Wildly Romantic: A Multi-Genre Collection

by Lana Williams

  “Of course, Baroness,” he answered. “But deciding to take this journey now wouldn’t by any chance be to escape the new husband the king decides to send you, would it?”

  “I will abide by any decision my king makes, and I’ll not have you saying anything differently.” She held the wooden cup up to her lips and took a sip of wine.

  “Of course, my lady, please forgive me. It’s just that . . . ”

  “No more about that. Now, we have a job to do. This woman named Fenella not only killed my father, but she stole something from my mother that day that was very precious and cannot be replaced. I am here now to collect it.”

  “You mean the emerald ring your father gave her.”

  “No, not that, though I plan on collecting that as well. What I’m speaking of is something much more valuable and also dangerous in the wrong hands.”

  “What is it, my lady? You can tell me.”

  “It is . . . a book,” she answered. “A very valuable book. My mother probably wouldn’t have even told me about it had not her health been faltering quickly lately. I need to find and return this item to assure she does not die from an addled mind.”

  “Forgive me for speaking freely, but it almost sounds as if you think there is something that can actually cure an addlepated mind. There is no such thing, my lady.” The guard chuckled. “Unless you are looking for a witch’s book of spells or something of the sort.”

  “How can you say that when you, of all people, knew how religious my father was?”

  “You are right. Please accept my apology and I will learn to hold my tongue.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said, taking a sip of wine. Oh, if the man only knew how close he was to the truth. But no one would suspect anything of the sort once the item she was looking for came out of hiding. After all, her mother had seen to it that her secret had stayed hidden when she hired someone to write those potion spells and medicinal charms into a book of prayer and devotion – the Book of Hours.

  Now her answer lie with the man named Onyx, she was sure of it. Because even if she never found the book, this man being the demon they say he is, may just know a spell or two that would help to clear her mother’s muddled mind and bring her back to normal.

  She pushed up from the table so quickly that her gloves slipped from her lap and fell to the soiled rushes of the floor.

  “My lady, where are you going?” asked Weldon. He scooped up the gloves in one motion, and came to stand at her side. Her other guards were quickly on their feet as well.

  “Sit back down and stay here,” she said, straightening out her gown. “I’m going to talk to the demon man.”

  “Then, I’ll be at your side.” Weldon had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  She looked up and noticed the Scots all gathering around slowly. “Nay. And take your hand off your sword. We don’t want a bloody melee right here in the pub. I’m just going to try to get some information from him. Don’t intervene unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand me?”

  “Aye, of course.” He raised his hand and motioned for the rest of the men to sit back down. He just leaned on the trestle table and crossed his arms but did not take a seat.

  “I know he’s keeping information from us. Just leave it to me, I’ll get it out of him,” she told him with a slight smile.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I saw the randy wench waiting for him, and know that he’s probably craving a pretty woman right now.” She pinched her cheeks for color, then reached up and removed her headpiece and put it on the table, and let her hair spill down over her shoulders. Then she tugged on the bodice of her gown to expose the tops of her breasts.

  “Baroness,” said Weldon, his face looking flushed at seeing her this way. “What are you doing?”

  “Don’t any of you mention this to anyone when we get home,” she warned her men. “You do and I’ll have your heads for it, I swear I will.”

  She took a deep breath, then released it, and headed over to the man, figuring once he set eyes on a pretty woman he’d be a blubbering idiot and confess everything. This wasn’t something she’d ever done before, but she figured she needed to drop her standards slightly and try to do something to entice him After all, these barbaric Highlanders would never give information to a respectful, proper lady such as herself.

  If anyone back at the castle found out she was strutting around like a strumpet, she would surely die of shame and embarrassment.

  “Dagger, ye need te stop drinkin’,” warned Callum. “Yer eyes are gettin’ thet crazy look te them again. I think ye are feelin’ stressed, and if what yer mathair said is true, than thet is no’ a guid thing at all.”

  “I’m aggravated and angry,” he admitted. “Me mathair is keeping things from me and I dinna ken why.”

  “What do ye mean?” asked Callum.

  “It disna matter,” he said, looking down to his empty cup and shaking his head. He never really confided in anyone with his problems, and wasn’t going to start tonight.

  “Dinna look now,” said Callum drying a glass with a rag, “but thet English lassie is headed right in yer direction.”

  “Dagger,” Onyx heard from behind him, and turned to see that the woman had followed him over to the drink board. He was surprised that her lackeys weren’t fastened to her elbow, and that she’d approached by herself.

  “Only me good friends call me Dagger,” he said, trying to get a last drop of whisky out of the glass. “So dinna call me that again.”

  “All right then . . . Onyx. I thought perhaps we could have a drink together.”

  She sat down next to him at the counter, and Onyx felt like this night was going from bad to worse. If only his birthday had been the way his friends had planned, he’d be in the stables bedding one of the Trotter triplets right now instead of trying to ward off a haughty English bitch. The worst part was, he’d probably never have another chance with the triplets after not showing up for their little rendezvous. And lord knows, he wanted them badly.

  “I tol’ ye I have nothin’ te say to ye.”

  “Dagger, what’re ye doin’, ye bluidy bastard?” came Aidan’s voice from behind him. He turned to see his friends approaching, with the three randy sisters clinging to them like barnacles on a ship.

  “Aye, ye never showed up fer yer . . . present,” said Ian, pushing his leine back under his plaid as he walked, and fastening his weapon belt around him. They all looked like they’d had a satisfying tumble in the hay, and Onyx cursed under his breath for missing it.

  “Thet’s right, Onyx MacKeefe, ye left me waitin’ in the cold, and I’ll ne’er lay wi’ ye now, so dinna bother te ask – e’er again,” said the sister he knew was supposed to have been his. He didn’t even know any of their names, but then again, what did it matter? The girl reached out and slapped him across the face. Well, now the best part of his birthday was ruined.

  “Let’s go,” she said to her sisters, and they took off across the room.

  “Dagger, who’s the lassie?” asked Aidan, brushing down his tangled hair with his hand and throwing a stray piece of straw to the ground.

  “I’m Lady Lovelle de Lacy, Baroness of Worcestershire,” she said and held out her hand to the boys. They both grabbed for her hand to kiss it at once, and Onyx just blocked them with his arm to stop them.

  “She’s a Sassenach,” he said in a low voice.

  “She certainly is,” said Ian, his eyes fastened to her. He was interested in any good-looking lassie, even if she were English. He was also always able to get any woman with just a smile. “Me name is Ian and me friend is Aidan, me lady.”

  She just smiled and nodded her head at the introductions.

  “No wonder ye didna show up in the stables. Ye had yerself a better present inside.” Aidan crossed his arms over his wide chest, a silly smile painting his face.

  “I’m here looking for someone,” Lovelle said. “Perhaps you gentlemen can help me.”
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br />   “Nay, they canna,” Onyx interrupted. “Callum, I think I need another drink.”

  “Fenella willna like thet, Dagger,” said Aidan, and Onyx just cringed inside.

  “Oh, so you do know the woman I’m looking for. Her name is Fenella, and I can’t imagine that is a very common name,” she told them.

  “Aye, we ken Fenella,” agreed Ian. “She is Dagger’s mathair, dinna he tell ye?”

  “No,” she said, half-smiling and shaking her head as she looked toward Onyx. “I can’t say he did. So where is Fenella, boys?”

  Onyx noticed the way she was using her smile and that good-looking body of hers to lure the boys into telling her exactly what she wanted to know. He and his friends weren’t used to being around such a refined lady. He shook his head in disgust by the way Aidan and Ian’s tongues were hanging out of their mouths no better than slobbering hounds following after a bitch in heat. If only they could see how they were acting. Onyx felt unaffected by such things as beautiful women – but probably only because he knew he never had a chance with them, with his friends around.

  “There’s no one here by thet name and they dinna ken anythin’. Isna thet right?” Onyx glared at his friends. They finally figured out what was going on, and he could see the look of apology on their faces as they smiled and just shrugged their shoulders.

  “So you’re not going to tell me where she is?” The woman tried to use the smile on him and leaned forward to expose her cleavage. For one small moment, Onyx felt like clay in her hands and was willing to give her whatever she wanted just for a chance to taste her lips and run his hands over her soft curves. His body was aching for a woman, and he was still angry at having missed out on the Trotter triplets. But this woman was a lady, and that excited him even more, because he always liked a challenge. So mayhap he wasn’t as unaffected as he thought.

  “Nay, I’m no’ goin’ te tell ye,” he told her, looking away from her rather than to focus on that alluring cleavage any longer and be pulled under her spell.

  “It’s all right, Onyx. Ye dinna need te protect me anymore.” He heard the voice of his mother, and looked up to see her standing at the foot of the stairs just beyond the drink board.

  “It’s her!” The old dockman appeared in the crowd and pointed close to her face. “She’s the one, I tell you. I’d know her anywhere.”

  “I should o’ kent ye’d ne’er stop givin’ me trouble,” said Fenella. “Twenty years later and ye’re still sellin’ yer secrets fer money, ye bluidy bastard.”

  Instantly, the guards surrounded his mother, and Onyx and his friends moved forward to protect her.

  “I see you have my mother’s ring on your finger,” said Lady Lovelle, pointing to Fenella’s hand. Onyx had always thought his father had given that ring to her. Or at least that’s what she’d told him through the years, and he’d believed her. Now he was starting to have his doubts about anything she’d ever told him.

  The baroness nodded to her guard, and the guard reached out and pulled the ring from his mother’s hand. He took a step forward to intervene, but stopped when his mother looked at him and shook her head.

  “Mathair, is thet true?” asked Onyx. “Did ye really steal the ring?”

  “I consider it a payment fer the life of me husband,” she spat.

  “You also stole something very valuable from my mother, and I want it back. I think you know what it is.” Lady Lovelle walked up to Fenella and crossed her arms over her chest when she spoke.

  “I’ll ne’er tell ye where I hid it. I’ll go te me deith with me secret.” She spat at the guard’s feet, and he grabbed her and held out his sword when she started to struggle.

  “Take her away,” ordered the baroness.

  Onyx’s dagger was in his hand instantly, and his friends followed his action with their daggers as well. But before anything happened, Storm MacKeefe appeared at the top of the stairs and shouted.

  “There’ll be no bluid shed here tonight.” He came down the stairs slowly, and joined them. “Now tell me, what is it this woman stole and why do ye think ye can just take her away?”

  “We’re taking her back to England where she’ll die by hanging,” said the guard.

  “For stealin’?” asked Storm with a chuckle. “A harsh punishment fer such a crime. I’d think ye’d put her in the stocks or the dungeon or perhaps dye her hand red, or even take off a finger, but no’ kill her.”

  “She’ll be tried by the court and just punishment will be served for the crime she’s committed,” said Lady Lovelle.

  “And what crime might that be?” asked Storm.

  “Twenty years ago,” said the baroness with her arm outstretched, “this woman murdered my father.”

  Chapter 3

  Onyx had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. Someone accusing his mother of doing something he knew could not be true.

  “Haud yer wheesht,” he said, telling the girl to hold her tongue. “Me mathair did no such thing as murderin’ anyone.”

  “These are strong accusations,” said Storm, stepping forward. As clan chieftain, he had the final say of what would happen to Fenella. “Ye have no right te accuse her o’ such unless ye hold proof o’ this crime.”

  “We have eyewitnesses who saw her leaving Worcester Castle,” said the guard, “as well as the dockman here who saw her escaping afterwards on a ship to Scotland.”

  “Dinna tell me ye took twenty years te find the lassie,” said Storm. “That I willna believe since ye say ye ken it was her.”

  “I was the one to pursue this after such a long period,” Lady Lovelle spoke up. “My mother decided not to continue the search once the guards told her that my father’s assailant had disappeared.”

  “Why would ye want to?” asked Onyx. “Why would ye do such a thing? Ye’re too young te e’en have ken yer faither, so I doubt it’s becooz o’ yer fond memories o’ him.”

  Everyone in the pub gathered around, and the Scots slowly unsheathed their dirks, daggers, and swords from their sides. The English guards did the same. The Scots outnumbered the English guards and it would be no trouble to take them down and silence them. Onyx knew the men didn’t have a chance for escape now.

  Mothers grabbed their children and held them close, and the young girls stayed far away from the Englishmen.

  “True, I didn’t know my father,” said the baroness, taking the ring from the guard and placing it on her finger. She blew her breath on the stone and then shined it on her gown. “But this woman also stole from my mother, and I will see to it my mother’s things are returned.”

  “Ye have yer ring back, now let it lie,” spat Onyx. “Go now afore it’s too late. Trust me, ye dinna want te start a fight here and wit’ so many Scots present. Ye dinna stand a chance.” Onyx took a step toward his mother, but a guard moved forward and blocked him.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said the guard. He nodded to one of his men who opened the door to the pub. A cold gust of wind blew in, and with it snow. Onyx looked up to see another half dozen soldiers standing in the doorway, and this time he recognized the king’s coat of arms upon their chests. “You see, we have the king’s men on our side as well.” He motioned with his hand and the men marched into the room. Then the guard reached out and took a hold of Fenella and pushed her toward them. “Take her back to King Edward, and he’ll see she gets what she deserves for killing one of his barons. I think he’ll be very happy the murderer has finally been caught.”

  “Nay!” shouted Onyx, raising his dagger and rushing forward, but Storm was faster and blocked his way, gripping him by the wrist.

  “Put away the dagger,” Storm told him. “Ye dinna make a move like that against the king’s men unless ye want te answer te King Edward yerself.”

  “We canna let them get away wit’ this,” he ground out. “Storm, ye need te do somethin’.”

  He noticed the Englishwoman taking her gloves from the guard, and slapping them against her hand. “There’s
naught he can do,” she said, walking right up to him. “That is, unless you find what she stole and bring it back to England before she’s sentenced.”

  “Me mathair is being wrongly accused,” he told her. “Isna thet right?” he asked, looking up to his mother whose arms were being held by the guard. Instead of the anger on her face he’d expected to see for this absurd accusation, he just saw his mother with her head down and shaking it sadly.

  “Fenella?” asked Storm, walking up to her. “Did ye kill this man or no’? Tell us now, becooz if ye are innocent, ye ken we will all fight te the deith te protect ye.”

  “Thet’s right,” said Onyx, gripping his dagger tightly. “I’ll kill e’ery one o’ ye English curs.”

  “Onyx,” his mother said in a stern voice. “Ye will do no such thing. I am guilty fer the crime they say I committed, so put down the dagger afore ye get yerself killed, ye fool.”

  “Nay!” He started forward, but Storm held out his arm to stop him. “Ye’re our laird, do somethin’ fer crissakes,” he told Storm.

  Storm’s eyes scanned the room filled with English soldiers, and then he looked at every Scot there who was well in their cups, but willing to fight if need be.

  “We are in the Lowlands and this isna the place or time fer battle,” he reminded Onyx. Yer mathair admitted te the crime,” he said in a low voice. “And I willna risk the lives o’ me clan or any o’ the Lowlanders here tonight either, protecting a lass who is guilty. Nay, Onyx, I am sorry te say she must pay fer her crimes.”

  “Take her away, said Lady Lovelle’s guard, and the king’s men hauled his mother to the door.

  “Mathair,” cried Onyx, rushing after them in fury. Aidan and Ian grabbed him from behind and held him back.

  “Dinna be a fool,” warned Aidan. “There are wee ones, bairns, and lassies here.”

  “Aye,” agreed Ian. “Ye raise thet dagger again and they may all lose their lives.”

  “Just bring me what was stolen, and I’ll personally ask the king that your mother gets a lighter sentence,” the woman told him.