Mary Reed McCall

by Secret Vows

  Finally, she settled for an explanation of a different kind. “Gray left that same afternoon at the king’s command. He went to Cheltenham, to assist in a grand assize there. It’s been six days already, with no telling when he’ll return.” She looked away, so that Heldred wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes when she added, “And that is why I must leave tonight. I cannot continue to risk my children’s safety by waiting longer. I am only indulging myself if I do.”

  Heldred drew her gaze again, his dark, wise eyes searching hers. “You feel deeply for your husband, then, lady?”

  She tried to blink back stinging tears, but in the end, she just nodded and forced a watery smile. “Aye, Heldred. I love him. My heart aches to think that I must leave him. But my children must come first. I know that, and yet I—”

  Her voice cracked, and with an oath, Heldred gathered her to him like a wounded child. All the anxiety of the past week seemed to overwhelm her, and she let herself weep into his kind embrace, clinging to him for strength. It felt so good to have the comfort of this old friend; he knew her true identity and could share her burden, even if only for a little while.

  When the worst of her crying had passed, Catherine hiccuped and wiped her nose with the scrap of linen he offered her. “Thank you,” she murmured, trying again to smile. “The only bright spot in all of this is finding you, Heldred. That, and knowing I’ll see my children again tonight, God willing.”

  “Aye. If there be any justice in this world, you and they will live safely together once more.” Heldred stood straighter. “I want to help you to it, my lady.”

  “What?”

  “I wish to go with you, to assist you in freeing your children from Faegerliegh Keep.”

  “Nay, Heldred. I’ll not have you risking yourself more. Coming here and taking a disguise to watch over me was danger enough.”

  “And what of the twins’ safety, lady? Will you be content to pass by what help I can offer? Are not two rescuers better than one?”

  Catherine frowned at her old friend, taking a breath in preparation to argue with him, then clamping her mouth shut when she realized that he was right. She sighed. “You have a point. But attempting a rescue at Faegerliegh will be dangerous, as you well know. The intricacy of the corridors alone will daunt us, not to mention the guards Eduard has surely posted everywhere.”

  “That doesn’t change my wanting to aid you.” A familiar glint sparked in his eyes. “Besides, if we find trouble, you can always stun the guards with a few passes of your blade. You know, your first day of training with the sword was inspirational.” He grinned and made a feinting pass at her before letting his imaginary steel tip thud to the floor.

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You saw that too, did you?”

  He shrugged. “I followed at a safe distance. ’Twas but a short while after I’d arrived at Ravenslock, and I had to be sure that your new husband meant you no harm by taking you out dressed so strangely and with weapons in tow.”

  Catherine’s smile dimmed. Gray had never meant her any harm in the entire time she’d known him. All he’d ever done was care for her and make her feel safe and loved. Shaking her head to push the thoughts away, she said, “I’ll have you know I’m much improved from that first day.”

  “Aye, lady, I know,” he said, still smiling. “I’ve been watching.” Then he gestured toward the door. “But perhaps we should go now so that you may get back to the castle. It wouldn’t do for you to be missed on this of all days.”

  Catherine nodded, clasping his wrinkled hand in hers. “I had planned to leave after dark, once the Punkie Night festivities were full under way. My maidservants told me ’tis a night of wild revels. The confusion will provide a chance for us to make our escape.”

  “’Tis a good plan. We can leave with what we need before anyone even knows we’ve gone. Where did you stow the sack of provisions I saw you gathering?”

  “I hid it in the straw behind the stables. I thought it would be easier to retrieve when I needed to get it onto my mount.”

  “Clever, my lady. But riding will make it necessary to steal a horse. Two, if I am to go as well.”

  “Aye, Heldred, I know. I regret the theft, and yet I cannot see much choice in it. Not if we’re to get to Faegerliegh and spirit the twins away before a search finds us.”

  Heldred nodded. “’Tis a boon, then, that I sleep in the stables. I’ve been passing myself off as a groom. In disguise my back looks crippled, but I’ve proved to them that my hands work well.” He grinned, wiggling his fingers. “I can prepare the mounts for us. All you’ll need to do is meet me at the stables as soon as most of the revelers have left the castle.”

  “I’ll be there,” Catherine said, opening the door and peering out of the cottage to ensure that the pathway was quiet. All looked bright and deceptively calm. She ducked back inside for a moment to give Heldred a hug and a murmured farewell. But before she could embrace him, he winced and drew in his breath sharply. Startled, Catherine pulled back.

  “What is it, Heldred? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, my lady,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching for the pouch on his neck. After fumbling to open the drawstring, he took a pinch of the dried contents inside and pushed it past his lips. In a moment his spasm seemed to pass, and he breathed easier. Apologetically, he looked at her. “’Tis but an old malady of the chest. Nothing that a little cherry bark cannot cure.”

  “But it pained you so,” she said, still worried. “Might it not be better to have the castle healer examine you to be sure ’tis nothing more serious?”

  “Nay, I’m fine,” he said, waving her off. “I’ll not forestall the rescue of your children for the sake of my aches and pains.”

  He smiled tightly again and shooed her toward the door, but she resisted. “I wish you would reconsider, Heldred.”

  “Nay, my lady. Please. Speak no more of it.”

  She paused, lips pursed at his obstinacy. Finally she just shook her head and said, “If you will not do as I bid concerning this, then you must grant me one other boon.”

  “What is it, my lady?”

  “To be careful in your preparations for this night. Horse thieving is a serious crime, and I do not know if I could live with myself if anything happened to you because of me.”

  He patted her cheek. “Aye, you have my word, lady. I will be fine. I plan to do my work in the shadows, as always.” He smiled, crouching back down into his former, hunchbacked pose, startling her again with the swiftness of his transformation. “People often overlook cripples, you know, my lady. ’Tis easier for most to pretend deformity doesn’t exist.”

  She nodded, squeezing his hand before moving to the door.

  “Until tonight, then, Mistress Catherine,” he called gruffly.

  “Aye, Heldred.” She gave him one last look over her shoulder. “Until tonight.”

  Eduard tilted a stick of sealing wax to the flame and let it drip onto the fold of parchment he held. When the liquid had accumulated to a thick, blood-red pool, he turned his hand and pressed his signet into it. There. ’Twas done. Nodding for his messenger to approach, he handed him the sealed document.

  “I want this delivered posthaste. No delays. It must arrive at Ravenslock on the morrow. I myself will follow by no more than two days. See to it.”

  The man nodded, fear etched in the tight lines of his face. The messenger’s expression pleased Eduard, made him more comfortable. His will would be obeyed, as always. Because if it wasn’t…

  Smiling to himself, he strode back to his tent at the center of camp. His men, the nearly five score of whom he’d forced to join him for his travels with King Henry, were settling in for the night in their lesser shelters, dotted around him in circular formation. The very position of their tents protected him as their lord. ’Twas his right, as was his own sumptuous canopy, occupied by no one but himself.

  Aye, ’twas his right—as Ravenslock Castle would also be his by right, before the week was
out.

  Pushing aside the flap to his tent, he ducked in and squinted at the thin veil of smoke hanging in the air. That blasted boy, Compton. He’d forgotten to leave an opening at the tent’s peak again. Eduard resolved to speak to him about it, to ensure that he’d remember next time. Just as soon as—

  “My—my Lord Montford?”

  The soft, dread-tinged voice tingled up Eduard’s spine like the stroke of fingernails. Ah, she was here.

  At least Compton had obeyed one of his commands. He stepped further into the partitioned area of his tent and approached the mound of pillows and furs that served as his bed. A woman huddled beneath the coverlet, obviously naked. And trembling. Her auburn hair curled over her shoulders, spilling onto the blankets; her eyes followed his every motion, as a hare watches the approach of a wolf.

  Eduard smiled again, excitement flaring in his blood. She was afraid. Deliciously so. As well she should be.

  After disrobing slowly, so that she might gain full view of his impressive size and strength, he yanked the covers off of her and sat on the bed. Then, taking the back of her head, he pulled her hard to him for a deep kiss. She tasted of cinnamon. He delved deeper into her mouth, pleased. Again, his wishes had been obeyed.

  Soon the woman—Juliette, was it?—began to struggle, whimpering and pushing against his bare chest as she fought for air. Laughing, he shoved her away and reclined on the pillows, flicking his wrist to indicate what she should do for him next.

  Her lips looked slightly bruised from his kissing, her eyes wide brown pools, so expressive, so shocked at what he was demanding of her. And yet she did as she was bidden, crouching over him to grasp his erection and take it into her mouth. She moved tentatively at first, then with a choking cry as he dug his fingers into her hair, forcing her into a rhythm that pleased him.

  He sighed and leaned back into the pillows, abandoning himself to sensation. Ah, yes, ’twas just what he’d needed. He craved release to soothe the tensions of this last week with the king. All of the bowing and scraping he’d been forced to do—it had sickened him, but he’d done it, done everything needed to ensure his continued privilege and rank in the kingdom. To ensure his high status with King Henry.

  And yet even the mighty king didn’t know how much Eduard de Montford’s power was about to increase. Aye, it would swell by no less than a third of the cursed Camville’s estates. And after that he’d take the wretch’s latest plum on the vine—his imminent appointment as Sheriff of Cheltenham. Pluck it himself, once that milksop Catherine completed his instructions, as he’d directed her in his letter. Then it would all fall into place. Just a few more days…

  His groin began to tighten, pleasure rippling into his belly, mounting and growing. He gritted his teeth, savoring his coming triumph as he watched Juliette’s head bob up and down on him with smooth, even strokes.

  It was good to be obeyed. To know that those he commanded would scramble to do his bidding, would struggle to please him and serve his will. He closed his eyes, pressing into the pillows as the delectable tension began to overwhelm him. He felt it building to a fever-pitch…

  Suddenly he exploded, releasing the hot flow from deep inside. Sensations swirled and throbbed, mixing with his angry thoughts until they were almost indistinguishable in his mind.

  Blind obedience. So sweet, so necessary to the smooth progress of life.

  And his right, by heaven and hell.

  His bloody right.

  As darkness fell over the land, Catherine stood in the torch-lit opulence of the bedchamber she’d shared with Gray, trying to put the constant, wrenching thoughts of him from her mind. She’d waged a silent battle against her emotions all day, her heart leaden at the thought of leaving, even knowing that she had no choice.

  Setting her jaw, she twisted her plaited hair into a knot and paced to the window. Rain spattered the costly glazed panes and a chill seeped through the cracks between window and wall, but the storm seemed to be waning. Thank the saints that the foul weather had had little effect on the Punkie Night revelers beginning their celebration below. Bonfires winked merrily across the hillside, glowing in defiance of wind and weather.

  With a sigh, Catherine turned away, resolving to make her final preparations. She’d already changed into her breeches and tunic, and strapped the sharp sword she used for training to her side. A cape. Aye, she still needed something dark and hooded, like Heldred wore, not only for warmth, but to hide her features and shield her feminine shape from the world.

  Making her way into the small room attached to the bedchamber, she lit a wall torch. Gray kept most of his clothing here, stored in trunks or in the two tall wardrobes standing against the wall. Her garments were here too, though they weren’t what she sought now. Nay, all of her things were too feminine and colorful. She’d have to use one of Gray’s cloaks for her escape.

  After rummaging a little while, she found what she sought. A hooded cape of thick, black wool, brushed soft, with no edging or braid to distinguish it. Taking it from the trunk, Catherine shook it out and draped it over her shoulders. It was big, cut for Gray’s powerful frame, but that would serve to hide her more effectively. She only hoped that her height and build would help her to carry it well enough to avoid suspicion.

  Snuggling the fabric around her, Catherine closed her eyes. A biting pang stabbed her. Gray’s scent, fresh and masculine, drifted to her from the folds of the garment, teasing her as if he stood there with her, wrapping her inside his embrace. She breathed deep, letting the feeling wash over her, unable to stop herself from prodding the fresh wound.

  Gray. Oh, Gray, my love.

  Squeezing back tears that welled again, Catherine turned and walked into the main bedchamber. She forced one foot in front of the other, making herself keep moving. ’Twas time to meet Heldred in the stables. No more dawdling with childish hopes and memories.

  She gazed round one last time, every object, each shadow seeming to burn itself with aching clarity into her mind. ’Twas here that Gray first came to her after their wedding, here where he’d soothed and cared for her. Here where he’d simply held her, safe and warm, until dawn on the night they finally were to consummate their union.

  These and so many other memories throbbed with a life of their own, making the ache swell until she thought it would swallow her up. But it couldn’t. She must consign her memories to the dust now. Those and all of her secret dreams of a future with Gray.

  Dashing her hand across her eyes, Catherine moved toward the door. It was over. She was leaving.

  But as she reached the portal, she heard a loud noise in the corridor. Startled, she stepped back; at that moment the door crashed open and slammed against the wall. Gray stood framed in the opening, rain-soaked, his chest heaving, his expression feral.

  He went still and gazed at her for what seemed like an eternity. His shadowed eyes burned, dark and vulnerable, his muscled frame outlined in stark relief by his wet shirt and breeches. Finally, he just shook his head.

  “Damn you, lady,” he growled softly, “but I want to know who the hell you really are, and what kind of game it is that you’ve been playing with me.”

  Chapter 15

  She stood frozen in place, dwarfed by his ridiculously large cape. Gray clenched his jaw. Hell, she looked more like a naughty child caught raiding his closet than a deceitful imposter bent on his destruction. Her breeches clung to her legs as deliciously as ever, her eyes bluer than he remembered. And damn her, but she was gazing at him with a look he might have mistaken for love if he hadn’t already discovered the awful truth about her.

  God, she was beautiful.

  The thought came unbidden to his mind, and he shoved it aside angrily, striding into the chamber. The locket swung like a weapon from his fist.

  “I stopped in Somerset on my way home from the grand assize, lady,” he grated. “And I found this.”

  He stopped right in front of her, offering up the necklace. She moved nary a muscle, nor did she
utter a sound in her defense.

  “Well?” he demanded, thrusting it at her again.

  She took it from him then, and the gentle brush of her fingers against his made him wince, made the ache he’d borne since that moment at the tavern lance deeper in his belly. He watched as she opened the pendant and looked at her own portrait. Her gaze was somber. Almost sorrowful. And yet still she didn’t speak.

  “By the Rood, woman, just tell me. For once, let me hear the truth coming from your lips.”

  She stood motionless, her expression filled with pain. “I’m so sorry, Gray. You’re right. You deserve the truth. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I—I—” She made a choking sound and squeezed her eyes shut. “Nay! I cannot tell you. Not here. Eduard’s spies—”

  “Spies?” Gray broke in bitterly. “You mean other than you?”

  She flinched, and the ache in his gut bloomed wider.

  “Eduard hired spies to watch me,” she said quietly. “To report of my every move, my every word, back to him.”

  “If that is true, then I can assure you, they are no longer a concern. When I arrived, I ordered all of the revelers back to the castle before barring every gate under heavy guard. ’Twill remain so, with none allowed to enter or leave Ravenslock until I am satisfied that there is no further danger to me or my people.”

  She remained silent, looking at the floor.

  “Go ahead,” he challenged her. “Speak! There’s naught to fear now in revealing the truth.”

  Slowly, she lifted her gaze until it connected with his; a jolt of agony went through him, mocking him with its power. God, but he was a pitiful excuse for a man, a weak wretch to still want this woman—this betrayer—so much, even after all that she’d done to him.

  “I never meant you harm, Gray,” she whispered. “You must believe that.”

  “Must I?” he managed, his throat aching, tight. “Was it not you who came here under false pretences, you who feigned marriage with me, making our union and everything that came after it a lie?”