“Free me,” Chandra said, trying to slip from the saddle. “You have escaped.”
Aleck’s blue eyes settled on her. “I think not, milady. We are not yet away from Scotland. I fear you go to England with us.”
Sharp talons aimed at a tender young breast, quick, quick, lest he carry you afar to an alien nest.
The legend! It had come true. All of it. On a defeated moan, her head fell back against Aleck’s shoulder, she stared into the distance.
“Chandra?” When she did not answer, concern knitted Aleck’s brow. “Little one.” He smoothed her tumbled hair from her face. Still she did not respond. He closed his eyes and drew a jagged breath. “Forgive me,” he whispered, but he was uncertain if she heard. Cradling her close to him, he nudged his steed forward. “Let us be on our way,” he said to Sir John.
“What about the girl?” the knight asked.
“She goes with us.”
Aleck turned his horse toward the south. The knight and James’s men followed.
Steadily, the group pressed onward. The sun sank low in the sky, then fell beyond the horizon. Night was upon them, but Aleck continued toward his homeland. His thoughts on his ward and her cousin, he cursed himself, berated himself, lashed himself mentally, until his soul was torn to ribbons. In his anger, he’d sought to punish the sweet beauty in his arms. He’d accomplished that—in fact, he’d probably destroyed her. Himself as well.
Momentarily he gazed down at Chandra. Remembering the tortured look on her face as Devin groped for her hand, only to fall away from the blade that had sliced into him, his life slipping from him on a whisper of time, Aleck felt the light ache in his chest explode into excruciating pain.
Damn his own arrogance! Foolishly he had chanced his life and the lives of his men. Stupidly he had tempted fate, knowing that, if caught, the dangerous Cedric would react. Because of it, an innocent man fell. All for what—a kiss? As exhilarating as the sensuous interlude had been, it was not worth the horror that had followed. It was not worth Devin’s life, what little there was left. Nor was it worth Chandra’s censure. That, he knew, was still to come. He dreaded the moment when her pent-up fury unleashed itself on him. When it did, he would not attempt to escape it.
Sighing, he glanced over as the knight came up beside him. “We need to make camp. The light grows too dim,” said Sir John. Seeing Aleck’s nod, he rode back to tell the men.
Slowing his stallion, Aleck dropped back among the troop. Soon the group pulled to a halt by an outcropping of rocks that jutted from the moor. The place provided shelter from the cold night winds that blew over the barren landscape. Reining in his steed, Aleck slipped from the saddle and placed his hands around Chandra’s waist. She fell toward him like a limp doll. When her feet met the ground, Aleck steadied her.
“You’re frozen,” he said, his hands on her arms. Pulling her plaid free of her belt, he wrapped its length over the top of her head, draping it around her shoulders. His fingers worked quickly, massaging her arms, trying to get the blood flowing. “There will be a fire soon. You can warm yourself by it.”
Flimsy as a rag, her body joggled under the pressure of his ministering hands. They ran along her back, her shoulders, then her arms again. The heat flowed through her, and as the numbness left, the pain returned. Devin, she thought, seeing his face anew. First there was disbelief, then sorrow, and lastly resignation. Slowly her head lifted. Blank eyes stared up at the man who had murdered her cousin. “Take your hands from me,” she said, her voice low.
Aleck’s hands stopped their movement; he gazed down at her, holding her shoulders. The coldness in Chandra’s eyes froze his soul.
Abruptly her fury broke free. “Murderer!” she screamed as the flat of her palm struck his face; Aleck didn’t flinch. Her other hand rose, striking him twice as hard. Still he remained unmoving. “I hate you!” she cried, then her small fists pummeled his head, his shoulders, his chest, until her anger was spent. “I hate you,” she repeated, tears streaming down her face. Overwhelmed by her heartache, Chandra ran to the cover of the rocks, where she sobbed out her grief.
The entire camp had fallen silent, all within its bounds warily witnessing the incident. Even now, only the muffled sounds of Chandra’s crying could be heard. As Aleck watched her from afar, he yet felt the sting of her hands. Her anger was merited, and he hadn’t tried to deflect the blows. Releasing his long-held breath, he realized that he felt oddly drained.
Sir John hesitantly came to his side. “Should someone go after her?”
“No,” he said, keeping a vigil on Chandra. “Let her be.”
The knight, Aleck knew, was still unaware of why they had fled Lochlaigh Castle in such a rush. The two had had no time to talk, and Aleck waited for the question that was sure to come.
“The girl—she said—” Sir John cleared his throat uneasily. “What exactly happened that made us run for our lives?”
“I killed her cousin.”
Chapter
7
Through the breaks in the trees, the towers of Montbourne Castle loomed in the distance. Having crossed the border between Scotland and England nearly an hour ago, Aleck was relieved to see the familiar edifice. Darkness would soon settle around them, and he much preferred the warmth of his bed to another sleepless night spent on the damp ground. He was thankful to be almost home.
At a steady canter, the huge steed narrowed the distance that separated Aleck from his destination. Turning from the road, he led the procession of men and horses across the well-known terrain, his ward sitting in front of him, fingers gripping the pommel of the saddle. Her rigid young body held itself away from him, as it had since the troop had quit their second camp at dawn. These last two days she’d kept herself isolated from everyone, refusing to speak, refusing to eat, and Aleck was concerned.
He gazed down at her erect head, noting how her long, lustrous hair was tumbled and tangled. The heavy feeling renewed itself in his chest. She hated him, and he could not blame her. He deserved her scorn. Not only had he killed her beloved Devin, but he’d abducted her from her home. The question was: What was he to do with her now? Sighing, he urged his mount into a gallop.
Chandra heard the drone of his breath, then clutched the pommel as the stallion hit a faster stride. She felt Aleck move, then his arm banded her waist. Immediately she tried to pull free.
Dragged hard against him, her shoulders met the solid wall of his chest. “Keep still, Chandra,” he ordered above her head. “We’ve but a mile to go. Try to relax.” In defiance, she stiffened further, Aleck sighed again. Stubborn and doltish, he thought. She’d remained inflexible the day long, and she’d surely suffer for it tomorrow. Sore she would be, and all because she abhorred his touch. “Your misery will soon end, little one. Take heart, it won’t be long before you are free.”
Although Aleck meant something else entirely, Chandra construed his words differently. Eagerly she viewed the huge fortress sitting atop the next hill, relief washing through her. In a short while she’d be riding back toward the border—if he would lend her a horse. If not, she’d walk. It mattered not, just as long as she was headed home.
Aleck felt how she’d relaxed against him; his tight hold on her eased. Free was all he’d had to say, and the strain seemed to have flowed from her like a narrow river sweeping into the open sea. Then the thought occurred that she’d misunderstood him. Deciding he’d wait until they were safely inside the castle before he explained what the word free really meant, he kept his eyes on the trail, dreading her reaction.
A shout sounded high on the battlement, echoing through the lush green valley below, and as the troop rode the final uphill stretch, the gates to Montbourne Castle were thrown wide. Passing under the portcullis, his ward nestled between his thighs and held securely in his arms, Aleck viewed the many within his household who’d come to greet him, his chief steward at the fore.
“You’ve returned early, milord,” Marlowe said, curiously eyeing Chandra. “’
Tis good to have you home.”
“Aye, Marlowe. ’Tis good to be home.” Aleck looked round behind him. Sir John and the hundred-plus men soon filled the lower bailey. “Make ready some food, Marlowe. The king’s men are famished. Afterward prepare the hall so that our guests can bed down. They’ve had a hard two days’ travel and will be staying the night.” The chief steward cleared his throat and shifted his head slightly toward Chandra. “The Lady Lochlaigh will be staying indefinitely,” Aleck added. “Prepare the room next to mine.” Chandra’s head whipped around. The light of accusation shone in her eyes. “By free, little one, I meant this.” His arms swung away from her, and he dismounted. “Until I decide what to do with you, you will have to remain here,” he said, looking up at her. Then he smiled. “Welcome to England and to Montbourne Castle.”
Fire erupted in Chandra’s breast as hot fury scorched through her veins. “I’d rather be in hell,” she said, glaring at him. Before Aleck could react, she grabbed the reins. Her small foot struck out, hitting him square in the jaw; Aleck stumbled back. Urging the steed about, Chandra spurred the beast toward the open gates.
Aleck lunged at the fleeing horse and caught hold. His fingers bit into the leather saddle as he tried to hang on. “Damn you, halt!” he shouted at Chandra, at the stallion, but neither one paid him any heed.
Stunned, James’s soldiers watched the abrupt clash. All were frozen in place. Wanting to shake loose Aleck’s hold, Chandra guided her mount directly at one of the men, intending to crash into his horse. Attempting to pull himself astride the charging beast, Aleck hovered midway between the saddle and the ground, looking much like a bumbling sot after a long night’s worth of drink. Unaware of his appearance or what awaited him, he glanced forward. The impending collision was mere seconds away. Cursing, he released his grip and fell flat into the dirt.
Relief washed through Chandra the instant he let go, and again she aimed for the gate. A cry went up behind her. At Sir John’s quick orders, the ranks closed; a line of men on horseback blocked her exit. Reining around, she searched frantically for another way of escape. Her heels struck the steed’s flanks, and the two headed for the outer stairs. The stallion passed the steps, and she leapt from his back onto the stones, then ran them, climbing to the battlement.
By now Aleck had found his feet. Halfway across the yard when she’d bounded to the steps, he was already after her. His booted strides echoed off the stones behind her, and raw fear drove Chandra to the top. She reached the wall walk and scurried along it, dodging several guards who’d stood watch. Partway around the battlement, she saw a half dozen men coming toward her from the opposite side. Sir John and the others had taken a second set of stairs and were attempting to cut her off.
Hysteria bubbled inside her, for Aleck and the guards were quick on her heels. Skidding to a halt, she pressed her back against the stone merlon, then eased toward the crenel. From the comer of her eye, she could see the shadowy countryside below. She glanced left, then right at her pursuers as they converged on her from both sides. Her small dirk lay hidden in her boot, awaiting the right moment to be revealed. This, Chandra decided, eyeing Aleck as he loped toward her, was the time.
Seeing she was trapped, Aleck slowed his urgent strides slowed to a walk. He waved his hand, and the other men stopped where they were. Sir John stood several yards beyond Chandra, his men close behind him. “It’s over, little one,” Aleck said, deliberately moving toward her. Spying the open space behind her, he feared she might cast herself over the wall. “Come,” he prompted, “let’s go into the hall where food and wine await us. Afterward, a hot bath will be prepared. It will ease your aches from this long day’s ride. A good night’s sleep in a warm, soft bed, and you’ll feel much better.” He eased nearer. “On the morrow, Sir John and his men will ride south to report to James. He will carry a letter from me explaining what has happened. Until our king responds, you’ll stay here at Montbourne as my guest.” His hand reached out, and his long fingers gently took hold of her arm. “Come, sweet, do not fret. No one will harm you. This I promise.”
As he spoke, Chandra studied him carefully. A bruise was forming along his jaw where she’d kicked him, bits of straw clung to his hair, and dirt streaked his cheek and chest. In the dim light, his sky blue eyes shone with sincerity; his thumb lightly stroked her arm. Then mentally she saw Devin’s face as she last remembered it.
“Come, sweet,” Aleck repeated, urging her away from the crenel.
Devin, she thought, pretending to accede to Aleck’s gentle command. Slowly she stepped forward, her head lowered; then, lightning fast, her hand went for the dirk.
Belatedly, Aleck saw the thing whip from her boot. She’s small, but she’s quick. Sir John’s words rolled through his head as he viewed the blade a mere breath from his heart.
“You murdered my cousin, Sassenach. As payment, you too will die.”
Rage, anguish, and fear all culminated in her wide gaze. Her hand quaked from the untamed emotions spinning through her. Aleck was certain she couldn’t kill anyone, not even the man who’d slain her cousin. “If it will ease your pain to avenge Devin, thrust your blade into my heart. But know this. I did not intend to harm your cousin. I meant only to defend myself against your uncle. You saw for yourself how Devin leapt between us. I had no warning. He did it to protect you, Chandra. Had you stayed out of the fray as I commanded, your cousin would still be alive and you would yet be in Scotland. I am not the only one to bear the burden of guilt. But I shall take the blame,” He moved toward her, making certain the blade’s tip touched the leather covering his chest. “Go on. Seek your revenge.”
I am not the only one to bear the burden of guilt… . His words twirled through her mind until she was dizzy from their force. It was true. If she hadn’t tricked her guardian—not once, not twice, but thrice!—his temper wouldn’t have erupted, and he’d never have sought to punish her as he had. Likewise, if she hadn’t disobeyed him by rushing forth, intent on casting herself between the two men, hoping to stop the fight, Devin wouldn’t in turn have bounded forward. He’d done so because he felt that he had to protect her.
Aware that Devin’s death was as much her fault as her guardian’s, she still tried to deny it. Placing the blame on Aleck helped ease her conscience, and were she to rid herself of the man who’d killed her cousin, all her hurt would surely go away. Wouldn’t it? Her hand shook as she pressed the dirk into the leather just above his heart; its tip sliced through the sleek hide. He didn’t move. As she searched Aleck’s face, his eyes remained steady with hers; her courage wavered. Then it fled. The dirk fell from her hand. Turning, she thrust herself at the crenel.
Death, sweet death, take this pain from my heart! The lament tumbled through her head just as she attempted to throw herself over the edge, but Aleck captured her before she even met the stones framing the opening.
“No!” she screamed, struggling against the powerful arms surrounding her. “Let me go … let me die!”
Aleck pressed her against him. “Never,” he insisted, then gathered her more closely to him.
Unable to free herself, her struggles at last ceased. A great sob jerked from the depths of Chandra’s soul; her sorrow seemed to consume her. Her head spun crazily, and a welcome blackness swallowed her.
Quickly Aleck hoisted her into his arms, then carried her down the stairs and across the courtyard. James’s men watched in silence, a wide path having formed through their ranks. “Make ready her room,” the earl said to his steward.
“’Tis ready, sir,” Marlowe responded; on thin legs, he rushed toward the doors of the great hall and threw them open.
Aleck passed through the expanse, his unconscious burden cradled against his chest. Firm strides carried him to the upper level and the apartments, his steward scurrying along in front of him. Just as Aleck reached the door of the room adjacent to his own, another door opened farther down the corridor, and a scantily clad woman walked from inside the chamber.
&n
bsp; Damn! He’d forgotten all about Felicia, then felt certain an ugly confrontation was in the offing. “Open the door,” he commanded Marlowe, “and keep her out.”
Marlowe looked in the direction of his master’s nod; he gulped. “I’ll try, milord, but it won’t be easy.”
“Do your best,” Aleck snapped as he entered the room, then kicked the panel shut in his steward’s face. As he carried Chandra toward the wide bed centered against one wall, a moan slipped through her lips; his eyes dropped to her mouth. That enticing bit of flesh had been the cause of his downfall. Yet knowing that made little difference. Even now it beckoned to him. Forcing his attention away from Chandra’s face, he settled his ward gently on the feather mattress. Then, noting her flushed cheeks, he touched her brow. She felt feverish. The backs of his fingers trailed along her soft cheek in a light caress. “Rest, little one,” he whispered, his gaze caressing her face once more. Then he strode back to the door and threw it open. “Marlowe—” he began, then saw Felicia standing beside his steward. By the look on her face, she was perturbed; her eyes had an unpleasant glint in them. Ignoring her, he continued, “Please have Mistress Marlowe report to me at once. The Lady Lochlaigh is not well.” His steward scurried down the hall, deserting Aleck and the disagreeable Felicia.
“Not even a hello, Aleck?” she asked.
She appeared calm, but Aleck knew a volcano churned inside her, ready to erupt. “’Tis good to see you, Felicia,” he lied, strongly wishing she were anyplace but in his home. With all that had happened in the past few days, he didn’t wish to be thrown into another broil. Instead of swords, however, the weapons used would be their tongues, and Felicia’s was certain to slash him to ribbons. “As you can see, I am otherwise engaged,” he said, trying to forestall her. “We will talk later.”
The moment he’d seen her with his steward, Aleck had taken a stance in the doorway, his hard body blocking all possibility of entry. His arm extended across the opening, his palm braced against the stones framing the door, and to Felicia it appeared as though he were protecting something of great value. Through the unobstructed space beneath his outstretched arm, she caught sight of the young woman who lay on the bed. Sweet and lovely, the girl was not the big-boned, toothless hag that Aleck’s imagination had conjured. Slowly Felicia looked back to her lover.
Lord of Legend Page 13
