Champion of the Heart

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “I deserve you,” Jordan said softly.

  Her words drew Fox’s attention. When he looked at her, with the moonlight shimmering on her white skin, he realized she could have been a woodland nymph, a creature of magic and beauty. Her hair was wild about her shoulders, her large blue eyes full of trust and mischief. Fox looked away again. “You are supposed to be another man’s wife.”

  She released her grip on his forearm. “I don’t want to marry Evan,” she said softly.

  Fox bridled. “I should hope not. He will be dead long before he can lay a hand on you.”

  “You would kill him simply because King Edward granted your lands to his father?”

  Fox looked at her with such darkness and anger she pulled slightly away. “I would kill him because he ruined my family. It was his fault. All of it. He killed the baron. He is the cause of my father’s misery.”

  Jordan sat back on her heels.

  She should be shocked, Fox thought, but she does not appear to be. He frowned and leaned forward to snatch his breeches up. He slid them over his legs and reached forward for his tunic. “I found this in the baron’s tunic. I carry it with me every day to remind me of what I need to do.” He rummaged inside his tunic for a moment before grabbing something and displaying it to her. It was a pouch. After all these years, the fabric had frayed and the colors had faded, but the crest on the pouch was still vivid. The Vaughn crest. He handed it to her. She took it, but didn’t seem to see the pouch.

  “Fox,” Jordan whispered.

  He didn’t acknowledge her, lost in his own thoughts.

  “Fox,” Jordan said. This time he heard her, noticing there was a strange catch to her voice.

  “Evan was the only one who could have done it,” Fox explained. “The pouch had been filled with gold coin. The baron’s coin. My father must have known Evan had done it. I don’t know why, but my father felt he had to protect him, had to take the blame for him, maybe because Evan was my friend. I don’t know. I still can’t figure it out. All I know is that I’ve waited far too long to do what’s needed to be done.”

  “Fox, Evan didn’t kill the baron,” Jordan said, staring at the pouch she held limply in her hand.

  “Of course he did. He robbed him, killed him, and stole his gold. My father tried to protect him and the Vaughns betrayed him, betrayed his trust.”

  “Evan didn’t kill the baron,” Jordan said more forcefully.

  Fox turned to stare grimly at her. “Are you defending him?”

  Jordan shook her head.

  “If it wasn’t him, then who was it?”

  Jordan was silent. She looked away from him, her head down.

  Fox noticed for the first time how pale her face seemed. The rosy glow was gone from her cheeks and there was suddenly a haunted look in her eyes. Fox scowled. “You know. You know who the murderer is.”

  Jordan dropped her eyes to the cloth in her hands.

  “Tell me, Jordan,” Fox said.

  “You have to understand. Michael –”

  He seized her shoulders. “Tell me who killed the baron so I can avenge my family!”

  “Fox,” the word came from her lips as more of a sob than a plea.

  “Tell me.”

  She lifted tearful eyes to him, eyes full of agony, full of guilt. “I killed the baron.”

  For a long moment, Fox could not move. He felt like the air was being squeezed from his lungs. Betrayal speared through his body like lightning. He dropped his hands and jerked back as if he had touched poison. It can’t be! he thought.

  “I promised your father I wouldn’t say anything,” Jordan said, desperately. “Not even to you.”

  Fox stood up quickly, backing away from her.

  She moved forward on her knees, as if seeking forgiveness. “Fox, the baron... he was sick. He liked little boys. He had Michael –”

  “Don’t!” Fox exploded.

  A broken sound came from Jordan’s throat.

  “You said nothing! You let them take everything from us. From me!” Fox took an angry step toward her, then faltered. Complete agony washed over his features. “We lost everything because of you!”

  Jordan lifted a hand to him, reaching out to him. “I’m sorry, Fox.”

  Fox stood stoically for a moment, then swatted her hand aside and turned, racing through the forest.

  “Fox!” Jordan cried.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jordan dressed as the sun rose to meet a dreary gray sky. She still felt drained and exhausted from saving Mary Kate from the river. She had barely slept during the night. Her thoughts were a scattered mix of conflicting feelings. She warmly remembered Fox laying atop her, kissing her, touching her, loving her. But she also remembered the ugly hatred in his eyes when she confessed her crime to him.

  She trembled fiercely as the image of his darkly enraged glare filled her mind. Her fingers were shaking so hard she couldn’t get the buttons on the back of her dress buttoned completely. Frustrated, she gave up on the last button, leaving it undone.

  She picked up the pouch and stared at it.

  It was Evan’s crest, all right. There was no mistaking the red background and the black dragon. What was a pouch filled with gold doing with the baron? Had Evan worked for him? Was the gold meant for him? Or for his father? Had they done the baron some service?

  Jordan squeezed it in her hand. It didn’t matter. She looked up toward the path Fox had taken, remembering the hate, the anger, when only moments before there had been love.

  Jordan moved toward the house, a numbness dulling her senses. It was as though Fox had never been in her life, as though these past wonderful days had not happened. He hated her now more than he had before.

  Jordan entered the house to find Abagail sitting at the table.

  Abagail lifted her head to Jordan. “She’s sleeping,” Abagail whispered.

  Jordan nodded, trying to be strong. But she couldn’t stop the tears from entering her eyes. She looked away from Abagail.

  “She’ll be fine now that she’s with us,” Abagail told her softly.

  Jordan nodded. She hurriedly picked up a dagger and began to cut the bread for the morning’s meal. But that didn’t stop the tears from rolling from her eyes to drop onto the table top.

  Abagail put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You needn’t worry any longer. Everything is fine.”

  Again, Jordan nodded silently. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t worried about the children. She knew they would be fine.

  But she wouldn’t be so lucky.

  ***

  With red-rimmed eyes, Jordan returned to Castle Ruvane in the morning only to find her father had gone to court, summoned by the king. She moved through Castle Ruvane like a ghost, doing her duties and her chores. Servants raced up to greet her; soldiers welcomed her home and questioned her about the horrible ordeal her kidnapping must have been. She had very little, if anything, to say to them.

  Her thoughts were consumed with Fox. Her mind replayed the hate and loathing she had seen burning in Fox’s eyes. He would never forgive her.

  ***

  Two days later, Evan came to Castle Ruvane with a garrison of troops. He found Jordan in the Great Hall speaking to two serving women about packing up food to bring to the children at the house.

  “Lady Jordan!” Evan called out excitedly as he raced across the room. He threw his arms about her, holding her, warmly embracing her.

  Jordan felt strangely aloof from him, absently returning his embrace. He was obviously glad to see her, but there was no feeling of warmth for Evan inside her as there had been for Fox. There was no breathless anticipation of his touch or nervous excitement about what he might say to her, no stirring of desire. Not even a slight twinge of need or tingle at his touch.

  He was not Fox.

  Evan pulled away from her, a scowl on his brow. He studied her face. “Tell me, m’lady,” he said in a strangely quiet voice, “how did you escape from the Black Fox?” />
  “He let me go,” she said, quietly.

  Evan’s eyes narrowed. “He just let you go?”

  Jordan looked away from him. “Yes.”

  “It was a horrible experience for you, wasn’t it?” he asked. “He’s a ruthless bastard. Did he hurt you?”

  Only in ways you could never imagine, she thought, but remained mute to his question. Jordan’s brow slowly furrowed as she remembered the letters. “You never delivered my letters.”

  “Letters?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  “The letters I entrusted you to take to Fox,” Jordan said, her voice growing sterner with each moment.

  Evan lifted his gaze to the serving women, who were glancing at each other dubiously. He gently took Jordan’s arm and led her away from them toward the hearth. “What in heaven’s name are you speaking of?” Evan demanded.

  “The letters to Fox,” Jordan explained in clipped tones. “Ten years ago. When his father was first stripped of his lands and title. You never gave my letters to him.”

  “Of course I did,” Evan said quickly. “I tried everything to get him to take them.”

  “He knew nothing of them!” she hissed.

  “Is that what he told you?” Evan snarled. “Of course he would say that to turn you against me. And you believed him? I’m disappointed, Jordan.”

  Jordan scowled. “Fox had no reason to lie to me.”

  Evan straightened. “And neither do I.”

  Jordan studied Evan’s face. But she couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, couldn’t read anything in his empty stare. What reason would he have to lie to her?

  “I have been entrusted with your safety while your father is away. I have been doing everything in my power to get you safely home. And this is how you greet me? This is how you greet your betrothed?”

  Jordan opened her mouth to apologize, but then snapped it shut. “There are lies here, Evan. I will discover the truth.”

  Evan gritted his teeth. Jordan could see his jaw working as he stared at her. “We will be going to Castle Vaughn in the morning. I need to return to help guard the prisoners. The Black Fox will go there to try to rescue his men. I will be there when he does. He will not get away with taking you from me.” He stared hard at Jordan. “And then you will learn the truth.”

  ***

  Jordan was tired and soaked as she entered her room at Castle Vaughn. It had been a long trek to Evan’s home. The road to Castle Vaughn had been horrible, not only because of the rain that slowed their progress, doubling the time it normally took, but also because it had left her with hours where she had spoken to no one. Hours to think of Fox. To agonize over her loss of him, to try to think of some way to mend his hate. But how could she change the past?

  And then she thought of that one horrible day that had changed all their lives. She looked down at her hands. She could still see the blood there. How many times had she prayed for forgiveness? Too many to even attempt to keep track of.

  She tossed her wet cloak on the bed and lit two candles. They would be here soon. Then she would get some answers. The sky, barely visible through a thin slit in the window’s curtains, was gray, casting murky shadows in her room. The light from the candles helped to ease the gloom around her, but did nothing to lift her spirits.

  The long velvet curtains near the alcove to the window fluttered and Jordan glanced over at them, drawn back to the window by the sound. The window was open? It had been raining all day. Why was it open?

  Jordan moved toward the window. Her foot stepped into a puddle of water. She looked down.

  A hand locked over her wrist. She opened her mouth to scream, but when Fox stepped out from behind the curtains she bit back her startled cry, muffling it to nothing more than a whimper. Jordan’s heart blossomed with joy and relief and a smile touched her lips.

  But there was no joy in the face greeting her, no smile on the lips sneering at her. Fox’s blue eyes were cold with rage, despite the reflection from the two burning candles dancing in their depths.

  Confusion washed over Jordan. Fox’s arm twitched and Jordan looked down at his hand. A deadly dagger glimmered in the candlelight.

  “It will do you no good to scream,” Fox warned.

  Her gaze snapped up to his. He had come to kill her. The thought should have sent terror rushing through her, should have sent her running, screaming into the hallway. Instead, a calm resignation washed over her. She straightened her back slightly and stood before him.

  A slight scowl furrowed his brow. For a long moment they stood that way, with him holding her arm, the dagger separating them.

  If it would give him peace, then Jordan would gladly give her life for the atrocity she had committed all those years ago. Jordan faced Fox as she faced death, stoically waiting for him to deliver the final blow.

  And waiting.

  Suddenly, a knock came at the door, jarring her from her focus. She turned to glance at the door, then looked back at Fox. They were here.

  If he was going to do it, he would have to do it now.

  Fox dropped her hand and stepped back into the curtains.

  Another knock sounded at the door.

  Jordan’s heart beat wildly in her chest. He had released her. But why? Why? To let her live her life knowing a love she could not have, would not ever have? Why hadn’t he killed her?

  Another knock sounded, this time accompanied by a call. “M’lady?”

  Jordan stepped back from Fox and turned to the door. She moved to the bed, steadying her back on one of the four posts. “Come,” she called.

  The door opened. Two soldiers entered the room, holding a prisoner between them. Michael lifted his stare.

  Jordan locked gazes with Michael for a long moment. He had a purplish-black bruise on his right cheek. She frowned and took a step toward him, studying the dirty brown cloak that shrouded his body. She turned to one of the guards. “You may leave us,” she instructed.

  The two guards exchanged glances. “But, m’lady!” one protested.

  “I said leave us,” she ordered.

  They bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door behind them. Jordan knew she was taking a chance the soldiers would report her request to Evan. She was certain he wouldn’t take kindly to one of his precious prisoners being let out of his cell, but she didn’t care. She was determined to get some answers.

  Michael’s jaw clenched as he stared at her. “What do you want? Why did you have them bring me here? Have you tired of living? I will gladly end your suffering so mine can end as well.”

  Jordan felt his hatred seething from him, felt the ghostly hands around her throat. She had called for Michael to be brought to her before she knew Fox was in her room. She wanted to talk to him, to try to understand his rage. Now Jordan could reunite the brothers. But she had to know first. “Why do you hate me so?” she asked, truly confused.

  Michael’s face twisted in a grimace of distaste. “This is the reason you had the guards bring me to you? I’d rather rot in that dungeon than stand here and satisfy your befuddled curiosity.”

  “We were such good friends. I don’t understand what happened.”

  “If you were such a good friend, then why did you leave my brother, my family, like that?” Michael spat, stepping closer to her, his fists clenched.

  Jordan shook her head. “I protected you,” she said, her voice growing softer.

  “Protected me?” Michael demanded. “You destroyed me.”

  “I saved your life,” Jordan retorted bitterly.

  “Saved me? You ruined me.”

  Jordan shook her head. “I murdered the baron for you.”

  Michael froze instantly, his gaze scanning her face. “You are mad.” He turned away from her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “How can you say that?” Jordan asked. “Don’t you remember what was happening? What he was doing to you?”

  Michael turned back to her. “What is there for me to remember?” he sai
d, his anger churning, but his mind clearly racing at Jordan’s questions. “That you are a murderer and a betrayer. I can remember that very easily.”

  Jordan looked at him for a long moment. “Michael, yes, I did kill the baron. But I killed him to stop him. I didn’t mean to kill him... but when I saw him... when I saw him... over you...” Jordan paused to collect herself. She could almost see the beginnings of the memories returning in his eyes.

  Michael shook his head again, fighting the memories. “It was your fault,” he said, but the conviction had left his voice.

  “Yes,” Jordan agreed, anguish gripping her heart. “Yes, it was my fault. But not because I killed the baron. Because I was supposed to watch you. I left you alone to find a different hiding spot, an easier spot so that Fox could find me first. I thought you would be all right. I didn’t know... when I found you, I was so afraid I was too late.”

  Then Jordan witnessed a strange change come over Michael. He stood very still for a very long time, frozen in place, frozen in his thoughts. Jordan saw the transformation in his eyes, saw the anger dissolve, saw the horrific memories returning with anguish. For the briefest of moments she saw the face of the young boy return to Michael’s features, the sheer terror, the pain all resurfacing with a vengeance.

  She stepped toward him, lifting a hand to his cheek. “It’s all right Michael,” she whispered.

  Suddenly, the door banged open and Evan rushed in with two guards. They ripped Michael away from Jordan, restraining him as he struggled in their hold.

  “No!” Jordan cried. “Leave him alone.”

  Evan grabbed hold of her shoulders, spinning her around to face him. “Did he hurt you, Jordan?”

  Jordan ignored his question, keeping her gaze on Michael. Michael twisted in his captors’ arms, his face blank, his eyes seeing something else. “Stop it!” Jordan struggled in Evan’s hold. “Let me go! Michael!”

  Michael screamed out but it wasn’t the cry of a man. It was the same cry she’d heard echoing in her head for all these years, a little boy’s cry.