by Diane Darcy
Both our futures changed that night. Do you believe in fate, my dear? I used to, but I cannot anymore. I believe we are in control of our own fate, and that it can be captured, like a child catching a moth. If you let it go in another location, will it not thrive there as well?
I believe it will. Let us put my theory to the test, shall we?
Do you remember where we almost wed? Did you know you left me, bruised, broken, scarred?
We’re not young anymore, and I cannot hurt you in the same manner you once did me, but perhaps I can harm thy son.
And, I will.
The Lady Cara will marry my son the moment we arrive at the chapel.
In one fell swoop, I will have denied you a daughter and a son by marriage, though I cannot believe you would have allowed Rupert to marry Amelia.
Ah, if only.
You might think I have lost everything this day, and that a mere slip of a girl does not matter. But I assure you, if I can inflict the pain upon your son, I myself have felt over the years, I will feel well repaid for this day’s deed.
Au revoir, my dear. May you have joy in your properties, your titles, and your future. Though if it is aught like mine, you and yours may now wonder for the rest of it, what might have been.
Lord Paul Dinsdale.
Wallace’s heart turned to stone in his chest.
Dinsdale had taken Cara?
Before he even knew he’d meant to do it, he was rushing back to the keep, and up the stairs.
He opened several doors before he found a servant. “Lord Dinsdale’s room,” was all he said.
The servant, an older, competent-looking woman, stopped making the bed and immediately came forward. “My lord, if you will follow me.”
She took him to the left and down two more doors, until she opened one on her right.
She stood aside, holding the door open with her back, and said, “Lord Dinsdale packed his things before the joust. He is gone.”
Wallace glanced around the room, already neat and tidy. Without another word, he turned and left.
He was back at his mother’s tent within five minutes.
“Dinsdale’s gone. Where does he intend to go?”
“To Durham, the kirk at the edge of the village.” Face flushing, Lady Helena glanced at her daughters.
“’Tis where I eloped with Dinsdale, where your father caught up to us, and I married him instead.”
Amelia glared. “And you are strict with me when your own behavior was not above reproach?”
Lady Helena straightened, the fire coming back into her eyes. “If anyone knows the danger of relaxed behavior, it would be me. Who better to teach you the perils, than one such as I, who once almost lost everything.”
Amelia glared at her mother.
Dori looked scared.
“Enough!” Wallace said, “I’m going after Cara, you should travel with Lord Marshall and his men. I will come for you all when I have retrieved her.”
“Nay, I will go with you,” Lady Helena pressed her lips together. “If you go alone he may kill you and none the wiser. ’Tis probably what he wants. I … I might be able to talk him from his terrible deed.”
“I’ll go as well,” said Amelia and Dori looked between each family member. “Me too?”
“Nay!” Both Wallace and his mother yelled the word at his sisters. Amelia sank onto her heels with a huff, and Dori still looked confused.
“I’ll go and speak to Lord Marshall about the girls, but I am going with you,” Lady Helena said, her gaze and tone steely as she quickly shoved clothing into a bag. “As I said, I may be the only one Paul will listen to at this point. If you think ’tis you he is trying to draw away, you are wrong.”
Wallace thought to argue, but had his men to deal with. Without another word he turned and left.
“Are we there yet?”
Cara had been shoved into a carriage, driven into a copse of trees about fifteen minutes away, and settled on a horse in front of Gargantuan.
Her life was a circus. Or, to quote Forrest Gump, a box of chocolates.
Only her chocolates were little balls of horse manure sprinkled with bugs.
“Are we there yet?” she asked, for about the fiftieth time.
The man at her back continued to ignore her like a big dumb animal.
Lord Dinsdale had moved to the front of the line about a few hours ago.
No doubt to get away from her.
When the path widened, Rupert came up to ride beside her and the smelly hulk at her back.
“How fair thee?”
Cara tried to decide how to play it. Could she charm him into letting her go?
At this point, having traveled on three separate occasions, and realizing the futility of trying to go off on her own, she decided it didn’t matter.
Besides, his father would never relent.
“I’m cold. Your nose looks broken, that must hurt.”
Looking a bit self-conscious, Rupert’s shrugged, then rubbed his torso. “My chest hurts as well.”
She pushed back the sympathy his swollen visage inspired. “Do you really think you’re going to get away with this? You guys can’t just kidnap people. Are you hoping for a ransom? You’re betrothed to Lady Amelia. I’m her future sister-in-law. How is she going to like that? None of this is very honorable,” she said, hoping to prick his pride. “Especially after Wallace let you live.”
Something shifted in the other man’s face.
“Oh. You like her, don’t you? You want to marry her? She’s not going to like you anymore after this, is she?”
His jaw hardened, but she didn’t get any more of a reaction out of him.
“You have no idea the things I could say to her that would make her hate you.”
“I’ve done naught to incur your wrath,” he said in a surprisingly rough undertone.
She was definitely getting to him.
“Oh, really? I’m just supposed to be understanding about the fact that you and your father kidnapped me?”
“I had naught to do with this,” he shot a wrathful look toward the head of the line.
“You don’t take much personal responsibility, do you?”
His jaw tightened.
“So, help me get away. Take me back to Wallace, and you can go back to Amelia, and your dad can just …” she looked up at the overcast sky as if seeking inspiration of some kind … and remembered one of her father’s favorite sayings, “eat rocks and die,” she finally finished.
Rupert let out a startled laugh.
She smiled at him, hoping to turn the tide of his loyalty. “Amelia seems truly smitten with you. I don’t think Wallace or Lady Helena want the match, but Amelia definitely does. If you help me, I could smooth your way with the others.”
“Move on,” the rugby player at her back said. “She’ll twist you until you dishonor your father.”
Rupert nudged his horse, and did move on.
She elbowed the man at her back and his mail chinked. “Oh, sure, you have nothing to say the entire day and then you run off someone who’s actually willing to talk to me.”
All that got her was a grunt.
She had to content herself with watching the scenery, which looked dull due to the clouds, and wait for rescue.
Because she would be rescued, wouldn’t she? Wallace wouldn’t want to lose her. Would he?
She thought of the way he’d held her hand last night. How he’d sought her out after the joust. The way he only smiled around her.
The doubt she’d seen in his expression earlier when she agreed to marry him, but he’d seen her reservations.
She leaned to the side and glanced back, and got a few grins from the men taking up the rear.
Wallace was not in the distance coming up the road to her rescue, but she did see someone she recognized. “Sir Gladwin?”
His head jerked up.
“Sir Gladwin, up here!”
As she craned to see around the beefcake at her back,
so happy to see one of Wallace’s men, relief sped her heartbeat.
He started toward her, but his expression was grim.
Her first thought was that she’d given him away, that she shouldn’t have called to him, but as he came up beside her, she had the awful thought that he wasn’t here to spy for Wallace.
She hadn’t given him away.
When he reached her side, she was almost sure. “You’re with the Dinsdales?”
“I am.”
Wallace would be devastated. “But why? You’re steward, you knew Wallace’s father, Wallace trusts you.”
That got a laugh from the man at her back.
Dawning realization hit. “But he shouldn’t have trusted you, should he?”
Sir Gladwin let out a heavy sigh, and a slight shrug. “I had to watch out for myself. The Wolfsbanes were ruined, and I saw no reason to partake in their defeat.”
Oh. Oh, now she saw it. “You tried to steal my necklace at the manor. You stole it from the tent.”
He nodded his head, seeming almost proud, and for that she suddenly, desperately wanted to slap him down.
She laughed, a humorless sound. “You thought Wallace would lose again, didn’t you?” She had no sympathy for him. “You bet on the wrong horse.”
Sir Goodwin’s jaw tightened. “I took him a meal last night, but he refused it.”
“He ate in the kitchen,” she remembered.
Sir Goodwin nodded.
“You meant to poison him like his father had been poisoned?”
“Nay, just make him ill and give Rupert the chance to win.”
She felt sick for Wallace. “But why? Wallace really seems to love you.”
“Wolfsbane’s losses forced me to share in the stewardship of a manor house,” his voice was sharp. “I was promised stewardship of Wolfsbane Castle once more.” His tone said he’d made the only choice open to him.
She didn’t ask if he’d murdered the other steward. She figured she knew. “So you were getting your old job back. So now what?”
He shrugged, gave her a sardonic salute, and let his horse fall back once more. “Now, my lady, I’ll serve the Dinsdales, as will you.”
“We’ll see about that!”
As he let them go ahead, she looked beyond him, and still couldn’t see very far for the hills and trees.
She had to content herself with the belief that Wallace was on his way, and they’d soon be together again.
But, like everyone else, she’d doubted, and he’d seen it. Was there no one around him he could trust? Including her?
What if he decided she wasn’t a good bet? That she probably wouldn’t marry him anyway, so he cut his losses?
She wouldn’t blame him.
She leaned back against the behemoth and tried not to cry. No way did she want this crowd to see her break.
Being a damsel in distress, didn’t actually suit her.
She’d prefer to rescue herself, and so it was somewhat irritating that she couldn’t. And if she was irritated, why shouldn’t those around her be as well?
She crossed her arms. “Are we there yet?”
There was a long sigh at her back, but it only made her smile.
“No, really, are we there yet?”
Chapter 39
Wallace refused to feel frantic.
It had taken longer to get away than he’d have liked, and they’d certainly taken more people than he’d have wished, but perhaps it was for the best.
They would catch up, he would retrieve his bride, and when he did, they’d be that much closer to Wolfsbane Castle, and his return as lord and master.
That was how he tried looking at it, anyway. The part of him that had simply wanted to ride away at speed, was second-guessing himself.
If he’d been captured, a lone man, it would not have saved Cara.
He’d needed his men, mayhap even his mother, though they had sent the girls away.
Surely, Lord Dinsdale would not hurt Cara?
Not when they could go to the king afterword and complain.
Surely, he would not truly marry Cara to his son?
His hands tightened on the reins for a moment, and he forced himself to relax, so as not to upset the beast he rode.
Dinsdale had some sort of obsession with their family.
To have everything he’d planned and plotted for destroyed, probably did set him on a path of insanity and revenge.
The king and queen had no real stake in who Cara married, and once the deed was done, would no doubt support Dinsdale.
Whomsoever God hath joined let no man put asunder. That included the king.
A runaway marriage would probably tickle the queen’s fancy, yet something else to talk about at court.
Nay, the king wouldn’t help.
They either had to catch up, or much would be lost.
Because Wallace would still take Cara away, and she’d certainly choose to leave with him, married to Dinsdale, or not.
Mayhap he should have killed the man.
If he held Lady Dinsdale, there would be a war between families, and that might be exactly what Dinsdale hoped for.
He wanted to speed his mount, and make the others do the same, but knew that for a sustained pace, they could not go any faster than they were.
If the Dinsdales would stop for the night, they could catch them.
They would not.
If Cara could just hold out, refuse to marry …
Either way, both Dinsdales would get the fight they were looking for. But rather than a long, extended one, a short vicious attack that ended with Cara a widow on the same day she’d wed might just be in order.
When darkness fell and they lit torches to lead the way instead of stopping to camp for the night, Cara realized she might be in trouble.
She’d been counting on Wallace catching up. His stubbornness would drive him through the night.
It had been long enough she was even starting to wonder whether Wallace was coming at all.
He’d gotten back his titles and properties.
And sure, Lord Dinsdale had told her he’d left a note, a sort of an, in your face, you might’ve won, but ultimately, I will hurt you in any way I can, type of note.
Could Wallace have decided that with her wishy-washy behavior, she wasn’t worth the bother?
No way. After everything they’d been through, up to and including the way they’d held hands the night before, his feelings were strong enough to mount a rescue.
But did he believe in her?
When she’d frozen up, his face had shuttered, his happiness shutting off like a faucet.
He knew she hadn’t really committed to him. After their earlier conversation, who was to say he wasn’t having the same doubts?
Stay or go, she needed to get hold of that necklace.
She needed to take some of her power back.
She snorted at the thought. What power? She didn’t have any. She was shivering, traveling through the night, Bigfoot at her back, and even if she could do something absolutely fantastic like karate-chop her way out of the situation, she had nowhere to go.
Gah! She was such a wimp.
“Hey,” she tilted her head back to look up at the beast. “Do you know where we’re going? When we’ll be there?”
Monster Mash didn’t answer.
“Because I’m thinking I need to stop soon, and make use of one of the nearby bushes.”
She actually did need to go, but it was more that she wanted to slow the pace, just in case Wallace really was back there somewhere.
Perhaps she could escape, run in circles, make them chase her?
“We will halt in less than an hour. You will wait until then.”
“I could pee on you, you know.”
“You could. And then we will both be soaked, chilled, and still we will move forward.”
Cara didn’t think that sounded pleasant, considered doing it anyway, just to be un-pleasant, but as bad as he smelled, he probabl
y wouldn’t even care.
Besides, when Wallace rescued her, she didn’t want to be covered in pee.
This whole thing was ridiculous.
She didn’t say another word, didn’t want Creature to win, but relaxed against him a little more, and let herself be lulled to sleep.
She’d save her energy for when she could do something about her situation.
Cara dozed, coming in and out of consciousness, as the horse rocked her body in a steady rhythm.
When they came to a stop, the sudden cessation of movement jarred her awake.
She glanced around to see they were in a slightly wooded area, with a church set back in the trees.
They were stopping? Relief rushed through her. Maybe someone here could help her? Or if Wallace was coming, maybe he’d travel through the night and come across them?
Rupert carried a torch to the door of the church and pounded.
Gargantuan dismounted, causing Cara to straighten up, grasp the pommel, and hold her balance while he groaned, stamped his feet, and bent forward to stretch his legs out.
He held the reins loosely in his hand, and she considered kicking the horse’s flanks and racing away, but he glanced up into her face, and even in the darkness must have seen her expression because he shot her a hard look and tightened his grip.
“Come,” he raised his hands.
She considered for a moment, decided to let him do all the work, and fell forward into his grasp.
She carefully regained her balance on the ground.
Apparently, she wasn’t the only one needing a bathroom break if the men around her were any indication, though she would prefer to hide behind a bush. “I’m heading over there,” she said in a somewhat snappish tone, and walked in that direction.
She rounded a tree, quickly took care of business, and considered running away.
But to where?
She was wearing a gown, it was cold, she was hungry, and … Mr. Munster was once again in front of her.
She gasped. “Seriously? For all you know, I wasn’t finished yet, you perv.”
“Come,” was all he said.
“Jerk,” she responded, but followed along anyway, folding her arms for warmth.