that notion ridiculous. Any woman can warm a man’s bed, as warriors often bragged, but as his father tried to explain to him, only one woman can touch a man’s heart. He had not understood those words until now. Faith touched his heart. He felt lonely when she was not near and he ached all too often for her touch. He had fallen deeply in love with a woman who possessed the strength, courage and faith to love the Irish devil.
And he had no intentions of seeing any harm come to her.
After he was fully dressed he walked to the door and opened it, finding Rook spread across the doorway, as he knew he would be. He leaned down and gave the large dog a rub behind his ear. “Good boy, now go get Borg and Bridget.”
Rook woofed softly, as if understanding his master slept, and hurried off.
Borg arrived shortly, along with Bridget. With a quick request for Bridget to watch over Faith and for Borg to post a guard at the bedchamber door, he hurried off.
Colin was entering the hall at the same anxious speed as Eric. “The cleric from Donnegan keep has arrived.”
“Good; we will talk with him now,” Eric said, and the two men headed for the front doors that Colin had just entered.
“Lord Eric!” came a shrill call.
Eric and Colin both winced at Lady Terra’s high-pitched voice.
Eric turned. “Another time, Lady Terra… I have business to see to.”
Her dark eyes widened and she marched straight toward the two men. “You have the audacity to summon my husband here and then the ignorance to ignore him. If you do not tell us of the reason for your summons we will take our leave today.”
Colin took a step back, aware that Eric’s temper was about to erupt.
And it did.
“You will take your leave when I order you to,” Eric said sharply, walking forward to meet the woman who stopped in her brisk approach and took several steps back as he continued to advance on her. “You will do as I direct. You will speak with a respectful and civil tongue to my wife. And you will learn why I summoned you when I am ready to tell you. Until then you will obey my every command or suffer the consequences.”
Lady Terra turned pale, trembled and remained silent.
Eric insisted on a response. “Do you understand me?”
She nodded slowly.
“Then I expect no more problems from you or your husband.”
He turned to leave, stopped and approached her once again. The fearful woman looked near to fainting.
“You will not trouble my wife with any of your petty matters. She will speak to you when and if she wishes.”
Lady Terra nodded most vigorously this time.
Colin followed Eric out of the keep but stole a backward glance to see Lady Terra hit the floor in a dead faint.
Eric and Colin walked toward the chapel on the castle grounds. It was a simple structure, made of wood and covered by a thatched roof. The outside had recently been completed; rows of benches had been added inside and an altar of wood graced with fine embroidered coverings had been installed. A beautiful cross that had been hand carved by one of the castle carpenters hung on the wall behind the simple altar and the women kept the small room lit with a wealth of candles.
The only missing item was a permanent priest. Eric supposed that was why so many were anxious to seek Father Peter out to hear their confessions and receive the sacrament, which would explain why a line formed outside the chapel door.
“The priest announced that he would say a special mass tomorrow morning and hear confessions until dark,” Colin explained.
“There is a confession I wish to hear,” Eric said,
and not caring who he disturbed in his pursuit of a madman marched straight into the chapel, people moving out of his path without hesitation, though with respect. The priest would save their souls, but the devil would protect their lives.
Father Peter rose from the bench where he sat, as did Mary, whose confession he had heard.
Eric made his apologies to Mary for the interruption. She bobbed her head respectfully, explained she was finished and hurried out of the chapel. Colin closed the door after Mary departed and stood in front of it.
“I am most pleased to see that the lord of this keep wishes to confess his sins,” the priest said solemnly.
He was a small, reed-thin man, and he possessed large sorrowful eyes that were more filled with despair than hope. His brown hair was so thin you could see his scalp and his brown coarse wool robe hung loosely on his frail frame. He did not appear to be strong enough to fight anyone, but then Eric had learned that looks could deceive.
Eric smiled pleasantly. “Father Peter, there is not enough time to hear the devil’s confession.”
The little man was startled by his admission. “My son, do not speak such blasphemy. The devil resides in us all and must be vanquished with confession and prayer.”
“Do you ever favor cutting the devil out of anyone?” Eric asked seriously, and his question was taken just as seriously by the priest.
“If evil goes deep and takes root it is sometimes necessary to purge the soul.”
Eric did not like his answer. “And have you purged a soul?”
“Nay, I have not found it necessary; confession and prayer work miracles.”
“What say you of Lady Faith?” he asked bluntly.
Father Peter shook his head and sat down on the bench. “A sweet young woman, and so very courageous.”
Eric sat down beside him. “You did not think her evil?”
The little man rubbed at his sad, tired eyes. “Nay, she always had a smile for everyone and a kind word. That was why it was so difficult to believe she was possessed by evil.”
It was Eric’s turn to appear startled. “Who told you this?”
“A young servant girl at Donnegan keep.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Aye, I do, and she is here now.”
“Who is she?” Eric asked anxiously.
The priest freely gave her name. “Her name is Nora.”
Eric shot a quick glance to Colin and he approached.
“Nora?” Eric repeated to make certain he had heard the name correctly.
The priest nodded. “A fine young woman who carries her duties out most diligently.”
Colin joined the questioning. “This Nora, is she the one who arrived with you at the keep the other night?”
The priest looked as if confused. “Only I have arrived.”
Colin corrected him. “The guards informed us you arrived two nights ago just before a young woman and departed alone at daybreak.”
The priest shook his head. “As I told you once before, it was not me. I stayed at a small village a day’s journey away to pray with an ill peasant family. The Donnegan party traveled on without me.”
“When did Nora inform you of the evil in Lady Faith?” Eric asked.
“The night of the attack,” the priest answered. “She hurried into the chapel and pleaded with me to come with her; that Lady Faith had fornicated with the devil and had met an evil end.”
Eric looked about to strangle the frail priest and Colin asked the next question. “And what did you do?”
“I immediately hurried to the poor woman’s side. She looked to be possessed, screaming out that the devil was there with her.”
Eric snapped at the ignorant man. “She was slowly bleeding to death, you fool.”
“She surrendered herself to the devil and suffered the consequences.”
Eric reached out and grabbed the cleric by his coarse robe. “She fought a raging lunatic and survived, and for that she was persecuted.”
Colin laid his hand over Eric’s and Eric reluctantly released the trembling man.
“You will think on this matter, Father Peter, and tell me anything else you recall about that night, no matter how unimportant you think it is,” Eric ordered sternly.
The man nodded. “As you wish, my son.”
I will speak with you in the morning.”
“After mass,” the priest added.
“One thing, Father,” Eric said.
“You wish confession?” the frail man asked hopefully.
Colin grinned. “You are tempting fate, Father.”
“All souls are worth saving, my son,” Father Peter informed them both.
“Not all, Father,” Eric disagreed. “I order you to keep your distance from my wife.”
Father Peter appeared startled by his edict. “Why? I assumed she would wish confession.”
Eric laid a heavy hand on the priest’s thin back. “What absolution can you offer a woman who surrendered to the devil?”
Chapter Thirty-two
Faith came awake with a start, grabbing the blanket to cover her bare breasts. She instantly searched the room in a hasty glance and caught notice of Bridget peeking out the door.
“What is it?” she asked anxiously, sensing something was amiss.
Bridget closed the door and hurried over to her. “Lord Eric and Lord William are in a shouting match.”
“Over what?”
“You,” Bridget said with a grin.
Faith jumped out of bed and rushed to the chest, throwing it open and reaching for her dark blue shift. “I must get dressed. I wish to hear what they say. Does anyone guard the door?”
Bridget hurried to help her, her own curiosity peaked. “Nay, Borg and Colin are in the hall—neither wanted to miss this confrontation. Borg ordered Rook to stay by your side.”
The big dog sat by the door, whining. He was just as anxious as they to investigate the shouts.
With fiery red curls falling wildly around her face and Bridget pushing Faith’s soft green tunic up on her shoulder, the curious pair made their way to the steps. They hugged the granite wall as they slowly descended the curving staircase and listened to the shouts that echoed through the great hall and up the steps.
Not wanting their presence known, they kept against the wall and out of sight, listening to the raised voices, one deep and self-assured, the other trembling and full of doubt.
“I need not answer to you; the matter does not concern you,” Lord William insisted with a quivering voice.
The thick wooden table groaned when Eric slammed his fist down hard upon it. “Faith is my wife and anything to do with her concerns me.”
“The attack took place years ago and matters not.”
This time the table cracked when his fist met it with a hefty blow. “What matters is you failed to protect your daughter and then you failed to give her proper care after the attack. Such selfishness is unpardonable.”
“I was doing what was best for her,” Lord William said, his quivering voice sounding shrill as he raised it.
“And you think leaving your daughter to die is best for her?”
Colin and Borg moved closer to Eric, afraid he would reach out and snap the rotund little man’s throat since he looked so furious, though their hands itched to inflict similar damage.
“Her reputation was soiled. What good was she to me? She would bring no substantial marriage contract and she would forever be branded with her shame.”
Eric growled low and deep and he clinched his hands at his sides, his knuckles turning white. “So you left her bleeding and in the care of a lone servant.”
“At least in death she would have retained her honor.”
“You know nothing of honor,” Eric said. “You are a coward and a fool.”
“If I am the fool, then why is a shamed woman your wife?” Lord William remarked snidely.
Eric hit the table for the third and last time. It split down the middle and parted, though
remained standing. “Are you really so ignorant that you would think I would take a woman for a wife that I did not want?”
“You had no choice,” Lord William insisted, sweat beading on his full face.
Colin and Borg laughed, making the trembling man all the more nervous.
Eric shook his head and folded his arms across his wide chest. “A fool you most certainly are if you think I married Faith because of your threat.”
Lord William stared at him in disbelief.
“Faith was the only one of your daughters I would choose to marry, and choose to marry her I did. Your threat meant nothing to me. Your other daughters were unacceptable, none suited me nor appealed to me. Faith I wanted from when first I laid eyes upon her and Faith I intended to have. I married her by choice, not by threat.”
Lord William remained silent, not knowing how to respond.
Lord Eric continued. “I will have an apology from you to your daughter before you leave this keep.”
“Never,” Lord William shouted, losing his anger and his senses. “I will not apologize to a whore.”
Eric was on the stunned man before Colin and Borg could stop him and before they tore him off the screaming man he had delivered two hefty blows that left blood pouring from his nose and mouth.
“You will be gone from this keep by morning tomorrow,” he ordered and stormed off, leaving Colin and Borg to deal with the sniveling man.
Eric felt the overwhelming urge to gather his wife in his arms and hold her tightly. He may have lost a mother young, but his father had been a good man and treated him fairly and with much love, as did his stepmother. But Faith’s own father cared naught for her and her stepmother was a cruel woman. He would make certain she received the love so long denied her.
He bounded up the steps, his focus on his thoughts, when he was suddenly confronted by a pair of weeping women.
“Borg,” he bellowed and swept his crying wife up into his arms.
Borg was at his side in no time.
“See to your woman,” Eric ordered and carried his wife up the steps and to their bedchamber.
He placed her on the bed and lay beside her, cradling her in his arms. “I am sorry that you had to hear that.”
The Irish Devil Page 34