The Chase

by Lynsay Sands

  Little George shook his head. "Aeldra and I were just returning with a rabbit to cook for sup. We arrived back to find Seonaid and Blake surrounded and battling."

  "How many men?" Amaury asked.

  "Twelve, I think."

  "Aye," Aeldra said. "There were twelve o' them, but there are only nine left now. Blake had apparently dispatched two 'ere we got there, and Seonaid killed the one who put his sword to Blake as we fetched the horses to join them."

  "Aye," Little George agreed. "There were nine left in the end."

  "Who were they?"

  Little George opened his mouth to answer again, and Seonaid left him to it as she walked to the fireplace to grab one of the chairs there and drag it back to the side of the bed.

  "Mayhap we should move below so they can eat while they explain?" Lady Emmalene suggested, interrupting Little George.

  "Aye." Amaury nodded. "Come, Little George. I would hear all that has taken place since you and Blake left Eberhardt with Lord Rolfe."

  The two men moved out of the room, but Aeldra and Emmalene hesitated.

  "Will you not come below and eat ... Seonaid, is it not?" Lady Emmalene asked tentatively.

  "Aye. Seonaid."

  Amaury's wife smiled. "And I am Emmalene."

  "Aye. I ken. Blake told me about ye and Amaury," she admitted, then gestured to her cousin. "And this is me cousin, Aeldra. She's Little George's wife."

  The lady's jaw dropped and she gaped at Aeldra with amazement. "You and Little George?"

  The woman's reaction startled a laugh out of Aeldra, as well as a smile from Seonaid. Some of the tension oozed out of her, leaving her feeling limp. "Shockin', isna it?" she commented with amusement, and Emmalene forced her mouth closed, then managed a smile.

  "Nay, nay. I am happy for Little George," she said quickly. "He has had a most tragic time of late." She hesitated and cleared her throat, then asked, "Will you come below and eat? One of the servants can sit with Blake while you do."

  "Nay. I am no hungry." Seonaid's gaze moved to her husband's face. A frown of worry immediately claimed her expression at his pallor. He was almost gray from lack of blood. If he died on her--

  "I shall send some food up to you in case you change your mind," Lady Emmalene murmured, then turned to Aeldra and asked, "Will you come below and eat with your husband?"

  Seonaid glanced to her cousin and, seeing her indecision, said, "Go on with ye, Aeldra. Eat with Little George. There's no need fer two o' us up here. 'Sides, 'tis sure I am Lady Emmalene would enjoy news o' her cousin, Lord Rolfe."

  "Oh, aye, I would," Emmalene agreed, obviously pleased at the prospect.

  "All right," Aeldra agreed reluctantly. "But shout if ye need me, Seonaid, an' I'll come runnin'."

  Seonaid nodded, then turned her attention back to her husband as the other two women left the room. She stared at Blake's still face for a long time until she felt sure his features were burned so securely into her memory she could bring them up in her mind's eye at will for the next fifty years if necessary. She hoped it would not be necessary. She was too young and too newly married to be a widow.

  *

  Seonaid awoke in her chair, still seated upright, head tipped forward and chin resting on her chest. The moment she started to lift her head, pain shot through her neck. She'd apparently slept more than a few minutes.

  Grimacing, she rubbed a hand at the back of her neck and slowly straightened, barely restraining a groan. A glance toward the window showed that the sun was rising on the horizon. Seonaid had pulled the window's tapestry aside during the wee hours of the morning to find it hid glass windows, and had been terribly impressed. Then she'd opened the window, hoping the fresh air would help keep her awake to watch over Blake. Silly as it might seem, she had a terrible fear that the moment she stopped watching him, he might develop a fever. She'd sat up most of the night, until exhaustion had claimed her.

  By her guess, she'd slept an hour or two. It was early morning.

  Turning back to the bed, she leaned forward and gently pressed a hand to Blake's forehead.

  "Thank God," she murmured, equally glad that he was neither warm with fever nor cold with death. He was so pale, she would not have been surprised to find he'd died while she slept.

  Seonaid sat back in the chair, then shifted uncomfortably. She was still tired, and now that morning had arrived with Blake still alive and showing no sign of fever, it should be all right for her to get a proper sleep. His having survived the night had been a big step.

  Standing, she took a moment to stretch muscles aching from remaining seated in one position too long, then moved around the bed and carefully climbed in next to Blake. She arranged herself on the edge of the bed, as far from him as possible, to prevent bumping him should she roll over in her sleep. She closed her eyes and let sleep claim her again.

  "Ye've been locked up in this room for two days." Aeldra stood, hands on hips, an air of determination about her as she glared at Seonaid from the other side of the bed. "And he isna even awake to ken yer keepin' vigil. Ye have to come out o' this room some time." Giving up her angry stance, she tried a more pleading approach. "Just come break yer fast."

  "I already broke my fast." Seonaid scanned Blake's face for the hundredth time since waking up two hours earlier. He was regaining some of his color but was still pale and hadn't yet woken. It was worrisome.

  "Then come out in the bailey with me and practice for a little bit," Aeldra coaxed. "Just for a little bit. Ye can come back up here afterward, and one o' the servants will sit with him. Canna they?" she asked, glancing to Lady Emmalene for support. The little blonde, about the same height as Aeldra but much more curvaceous, immediately nodded.

  "Aye. Maude or one of the other women would be happy to take your place," Emmalene said at once.

  Seonaid considered her cousin's suggestion and found herself tempted. She had been cooped up in the bedchamber for two days. Two long, wearying days spent staring at her husband's face and willing him to wake up. The longer he slept, the more worried she became. He hadn't awakened for even a moment in that time, and if he didn't awaken soon and eat, she very much feared he would just fade away in the bed and die.

  "Once he recovers, we'll be traveling on to Sherwell. What if we're attacked again? Ye'll need all yer skills to keep him safe," Aeldra added slyly, and Seonaid glanced at her sharply.

  "Has Amaury no found the men yet?" she asked with a frown. Lady Emmalene had informed her the morning after their arrival that her husband had sent warriors out searching for the band of men who had attacked them. She hadn't mentioned the matter again since, and Seonaid hadn't really thought of them. Her concentration had all been focused on Blake.

  "Nay," Lady Emmalene answered. "He says he thinks they have gone to ground like a fox seeking its hole. But he is sure they are still out there somewhere."

  Seonaid frowned over this, then stood abruptly. "Aye. I'll practice with ye," she decided. She needed to be in top form when they left. She would not see Blake injured again once he'd recovered. If he recovered. If he didn't ... She'd hunt the bastards down herself and send them to meet Greenweld.

  "Maude!" Lady Emmalene roared, and all three women glanced to Blake's face hopefully, but her bellow did not even make him stir in his sleep.

  Seonaid's mouth tightened at this added proof that his was not a normal sleep. She had already known that. She had tried to wake him several times to get him to eat some broth, with no success.

  The maid, Maude, had obviously been waiting in the hall. The door opened almost at once and she slipped in.

  "Please sit with Lord Blake while Lady Seonaid takes some fresh air," Lady Emmalene instructed.

  The maid nodded and moved around to her side, and Seonaid hesitated, then got stiffly to her feet. She had been sitting too much the last several days and was stiff everywhere. Moving out of the way, she let the servant take her seat, then said, "Call me if he wakes."

  "Aye, m'lady," the servant mu
rmured as she settled in the chair.

  "Call me if there is any change at all," Seonaid added.

  "Aye, m'lady."

  Seonaid opened her mouth again, but Aeldra grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the door. "Ye'll only be gone a little while. He'll be fine."

  "Aye," Lady Emmalene agreed, following them out of the room and pulling the door closed before bustling along the hall beside them. "A little walk in the bailey, some practice with Aeldra, and perhaps a quick bite for the nooning meal, and then you can come right back up."

  Seonaid glanced around curiously as she was led down the stairs into the great hall. She hadn't really looked about on arriving, her attention and worry had all been on her husband. Now she took in with interest the well-ordered castle with its small army of servants. "Why are the servants all wearing black?"

  "Oh." Emmalene flushed slightly. "We were in mourning. Well, we still are really, or should be, but--" She paused and shook her head. "My husband has only been dead a short while."

  Seonaid's eyebrows flew up. "I thought Amaury was yer husband?"

  "Aye, but I was married 'ere him, only my husband died and the king arranged my marriage to Amaury to keep me safe from--" She paused with a grimace, then said, " 'Tis a long story."

  "Aye." Seonaid smiled slightly as she recalled Blake's telling her all this. "Blake told me. I but forgot for a bit."

  "Oh." Emmalene smiled, then excused her. " 'Tis not a very interesting story."

  Seonaid snorted. "It sounded verra interestin' when Blake told it," she countered, and it had--murder, a race to get the lady bedded, kidnaping, and a grand escape, it had been a very entertaining tale.

  Emmalene flushed, but then her gaze dropped to the trestle tables and a small sigh slipped from her lips. "Oh, dear. Lady Ardeth is up."

  Seonaid glanced at her hostess with curiosity. The woman didn't sound pleased to see the woman in question.

  "She's a right bitch," Aeldra growled under her breath so only Seonaid could hear, and she raised an eyebrow at the words. Aeldra's only answer was a slow nod.

  Deciding she would have to remember later to get her cousin to explain that remark and what the woman had done to so obviously anger her, Seonaid let the subject drop for the moment and accompanied Aeldra to the practicing field.

  It felt good to get some fresh air and exercise after so long trapped in a room with an unconscious man. Seonaid stayed longer than she had intended because of it, and when she walked back into the keep and Lady Emmalene caught her and insisted she should stop to eat before going abovestairs, Seonaid gave in to the request, telling herself that it would only take a minute and would save the servants work. She supposed she hadn't been a very considerate guest, making Eberhardt's servants trudge up and down the stairs, bringing her food and drink when she wasn't the one ailing.

  It wasn't quite time for the nooning meal yet, so the hall was empty, but Aeldra accompanied her to the table, and Lady Emmalene joined her as well. The three of them were just finished eating and were talking quietly when Lady Ardeth approached the table. It was only then that Seonaid recalled her intent to find out why Aeldra didn't like the woman. It didn't take her long to figure it out. She gave the woman the once-over as Lady Ardeth settled herself at the table, noting her fine facial features, voluptuous curves, expensive gown and head dress, and the artistically styled blond hair. She was a lovely woman. Until she opened her mouth.

  "I saw you out practicing with your swords," the woman announced without preamble.

  "Oh?" Seonaid said mildly.

  "It must be ... interesting for a man as refined as Blake to have such an Amazon of a wife." Her voice was full of derision and her pretty face was made ugly by the sneer pulling at her lips as her eyes slid over Seonaid's braies and tunic with scorn. "Tell me, does he substitute swordplay for foreplay to accommodate your unladylike tastes?"

  Seonaid went still, aware that Lady Emmalene had released a little gasp beside her, while Aeldra had reached instinctively for her sgian dubh. Reaching to the side, Seonaid put a restraining hand over Aeldra's to keep her from removing the weapon. At the same time she patted Lady Emmalene's arm with her other hand, distracting her hostess, who had just opened her mouth, no doubt to rebuke the woman for her rudeness.

  "Blake indulges in swordplay with me on occasion," Seonaid said calmly. "However, while he's a most accommodating lover, the only sword he brings to our bed is one I doona mind sheathing ... again and again."

  The fury mingled with envy that flashed across the other woman's face told Seonaid she'd struck her mark. But she couldn't resist twisting the knife. Aeldra had pointed out Lady Ardeth's husband to her while they were out practicing. The man was a tiny, fat, old man with a mean, squirrel-like face. Her first thought on seeing him had been that he was no doubt the sort who beat his wife and abused his servants. She would bet he was not a caring and considerate lover like her husband.

  "I hope that ye were as lucky in yer marriage bed as I am," Seonaid continued pleasantly. "I realize how fortunate I have been and am grateful me father didna marry me off to one o' those sour-faced, wife-beatin' men like other women have been unfortunate enough to be forced to marry. Such a husband often makes the most lovely woman age before her time as she grows ugly with her bitterness."

  Lady Ardeth's head snapped back as if she had been slapped, then she snapped, "Bitch!" as she got to her feet and whirled away.

  Seonaid watched her storm off, trying to subdue the guilt that wanted to claim her. She'd hit her mark, all right. There had been no mistaking the misery and pain that had flashed across the woman's face before she'd controlled it and cursed at her. It was difficult to blame her for being bitter. Seonaid had noticed the faded bruises peeking out from beneath the woman's sleeves and had no doubt her life was an unpleasant one.

  "I am sorry, Seonaid. Lady Ardeth is a most unpleasant woman. I blame it on her husband. I think he--"

  "I think so too," Seonaid interrupted. "And ye've naught to apologize for. I should have been kinder."

  "Nay. You were kinder than she deserved," Emmalene assured her. "And mayhap your comments will make her temper her behavior in future. She and her husband were at court at the same time as we, and while there I saw her reduce several ladies to tears with her cruelty."

  Seonaid accepted this news with a nod, some of her guilt easing, then she stood. "I should return abovestairs."

  Much to her relief, Aeldra let her go without protest.

  Blake was still asleep when Seonaid got to their room. She hadn't seriously thought that he might wake while she was gone, but some part of her had hoped. She thanked Maude, then reclaimed her seat as the woman left to tend to whatever chores she had. Then Seonaid simply sat and stared at her husband's handsome face.

  Refined, Lady Ardeth had called him, and her husband fit the description. He was intelligent and handsome and ... refined. She could imagine him strutting around court. He had the manners, the grace ... he probably even knew how to dance. He was nothing like her.

  Seonaid blew out a little sigh. She would be a disaster at court, just as she had been in the abbey. Large and clumsy, she would knock things over and break things and embarrass Blake. Unlike Lady Ardeth, who no doubt wouldn't put a foot wrong at court. Or Emmalene.

  And the woman's jibe about substituting swordplay for foreplay had come uncomfortably close to the mark. Though it was tickling and wrestling and Seonaid usually instigated it, and Blake definitely did not leave out other forms of foreplay for it. Still, she supposed other women were not so unladylike as to roll around on the ground with their husbands, laughing and squealing like children. She couldn't see Lady Ardeth doing it, and Seonaid didn't doubt for a minute that the cruel blonde was one of the women Blake had bedded in the past. The woman had been too smug and familiar. She also suspected he had bedded the well-endowed blond servant who had wept at the sight of his wound the night they had arrived. Then there was Emmalene. Seonaid didn't think he had bedded her--she was
positive he hadn't--but when he had spoken of her it had been with great admiration and affection.

  All three women were blond, voluptuous, and most definitely feminine in looks and behavior: the complete opposite of Seonaid.

  Her gaze slid to her husband again and she felt unhappiness tug at the corners of her mouth. She'd done a lot of soul searching the last two days while sitting here alone with him. The idea of his dying had shaken her up terribly. It was the idea of being alone again ... which was a foolish thought, really. One was never alone in a castle, and Seonaid had always had Aeldra, Duncan, her father, and even Allistair before he had turned on them all. But it had been different with Blake. When they made love, when they lay alone together of a night talking, and even when they had traveled together and worked together to set up camp, it had felt almost as if they were a unit. One. During the attack, they had even moved as one, putting their backs to each other to face their enemies.

  Seonaid supposed somewhere deep down inside she had hoped that eventually that ease of interaction, that oneness, would seep into other parts of their lives. She'd even gone so far as to admit to herself that she'd started falling in love with her husband; with his honor, his good humor, his strength, his consideration. She wanted him to love her too. But how could he love a great clumsy Amazon who knew nothing about being a lady or a proper wife?

  "God's toes," Seonaid muttered to herself. She was sounding like one of those weak, whining women she hated.

  If she wanted her husband to love her then she should do what it took to ensure that happened. She could do little about her height, or the fact that she wasn't a well-endowed blonde as he seemed to prefer, but she could dress more like other women and learn some of the skills they all seemed to take to so naturally. Once she set her mind to a task, she could do anything.

  Buoyed up by these thoughts, Seonaid contemplated how best to go about what was necessary. Clothing seemed the easiest problem to tackle. She would approach Lady Emmalene and see if she could not aid her in that area. Blake had said the lady had ordered in a dressmaker and tons of material after marrying Amaury. Perhaps she had some cloth left over that could be made into a gown. And then perhaps the lady would be good enough to help her learn some of the skills she would need. Aye, Emmalene seemed her best bet.