Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me

by Lana Williams

  The priest laughed nervously. He looked down at her hands as though he’d forgotten he still held them. “I’m sure you have many wonderful ways to describe her, my lord. I can only imagine. You are a most fortunate man – er lord.”

  Elizabeth jerked her hands free from the cleric’s and turned to greet her husband. “Good day, my lord.”

  Nicholas frowned.

  She braced herself for Nicholas’s correction of what Father Michael had said, knowing his words would be harsh, but to her surprise, he said nothing more. Uncertain what made him refrain, she said, “I was just telling Father Michael that we expect William to recover.”

  “Has there been any change?” Nicholas glanced at her before looking to his brother, his expression filled with such hope that she caught her breath. He moved to the bed and touched his brother’s arm with a gentle hand.

  In that moment, Elizabeth decided she wouldn’t stop until William opened his eyes in response to Nicholas’s touch. “Not yet, my lord. Mary was able to get him to take quite a bit of the tea during the night. We should see results soon. Isn’t that right, William?”

  Father Michael looked in question at William, then back to Elizabeth. “Has he awoken?”

  “Nay, but we expect him to soon.”

  “Then why are you speaking to him, my lady?” The priest’s perplexed expression was almost comical.

  “To make him realize how many of us await his return. Perhaps he can hear what we say.”

  Father Michael’s face lit with fascination as he mulled over her idea. “Really? That is a brilliant suggestion.”

  Nicholas scoffed. “Brilliant?”

  “For certain.” The priest’s smile overtook his face.

  Mary picked up the bowl beside the bed. “I’ll go get some more of the tea, my lady.”

  “Thank you. I’ll wait here with William. Get something to eat before you return.”

  Nicholas crossed his arms and glared at the young priest.

  It didn’t take long for his glare to make Father Michael uncomfortable. “Well, I best be on my way. Lots to do this day. Many souls to save.” He chuckled at his own joke.

  Nicholas did not.

  “It was nice to meet you, Father. I look forward to seeing you again soon,” Elizabeth said, anxious to get the priest on his way before Nicholas said something that might hurt the young man’s feelings.

  Father Michael paused before Elizabeth, his blue eyes intent on her. “You are a breath of fresh air, my lady. A true angel. You’re exactly what this holding needs.”

  Elizabeth felt her face heat again at the priest’s warm words. None of this would’ve bothered her if Nicholas hadn’t been watching. “You’re very kind, Father. Good day to you.”

  He slowly released her hand, as though reluctant to break the contact. His gaze held hers until he exited the chamber.

  “The man acts like a love sick pup.”

  Elizabeth didn’t bother to look at Nicholas but moved to William’s side. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She tidied the bedding, then brushed William’s brown hair across his forehead as Walter had shown her.

  “Another conquest for you. That was quick work,” he said in a biting tone.

  She nearly snorted in answer, but chose sarcasm instead. Anything to cover the hurt. “Aye, it happens often. You stepped on the backs of many upon your arrival at Amberley, I’m certain.”

  He frowned at her answer, but she turned away, unwilling to let him see how much his words hurt. There had never been any suitors. No one had declared themselves the least bit interested in her. Her father hadn’t pressed her to marry nor had she requested he arrange a marriage for her. They’d discussed it several times, but it had never seemed the right time. Added to that was the fact that she hadn’t met a man who’d caught her attention. At least not until she’d met Nicholas. How ironic that she yearned for a man who held her in such poor esteem.

  “Elizabeth,” he started, his deep voice soft.

  She let him get no further. He’d said nothing kind to her since he’d discovered her connection to his brother, and she didn’t expect him to now. “I’d like to speak to you about the position of steward. Do you have someone in mind?”

  He gave her a long look out of those blue, blue eyes, until she thought she could bear it no more. How could she breathe when he looked at her with such intensity? How could she not melt into a puddle at his feet? When would she forget his heated kisses that had turned her world upside down?

  “Nay.”

  What had been her question? Oh, right. She tried to pull her thoughts together. “I wondered if Walter could help.”

  He looked puzzled by her suggestion. “Walter?”

  “He seems to be one of the few here whom you trust, and he knows everyone. I don’t suppose he can read.”

  “Nay.”

  “Perhaps the two of us can manage the work together for a time. I can help with the household accounts. Would you ask him if he would do it? Until you find someone permanent.” She bit the inside of her lip to prevent herself from prattling on.

  Nicholas stepped closer to her. Too close. She breathed in to keep herself steady, but all she could smell was him, that fresh scent of the woods he carried.

  She focused on something other than his handsome face and ended up staring at his shoulder. The solid mass of it beckoned her touch, so broad and strong covered by the dark blue of his tunic. She could still see those shoulders bare when he’d sat up after awakening from his nightmare. She tugged her gaze away only to realize she now stared at the pulse in his neck which beat in a steady rhythm that stirred her curiosity. Would it beat so strongly under her finger? She fisted her hand to keep it at her side, then closed her eyes, knowing she’d be unable to fight the temptation much longer for desire curled deep within her.

  What was wrong with her?

  “Elizabeth?”

  Trembling, she opened her eyes to look up at him, hiding her yearning as best she could.

  His expression was unreadable but his eyes – they seemed to burn with a heat that echoed her own. Could it be true? Did he desire her touch as much as she desired his?

  He reached out a hand toward her face and her breath caught, hoping against hope that he’d hold her as he had before. Heat from his hand burned her cheek. With a gasp, she leaned toward it and closed her eyes.

  Only to feel...nothing.

  She opened her eyes and saw that he now stood an arm’s length away from her, his hands at his sides, his expression cool and reserved – nothing like what she’d imagined.

  She stood gawking at him, mortified at her behavior. How could she have so misinterpreted his gesture?

  “I’ll speak with Walter when I next see him.” He turned toward his brother. “I’m sure you have other duties. I’ll sit with William.”

  A cavernous hollow of disappointment and regret engulfed her. How was she to survive? She had to find some way to put her longing for Nicholas aside. Pursuing it would only bring her more hurt. He obviously didn’t feel the same way as she.

  “Thank you, my lord.” She glanced at him, but his attention was fixed on his brother, so she did the only thing she could.

  She left them together, wishing she could as easily leave behind her feelings for her husband.

  *

  Nicholas held completely still until Elizabeth exited the chamber, then dropped onto the chair beside William with a thud, his breath releasing in a whoosh. What in hell was wrong with him? His desire for his wife was worsening.

  He’d nearly touched her again.

  That could never happen, for once he touched her, he’d have to hold her.

  If he held her, he’d have to kiss her.

  If he kissed her...

  He leaned back in the chair with a groan as the thought of her in his bed filled his mind. Those long limbs would wind around him. That long, brown hair would fan beneath her. His desire flared, hot and bright.

  He needed to find a way
to release the tension that had built inside him since he’d met her. There was a maid or two who’d be pleased to warm his bed. The idea of that worked as well as a bucket of cold water thrown over him.

  Abstinence wasn’t the problem.

  The problem was Elizabeth.

  Not for the first time, he wondered if he should just send her back to her father. Nay. His pride refused to let him. He would not admit his mistake in tying her to him, nor would he admit the power she held over him. If she ever realized the extent of his desire for her, his plans to make her and her father pay would be over.

  He rubbed his hands over his face, then looked at William. Would all her efforts to help him succeed? Lord, he hoped so. He had to respect her for trying. She was kind, generous, and determined – qualities he admired. For a brief moment, he wished they’d met under normal circumstances, with neither his curse nor her involvement with William between them.

  But wishes like that held no purpose, only making him long for things that could not be.

  “William, you’re not going to believe what’s occurred over the past few days.” He cleared his throat. “Talking to you when you’re not awake isn’t easy. I can think of nothing to say and it makes me feel like an idiot.” What he really wished he could talk to William about was Elizabeth. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about his wife aloud. Should she overhear him...the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

  He studied his brother’s face, wondering if his color had improved or if it was just a trick of the light. “There is one thing you could answer for me, little brother. After all that tea, don’t you have to piss?”

  *

  The messenger stood before Lord Gerard Perry in the great hall, one leg trembling noticeably.

  “You have news from Amberley?” Gerard asked as he eased back into his chair with great care.

  “Aye, my lord.” The man took a deep breath to speak, but then hesitated, clamping his lips shut.

  “Well? Spit it out!” Gerard demanded.

  “Of course, my lord. Beg your pardon, but it seems as though...” The messenger looked around at the others who stood in the great hall as if he hoped they’d deliver the news for him.

  Gerard leaned forward, anger spearing through him. “Speak now or I’ll beat it out of you.”

  The messenger blanched and stepped back, eyes wide.

  “Easy, my lord,” said Matthew Alred, one of Gerard’s household knights and a friend as well. “Remember the setback you had when you last lost your temper.”

  Gerard took a deep breath to try to calm himself. Even that hurt. Matthew was right. His temper had got the best of him two days past when the stupidity of a maidservant had forced him to punish her. He shifted his sore shoulder, wondering if the damned jousting wound would ever heal.

  As his temper abated, he stared at the messenger. There was no reason for anger. What could the man possibly have to report? All was going according to plan. His injury would soon be well enough to allow him to ride to Amberley. He smiled at the thought.

  “May I, my lord?” Matthew cocked a brow at Gerard.

  Gerard waved the knight toward the messenger. “Indeed.” With another slow, deep breath, he reached for the tankard of ale before him and quenched his thirst.

  Matthew stepped forward. “Deliver your news or you’ll forfeit the payment you seek.” With a casual air, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “And perhaps your life.”

  “I fear – that is to say – something unexpected has occurred.” The messenger licked his lips before he continued. “Lady Elizabeth has married.”

  Ale spewed out of Gerard’s mouth. He slammed the tankard down. “What did you say?”

  “Lady Elizabeth. She’s married. It was all rather... unexpected.” The man’s voice quivered as his gaze darted between Matthew and Gerard.

  “To whom?” Gerard enunciated the words, certain the man knew not of what he spoke.

  “Now that is a fair question. Some say his name is Lord Bradley Trisbane, but others say he’s Lord Nicholas de Bremont.”

  Gerard stared, stunned at the messenger’s words. How could this be? William’s brother? What twist of fate was this?

  Matthew drew nearer. “This is bad news, my lord?”

  “Of the worst sort,” Gerard confirmed, still unable to believe what he’d heard.

  “Does it change our plans?” Matthew asked.

  Gerard rubbed a finger along his lower lip, contemplating his options. “Nay.” He had not come this far to lose it all. Especially not Elizabeth. He needed to find out more about Nicholas de Bremont. “Nay, it does not.”

  Matthew leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice. “Do you want the messenger to pay for this foul news?”

  Gerard picked up the simple tankard before him and eyed it thoughtfully. Soon a fine goblet would grace his table in its place. All Amberley held, including its tableware, would be his. “Let us send him back to Amberley. He may come across more information for us.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” Matthew sounded almost disappointed.

  Gerard passed the empty tankard to his left hand. Then he tossed the mug into the air and caught it, ignoring the discomfort the move caused. He glanced to make sure the messenger watched. After seeing that he held his complete attention, he threw the tankard with all his might at the bastard’s head.

  The man ducked too late. The cup struck him in the temple – hard by the sound of his sharp cry of pain.

  “Damn you to hell! If you ever come here with that sort of information after it’s already happened, I’ll carve out your eyes! Do you hear me?”

  Gerard leaned back in his chair again, the pain in his shoulder already making him regret his outburst.

  Damn Elizabeth as well. She would pay for this, and she would pay dearly, although not as dearly as her soon-to-be late husband.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Elizabeth drew a deep breath to steady her nerves and calm her pounding heart. She hesitated, one hand hovering at the latch of the chamber door, the other clutching a candle. She’d procrastinated about retiring for the night as long as she could, but her exhaustion had at last forced her to seek her bed.

  Or rather, their bed.

  Gritting her teeth, she pushed open the door and paused to scan the dimly lit room. The tension in her shoulders eased when she realized the chamber stood empty once again.

  She shook her head. Each time she entered, she worried that Nicholas might be present or that he would soon join her, and she’d be forced to be alone with him. Living in this awkward state had become very frustrating.

  As quickly as possible, she prepared for the night, changing into her chemise and sliding under the covers at a speed with which she hadn’t realized she was capable. She breathed a sigh of relief at being under the covers before Nicholas entered the chamber.

  If he ever did.

  The man had managed to be absent from their bed since their arrival at Staverton two nights past. Not that she wasn’t grateful, she admitted as she settled against the pillow. Indeed, the thought of spending the night lying next to him was more than she could bear. How could she possibly endure that sort of tension for an entire night? But that didn’t keep her from worrying if this would be the evening he finally appeared.

  The chamber had changed a little since her arrival. Her things had arrived from Amberley, so now a wool rug of deep blue graced the floor, another table sat against the wall, and her large chest was at the foot of the bed. Yet still it didn’t feel as if she belonged in this room.

  Margaret had sent a note along with her things. Elizabeth had read it countless times. Though she was grateful for word from home, she found it only made her miss everyone more. Her father was about the same and asked about her frequently. They all hoped she’d be able to come for a visit soon. She doubted that would be possible anytime in the near future.

  With a sigh, she blew out the candle, and the chamber filled with darkness. Still he d
idn’t come. After tossing and turning for a time, Elizabeth gave up and relit the candle on the narrow table beside the bed. Though tired, she couldn’t seem to settle in to sleep. She placed the blame for that squarely on Nicholas. Each sound had her straining to listen closer, her heart pounding at the thought that it might be him.

  Her instincts told her that her husband was less than pleased with the sleeping arrangements. Yet what could she do? Short of telling the servants their marriage was in name only, she couldn’t change the situation. She could hardly move into another chamber without giving a reason. Nicholas was the one who should’ve explained their marriage to the servants upon their arrival.

  Frustrated with the circumstances, she punched the suddenly uncomfortable feather pillow at her back.

  “Is the pillow misbehaving?” Nicholas’s voice echoed from where he stood just inside the chamber door, startling her. He held a candle aloft as he closed the door behind him.

  She glared at him. She couldn’t help it. “Aye.”

  He raised a brow at her terse response before setting the candle on a nearby table.

  Elizabeth held onto her anger – anything was better than the nervousness that awaited her if she thought overmuch about his sudden appearance.

  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asked. He moved to the fire and added some wood to the low burning flames.

  “Is that why you felt it safe to come to bed?” She threw off the covers and stood, anger pushing her to her feet.

  His eyes narrowed at her response before he sat on her trunk at the foot of the bed to remove his boots. “I came in here to sleep.”

  Heat filled her face at the emphasis he placed on the last word. She curled her bare toes under her thin gown when his gaze seemed to linger there. “So ’tis truly your intent to have a marriage in name only?” The question escaped her lips before she’d had a chance to think twice. Yet she was glad she’d asked. She felt as though she were walking on egg shells, as though she did not truly have a place in this keep.

  Or with her husband.

  He rose, pulled off his tunic and hung it on a peg near the door before turning to face her. “I was very clear on what our marriage would be when we struck our bargain.”