Owen was trying not to let her make him feel guilty about his position. “But you are asking me to go against a thousand men,” he said. “Monty told me to stay well clear of the king’s army.”
Delaine cocked an eyebrow. “That was before his wife became their captive. Are you willing to see him lose her again?”
Owen gazed at his wife a long, long time. The fire in the hearth brightened, giving her a powerful, resolute aura. It illuminated her face, glowed about her hair, and Owen couldn’t take his eyes off her. His wife was wise and brave where he was not. She had given him his answer and he was ashamed he hadn’t suggested it first.
“My lady,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you married? For if you are not, I should like to be the first to ask for your hand.”
She smiled in return, a blush on her round cheeks. “Fool with me not, Lord Geddington. Tell me you understand my words.”
He nodded with the resignation of a man who knows when he is beaten. “Aye, I understand you and I am ashamed that my own wife had to call me to bravery. But in truth, it was the only possible answer.” He put his arms around Delaine before turning to Dessa. “Gather the camp, Dess. We’ve an offensive to plan. Mayhap our greatest yet.”
Instead of being fearful at the prospect of facing a thousand well-armed soldiers, Dessa merely smiled. “For the love of our champion, every man here will be willing to die.”
“And you?”
She nodded without hesitation. “If it comes to that.”
Owen gazed at Dessa, sensing something in her he’d never sensed before. A maturity that came with confidence given to her by their champion, and the wisdom to acknowledge it. He smiled, a genuine smile, at the wild young woman who seemed to have finally grown up.
“Spoken like a true warrior, Lady Dessa,” he said softly. “Go, now. Gather the men. I shall join you shortly.”
Dessa fled the hut, leaving Owen and Delaine alone. When the hut was still and quiet, he turned to his wife, gazing at her a moment before touching her hair, very gently. There was a true warmth between them, a mutual respect and camaraderie that grew stronger with every passing year. Owen couldn’t imagine ever being without her. Therefore, he was willing to do everything possible to gain Cullen his own precious wife back.
“You realize the danger in this,” he said softly.
She nodded bravely, though he could see the liquid emotion in her eyes. “Of course I do. But I trust you.”
He laughed softly. “Trust me to what? Get myself killed?”
She pursed her lips irritably, though there was humor. “I trust you to retrieve Lady de Nerra and get yourself safely home.”
His humor faded. “Do not fool yourself, love. The odds against…”
She shushed him, putting her long fingers to his lips. “Do not speak of it. You will only bring about bad fortune,” she whispered. “I know very well the truth of the situation. You need not say more. But for Monty, you must do this.”
He put his arms around her, pulling her into a strong embrace and discovered she was trembling. Outside, the alarms were already ringing as Dessa called about Lord Owen’s faithful for their greatest battle yet.
Cullen heard the alarms, too.
And he would find out why.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Rockingham Castle
Morning, the next day
“You promised that my father and the others would be released,” Teodora’s voice was as cold as the morning around them. “I’ve not seen evidence of that. And where is my child? I asked for her all night and no one could provide me with answers.”
Barric gazed steadily at the countess, her face partially obscured by the deep purple hood she wore. The sun had barely risen, turning the fog that blanketed the land to a weak shade of gray. Water misted onto the castle, the ground, covering everything with a fine wet coating. Around them, the grounds of Rockingham were beginning to wake to the new day.
“Your daughter has been with the wet nurse,” Barric lied, considering he had no idea where the baby was. “I thought it best to keep her from you so that you could rest comfortably for the long journey ahead. She’ll be delivered to you shortly.”
Teodora refused to get into the elegant cab that Barric had indicated for her. It was the cab that had been used for the ambush, the sides having been covered with dark fabric to hide the Rockingham colors, which were now back on display.
It had been waiting for Teodora the moment she awoke. It had been made quite clear to her that she now belonged to the king and when he departed Rockingham for Nottingham, she would go with him. No argument, no debate on the subject. Simply cold, impersonal orders.
But cold and impersonal orders didn’t sit well with Teodora. Over the past few days, she had more than she could handle and her mind and body were brittle because of it. She was tired of being pushed around, of being made a pawn by men who were as weak as they were lascivious. Even now, she stood on the steps of the keep, glaring at the Lord Justice and silently daring him to force her.
She was finished playing games.
“I want her now,” she growled. “And I want to see that my father and Anthony and Chad have been released. Do it, Fitz Hammond, or I shall not remain as cooperative as I’ve promised.”
Barric’s gentle manner teetered. He well remembered the months of her haughty commands and imperious nature. Once again, he could see it coming forth. But he would not let it come to that again.
He would stay in control.
“I would suggest, for their sakes, that you continue to remain calm and obedient,” he said lowly. “Otherwise, there is no telling what can happen. Am I making myself clear?”
Her anger surged. “Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not. I am merely telling you the way of things.”
It was not in Teodora’s nature to back down, but she knew he had the upper hand. Her gaze moved out over the bailey, now empty of the men who had littered it, and out beyond the gates to where the king’s mercenary army was collecting.
The fog wasn’t particularly heavy and it wasn’t difficult to see the dark outlines moving about, but somehow the haze softened the reality of the hundreds of men assembled to move out. She had overheard last night from sentries passing in the corridor that they would be moving to Leicester Castle, to the home of Simon de Montfort. Leicester was amply fortified and controlled one of the main thoroughfares north and south.
And Teodora was going with them as a concubine of the king. So was Holly. Teodora had demanded her daughter all night and had yet to have her. She was tired of making demands. Something inside her snapped and she angrily gripped Barric by the throat.
“Listen to me, Fitz Hammond,” she rumbled. “I want my child. I shall have my child. Do you understand me? Where is my baby?”
Barric didn’t want to injure her by prying her fingers off and perhaps breaking one. The king would have his hide. But she was seriously choking him. His face turned red as he struggled to answer.
“Safe and well fed, Lady Barklestone.” She squeezed too hard and he grunted. “Will you please take your hands from me now?”
“Not until you bring me my baby!”
“I cannot bring her to you if I am dead!”
Teodora squeezed a moment longer before finally releasing him. Barric rubbed his throat, a surge of fury pulsing through his veins.
“One more move like that, my lady, and king or no king, I shall draw red welts across your pretty hide,” he snarled.
Teodora was beyond verbally sparring with him. She was outraged and sickened that her daughter had not been brought to her but, more than that, she was terrified and desperate. Having nothing more to say, she turned her back on him, realizing she was struggling with tears.
Last night, she’d been told to be cooperate and she had for the sakes of those she loved, but the men who held her captive were not holding up their part of the bargain. Go with the king and your father shall be safe, they had
said. That had been the bargain struck.
She could only curse herself for trusting them.
Teodora stood on the steps to the keep, struggling to keep her composure, as the sun rose and burned off some of the morning fog. The king had not yet made an appearance and the army stood, semi-disorganized, waiting for their sovereign to take charge.
As more time passed, Barric grew impatient. Much like his captive, he was brittle and exhausted. Months of dealing with Teodora and her daily rebellion against him were taking their toll. In truth, he was almost glad to give her over to John so that he would have some peace in his life.
Almost…
But, at the moment, he was simply frustrated.
Grabbing Teodora by the arm, he yanked her back inside the keep. Dragging her up the stairs, he practically threw her into her bower.
“You can wait here until the king departs,” he grumbled, though his irritation was not entirely at her. Her should have known when the king said to be ready to leave at dawn, he really meant noon. “I shall return for you.”
“What about my daughter?” Teodora screamed after him.
Barric simply snarled and slammed the door, bolting it from the outside. Alone, feeling lost and desolate, Teodora threw herself down on the bed and cried hot, miserable tears. She simply couldn’t help it. The despair she felt was overwhelming.
God, Cullen, where are you when I need you most? Do you even know what has happened?
Somewhere in the midst of her anguish, she fell into a fitful sleep, mostly because she hadn’t slept much the night before. Dreams passed through her mind, images of Cullen with a sword in his hand. Then he was holding a baby, their baby, and Teodora felt joy as she’d never felt before. To see him holding the life they had created was something she thought she’d never see, and for Holly to come to know her father seemed like a miracle in and of itself.
It was a miracle.
In her dream, she heard Holly cry. But the crying grew louder and Teodora’s eyes fluttered open as she realized that she was no longer dreaming. Startled, she sat up in bed, listening to the cries coming from the opposite side of the door. Someone was working the lock. The door heaved and shifted, and finally burst open. Norma and Willa spilled in, holding a sobbing infant, followed shortly by Sloan.
Teodora gasped with delight as Holly was deposited into her eager arms. “My baby!” she cried. “Oh, God, where have you been? I’ve been asking for you all night!”
“Forgive, my lady,” Norma said, smiling gladly at her mistress. “We’ve been in hiding. The entire castle is in an uproar!”
“Uproar?” Teodora couldn’t even look up from her baby as she spoke. “Why?”
Sloan grimly approached the bed. “There will be time to explain all of this later. We must take you from here immediately.”
Teodora glanced at him, wondering why he sounded so furious. The baby in her arms was extremely fussy and, instinctively, she pulled her cloak and gown aside to expose a large nipple. She didn’t care if Sloan watched her as she fed her hungry child.
“What’s happened, Sloan?” she asked as she nursed the baby. “I’ve been asking for my child all night. Barric made no mention that she was in your care.”
Sloan was trying to pull her up from the bed even as she nursed. “There isn’t time for this. We must leave, now!”
With the baby attached to her breast and the twins struggling to cover her, Teodora was halfway to the door before she realized she was being dragged.
“Wait,” she said as she dug her heels in stubbornly. “Where are we going? I cannot leave now.”
“You must leave now,” Sloan said. When Teodora balked, he dug his fingers into her arm and looked her in the eye. “Listen to me – if we don’t take you and the babe from this place, both of your lives will be in serious peril. I’ve spent the entire night trying to keep your child safe from these idiots and I’ve no intention of letting them have either of you. Do you understand me? I am trying to protect you!”
Teodora gazed steadily at him, trying to determine why, suddenly, he was so determined to keep her safe. Either the man was having an attack of conscience, or he had an ulterior motive.
“I am not going anywhere,” she said after a moment. “I cannot.”
Sloan was extremely frustrated. “Why not?”
She pulled her arm from his grasp and held her nursing baby more closely. “Because the Lord Justice is holding my father, Anthony, and Chad in the vault,” she said. “The terms of their release are that Holly and I go with the king.”
Sloan was at a loss. “So you would jeopardize your infant’s life by accompanying the king in order to save your father’s life?”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Teodora’s features. “Holly will be fine. I shall protect and feed her, and she will be fine.” Sloan continued to stare at her in disbelief and Teodora felt a wave of desperation. “I have no choice, de la Roarke. There are far too many lives at stake for me to be selfish. I must agree to their terms until I can think of a better way.”
Sloan slowly shook his head. “They’ve no intention of keeping their end of the bargain, my lady. Trust me; I know the king and Barric very, very well. They’ll say anything to gain your cooperation simply because they know you are a woman of honor and you’ll abide by your word. Your father and the others will be left to rot whether you go with the king or not.”
Teodora’s cheeks flushed. “I cannot allow that to happen. I shall break them out if I have to.”
Sloan grasped her arm again. “You very well may have to. But right now, we must get you and the child out of Rockingham altogether.”
Teodora allowed him to lead her to the door. Perhaps Sloan was right. Perhaps she was being far too trusting in men with no honor. The opportunity had been presented for her to escape, and she realized she should take it. Her father would understand. She and Holly would return to Cullen, and Cullen would think of a way to free her father and the others. He was so brilliant in such things that she suddenly felt like a fool for having agreed to the king’s terms so readily. But she had been frightened and confused. She knew that Cullen would clear her confusion and ease her fright. He would think of a way.
He had to.
“How are we going to get out of here, then?” she asked Sloan. “All of the entrances are covered. And when they discover me missing, they’ll seal off the castle and search it.”
Sloan was vastly relieved that she was apparently coming to see the light of the situation. She was cooperative now, eager to leave. In fact, she was very nearly pushing him through the door. In his haste, he failed to see the dark figures approaching, their drawn swords casting elongated shadows on the stone walls of the corridor.
For once in his life, Sloan de la Roarke was accomplishing something selfless and good. But the change of character did not save his life. A sword went into his gut the moment he entered the smoky corridor and he collapsed on the floor in a dying heap. The last vision he had was of Barric Fitz Hammond standing over him, a look of victory on his thin face.
“Barric,” he gurgled. “You… you bastard. Why would you do this?”
Barric leaned over him, smiling without humor. “Because I want you to remember who has bested you, de la Roarke. Let my smiling face be the last one you see.”
“Lady Barklestone,” Sloan gasped. “Have mercy, man… the babe…”
“Mercy,” Barric snorted. “Since when do you know the meaning of the word?”
Sloan tried to say something else but the words died on his lips, along with the rest of him. Willa and Norma screamed as the soldiers grabbed them and pulled them down the corridor. They pleaded and cried for mercy but Teodora stood rigid, afraid to move or help them lest she somehow jeopardize her baby’s life. The child was sleeping at her breast now and, above all, she knew she must protect her daughter. Even at the cost of those who had done so much to help her.
Her gaze found Barric, standing over Sloan’s body. The Lord Justice hande
d his bloodied sword to the nearest soldier before turning to her.
“Let that be a lesson to you, Lady Barklestone,” he said in a low voice. “This is not a game. If you intend to play it as a game, know that I play to win.”
Teodora met his gaze with contempt before turning to look at Sloan; he was quite dead, a pool of blood spreading out around him. She shook her head and looked away.
“You did not have to kill him,” she said quietly.
“I will kill anyone who interferes with the king’s desires.”
“He was trying to help me.”
“He is a traitor. Traitors deserve to die.”
Teodora felt a rush of cold fear, terrified that Barric might turn his murderous intentions on those in the vault. “What about my father?”
“Your father is a traitor.”
Teodora repressed the urge to plead for mercy. “He’s not a traitor and well you know it,” she said. “You promised to release him. Are you telling me that you are not a man of your word?”
“I promised to release him if you cooperated. I do not consider an escape attempt with Sloan de la Roarke cooperation.”
Her control slipped. “Release my father, you bastard,” she hissed.
Barric’s eyes were cold, black obsidian orbs. “He remains in the vault. For breaking your word of honor, be thankful I don’t kill him as well. Another show of resistance and I shall.” He reached out and took her by the arm, kicking aside Sloan’s body to allow her to pass. “Come along, my lady. Your king awaits.”
Teodora stepped aside as Sloan’s limp body rolled against the wall. Clutching the baby tightly, she simply did as she was told. One more word from her and he could very well carry out his threat.
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