by Nicole Locke
‘She wasn’t you, Bied,’ he said. ‘I never told her I loved her, never asked her to marry me. In the end, she wasn’t reckless enough for me. She’d...find a way to season my food.’
How could he make her want to laugh and cry at the same time? He started running his hand up and down her leg, the pressure gentle, possessive. Like an offering. If she wanted more, he’d give it, or he’d stay like this and take away the little aches and pains of the day.
His words both scared and warmed her. She already knew he didn’t love Mary. Louve was too...he stayed with the people he loved. Cared for them until he was sacrificing his own soul to do so. She saw that when he threw the knife towards Ian to save Balthus, then when he cradled Ian afterwards.
No. When this man loved, he truly loved, and that’s what frightened her because where did that leave them?
Even forgetting her own family responsibilities. He had great ones as well. Louve wasn’t a Warstone, family, or in any sense an usher, and yet he had his own battles to fight. All this... Warstone intrigue, lies, murder. It seemed he’d been embroiled in it for years. And he was good at it. If she knew nothing else about him other than how he was yesterday in the Hall, she’d be terrified of him. But just that same day, she’d thrown linens at him. They’d laughed.
A man that adept at what he did didn’t act like a man who wanted a land somewhere, a wife, peace.
‘I don’t want the kitchens, or seasoned food, or a plot of land that we have to work for every day.’
He laid her leg back on the bed. ‘I kept that thought of a house, a home, a wife because I wanted something...that was mine. I’ve been that selfish and that naive.’
Not naive or selfish... Lonely. How could this man be alone?
‘You have no family or siblings?’
He shook his head.
Her heart wanted to tell him she wanted him, that she’d be by his side, that... ‘We should go,’ she repeated.
‘We have so many obstacles—I know there can be no...us, but why do I feel there’s more separating you and me than what you’re telling me?’ he said. ‘If there is any urgency, Evrart or Henry know to knock on our door. The healer and her two apprentices are with Balthus at all times. If he stirs, they’ll notify me immediately. We’ve got time.’
She needed a bit more time to tell him about her family, her mother and father. He deserved to know, but she wasn’t ready. After yesterday, everything felt too exposed within her.
‘What happens now?’ she asked. ‘With everyone else?’
He exhaled. ‘I’ll need to talk to the priest about the burials. When Balthus wakes, he might want something different, but we don’t know when that will be.’
She liked it that he talked as if Balthus waking was a certainty. ‘What do you want?’
‘Ian needs to be remembered for the good he’s done. With no confession, the priest might fight me, but he will be buried on sacred ground here. I refuse to have him interned at his familial ancestral home. Those monsters do not deserve him.
‘As for the Steward, he endangered this family. Loyalty or not, I’ll leave his soul up to God.’
He lifted his eyes to hers. ‘The guards and I have come to an understanding—as long as Balthus lives, I’ll give the orders. None of them wants to do it and Evrart and the other men we paid have my back when tempers rise. Which is often since their work has almost doubled.
‘In the meantime, the fortress and the protection of it will be...challenging, especially if the Warstones attack. And as you have already guessed, I like those challenges.’
‘Those challenges aren’t safe for my family.’
‘I don’t want any of you near them. At the end of the day, I am simply a mercenary who can’t protect you from them. I know you want to leave with your sister, but right now, I can’t promise safe passage.’
‘I’ll stay for a time, Louve, until Balthus wakes. I’ll help with what you cannot do. That’ll give some time to—’
The pounding on the door made them both jump. ‘Louve,’ Evrart called out. ‘There’s a message.’
* * *
Torment. The conversation with Evrart was rushed and quiet in the hallway revealed the message he’d sent to Reynold never made it.
Foolish of him to order it sent in daylight, the rider having no experience with subterfuge. Whoever Ian used as messengers didn’t announce themselves either out of loyalty to the man he’d killed or knowing a messenger from this fortress wouldn’t be welcome in Troyes.
Then he checked on Balthus, whose fever continued, then on to the chapel and Ian’s rites, then to another fight, this one between his own men and Ian’s. There were few glimpses of Bied. The entire day nothing but loss. He carried an ache in his chest that was all his fault. Too many regrets, too many choices he should have made. When he couldn’t stand one more moment, when he couldn’t wait until night fell, he sought out Bied, clasped her wrist, and pulled her into the linen room.
With the toes of their feet touching and nothing else, he said, ‘Biedeluue.’
Her breath hitched. ‘Louve.’
Her eyes, her hair, her words, everything about her a temptation. He didn’t know what impulse it was to yank her in here, but the fact she stayed, the fact...he needed her.
So he kissed those lips like he should have done this morning, kissed them again until they had to take a breath. He wanted more. He’d always want more.
‘Hmm,’ she said, brushing away a lock of his hair. ‘You’re all dusty.’
Because he had to strike down a perfectly good guard and now he had one less man for tonight’s shift. He didn’t want to talk of that.
‘How is your sister?’ he asked.
‘You pulled me in here to talk?’ she said.
All his thoughts scattered as his blood pooled low. He shouldn’t, it would be all the harder to let her go when this was over. Bied’s open expression and her words, though... Fisting the gown at her waist, he tugged her hips back and forth until she laughed.
‘Are you sure?’ he said, already a rasp to his voice as his thoughts turned to hearing more of that laugh. To claiming her.
‘You can borrow me some more,’ she teased.
‘I do like the way these hips move, but... I want a bed under you.’ He brushed her neck with multiple soft kisses. ‘I want your gown off, your chemise off.’ He leaned to the other side and grazed the column with his teeth. ‘Then I want my clothes off.’
She laughed. ‘Men always want their clothes off, and how are you so certain I’ll give you a next time?’
This wasn’t permanent. He knew she’d talked to her sister. They couldn’t stay here. Even if Balthus had the best intentions and allowed them to stay, his focus wouldn’t be on Bied or Margery. He couldn’t want her to stay here and he didn’t know where he’d be sent to next. There was no future with them together.
But they could have tonight. ‘Because I know how to woo with words.’
‘Perhaps you do.’ Giving him a pointed look, she patted his chest. ‘My sister is well, thank you. No guards, no Jeanne since she’s returned to the kitchen. Thus, Margery’s been exploring this fortress. She enjoys the gardens. I don’t think she ever paid attention to the gardens at our village. Yesterday, she was in the kitchens moving items around, until Tess brandished a pot at her and ordered her out. Maybe she was imprisoned too long, because today she was giving instructions to the pantler on provisions.’
‘How about you, with her?’
‘She’s...reluctant to go. Or at least to return home. Evrart has family that he’s hoping are no longer under threat.’ Bied frowned. ‘She’s different than the last time I saw her. Yet I can’t help but think about what happened yesterday. She didn’t witness it and maybe doesn’t fully understand.’
How to tell her? ‘I don’t think your sister is as you remember. She didn’
t faint when we entered the room and she kept up with my odd questions.’
‘I think you’re right.’ Bied rubbed her eyes. ‘She wrote that message, but it wasn’t so I’d rescue her, it was so she’d have help to rescue herself. She’s stronger, isn’t she? That first feast, she diverted Ian’s attention away from me. She protected me.’
‘Everyone needs help. I think she gained strength just by your troublesome, reckless self being here,’ Louve said. ‘And there’s no doubting Evrart’s regard for her.’
‘I’m hardly trouble.’ She flashed a smile. ‘No, any man who is as large as he is attempting some foolish tale to cheer her far surpasses what I could hope for my sister.’
Bied’s smile wobbled, her thoughts seemingly as plagued as his. He kept one hand anchored on her hip, another he trailed along the fascinating strained folds of her gown. It would be so easy to kiss her until they were both distracted. But he wanted to know her thoughts, to hear her burdens.
‘Tess yelling would be a fearsome sight,’ Louve said.
‘I’ve never seen her lose her patience,’ Bied said. ‘Formidable, yes, but...she was terrified when she served us that ale. She knew it was poisoned. Ian’s instructions to her were very specific, but when you grabbed both goblets instead of one, she didn’t know what to do. She was no longer certain which goblets you took.’
Releasing his hold on Bied, he said, ‘There were many deeds that day I’d change. Actions I’d take differently.’
So many times over the last few days, he could have changed the path they were on. Ian had warned him that years weren’t a possibility. Told him that with his parents here, it would be up to him. Ian had practically announced he would do this. Louve had saved one brother, but sacrificed another—where was the justice?
‘What is it?’ she said, her eyes searching his. ‘Has Balthus worsened? I haven’t seen him since midday.’
She laid her palm on his cheek, he leaned into that warmth. He wanted her to share her burdens and, instead, he was giving her his. ‘Yesterday, I sent a message to Reynold in Troyes. To tell of Ian’s death and Balthus’s accident. The messenger didn’t arrive at Troyes, and didn’t return here, but his horse did.’
Bied dropped her arm. All in a matter of a fortnight she was living in a nightmare, yet Louve had been living in it for years and he seemed torn telling her. This wasn’t the life for her, or her family, but while she was here, while she could give support for Louve, she would.
‘Tell me,’ she said.
‘I reported too much in the message,’ Louve said, his voice bitter. ‘I knew better. I didn’t even code it. Thus, the elder Warstones know Ian is dead and Balthus is in grave condition. This entire day has been nothing but waiting for their attack.’
‘But the guards will—’
‘I only have a few men in our pay, the other guards are loyal to Warstones—where do you think I’ve got these new bruises from? They know I have no worth. When Balthus wakes, I’ll be no more or less than they are. And I might be less when Reynold arrives and sees what I have done.’
‘Reynold? You saved Balthus’s life!’
‘By chopping off his hand and killing his other brother,’ he said. ‘I had to send another missive to Reynold this morning to tell him that. Those words were difficult to write knowing I could be sending another messenger to his death. And he knew it, too.’
Now it was her turn to not know what to say, or how to comfort. Instead of being in bed where she could put her arms around him, she could only stand and face him.
‘They were brothers!’ A choked sound escaped his lips. ‘Family. Despite how much they hated each other, I don’t think any of them wished to kill each other and I was standing there the entire time. I should have... I have no family, no wife, no children, no parents or siblings. I should have put myself between them.’
Bied slumped against the linen shelves. They bit into her back, but it was nothing to the agony she witnessed in front of her. How did they get here? From kisses, to regrets. She wished they could be somewhere else and not this linen room where at any moment someone could interrupt them, yet when else were they to talk about it?
‘You can’t take responsibility over everything.’
‘Reports the woman who came to rescue her sister.’
She deserved that. ‘In my talks with Margery, it appears I’m a bit overprotective of my grown siblings.’
‘Not just your siblings, you launched yourself at Balthus. Ian’s knife could have lodged itself in you!’ He let out some sound, then a curse. ‘And you’ve been defending me, too.’
She might be willing to let her siblings free, but there wasn’t a chance she wouldn’t protect this man. ‘Louve, there’s something I need to tell you about yesterday in the Hall.’
He slumped against the opposite wall and slid until his feet touched hers. ‘Don’t tell me more. I already have nightmares with your brave recklessness!’
She thought to tease him some more, but she needed to be brave a bit longer. ‘When I...shoved Balthus, my gaze was towards Ian, so I watched the knife you threw.’
He bowed his head as if the effort was just too much. ‘Why?’
‘I was watching Ian because I didn’t know what he would do and Ian moved.’
He raised his head. ‘What are you saying?’
‘He angled his body,’ she said as clearly as she could, knowing she couldn’t repeat it. ‘At the last moment, he threw himself towards the dagger.’
Blue eyes dark with anguish. ‘He said he was but a reed to a disloyal breeze.’
‘What?’
‘Ian’s reason was slipping and he knew it. He also knew his mother was trying to kill him. All he had at the end was betrayal and I was the man who ensured it.’
‘No! At the end, he said something about your promise.’
‘He wanted me find his wife and sons, to apologise for him.’ Louve rubbed his face. ‘I lied to the priest about those words. I told him that Ian made a dying confession so he could be buried in sacred ground.’
Shoving away from the shelf, she cupped his jaw and rubbed away the few tears that had escaped. Strong arms wrapped around her and she rested her cheek against his chest.
‘I didn’t want to kill him,’ Louve said, rubbing his chin along her head.
‘I know. He was your...very odd friend with some good in him. You were right to lie to the priest to bury him here. Ian was right to put his trust in you.’
Some of the tension in Louve’s body eased. ‘I kept thinking there was good in him and then he threw that dagger. It was instinct to throw mine.’
‘There was good,’ she said, looking back up at him. ‘Margery told me what Ian said in his sleep. They were words about his wife and children. You said his reason was slipping, but he still loved them. Maybe he was worried about losing that last bit of good in him. Maybe he trusted you to help him.’
‘I’m trying to comprehend what you’re telling me,’ he said. ‘You believe he threw that dagger on purpose, knowing that I’d throw mine, so he could die?’
She paused, needing to tell Louve more while she could. Balthus could wake or die, but either way everything would change for them.
‘Complicated, I know—maybe you’re not the only one who is good at second-guessing Warstones and their games. And, yesterday can’t all be about you. I’m not too certain I didn’t make it worse for Balthus’s hand when we crashed to the floor.’
His gaze softened. ‘So that’s what we’ve been doing the last few days, living with second-guesses and regret.’
‘It appears so.’
‘Bied, there’s one thing I haven’t regretted or second-guessed, and that’s those words I said.’
That he loved her and her heart knew she loved him as well. Why else had she wanted to trust him when he told her he’d rescue her sister? Why else sta
nd next to him in the Hall, and worry about Balthus? Why else did she lie with him in the vilest of kitchens? And when he pulled her into this foolish room, why did she want to just stare until her heart was full of the sight of him?
There was love between them, but there were also burdens. Legends and gems, and parchment. They were both homeless and needed to earn their coin.
And even if they could scrape enough up to have some little place somewhere, she was certain she couldn’t go down the path of her mother. Of just waiting to be abandoned or...
No, in that Louve would be different. She hardly remembered her father, but if they had a house and home, Louve wouldn’t leave. He wasn’t weak. But...a home where they’d till land and bake bread would just bring back all the memories of leering, pawing men, and...she’d have to tell him what she’d done to secure their home. It would break her.
No, she loved him, and as such she had to let him go.
‘I have to provide for my family and you have to play those games and where will that take you?’
His eyes! One moment of pain, of vulnerability, but something she said...hurt him.
Then with a growl and a predatory gleam, he said. ‘The games take me nowhere tonight and I’m still thinking about that bed.’
Going to sleep with his arms around her, of seizing any last moments together? She grabbed his wrist. ‘Let’s go.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘You’re awake.’ Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Louve entered Balthus’s room. It was dark outside, but morning was coming. He’d barely heard the healer’s soft knock on their door and Bied hadn’t heard it at all so he left her to her rest. She’d gone to bed mere hours ago.
‘I wish I wasn’t,’ Balthus said, his words groggy.
‘We’ll disagree for ever on that one.’ Louve sat at the chair nearby. ‘I’ll be returning that missive you wrote before the hunt. The one that tells Reynold the regrettable years as brothers you lost and the sincere regard you have for him.’
A corner of Balthus’s lip curved. ‘You didn’t read it.’
