by Nicole Locke
He gave a humorless laugh. ‘You see how little choice you give with your demands? The man who is after me is Reynold of Warstone, and the man I killed was his brother, Guy.’
She didn’t know the family, but from the way Rhain said it, he expected her to know.
‘Why did you kill him? Was he...did someone pay you?’
He adjusted in his seat, his only indication he was uneasy with the conversation. ‘Reynold is not fictional. He could be here now. Any one of these people in this garden could be his spy watching us converse.’
He was trying to distract her. ‘Did someone pay you to kill him?’
He looked around, sighed. ‘No, it was a reckless, heated moment.’
Rhain’s answer surprised her. She never saw him do anything that wasn’t methodical or carefully planned. He mocked things, which made people laugh, but he wasn’t reckless. Everything he did was towards providing for and protecting his friends. She’d never seen him behave recklessly except the night with her, when Rudd...
‘You were protecting someone, weren’t you?’
He rested his elbows on his legs again. ‘No protection at all. She died.’
Pain sliced down her middle. There was a ‘she’ who’d died. Rhain tried to protect a woman, someone he cared for very much if his reflective expression was anything to go by.
She had no right to her own sudden discomfort, but in these days with him, there had been no reference to a woman before. But of course there had to be a woman in his past. Rhain was wealthy, unmarried, and women coveted him.
Maybe he didn’t like them looking because he mourned and longed for this woman he failed to protect.
If that were true, she knew how that felt; she had failed to save her sister. ‘Tell me about her,’ she said.
His brow furrowed. ‘Not much to tell. A man killed her and the babies stood no chance.’
She gripped his wrist. She couldn’t stand it. ‘Rhain, tell me what happened.’ No pain for her any more. All for him. All the pain for him.
This was why he’d banished himself; why he was so alone. Children...dead. If she could, she would have killed this man, too. She wanted to kill Reynold simply for threatening Rhain.
‘My God, you’re crying,’ Rhain said.
‘You told me that babies died, how could I not?’
He cupped her chin and rubbed his thumb along her cheek to catch her tears. His expression was full of wonder. ‘All of these for me? I don’t deserve them, Helissent.’
She cried harder then. So much pain for him. So simple to shed tears. ‘I can’t seem to help it.’ She wanted to gather him to her, to...hold him. ‘What was her name?’ she asked instead.
‘I don’t think she had a name, not one that I ever heard.’ He dropped his hand. ‘Oh, you should see your expression. Anger now, pity before. Do you recognize it’s another gift you give me with your emotions? I’m in the mercenary business; no one tells the truth let alone displays it on their faces. But why are you—?’
‘Rhain, how could you not know her name? This woman who died, who had your children!’
He chuckled, but there was an encompassing warmth in his eyes. ‘I didn’t know her name because she was a dog.’
‘A dog?’ She knew she displayed every emotion she felt. She didn’t care if she looked the fool. She felt his pain from before, felt it now.
Rhain nodded. ‘Simply a dog. No one claimed her as their own, but she and a pack of others were always begging for food. I must have fed her the choicest pieces because she followed me around the most.’
‘So the babies were puppies?’
He nodded and turned away from her. His elbows on his knees again, his hands clasped as if in prayer.
Not a wife or a child, but he still hurt. She felt it. ‘Oh, Rhain, I’m so sorry.’
‘Because I was a fool? I was kind to her; it was why she was beside me when she gave birth and that’s when Guy found me. He wanted to do business right then and I told him no. I knew what kind of man he was, that he didn’t desire fortress protection or to correct border disputes. He wanted murderers. I knew the caliber of man he was and had no intention to agree to his terms.
‘But the dog had just given birth and my true thoughts were on her. Instead of courtesy or formality, I gave Guy of Warstone a blunt no and didn’t raise my eyes to him.’
She’d dealt with cruel unreasonable customers before. She could somewhat appreciate the kind of man he’d refused.
Rhain shook his head like he was the unreasonable one. ‘I’ve been a mercenary for five years, a knight before that. I’ve been doing this a long time because I’m one of the best.
‘I know how to negotiate, to interact with men like him,’ he continued. ‘Never take your eyes from them. Always stand on higher terrain. Never kneel. Never show interest in anything that could be used against you.
‘When Guy stepped into my tent, I was kneeling by that dog’s side, helping her with the birth. The babies had just started suckling...’
He pulled in a breath and pressed his hands against his knees. It looked as if he was bracing himself for what he was telling her. She wished she could brace herself, too.
‘He stomped on her belly, then ground his heel on her head before I could stand. Before I could take my sword and gut him.’
Helissent shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
‘Nicholas immediately killed Guy’s two guards while I gathered the puppies and we fled. We had spare horses then, but they were getting shod and we had to leave them. My men fled with me. Except Nicholas, no one knew what happened. I compensated the men. Some were...indisposed. We were to be there another week of rest that they deserved. I put them on the road again.’
Pain in the telling. Incredulousness as if all his reasoning fled him. She had felt like that before. When she entered her home to save her sister. Nothing is rational in the heat of the moment. It doesn’t make it less real.
‘So for this dog’s death, and Guy’s,’ she said, ‘you have the Warstone family, Reynold, after you?’
‘Reckless. Ancestors would laugh if they knew.’
How to make him understand? ‘She wasn’t only a dog,’ Helissent said. ‘She was your friend and she knew you were hers because she trusted you when she was most vulnerable.’
He put his face in his hands. ‘I couldn’t save her. The puppies...they’re all dead. Fleeing, we couldn’t find another nursing female. I tried to feed them other kinds of milk, but they wouldn’t take. I thought one would, but then...’
He lifted his head, his hand clenching. ‘You’re crying again? You’ve a soft heart.’
She wiped her tears. A soft heart, but only when it came to him. ‘I haven’t cried like this since the innkeepers came for me.’
‘Too many gifts you give me.’ His eyes searched hers, dropped lower and lingered on her lips. ‘Too many gifts I still want.’
She watched how his expression changed, how his brows drew in. How a muscle ticked in his jaw when he tilted his head and faced her more fully.
‘Like what?’ she whispered.
He cupped her jaw, his thumb caressing just under her lower lip. ‘I want to know, though I don’t deserve it...’
His hand was warm against her cheek. His thumb was roughened by callouses. But his touch was soft against her lower lip.
His eyes lingered; his thumb pressed. Her lips felt swollen from the need for kisses he hadn’t yet given. Dry from air she couldn’t seem to breathe. She parted her lips, inhaled the smell of the garden, of him. Took another quick breath, greedy for more.
Taking in all of her responses, his eyes flared before his lids grew heavy. ‘Though I can’t do anything about it as a knight, as a man should...’
She was aware of the silence in the garden, of the zeph
yr through the fruit trees. She was aware of the slight sound she made as she wetted her lips and the almost helpless tone he used as he said, ‘You are, aren’t you?’
‘I am?’ she said, feeling the soft air across her tongue.
‘As sweet as your cakes.’ He dipped his head, lifted her chin with the barest of pressure.
The heat inside her flared like the fires in an oven that she’d just fed, then he brought her lips to his. Warm. Firm. A hint of ale, of sage. Of him.
* * *
Better than cakes, better than melting honey, and all too brief. Rhain lifted his head.
Her taste was more than he’d dreamed of. He wanted only to give her a kiss, to sip from her lips. She was so soft, so tenderly giving as she sat next to him and shed her tears.
Except the kiss didn’t feel simple when Helissent’s eyes darkened and wonder lit her face.
Not simple at all, when he pulled away, rubbed his thumb against her lips and she let out the slightest bit of sound...of need.
That was his undoing in this. Already unraveled with the telling of London, of the danger to him. Now desire was filling him. Her hands clenched in her lap, her body turning towards his. Wanting more.
Rhain, branded by her taste, wanted more. His thumb pressed harder and her lips parted. A sound. His? He tunneled his fingers through her hair, and lifted her chin.
To press his lips, to catch her hitched breath. To deepen his kiss. Soft, wet, heat. To claim—
A sound of horses clattering outside the garden walls.
He pulled away. Exhaling roughly from the temptation she made, from the questions entering her eyes, Rhain looked away, scanned the empty garden. Two kisses too many. Two kisses even more dangerous than telling her about Guy and Reynold.
With a breath, a stab to his own heart, he stood and offered her his hand. ‘We should leave; get some sleep.’
‘Why did you do that?’ She took his hand.
‘Sleeping at night? It’s a habit I’ve picked up.’
Helissent wasn’t letting go of his hand, and he knew he was in trouble. More because he wasn’t letting go either.
There was a warmth in her eyes like she was amused at his attempt at humor, but there was heat there as well.
‘You kissed me,’ she said.
Her eyes searched his no doubt for answers he didn’t have. He didn’t know why she was different. In the past, he had found and gave pleasure, but it had always been light-hearted.
Since learning the truth of his birth, whenever he was tempted by women, it had been easy to walk away. All he had to do was remember that frozen moment of reading his mother’s books, of knowing the truth, to remember he could never spill his seed with a woman. That any future, of a family with children, was denied him since he was born.
But he couldn’t seem to remember that with Helissent. They had shared themselves with each other. His need for her went beyond lust and temptation. Though he felt them both keenly now.
‘I can’t seem to stop,’ he answered.
‘Do it again.’
A twist of need he just held back. ‘Helissent, you don’t know what you’re asking.’
‘I do. I just never thought myself brave enough to ask.’
He cupped her chin in his hand, felt the slight tremble and tightening of her fingers entwining with his in the other. He saw no hesitation in her eyes, no worries. Only want.
He wanted to be the man to feed that want, but he couldn’t. Two kisses too many.
‘You’re a maiden. You deserve a man who will stay to marry you, to have children of your own. I’m not that man.’
He saw the want in her eyes dim, the bravery fade. Even before she stepped away and released her hand he felt the loss.
* * *
Rhain’s words cut jaggedly through Helissent’s heart. So suddenly, she startled with the sting of tears she just blinked back. Rejected. Unwanted.
What made her ask for a kiss? She should have known this would be the response. She deserved this response. Still, she asked, ‘Is it because of my scars?’
Rhain closed his eyes and cursed. When he opened them, the amber of his eyes was darker than she’d ever seen them before.
‘You’re torturing me,’ he whispered. ‘I’m wanting to do what is right by you.’
Despite his words or his actions, and her own beliefs of acceptance, it was because of her scars. What else could it be?
She yanked up her skirts and ran.
Chapter Eighteen
It was after the evening meal when Rhain found her in the cellars of the inn. He should have looked here first when she ran off, but he hadn’t known what to say, or what to do.
Then as he searched for her, Allen and Nicholas intercepted him to report Reynold’s whereabouts.
Reynold was either within York’s walls or at least nearby. He’d been seen. Nearby enough that Rhain shouldn’t be pursuing a woman, or worrying about her tears and anguish.
Certainly he shouldn’t be standing next to her in public gardens, or searching for her in her rooms where Reynold’s men could easily note his actions.
But dinner had come and gone, and Helissent never returned to her room. Though he needed to be circumspect, he wouldn’t leave things as they did in the garden. He could be dead by tonight.
At least for now, it was private in the cellar. Helissent hadn’t noticed when he opened the door. He could gather his thoughts and words. The correct words he should have said before.
Yet, he still didn’t know what to say; couldn’t grasp why she ran. So he watched her walking with her hand trailing along the ale barrels like she was counting them. Then lifting her nose to scent the drying herbs. Another step, her hand slowing so that she was almost embracing the rounds of cheese.
She should have been reveling in the supplies here and the opportunity to continue her baking.
But he knew she wasn’t taking inventory, wasn’t thinking about all she could cook or serve with such bounty. When she did that, she hummed that song and was boundless in energy.
Now she almost shuffled, lost in thought; she didn’t turn when the door closed behind him. Didn’t realize the light in the cellar had brightened, then dimmed.
He noticed the light revealing her features, the darkness shadowing them. So like the inn. The left side of her face illuminated to show her exquisite beauty; he’d soon see her other side that weakened him. But that wasn’t what made him stop.
It was the tear tracks down her face. He knew he should turn away then, that he had no right to be here, had told her he wasn’t the man for her.
But there was nothing that could tear him away now. Not until he knew she was happy. Tell her she could sell the sweet-salt he gave her and use the coins he’d hidden amongst her things. Tell her she could have another life altogether. Just...not with him.
‘There were more supplies in Tickhill’s cellars, no?’ he said.
* * *
Helissent whirled around, almost stumbled into a barrel before righting herself. Standing tall, she shook from the sudden jump through her body at Rhain’s voice. Rhain who stood inside the doorway.
‘You scared me.’
‘If you expected to be left alone, you shouldn’t have come to an empty cellar at the end of the night.’
Rhain shoved the hood off his head until the lit torches cast him in shadows and light.
Her shadow man, who said something mocking, but his tone meant something else.
She quickly brushed her cheeks, though it was most likely too late. He was too keen not to notice details like her crying. Maudlin. Pity. She, who had no right to any of it, and yet, something inside her couldn’t seem to stop. It was him, the mercenaries, the exposure to York. It had changed her somehow, showed her how life could be
different. Or she thought it could. Until the garden and Rhain’s rejection.
Which was why she was in the wine cellar avoiding everyone. ‘Do you need something? I thought I left the others well versed.’
Rhain took the few stairs down to her level. His head brushed the top of the ceiling until he stepped past the eaves.
‘Everything was brought to the tables. Piled high and more beautiful than at Tickhill.’
‘But it doesn’t taste good. Something was wrong with the fried apples?’
He shook his head. ‘Not if Mathys licking his fingers was any indication.’
He took another step closer. There was nowhere she could go. The barrels and shelves lined both walls under the arched ceiling. It was a small path down the center. Just enough to walk to the end and back again. She couldn’t walk past him. He took up too much space.
‘Then why are you here? Why aren’t you eating?’
‘You’re not there dining with me.’
She didn’t understand this man at all. They’d agreed he’d take her to York. He’d done that. Then he’d said all that about wanting to kiss her, but stopped because of her scars. There was no reason he was here.
She wanted York because she wanted to get lost here. Rhain and the mercenaries weren’t letting her get lost.
She should be happy, surrounded by supplies, by food and the chance to try some of the recipes from Tickhill.
Instead she had come here to the cellars. To the cold and dark that was the closest she could find to the caves. To escape and soothe the sudden sense of inexplicable loss as she peered through the doors and spotted the mercenaries eating her food.
It was reasonable for them to eat where they wanted to, but knowing they were leaving, she wasn’t prepared to see them again. Especially not after Rhain’s rejection.
Why wasn’t Rhain leaving her alone?
‘I’m trying to make a life here. That means I’m serving food, not dining with the customers.’
His brows drew in. ‘Why the tears?’
‘Dust.’
‘It is...dusty here.’
He didn’t need to believe her. ‘This is my home now. I’ll have to get used to it.’