by Jewel Adams
That morning in the glen, he perceived her attack on him as anger for breaching her barrier. Yet now that he thought on the memory, he realized he saw fear in her eyes. A flicker that never shined there before and one that now didn't leave her.
Nay, even now it lay there. Honesty made Bern face the fact that the Lady's wariness wasn't all because of his intrusion in her life.
Peter? The one she called beast. Was he the cause of what he felt coming from her?
Bern's body actually shook under the rage his thoughts brought with them. When he followed her he expected her to be meeting a man. That he would have killed her lover didn't deserve any further consideration.
Learning instead of her impulsive rides over the countryside, Bern still felt surprised over his own reaction. The danger she placed herself in made his insides convulse. The guards he set about the castle insured she would naught be taking such rides again.
His gaze swept the room for the missing Captain Lansing. Bern wasn't surprised, not after the tongue lashing he gave the man for his lack of protecting Lady Amelia, even if it was from herself.
Bringing his attention back to her, Bern did question her lack of awareness over the old man's absence. And today, she seemed unconcerned by the Captain's lingering anger with her, where as before, she rarely made a move without informing the man of her every step. How did one woman change so completely in the span of minutes?
Waking from a long sleep… Did he awake more than her passionate nature?
* * * *
The chamber held little comfort for Amy. She felt so tired she ached. Maintaining her guard at the banquet proved exhausting and yet sleep eluded her. Wringing her hands Amy couldn't shield herself from the truth. “Damn, I am terrified to sleep!”
The beast laid waiting in her dreams and nothing could convince her differently. The large room with its huge stone walls suddenly felt as if they were suffocating her.
She grabbed the cloak off its peg. Amy wrapped it around her night dress. Her racing steps were silent whispers on the stone steps in her flight from the tower. The night air cooled the fever holding her as she moved within the shadows. Having no real destination she wasn't surprised when she reached the stable's darkness. The silent presence of the horses watching their unexpected guest felt like a soothing balm on her frayed nerves.
Stopping before Squires stall she opened the gate with such normalcy she reeled. His great head rubbed against her chest as if to caress her fears away. When the massive horse moved out into the open area and stopped to wait for her, Amy didn't hesitate.
His mane felt coarse and thick beneath her hold as she vaulted up onto his back. Leaning over the powerful neck Amy buried her face there, releasing the tears she held away.
* * * *
“Damn!” Bern hadn't been sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him until the stallion emerged from the stable. His call did nothing to halt the steed's movements from picking up speed and racing past the unaware gate guards. His own legs never ceased running towards the stalls.
He cursed the moments he lost to bridle his mount, Bern raced them at full gallop before they left the compound. Fearing he lost her in the night, his frantic gaze searched the forest edge finding nothing. He swung his search to the open hills feeling his heart pounding over the sight--there, moving along the crest galloped the sleek stallion. On his back the cloak and white gown flew out like wings, making it appear as if she was a part of a winged beast.
He dug in his heels and raced his horse until they drew alongside the stallion. Seeing no reins to stop the horse with, Bern faced no choice but to ride with her until the stallion ended his run.
Riding there at an easy lope Bern realized Amy held no awareness of his presence. Much like the wild eye glare of the stallion she appeared lost to all but the night's freedom.
The midnight ride was one he would never forget. He followed, never trying to interfere. When the stallion returned to the castle the guard's lack of alarm over their mistress's excursion told Bern the scene he witnessed wasn't a new one.
Sliding off his mount Bern walked forward to where the stallion stood. Bern gently untangled her hold on the horse's mane. That she remained oblivious to his actions drew deep lines of concern across his brow.
He eased her pliant body into his arms, some of the tension left him when she snuggled up to his chest. Holding her tighter Bern felt a surge of protective desire strike like lightning through his frame. Like the wild creature he was beginning to know, her hair floated about them like an ermine cloak.
He forced himself to find the stairs that would deliver her to the sanctity of her chamber. Silently he cursed his gallant jester when her open door finally drew them inside. Yanking the covers down off the bed he lowered her gently into its waiting comfort. In the candlelight she looked as if she were still racing over the moonlit hills. Her ivory skin flushed to a rosy sheen, only the darkness haunting the mink lashes whispered of her exhaustion.
Bern's finger pushed back the wild mass of curls from her brow. “Ack, ye are beauty itself, Amy.” Remembering how she felt in his embrace, the fire in her kiss, Bern waged a fierce battle to pull back from her allure and not take what he wanted to possess.
The unexpected fear that by possessing he might destroy what he so wantonly desired, delivered a staggering blow. Backing away from her in silence he watched her sleep for endless minutes. A slow wistful smile came to his darkened frown. “What new wonders will the dawn bring with thee, sweet Amy?”
CHAPTER 4
“Gone? Gone where, Mistress?”
Tilly turned away to shade her knowing smile over the lass' piqued interest in Laird Randall's whereabouts. “The hunt I suspect--rode out at dawn they did. Raised a ruckus too. I will be surprised if there is game within a fortnight that's not been warned of their approach.”
Ah yes, she remembered now, the boar. The mental picture she made of the hunt sent shivers over her arms. But then, she'd felt little else since rising and finding she still remained here.
“Ye should have stayed abed this morn, look right done in ye do.”
“I'm fine, it's just the late hour of the feast last night.”
Amy missed Mistress Tilly's brow raise over her excuse. “Oh aye, been keeping many a late night these last weeks.”
Amy paid little mind to the woman's rebuke, her thoughts were trying to decipher the meaning of her new reality. She refused to dwell on what happened to bring her here, Amy focused on the here and now and one very unforgettable man.
“When will he return?”
“By noon I'd say, unless the game leads them a merry chase.”
The older woman's answer made Amy fidget before the open balcony. “Boars don't run...” Biting her lip, Amy scolded her concern and her increasing lack of control over voicing her fretful thoughts.
“True, but then neither does a man like Laird Randall.”
The knowing smile that meant Amy's worried glare made her jerk her head back around.
Before Mistress Tilly could take her teasing any further the shouts and mounting commotion in the castle's yard drew both women out onto the balcony. Amy's eager eyes searched the double line of men riding through the massive gate. When she failed to see Bern her gaze went back to the first man taking a closer study, wondering how she could fail to spot him.
Without thought Amy reached out and took hold of Mistress Tilly arm, squeezing it as her fears came out in a breathless wisp. “He's not there.”
Tilly tried not to add her own worry to what she felt and heard in her lass. “Probably be along in a shake and with a fat boar in tow, no doubt.”
But neither lady saw the dead animal to confirm the possibility.
Unable to stand there and not learn of his whereabouts, Amy went racing out of the room. Skirts flying she reached the yard and continued her frantic search that did nothing to relieve her mounting anxiety.
Failing to find the old Captain, Amy sought out Lord Randall's men. Touch
ing the mounted man's leg that she recognized. “It's Captain Craig, isn't it?”
“Aye, Lady Amelia.”
“Where is your Lord?”
Her fingers tightened on his thick thigh when he would have looked away. “Where man, tell me!”
“They be bringing him in, now.”
Amy swung around, gasping over the sight she confronted.
The travois pulled behind the horse could be the only way she would not have seen him--because he laid in it!
Running to the halting procession she forced herself not to wretch from the blood soaked clothes and his pale contorted face.
No one moved or spoke a word as she approached him.
“You look worse then I feel, Lady Am...” Ceased by a wave of pain, Randall never finished his forced brevity.
“The boar...” It didn't matter how he came to be injured even her untrained eyes knew he lost too much blood. “Get him to my room!”
The order went past her lips, but it was the authoritative glare that she sent his men and her next outburst that shook them into action. “Move it!”
Hesitating only long enough to be sure they were following her order, she raced ahead of them. Mistress Tilly stepped before her. “Lass? Should ye be...” lowering her voice before looking the girl square on, “…taking him to ye own chamber, his is but down the hall.”
When did he move into the castle?
Brushing away the question, it only reinforced how scattered her attention remained. “You are right, I forgot, direct them there and send up the medical supplies.”
“He'll be needing the leaches.”
“No!” Realizing her protest came out much too vicious, Amy tried to soften her refusal. “He has lost too much blood already.”
“Aye, ye may be right.”
Amy felt too tense to be relieved over the woman's acceptance of her wishes, the sudden truth that this wasn't her modern century hit her harder. The lack of adequate medical assistance he so desperately needed made her want to scream over the injustice.
Following the litter the men carried him in, Amy gave herself a fierce shake, this was now her reality and she better get herself in hand--he needed her help, not some babbling idiot!
“Try not to jar his leg--easy now.” Her gentle words as they lowered him into the bed helped calm her more than anyone else.
As the men started to leave, “Craig, please stay, I need your help.”
The pure size of Bern became the first obstacle she refused to let defeat her. Amy pulled Bern's dagger from his belt and felt him tense.
As if in slow motion his tortured eyes opened and went from hers to the knife she held poised before him in her fist. “Do be careful love or our wedding night won't come close to the dreams I have been having.”
The heat infused her cheeks, she couldn't believe he possessed the strength to hold her in such a devilish light and what that attempted smile over her reaction did to her!
“You are a rouge for sure, Bern Randall.” What possessed her to spar with him in his condition Amy couldn't say, but she felt his need reach out to her. “Maybe I should thank that beast for slowing you down a bit.”
She didn't try and hide her smile for the surprise that came over him for her bold words, nor the pleasure they caused to light his anguished eyes. “Now, be a good Lord and lie still or ye may cause this blade to slip and ugh' a waste it would be to deprive me of seeing if such a grand boast is in fact a reality.”
“Ye be a fox, Amy.”
“Aye, and right now more than a little angry that ye let yourself get in this condition.”
Amy started working the knife through the material to cut away the blood soaked garments, telling herself not to show him anything more than the bantering she deliberately began.
“Tis' a promise I see in ye eyes, Amy?”
“Ack, such a conceited man I am betrothed to.”
As Craig pulled back the cloth stuck to the jagged gash in his thigh Amy bit her lip not to moan. Bern's own teeth were barred under the strain he exerted not to cry out in the pain he suffered.
Amy didn't acknowledge the vicious curses he issued as Craig raised his leg for Amy to pull the dirty clothes away.
Bern forced all his concentration on her and away from the fire assaulting his body. Lying there naked before her had always been his intent, but the way it came about made him furious.
Working quickly and as gently as possible, Amy washed away the dried blood and dirt until she exposed the wound in all its ugly danger.
Hearing the strangled sharpness in Bern's breaths, her own ran a close match. The wound went deep, a serious cut that she knew must be stitched to stop the blood flow. “You did a real number on yourself.”
Between Craig's muffled gasp and Bern's snort of shock, Amy wanted to back away and kick herself for what she just blurted out. She forced herself to meet Bern's rather stunned gaze. Amy took a deep breath and decided she would soon have to answer the questions in his eyes. For now, “Well, I hope you killed the beast.”
“Aye, that I did lass.” No, he would not correct her now. Thankfully, her attention returned to his injury and she missed the sharp shake of his head to Craig's silent question that snapped the man's lips shut. T’was best to let her think the boar's tusk did the damage rather than a sword's ripping blade!
When her lovely eyes came back to his, Bern was taken back over the naked concern she actually held him in. As he held her still with his eyes he also saw the fears and indecision gathering behind those honey dew drops. “Better get to it, Amy. I have a well of healing to get to before our vows are spoken.”
Her flushed embarrassment over his words didn't last long enough to satisfy Bern. Damn that young squire's enthusiasm! Yet Bern couldn't fault the lad for charging into the melee like he did, any boy worth his salt wanted to fight with the men. Nay, the wound was worth the life he saved.
Amy managed to pull away from his intense study of her. Seeing him in pain, no matter how well he hid it, tore at her heart until she found herself fighting back the tears. She feared her voice would fail her and Amy raced out in silence to gather the items necessary to help him.
Bern watched her go, only then did he release the inner fist he held the pain back with. “Augh! Sweet mother, you nearly killed me, Craig! And if ye don't cover me this instant I will finish what those bastards failed to accomplish!”
Craig let the threat pass, knowing Bern needed the release of his outburst. “Ye best set her straight on how this happened before that old man hears of the ambush.”
“I would prefer waiting, it’s bad enough being at her mercy.” Bern's gruff words did more to humor Craig than shock him. “When she comes back, you best go and ready the defenses, try and keep that imbecile Captain in the dark while you're about it.”
“Don't underestimate the old man, he's hardly sitting around staring into the hearth fires.”
“He would also like nothing better than to undermine my claim on his lady while I am flat on my back.”
Craig didn't think Lady Amelia would stand any interference where Bern was concerned, but kept his thought silent, rather enjoying Bern's insecurity. It was a rare treat having Bern at odds with himself and all because of one wee bit of a lady. Not that Craig could blame him. Lady Amelia proved to hold her own surprises. Funny, he failed to realize what a pretty and spirited woman she was when Bern first camped out here. Craig guessed Bern must have seen it all along, explaining why the man became set on winning her.
By only moments, Amy entered before the women into the room. Going directly to the bed her shoulders relaxed a mite seeing that he was now covered.
She was a glorious female to watch. That way she showed emotions with her eyes when they looked upon his body, stirred a feeling so hot in his gut Bern groaned over the shock of it.
“Here, drink this.”
She slipped her arm under his head and lifted him up a little so he could drink from the goblet Mistress Tilly drugged. It
grew harder to keep her eyes away from being captured by him. Damn him, but he already saw too much of her feelings.
Against her will her gaze once again moved over his magnificent body. Steel bands of copper flexed across his chest. His bare arms were so large she didn't think both of her hands could span the bulging muscles. In all truth Amy never saw a man as well endowed as Randall. The admission made her make the mistake of looking into those midnight orbs. No wonder he expected women to fall all over him. Cocky, aye he owned the right!
“Ye be draining my senses, Amy...”
There was no reason to tell him it was the wine. The telling way she pulled herself away from his commanding hold said she understood exactly how they were affecting each other.
His move to prevent her complete retreat proved a mistake that sent Bern falling back into the pillows with regret as the raw pain assuaged his senses.
The gentle touch on his brow brought Bern's awareness of the woman back to his tortured eyes. He felt the soft breast, so ripe, pressing freely against his fevered chest making him wonder if he were dreaming.
Leaning closer, so he alone would hear her. “Let it come Bern, there is no shame in pain. Tis’ only I that will hear any sound ye make.”
Her hands were like feathers over his face. Why couldn't he reach for her like he wanted to, hold her closer--kiss those velvet lips.
The slurred words of anger he released weren't exactly what Amy expected from him, making her glad she dismissed everyone except Craig.
“You had best hold him down while I stitch. The drug isn't working very well.”
“Bern is a big man.”
Amy barely stopped her eyes from falling to his lower form, catching her wayward thoughts from expressing themselves just in time. Busying herself with the coarse thread she vehemently wished it wasn't such a large bone needle, but a tiny metal one that he wouldn't feel as harshly.