The Borderland Legacy

by Samantha Holt

  Dominic peered at him before turning to James. “Have you found no other?”

  “Nay, milord. We searched far and wide but found no trace. This one claims he has a wounded leg and the others would not wait for him.”

  “Aye, probably from kicking the poor lass half to death,” Jake snarled, his fist curling around his goblet. Dominic gave him a pointed look and he loosened his grip on the stem.

  He took a calming breath. This was bound to be a struggle with one of the cowardly beasts right in front of him. Winnie informed him that Isabel had not endured the horror of rape but it did little to ease the blaze that burnt through his veins. The memory of her beaten body and the pain they had inflicted was enough to set his temper alight.

  Dominic fixed the scraggly peasant with a cold stare. “What say you then? Have you an excuse for your wicked deed?”

  Jake snorted. As if there could be an excuse.

  “Nay, milord.” The man’s voice shook as he flicked a glance from brother to brother. “We just wanted some gems. We’re but poor men, milord.”

  “There are many poor men in this world but they do not beat defenseless women,” Dominic’s voice emerged with a calm that Jake knew he did not feel. While his brother controlled his emotions with an ease Jake envied, he could see clearly his brother’s disgust at having had a woman attacked and nearly killed on his land.

  The man lowered his eyes. “I know, milord. But she fought back…an’ she split Wilbur’s lip!” He shrank down as Jake’s jaw tightened. “We jus’ intended to teach ‘er a lesson and then some of the men got carried away.”

  So Isabel had fought back. It did not surprise him. He knew by now she had great courage. Any other woman would have likely given up living long ago, but not Isabel.

  “And you did not?” Dominic asked.

  “Nay, milord.”

  Jake growled and stood abruptly, knocking back his chair with a crash. Quickly coming around the table, he grabbed at the man’s rough clothing and hauled him into the air. Jake’s great height left the shorter man’s feet dangling and he choked under the strong grip, his face reddening.

  “You lie,” Jake spat.

  “Nay,” the outlaw coughed out, shaking his head vigorously.

  “I saw you kicking the lady. Do you call me a liar?”

  Jake’s tight grasp stole the air from his lungs and the peasant gaped and gasped as he shook his head again.

  “Jake,” Dominic warned.

  Jake ignored him, the red mist of anger blocking all other sights and sounds. The image of the peasant kicking at Isabel churned in his mind and he saw himself crushing the man with his bare hands.

  “Jake!” Dominic snapped sharply. “Put the man down or we will not be able to find out where his friends are.”

  He snapped his head around to Dominic and recognized the warning in his eyes. He could not disobey his brother, not in front of his household. Jake reluctantly lowered the man to the ground. He was right, of course, but it still didn’t stop the anger swirling through his body.

  The peasant coughed and gagged as he collapsed to the floor.

  Jake glowered and spat on the floor next to him. “You are lucky the lord has more foresight. I would have torn you to pieces on sight were it not for him.”

  Stomping back around the table, Jake slumped down on his chair. He couldn’t decide if he was more annoyed at Dominic or at himself for letting his temper take hold. It was rare he lost his temper but when he did, there were few who were brave enough to take him on. Only Dominic had the ability to work through his anger.

  “What is your name?” Dominic asked the man.

  “Peter, milord.”

  “Take Peter to the donjon,” Dominic instructed James. “Find out all you can. I would see the rest of these swines captured and brought to justice.” He turned his gaze on the cowering man. “Tell him all you know or I shall not stand in the way of my brother again.”

  “Aye, milord,” Peter stammered.

  Jake considered Peter though narrowed eyes as James dragged him away, his anger still un-tempered. He shoved his platter away from him, his appetite gone.

  Dominic noticed his brother’s manner and leaned over. “I could not allow you to kill him.”

  “I know. That, dear brother, is why you are lord of Thornewall and I am not.”

  Dominic chuckled. “Nay, I am lord because our mother married my father. You are a fine leader, Jake.”

  Irritation pricked at him and he tamped it down. Dominic never intended to seem condescending. There was no jealousy between the pair. Jake’s father had died when he was but a boy and his mother had remarried, bringing forth a young brother for Jake. He had enjoyed being an older brother and the two men had always remained close. Usually he did not envy his brother for much but he wished he had Dominic’s ability to control his emotions.

  And he may well have been able to, had the outlaw not lied. Jake could not stomach mistruths. He had seen all too well how lies could tear lives apart and he had little ability to suffer them from others.

  “Were you able to find out anything about the lass?”

  “Her name is Isabel.”

  “Anything else?” Dominic’s mouth split into a teasing grin.

  “Nay,” Jake mumbled.

  He had been so grateful to know her name that he had given little thought to discovering anything else. She had given him no other information on how she came to be in Thornewall and he felt foolish for not pressing the matter. It was likely she had family who were worried for her.

  “Well, no matter. Mayhap you can find out more on the morrow. You will be visiting her in on the morrow, will you not?”

  Jake narrowed his eyes at him, wondering what his brother was playing at. “Aye, I told her as much.”

  “Good. Now let us eat, Brother, for we have had enough disturbances this day and you’ll be no good to your fair maiden on an empty stomach.”

  Jake was about to protest until he realized, for whatever reason, Dominic was trying to get a rise out of him. He didn’t think of her as his maiden…did he?

  ~* * *~

  The following morning, a cheery Winnie roused Isabel. If she had been able to, she probably would have grumbled at the rude awakening but the scent of herbs and vegetables caught her attention and her stomach growled, having not eaten for nigh on two days.

  She peered blearily at the bright light that shimmered through the windows and realized her injured eye had improved. She inched it open, blinking as it ached from the invasive light. Her ears, however, had shown little improvement and, although she was becoming accustomed to the rushing sound, they still hurt. Her body was stiff and her head still fuzzy. Shadows encroached on her vision, in part probably due to the vile tonic Winnie had forced her to drink during the night.

  Winnie tottered over to her bedside and Isabel found herself smothered by Winnie’s ample bosom as she helped her up to sitting. It was a struggle, particularly with her broken rib, but they managed to prop her up enough so she could eat.

  Sitting firmly on the bed, Winnie offered her a spoonful of broth. Isabel scowled and shook her head. She would not allow her to feed her like a child.

  Winnie shook her head. Ye’ll not manage it yerself, milady, she said slowly.

  Isabel snatched the spoon from her and held her hand out for the bowl. Winnie reluctantly placed it into her hand with a smile of resignation.

  Her hand shook as she raised the broth to her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she could yet manage the hot liquid. Her throat still felt as if it was on fire and merely swallowing the tonic had been a battle. The spoon touched her lip after what felt like an age and she hastily poured it in. With the liquid gone, the spoon dropped from her shaking hand and her arm slumped to the bed. Lord, she was tired.

  Winnie picked up the spoon and took the bowl from her limp fingers. Well done, milady.

  Isabel tried not to appear sullen at the women’s words, after all, she had not intended to be patronizin
g, and she offered her a hesitant smile. The maid beamed back and shifted closer with the bowl.

  Isabel barely managed a few spoonfuls before exhaustion and pain stole her appetite entirely.

  The door opened slowly, and Isabel’s heart picked up as she waited to see who it was. Would it be Jake? Her heart sank as the long-haired man popped his head around the door.

  He looked her over with a smile before stepping into the room and walking confidently over to her bedside. Isabel shrank under the bedclothes, acutely aware of her unbound hair and thin chemise.

  She observed him as he conversed briefly with Winnie, their mouths moving too fast for her to catch what they were saying. He was handsome enough with clear blue eyes and a strong jaw. His tied back hair showed off his classic profile, but she could not help wish it were Jake that stood before her instead.

  He faced her, offering her a slight bow. Her mouth twisted in amusement at his gallant manner - she hardly warranted such behavior in her bedraggled state. His eyes glinted in return and she wondered if he thought the same.

  He spoke to her, his mouth moving quickly, and she struggled to catch all he was saying. …Lord Dominic….home…

  So he was the lord of this keep? Isabel nodded as graciously as she could manage before mouthing her thanks. Hopefully she could convey her gratitude for his hospitality.

  Dominic began speaking again, and she failed to understand anything this time. He must have noted her blank expression as he moved his mouth more deliberately and she was able to distinguish most of his words.

  We have caught one of the outlaws…

  Isabel suppressed a shudder at the thought of one of the men so close by.

  We shall catch the rest, I promise you, Isabel.

  Thank you.

  Can we send word to anyone? To let them know of your whereabouts?

  What could she say? She could not let them know she had run away, for they might send her back. If not, her father would surely come and drag her back home, should he discover where she was. Her one hope was to remain hidden until she was well enough to move on. Winter would be upon them soon and with that, snow. There would be no way of her father journeying this far north in the hopes of finding her.

  Nay, there is no one.

  Dominic frowned. No husband or father that will be worried for you?

  Nay, no one, she mouthed more firmly.

  He studied her determined expression and then shrugged with what she supposed was a laugh.

  You are a determined lassie, are you not? My brother shall be along shortly to check up on you. I will bid you good day and offer my prayers for your quick recovery.

  Isabel smiled her thanks, her defensiveness overcome by his charming countenance. With another bow, he left. Isabel puzzled over the man. If Jake was his brother then how was it that Dominic was the lord? She was certain Jake was at least five summers older than Dominic, likely nearing thirty years of age. Were they half-brothers mayhap? Was there any animosity between them? Isabel had witnessed families torn apart by things far less significant than the ownership of land.

  His open manner had also surprised her; Dominic was entirely unlike any lord she had ever met. They were normally arrogant, boorish creatures and would not deign to waste their time seeing to a woman. Both of these men were an enigma to her. Both attentive and yet entirely unlike one another. Were all men in Northumbria like this? Isabel concluded she had obviously grown up in the wrong part of England and she envied the Northumbrian women. With men like this around, no woman could possibly complain of being unhappy.

  Winnie clunked the bowl down on the chest, the vibration of it drawing her from her thoughts.

  Oh, sweet Mary, Dominic had said Jake would be along shortly and she was in no fit state to be seen!

  Motioning frantically to Winnie, she tugged at her hair and Winnie gave her a knowing smile, drawing a comb and some ribbons from her apron.

  Isabel would have laughed if she could. Thank God for Winnie. This woman was fast becoming her favorite person.

  ~* * *~

  Jake awoke late the following morning, having slept poorly that night. Sleeping in the guard’s quarters, he had not even heard the men readying themselves for the morning. Quickly clambering off his pallet, he hastily went through his morning ablutions and dressed, throwing on his rumpled tunic from the day before. His clothes were still in the chest in the guest quarters and he was reluctant to disturb Isabel to retrieve them. He would have Winnie fetch them later on in the day.

  Making his way across the courtyard, he nodded absently to those that greeted him. The morning meal remained laid out in the Great Hall but most of the household had departed, moving on to their tasks for that day. Dominic was not in the keep but that did not surprise him. His brother had little time to waste waiting for Jake to arise.

  James stood by the wooden stairs that led from the minstrel’s gallery, instructing a small group of men-at-arms. He spotted Jake and dipped his head in greeting. “My lord.”

  Jake grabbed a chunk of bread from the linen covered table and took a quick bite, his appetite still spoiled by yesterday’s occurrences.

  “Have you any information on the whereabouts of the rest of the outlaws?”

  “Aye, milord. Our outlaw friend was most helpful. They hail from Brampton. Lord Dominic has already dispatched a missive informing the Lord of Brampton of their crimes and I shall be leaving shortly to ensure they are captured.”

  “Aye, my thanks, James. Where is my brother this morn?”

  “I believe he went to check on the Lady Isabel, milord.”

  Sensations stirred in Jake’s gut and his jaw clenched. What did Dominic want with Isabel? Dominic knew he had intended to go visit with her first thing.

  Without bidding James farewell, he stomped back across the hall, throwing down the bread. He nearly missed the look of amusement James directed at him as he raced through the entrance door and across the dusty courtyard, pushing his way past the servants that were scurrying back and forth with food and supplies.

  Jake made quick work of the spiral staircase and shoved open the door unceremoniously. Winnie and Isabel both darted their heads up, their eyes wide, and he picked at his tunic as his heart thudded unnaturally. What in God’s name had come over him to make him act with such haste?

  Winnie’s astute eyes took in his crumpled clothing and tousled hair with a bemused expression. Rising from her chair, she dipped and greeted him. “Good morrow, milord.”

  “Good morrow, Winnie,” he replied tersely.

  The maid scampered over to the large wooden chest and carefully removed some of his clothing. “I shall place these in the guard’s quarters. Good day to ye, milord.”

  Winnie brushed past him and shut the door gently behind her, leaving Jake alone with Isabel. Her eyes had not left him since he had entered and he stared back as his pulse heightened, a slight prickle dashing over his skin.

  Her hair hung in a loose braid that skimmed over her shoulder, the pale morning light picking out its gilded highlights. Her eye appeared significantly better and it pleased him to note that she had lost the aura of death that had shrouded her the previous day. Even with the bruising on her face, she was beautiful. God’s blood, how would he survive around her when she was fully healed?

  Isabel offered him a tentative smile and he thought, nay, hoped that she was happy to see him. Jake scowled at the thought of his brother coming to check up on Isabel without him. He could not justify his anger, but it was there, nonetheless. Isabel traced the line of his brow and he released his frown, attempting an awkward look of concern.

  “You look better, lass—”

  They both started to talk, Jake speaking as she mouthed to him, and he missed what she said. They stopped, simultaneously clamping their mouths shut. He clenched his jaw, glancing to the floor as heat filled his face. God’s blood, he was an oaf.

  Isabel motioned anxiously to the chair at her bedside and he hurriedly sat down. They sat in
silence for a moment and Jake fought the temptation to excuse himself, clenching his sweaty palms together. What had he expected from visiting her? That they would have a pleasant conversation? He should have just come to see she was well and then left. He doubted she wanted some awkward giant hovering around her.

  He looked over at the half-empty bowl sat on the window ledge. “You have eaten?”

  A little, she indicated with her fingers.

  He nodded, a slight breath escaping his lips.

  Thank you, she mouthed, thank you for saving my life.

  “‘Twas my pleasure. I am only sorry I did not arrive in time to prevent you from experiencing such horror.”

  She watched his mouth carefully. Was he was speaking slowly enough? She responded with a slight smile and he decided he was.

  You have done enough. She plucked at her silk robe. Whose are these? I would thank the lady they came from.

  “They belonged to my mother. She was taken by the plague.”

  Isabel’s eyes dimmed. She was likely too young to remember the plague, being mayhap twenty at most. His stomach clenched as he recalled the devastation it had wrought. At the tender age of ten, he had been just able to comprehend the horror and it remained with him, even now. They would never forget the fear and uncertainty they had all suffered as entire families succumbed to it.

  Not your wife?

  A flash of anger surged through him at her words. His wife. Oh, how she had destroyed him. In spite of nearly nine summers passing, her lies and betrayal still lingered with him. If events had happened her way, he would now be lying next to his mother and stepfather. At times he suspected that might have been preferable to the numb existence that was his life at present.

  “Nay, I have no wife.”

  He observed her closely. Was there a flicker of relief? He could not imagine a woman like Isabel should care if he had a wife or not. Surely a beauty like her had a husband somewhere. If he were her husband, he would never let her out of his sight, let alone allow her to endanger herself by navigating the dangerous woods of the borderlands.

  “Have you a husband?”

  Her expression shuttered. Why should his question provoke such a response? Mayhap she had suffered hurt too. She shook her head vigorously.