They emerged from the forest and trekked up the road. One by one the wagons and families peeled off. Most would stay with relatives. The few that remained quickly found accommodations. The livestock was herded to the pen. Alex, Robby and Gareth continued on to the castle.
Alex entered the foyer and stopped. His gaze darted around the room alighting on one thing, then another. The magnificence struck him. The stone walls glistened clean and fresh. The aroma of lavender and spice filled the air. He entered the Great Hall. Each wall was adorned with a large silk tapestry. Some depicted armies and others gardens. They were filled with color and warmth. The sideboard, dressed in linens, proudly displayed the silver plate. The hearth was clean, the fire warm and welcoming. He turned to Gareth.
“This is reminiscent of the castle when Lord and Lady Reynolds were in residence.”
Alex thought the man soaked up the atmosphere. Some of the twinkle was back in Gareth’s eyes. How wrong he had been to think of Glen Kirk only as old stones. Lisbeth’s touch was everywhere. Any man would be proud to be lord of this castle. Glen Kirk was worth defending, not for the king, but for Lisbeth. He had to tell her everything. He ran his hand through his hair. Where to begin? By telling her she was his wife.
Ann rushed through the hall with filled tankards for Alex and his captains.
“Have Lady Lisbeth join me in the Great Hall,” Alex instructed his page.
Peter ran off, coming back a few minutes later.
“M’lord, Lady Lisbeth isn’t on the grounds, and she’s not answering her door.”
“Ann.” He stopped the housekeeper. “Where’s Lady Lisbeth?”
“M’lord, she’s been working night and day to get things in order before your return. I noticed her on the steps. I think she’s resting in her room. I’ll go fetch her.”
“No, let her rest. The morning is soon enough.” He didn’t have the heart to disturb her. Tomorrow. He would talk with her tomorrow.
*
Lisbeth avoided Alex and his troop on the road. She knew the forest and stayed well out of sight. She spotted the smudge of smoke from the lodge chimney and relaxed. Laura was there and she was safe. She ran up the path, threw the door open, and stopped.
“Bryce. What are you doing here?”
Bryce stood at the hearth, his back to the door, a tankard of ale in his hand. He froze at the sound of her voice. The tankard was halfway to his mouth. He straightened with apparent difficulty and turned to face her. He fumbled the tankard and sent its contents splashing into the smoldering fire. The resulting aroma of the hissing mist was a combination of wood and rich ale. His eyes swept up her body from her hem to her hair.
Her eyes were fixed on the red stain spreading across his white linen shirt, then flashed to his face.
Turning set him off balance. His legs buckled and he fell sending blood splattering over the floor.
“Bryce.” She dropped what she was holding and ran to him. She tore his shirt open and searched the wound. There were telltale signs of bark and moss. He began to move. “Bryce,” she said softly. “What happened?”
“I was going back to Ravencroft. My horse stumbled. The beast threw me and I landed on a downed log. One of its broken branches jabbed me like a lance.” He winced in pain. “The lodge was close. I came here thinking I could find something for the wound. All I found was your father’s ale.”
“I’ll help you.” She got up and removed her cloak.
“No.”
She stopped mid-step and searched his face.
“I don’t need your help. I just need some bandages to stop the bleeding and I’ll be off.
“Bryce, I need to see the depth of the wound. I can see it needs to be cleaned.”
He took a deep breath and stood up on wobbly legs. She lent him her shoulder. Two steps were all he could take before he started panting.
“Let me help you to the bed in the other room. You can rest and leave for Ravencroft when you’re able.”
Lisbeth couldn’t help but see the look of indecision written on his face. She would give him time to think it through. He didn’t have many alternatives.
Bryce looked to the bedroom and nodded.
She helped him shuffle into the other room and eased him onto the bed. He tugged at his cloak to get it off, causing the clasp to pop and fly into the folds of the covers. He stretched out on the bed. Once he was settled and as comfortable as she could make him, Lisbeth went about and gathered what she could, then returned to his side. She bent over and examined the wound carefully. Zhure nas sheer naf durzh. The ancient healing song filled her head.
Bryce kept moving under her touch.
“Just one more minute. I must make certain it’s clean.” She saw fear, stark and vivid, in his eyes. “The wound’s not deep. It may not even leave a scar.” Once she was satisfied the wound was clean she applied a bandage. Tired and achy, she straightened and let out a sigh of relief.
“I need only rest for a few minutes, then I will leave.” His eyes closed as he spoke.
She let him rest. The stress of the day caught up with her. She was relieved that Laura hadn’t come. Now every fiber of her body told her to go back to the castle. But she couldn’t leave Bryce in his condition. She dropped into the chair in the other room and put her head on the table. The nagging at the back of her mind refused to be still.
Hours passed and Bryce slept. She on the other hand got no rest. She stood at the lodge door and stared at the horizon with tired eyes. Pink streaks ran across the brightening sky. Why had she come here? Ah, to make certain Laura was safe. She should have known better. Jamie wouldn’t let her come if there was danger about.
She grabbed the water pitcher from the table, her cloak from the peg, and stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind her. She wandered to the orchard in back of the lodge and picked one of the last apples off the tree. She brought the fruit to her lips and took a bite. The juice from the fruit splashed out of her mouth and trickled down her chin. Surprised, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
The sound of stomping hooves coming from the barn broke the silence. But the vision? Could it have been Bryce? She looked toward the lodge. It must have been. Bryce’s horse whinnied. She hadn’t given much thought to the animal. At least he’d found his way to the barn. Hopefully an extra ration of oats and an apple would make up for the horse spending the night in its tack. She picked up an apple from the ground and traipsed to the barn.
She opened the door and came to an abrupt halt. She expected to see the abandoned horse still in its saddle and halter. Instead the animal was comfortably situated in a stall with fresh water in the trough. The saddle and halter sat on the saddle stand. She walked over, stroked its muzzle, and let it take the apple from her outstretched palm. She checked his legs and found no injuries. She patted the horse’s silky neck. It appeared Bryce had gotten the worst of the stumble.
She left the barn and went to the well for some fresh water. From Bryce’s condition when she arrived she wouldn’t have thought him strong enough to haul water, settle in the horse, or start a fire in the hearth. She lowered the bucket into the well and heaved it back up. She poured water into the large pitcher. Movement in the bedroom window distracted her. The bucket slipped from her hands and fell, with a loud splash, back into the well.
Bryce stood at the window naked from the waist up. His body was scarred like Alex’s. She realized that when she touched Bryce, she felt nothing. None of the breathtaking body throbbing feelings she had with Alex. She pushed the thoughts of Alex away and brought her focus back to Bryce.
From where she stood, he looked well rested. He could certainly go on to Ravencroft. She hurried back to the lodge eager to dismiss her patient.
“Good morning, I see you’re up and about.”
Bryce closed the chest lid and turned at the sound of her voice.
She stood at the bedroom door. “Let me look at the bandage.” She put the pitcher on the table beside her. “I’ve
brought some fresh water. I’ll have it heated for you in a minute. The linens aren’t in there. I’ll get you a fresh one.”
When she returned she found him sitting on the edge of the bed clutching his head. She peeked at the wound. It was clean. “I’d rather not disturb the bandage. The wound appears not to be bleeding. I can get you on your way to Ravencroft.”
“I can’t stand without feeling my stomach roiling.”
“Are you certain?” She cloaked her annoyance. He still had his head in his hands. “When I saw you from the window you looked recovered.”
“I thought so too.” He looked up at her. “I don’t know what happened.”
The pain in his eyes startled her. She felt guilty for wanting to be gone. After a moment’s thought, Lisbeth offered, “I’ll go back to Glen Kirk and get help.”
“No, the raiders are active in this area. I went to Glen Kirk to warn Alex. I can’t let you go back to Glen Kirk by yourself.” He peeked up from his hands. “No, I’ll escort you back to Glen Kirk…” His voice trailed off.
“It will take just as long to go to Ravencroft as it would to go to Glen Kirk.”
“I need to go to Ravencroft, and I can’t leave you here alone.” He raised his head. He looked more tired than she first thought.
“I could go with you to Ravencroft.” She found the very idea disturbing but what choice did she have?
“I suppose. I can have one of my men escort you back to Glen Kirk. I can see no other way.”
The decision made, they broke their fast with bread and apples. Then Lisbeth helped wrap Bryce in his cloak. Bryce patted the place of the missing fastener.
“You’ve lost your clasp.”
“I’m sure I will see it again.”
Chapter Twelve
“M’lord?” Alice stood in the estate room in front of Alex.
Alex’s head popped up from his ledger.
“Keep still, woman.” John admonished in a low voice.
She looked up at him, fear in her eyes.
Alex looked from one person to the other. The woman was wringing her hands. He closed the book and sat back. “What’s amiss?”
Her lips trembled. “I can’t find her. I’ve looked everywhere.” Her voice was a whisper. “Her bed has not been slept in.” The room was silent.
“John, what’s Alice talking about?”
The burly man hesitated. “Lady Lisbeth, sir. We can’t find her. When Alice went to help her dress this morning she found the room empty.”
Alex sprang to his feet, knocking the book from his desk.
Startled, Alice let out a yelp. Tears filled her eyes. “It’s the curse. I know it’s the curse.”
“Quiet, you silly woman, while his lordship thinks,” John barked at her.
She sniffled but her tears didn’t stopped.
“I’m certain I know where she is, m’lord. The hunting lodge. She was afraid Lady Laura would be there. She asked me to take her but I told her you ordered everyone to stay on the castle grounds.”
Gareth entered the room with Robby. “We asked the villagers if they’ve seen her. The baker remembered she stopped at his stall and bought some bread. He noted she headed toward the forest.”
“He was distracted.” Robby spoke up. “He thought to call after her but by the time he looked back she was gone, walking with Lord Mitchell. He assumed she shopped at one of the other stalls.”
“Bryce was with her?” questioned Alex.
“As far as we know he was with her only a short while before he rode off. The rumor she’s missing has spread quickly. There’s great unrest in the village and among Wesley’s men, m’lord. Even our men are rumbling.” Alex noted the concern in Robby’s voice.
Gareth stepped forward. “She’s everyone’s favorite, which doesn’t surprise me.” Usually unflappable, uncertainty crept into Gareth’s expression. “Lord Alex, she and Laura probably got to talking and lost track of time. I’m certain we’ll find them both cuddled and cozy at the lodge.”
Alex nodded, deep in thought. “John, Alice. Thank you.”
As John helped Alice from the room, Alex couldn’t help hear the two speaking. “Do you think they’ll find her?”
“Lord Alex won’t let anything happen to our lady.” They left the room and closed the door behind them.
“I specifically told her not to leave the grounds.” Curses fell from Alex’s mouth. “Get some men and come with me. We ride to the lodge.” He stormed out of the estate room in a fit of anger.
*
The trees flew by in a blur. Alex drove Prime hard through the forest, forcing his men to keep pace. The once-brilliant colors of fall were now brittle and brown. Rotted leaves exploded from under the horses’ hooves. He took the steep slope as if he were attacking an enemy. His unease grew with each stride. He arrived at the level section of the forest and urged Prime on. Something was terribly wrong. He had to get to her now. The closer he got to the hunting lodge, the stronger the feeling grew. He knew she was in danger.
He rushed into the clearing with a burst of speed. At the lodge door he jumped off Prime. He plowed through the door with the hope he would discover the two sisters comfortably chatting. His hopes were dashed. The dark room was vacant.
Gareth, Robby and the others filed in behind him. No one made a sound.
Alex stalked into the bedchamber. The sheets were a tumble. He ran his hand through his hair trying to piece together what had happened. Deep in thought, he returned to the main room.
“Search everything. Leave nothing out, and quickly, men. We must find her.”
The men spread out through the lodge and combed through everything. Determination was painted on each face.
“Sir, the ash in the hearth is fresh, a day old at most. Someone left in a hurry by the look of how this fire was put out, dowsed rather than knocked down.”
“Sir, there’s blood by the hearth.”
Alex crouched down and examined the red stains on the floor. He stood up slowly, looking around the room, and followed the trail of blood into the bedroom. He pulled the linens back. In anger he ripped them off and heard the tinkle of something hitting the wood floor. At his feet he saw a gold clasp with the Mitchell crest. Had he met her at the market to make arrangements? Alex picked up the clasp and fisted it in his hand. He walked out of the room. Murder was on his mind.
“Here, m’lord, I found a loaf of bread.” The soldier tore a piece off to feel its texture. “Day old by the feel of it.” He briefly hesitated. “And this, m’lord.” He pointed to the floor.
Alex’s blood ran cold when he picked up a pouch that lay on the floor near the table and looked inside. He pulled out charms, like the ones he’d found in the field when he met with Jamie. It was Lisbeth’s pouch. She was never without the little bag.
Alex stalked out of the lodge. His men were scattered across the grounds in search of any clues. “Anything?” he asked the men.
“Only a dead rabbit, m’lord.”
Alex examined the perimeter with Gareth and stopped at the far end.
“Here, m’lord,” Gareth called out. “Tracks.”
Alex joined him at the edge of the clearing and examined what he found.
“One set of tracks. From the depth of these prints I’d say the horse is carrying a heavy load.”
“Yes.” Alex stood and eyed the tracks into the distance. “They’ve headed toward Ravencroft.”
A cold chill fired up his spine. He couldn’t shake the suspicion. If anything, the sensation spread. He worked hard at not drawing any conclusions but found it difficult. “Mount up.”
*
“Lord Mitchell, Lord Stelton has arrived.” Alex was on the man’s heels. He didn’t wait to be ushered in.
Bryce looked at his father.
“Good day, Ramon.” Alex gave a gruff greeting.
“Stelton.” Ramon marched past him and continued out into the corridor.
“Alex, what brings you here?” Bryce stood at the far
end of the room.
“I was following a trail that led me to your door.” Alex advanced. His strong determined footsteps thundered across the floor until he stood in front of Bryce.
“Has it now. Have you lost something?” he asked smoothly, a hint of a smirk on his face.
“No, not really. It merely wandered off.”
“You should attend to your things better, m’lord.” He dipped his head.
Alex wished he could wipe the self-satisfied smile off Bryce’s face.
“There’re times when they can never be recovered.”
“I will take your good counsel into consideration—the next time.”
“So I’ll ask you again, Alex—what brings you here?”
“I’ve come for Lisbeth.” The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He fought to keep the casual tone in his voice and a smile on his face, but the mood was anything but congenial.
“I can’t let you take her.” Bryce drew out his reply. “She’s here under my protection.”
*
Lisbeth rested, at Bryce’s suggestion, while he got a man to take her back to Glen Kirk. She must have nodded off. She woke to the sound of clattering hooves on the cobblestone. She rushed to the window. Relief flooded through her when she saw Alex and his men ride into Ravencroft. She grabbed her cloak and searched for her pouch. She didn’t remember taking it off. Did she have it with her on the ride to Ravencroft? No, she must have left it at the lodge. She opened the bedroom door and was startled when she found Ramon standing there scowling at her.
“Your Alex is here.” Ramon grabbed at her arm. She winced and pulled it away. Great welts sprang up where he scratched her but Lisbeth ignored the pain. Free of the old man’s grasp, she dashed to the top of the stairs. She had an odd sense of being liberated for in truth she had always felt uncomfortable at Ravenscroft. This time was no different. Her stomach was clenched tight but she forced herself to calm down. Alex stood facing Bryce below in the hall. She looked at Bryce. He had made a miraculous recovery from the morning. She would never have known he’d suffered so severely.
Ruth A. Casie Page 13