The Stolen Brides 02 -His Forbidden Touch

by Shelly Thacker

  Thayne’s lips tightened. “My intent was to disarm you, milord. I merely wished to prevent you from cutting my brother’s throat.”

  Lifting an eyebrow, Royce glanced from him to Karl, seeing the resemblance between the two. Though their coloring was different, the features were similar.

  As was the crooked grin, he discovered, when Karl spoke. “Thayne never misses, Sir Royce. He could have killed you had he aimed higher. And I did try to convince you that we meant no harm.”

  “Aye,” Royce said slowly, still dubious.

  “And you were not the only one who lost a bit of blood in Gavena’s marketplace,” Landers reminded him.

  Royce turned to regard the sandy-haired rebel whose broad shoulders almost matched the length of the longbow he favored. “It was my duty to keep all of you away from the princess.”

  “Indeed, and you are damned fast with a blade,” Landers complained with a glower, rubbing his right thigh, which was still bandaged. After a moment, his mouth curved in a grudging smile. “Had I been the one charged with protecting Her Highness’s life, I only hope I would have been as fierce. It seems King Aldric chose well.”

  Before Royce could respond, footsteps echoed from a narrow passage at the end of the cave.

  “That will be the ladies,” Thayne said, rising.

  “Finally,” Landers muttered, his tone one of relief.

  Royce looked toward the cave entrance as a tall, blond woman stepped inside.

  Just ahead of Ciara.

  “Your Highness,” a chorus of voices said with hushed reverence. Every man in the cave dropped to one knee and bowed—except for Royce, who could not move despite the shock racing through his veins.

  Ciara looked quite calm as she walked right into the rebels’ lair. At least until she saw him. Gasping, her gaze on his bruised and bleeding forehead, she rushed past the others to kneel at his side. “Oh, Royce, are you all right?”

  He could only choke out a small sound of confusion as she gingerly probed his sore head.

  The rebels got to their feet, yet still made no move to harm her. Landers slipped one burly arm around the blond woman’s waist. “Did you have any trouble?”

  “None, my love.” She stood on tiptoe to brush a quick kiss over his lips, but her smile faded as she saw Royce’s injury and bound arms. “Thayne, was that necessary?” She turned a frown on the group’s leader.

  “Miriam, I told you we might have to—”

  “You promised me that this time no blood would be shed. Instead, it would seem you have all been brawling again.”

  Royce finally recovered from his astonishment enough to speak. “By nails and blood, what is—”

  He never got to finish because Ciara had remained still only long enough to make sure his injury was not serious before she threw her arms around him, without regard for their audience. “Royce, I was so worried, but everything is going to be all right. Miriam explained that the rebels never were trying to kill me—”

  “And you simply believed her and left the palace?” Royce choked out. “Ciara …” He would have unwrapped her hands from around his neck if his were not tied behind him. Would have stepped away from her if he were standing.

  Since he had no choice but to submit to her embrace, he closed his eyes and leaned into her, inhaling her scent, reveling in her closeness and the caress of her hair against his cheek.

  He heard the sudden, astonished silence fall among the men gathered around them, realized that everyone in the cave had just guessed that his and Ciara’s feelings for each other went deeper than what a princess and her protector were supposed to feel.

  But he did not care at the moment. He was too grateful to have her here with him, beyond Daemon’s reach. “Thank God you are all right.” He finally managed to pull back from her. “But how did you get out of the palace? You could not have simply walked out without anyone seeing you—”

  “A secret passage, Baron Ferrano.” The blond woman crossed to stand before him and curtsied. “I am sorry we must meet under these trying circumstances, milord. I am Miriam, lady’s maid to Princess Ciara.”

  “The decoy,” he rumbled. “The one who told these others where to look for us?”

  “Of that I am guilty, milord, but I never meant for any harm to befall milady. Or you.”

  Ciara sat back on her heels, heedless of her velvet gown being dampened by the cave floor. “I believe she is telling the truth, Royce. The incident in my father’s solar was not an assassination attempt at all. It was an abduction gone awry.”

  “I am sorry you were injured, Your Highness,” Landers said. “I would rather have plunged the blade into my own heart.”

  Ciara turned to look at him. “You were the one who …” Her eyes widened in recognition. “It was you!”

  He knelt before her, his head bowed, his voice strained. “I offer my deepest apologies, Princess Ciara, and swear to you it was an accident. I only drew the knife hoping to frighten you so you would stay quiet while I tied you up. I beg your forgiveness.”

  “And I grant it, sir. I understand now that you had your country’s best interests at heart. And you took a great risk to your own life.”

  “Everyone here has taken a great risk for their country, Princess Ciara. Yourself included,” Thayne said, his eyes filled with respect and admiration for her.

  “Wait a moment. Will someone please explain all of this to me?” Royce interrupted. “After you untie me.”

  Thayne motioned to young Hadwyn, who quickly slit the ropes with a knife. Set free, Royce flexed his fingers and allowed Ciara to help him to his feet, his head still pounding. Touching his temple, he found he was no longer bleeding. He fixed Thayne with a hard stare. “What do you mean it was a failed abduction attempt?”

  “We never intended to kill her, milord.”

  “As I explained to Her Highness,” Miriam put in, “if that had been our purpose, I could have poisoned her food at any time and spared us all a great deal of danger.”

  “Our intent was simply to keep her from Prince Daemon,” Landers said. “To prevent the wedding.”

  Royce glanced from one to the other as they spoke, still finding it hard to believe that the rebels were not the traitors and assassins he had believed them to be. “But what about the avalanche? How was that intended to prevent the wedding—except by killing us both?”

  “We had naught to do with the avalanche,” Karl said.

  “It must have been caused by the weather,” Landers added, “by a spring thaw.”

  Royce looked at Ciara, who nodded, as if to remind him that he himself had told her that was a possibility. Frowning, he lifted his gaze to Thayne’s. “So it was purely a coincidence that your men were there when it happened?”

  “Only one was there when it started,” the rebel leader corrected. “I had scouts searching for you in all the southern passes. One of them spotted you and left at once to inform his companions that you had been located at last. But by the time the four of them returned to the pass, it was obvious a catastrophe had taken place.”

  “And before they could reach you, you escaped,” Landers said. “They claimed you sledded down the hill on your shield. I accused them of making that part up.”

  “Nay, it is true.” Ciara glanced at Royce, her eyes bright.

  One corner of his mouth curved upward as he remembered that particular adventure … and what had followed that night at the inn.

  He hoped he was the only one close enough to notice her blush. She quickly turned to Thayne. “So Sir Bayard had naught to do with what happened?” she asked. “He did not tell you where we were?”

  “Nay, Your Highness.” Thayne shook his head, his brow furrowed. “I have heard of Sir Bayard, but he is not involved with our efforts.”

  Royce almost sighed in relief and shared a quick smile with Ciara, glad that he had been wrong in suspecting his friend.

  “Milord, please tell me that we have convinced you,” Miriam pleaded. “We mean n
either of you any harm. What reason do we have to lie to you now?”

  “The lady has an excellent point, Baron,” the rebel leader added. “If we wanted either you or Her Highness dead, you would be dead already.”

  Royce held Thayne’s steady, green-eyed gaze for a long moment, realizing he could no longer deny the obvious truth. “Very well, so you are not murderers or assassins. But that still leaves one question—what do you want with us?”

  “Your help.”

  Now it was Royce’s turn to respond with a soft sound of amusement. That was hardly the answer he had expected.

  But he was willing to hear more. “How is it you think we can help you?”

  “Aye,” Ciara said curiously, her hand lingering on his arm as she turned to regard Thayne. “Miriam said that you would explain the rest. I still do not understand what good it would have done you to abduct me. If I do not marry Daemon, the peace agreement will fail and he might wreak havoc on Châlons again. We have already learned that we cannot defy him.”

  “We only wished to keep you from your wedding, Your Highness. To delay your marriage—”

  “Long enough to give us time to locate Prince Mathias,” Karl continued. “He is the rightful heir to the throne.”

  Royce began to understand their plan. “You intend to persuade Mathias to return and wrest power from his brother.”

  “Exactly.”

  Royce shook his head. “A fine idea, if he would agree. But Mathias has no interest in ruling.”

  “We believe he would change his mind,” Jarek explained, “if he knew what has been happening in Thuringia these past four years. Prince Daemon has brought our country to the brink of ruin in his thirst for power. He has spent so much money on war that his own subjects are starving. The people despise him and long for his brother’s return.”

  “We would rather have a priest for a king than a devil,” Hadwyn said flatly.

  “But where is Prince Mathias?” Ciara asked. “You said you have all been working together for months. Have you not spoken with him yet?”

  Miriam sighed. “Nay, Your Highness. We must find him first.”

  “It should be simple enough to dispatch messengers to Rome.” Royce turned toward Hadwyn. “Did you not tell me he went there on pilgrimage?”

  “Aye, milord. That is what Prince Daemon told everyone. And Mathias did indeed disappear quite suddenly four years ago, not long after the first peace negotiations ended—”

  “But we no longer believe he went on pilgrimage,” Jarek explained. “Some of us in Thuringia have been trying to find him for more than a year, but there has been no trace of him. In Rome or anywhere else.”

  Royce felt a chill. “Mathias was the one who initiated those first peace efforts. If Daemon decided he did not want any further trouble from his brother—”

  “We do not believe Daemon killed him.”

  “You sound certain of that.”

  “Hopeful would mayhap be a better term,” Thayne said.

  “There is a chance that Mathias is dead,” Jarek admitted, “but even a man like Daemon has his limits. His fears.”

  Ciara blinked in amazement. “What does Daemon fear?”

  “Death, Your Highness. Daemon fears for his immortal soul. After all he has done, he is afraid he will be condemned to spend eternity in Hell.”

  “You may have noticed that in every town of Châlons he conquered, the churches were spared,” Thayne noted. “He does not want to provoke the wrath of God.”

  “And even for a prince, it is one thing to kill enemies, or even peasants, but quite another to kill your own brother—especially a holy man. A man who was about to take priestly vows,” Jarek concluded.

  “We believe it is more likely that Daemon let him live,” Hadwyn said, “imprisoned where he would be no more trouble.”

  Royce grimaced. “But where? Have you any ideas?”

  “Aye,” Thayne said darkly. “We have narrowed our search to the Ruadhan Mountains. One of our Thuringian guards was able to secure that much information, after weeks of secretly eavesdropping on Daemon’s meetings with his most trusted ministers. The man later paid with his life when Daemon came to suspect he was disloyal.”

  “And if you think the prince is harsh with his enemies,” Hadwyn murmured, “you would not wish to imagine how he deals with traitors in his own ranks.”

  Ciara shivered visibly. Royce had to resist the urge to slip a comforting arm around her.

  He glanced at Hadwyn and Jarek, realizing that the two of them were placing their lives in danger every time they set foot in the palace.

  “This is madness.” Shaking his head, he turned to Thayne. “The Ruadhans are the most treacherous range in all of Europe. Even if you knew on which mountain Mathias is imprisoned, you could be killed making the ascent when you try to rescue him.”

  “Exactly. Which makes it the ideal place to imprison someone, permanently.”

  “Which is why we will need the assistance of an expert climber if we are to free him,” Karl added. “You left behind a most interesting array of equipment with your destrier.”

  Royce glanced at him. “I do not suppose you could tell me what became of my destrier?” he asked hopefully.

  “We left him with one of our people in the town of Vasau,” Landers said.

  Royce smiled in relief at the news that Anteros was safe. Then he frowned. “I will want him back.”

  “Aye, milord.” Thayne laughed. “That will not be a problem.”

  “And did you find a puppy as well?” Ciara asked eagerly. “She was in a basket—”

  “She is safe in Vasau as well, Your Highness.” Thayne’s expression was hopeful as he looked at Royce. “Though we did take the liberty of having your other things sent here to us … just in case you agreed to help.”

  Royce hesitated, but only for a heartbeat. He had to do it. For his country’s future, for Ciara’s sake—and for Mathias.

  He owed the kindhearted prince a great deal.

  Glancing down at Ciara, he gave her a rueful grin. “Your Highness, I hope you will forgive me, but I believe I have just become a rebel.”

  She did not look particularly happy about his decision, but his announcement brought a hearty round of male cheers.

  Which were interrupted by Miriam speaking softly to her mistress. “You, Your Highness, also have a difficult task. We need you to ask a few careful questions and find out where Mathias is, if you can. The men could spend weeks searching for him in the Ruadhans, and we do not have weeks—”

  “Wait a moment,” Royce protested hotly, his heart skidding to a halt. “You have been trying to abduct her all this time—and now you mean to send her back to Daemon? She should remain here, where she will be safe—”

  “Milord, now that she has arrived at the palace, she must stay there,” Landers told him. “This is not how we wanted it to be, especially with the wedding planned for ten days hence. That is why we tried to stop you before you reached Mount Ravensbruk.”

  “We have little time left to find Mathias,” Thayne said tightly. “If Her Highness disappears now, it will raise Daemon’s suspicions. We can ill afford that at this critical point.”

  Miriam took Ciara’s hands in hers. “Your Highness, you may be the only one who can get the information we need. It will not seem amiss that you are curious about Daemon’s family. It makes sense that you would ask about his brother.”

  “I do not like her taking such a risk,” Royce bit out.

  “Royce, they are right.” Ciara squeezed Miriam’s hands, then turned to face him. “Daemon would never suspect that I of all people am in league with the rebels. I am the only one who can do it.”

  Royce felt as if the cavern walls were closing in on him. He looked at Thayne. “I do not want to send her in there alone,” he insisted, jaw clenched. “I will—”

  “Nay, milord, I cannot allow that.” Thayne’s adamant tone held a note of regret.

  “You would be well advised
to stay completely out of sight, since you are supposed to be dead,” Hadwyn reminded him. “Daemon believes you are at the bottom of a cliff somewhere.”

  Royce muttered a frustrated oath, realizing they were right. He could not return to the palace.

  “But she will not be alone,” Miriam said firmly, standing beside her mistress. “I will be with her.”

  “And we will be near at all times,” Jarek assured him.

  “And I am not the same helpless princess I once was,” Ciara whispered, her liquid gaze on his. “I have learned that I am stronger than I thought. I can do it, Royce.”

  Her courage, her willingness to place herself in danger, only made him want to draw her close and keep her safe. Keep her with him.

  But once again, he had to let her go.

  He clenched his fists, lifting his gaze to the rebel leader’s. They stared hard at one another for a long moment, and he sensed that Thayne understood what he was feeling.

  Understood that Royce was not merely protecting his princess, but the woman he loved.

  He asked one last question, fearing he already knew the answer. “And if we do find Mathias, and he does agree to take the throne from Daemon, what happens to her then?”

  “Our plan was that the wedding would go forward as planned,” Thayne said quietly, “with a different prince as the groom, to fulfill the peace agreement and assure the future of both our countries.”

  Royce looked down at Ciara, seeing the hope in her eyes flicker and die. She had not understood until now, must have thought that being free of Daemon meant she would be truly free, that the two of them could …

  Only now did she realize what he had always known: she would never be truly free. What he had said to her a few days ago was still true. Princesses do not marry mere barons.

  His throat closed off at the anguish in her eyes.

  “It would appear that neither of us has a choice.” Her voice was hollow.

  “Indeed, Your Highness.” His mouth curved in a bitter half smile. “It would appear that some things never change.”

  At least, he thought, she would not have to wed Daemon. If he could never have her for his own, he could at least give her that.

  And with Mathias and Ciara on the throne, Thuringia and Châlons would enjoy a bright future.