Destined for Love

by Aston, Alexa

  Creeping away from the fire, she left the clearing, going only a little way into the woods and taking care of her business. She knew from ministering to other mothers that the need to relieve herself would increase as the babe grew within her womb and pressed upon her bladder. She placed her palm against her belly, knowing that she loved the tiny life growing within her. More than anything, she had always wanted to be a mother. She stroked her belly a few times and then gave it a fond pat.

  Faylinn took a few steps and found herself being yanked back. Panic filled her as she realized someone had seized her from behind. A strong arm held her in place and a hand covered her mouth. She tried to cry out and the arm tightened about her, cutting off her breath. She began thrashing, trying to escape, but whoever had hold of her didn’t budge. She ceased her struggling as she grew lightheaded and found herself being dragged backward. Then the movement stopped.

  A voice whispered harshly in her ear, “Don’t cry out or harm will come to you and your companion. Do you understand?”

  She nodded and the grip about her loosened, still holding her firmly but allowing her to suck air into her lungs. The hand fell from her mouth and, moments later, she felt cold steel against her throat.

  “Walk forward. Slowly,” she was told.

  Faylinn did as ordered, taking small steps back to their camp, frightened of what had become of Drake. As she and her captor drew near, Drake already stood, sword in hand, glaring at whomever held her prisoner.

  “We want the money,” another voice off to her left called.

  She cut her eyes in that direction and made out a man short in stature. Immediately, she realized he was one of the two men who had blocked the road. She wished she hadn’t felt sympathy and allowed Drake to give them a few coins. In their greed, they wanted what wasn’t theirs.

  “It isn’t yours,” he said calmly. “It belongs to Lady Mary. I am merely her escort.”

  The man behind her snorted. “I’m sure the lady is more than willing to part with it in order to spare her life.” He pressed the tip of the blade against her throat and Faylinn felt a pinch as a trickle of blood drizzled down her throat. “Unless she’d like to wear a permanent necklace of red across her throat.”

  She saw fury build in Drake’s eyes, his body tense.

  “Don’t harm her,” he warned, his voice low and deadly.

  “We wouldn’t think of it,” the stout man said. “As long as you give us the satchel and your horse. We’ll release the lady down the road. You can claim her there.”

  Faylinn thought if they did release her, Drake would possibly discover her corpse. Her greater fear was that these two would take her with them and do unspeakable things to her. She swallowed, her gaze meeting Drake’s. He would protect her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

  But she had to help him. She winked at him, hoping he would understand that she would do what she could to help slow these men. He nodded almost imperceptibly at her, allowing a calmness to descend upon her. Together, they would defeat these shameless criminals.

  Drake retrieved the satchel and tossed it to the short man. He turned and hurried toward Starlight as the man holding her began dragging her away.

  “I’m sick,” she declared. “I’m with child. I feel faint.”

  Faylinn collapsed as if she’d fainted and became dead weight in the thief’s arms. He had trouble holding her and tried to get a better grasp on her. She wound up dropping to the ground and quickly retrieved her baselard. Her captor placed both arms around her waist and jerked her up again. Fortunately, he’d left her arms free, allowing her to slam the dagger into the side of his neck. He cried out in surprise and pain and then his arms fell away from her as he crumpled to the ground.

  She stepped away quickly and saw Drake move as a blur, racing after the second thief who had untied Starlight and had just placed his foot in the horse’s stirrup. Before she could take another breath, Drake’s sword ran through the man. He fell to the ground, lifeless. Faylinn closed her eyes. Two deaths within moments was simply too much.

  She found herself imprisoned once again. This time, though, it was Drake’s arms that held her and she clung to him, sobbing in relief. He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Faylinn’s fingers clutched his tunic as she kissed him hungrily, grateful to be alive.

  Drake finally broke the kiss and she said, “I’m so cold.”

  He wrapped his arms about her and pressed her head to his chest, stroking her hair. “It happens when something of this magnitude occurs. A jolt passes through your body when danger occurs. It can give you the courage to act but then the rush fades. You can grow extremely weary or cold once your body senses you are no longer threatened.”

  Drake ran his hand up and down her back, bringing comfort to her.

  Suddenly, she pushed him away and turned to look behind her. The tall robber lay on the ground, his eyes wide in fear, his jaw open, her blade protruding from his neck.

  “I killed him,” she said dully. “I killed a man. It is a mortal sin.”

  Drake took her by the shoulders and shook her. “God would not see it that way. You did what you had to do, Faylinn. It took courage and conviction to act as you did. You saved yourself and your babe. God will not judge you for the evil those two men brought upon us. You should be very proud of what you did. I saw the determination in your eyes. I knew you gave me the chance to deal with both criminals but I never thought I would only need to handle one of them.”

  He kissed her again swiftly and released her. She wavered and he clasped her elbows, steadying her.

  “I want to leave. Now,” she proclaimed, spying the dead body of the other robber. “I cannot stay in their presence.”

  “I understand,” he said softly. “First, let me bury them.”

  “No,” she said firmly. “They went against the laws of God and man. They don’t deserve it. Let the animals of the forest have at them.”

  Her gaze met Drake’s and he nodded. “Who knew I escorted a warrior queen?” he said with admiration. “Come.”

  He led her to the waning fire and kicked dirt across it before leaning down and retrieving the satchel resting beside the dead man. They went to Starlight and he untied the horse, putting Faylinn atop it and tying the satchel onto the saddle. Drake then led the horse through the dark, moonlight his only guide until they reached the road. Swinging up behind her, he carefully moved the horse down the road. Within two miles, they came across a fairly large town.

  “Would you like to stay at this inn?” he asked. “We can remain the rest of the night and tomorrow, if you wish.”

  Faylinn only nodded, words beyond her at this point. Drake brought Starlight to the stable next door, awakening a slumbering lad so their horse could be stabled. He lowered her from the horse and her knees collapsed. Swinging her into his arms, he carried her to the inn and roused the innkeeper, who saw she was in a bad way and quickly led them to a room upstairs.

  The last thing Faylinn remembered was Drake lowering her to the bed, promising he would be there when she awoke.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Drake paced the small bedchamber as Faylinn slept on. He’d seen similar behavior before. The experience of killing a man affected people in different ways. He’d seen some men grow bolder and more aggressive over time, acting invincible and careless. Some withdrew into themselves, trying to accept that they had taken a life, and never quite recovering from the experience. Twice, he’d seen men retreat into sleep, as Faylinn now did. He himself had killed others, all with good cause. He’d accepted it because he’d been left with no other choice under the circumstances.

  Faylinn was a woman, though. Drake didn’t know how women processed anything. Though close to his mother, most other women seemed a mystery to him. He’d grown to have great respect for Faylinn, though. She had capably run Mallowbourne as Lord Amaury dipped deeper into problems of the aged. In Drake’s travels with her, he’d discovered her to be intelligent and compassionate. She’d taken
quickly to his lessons regarding the use of a blade and he gave thanks to a gracious God for the foresight of having prepared her. Faylinn hadn’t hesitated last night, striking a lethal blow when necessary, saving herself.

  But at what cost?

  He wondered if killing a man, even in self-defense, would trouble her. The fact that she also carried a life within her might come into play. He only knew that he must be patient with her once she awoke. Last night, she had been remarkably firm, demanding they quit the woods and leave the bodies of the two thieves behind. He wondered if her escape into sleep was a reaction to wanting to forget what had happened to her.

  His belly growled. Night had fallen again. Faylinn had slept through last night and the entire day without moving. Drake went to the bed again and drew the lone chair next to her. Taking her hand, he entwined his fingers through hers and closed his eyes.

  “No. No. No!”

  Drake awoke to a thrashing Faylinn. She pulled her hand from his, her head whipping from side to side as she cried out in her sleep. He loomed over her, capturing her wrists and bringing them to her sides. She quietened and grew still once more. After a few minutes, she began murmuring again, her brow furrowed. Her limbs began to move wildly again. Though he’d sworn to never do so, he climbed into the bed with her, nudging her onto her side and wrapping his arms about her.

  “You’re safe, my love. You’re safe. Go to sleep.”

  Faylinn mumbled, still agitated, but slowly she calmed. Her breathing evened. She ceased moving.

  “No more nightmares,” he whispered to her. “Rest. You and the babe need it. I am here, my dearest. I won’t leave you.”

  She slept as the dead again and Drake relaxed as sleep called out to him.

  *

  Drake came to with a start. Faylinn still lay next to him, her breathing steady. He slipped from the bed, hearing noises from the next room. Going to the door he opened it and heard activity downstairs. It surprised him that he’d slept through the night. He went to the shutters and opened them. Below him, the town stirred, the sun already rising.

  Going to the bed, he nudged Faylinn. “Wake up. You have slept a long time.”

  She opened her eyes slowly and he saw them filled with pain. Immediately, he thought something was wrong with the babe and a sick feeling rushed through him.

  She began weeping. “I killed a man. I don’t deserve to live.”

  Drake knelt and took her hand. “You acted in self-defense, Faylinn,” he said firmly.

  Shaking her head sorrowfully, she said, “God will never forgive me. I have doomed myself and my babe.” She turned away and sobbed into the pillow.

  If she wouldn’t listen to him, he knew the person to turn to.

  “I will be back,” he told her, slipping the satchel over his shoulder.

  She didn’t ask where he went or when he would return, which was unlike her.

  He hurried down the stairs and spied the innkeeper. Striding toward him, he said, “I must go out for a while. Is there someone who can stand guard at my door? My lady is unwell.”

  “My son can do so, my lord.”

  The man motioned over a young, strapping lad of about five and ten and told him which room to watch. The boy nodded and went quickly up the stairs.

  “Thank you,” Drake said and left the inn.

  Though the city was a good size, it was easy to spot the church. He strode in its direction and slipped inside. Mass was already in progress so he stood in the rear. When it ended, he followed the priest outside.

  “Father, may I have a word with you?” he asked.

  The rotund priest turned, smiling jovially. “Yes, my son?”

  “I’d like to speak in private.”

  “Do you need the confessional?”

  “No. But someone dear to me does.”

  “Come. Let us go back inside.”

  “I’ll lead the way,” Drake offered, knowing his glare would keep anyone from interrupting them.

  Magically, the crowd leaving parted and he and the priest returned to the chapel, no one stopping them. He waited for the place to empty before speaking.

  The priest addressed Drake first. “I am Father Morrow. I have not seen you around these parts.”

  He didn’t see a need to claim his false name and said, “I am Sir Drake Harcourt. I am escorting Lady Faylinn d’Albert, a widow, to her brother’s estate in Sussex. She is with child.”

  “Is something wrong with her babe?” Father Morrow asked, his concern genuine.

  “I worry about its mother.”

  Drake explained how they had encountered the two beggars who turned out to be thieves who had accosted them at their campsite.

  “One held a blade to Lady Faylinn’s throat. They wanted all her money and to take her and my horse with them. I am sworn to protect the lady and would die for her,” he said fiercely.

  “As any good knight would for his lady,” the priest agreed.

  “My lady had her own baselard. She used it to free herself from the man who held her captive as I took care of the other robber.”

  Father Morrow nodded. “Lady Faylinn seems a most capable woman if she rescued herself.”

  “Melancholy fills her, Father, because she caused the death of another. She has done nothing but sleep for two days. When she awakened, she blamed herself and doesn’t believe God can forgive her. I couldn’t convince her otherwise.” He paused. “Please. Will you come see her? Hear her confession if that’s what she needs? Help her understand that she did what she needed to do in order to protect her life and that of her unborn child?”

  “Of course,” the priest agreed.

  “I’ll make a healthy donation to your coffers,” Drake added, reaching into the satchel and withdrawing coins.

  Father Morrow shook his head. “That will be welcomed but I would come and minister to Lady Faylinn whether you did or not.”

  “I insist,” he said and Father Morrow took the donation from him.

  The priest accompanied Drake back to the inn. The innkeeper met them.

  “You said the lady was unwell. Is she near death?” he asked nervously.

  “No. She is in need of spiritual guidance, though,” the priest smoothly said.

  “When Father Morrow leaves, she will need sustenance. Me, as well.”

  The innkeeper nodded sagely. “It will be waiting for you, my lord. And I’ll send hot water to wash with, as well.”

  “Thank you.”

  Drake led the priest upstairs to the room Faylinn occupied and dismissed the young man who’d watched over her. He opened the door. She remained on the bed, curled into a tight ball. He crossed to her and touched her shoulder.

  “My lady? I’ve brought Father Morrow to see you.”

  She turned her tearstained face toward him. “He cannot help me. No one can. I will be condemned by God Almighty on Judgment Day and sentenced to burn in the bowels of Hell.”

  “I doubt that, Lady Faylinn.” Father Morrow stepped toward the bed.

  Drake moved away and went to stand by the door. The distance wasn’t far so he knew he’d be able to hear their conversation.

  “Sit up, Lady Faylinn.”

  “I’m so weary.”

  “Your lethargy will fade,” Father Morrow said sternly.

  Faylinn pushed herself to a sitting position and eyed him warily. “Do you know what I’ve done? The grievous sin I’ve committed?” she asked.

  “I’d like to hear that from you.”

  “I killed a man,” she blurted out.

  “Are you devout in your faith?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I strive to live by God’s commandments. I try to be a good example to my people and care for those around me.” Her voice broke. “But I have sinned so egregiously, Father. God cannot forgive what I have done.”

  The priest took her hand. “Who are you to tell God what He can and cannot do?”

  Faylinn looked taken aback by his words.

  “God, in His infinit
e wisdom, knows that man is flawed. That we are doomed to make mistakes.”

  She laughed harshly. “I don’t think murder is considered a mistake.”

  “Did you truly murder this man?” the priest insisted. “Did you plan his death? Seek him out and deliberately wrong him by taking his life from him?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “I didn’t even know him. I had seen him but I don’t even know what his name was.”

  “Did he seek to harm you—and your unborn child?”

  Faylinn nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He did.” Her fingers went to her throat, touching the spot the man had pierced. “He held a knife to my throat. He and his companion wanted to take our money. They told Drake I had to go with them and they would release me further down the road once they’d made their escape.” She shuddered.

  “You didn’t believe that, did you?” the priest prodded.

  “No,” she admitted. “I was afraid they would kill me. Or try to harm me in other ways, causing me to lose the babe. I am a widow, Father. My child is all I have left. I must protect it with my life.”

  Father Morrow now took both her hands in his. “You acted as all mothers would have, Lady Faylinn. When your babe was threatened, you came to its defense. You acted bravely against a sinner so atrocious that he resorted to harming women and children. You stood up for yourself and defended your life—and more importantly—that of your child.

  “God forgives those who seek forgiveness, my lady. You are not damned for eternity for behaving as any mother would. You saved yourself and your babe. That babe may grow to be a great person. One who will affect many in his or her life. Seek forgiveness—and our merciful Christ says it shall be yours.”

  Drake watched as Faylinn climbed from the bed and fell to her knees.

  “I want forgiveness, Father. More than anything.”

  Father Morrow placed his hands on her head. “God, the Ruler of Heaven, and the Living Christ absolves you from any sin, Lady Faylinn. Go forth and live your life in love, being kind to all, and raising your babe in the One True Faith.”