by Jody Hedlund
I peeked from between my lashes again and this time saw the young, thin accomplice who had ridden with Juliana the day she’d robbed me. Beyond the boy stood several other peasants, their shoulders stooped and heads bent under the low roof of the cave. Strangely, strands of what appeared to be roots hung from the ceiling. The light from several torches illuminated the crumbling dirt walls and a nearby tunnel.
I closed my eyes and breathed in the mustiness of damp earth that mingled with wood smoke. I dug through the straw until my fingers brushed against the soil of the floor. It was hard, almost clay-like.
Were we underground?
“Collin Goodrich might be a nobleman,” Juliana finally said, “but he’s kind.”
“And kidnapping you was kind?” the man retorted.
If the peasants made their homes in underground caves, that would explain why I’d lost track of her. She’d likely entered through some secret passageway they’d made impossible to locate.
“I don’t care what you think about Collin,” Juliana said. She was attired in men’s garments, and she’d tucked her hair up into her knit cap. Even so, now that I knew she was a woman, I didn’t understand how anyone could miss seeing her for the beautiful lady she was.
“I’ve had the chance to get to know him,” she said, “and I like him.”
I had to stifle another smile. She liked me. Suddenly the battering and humiliation I’d taken at the hands of the growling peasant was worth it.
The gruff man grumbled again. “If you don’t want me to kill him, then I say we dump his body back on Goodrich land.”
“But he’s hurt,” she protested. “I think you broke a couple ribs and gave him a concussion.” Her voice drew nearer.
I forced myself into absolute stillness as she knelt next to me. Her leg brushed against mine, the woodsy scent of her cloak whooshed over me, and the warmth of her hand soaked into my arm.
For a long moment, I couldn’t breathe. She placed a fluttering hand upon my chest and then bent her ear near my mouth, clearly worried about my lack of breath. She drew close enough that her ear brushed my lips.
“I’m relieved to know you like me,” I whispered, unable to contain my grin any longer.
She gasped and jumped back.
In an instant, my attacker was at her side, his knife unsheathed and pointed against my heart.
I ignored the man and stared up into Juliana’s luscious brown eyes. “Hi there, sweetheart,” I said with an expanding smile. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
She scowled at me. “How long have you been awake?”
“It’s nice to see you too.”
“Did you see the entrance?” the peasant demanded, digging the tip of his knife so that it pierced my chest. I couldn’t keep from flinching.
“Bulldog!” Juliana knocked the man’s beefy hand away, sending the knife twirling to the hard-packed earth. “I told you not to hurt him.”
“And I told you I’m not,” the man yelled back. “If a couple punches and pricks hurts His Royal Highness, then he better crawl back to his mama’s lap where he’ll be safe.”
I chuckled, the movement rattling my sore ribs. I nodded at Bulldog. I had a feeling I was going to like this feisty man, but I also knew that I would have to work hard to earn his trust.
The warmth of my blood seeped into my tunic, turning the fabric a brown-red and drawing Juliana’s attention. “Now look what you did,” she cried out, and pressed her fingers against my newest wound. “That was deeper than a prick.”
Bulldog muttered under his breath, shook his head, and then stomped away.
Juliana ripped the edge of her tunic, and before I could stop her she’d edged my shirt up to the spot above my ribs where Bulldog’s knife had cut me. She pressed the piece of ragged linen against the slash.
I sucked in a sharp breath. I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from the fact that I was lying before her with my bare chest exposed and her hand upon it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staunching the flow of my blood. “Bulldog isn’t too happy you followed me here.”
“I thought he looked overjoyed.”
“He always has more bark than bite.” Her gaze flitted to the hard contours of my chest, her eyes widening before flying quickly back to my wound.
As much as I liked having her aid, I knew I was putting her into a compromising situation by lying before her half naked. I pried the piece of rag from her fingers, sat up, and let my tunic fall back down. “Bulldog is right. It’s just a nick. I’ll be fine.” I glanced at Bulldog, who was still watching my every movement, his knife ready to throw should I attempt anything.
Yes, I was surely going to like Bulldog. “He’ll stop hating me once I show him the purse of gold and jewels.”
“I don’t want your wealth.” She sat back and folded her arms. She’d been gone from the castle for less than twenty-four hours and already her face was streaked with mud and soot.
“I told you that they were yours, and I’m not going back on my word.”
“I won’t hold you to our deal. ’Tis my fault that I didn’t finish my week—”
I yanked the purse out of the secret pocket of my damp cloak and tossed it toward Bulldog, who was squatting in front of the fire. “This is Juliana’s. But she’s turning her nose up at it.”
Bulldog captured it with a swipe of his hand. He glowered at both of us, his dark brows furrowing together into a menacing line. Then he pried at the knot on the pouch. When he spilled the contents to the ground, the cavern turned silent.
I slid the diamond necklace from my pocket. “Here’s one more thing for your collection.” I tossed the jewel to Bulldog.
The man caught the sparkling necklace and then let it dangle from his hand above the pile of coins. When he finally looked at me, his brow had arched.
I nodded at him solemnly.
Bulldog nodded back.
And somehow I knew I’d gained the man’s approval, albeit barely. If only I could tell Bulldog he had nothing to worry about, that I wanted to keep Juliana safe more than anything. If only I could convince them all that the safest course was for her to return to the castle with me.
I was planning to stay and complete my part of the bargain, whether Juliana wanted me to or not. In fact, maybe I wouldn’t leave until she decided to come back with me.
Chapter
12
“You left without saying good-bye,” Collin whispered near my ear, making my stomach quiver.
He was sitting against the dirt wall next to me, in front of the fire. Its blazing warmth had finally dried our clothing.
“I didn’t think you’d care,” I said softly, conscious that Bulldog hadn’t stopped watching me, always scowling and ready to spring at Collin. The others had finally fallen asleep, as was our normal custom during the daylight hours—except for times I went on special “hunting” trips.
“Of course I care.” Collin’s fingers brushed against my hand at my side. I was helpless to resist when he slid his fingers into mine and laced our hands together.
Heat shimmied from my hand to my arm and then to my heart, making my pulse sputter faster. I was tempted to turn and look into his eyes, realizing how much I loved looking into the green that sparkled with endless mirth.
I hadn’t expected him to trail me back to Wessex land. Surely he realized by now that my presence in his home had only been a hassle and would eventually bring both of us trouble.
“Besides,” he said, “I promised you that I’d come visit your home for a week to learn more about what life is really like for the peasants.”
I shrugged. At the time I’d made the bargain, his visit had seemed like a good plan. But Bulldog had made it clear that, trusted or not, Collin wasn’t welcome. He’d demanded that the young nobleman be blindfolded at nightfall and taken far from our cave homes.
Part of me wanted to agree with Bulldog. My wise friend was only doing what he thought was best for all of us. But now,
with Collin’s fingers intertwined in mine, I wasn’t sure I could let him go.
“Won’t Lady Irene be worried about you,” I asked, “and send out a search party?”
“I told her I was escorting you home, and that I would likely be gone a week.”
I let my shoulders sink back against the chilly earth wall. Surely no one would suspect anything if he stayed. What harm could befall us?
“And why would I want to return home?” he whispered, humor edging his voice. “Not when I received such a friendly reception. I wouldn’t want to miss my chance at having a few more ribs broken.”
“Bulldog told me you didn’t resist him or defend yourself.”
“That’s because, every once in a while, I like being beat up by angry peasants.”
I smiled and nudged my shoulder playfully against his. “Are you ever serious?”
His fingers tightened against mine. In the darkness of the underground cave, the flickering flames of the fire cast a glow over his face and lit up his eyes. “I’m serious when I say I’d allow myself to be thrashed any day in order to see you.”
Had he let Bulldog capture him and almost kill him, just so he could be with me? “You’re crazy,” I whispered.
“Not half as crazy as you,” he whispered back. His arm pressed against mine, so that the hard length of his muscles rippled against me, reminding me of the smooth, defined contours of his chest I’d seen earlier when tending his wound.
I’d merely reacted to the sight of blood and hadn’t stopped to think when I’d pulled up his tunic. I’d tended plenty of wounds for my friends in the past. But I’d never reacted to seeing their bare flesh the same way I had Collin’s. He’d been noble to sense my discomfort and pull his garment back down.
The crackle of the fire filled the comfortable silence between us, along with the soft snores of my companions who were spread out on pallets around the fire.
Collin stifled a yawn.
“Why don’t you sleep for a little while?” I suggested.
“If I close my eyes, I’m afraid Bulldog will slit my throat,” he retorted dryly, glancing at the bulky frame of my protector.
Bulldog had finally closed his eyes, but I could tell from the uneven rise and fall of his chest he hadn’t fallen asleep and likely wouldn’t as long as Collin was there. “He’s a good man. A second father to me.”
“I think his son likes me even less.” Collin glanced to where Thatch lay sprawled on his mat next to me, his eyelashes resting against his thin, freckled cheeks.
Thatch had scowled at Collin almost as fiercely as Bulldog had. The poor boy blamed Collin for the whipping Bulldog had given him when he’d returned home without me last week. I didn’t begrudge the boy his anger.
“He’ll forgive you once he gets to know you better,” I said.
“He’s besotted with you, that’s clear enough,” Collin said. “And I think he’s jealous because you like me more than him.”
“Thatch is only a boy.”
“A boy on the cusp of manhood. A boy who’s beginning to see you as the beautiful woman you are.”
Was that true? Thatch’s straw-colored hair poked out from his cap, which he wore even in sleep. He’d grown taller of late, so that his braies rose above his knees. And his toes poked through holes in the worn leather of boots devoid of laces that had long-past rotted away.
“I feel sorry for him,” Collin said in a low voice. “You broke his heart when you fell in love with me.”
My gaze swung to Collin as fast as the flap of a bat’s wing. Fell in love with him?
I couldn’t deny that I’d done nothing but think about him since the moment I’d slipped over the walls of his castle. After running for hours, I’d finally picked up the trail of one of our hunters and caught a ride back to camp with him. But through the dark hours of the night, images of Collin had haunted my every step.
Bulldog had greeted me with yells and snarls, but his shoulders had sagged with tangible relief and his eyes had brimmed with all the love he had for me. Yet even back in the security of his care, along with the glad embraces of my people, my heart had ached. I hadn’t understood the longings, hadn’t been able to make sense of the confusion stirring my discontent. Until now.
“So you have fallen in love with me,” Collin teased. “At least you’re not denying it.”
“Of course I’m not in love with you,” I whispered hotly, pulling my hand out of his grip. “I barely know you.”
“You know me well enough.” His voice dropped a notch.
“I know that you’re terribly arrogant if you think I’d fall in love with someone like you.”
He gave a soft chuckle that was altogether too self-confident.
“You’re a nobleman,” I hissed. “And I could never love a nobleman.”
“That’s too bad,” he said lightly. “Because I’m pretty sure that I’m falling in love with you.”
At his whispered confession, my breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t formulate any kind of coherent response.
When his fingers found mine again and closed around my hand, my heart finally pounded forward again, but at double the speed. I didn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.
Strangely, I felt I was back where I needed to be. I let my fingers mingle with his and nestled my hand deep into his strong palm.
“You left this,” he said, reaching for my other hand and sliding a thick ring onto my thumb. The polished silver contained the warmth of the finger where he’d worn it.
“It’s yours,” I said, but I didn’t make an effort to remove it.
“I gave it to you. And I want you to have it.” There was a possessiveness in his voice that settled deep into my soul. And when he wrapped his strong fingers around my hand, holding it with the other, I didn’t resist. In fact, I let my body slump against him, suddenly tired but happier than I could remember being in a long time.
I didn’t want to think about anything too deeply. I just wanted to savor the moment of being with him again. With a soft sigh, I rested my head against his shoulder. And when he pressed a gentle kiss against my cap, it felt as if it were the most natural action in the world.
I didn’t know what was happening to me. All I knew was that I couldn’t send him away as Bulldog wanted. Not that night.
Maybe not ever.
I DIDN’T HAVE THE HEART TO TELL JULIANA THAT HER blindfold wouldn’t stop me from retracing my steps and finding the secret passageway if I wanted.
“Are we there yet?” I asked.
She gave me a playful push. “You’re worse than a child. You’ve asked me that a hundred times already.”
“And that’s why you love me,” I teased back.
She didn’t say anything.
I grinned and drew hope from her silence. At least she hadn’t denied me again. And she hadn’t given me back my ring. She was still wearing it on the thumb where I’d lodged it, even though Bulldog had raised his brow at the sight of it there.
We’d dozed and talked all afternoon and evening, sitting against the dirt wall holding hands. Then, after night had fallen, Juliana had blindfolded me and we’d slipped quietly out of the underground hovel. Apparently, sometime during the day Bulldog changed his mind about allowing me to stay. For how long, I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I’d take all the time with Juliana I could get.
“It’s my turn to show you what a real party is like,” she said from behind me, her hand upon my back and guiding me through the thick brush.
When we reached a small clearing, she untied my blindfold, revealing a bonfire and a gathering of at least fifty women and children. Some of the women were busy cooking over large pots, others were kneeling at a nearby stream scrubbing and laundering their pitiful rags of clothing by the low light of the fire. The children were running around, many of them barefooted in the cold temperature of the autumn night.
Over the open firepit, several men were in the process of roasting a boar, t
urning the spit and laughing together. The dripping juices and wafting scent indicated the meal was almost ready.
I blinked back my astonishment at the number of assembled peasants as Juliana stepped next to me, taking in the gathering with a smile.
“How many live here?” I asked, my gaze alighting upon a young boy with a missing leg limping on a crude crutch.
“We’re up to about eighty.” Her smile disappeared as she surveyed the gathering with more seriousness. “Every week, we grow. And it becomes more difficult to feed and clothe everyone.”
A posse of men led by Bulldog came into the clearing from another direction. They were armed and carried several crates between them.
“I imagine it’s getting more difficult to stay hidden from your uncle too.”
She nodded. “That’s why we only come out after dark. We make sure everyone is back in the caves before dawn breaks.”
She didn’t have the chance to say more. The children had spotted her and scampered over. At first they cowered away from me, clutching Juliana and receiving her kind words and tender embraces.
“I’ll let you do the honor,” she said, tossing me her sack. “Since you’re the one providing for my friends tonight.”
I pried open the drawstring to reveal figs, apples, a dozen hard rolls, and a large wedge of cheese. “I see you took a detour to the kitchen on the way out of my castle.”
“You must thank Lord Collin for his generosity,” she told the children, all the while grinning at me.
I smiled in return, but as I began to hand out the food items to the children, an ache formed in the pit of my stomach. Their faces were too thin, their fingers too eager as they clasped their treasures. And as they devoured their meager gifts, their wide eyes filled with fear of me, almost as if they were afraid I’d snatch back the food before they could finish.
The sick gnawing inside me only grew throughout the feast that ensued. I wanted to refuse the slab of greasy pork that someone passed to me and tell them to divide my portion among the children. But Juliana’s headshake warned me against it. They were tolerating me because of her, even though their wary glances told me they’d much rather that I leave. Refusing their generosity would be like a slap in the face.