Wild Roses

by Miriam Minger

  “But I … I don’t want to be Lord FitzWilliam’s wife,” Maire began, only to be sharply cut off.

  “As if he would have you, flawed as you are.” Adele’s gaze fell to Maire’s legs, her eyes grown as vexed as her expression as she then lifted them to Maire’s face and spoke almost to herself. “Yet Duncan has always been one to let compassion sway him, not so wise a trait in a man who lives by the sword. If he has kissed you, who can say how your crippled state will further move him?”

  Adele’s clenched fist came down upon the table at the same moment a half dozen jugglers and acrobats began to whoop and tumble at the center of the hall, Maire not sure which had startled her more. Yet she was already so alarmed by everything the woman had told her, her heart pounding, her lips burning as if Duncan had only just kissed her … Jesu, Mary, and Joseph!

  That her impossible imagining hadn’t been a dream was not half as disturbing as that she found herself wishing she’d been awake to feel his mouth touch hers. Maire felt more anxious than ever before to leave Longford Castle. But without Flanna, how … ?

  Maire glanced at Adele to find the woman still glaring at her, as if by sheer will she could make Maire disappear. Suddenly Maire realized she sat beside the one person who would gladly aid her. Desperately shoving away all thoughts of her slaughtered clansmen and the fact that she couldn’t possibly trust Adele or her men, Maire had no choice but to speak.

  “Please, the meadow … the meadow where my clansmen—” She faltered, grisly memories assailing her no matter her resolve, but already Adele was leaning toward her, the woman’s eyes narrowing. Maire swallowed and rushed on. “If there was a way for you, your men—someone to get me there. I could wait, like you said. I’m sure it would only be a matter of time before my family—”

  “FitzHugh!”

  Adele had risen from her chair, her knight tossing back the last of his wine and rising, too. As the two conferred in low voices, Maire was grateful for the commotion in the hall as none seemed to pay much attention. Even Reginald Montfort, who appeared well occupied by the comely servingwoman refilling his goblet. The next thing she knew Adele had gripped her shoulder and bent low to whisper in her ear.

  “Look as if you’re ill, damn you. It’s the only way.”

  Look as if she were ill? In truth, Maire felt nearly sick from nervousness and she shoved away her plate, the smell of the various foods nauseating her indeed. Adele looked pleased as Maire then rose shakily, the woman looping an arm around her waist as if she were truly concerned while she raised her voice so at least those on the dais would hear.

  “You don’t look well at all, dear girl! FitzHugh, help me support Rose on the other side.”

  As the swarthy knight hastened to oblige, the clamor in the great hall seemed to dim, many turning to watch as Maire was assisted down the steps. And this time Adele gave Rufus a sharp look that made the dwarf merely shrug and go back to prancing around the minstrels who had begun to play a lively tune, Adele’s voice once more rising above the din.

  “Don’t mind us, please, enjoy your meal. Lord FitzWilliam’s lovely guest merely wishes to retire—not feeling well, I fear.”

  A few glances of concern were thrown their way, but Maire exhaled with relief as Duncan’s retainers fell back to eating and drinking while Adele’s knights on the dais caroused with even greater abandon, Adele’s maidservants shrieking with laughter as they were caught and fondled. The only man who approached was Clement, his eyes greatly worried, but Adele seemed to have been ready for him.

  “Friar, go at once and prepare calming herbs for Rose’s stomach. We’ll follow you.”

  “Ah, me, I knew bringing her to the hall would be too taxing after that potion,” Clement began, but a convincing moan from Maire sent him bustling away. Adele raised a trim brow.

  “You did that quite well, Rose. Playing a part seems to come naturally to you. Now, we must hurry.”

  Maire didn’t say a word, she couldn’t, she felt so tense, that she might soon be free of Longford Castle almost too much for her to hope. As Adele and Henry FitzHugh helped her walk from the great hall toward the tower where Clement resided with his many cats, Maire wondered with every step how they might elude the good friar.

  It proved most simple. Adele merely guided Maire with her knight’s assistance past the door where Clement had disappeared, then through a wide passage, and into what Maire saw at once was an immense stable. The pungent smell of horse manure, polished leather, and fragrant hay made her hope and nervousness soar wildly.

  “Quickly, FitzHugh, saddle our horses!”

  Adele’s anxious command was quickly obeyed. Within moments the woman herself gave a leg up to Maire, as Henry FitzHugh hoisted her behind him onto his massive black steed. The same snorting animal, Maire realized as she tried to still her hands from shaking, that had run her down in the woods only two days before; in spite of herself, she felt sickened as Adele mounted a fine dappled gray gelding.

  “We’ve only moments before Clement will come looking for us—no time to fetch food or water. Ride, FitzHugh, and when we get to the drawbridge, let me speak to the guards. Say nothing!”

  They burst from the stable into a gray dusk, Maire breathing cool evening air for the first time in what seemed an eternity. She kept her arms clasped tightly around FitzHugh as they rode across a vast courtyard, although the offensive smell of the man, sweat mixed with soured wine, made her wonder if he bathed in the stuff as well as drank it, or bathed at all for that matter. And she had entrusted herself to his care …

  Trying not to think of the crude things Henry FitzHugh had said about her, Maire was stunned that it seemed they’d reached the drawbridge before she could blink. Yet her heart sank when grim-faced sentinels raced from their posts to stand in the way.

  “No one leaves Longford Castle, Lord FitzWilliam’s orders!” came a shout from a great burly fellow in chain mail and helmet who appeared to be in command. “Forgive me, my lady, but—”

  “This young woman is ill, man, and Friar Clement cannot help her!” cried Adele in feigned desperation, cutting him off. “He told me another healer resides in the village—we must find him!”

  “I’m sorry, my lady, but I cannot allow it. Strict orders and I’m bound—”

  “And I ask will you say the same, man, if this poor woman dies and Lord FitzWilliam demands to know why we could not obtain help for her? Lower the drawbridge now, or I fear—I know—there will be the devil to pay …”

  As the commander looked doubtfully at his men, then back to Adele, Maire doubled over behind Henry FitzHugh and began to moan piteously, her blood pounding in her ears for fear she wouldn’t be convincing enough … only to hear the man utter a vehement oath.

  “Very well, lower the drawbridge! But hold your weapons at the ready, men. Those Irish Lord FitzWilliam warned us about may be lurking near!”

  A great creaking and the heavy scraping sound of chains turning massive winches filled the gathering darkness, followed moments later by a telling thunk. Maire closed her eyes for fear it was all a dream. Yet as the horse beneath her lurched forward and clattered across the drawbridge, she dared to believe she would soon be free, left to fend for herself in the woods near the meadow, aye, but surely Ronan and Niall would come back to that place and find her

  “Men approaching from the west!”

  A sentry’s cry from high atop a tower shattered the night’s stillness. But it was Henry FitzHugh’s fierce curse that made Maire lift her head to look, while Adele signaled wildly for her knight to turn his mount around. Yet there was no time to go back, as a host of armor-clad riders carrying blazing torches came thundering toward them. An infuriated voice rose above the din of hooves and the commotion now coming from the castle.

  “By the blood of God, Adele, FitzHugh, where in blazes are you bound?”

  Chapter 11

  Maire gasped and tried to hide herself behind Henry Fitzhugh, while Duncan couldn’t believe his eyes as he brou
ght his lathered horse closer.

  “Rose? God’s teeth, what … .?” His fury mounting, Duncan barely saw the man he’d left in charge of the drawbridge rush forward, his gaze jumping back to Adele.

  “Woman—”

  “Rose is ill, Duncan, and we thought—hoped, that a healer in the village might do better for her than Friar Clement.”

  “That is so, my lord. I wouldn’t have let them pass at all if it hadn’t been so urgent,” interjected the stricken-faced commander. “The young woman was moaning so—”

  “The devil take it, then why is she out in the night and not abed, the healer called to come to her?” His roar making his dark bay stallion snort and toss its head, Duncan fixed his eyes back upon Adele, his half sister looking suspiciously pale. “Did Clement have a chance to look at her?”

  “No … yes, I mean I changed my mind so suddenly, Duncan. I’d sent him to his room for herbs, saying we’d follow, but his healing potion failed to bring Rose a cure. She still remembers nothing more of her family—”

  “Dammit, woman, you were taking her back to where her clansmen were slain, weren’t you?” Adele clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head, but that only confirmed Duncan’s intuition. “After I told you that wolves …”

  He couldn’t go on, he was so angry he didn’t dare. Gerard de Barry reined in his horse beside Duncan’s.

  “It’s growing darker. We should be inside, the guards on the battlements alerted, especially now.

  “Especially now?” said Adele, bringing her mount closer as well.

  Clearly to draw Gerard’s attention, Duncan thought grimly, though he was pleased his knight had scarcely given Adele a glance. Nodding at Gerard, Duncan’s reply to his sister was low and brusque.

  “We’ve prisoners, three Irish rebels. Clan O’Melaghlin.”

  “Oh, my, how delightful, Duncan! Where are they? Can I see them?”

  Duncan ignored her and brought his horse side by side with Henry FitzHugh’s, disgusted as much that Adele would look upon his prisoners as if they’d been brought back to fan her amusement as he was furious she had breached his orders.

  Even in the deepening darkness he could see that the young woman who’d scarcely left his mind was trembling, having no warm cloak to protect her; a swift glance at both FitzHugh’s and Adele’s saddles showed that no provisions of food or drink had been made, either, and even Adele wore no cloak against the damp evening chill. Damn his half sister, did her penchant for folly have no bounds?

  Cursing under his breath, Duncan swept the woman from FitzHugh’s horse so suddenly that she gasped, stiffening in his arms as he settled her in front of him and tugged his heavy cloak around her shoulders.

  “Ease yourself, Rose. I do not blame you for this night’s events.”

  Maire said nothing, could say nothing, nor could she stop her shaking as Duncan kicked his horse into a gallop and rode across the drawbridge into the courtyard, which had come alive with people rushing from the castle, great sputtering torches held high. She saw Clement, his kindly face full of disbelief, and Reginald Montfort, too. The older knight appeared to blanch with chagrin when he spied Adele and Henry FitzHugh stop their horses not far behind Duncan.

  Within moments the courtyard was filled with the whinnying, snorting mounts of at least forty men, the noise and confusion a blur to Maire as stableboys leapt forward to lead exhausted animals to their stalls while the metallic clatter of knights in battle garb seemed to ring around her. She scarcely noticed that Duncan had dismounted until he raised his arms to lift her down, yet her feet no sooner touched the ground than he had swept her up once more. His embrace was fearsome, made so by chain mail that covered him from the coif on his head to his feet.

  “Gerard, see to the prisoners. I’ll join you when I can.”

  Amazed that Duncan’s commanding voice could carry so well above the clamor, Maire heard its harshness, too, which made her tremble all the more. She had heard such a grim tone from Ronan whenever he spoke of Normans or those clans who had traitorously submitted to their yoke, and it was clear Duncan felt the same about the Irish rebels. Maire watched with pity as they were dragged from their horses.

  Jesu, Mary, and Joseph, two appeared no more than smooth-faced youths and must have ridden the long way together, while the third was an old man with graying beard and wild flowing hair who bore himself proudly even as he was shoved into motion by the knights surrounding him with drawn swords. Sickened, she closed her eyes, imagining the dank dungeon where the prisoners were no doubt bound, imagining the iron shackles and fiendish instruments of torture—

  “Ah, Baron, I feel such a fool! Such a fool!”

  Clement caught up to Duncan as he strode with Maire across the courtyard. The friar had to nearly run alongside them when Duncan didn’t slow his pace.

  A went to fetch calming herbs—Lady Adele said Rose was ill. I’d told her the great hall would be too much for the poor child, and then the torment Rose was made to suffer—”

  “Torment?”

  Duncan had stopped to face the friar, Maire’s heart pounding at the tension in his voice.

  “Ah, Baron, it was a wretched thing to watch. That dwarf of Lady Adele’s—Rufus the Fool. He followed after Rose, making sport of her as she walked …” The friar’s eyes moved with fervent apology to Maire. “I should have insisted then that Rose be allowed to return to your rooms, to bed where she might rest. The next I knew, Lady Adele insisted Rose was ill yet she never came for the herbs … Baron?”

  Duncan had set out again, his strides so furious that Maire could not help but feel the power of them, his arms tightening around her, which only made her fear she would surely share in some of the brunt of his anger. He had said he didn’t blame her, yet he must have seen she was not held atop FitzHugh’s horse by force. Saints help her. The only thought that gave her comfort as Duncan strode through an open door into the castle was that she had not been made to join the prisoners. Was it possible he had not guessed the truth about her clan … ?

  “Bring hot water for a bath,” he commanded a small cluster of servingwomen huddled near the entrance to the great hall, who scattered to obey. Then to Clement, who still hustled after them, “Fetch your herbs, friar, and come quickly, so you might tend to Rose. She shakes as with fever.”

  Maire swallowed, no fever making her tremble so wretchedly. With every step that Duncan took round the tower to his rooms, her dismay only grew.

  To come so close to leaving Longford Castle, and now to find herself being carried back to the bedchamber she had thought never to see again, the same bedchamber where Duncan had kissed her…

  Her cheeks flaring hot, Maire didn’t allow herself to look at him as they entered his apartment, Duncan not stopping until he reached the hearth, where he set her down upon a chair and dragged her closer to a freshly stoked fire.

  “Stay there.”

  She hadn’t thought to move, his actions as he went to the bed and grabbed up a blanket reminding her so much of that first night when he had mistaken her for Flanna. Had it only been two days past? But this time she did not cringe from him when he swiftly returned and wrapped the blanket around her, then sank to his haunches in front of the chair.

  In truth she had scarcely looked at his face until that moment, and now she found herself staring just as he searched her eyes, Duncan FitzWilliam appearing more intensely handsome in the firelight than she dared remember. If she hadn’t already been trembling, she would have begun to, her gaze falling in disbelief to the masculine beauty of his lips. He had kissed her. He had kissed her! No man had ever done such a thing before.

  “Woman, what has happened this night? Had Adele harmed you? Her man, FitzHugh? Threatened you somehow to make you leave with them? Dammit, what? You must tell me!”

  Maire had started at his vehement demand, however low, which only made him draw closer, his mailed knees pressing against her legs as he wrapped the blanket more snugly around her. She sucked in her breath, eve
rything Adele had told her in the hall rushing back to her, the vivid concern in Duncan’s deep brown eyes alarming her all the more.

  She knew he must pity her, especially after what Clement had revealed about Rufus’s cruel mimicry, but she didn’t want such sympathy … in truth, she wanted that from no man! Mayhap if he knew she had played a part, if he knew that she’d made up her own mind to leave, he would see that she could manage well enough and didn’t need his pity.

  “Rose, please, you must tell me—”

  “Aye, very well, I asked her to take me!”

  Her outcry echoing in the room, Maire saw Duncan’s eyes darken to almost black, but she paid no heed and rushed on.

  “I-it made sense … that my clansmen might come back to that place, whoever they might be. I still don’t remember, but it made sense just as I said, so I asked your sister to take me there and she agreed—”

  “God’s teeth, woman, of course she agreed! Why wouldn’t she? If the wolves found you first, all the better. Then there would be no witness left to what might be deemed a punishable crime if your slain father proves a chieftain loyal to King John, and she knows it! I’ve sent messengers throughout Leinster and Ulster, Rose, to every ruling baron. It will take only days—perhaps two weeks but no more, before I’ll have found your family for you, then you’ll be safely home! Dammit, woman, is it so horrible for you here that you would flee headlong into danger? Can you not see I’m doing all I can to help you?”

  Maire could only stare at him, Duncan appearing as affronted as she was filled with sudden panic. Days? Mayhap two weeks at most before the truth would be known? When no loyal clan claimed her, then what would Duncan do?

  Her thoughts flying to the three rebels who might even now be shackled to a dungeon wall, Maire dropped her gaze at the same moment a light knock came at the door, a female voice calling out that she’d come from the kitchen. Duncan rose and shouted “Enter!” so forcefully that Maire jumped, her eyes widening as he went and dragged the wooden tub from against an opposite wall to the hearth.