“How is Miguel?” he asked as he settled his arm about her.
“Weak, but his fever is manageable, and the poultice seems to be containing the swelling. I only wish I could honestly tell him he’d recover full use of his arm.”
“His career as a mercenary is done, anyway. After giving testimony against his employer, no one will hire him.”
“He seems to have many talents,” she ventured, following the lacings on his woolen tunic with her finger. Then she tipped her head back to smile up at him. “Much like his brother.”
“I doubt that his ambition runs to farming.”
“With his friendly ways, he might enjoy being a shopkeeper. Perhaps he’ll take a liking to one of the merchants’ daughters.”
“Or several of them.” He chuckled. “Have you become so attached to him already?”
“I have.” She nestled closer and rested her cheek on his other shoulder. “For all his swagger, I think he’s rather lost.”
Kissing her temple, Eric smiled. “I’m certain you’ll help him find his way.”
***
“We’ve searched everywhere, Father,” Christian reported grimly as Gabriel motioned for Eric to join them in his receiving room early the next morning. “He’s vanished, but we found a cave filled with provisions, clearly meant for him should he ever have need of a hideout. It appeared he’d been there recently but left before we arrived.”
“His men?”
“The garrison is still in place at Briarton. The others—” He shrugged.
“May I offer an opinion, Gabriel?” Eric asked.
“That’s why I sent for ye, lad.”
“Colton won’t be content ’til he regains his wife. To keep her and Andrew safe, you’ll be forced to lock them in this castle under constant guard.”
“That’s absurd,” Christian protested.
“Or you could offer him something else he desires,” Eric continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.
“Which is?” Gabriel prompted.
“Me.”
“You’re mad,” Christian declared. “He nearly killed Miguel, and you plan to dangle yourself before him like raw meat to a wolf?”
“’Tis the only way to end this. My farm appears to be isolated and defenseless. Once he realizes that I’m not here, he’ll come after me, and I’ll deal with him when he arrives.”
“Too dangerous,” Gabriel proclaimed.
“Eric, I agree. It’s far too risky a plan. What if Grant isn’t alone?”
“He will be. His fight now is with me, and he’ll not be satisfied merely to know I’m dead. You heard his instructions to his men last night. He wants to kill me himself.”
“Must ye say it like that?”
“Fear not, mon ami.” Eric patted Christian’s shoulder. “I have a few tricks he’s not yet seen.”
***
Eric sensed the movement outside his house even before he saw the shadow slinking along the ground.
It had been three days since the Redmond clan’s fateful raid on Briarton, and one of his front doors stood open to admit the evening breeze. Heavily scented with pine, the air rang with the sounds of nocturnal creatures beginning to stir. A mournful owl was answered by another, and two wolves yipped back and forth in conversation.
“A lovely night, is it not?” he asked without looking up from repairing Micah’s bridle.
“You’ll no doubt be pleased to know I’ve been forced to live in the woods like an animal,” Colton retorted in a clipped voice.
Adopting a casual mien, Eric tipped his chair back and grinned. “Few animals live in caves stocked with smoked meat and wine.”
Glancing about, Colton demanded, “Where is Elisabeth?”
“I’ve not seen her today.”
“And last night?” Edging closer, he snarled, “Did you enjoy bedding my wife?”
The time for sparring had passed, and Eric eased his chair onto all four legs. Rising to his full height, he hoped to intimidate Grant. Though not long ago, he’d have been satisfied only with the man’s life, he truly had no wish to kill him. As the furious nobleman rushed him, he saw no hesitation in those pale brown eyes, only vengeance.
Eric moved from behind the table and easily sidestepped the first attack. The man seemed dazed and weak, his normally fluid movements disjointed, but his gleaming knife didn’t waver as they circled each other searching for an opening. Staggering a bit, Colton stumbled. The knight Eric once was would have driven his knife home as his opponent fell.
The man he’d become reached out a hand to steady him.
With inhuman strength, Grant knocked the knife away, pinning Eric’s arm behind him whilst locking an iron grip about his throat. Nudging the tip of Eric’s own blade into his back, he snarled, “At last, I’ve bested you. I only wish Elisabeth was here to watch you die.”
Blood, a trickle at first, and then more, slithered down Eric’s back, and he couldn’t decide whether Colton sought to impale him or strangle him. As his lungs strained for breath and spots danced before his eyes, he fought desperately to escape the lethal hold.
Suddenly, Eric pitched forward, barely catching himself on his hands before crashing to the floor. He scrambled out of arm’s reach, and only then did he turn to glance over his shoulder.
A look of horror frozen on his aristocratic face, Grant clawed at something he felt behind him, then dropped in a heap. After what seemed an eternity, his lifeless body went limp, slumping as if the bones had left it completely.
Behind him stood Elisabeth, Eric’s fallen knife still in her hands, her gown spattered with Colton’s blood. Her expression a mixture of fury and remorse, she dropped the blade as if it had bitten her.
Eric struggled to his feet, but at his first step, pain shot from the small of his back to his toes. If she’d not steadied him, he’d have landed back on the floor.
“Lie down,” she entreated. “Let me have a look.”
Grumbling all manner of curses under his breath, he stretched out on his stomach.
“’Twill have to be stitched,” she declared as she folded the lower part of his tunic onto itself and tucked it into the waist of his trews to stem the flow of blood.
“Of course, it will,” he muttered in disgust. “I let him trick me, Lise.”
“I know. I saw.”
“Why the Devil are you here?”
“I overheard your conversation with Father the other day so I knew what you’d planned.”
He pushed himself up to sitting, frowned when he saw the taut lines about her mouth. “And you followed me down here each night to wait for Colton?”
“It seemed the only way to ensure I’d be here if you needed help.”
“I’m most grateful for that, but I regret being the reason you were forced to make such a difficult choice,” he said gently.
“You were dying. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”
The anguish in her voice told him what that decision had cost her. Twice, she’d sacrificed herself for him, three times if he considered the effort required for her to carry and birth his son. She mutely stared at the body of her husband, a man she’d once cherished as a friend, and tears started down her cheeks.
Ignoring the pain of his wound, Eric drew her onto his lap. He knew of no words that could ease her sorrow, so he wrapped his arms about her and held her as she wept.
Epilogue
“Good morn to you, Christian,” Elisabeth greeted him as he strolled through the welcoming entryway into Maison Jordanne.
Miguel, his bound arm long since out of its sling, lay sprawled out on the floor in a patch of late autumn sunlight. Bearing no resemblance to the mercenary he’d once been, he seemed content in the midst of the rambling farm Eric had carved for Andrew.
“And to you,” he replied, then turned to Miguel. “Hola, mi amigo,” he ventured in halting Spanish.
“Faílte,” Miguel answered. When Andrew held up a small sheep with a questioning look, he said, “Caora
. Baahh.”
“Your Gaelic is much improved,” Christian complimented him.
“Andrew has been tutoring me.” He tossed a grin over his shoulder at Glenda. “And his lovely nurse, of course.”
Chuckling, Christian followed Elisabeth into the kitchen. Eric entered through the back door, stooping to kiss her cheek. His hand moved to her stomach, splayed in a protective gesture even an imbecile could interpret.
Smiling at her husband, she turned to Christian. “Would you care for something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You’re not,” Eric assured him with a proud smile. “No doubt, you’ve guessed our news.”
“Indeed, I have. It still amazes me how very unbarren my sister became when she began sharing her bed with you.”
“Christian!” Elisabeth glanced nervously to the doorway. “Glenda will hear you.”
Far from repentant, he grinned. Shaking her head, she asked, “Where are you off to?”
“Edinburgh.”
“For the Council of Clans?” When he nodded, she frowned. “Conditions along the Borders are growing worse, aren’t they?”
“If the English would simply go away, we’d all be much happier. But enough grim news. Have you a sense about this one?” he asked, glancing to her waist.
She tipped her head back to smile up at Eric. “A girl.”
Christian came forward to kiss her cheek and shake Eric’s hand. “At last I’ll have a niece.”
“If she’s like her mother, she’ll be a brazen little handful.”
She laughed. “You make it sound like a virtue.”
“It is,” he assured her, nuzzling her shoulder. “I’m certain your brother would agree with me.”
Christian was uncharacteristically silent, and she realized he’d left. “It seems he prefers a long, bumpy ride to our company.”
“Don’t let it vex you, mon cœur,” Eric murmured at her ear. “I’ll stay with you as long as you’ll have me.”
Turning to face the man who’d weathered so many storms to be with her, she cast him an impish smile. “That could be a very long time.”
“I hope so.”
Dedication:
For Rob
If you’d like to learn more about me, head over to juliahawthorne.com.
You’ll also find me at my virtual hangouts: Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Goodreads. I hope you’ll stop by frequently and see what’s new!
Copyright © 2015 Julia Hawthorne
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions
By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.
Please Note
The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Cover Design and Interior format by The Killion Group
http://thekilliongroupinc.com
Thank you.
Dangerous Page 20
