by Eli Easton
Frowning, William looked up at the moon. He didn’t know what to believe. But he couldn’t shake his anger at being left out of Christian’s plans, or that blood-curdling, belated terror.
“Let’s keep moving,” he said gruffly, untying Tristan and Sir Swiftfoot.
“Tristan needs rest.”
“The horses and I have done naught but rest for nearly a week,” William said bitterly. “We should travel at night and hole up during the day to avoid being seen. We’ll ride till morning.”
He mounted his horse and turned back toward the mountain path, not waiting to see if Christian would follow. After all, Christian could take care of himself, could he not? Christian, the Crow, who had gone into the castle and killed Somerfield in his rooms with a lethal strike—all by himself.
“William…,” Christian began as William rode away.
William didn’t stop. Behind him, he heard Christian mount and follow.
Chapter 17
They traveled to St. Bees, which lay south of Somerfield’s castle on the coastline. They traveled at night and hid during the day, camping in the woods.
When they neared the town, they circled around to the south and rode in boldly, looking every inch the noble knights. Christian brought out a blue velvet tunic he’d packed in his saddlebags, his gold spurs, and his half armor. He helped William put on his full tournament dress so they could differentiate themselves from the travelers who had gone through Kendal a few weeks before. They were laying down the approach of Lady Elaine’s brother-knight Sir William. They’d come from Lancaster, they told anyone they spoke to, and were traveling to Somerfield’s castle. And all the while, William would barely look at Christian, and never spoke to him unless it was to bark directions on where they would go and what they would wear and say. Christian took the orders without question, uneasy and afraid of the rift between them.
In St. Bees, the rumors about Lord Somerfield’s murder had just arrived and were spreading rampantly. It was said the lord’s perversions had claimed him in the end. Apparently he’d gone too far with a serving wench, and she’d snapped and killed him with a kitchen knife. The rumors varied greatly as to what lascivious acts Somerfield had been trying to commit at the time and where he’d been stuck with the blade. One story said his most personal bits had been carved off and fed to his horse, poor miserable beast.
They never caught the wench.
If William wondered at the rumors, and why it was said to have been a woman servant and not a man, he didn’t mention it. Perhaps he assumed that since so many of the rumors either contradicted each other or were fantastical, the killer’s gender was too. Christian was only grateful not to have to lie further.
That night they stayed in an alehouse for the first time since their journey began. William thought it wise to leave a record of their passage through the town, should anyone look for it. Christian bathed in front of the fire while William went out. When he came in later, he was more than a few pints of ale looser than he’d been for days. Christian sat up in bed and made no secret of watching William as he used the tub of water in front of the fireplace.
William had not said more than a dozen words to Christian since they’d left the foothills near the castle, much less touched him.
“I did what I thought I needed to do to protect you,” Christian said quietly as William stood up from his bath. The water rolled down his muscled body, and he looked so fine in the firelight that Christian would have given his soul for one more kiss, one more night of tenderness.
“I know,” William said.
“You think I lied to you. But I did intend to do the things I said, get information about Elaine’s routine. Only when I had the chance at Somerfield, I—”
“I understand it perfectly, Christian.”
Christian wasn’t sure William did. Because the thing that made sense of it, words like I love you more than anything I’ve ever had in my life, and I would give anything to keep you safe, to keep you with me were not things he could say to William while William was being cold and distant.
“Are you going to forgive me?” Christian asked.
William dried off with a cloth and came to bed. He slipped in naked, which was more than fine, because Christian was naked too. Christian rolled onto his side to get closer to him, but William grasped Christian’s hands, keeping them off his body.
“I don’t need your protecting. If I cannot be your master, I will be your equal, Christian,” William said in a voice still tight with anger.
Christian stared at him blankly. “William, you are far superior to me, as a knight and as a man.”
“Yet you kept things from me to protect me.”
“Only because I knew you wouldn’t allow me to go into the castle if I admitted to even thinking about killing Somerfield!”
William stared into Christian’s eyes, his face grim in the firelight.
Christian frowned and swallowed. “You’re right. ’Tis an ill excuse.” He took a deep breath. “I did withhold things from you. And I swear I’ll never do it again. Only don’t be cold with me. I cannot bear it.”
Christian meant it with all his heart. William’s distance had hurt him as nothing had ever done. He knew he’d damaged William’s pride, stolen his revenge, and not taken seriously enough William’s need to be protective of those he cared for. And that had nearly been unforgivable.
He waited for William’s verdict, allowing everything to show on his face.
William’s eyes were still grim, but his hold on Christian shifted. He grasped Christian’s wrists hard and pinned them over his head, rolling Christian onto his back and covering him. Christian found himself out of breath as he stared up into William’s relentless eyes. William only stared down, unmoving, even as Christian felt his lover’s cock hardening impressively against his stomach. Christian himself had been hard since he’d watched William in the bath.
Christian bit his lips as desire slammed into him. He could not stop his hips from thrusting upward. But William only lay on him more heavily still.
“If you ever do such a thing again, Christian, I will never forgive you. I would die a thousand deaths before I would see you risk yourself.”
“I swear,” Christian promised. “I would do anything for you, anything you ask.”
The words were said in lieu of I love you, because he was unable to stop himself from saying something.
With a sigh of release, William crashed his lips down on Christian’s. And for the first time since he’d passed through the walls of Somerfield’s castle, Christian tasted William’s kiss, felt the possessive press of his body. He moaned as aching need ran straight through the center of his soul, not only for William’s body, but for the return of his love and admiration. He arched up into that sweetness as William ground down.
“Take me now,” Christian said.
This time William didn’t argue. He used his spit to open Christian up and pressed himself inside. His thrusts, the grip of his hands, his grim face staring down into Christian’s, were all rough and demanding in a way he’d never been before. But even so, he was slow with the breaching, watching Christian closely for signs of pain. That mix of tenderness and aggression inflamed Christian’s blood all the more.
When the motion became easy, and they were deep in the throes of it, Christian watched the emotions flicker over William’s face:
Mine. Submit. Safe. Last time.
Remember me.
Chapter 18
Two weeks after Lord Somerfield’s murder, Sir William Corbet rode into Somerfield’s castle bailey. He came dressed in armor and looking every inch the seasoned warrior. By his side was another knight, dazzling in a royal-blue tunic and mail, a quiver of arrows on his back. The upper part of his face was covered by the plate of his helmet, and he said nothing, only stood silently with the horses as William went into the castle.
The very next morning, the pair rode out again. This time they were accompanied by Lady Elaine, her two young
children, the children’s nurse, and an older male servant who had begged to go with her.
Christian had been right. The next in succession to the title was a cousin who’d be arriving at the castle in a fortnight with his large family in tow. Lady Elaine had failed in her duty to give the family sons for the line of succession. They seemed relieved to hand her back over to her brother and get rid of her permanently.
Lady Elaine rode next to William at the front of their small procession. Christian, riding behind her, saw her turn her delicate head and spit on the ground as they cleared the castle’s walls, anger tight in her proudly set shoulders. He felt a vengeful sense of pride at the gesture and smiled darkly.
They rode only until midafternoon before making camp that first day. The children were restless and fussy, and Elaine was drooping with weariness. Christian wondered when she’d last had a decent night’s rest.
He’d never seen the children’s nurse in the castle, and the older male servant he’d glimpsed once or twice, but only from afar. One thing his time in the castle had taught Christian—people saw what they expected to see. He removed his helmet on their ride, as it was a warm day, and he didn’t think another thing about it until he was on his knees making the fire at their camp that evening. Lady Elaine stepped up to warm her hands—and suddenly gave a small cry. Christian looked up to find her wide, frightened eyes on his face.
He stood slowly and carefully so as not to alarm her. She continued to stare at him as realization dawned, writ plain on her face. Then her mouth opened, and her eyes grew bright with tears. Christian gave her a tiny courtly bow, not knowing how she would react. Elaine covered her mouth with her hand, breathed a sob, and flew around the fire to throw herself into Christian’s arms.
He held her, feeling both embarrassed and deeply moved. His mind went to Ayleth, and he was very grateful in that moment to have been able to repay his sister’s kindness, even if it was to another woman. William was watching them, his face pensive, as he tended the horses.
“Thank you,” Elaine whispered into Christian’s ear. They were simple words, but the emotion in them was anything but.
“My lady.”
Elaine collected herself, wiped at her eyes, and nodded at him. She turned away to see to the children.
William came over. “She knows?” he asked Christian quietly.
“Aye. She recognized me from the castle.”
William clapped a hand on Christian’s back, his eyes still on Elaine.
“We are much in your debt, Crow,” William said in a raw voice. It was more of an acknowledgment than Christian had ever expected to hear from him. William’s hand fell away, and he went back to the horses.
That night, when the children and servants were asleep, William, Christian, and Elaine stayed by the fire for a good while, enjoying the silence and the fire’s warmth. Elaine had taken a nap and then said very little all evening other than gentle words to the children and their nurse. She stared at the fire now. William studied her face. Her petite features were still as attractive as William remembered, but they’d changed. The laughter and spark, the sweetness, were gone, replaced by a flat mask. Shadows upon shadows haunted her eyes, and he had the feeling that if he looked too deeply into them, it would break his heart.
William wished, with a surge of impotent anger, that he had his hands around Somerfield’s neck right now.
But that fare had already been paid.
“Where will you take me?” Elaine asked, looking at William.
William came back from his thoughts with a start. He realized that he’d been so preoccupied with the task of simply getting Elaine from Lord Somerfield’s castle that he hadn’t given any thought to what would happen next.
“I suppose… home. Father will shelter you and the children now Lord Somerfield is dead, though it will take him some time to forgive me for leaving without permission.”
“No.” Elaine’s eyes were filled with rage. “Father sold me to Somerfield when even I had heard rumors of the man’s cruelty. He assured me they weren’t true. I’ll never forgive him for that, Will. And I’ll never place myself back under his care, where he might force me into another marriage.”
William felt the passion behind her words, but he didn’t know what to say. As his father’s heir, he didn’t have lands, or a home of his own. He served as his father’s right hand—or he had until he’d abandoned all that to rescue Elaine.
“Where would you have me take you?” William asked.
Elaine looked pained. “I would enter a convent if I could. But I’d have to leave the children with someone else. That I cannot do. I will not blame my sweet babes for their father’s sins.”
“I’m sure Father would not… if I explained. He’d give you time.”
“No! He held my life in his hands once and nearly destroyed me. I won’t give him the chance again.”
William nodded. In truth, he did not blame Elaine. He had been away in battle when she’d been hastily betrothed and wed to Lord Somerfield. He’d not even known of it until he’d come home and found her gone. William had been angry, but his father had assured him it was for the best. And when the news had come recently of her abuse, he’d been shocked that his father had only shrugged. What a man does with his wife is his own affair. She is his wife now, not my daughter, not your sister.
William had thought otherwise.
“In truth, Sister, I have not much love for Father myself. Perhaps I could give my allegiance to another lord who might grant us a small—”
“Marry me,” Christian interrupted. He’d been silent all this while, so much so that William and Elaine had almost forgotten his presence, speaking freely of family matters. But now his voice was firm, and it cut through the night like an arrow shot from his bow.
Elaine and William both stared at him, but Christian’s dark eyes, dancing in the firelight, gently fixed on Elaine.
“Pray forgive me, but I will never marry again,” Elaine said with conviction. Her eyes fell modestly to her skirts.
“I swear to you on my vow as a knight,” Christian said, laying his palm on his chest, “that I will never lay a hand on you in anger and never in passion, either. You may live chastely in your own rooms, and your children will be well cared for.”
“Christian,” William growled, finding his tongue. By the saints, Christian was serious! William was profoundly surprised, but underneath that was something he never thought he’d feel—intense jealousy. Did Christian really want Elaine?
“William, my father said I must wed upon my return. This is the perfect solution. Elaine will have a safe harbor, and you and I—”
“Christian,” William warned again, loudly.
Christian bit his lip and fell silent, but he returned William’s stare stubbornly.
Elaine was watching them now, her brow furrowed in confusion. William could feel the sweat pop out on his brow. His extremities suddenly felt numb. He poked at the fire to avoid her gaze even as his face burned.
But Christian—the man could simply not stay silent for long. He went on, voice low and soothing, as if speaking to a child, but strung through with excitement. “I told you of my father’s land in Scotland. If I wed, perhaps he’d allow me to take over the management of it. We could live there, you and I, Elaine and the children.”
“You swore to me you would stop scheming.”
“No. I swore to you that I would never again hide my plans from you. I’m not hiding them! Think on it! This will allow us all to get what we want.”
William glanced up at Elaine to find her gaze on him from across the fire, questioning and intense. He felt shame surge through him at the idea of Elaine knowing his unnatural desires. What would she think? He dropped his eyes.
“William?” Elaine asked quietly.
He couldn’t answer her. He sensed Christian stiffen near him on the log. But Christian said nothing.
Finally Elaine spoke. “When I was living in that castle for six long years,
there was only one person who was truly kind to me. Her name was Merial, and she was my lady-in-waiting for a time.”
William raised his eyes to find Elaine looking at him. There was no judgment on her face.
“I loved Merial, and she loved me, even though our relationship was entirely chaste. But when my dearest husband saw I cared for her, that I had one thing in my life that gave me courage and hope, he had her thrown from the top of the ramparts.”
“Elaine.”
She shook her head, her face dead of emotion. “If I ever let another person into my heart or my bed—and right now I cannot even imagine it—but if I ever did, it would be someone like Merial.”
William shut his eyes and took a ragged breath. He was reminded of why he’d always loved Elaine. She had such a generosity of mind, was so wise beyond her years and her proscribed station. He should have known—if there was one person he could count on to stand by him no matter what, it was her. But that did not fully erase his sense of shame.
“You will change your mind,” William insisted softly. “Time heals. Now you say you do not want another husband, but you are young. In a few years, you’ll want the warmth of a man in your bed, more babes. Do not decide hastily and trap yourself in a loveless match.”
“No, Brother. You are wrong.” Elaine began to undo the laces at the front of her gown.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” William said hastily.
Elaine ignored him, and when she’d loosened her bodice, she stood up and turned her back to them, pushing her gown off her shoulders so it revealed her skin. A maze of welts and old scars covered her back.
Christian cursed under his breath. William gave an involuntary cry, his eyes stinging, his fists clenched painfully tight. “Somerfield had you scourged?”
“No. He scourged me himself,” she said quietly. “Part of his bedroom games. It roused him. And when I was bloody and wrecked, he raped me. It happened again and again. He liked to show the power he had over me.” She pulled her gown back up and laced it. When she turned around, her face was unmoved. “I swear to you on my ruined virtue, Brother. I will take my own life before I let another man touch me.”