Desires Promise

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Desires Promise Page 22

by Desire's Promise (NCP) (lit)


  She looked down at her belly as the tears rolled out of her eyes and laid a hand on it. There was a child there now. Perhaps she knew it but refused to admit it. Now that it was said, she should accept it. When she returned to Castile, the child would be raised by her but would never know who its father was. Kendrick would never know unless she decided he should. That was one secret she would always hug to herself. There was no need to bring shame upon the child because of her sins.

  Like a sleepwalker, Isabeau rose from her chair and moved toward the coffer at the end of the bed. Languorous fingers slipped the latch over and opened the lid. On top lay the old coarse gown she had worn when she had first arrived and been put to work. For some reason, she had insisted on keeping it, as if she knew it would all come down to this.

  Hot tears of pain fell onto the gown and disappeared into the dark material. This was her fate. To have a child by a man who gambled for her innocence and who cared nothing for her. She’d almost let her heart nurture the seeds of love for him. That mistake would never be made again.

  * * * *

  Isabeau, dressed in her old gown and a big tattered cloak, flattened herself against the outer wall of the castle as her heart thumped an uneasy beat. With the approaching storm, Kendrick was sure to be coming back soon. All she had to do was make it to the drawbridge and out before it closed. Thankfully, she had bound her blonde hair beneath the cloak so she would not be recognized by anyone.

  The rain remained in the clouds despite the occasional droplets, in lieu of the nearness of the thunder. Isabeau jumped when the sound split the still air. She could do this.

  Looking to her left, there was the guard barracks. It was short building constructed of rough-hewn logs, chinked with pale grout. The house was empty save for a few soldiers milling around. Then she looked to her right. The stalls were empty now, the stench of unwashed bodies hanging thick through the air. Peasants gathered their things and moved toward tiny shelters for the night. She could easily be lost in this crowd.

  Her gaze moved forward. Some of the villagers who lived just outside of the bailey would be moving through the open drawbridge any moment now. She could just mingle in the crowd and slip out. With the battered cloak covering her completely and Hedda’s precious stick, no one could help but mistake her for a poor blind woman.

  Isabeau crouched by the wall nearest the drawbridge, watching the ancient wood lower over the moat. The clang of the chains split the semi still air. Her mind spun on the possibilities. If she could only just ... Her thoughts were cut off by a raucous laughter echoing from the other side. The blood turned to ice in her veins. There was only one person that the laugh belonged to. Kendrick!

  His firm body, covered in the metal of armor, sat high on the dark saddle of his large horse. Dark tendrils, as deep as a raven’s wing, draped over his shoulders with the ends dancing on the wild breeze. She held her breath. He was truly magnificent.

  Kendrick led his men through the open archway in a steady gait. The hollow, rhythmic clomps of the hooves over the ancient wood pushed her heart to a whole new beat. Could she slip past him undetected?

  She pulled her hood further over her head so her face could not be seen and wrapped the cloak tighter around her body. If he would just go past her and not turn around, then freedom and the return to Castile would be hers. The only problem was that she had no food with her. Since her flight was hasty, she had not given a second thought to it. If only she had thought further ahead! The cloak and stick were hardest to come by so food would be nearly impossible. Perhaps she could find something to sustain her along the way.

  Kendrick and his garrison of men were past her now. Her heart started to resume a normal beat when Kendrick’s head suddenly whirled around. Her breath caught in her chest. He stopped his horse and he gazed in her direction. The air began to burn inside of her lungs and begged for release. Please God, do not let him recognize me, she prayed. His eyes narrowed and widened, as if he saw something about her that was familiar. Kicking his horse in the unarmored flanks, Kendrick rode in her direction. "Here is something for you." He reached over and removed a small pouch of gold from his cantle. He threw it to her where it landed in the dust with a thud and encouraged clouds of the dry dirt to rise around her.

  Isabeau nodded and leaned over to grasp it, making sure her hands remained covered by the light brown cloth. Unfortunately, when she did so, her foot connected with the stick and caused it to escape the confines of her cloak. Kendrick’s gaze snapped to it just as she threw the hem of the material over it. A smile lit his lips. "Take care of yourself, woman. I hope that gold helps out your family."

  Isabeau rose and nodded again, pulling the fabric around her tightly. Underneath, she gripped the stick with firm hands. She was able to look up slightly because the hood was large enough to dim her features. Much to her surprise, she saw Kendrick lean over and whisper to another man who smiled as well and urged his horse in another direction. Kendrick nodded to her and also turned away. The soft clop on the stones from the movement of his horse indicated his relaxed mood. She let out a breath of relief. He did not recognize her at all.

  Isabeau turned and put the stick out before her, tapping the stones as if she were blind. Each step brought her closer to freedom. At the drawbridge, she kept tapping the stick until she was over and out. Once her feet hit the dewy grass, she slipped to the side, out of sight and broke into a run with the stick firmly in her grasp.

  * * * *

  Rain filtered through the thicket of trees, soaking through her clothes. Lightning crashed above her head and she jumped with each flash but she continued on. She was not about to stay somewhere she had an unsure future.

  Thick branches of low trees tore at her legs and clung with a slick wetness. Isabeau fought her way through them with a fierce determination. Briars tore at her arms and face but she cared not. All that was important now was to get her and her child back to Castile before it was too late.

  Pushing through the low, dense gathering of shrubs, Isabeau saw something that caused her blood to freeze in her veins. A man, dressed in armor, sat on horseback before her. With a flash of lightning, she could see his hair was fair and touched the top of his shoulders.

  "Where are you going, your Majesty?" issued the masculine voice.

  "Wh … who … who are you?" she stammered as the pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of her heaving chest.

  "Where are you going, Isabeau?" Kendrick’s voice drifted out of the rain filled darkness and caused her to stand stock-still. Her body remained frozen for a few moments until her senses pierced the veil of fear that surrounded her.

  She whirled about meet Kendrick’s angry blue eyes with such a force, her damp hair slapped her cheeks. "How did you know to find me?"

  He dismounted in that slow, dangerous fashion that most people feared and stalked over to her. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm painfully but she refused to wince. "When you crouched by the wall, I caught sight of Hedda’s stick. What do you think you are doing, Isabeau?"

  She lifted her chin defiantly. "I am not going to stay where I am not wanted. I … I…." The words barely escaped her lips before the world before her began to grow hazy then finally turned black.

  * * * *

  The physician clucked over her and checked her tiny injuries while Kendrick’s heart raced with emotion. Why was she running away? As for not being wanted, she was far from it! He had never wanted anything more in his life. So where did she get the idea he did not want her?

  Kendrick looked down at her sleeping form and felt the love for her swell within his heart. That was something he thought to never have. After Bregonia smashed it to pieces, he disdained love forever if that was what it was all about. Isabeau had healed the gaping wound before he even realized what happened. A few words here or actions there did more than a physician did or a night in a strange woman’s arms ever could. She must live.

  The physician bandaged her wounds and listened to her hear
t one last time by laying his ear against her chest. Filled with concern, he tapped the elderly man on the back. "Will she be all right?"

  "Does she faint a lot? Has her appetite gone down or has she been very tired?"

  He felt himself pale then steeled himself for the news of her impending death. "Aye, she has said she grew tired these past days and says she is not hungry. Tell me, what ails her?"

  The older man laughed with an infectious mirth as he stood up. "Nothing that will not be cured in a few months."

  "What is it? Is she dying?"

  "Quite the opposite. She is with child, milord."

  Kendrick’s heart flipped over several times in his chest. He sat down hard and placed his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbows resting on his dark breech clad legs as he stared at Isabeau. She carried his child as he had promised her long ago. Now she would have no choice but to marry him. "Are you certain?" His mind continued to mull over Isabeau’s flight. Why did she run? She must have assumed he would be angry or something of that fashion. He smirked slightly. He was furious with her but not for the reason she thought.

  The physician nodded. "Aye, milord, there are signs…." his words were cut off by the slight shift in the bed. Both of them froze and looked toward the sound.

  Isabeau blinked slowly several times as if she did not know where she was. "What happened?" she inquired as a slow hand, covered with scratches and welts, went to her forehead.

  Without hesitation, he rose from the chair and knelt next to the bed, taking her clammy hand into his. His fingers brushed the damp tendrils of gold away from her eyes. "You fainted in the forest. Why did you not tell me about the child?"

  Isabeau paled then cast her stare to the physician. "You have known about the child for quite a while, milady, have you not?" the man murmured as he gathered his instruments in his cloth bag.

  Isabeau turned her head away and tilted her head in a nod. "Nay, I have not. I only realized that fact this morning."

  With a tender hand, he urged her to face him. "Why did you hold this from me? Did you not realize how happy it would have made me?"

  Isabeau turned on her side and tucked her arm under her head. "Because I wanted to get away from here. I do not love you, milord, nor do you love me. All this child represents is the lust I have served, not the love."

  He pulled away from her, stung by the words falling from her lips. He looked up into the face of the surprised physician and the rest of the servants who hovered around. This was not a display for the help. "All of you leave," he snarled as he waved a dismissive hand, "I wish to be alone with the Queen."

  A few heads bowed and quick feet carried their unwanted presence away. His body thrummed with anger, mingled with hurt and humiliation. How could she say such evil words?

  Once the door closed, he put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to face him. "How can you say such things when I have already told you I care for you?"

  "Because you do not, milord. If you did, why would you gamble for my innocence?" Those words sliced through his mind like a sharpened knife and pierced his heart. He knew the time would come when he would tell her but he did not expect it so soon. Perhaps later, when she trusted him more and grew to love him....

  * * * *

  Isabeau stared into Kendrick’s eyes and watched him pale beneath his bronzed skin. Like a nervous animal, he paced the length of the room and ran a frantic hand through his damp hair. The embroidered hem of his navy hued tunic flapped in the breeze his stride created, giving him a maddened look. Suddenly, Kendrick stopped his movement and stared at her. His hands planted on his hips while his sensuous mouth curled into a frown. "Where did you hear that?"

  Her brows furrowed. "It does not matter. The fact is, I know about it. I always took you for a rogue and now your true self is coming out."

  "There are some things you do not know, Isabeau."

  "I know all I need to know."

  Kendrick stalked over to her side and knelt next to the bed, cupping her chin in his hand. "Are you going to condemn me before you hear my testimony? As a Queen, you must hear both sides of the story before sending a man to his death. Tell me, are you that cold to do something of that nature," he pleaded as his hand crept to her belly and moved in a slow, gentle circle. "Especially when my son resides in your belly?"

  She glared at him. "Then tell me what you want and leave me. After tonight, I wish to return to Castile where I belong."

  "Not when you have something of mine. You will never commit such a careless and selfish act again even if I must remain at your side until he is born," Kendrick growled.

  "The child is mine as well and I will do with the baby what I wish. There is nothing you can do to stop me."

  Kendrick’s fingers caressed her cheek then came to grip her chin hard. "You will never leave here, Isabeau. Do you remember your promise? Now you will have wed me. My child must not be born a bastard and suffer the stigma I did."

  Isabeau stared at him and saw the raw pain, mixed with anger, gliding across his face. He made no motion to hide it. "Nay, I cannot, Kendrick. After what I have heard…."

  "Now hear my side of the story." He rose and sat next to her on the bed, his hand resting on her stomach with a gentle pressure. "You know about the gamble. ‘Tis true. Edmund and I never ceased to test each other’s wills. We were always in competition especially where women were concerned. So when he suggested that I could not seduce you, I saw it as another conquest of a woman, a sport I always enjoyed. I will make no secret of this. There was nothing more thrilling than the pursuit then the final submission of a woman."

  "You make it sound as if women meant nothing to you."

  Kendrick nodded. "For a time, they did not. After Bregonia, I trusted no woman. So when Edmund offered a faceless seduction, I took it. This was before I ever saw you."

  Isabeau felt confused. What if she had been homely? Would he still have tried to win his bet? "So you are telling me, no matter what I looked like, you still would have wooed me?"

  Kendrick shrugged. "I know not. ‘Tis hard to say what one might do in a different situation. I knew from the first moment I saw you," he murmured as his hand brushed an errant lock of hair from her face. "That you belonged to me and no one else. I forgot the gamble and pursued you for my own selfish pleasure. I must admit no woman ever stood up to me and drew blood before."

  Isabeau blushed with her own embarrassment and her hands flew to cover the telltale sign. "Continue on."

  "You see, Isabeau, I wanted you for myself. I gave Edmund what he asked and I received what I asked for."

  Her blonde eyebrow rose. "What was that?"

  "You."

  The pounding of her heart stormed her ears and made it nearly impossible for her to hear what he was saying. Was he saying he was in love with her? "As I have told you before, Kendrick, I am no different. If it was a child you wish, any servant in the castle would have been happy to provide you with one."

  Kendrick pulled her to a half sitting position and drew her into his arms. "I wanted a special woman to bear my child," he pushed her back slightly and urged her chin upwards, "and you are that woman. I want no one else in my life but you. Every other woman pales in comparison to you. You are all the woman I will ever want or need."

  "What are you saying, Kendrick?"

  "I am in love with you, Isabeau, and have been for quite a while now though I did not have the strength to confess it until this moment. In a fortnight, we shall be married and end all these childish games."

  Isabeau wrested her chin from his grip and pulled out of the strong circle of his arms. "Why should I marry you when I cannot trust you?"

  His hand turned rough as it grasped her face again. "Because you belong to me and marriage will only strengthen that bond. No other man will dare touch you while you have the protection of my name."

  "I can take care of myself."

  Mirth erupted from his throat. "You can take care of yourself? Wandering around the woods waiting for
some thief to fall on you? What would you use to fight him off? I think not, Isabeau. You need me to take care of you. Do you know what a thief would have done to you had he found you before I did?"

  She shivered slightly. "What?"

  His thumb traced the soft outline of her lips. "He would have taken your body and worse, killed you. Nay, it is best that you marry me. I will talk to the priest in the morning and arrange everything. In a day or so, you will be my wife and all will be as it should be." The ring of certainty fanned the flames of her anger but also stoked the fire of her ardor. It was as if all he had to do was make a decision and she would willingly obey it. Strangely, she found this protective air exciting. Why must anger and desire be parts of the same pyre?

  Chapter 15

  Isabeau slammed the water-laden brush on the floor and pushed the hard handled item with all her might. How dare he think she would marry him after all he had done? Nay, she could not.

  With a grateful heart, she had insisted to return to the servant’s quarters. Kendrick relented and stated in a calm voice that she would come to her senses before the child was born. Isabeau frowned. It would be a cold day in hell before she resumed a place in his bed again.

  Kendrick watched her like a hawk on a constant basis, even to the point of pulling up a stool and staring at her while she worked. The intense glare of his dark eyes, brimming with passion, burned through her and lit the inner fire. Within the well of her soul, she battled continuously, urging her practical side to lead the way over her wanton side. Kendrick knew this and assaulted her senses relentlessly.

  Several times, when he went out with his men and practiced in the field, he had brought her a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers. She had thrown them out the window and told him under no circumstances would she marry him. He merely chuckled though the clear stamp of hurt shining in his eyes was almost more than she could bear.

  Isabeau leaned back on her haunches and fought the rising nausea as her tired hand swept across her brow. She was not the type of woman to hurt another so blatantly so why was she doing it? It was because she wanted him to hurt as badly as she did. For the first time, she realized the hurt he inflicted. Just as she was about to trust him completely and turn her heart over to him, he shattered it without remorse. She sighed heavily. What was she going to do? She had a child in her womb whose needs went far beyond her own. Suddenly, Kendrick’s words came back to haunt her. My child must not be born a bastard and suffer the stigma I did. Tears threatened her eyes but she staunchly refused to let them flow. If she were to marry Kendrick, it would be only after he proved himself to her completely and earned her trust and love.

 

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