Unbound Heart

by Jane Atchley

  “Aimery, wait!”

  Her shout hit Duncan like an arrow in the back, arching his shoulders, and pulling his head back. He walked his horse back to her, stopping about a yard distant, backlit by the rising sun.

  Faelan shielded her eyes with one hand. “You said I could come to Elhar to look after my uncle’s needs. Is the offer still good?”

  He stared at her as if she had lost her wits. Maybe she had if she thought she could steal more time with this man and still walk away from him.

  “Yes.” He sounded like a stranger, distant, formal.

  She had no one to blame but herself.

  ****

  Duncan blazed into his captain’s tent so hot he feared throwing off sparks. “I don’t like the situation with the prisoner transport.”

  His captain lifted his wife off his lap and stood. “It’s standard procedure.”

  Duncan raked his hands through his hair. “It is too exposed. I want my prisoners on horseback.”

  “They aren’t your prisoners anymore.” Captain Fawr’s heavy hands caught Duncan’s shoulders. “And the point of a Triumph is showing the populace a defeated enemy.”

  Duncan spun away stalking across the tent. “The townsfolk will throw refuse at my prisoners.”

  Behind him, his captain chuckled. “It’s usual.”

  “I don’t care.” Duncan turned, spread his arms and let them fall back to his sides. “I wish to spare Faelan the experience, sir. May I send her into Elhar with your household?”

  “You can try, but knowing that prickly wench of yours, I wish you good luck with it.”

  Because his captain pegged Faelan’s temperament aright, Duncan rehearsed arguments supporting his position all the way to her tent.

  “Hello stranger.” Faelan called to him from the path.

  Stranger? Duncan froze. He had been doing his best to give Faelan space, trying not to press. It was true a first lieutenant’s duties were oddly more time consuming than those of a field marshal were, but he was hardly a stranger. He forgot his well practiced speech in the warmth of her smile and reached to take the bucket of water she carried.

  “Thank you.” Faelan linked her arm with his for the short walk to her tent.

  She was not one for public displays. Duncan’s heart soared. So what if she blocked access to his saber.

  “What time are we entering town?”

  “Ah.” Duncan set the bucket near the washstand. “That’s what I came to debate with you.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Debate?”

  Not the best word choice. “The captain’s wife and father-in-law are going into Elhar ahead of the cavalry. I’m sending Ky’lara with them and I thought...” He shrugged. “You might join them.”

  “Why?”

  She held one of several outfits lying on her cot against her body, silently asking his opinion. Rich teal, it warmed her ice-blue eyes. He nodded his approval while his mind raced for an answer. He had to step carefully. “No reason. I just thought you might be tired of eating trail dust.”

  Faelan dropped the teal fabric to her waist. “You are a terrible liar. You shouldn’t even try.”

  “I’m not lying. Captain Fawr’s family is going into the city ahead of us.”

  “Listen to you. You sound genuinely offended.” Faelan laughed. “I’m sorry, Aimery. You’re a wonderful liar. What are you not telling me?”

  “The Triumph, the procession through town, may prove unpleasant.”

  “And you want to protect me?”

  “I always want to protect you. It does not make me a bad person.”

  She came to him, twined her arms around his neck, and laced her fingers together behind his head. “It makes you a very sweet person, but I too, am the enemy. I’ll ride beside the prison wagon and face whatever your people throw at us.”

  Duncan’s hands slipped to her hips and pulled her pelvis against his. He rested his forehead against hers. “Is this how it’s going to be? Whenever I suggest something, you say no, just because I suggested it?”

  She laughed as if he’d said something funny, tilted her head, and kissed him. “All right, I’ll let you win. This time.”

  ****

  Faelan leaned on the balcony railing watching the soldiers pass below, rank upon rank, in burnished armor and braided uniforms. A jubilant crowd cheered, chanting Captain Fawr’s name. The day was everything Duncan promised, hot, dusty. He glanced up acknowledging her with a smile as he passed her position. Suddenly glad she’d given in, Faelan waited until the prisoner wagon rumbled past before returning to the guest chamber assigned to her.

  ****

  Sharp knocking woke her. She shook her head. Semi-darkness filled the sumptuous chamber. How long had she slept?

  “Faelan? Are you there?”

  Duncan. She flung open the door and threw herself into his arms, covering his face with tiny kisses. He half carried her across the threshold.

  “Thank you.” She kissed him one last time before giving him space to breathe.

  His mouth quirked up into an unsteady smile, pleased and wary at once. “You’re welcome…for what?”

  “You placed troopers around my uncle’s transport.”

  He crossed to the table, poured two glasses of Poi’ taw, and offered her one.

  “I am glad you liked it.” He sipped the drink. “Captain Fawr is not so pleased.”

  Faelan sat on one of the elegant parcel gilt settees flanking the room’s central fireplace and patted the cushion. “What did he say?”

  Settling beside her, Duncan imitated his captain’s raspy whisper. “We have to talk.”

  Faelan relaxed against the deep silk cushions. “That’s doesn’t sound so bad.”

  Duncan actually turned in his seat, the better to stare at her. “Have you met My Captain? The last thing any trooper wants is to talk with him.”

  Faelan tugged him back. Pulling his arm around her shoulder, she cuddled into his warmth. “He’s not that scary.” She felt Duncan’s muscles relax. His lips brushed her temple.

  “To you.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a time. Faelan enjoyed a second glass of island wine, while Duncan nursed his first, lost in thought.

  She kicked off her slippers and curled her legs under her. “Duncan, may I ask you something?”

  He came instantly back from wherever his musing had taken him. “Anything.”

  “When did you know I shared a blood tie with the women who rule this city?”

  He sighed. “When you spoke your name and I witnessed My Captain’s reaction, I suspected it.”

  “Is it why you wanted to save my life?”

  “At first, I thought to please the Ladies.” He turned in his seat so she could see his face and took both her hands in his. “Later, I came to respect and love you. In the end, I thought only of you. Say you believe me.”

  “I believe you.” Duncan pulled her into his lap, and she went willingly, twining her arms around his neck. “So what happens now?”

  “The Great Ladies decided on house arrest and reeducation for your uncle and the chief-men. A formal trial is set for early next week after which the Garrison rides north to Qets, and Ky’lara, Lyman, the twins, and I make for the islands.”

  A cold chill washed over Faelan. She shivered. “Leaving so soon?”

  He nuzzled her neck, pressed a kiss on the sensitive spot below her ear. “I must,” he whispered across the dampness left by his kiss. Faelan shivered again for a different reason. “It is already storm season along the coast. If I delay much longer we cannot make the passage. It will be a merry journey. Come with us.”

  Faelan tried to think of something besides Duncan’s warm lips nibbling her neck. Something rational. Nothing came to her. “The twins are going?”

  “Mmm. They tell me their lives are worth nothing without a sea voyage.”

  If the twins were going, it wouldn’t look so much as though Duncan was bringing a prospective bride to meet his family. �
��All right.”

  Duncan stopped kissing her and lifted his head, his gaze full of blue fire. “You’ll come?”

  “Yes. Now take me to bed, please.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Duncan hovered at Faelan’s side as she staggered across the deck, white-knuckled the monkey-rail, doubled over, and heaved up her lunch. He did not speak or touch her, although, it just about killed him. His body vibrated with the need to comfort her. But it only took one mistake for a man of his intellect to learn a woman didn’t want the man she loved holding her hair out of her face while she puked.

  And Faelan loved him. She hadn’t said it. Not in so many words. All right, not in any words, but she had taken one look at Sea Kite’s tall masts and marched up the gangplank as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Her bravado hadn’t fooled him. The wide blue sea stretching to the horizon scared her witless.

  With a low groan and little grace, Faelan fell back on the deck. Her hand waved in Duncan’s general direction, a frail back and forth motion that broke his heart. He hunkered down by her side and draped his handkerchief over her fingers as they passed under his nose. She loved him all right. Otherwise, she’d have demanded he turn back to port right after breakfast. Faelan was no sailor.

  She wiped her lips and pushed herself upright. “How long does this sickness last?”

  “Some folks get their sea-legs in a day or two.”

  Ashes. She looked like death. Her gold dust freckles stood out in stark relief against her greenish pallor. Duncan reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear because he could not bear another minute not touching her. Faelan’s hair had grown to chin length. It still felt soft as silk, but who would have guessed it was thick and wavy?

  She blinked watery eyes at him. “Sea-legs?”

  “You get used to it.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “I should have.” He pushed to his feet and reached down with both hands. She hesitated. She hated admitting weakness. “Under full sail, Sea Kite makes the crossing to the islands in forty-eight hours. The twins offered their Talent. You should take them up on it.”

  Faelan glared at him, some of her fire returning. “Your devil twins will never touch me again. You can put the idea out of your mind. I can endure anything for forty-eight hours.” She glanced out to sea and splayed one hand on her abdomen. “When this happened on the river, Roland told me to focus on something stable.” She swallowed audibly. “Nothing’s stable.”

  Duncan wiggled his fingers, and she finally put her hands into his. He hauled her to her feet and slipped one arm around her waist. “There are herbs for motion sickness. Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t like Roland knowing things about Faelan he did not.

  Faelan smiled, a forced feeble little thing. It crushed him.

  “I should have.” She leaned into him all the fire gone out of her. “Do you mind if I go to the cabin and lie down for awhile?”

  Duncan gathered her close, kissed the tip of her little freckled nose, rested his forehead against hers. “Depends on whether or not I get to lie down beside you.”

  ****

  “Land ho!”

  Faelan woke with a start. She didn’t feel the least bit ill. At some point during the night the ship’s motion morphed into something soothing rather than sickening. Duncan had pleasured her, demanding nothing for himself, and she had fallen asleep in his arms. Reaching out, she ran her palm over the empty spot beside her. Where was he?

  As if summoned, the cabin door opened and Duncan entered. “Good morning, Faelan. I thought you might be able to enjoy a bite this morning.”

  “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Faelan pushed herself upright. The cabin didn’t spin. Her stomach didn’t churn. She patted the empty space beside her. “What do you have there?”

  “Tea.” Duncan set the tray on the bolted down table and lifted the cover. “Passion fruit and monkey bread.” Faelan snorted, and he flashed a grin. “I didn’t name them.”

  She trailed the backs of her fingers along his arm. Likely, Duncan wasn’t aware of contractions creeping into his speech. He became less self-conscious, less formal, and more comfortable in his skin every passing day.

  “Land ho!”

  “What is Eoin shouting about?” Funny how she could tell the twins’ voices apart when she couldn’t tell them apart.

  “The bosun told him to shout, land ho, when he spotted land. The sound of it struck his fancy.” Duncan shook his head. “One never knows what the twins are going to like.”

  “Land!” Faelan flipped the portal curtain aside and immediately wished she hadn’t. Swallowing convulsively, she let it fall back into place. “I don’t see land.”

  “Not yet, but Eoin is in the crow’s nest.” He came at her with the teacup. “Sip, please.”

  “They like climbing up there.” Faelan sipped, and took the bite of monkey bread Duncan held between his fingers. It tasted of cinnamon and honey. She licked sticky sweetness off his fingers, and watched the bulge in his trousers grow. He really liked feeding her.

  “Mmm…in the rigging too, they’d make good sailors.”

  As opposed to her. “I hate the sea.” She hadn’t meant to say it. It just popped out. Faelan held her breath awaiting his disappointment.

  Duncan leaned in a hairsbreadth above her lips and whispered, “The outer islands will appear on the horizon in a couple of hours.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “Land on the horizon appears stable.”

  “A couple of hours…then there’s no hurry to be up and dressed?”

  “None at all.”

  Faelan cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down for a real kiss.

  Later, standing at the bow, leaning into the comforting warmth that was Duncan, Faelan gazed out at the wonder of the sea. The ship rose and fell, but Duncan stood solid as a stone wall. There must be some trick to standing on deck. Maybe he could teach her. Afternoon sun glinted on the water like gold coins strewn on the waves and steady on the horizon Duncan’s homeland appeared as a string of dark clouds.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I love the sea.”

  Duncan laughed. “I am pleased to hear it as there is no alternate route home.”

  She shot him a grin. “Are you sure you can’t sprout wings and fly us there?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “Too bad.” Faelan stepped away from him, leaning over the railing to watch a pair of large fish leap out of the water in front of the ship. “I was counting on you taking me flying.”

  “Do you really want to?”

  Some promise in Duncan’s tone made her glance over her shoulder. The hint of challenge stirring the fire in his eyes made her a tad nervous. Time to stop teasing the dragon. Faelan glanced out to sea. The islands were closer now, emeralds instead of clouds. Old fears raised their ugly heads.

  “What are they like?”

  Silence.

  Faelan could almost hear Duncan’s mind spinning, trying to follow her thoughts.

  “My family?” His strong hands appeared beside hers on the railing. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

  He really was a genius. Faelan smiled. Out in front of them the fish leapt again. “No. Those fish.”

  “Those are not fish, my love.”

  “Your family?” Faelan ground out.

  “They’re not fish, either.”

  “Duncan!”

  His arms closed around her, trapping her in the circle of his fire. “They will be…how they are.”

  For a genius, he could be annoyingly fuzzy at times. “What do you mean, how they are?” Duncan nuzzled her neck where it met her shoulder. “Stop trying to distract me. Answer the question.”

  His embrace loosened. He raised his head. “How would your family…be?”

  “Suspicious.”

  Duncan traced a line of tiny kisses from her shoulder to her ear. “You have a fine mind, Faelan. Use it. My family won’t be suspicious. They
will know exactly why I brought you.”

  Damn it all, she always came out on the losing end whenever he got logical. Logic had nothing to do with this. But his breath caressed her ear in such a pleasing fashion, her half-formed protest died in her throat.

  ****

  Duncan rolled onto his stomach to better spy on Faelan. The irony stung, but the longer he feigned sleep, the longer he could relish feeling mortal and appreciating her nakedness. Ashes. The woman ought never to wear clothes. She had the longest legs, the tightest little ass, the most perfect plum-sized breasts, and her golden dusting of freckles really turned him on. Only an hour ago his tongue mapped every inch of her lovely naked body, and he was eager to do so again. Once ashore he’d perforce observe proprieties.

  Faelan bent over to pull a pair of soft yellow drawstring pants out of her trunk, putting the aforementioned tight little ass practically in his face. Shimmying the pants over her slender hips, she slipped a pale, orange tunic embellished with yellow, embroidered vines over her head. She turned and slapped him on the rump.

  “You’re not fooling me, you know. Better leave the spying to me.”

  The ship lurched to a halt.

  Faelan grabbed hold of the table’s edge, steadying herself eyes wide, alarmed. “What happened?”

  “We’ve made anchor. The current swings the ship around.” Duncan threw the sheet off and climbed out of the bunk, brushing against Faelan on his way to his baggage.

  “We’re there.”

  She sounded so lost and afraid he glanced over his shoulder. “It is a vacation, Faelan, not an execution.”

  “Easy for you to say. No one’s watching your every move.”

  Duncan laughed. “Since the day I was born, folks have watched my ever move, my family, our House-holden, other Holders, my fellow troopers, strangers in the streets, you. Even Captain Fawr watches me in his own I-could-care-less fashion. I hid from it, hated it. No more.” He shrugged on his bright blue, uniform jacket, the better to remind his family he had a life separate from these islands, and turned to Faelan. “We are who we are. Let them watch. What do we care?” Duncan took Faelan’s hands, lifted them to his lips, and kissed her fingertips. “I don’t care about them. I care about you.” He winked. “And we have the twins to divert attention from us.”