by Ria Cantrell
Rhianna fairly ran back to the cottage, shutting the door behind her. She leaned against it and tried to bring her breathing back to normal. She chided herself for being a foolish woman, easily ensnared by a braw man. She needed to keep her wits about her or else she would succumb to his charms and find herself wedded and bedded and her lands would be forfeit.
Hildie eyed the lady curiously. Blush tinged her cheeks and her breathing was rapid like she had been running a great distance. Rhianna was leaning against the door as if Satan himself was on the other side. As a hand rested on her swollen middle, Hildie offered womanly advice.
“My lady, forgive my boldness, but well, Sir Erik would make a fine husband for you.”
“I do not need a husband, Hildie.”
Despite her discomfort in the late stage of her pregnancy, she was happy to be a mother. She could not imagine her life without the blessing of children and a warm bed with a husband in it. She frowned and asked, “But, Lady Rhianna, don’t you want children of your own? You are so good with Alys. Sir Erik would be a wonderful father to your babes, I am certain.”
“Hildie, you and I know nothing about the man and what I do know I am not certain proves anything except that he is a rake.”
“Your gifts are vast, m’lady but I have gifts too. I can tell a man’s mettle usually forthright. I assure you, Sir Erik is a fine man.”
Rhianna did not answer. Perhaps Hildie was right but perhaps she was just charmed by the way the man looked. God’s teeth, he would tempt the resolve of the saints! Besides, she could not tell Hildie the man kissed her publicly only after he threatened to spank her. Even thinking upon that made the heat rise in her face again, not to mention other places she dare not think about.
Rhianna went to the water pitcher and poured a drop of the cool water onto a cloth. She dabbed it to her flaming face. She felt as feverish as little Alys had been. Perhaps she was developing the same symptoms as the child. No, this was different; this did not feel like when one took ill. Rhianna ignored the source of the burning in her flesh. It was madness. That’s what it was.
Rhianna pulled herself away from the door and she tucked Alys back into bed. The door swung open and Erik appeared with an armful of wood for the fire. He had donned his under tunic, but left it unlaced. He placed the wood by the hearth and he waited while Rhianna gave some instructions to Hildie to rest as well as little Alys needed to. She packed up her basket and she left. Erik picked up his jerkin and mantel, which he had folded near the wood pile. He smiled warmly down at Rhianna and he gently pulled her cloak about her, tying it closed at her neck. It was a simple gesture, but it also was an intimate one. He said, “You were quite remarkable with that little girl. Your people are lucky to have your skills with healing herbs.”
Rhianna lowered her lashes shyly and said, “T’is just what I do.”
Erik once again felt pride welling inside of him for this woman. He had watched her caring for both the child and the mother and he reached a new found respect for the girl. He said, “Not everyone can do what you do. I am happy I decided to join you today.”
Rhianna looked back up to meet his gaze and she stammered, “Thank you…for your help. Alric has been busy in the fields with duties of the harvest. They needed their woodpile replenished and you.…”
Erik placed a kiss to the top of her hair and he said, “I was happy to help. It’s just what I do.”
And then he winked at her. Rhianna wanted to dislike the man; she really and wholeheartedly did, but at the moment, she just could not. Erik’s smile was so sincere that Rhianna could only return one to him.
As they walked quietly down the lane, Erik had the niggling feeling that he was becoming rather smitten with this perplexing woman. Everything he had thought about her was altered. She was not a hag, but a beautiful young woman. She was not a witch, but a healer. While she could be shrewish, she could also be sweet, compassionate and nurturing. She seemed bold, but her innocence gave her away. When he saw her hurry from his sight as he chopped the wood, he knew. Why, he could still see the stain of shyness as blush flooded her face when she noticed his state of undress. He made certain to put his tunic back on before carrying the wood into the cottage. She may have been left to tend the keep on her own, but Erik had to remember she was probably quite sheltered when it came to seeing men semi-clothed.
Rhianna tried to have pleasant conversation with the man walking beside her so she said, “Where do you suppose Sir Drew went?”
For the second time that day, Erik found himself plagued with jealousy. Drew was such a charmer of the ladies and no doubt Rhianna was not immune to Drew’s ways. Erik had been lucky with women, as well, but not like Drew. Drew never was without a pretty maid on his arm or for that matter, in his bed.
Erik’s eyes grew suddenly cold and he shrugged. Rhianna became fully aware of the change in his mood and she wondered at it. At the mention of his elite guard, Erik seemed to turn back into the hardened warrior right before her eyes. How odd. Was he jealous? That seemed unreasonable to Rhianna. She tried to not give it too much merit. They were strangers, after all. Surely he did not fancy himself attracted to her. Rhianna also decided she did not want to encourage the moodiness in the man walking beside her. She could not be certain what manner of man he truly was, yet. She did not know if he was volatile or prone to bouts of violence, so she let the matter drop. Besides, they had not walked very far when they spied Sir Drew leaning casually against a fence post speaking to a lovely girl. He was clearly courting her and the girl was enjoying his attention.
Spying Erik and Rhianna, he left the girl with a smile and casually walked toward the couple. Drew saw that Erik once again looked annoyed, and he wondered what the girl had done this time. Instead, Erik just handed him Rhianna’s supply basket and took her arm in his own hand. Drew smiled to himself at the not so subtle message which rang clear. Why, Erik was claiming the girl as his own. Finally! Drew actually was happy for his friend. He believed that Erik and Rhianna would realize they were destined for one another.
~Chapter Fourteen~
Aaron Jasper sat before the fire of his crumbling abode at Morcar Keep. Prosperity had not been fortuitous to him. In fact, the holding was rapidly becoming a pile of disintegrating stones. It sat upon a crag near the river, and it gave an ominous appearance in the shadows. Broken balustrades perched black and jagged against the night sky and when there was a moon, Morcar Keep took on a nightmarish visage that kept visitors at bay.
The main hall was strewn with refuse and offal of meals gone by. Rats and dogs alike foraged in the fetid rushes that had not been changed in months or worse. The cesspits outside the castle walls were full with sludge and when the wind was right, they could be smelled from every corner of the keep. Many of his men had deserted him long ago. Aaron actually cared little about that fact. Those who remained were either too lazy to move on or they enjoyed the demise from the restraints of proper society. And demise was an understatement. The inhabitants of Morcar were a lawless bunch of thieves, murderers and rapists. They bowed to no man and no god. They answered to no tugs of conscience and Aaron was content in this path that he had chosen, as well.
One of his spies had told him of a riding party that arrived at the neighboring village to pay a visit to that haughty Rhianna du Montefort’s keep. His man said the guests were riding under the king’s flag. Perhaps, the king had gotten word that Randall was dead and that du Montefort Keep needed to be fortified. The problem was; Randall du Montefort was not dead. Aaron had his guards ambush Randall on his return from an emissary mission. While Aaron wanted nothing better than to murder his foe, he could not bring suspicion to himself.
He wanted to claim the high and mighty witch and take her lands for his own. If Randall was found murdered, Aaron Jasper was not fool enough to think that he would be named the main suspect in the deed. Instead, he had du Montefort beaten and tortured just for the sport of it. Randall du Montefort would never permit any Jasper to marry hi
s precious sister. The witch had been carefully protected and coddled. Randall made no bones that he thought the likes of anyone named Jasper was beneath the station of his sister. Therefore, Aaron Jasper took extra pleasure in giving Randall his comeuppance. He was not so high and mighty after Aaron was finished with him.
Aaron Jasper saw to it that when Randall was at his weakest from the beatings, that he was drugged with a potent spirit to quell his memory. It had worked, too. The man could not even remember his name. It was positively brilliant. Aaron wanted to try a similar dose on the girl, but only enough so she forgot her haughty place, for he wanted her to remember the pain he intended to inflict on her.
Oh, but Aaron Jasper had gotten complacent. Somehow, the bastard brother escaped. Aaron could not fathom how, for in his state, Randall could not have gone far and in fact, he may have ended up dead after all. He had been starved, beaten and drugged. More than likely, he would not have been able to survive. There had been no retaliation against him. The royal envoy that had arrived at Montefort had made no threats to Morcar Keep, so Aaron Jasper thought perhaps he may still have been in the clear.
During most of his life, Aaron had the misfortune of bearing pustules and angry red inflammations on his face, neck and back. Aaron had sought to find ways to heal the constant skin eruptions that had plagued and marred him his entire life, marking him undesirable to females. While cures were never forthcoming, his studies soon turned him to darker practices of alchemy and black magic. His dabbling with these arts created still another reason that the du Montefort witch would be valuable for his taking. She was known for her sorcery in these parts and Aaron thought he could soon turn her to dark witchcraft with perhaps the proper amount of pain.
He might also be able to dose her with some of his most powerful vapors until she became bendable to his will. He absently fingered the scar that ran down his cheek from the hollow socket where his eye had once been. If his pocked skin made him undesirable, that horrible disfigurement now sealed his fate. He had been careless that day, as well, and came out the worse for it when he had sought to pilfer a man’s purse. He had thought the bastard was well in his cups when he reached for the coins.
Instead, the man surprised him and beat him at his own game. It was a steep price to pay for the paltry purse of coins. The dagger meant to take his life slipped and carved out a ridge in his face that looked like a twisted road and took out his eye in the process. Just thinking on that day caused rage to boil forth again. His maiming would not matter once he had the du Montefort witch ensnared. He just had to plan a way to get to her, especially now with the royal envoy at her doorstep.
Grimacing so that the jagged scar in his cheek turned a livid white, Aaron Jasper thought perhaps there was another reason that the envoy had arrived at Montefort Keep; and that had to be to offer for the witch’s hand in marriage to one of the royal lackeys. That thought did not sit well with Aaron Jasper. He needed to act quickly before she became the wife of some high and mighty nobleman. Only, what plan could he put in motion to capture the raven haired enchantress? Especially now that the keep was heavily guarded like a fortress with the king’s entourage present within its walls!
Aaron Jasper had to ponder his course of action to get the witch into his clutches and into his bed. He cared not if there would be casualties in the midst of it. Just what; how could he route out the king’s men so that she was free for the taking like a ripe plum? Yes, there would be ways to cause trouble and Aaron Jasper was a master of just such plans. He would send his scout back to learn the nature of the visit of the king’s men. He would plot his course once he gleaned the information. Just the thought of the reprehensible things he planned for the du Montefort witch brought fire to his loins.
~Chapter Fifteen~
Erik was restless. During the entire walk back to the keep he could think of one thing and one thing only. He felt foolish for his musings. He was a warrior and he was trained in discipline and self-restraint. But for the love of God, he could not stop thinking about kissing Rhianna. It was absurd. Just that, after seeing her in her element, Erik’s heart was opened to the gentle kindness and care she had shown to her people. On their walk back, they had stopped to visit an elderly couple who had outlived their offspring. She took them some honey and some fresh bread and helped tidy their dwelling as neither could get around very well anymore.
Erik’s heart already brimmed with pride at the care he witnessed Rhianna bestow on the sick child, but her compassion with the old couple was something that gutted him. While his own parents were far from elderly, Erik imagined that his Rhianna would treat them equally with love and when they entered their golden years, Rhianna would be a comfort to them as well. His Rhianna…he almost laughed to himself. Just the past day he had dreaded marrying a vile spell-casting hag and here he had claimed her as his own. The truth of the matter was that Erik now wanted to wed her, despite her thorns, for the rose would be worth any pricks, Erik was certain. He was insanely attracted to her. She was beautiful and he could see in her dealings, she had a passionate nature. He wickedly would like to nurture that passion elsewhere. Only, he was pretty certain she did not like him very much. She had tolerated his companionship and was even pleasant to him, but he could sense she was guarded. Rhianna would not be an easy woman to win over, but for some reason, Erik suddenly really wanted to try.
~~~~~
Rhianna went about her daily tasks and tried to put the many disconcerting thoughts out of her mind. She tried to put thoughts of her betrothal behind her. She was not ready to marry the Viking, that she was certain. Except, she could not get the image of him chopping that wood from her thoughts. She tried to not think on it, but it crept back time and again even when she was doing mundane things, like planning the evening meal and checking on the stores in the buttery and kitchens. She thought that if she went to her private herb garden to gather medicinal plants, she would lose herself in her task.
She always loved being out in her garden and finding the choice leaves, roots or petals for her many uses. Whenever she had found herself sad or anxious, even a few moments out in the fragrant patch would help her wash her cares away. As she sat on a cloth beside some of her lavender plants, she pulled out weeds that wanted to disrupt the good things growing beside them. Instead of losing herself, she was plagued with thoughts of him. He could be the most infuriating man she had ever known, but he was also rather intriguing. He had forced her to bear his company as she tended to her people. She wanted to despise him and distrust him, but he had been so helpful. When she expected him to be curt and terse with her, he had actually been quite pleasant and gallant. When he had leaned close to her and kissed her hair, Rhianna thought that was quite endearing. Only, she secretly wished he had boldly stolen another kiss as he had done when he first met her.
This was lunacy! Rhianna had been outraged at that kiss he had taken just yesterday and here she was thinking she had wished he had dared it again today. She supposed it would not be wrong for him to kiss her. They were betrothed in a matter of speaking, after all. She worried her lip with her teeth as she realized she would have to sit the evening meal with him. She had no idea what to even talk to him about. Perhaps if you kiss him, there will be no need for talking….
“Ugh,” she groaned out loud and she hacked at the soil in exasperated violence.
Erik watched from a distance. He had been wandering around the grounds to clear his mind and he saw Rhianna walking toward a fenced garden with a blanket draped over one arm and a basket dangling over the other. She had a small pair of shears strung on a ribbon around her neck and she carried a hand spade. He followed quietly, not to spy on her, exactly, but it seemed he enjoyed looking at her.
He saw her put the blanket on the ground and he watched her digging in the earth. She seemed lost in thought and then he heard her make that sound of frustration. He wondered at it. Now she was stabbing at the patch of dirt beneath her as if she was committing a crime. Ahhh, she did have
a bit of a temper. Erik wasn’t certain why, but that little display made him smile. Maybe an insect bit her and she was spending her venom on it.
He calmly strolled over to her and he knelt beside her. Her eyes widened in surprise and he thought she was going to toss a clod of dirt at him. As a precaution, he took the little trowel from her fingers and he inspected the area that she had dug up. Smiling at her little silent tirade, he asked, “What is wrong?”
“Nothing…I…hate…weeds. Yes, I hate weeds and these were choking my beautiful lavender,” she lied quickly.
Erik was not sure she was telling the truth, but he just nodded and said, “Well, then, I think you have more than had your revenge on them.”
He sat down next to her and he looked around. “This is a lovely garden. I hope you don’t mind me exploring some of the grounds. You see, I have had no one to show me around,” he said wistfully.
“I grow the things here I need to aid in the mixtures I use,” she said shyly. Clearly, he could see that this was an herb garden…say something interesting! He is a soldier in the king’s army and used to women that are worldly. You will bore him to tears with your simple country ways.
“Yes, I see. I thought you were quite remarkable with that baby today. I am intrigued at your skill as a healer.”
Erik was careful to not say “witch”. In truth she was valuable with her knowledge of herbs, but he was not quite certain she wasn’t a witch after all. It was beyond knowledge of herbal mixtures. She had a natural way and a very gentle touch that made her people trust her. She was a good healer, he was quite certain of that. He watched her blush at his compliment and he was once again charmed by her innocence.