My Valiant Knight

by Hannah Howell

  “He tried to kill me,” said Margaret, placing her hand over her heart and slumping against the post as if she were about to faint. “I was but walking upon the stairs when the beast lunged at me.”

  “What did ye do to him?”

  “Naught. The animal simply attacked me.”

  “Ugly would never attack someone without reason, or without a direct command from me.”

  Ainslee could feel the slight tremor still coursing through her calming pet. Ugly was not angry, he was afraid. The Frasers had clearly done something to the dog to rouse his ferocity. Cornered and threatened, the animal had prepared to strike back, as any animal would. Ainslee knew what game was being played now. Since Margaret’s attempt at murder had failed, the woman was striking back like some spoiled child, trying to hurt Ainslee by hurting her pet. All Ainslee could do was pray that Gabel would hesitate to kill her pet. If he fully believed the Frasers’s claim of a vicious, unprovoked attack, Ugly would be slain, and Ainslee knew she would be unable to stop it.

  Gabel frowned, glancing from Ainslee, who still hugged her now docile dog, to the Frasers, who had relaxed their poses of terror. He found it hard to believe that the wolfhound had attacked the Frasers. The dog had shown no sign of being vicious, was in fact extremely well trained. It was why he had allowed the animal to roam freely around Bellefleur. His people had quickly accepted the dog. A glance at the men who had followed him to the door showed that they had their doubts about the Frasers’s claim as well. Gabel thrust his fingers through his hair and struggled to think of some compromise.

  “Mayhaps ye commanded the dog to attack me,” said Lady Margaret.

  “Dinna be a fool,” snapped Ainslee. “I have just suffered in your company for an hour or more. Ugly may be a clever dog, but even he canna be given an order and told to follow it later. Ye canna have dealt much with dogs if ye think I could tell him to sit here and, when the Frasers finally stroll into view, attack them.” A soft snicker from several of Gabel’s men told Ainslee that she had made an argument the Frasers would find very hard to dispute.

  “Then the dog has simply taken a dislike to us.”

  “ ’Tis clear that Ugly is an animal possessing great discernment.”

  It was also clear to Gabel that Ainslee and Lady Margaret would argue over the matter for a long time if he did not interrupt. “Enough,” he ordered. “I believe the answer is to confine the dog whilst the Frasers are my guests.” He reached to grasp the neatly braided leather collar around the animal’s neck, and looked at Ainslee when she did not immediately release her pet.

  “Ugly has ne‘er been caged,” she murmured, briefly glaring at a smug Lady Margaret before looking beseechingly at Gabel. “ ’Twill upset him.”

  “ ’Tis better that he is upset than that he is killed.”

  “Ye wouldna kill him, would ye?”

  “I would not, but someone has now declared him a threat,” he replied in a voice too soft for the others to overhear. “Give him o’er, Ainslee. The man who tends to my dogs will be good to him.”

  After giving her dog a brief hug, Ainslee released him. She watched morosely as Gable had one of the men lead Ugly away, drawing a little comfort from the kind way the man treated the dog. As she stood up and brushed off her skirts, she glowered at Lady Margaret, sickened by the way the woman cooed her gratitude to Gabel. When she noticed the faintly sardonic look upon Gabel’s face, she began to relax. Lady Margaret’s need to spite her may well have worked against the woman. Since Gabel did not believe Margaret’s claim that the dog had attacked, he had to wonder why the woman made it, and that could well rouse his suspicions against the Frasers.

  “I believe I will retire to my room now,” Ainslee said, cutting through Lady Margaret’s cloying flattery of Gabel.

  “Ainslee,” Gabel called, pulling slightly away from a clinging Lady Margaret.

  She ignored him and started up the stairs. “Mayhaps Ugly can spend part of his confinement locked in my room or in Ronald’s. ’Twould calm him if he could spend some time with us.”

  “Aye—mayhaps.”

  After a quick look at Lady Margaret, Ainslee added, “And I am to be the only one who feeds him. ’Twill stop him from becoming too much a member of your pack and keep him from feeling abandoned.”

  “As you wish.”

  Gabel divided his attention between a clutching Margaret and a retreating Ainslee. He was sorry to see Ainslee disappear. She had donned a soft blue gown the ladies of Bellefleur had given her, and the way it flattered her eyes and coloring made her more of a pleasure to look at than usual. He also had the feeling that some dangerous game was being played right beneath his nose, but he had yet to sniff it out. It was doubtful that Ainslee would confess anything to him, but he wanted the opportunity to question her. As he escorted Lady Margaret to her bedchamber, he found himself wondering how he could rid himself of his guests without offending them.

  “Are ye sure your beastie is safe, lassie?” Ronald asked as he watched Ainslee pace his room.

  “As sure as I can be.” She stopped, leaned against the ornately turned bedpost at the foot of his bed, and sighed. “She went after my dog out of pure spite, Ronald.”

  “Because ye didna have the grace to die beneath that rock.”

  “Exactly. I wouldna be surprised if she still tries to kill Ugly. ’Tis why I have demanded that I be the only one who feeds him. Gabel appeared to have accepted my reasons for that and agreed.”

  “Mayhaps he suspects something.”

  “He may weel do so. Lady Margaret may weel have erred in trying to claim Ugly was a vicious dog, given to unprovoked attacks. Neither Gabel nor his men really believed that. Ugly has become the pet of Bellefleur, with even the kitchen maids slipping him a wee treat now and again.”

  “Then it could weel serve a good purpose. The beast willna suffer.”

  “Nay, I ken it. I ne‘er realized how difficult it can be to rouse a person’s suspicions about someone without actually saying anything. ’Twould be much easier to just sit the mon down and tell him what I think and ken about those cursed Frasers.” She shook her head. “I did tell him that it was Fraser and his men who killed my mother, but he has said nothing about that.”

  “What can he say? Sadly, folk die in battle. Aye, the lad may condemn the murder of innocents in the heat of battle, but too many of his ilk have done the same for him to now condemn Fraser for it.” He frowned. “Sir Gabel doesna think ye had the dog turn on the Frasers, does he?”

  Ainslee grimaced and shrugged. “He may have considered it at first, but, nay, I dinna think so. I was seated next to him in the great hall. E’en he must ken that, whilst ye can make a dog hunt someone down and ye can e’en make the animal kill a mon, ‘tis impossible to make a dog lie in wait for hours to attack one particular person. Gabel had to do something to placate his guests. I must find consolation in the fact that he didna order the dog killed. ’Twas what Fraser was demanding.”

  “The bastard. Weel, my wounds will soon be healed enough for me to leave my bed, and ye willna have to wander through this nest of adders all alone.”

  “Dinna try to move too soon out of fear for me. I am weel enough.”

  “They tried to kill you,” Ronald protested.

  “Aye, and failed. I am now alerted to their deadly intentions and will be even more careful. Soon my father must ransom us and we can leave this place. Now, I have wearied ye enough with all my complaints—”

  “Ye ken that I am always ready to listen,” Ronald assured her.

  “Aye, I ken it.” She moved to his side and kissed his cheek before walking to the door. “I will be fine. Dinna fret o’er me.”

  “Nay? I canna help doing so when I recall that ’twas the Frasers who slaughtered your poor mother.”

  “The Frasers will discover that I have a goodly share of the MacNairn blood mixed with that of my mother. I willna be such an easy kill.”

  Gabel stood by the narrow window in Justice’s r
oom and scowled down at the dog pens next to the stable. Ugly sat in the middle of the pen howling softly but mournfully, the other dogs huddling in the far comers of the pen. Ugly was so much bigger and stronger than his dogs, there had been little fighting when the animal had been tossed in with the pack. Nevertheless, Gabel had to fight the urge to go down and release the animal. He inwardly grimaced as he admitted to himself that he wished to do that not for the animal’s sake, but for Ainslee’s. Her pet’s unhappiness was going to distress her, and he badly wanted to avoid that.

  “ ’Tis nonsense, you know,” Justice murmured as he stepped up next to Gabel and peered out at the dog. “That dog has been raised with a gentle, loving hand. He is a fighter, but he would not attack without reason.”

  “I believe that as well, although I did have a moment’s doubt. Ainslee and the Frasers hate each other. I did briefly wonder if Ainslee had tried to make the dog hurt them. Howbeit, why would the Frasers wish to harm a dog? It makes no sense.”

  “Nay? You just said that the Frasers hate Ainslee MacNairn. Ainslee loves that dog.”

  “And, so, if you hurt the dog, you hurt Ainslee? ’Tis a child’s spiteful act. Lord Fraser and his daughter are full grown and high-ranked members of the king’s court.”

  “So you think them above such nonsense?” Justice laughed and shook his head. “Only a saint is above the occasional act of spite, cousin, and the Frasers will ne’er gain sainthood. I was not surprised when I heard the tale. Since you have spent more time in the Frasers’s company than I, I wonder why you are so puzzled by the deed.”

  Gabel sighed and leaned against the wall. “I am not In truth, I am now ashamed of my brief suspicion about Ainslee. What troubles me is the conviction that this incident is but a small part of something else. Something is happening between Ainslee and the Frasers, I am certain of it, yet I cannot guess what it is, and none of them has allowed even the smallest hint to escape them.”

  “Then why are you so certain?”

  “There is a feeling in the air, as if I am being buffeted by conspiracies and treacheries whirling about me, ones not aimed at me directly, but which will concern me. ’Tis as if I have been dragged into a dance I do not know the steps of. I believe the Frasers are the most guilty, yet Ainslee plays some game as well. At times I feel that she tries to make me see something, but I know not what.”

  “Then ask her.”

  “And you believe she will simply tell me all?”

  “Not without some coercion, but I do believe the girl cannot lie. She can twist her words and dance about the truth, but I truly think that she will not lie.” Justice pointed down at the dog pens. “And, if you hurry, you may have a chance to get a few of the answers you seek.”

  Gabel stared down at the dog pens, watching as Ainslee fed her dog some scraps. He shared Justice’s opinion that Ainslee would not outright lie to him. As he turned and started out of the room, he just hoped he could abide whatever truth he might pull out of her.

  Eight

  “There, my poor wee laddie,” Ainslee cooed as she fed Ugly a scrap of meat through the slats of the pen.

  “Poor—mayhaps. Wee—never,” murmured Gabel as he stepped up behind her.

  Ainslee gave a soft cry of surprise, for she had not heard his approach, then cast him a brief glare of annoyance over her shoulder, before returning all of her attention to Ugly. The way Gabel stood so closely behind her quickly began to unsettle her. She was too keenly aware of his presence, of his warmth at her back. It annoyed her that, despite his spending most of his day with another woman, her interest in him had only grown stronger. She still wanted him, still dreamt of him, and still ached for his kisses. It was, she decided, all rather pathetic. Her only comfort was in the fact that he had no knowledge of her weaknesses.

  “He has been treated as weel as any bairn,” she said, squeezing her fingers through the slats to scratch her dog’s ears. “He doesna understand why he canna run free.”

  “As I said, I believe that, if he runs free now, he will die.” Gabel slipped his arms about her tiny waist, and rested his chin on the top of her head. “The Frasers see your dog as a threat.”

  “And ye canna stop them from doing as they please?” She inwardly cursed the hint of huskiness in her voice caused by the warmth his touch stirred within her.

  “Stop them from protecting themselves? Nay. I could deny that your dog was a threat, but, in truth, most people would wonder why I troubled myself over a dog. The king would see any complaint as a foolish waste of his time.”

  “And because the dog is mine, ’twill be thought by many that the Frasers were right to kill him,” Ainslee said quietly, ruefully acknowledging that the MacNairn name was enough to condemn her or any of her own.

  “I fear so.” Gabel touched a kiss to the back of her ear, smiling faintly when she trembled in his arms. “Why would the Frasers falsely accuse your dog?”

  “They hate dogs.” As he teased her ear with warm, gentle kisses, Ainslee closed her eyes and leaned back into his hold.

  “Clever, Ainslee, but not an answer good enough to silence my questions.”

  “Why trouble me with questions anyhow? What does it all matter?”

  “Something is going on at Bellefleur, something between you and the Frasers.”

  “Do ye think we plot against you?”

  Ainslee turned around to face him. She had hoped that that move would end his kissing and the confusing heat stirred by his body pressing so close to hers. The respite she gained was only brief, for he placed his hands against the sturdy pen on either side of her, caging her body between his and the dogs’ cage. She shuddered when he touched a kiss to her cheek, slowly drawing his body closer to hers until they brushed against each other. She clenched her hands into tight fists as she fought the urge to reach out to him and pull him hard up against her. All her needs and desires were descending upon her with a vengeance and a strength she was finding impossible to fight. The clarity of mind she needed to fend off his questions was swiftly retreating.

  “Nay,” he murmured against the curve of her neck. “I do not believe either of you are much concerned with me, but there are definitely plots afoot. They whirl about me so strongly, I can feel the breeze. I realize that there is an old animosity between you and the Frasers—”

  A brief flicker of sanity cut through the haze of desire clouding Ainslee’s mind, and she leaned away from him. “Animosity? Such a gentle word for what lies between me and the Frasers. They killed my mother, dinna forget that. And, even before my clan became so lawless, the Frasers and the MacNairns opposed each other. ‘Tis not animosity, m’lord, but clear, hard loathing. Ye are probably the first in a hundred hundred years to see Frasers and MacNairns within the same keep. In any other place, one of us would have cut the other’s throat by now.”

  “Are you certain that such a murder is not being plotted even now?”

  “I dinna plot to murder anyone.”

  There was a look in his eyes which told her that he had caught the distinct inflection in her words, but he said nothing. She clung to the slats of the pen as he edged closer, brushing soft kisses over her throat. Ainslee knew she ought to push him away, but she simply tilted her head back to allow him access.

  She knew Gabel just sought to placate his desires. Lady Margaret’s presence was all the proof she needed that Gabel de Amalville would not even consider the possibility of marrying her. He just wanted a lover for a little while. Ainslee already knew that she wanted far more than passion from him. Common sense told her to shove him aside, loudly proclaim her outrage and leave, for the passion he offered would cost her dearly. That passion was hard to resist, however. The fact that she had almost been killed and that even her dog’s life was in danger made her hesitate to do what was considered right and honorable. The threat to her life still loomed. She dreaded the thought of dying unloved, even if that love was the fleeting sort born of lust.

  While logic and passion still wrestled in
her mind, Gabel pulled her hard against him. He brushed his lips over hers, teasing them apart and then easing his tongue into her mouth. Ainslee flung her arms around his neck and decided that she would let passion rule her actions. There would be a price to pay for her recklessness, but, as he started to stroke the inside of her mouth, she decided she was more than willing to pay it.

  Gabel hoisted her up in his arms and pressed her even closer to him. When she wrapped her slim legs around his waist, he groaned. Holding her as she clung to him, and moving his attentions to her ear so that he could keep her enflamed yet still see where he was going, he strode to the stable. He went to a secluded, hay-strewn corner, sheltered from the cold and prying eyes. Even as he worked to stifle any protest she might consider making with kisses and heated flattery, he shed his cloak and tossed it over the hay. He gently urged her down onto the rough bed and then settled himself between her legs in an enticing mockery of the intimate embrace he craved.

  Ainslee gasped as his body came to rest against hers. She could feel the hard proof of his need pressed firmly against her. Knowing she could stir Gabel so worked to heighten her own need. As he smothered her throat with hot kisses and slowly unlaced her bodice, she curled her legs around his trim hips and pressed him even closer. She echoed his hoarse groan, an ache flaring out from that point of contact and rushing throughout her body.

  Still reeling from that feeling, she offered no resistance as he tugged off her tunic. It was not until he began to slide her chemise up her body that she awoke to the fact that she would soon be sprawled beneath Gabel dressed only in her braies. She struggled to regain some glimmer of sanity and crossed her arms over her chest. Gabel was oblivious to her silent and somewhat weak gesture of protest, however. He sat astride her staring down at her braies with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

  “You wear braies,” he muttered even as he pulled off his tunic and tossed it aside.