“Be that as it may, Bryce, Lisbeth is mine, given to me by the king no matter what you think or what she wants. The king has given her to me along with Glen Kirk. I will take her now.”
Bryce stole a glance at her, an arrogant sneer on his face. Still in his cloak, he touched the spot where his clasp had been.
Ramon stepped behind her and poked her shoulder to encourage her down the stairs. Stumbling, she grabbed the railing to prevent from falling.
She stood in the large room feeling lost, alone, but more than anything, betrayed. Anger began to take the place of self-pity. She raised herself to her full height, determined not to let her reaction to anything he said register on her face; rather she gave the appearance of not caring.
How he must have laughed at her foolishness. For a few moments she thought she could be happy and safe. She never imagined the king would barter her off.
Alex turned and left. His men followed. He motioned to Gareth. “Bring her.”
*
Outside they mounted up. He had her sit on his lap. She worked hard to maintain an air of indifference. It wasn’t until they had gone a comfortable distance from Ravencroft that she let her rigid back finally relax.
“Lisbeth, why did you leave the castle? I gave orders everyone was to stay on the grounds.” His voice was devoid of emotion. It hammered at her and beat her down.
“In retrospect I used poor judgment. It will not happen again.” They rode on. “Is the king coming to witness our wedding, m’lord?”
“No.” Wasn’t he going to explain himself? Didn’t she at least deserve that?
She felt his muscles harden and turned to face him.
“We were married by proxy. The king stood as witness. And before you ask, Bryce knew. He was a witness along with the rest of the court.”
She turned away and closed her eyes. She was silent and defeated. “Is the king planning to take his bridal rights?”
“Lisbeth, of course not.”
Before his words were out she continued, “Will the court witness our marital bed to ensure I’m an innocent?”
“Stop, you go too far. I would never agree. Surely you know I wouldn’t.”
She refused to look at him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain or the dried tracks of tears that had run down her face. “I’m sorry, m’lord. I don’t know any such thing. You see, I didn’t realize I was nothing more than part of your winnings from the king.”
They rode on in silence. She sat stiffened with dignity but inside, inside she was an empty shell.
*
Alex brought the small troop to a halt. He moved Prime away from the others and dismounted. He put his hands around her waist, helped her down, and walked her to a grove of trees. “From where are you bleeding?”
She looked at him with her head tilted. “Why would you think…”A picture of the blood by the hearth flashed in her mind. “I’m not bleeding.” Ice was in her voice. “It was Bryce’s blood you found.”
“What were you doing at the lodge?”
Lisbeth started to walk away but he put his hand on the tree trunk to stop her. “I asked you, what were you doing at the lodge?” In his other hand he showed her Bryce’s gold clasp.
She could still see Bryce stroking the spot where the clasp belonged, smiling at Alex just an hour ago.
“Do you ask out of concern for me or concern for your property?”
“Answer me, Lisbeth. Did you sleep with Bryce?”
Stunned, she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. How could he think she would ever… With the flat of her hand she smacked him across his face with every ounce of strength she had.
There was thunder in his gray eyes. A storm the likes she had never seen. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and stared into her eyes searching for something. She struggled to get free but he held her fast. He twisted the hair he held, then pulled her close to him and gave her a punishing, angry kiss. He pushed away and the storm subsided. For a moment he studied her intently. His smoldering stare entranced her. He kissed her again with an urgency that left her breathless.
He took her by the hand and brought her to Gareth. “Take her with you.” He walked away.
She rode the rest of the way to Glen Kirk with Gareth but her eyes never left Alex. She noticed him give Prime the lead and race ahead of the troop. They were far out in front making their way to the other side of the meadow when Alex veered away from them and took off.
She seethed with anger and pain. Over and over his condemning words battered her. She is mine. Given to me by the king. Bring her. Did you sleep with Bryce? He had treated her like a piece of baggage. She didn’t know where Alex had gone. With any luck he’d end up with the other protectors.
The thought no sooner popped into her mind when she felt her chest ache. She had hoped. She had felt. She had trusted. She had daydreamed impossible things. Now she was bereft and empty. She choked back a sob and felt Gareth’s chest rumble.
“Patience, m’lady, there’s much we don’t know and can’t see.”
*
Alex rode trying to outrace the storm brewing inside him. He’d felt her eyes on his back at Bryce’s hall. He heard her astonishment, the quick intake of breath, when he demanded her from Bryce. He watched her pale at the thought of being his wife. Now he raced away from her. Or did he race from himself? The thought caught him by surprise. No, he had lost her. He drove Prime harder until he found himself back at the hunting lodge.
He rummaged around in the cellar looking for ale. Everyone knew Wesley kept the lodge cellar stocked. He turned a corner and collided into a rack of neatly lined-up casks. “Ah, there you are.”
He grabbed a nearby pitcher, filled it with ale, and dragged himself up the stairs. By nightfall he was slumped at the table in the dark, cold room. He struggled to open his eyes. A lone moonbeam filtered in from the window and provided the only light. He dare not straighten up. The pounding in his head wouldn’t let him.
A cool hand ran across his neck. “Lisbeth?” He sounded hopeless even to himself but there was no answer. “Have you come to save me again?” He grabbed her hand but she fought to get free. There was a tugging at the nape of his neck. He brushed it way and finally forced his head up. Her cloak billowed around her as she floated out the door and out of his life. “Lisbeth, you don’t understand.” He cradled his head in his arms on the table. He held on to the amulet that hung around his neck. Sleep once again overtook him.
He gathered her into his arms and placed one hand at the small of her back. She rested her head against his bare muscled chest. Her soft fingers gently stroked him. The anticipation was unbearable, but he waited.
With his eyes closed, he skimmed his hand over her body. He was like a blind man memorizing each curve. He explored the hollows of her back, traced over the flare of her hips, and glided down her thigh. She cuddled closer, her soft curves molding to the contours of his hard body.
“Mine,” he whispered softly into her hair.
“Forever,” she responded.
He opened his eyes, and gently tilted her head up. She looked at him. His gaze traveled over her face and searched her passion-filled eyes. Her trust and hunger sent the blood coursing through his veins. He released her and she tucked her head back onto his chest.
Her warm fingertips traced the scars on his chest. Each touch set off sparks of pleasure. Her forefinger trailed down the mark under his collarbone. He struggled to calm his body and submit to her intimate torture. She followed the weal across his heart and stopped. She laid soft kisses along the line. He took in a quick breath and fought for control. Her soft fingers continued down the long scar over his lower stomach. He dare not move. Every movement kindled the fire higher. He thought he would burn to a cinder.
He placed a gentle, reverent kiss on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed when he bent and covered her lips with his. His kiss was long and deep. Her lips parted, and he took full advantage slowly and tender
ly. The taste of berries was on her breath. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and softly claimed her for his own. The urgency of their kisses built until he thought he would burst.
Carefully he eased her down. Her clothes gone, his hands seared a path from her neck, over her breasts, across her stomach, and down her thighs. Her face was a mirror of her emotions. Her desire turned to ecstasy.
Tenderly he kissed the base of her throat and left a trail of kisses to her breasts. His hands roamed lovingly over them. Gently he stroked and coaxed them, feeling them surge at his touch. His hand lightly brushed her hardened nipples and she moaned. His arousal was complete.
“Mine.” The word slipped from his lips.
Raw hurt glittered from her vibrant green eyes. “By the king’s decree, m’lord?”
“No.” He tried to gather her close in his arms but she was gone. “Lisbeth.” He called to the empty room. His heart squeezed in anguish. She was truly lost to him.
*
The morning sun, and a complaint from Prime, brought him back to the living. He sat at the table, his head in his hands. The reality of his loss was cold and exact.
“Alex.”
“Who’s there?” He glanced at the door but didn’t bother to get up.
Jamie rubbed his hands together. “Drinking are you? It’s no fun to drink alone. Did you save some for me?”
Alex peeked into the pitcher, turned it upside down, and shook it. “Not a drop—go get your own. Wait.” He held up his hand. “I’m the lord here and you’re my guest. I’ll get the ale.” He stood up on unsteady feet.
Jamie tapped him on the shoulder sending him back into the chair. “You stay put. I’ll get the ale myself. I wouldn’t want you cracking your head nor do I want to carry your dead weight up the cellar steps.” He left and moments later brought back a full pitcher.
“She’s tossed me over for Bryce. Bryce. She didn’t deny it. I thought… I thought…”
“For Bryce?”
“I told her not to leave Glen Kirk. We tracked her here, then to Ravencroft. Go look inside for yourself.” He pointed to the bedroom.
“I don’t have to look at the room. Go over everything again just as it happened. Don’t leave one thing out.” Jamie moved a chair by the hearth to the table. “What’s all this blood?”
“Lisbeth said it’s Bryce’s but he didn’t look like he’d been injured.”
Jamie searched the floor. He found droplets that led to the window. He went outside and a few minutes later returned. “You’re right. The blood isn’t Bryce’s. I found blood spots on the other side of the window and in the garden. They led to a dead rabbit in the hedgerow. It wasn’t killed by an animal. Its neck has been sliced open.”
Alex picked up his head and tried to think clearly. He remembered one of his men mentioning a dead rabbit.
“Did you ask her why she was at Ravencroft?” Jamie sat by the table, the ale forgotten.
“No.” Alex gave Jamie a questioning look. He held his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “I asked her why she came here. I didn’t ask her why she was at Ravencroft.”
“She didn’t tell you why she was there?”
“No, Bryce did. I told him I’d come for Lisbeth, and he said she had asked for sanctuary, sanctuary from me.”
“What did you say?”
Alex leaned his back against the chair. “Why, I told Bryce she was mine, given to me by the king.”
“And she heard you?” Jamie slapped his hand on the table. “Did you explain to her afterward?” Jamie sat forward and jabbed his finger on the table to make his point clear.
“I did not. I told her we were married by proxy, nothing else.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He got out of his chair and paced in front of Alex. “You’re a prideful man, Alex. Your pride is a good defense with your enemies, possibly even your king, but not with your woman. Pride won’t keep you warm at night nor bring a smile to your face, a laugh to your heart, or a babe to your arms. Pride can be cold and lonely.” He sat back down at the table.
“Faith.” Alex ran his hand through his hair, pulling at it more than smoothing it down. “I felt her eyes on my back while I stood there protecting her.”
“Protecting her! Possessing her is not protecting her.”
Alex faced Jamie totally sober. “If I told him anything else, she’d become his pawn and in more danger than you can imagine.”
“You think Bryce is the enemy?”
“That’s the thing of it. Bryce knows about the marriage. He knows it’s a directive from King Edward. There is nothing he could gain but to create difficulty between Lisbeth and me. Something was not right. It’s as if I faced a different man. Yes, an enemy. I knew she was in danger, and I had to get her out of there. I chose my words carefully when I evoked the king’s name. He could not argue, and that was what I wanted. I had to get her to safety.”
“So why do you think she was at Ravencroft?” Jamie’s brow was creased with worry.
“I don’t know. Bryce had to know I would come after her.” He felt the screams of frustration building inside him. He jumped out of his chair and sent it flying. “Faith. He’s outsmarted me, Jamie. I’ve done exactly what he intended. I declared Lisbeth my property, like livestock, given to me by the king. He wanted her to hear me.” He paced the room. “What’s Bryce up to?” He pounded his fist against the stone wall.
“Bryce knows you very well. He knows what you like, don’t like, where you excel, but most of all Bryce knows your fears,” said Jamie.
A flash of anger raced through Alex. “John told me she wanted to come to the lodge to see Laura. He reminded her I gave orders that everyone was to stay on the castle grounds. He never thought she would do otherwise.”
“She may have thought Laura was here and wanted to make certain she was safe. That’s like Lisbeth. I’m certain she didn’t go to Ravencroft for sanctuary. She’s the only person who can tell you.”
“I asked her if she slept with Bryce.”
“You asked her what?” Jamie bellowed.
“Look at the room. I found this.” He opened his palm revealing Bryce’s gold clasp. “I found it in the bed.” He clenched and unclenched his fists and paced in front of the window. “What was I to think?”
“You should have asked her what happened. If he was sleeping with Lisbeth, do you think he would disclose it to you? Jeopardize her? Especially with your king involved.”
“You’re right. I’m not—”
“I don’t see you have any choice. You’ve got to get the truth. Bryce certainly didn’t give you the whole of it.” Jamie got up.
“Jamie?” Alex asked as if he saw the man for the first time. “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, you finally noticed.” He slapped Alex on his back. “I came looking for your sorry arse when you didn’t arrive at Glen Kirk with the rest of your troop.”
“And why were you there?”
A large grin spread over the Scot’s face. “I heard Lisbeth was missing. I arrived when your men stormed through to the castle. I was relieved to see her but you were nowhere to be found. This was the last place I expected to find you.”
“I’m glad you came.”
“You’d best get back to Glen Kirk. Clean yourself before you return. You’ll scare them to death with the way you look. Whatever you do about Bryce, be careful.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen him in battle. He’s a ruthless enemy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Alex, his mind clear of the ale, entered the castle preoccupied with what he would say to Lisbeth. His ears picked out the sounds of grunts and fighting coming from the Great Hall. He dashed to the hall doors and threw them open. In front of him, to his relief, were his page, Peter and another boy practicing with their wooden swords. Alex, at first ready to dismiss the event, was caught by the intensity and style of their playing.
“Hold, Darby.” Peter put up his makeshift sword and faced Alex with a sheepish grin. Da
rby did the same.
Alex remained quiet and realized both boys breathed heavily. They weren’t playing; they were training. His interest piqued, he evaluated them with a leader’s eye. Peter was noticeably smaller than Darby and probably younger but he’d held his own in the fight. Actually, he was doing quite well. The boys were evenly matched.
“You boys do this often?”
Peter stepped forward. “It’s not Darby’s fault, sir. I kept after him. He’s the only one that gives me a good fight. We know the raiders threaten, and we want to be ready if you need us, sir.”
“Who taught you to use your sword, Peter?” From the boy’s very stance he knew he’d had some training.
“I’ve watched the men train and copy what they do.”
Alex looked from one to the other and wondered if there were other boys in need of training. He’d speak to Gareth and Robby.
“Sir, may I ask you a question?” Peter shifted from foot to foot, his nerves apparently getting the better of him.
“Aye.” Alex waved his hand.
“How do you win a fight if you’re evenly matched? Darby and I can go on for a long time and neither of us wins. We stop because we can’t raise our arms. I’ve watched the men train. They hit each other hard and often, but their arms never tire and the match is called before anyone wins.”
“That’s a good question. No soldier wants a long fight. You want to conserve your strength. Your objective is to disable your enemy so he cannot fight and you can move on to the next. If you’re evenly matched you look for advantages. It may be the terrain, you want to stay on the high ground and force your enemy to fight up. It may be the situation. You want the sun at your back and force your enemy to fight with the glare in his face. Or it may be something you know about the fighting field that your enemy doesn’t. Use the things around you to make the advantage yours.”
Alex watched the wheels turn in the boy’s head.
“Start again and let me see if you’re ready to begin training.” He knew the value in making the boys work for a place on the training field.
Both boys eagerly took their starting position in the middle of the empty hall. They lunged and parried. Alex admired the determination in their eyes, and for a brief moment remembered how he had felt when he trained with his father’s sword master.
Ruth A. Casie Page 14