The Warrior's Runaway Wife

by Denise Lynn

  She needed him to know that he was loved, that he held her heart and that she knew no matter how sorry she was, she would never be able to take away the terrible hurt she had caused him with her words to Osbert.

  She hadn’t meant them. They had all been lies. Lies that had saved her life, but had taken away what she held most dear—him.

  Her hand ached from the effort of writing the missive. A glance out of the window told her she’d been at this for hours. The sun had nearly set.

  And now that her letter was written, she stared at it, wondering how to sign.

  Finally, she wrote.

  I hope to remain your Little Dove.

  It was the best she knew how to do. Maybe some day in the future, she could write him a better note that one of his brothers could bring to him.

  Her breath caught on a sob. She let the quill fall from her hand and ran to the bed where she pulled the cover over her, hoping to drown out the sound of her crying.

  * * *

  Elrik’s hands shook as he read the missive again for the third time. What had he done?

  His brothers’ arrival couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  He had looked for her all afternoon and evening. Finally, unable to locate his wife, he’d asked Samuel where she might have gone. The man nearly bit his head off when he had replied that she’d gone to Roul Isle just like Elrik wanted.

  The row he’d had with not just Samuel but also with Fulke had provided more entertainment for those inside the keep than he ever could have imagined.

  The three of them had shouted at each other. His brother Rory had grabbed Fulke when the man had raised his fist ready to go to blows for Lady Avelyn’s honour, while Edan had physically placed his body between Samuel and Elrik to keep them from getting close enough to do each other harm.

  At first, Elrik didn’t understand their anger, but when Samuel had told him that Edan had asked Avelyn if she could be ready to leave tomorrow, everything became clear.

  She thought his brothers were there to take her to Roul Isle. And that was true, to a point. They were there because of the missive they’d been sent right after the wedding. Since they hadn’t found Avelyn at Carlisle, they’d likely come to Roul Keep to see what was happening. And knowing King David, Elrik knew he’d not explained Avelyn’s absence from his castle.

  Neither of them had been on Roul Isle when the second missive arrived ordering them to ignore the first, as their service in this matter was no longer needed.

  After discovering what had been said, he’d torn through this keep like a man possessed looking for her. He had to find her. Had to explain that Rory and Edan were not here to take her away from him.

  Had to tell her that he hadn’t been ignoring her these last five days, he’d been giving her time to heal, time to calm her emotions before they talked. That was all. How could he have been so witless?

  Finally, fearing she’d run away, he’d rechecked the upper chambers just to be certain and found her in the smallest one at the far end of the back corridor.

  She was buried under the covers and, from the fitfulness of her sleep, he knew she had cried until exhaustion overtook her.

  Then he’d seen the quill, ink horn, and her wedding ring. Curious, he’d stuck his torch in the sconce near the little table, picked up the ring and sat down to see what was written on the page.

  To his shock and pride, his wife had learned to read and write. While the writing itself was hard to decipher, the words were simple and they’d come from her heart. The heart he’d unintentionally broken so thoroughly.

  He stared at Avelyn and frowned. He would cherish this note always, but the fact that she intended to leave it for him to find, instead of coming to him directly, meant she didn’t trust him enough yet to talk to him...just as he had yet to find himself able to talk to her.

  That had to be changed. But she was going to creep out of here tomorrow and make her way to Edan’s ship.

  Elrik’s lips twitched with the beginning of a smile. He put the missive exactly where he’d found it, placed the ring back on the table, took the torch from the wall sconce and stood over her a moment before quietly leaving the chamber.

  * * *

  She shivered in the damp morning air. This ride to the ship had been the longest, and most silent, she’d ever experienced.

  Samuel and Fulke hadn’t spoken one word to break the silence. They didn’t appear angry, just withdrawn, quiet and there wasn’t anything she could do about that.

  When the ships came into view, her hands shook at what she was going to do and she laughed softly at her sudden nervousness. It wasn’t as if she’d never run away or been alone before. Why was it suddenly making her worrisome now?

  Samuel helped her dismount and she turned to Little Lady to stroke the horse’s nose and place a kiss between the big, dark eyes. ‘I will miss you.’

  A squire took the reins, saying, ‘She will be well cared for, my lady.’

  Avelyn nodded in reply and turned to board the ship.

  One of Elrik’s brothers waited for her at the flap to the sailcloth covering of the makeshift cabin beneath the forecastle. ‘Lady Avelyn. Sister.’ He took her hand. ‘I am Edan. If you require anything, please let me know.’ He held the flap open and dropped it closed behind her.

  She heard Samuel and Fulke take up their positions on either side of the flap and was thankful for their protection on this voyage. At least she wouldn’t be completely alone amidst nothing but strangers.

  The sound of men’s heavy footsteps boarding the ship let her know that the crew and some guards had joined them. Soon they would be underway.

  Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to go, but she was too much of a coward to face her husband. She couldn’t find the words to tell him how sorry she was, how guilty she felt, for hurting him. She tightly closed her eyes to fight back tears. Certain she had control of her emotions, she opened her eyes and glanced around the small cabin she would be calling home for the next several days. It was essentially the same as the one on Elrik’s ship—pallet, stool, small table and a chest.

  She opened the lid to the chest to find her bags had already been placed inside along with men’s clothes that probably belonged to Edan.

  Orders to cast off were shouted and she felt the ship lurch as it moved slowly away from the dock. She took off her heavy cloak and hung it on a hook before stretching out on the pallet.

  She curled her fingers and slammed a fist against the pallet. No. She was not going to cry. What good would it do her?

  Yet there was no other explanation for the moisture running from her eyes. She rolled on to her side, burying the uninjured side of her face into the pillow, curled into a tight ball, clenched her jaw, and sniffed.

  ‘Damn you, Elrik,’ she whispered brokenly into the empty cabin.

  A hand stroked her hair. ‘I was damned the moment I met you, Little Dove.’

  She gasped and froze. Was she now imagining things?

  The hand grasping her shoulder was far too solid to be an imagining. ‘We need to talk.’

  She rolled over on to her back and stared up at him in shock. And if she were to be honest, a small measure of hope flared to life. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I am trying to discover which one of us has enough courage to say what needs to be said between us.’

  Courage? Avelyn frowned. What would take more courage—telling him she loved him so, or that she was willing to leave because she knew that was what he wanted? ‘You sent me away.’

  ‘I did no such thing, Avelyn. My brothers had not received the second set of orders telling them they would not be needed. They arrived only because of a mistake with communication. There has been too much of that lately.’

  ‘How so?’

  He moved over her on the pallet and stretched out alongside her, befor
e explaining. ‘I have left you alone these last five or so days because I believed you needed time to come to terms with what had occurred between you and Osbert, and to accept his death, when I could have simply asked if you needed time or not.’

  ‘I came to terms with his death the moment he thudded to the floor. It might be a sin, but his loss meant nothing to me.’

  ‘And you could have told me that, had I asked. But I didn’t. Just like now, you chose to run away instead of coming to me to discover why my brothers had arrived.’

  ‘I was so afraid of the answer I would hear if I did come to you.’

  ‘As I was afraid to tell you what your words to Osbert did to me.’

  ‘Elrik, I never meant to hurt you.’ She shivered, unable to forget the words she had spoken, the lies that had hurt him so.

  ‘I know that. I knew you had lied to save your life and to stall for time.’ Gently touching the angry wound on her cheek, he said, ‘This happened because of me.’

  ‘You didn’t take a knife to my face.’

  ‘No. I only hesitated long enough for Osbert to do the deed.’ He clasped her hands between his. ‘Yes, your words hurt. I was taken aback by the pain they caused. But in that moment, I realised that those lies wouldn’t have hurt had I not already placed my heart in your hands.’

  Her breath caught at his admission. She had realised the same thing, at the same moment. But could she tell him that? Did she have the courage to place her heart in his hands, knowing that she could one day find herself alone like her mother had?

  Elrik remained silent, waiting to see if she could bring herself to trust him enough not to hurt her. She’d already put the words on parchment, but she didn’t know that he’d read her letter and he wasn’t going to tell her until she gave voice to her feelings.

  Finally, she looked into his gaze, admitting, ‘As I spoke each lie I, too, understood why they were so hard to say. I knew it was because I loved you so dearly.’

  He smiled and shook his head. ‘For two people who claim to love each other, we certainly do seem to fumble with it.’

  ‘Perhaps because it isn’t familiar to either of us.’

  ‘I suppose that will take time and we’ll have plenty of it these next few weeks.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘First, we’ll head to Roul Isle to drop off Edan. After that wherever you want to go, Avelyn.’

  ‘We have a keep that needs our attention.’

  ‘The keep is going nowhere. We, the two of us, are more important to me than that keep. And it is imperative that you come to understand just how much you can trust me, Avelyn. There is nothing you can’t tell me, nothing. Good or bad, I need you to always know you can talk to me.’

  He’d told her that before and, while she had believed him, she hadn’t wanted to put his words to the test with her feelings for him. They had been too new, too...tender...fragile to expose them to possible danger.

  He reached under the corner of the pallet and brought her hand up towards her face. ‘You forgot something back at Roul.’

  Elrik slipped her wedding band on her finger, tipped her head up and gently kissed her lips. With his lips a breath away from hers, he said, ‘Wife, I need you to know that you own my heart and my soul. I love you with every breath I take, today and always.’

  As he repeated the words she’d put on the parchment for him to find, Avelyn felt the warmth of his love wash over her, bringing with it the sense that she would always find safety in his arms, no matter what. She rested a palm on his chest over the beating of his heart. ‘My Wolf, I return that love and I swear to always hold your heart and soul gently.’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story check out these

  other great reads by Denise Lynn

  AT THE WARRIOR’S MERCY

  THE WARRIOR’S WINTER BRIDE

  PREGNANT BY THE WARRIOR

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE MASTER OF CALVERLEY HALL by Lucy Ashford.

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  The Master of Calverley Hall

  by Lucy Ashford

  Chapter One

  Gloucestershire—June 1816

  Seven years ago, Connor Hamilton had vowed to turn his back for good on the English countryside. But today, as he felt the warm summer sun on his face and breathed in the scent of freshly mown hay, he realised he’d never actually forgotten how beautiful it could be.

  He’d chosen to drive from the Hall in his phaeton, with nine-year-old Elvie sitting at his side and Tom, the elderly groom, perched on the back. His two matched bays set a smart pace along the road to Chipping Calverley, but as their destination grew closer Connor reined them to a walk and took a swift glance down at Elvie. Not that he could see a great deal of her, thanks to that huge sunbonnet her grandmother had insisted the child wear.

  ‘I promise I’ll bring her back in one piece, Laura,’ Connor had teased.

  ‘I know! I know I’m fussing!’ Laura had laughed. But then she’d added, more quietly, ‘You realise, Connor, how very much my granddaughter means to me.’

  An unspoken grief coloured her words and Connor had replied, ‘Of course. She means a great deal to me also.’

  Poor Elvie. Poor silent, orphaned Elvie. But she was taking everything in, Connor was sure, with quiet pleasure. And suddenly the little girl tugged at the sleeve of his driving coat and whispered, ‘Look, Connor. There’s a fair!’

  She was pointing to the colourful tents set out on a grassy meadow in the distance, the spaces between them already thronged with people and stalls. ‘A fair?’ he echoed teasingly. ‘Never, Elvie. Surely not.’

  ‘But there is, Connor. There is.’

  Connor pretended to lean forward, shading his eyes from the bright sun. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I think you’re quite right.’

  She didn’t say another word, but she gazed intently at the bustling scene as they drew closer. And Connor thought, Pray God I’ve done the right thing, bringing the child here. Meaning not just to the fair, but to Calverley, to the very place where he himself had grown up, the place he had turned his back on all those years ago. Thus, in all likelihood, opening himself up to all sorts of memories and regrets...

  Concentrate, he told himself sternly, because by now his horses had come to a complete halt in the solid queue of carriages, gigs and carts all heading for the fairground. Connor turned round to his groom. ‘All right if I leave you in charge, Tom, while I walk
on with Elvie?’

  ‘All right indeed, sir,’ said Tom, lowering himself remarkably promptly for a man of his age from the rear of the carriage. ‘You two go and enjoy yourselves, now!’

  No one could have been more pleased than old Tom when Connor had arrived at Calverley Hall back in April and told him he was going to buy the place. Its former owner had died five years ago, owing money everywhere; the bank had taken possession and put the run-down Hall up for sale. No buyers appeared. Instead, a succession of tenants had done nothing to reverse its general decline and few of the staff from the old days remained.

  But now Connor was the new master of Calverley. ‘Well,’ Tom had said when he heard the news, ‘I was thinking of retiring, to be honest. But since you’re back—if you need a fellow to run your stables, Mr Hamilton, then here I am!’ He’d puffed out his chest. ‘It will be an honour working for you, sir!’

  And if Tom was recalling how Connor grew up the son of the local blacksmith, and had laboured every day in the heat of the forge, then old Tom said nothing at all.

  Now Connor handed the reins to him, then went to help little Elvie down. ‘It’s a bit of a walk, Elvie,’ he told her. ‘But you don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ She gripped his hand tightly.

  ‘Good girl,’ he approved and noted how her eyes were round with wonder as he guided her through the lively crowds. So, he thought to himself, people still came from miles around to the midsummer fair at Chipping Calverley. ‘It’s the prettiest village in Gloucestershire,’ people always used to say. ‘With the best fair in the whole of the county!’

  And he was finding that every sound, sight and scent brought back memories. The appetising smell from the stall selling fresh bread. The music of the Morris Men with their fiddles and their bells. The laughter of the crowd watching the Punch and Judy show. You didn’t see many smiles on the faces of London’s businessmen, thought Connor. Not unless they’d just made a vast profit in some big financial deal—and even then, their smiles were only half there, because their brains were already busy counting up the money.