Book Read Free

Knights of Black Swan, Books 7-9 (Knights of Black Swan Box Set Book 3)

Page 59

by Victoria Danann


  “Ram?”

  “The same.”

  “So there are no cars here?”

  “No cars, electronics, or anything powered by something other than human or beast. Rammel’s great-grandfather was responsible. He was a visionary who saw the future of the world and caused these lands to be set aside to preserve the old ways. Those of us who live here have chosen to forego the excitement and convenience of electricity for the serenity of peace and the beauty of nature. Life is good and we have him to thank.”

  She looked around, clearly curious about the environs. “I see. You sound like a philosopher.”

  “Oh, no. Truly. A simpler man may no' be found on the green earth. The young prince has always preferred the woods to palace life. Wild child he was.” I chuckled, rememberin’ how near feral he’d been.

  “Wild child. Ram once called himself that.”

  “Aye. The young prince may have been only ten the first time he ran away and came here. After three times his father settled a charge on me to watch after the boy when he showed up at the cottage. ‘Tis why my wife and I have such a deep and abidin’ fondness for the lad.”

  “But that’s not the same hunting cottage we’re going to. Is it?”

  I was confused. Where had the conversation taken a strange turn? “Aye, the very same.”

  “So Ram has the prince’s permission to use his hunting cottage?”

  I realized in an instant that I had divulged information that was no’ mine to share. I was afraid that, in my eagerness to learn about the young lady, I’d overstepped my station and made a serious error.

  “Em. I hope I have no’ spoke out of turn.”

  “What do you mean?”

  There was no turnin’ back. The cat was out of the bag and the lass was clearly too intelligent to fool.

  “I mean His Highness,” I glanced sideways and spoke deliberately, “Rammel Hawking, speaks very highly of you. Calls you a most uncommon lass. And here we are.”

  We were a few yards away from the cottage, when I pulled the horse to a stop. I started to get down, but the lass grabbed me by the forearm with the strength of a man.

  “You’re saying that Ram is this young prince.”

  I thought I’d been clear. “That he is. And the finest ever born should you ask me.” It could no’ hurt to put in a good word for him.

  I came ‘round to her side and offered my hand, sayin’, “Come down. I will help you.” She took my hand but did no’ place weight on it, jumpin’ to the ground with the grace of a deer. “If he is no’ here, I’ll build you a nice fire before I go.”

  I knocked on the door and called out, but there was no answer. So I let myself in. The place was neat and tidy as always. We’d insisted that, at the very least, he no’ live like an animal and it seemed the trainin’ had stuck. The room was clean as if a woman was in residence.

  “Make yourself at home,” I told her. “The fire has died, but I’ll have it rekindled in no time.”

  I stopped by the stable and saw that the mare was in her stall. Judgin’ from the water in her trough and the clean condition of the hay, Rammel had seen to her that very day.

  Next I carried an armload of firewood inside and got a nice cracklin’ blaze goin’. The cottage was well-built with a tall chimney to draw smoke. ‘Twould be cozy in no time at all. On the chance that Rammel would be a while, I replenished the stack of firewood by the hearth. I knew he’d no’ want me to leave the girl cold and without resources.

  I then unloaded the stores Moira had packed, which would last for several days.

  “’Twas a pleasure to meet you, Lady Laiken. Rammel would want ye to help yerself to whatever ye can find. I shall be seein’ ye again on yer way back to the world from which ye came.”

  She smiled. “Yes, you will. The pleasure has been mine, Liam. And please call me Elora.”

  “Very well. Give my regards to your… friend.”

  “Yes. I shall.”

  I closed the door behind me, put the geldin’ in the stall next to Ram’s mare, gave him water, fresh hay and a handful of oats. He whinnied when he saw I was leavin’ as if he did no’ want to stay in a strange place.

  “Do no’ worry, lad,” I said to him. “Horses dream of havin’ the prince for their master.”

  Turnin’ the cart for home, I could no’ help whistlin’ as I went, believin’ that all would be right with the world.

  CHAPTER 29

  Ram

  There has been one and only one constant in my life and that has been the cabin in the New Forest. More than any place, that is what I think of as home. ‘Tis the place that gives me comfort and solace, my fortress against all the world’s evils and disappointments.

  It has never failed to restore my soul. Until now.

  ‘Tis no’ the fault of the cottage. It has done no wrong. ‘Tis simply that there is no help for me. I have had the misfortune to have a human mate who does no’ recognize me as her other half. Fate does no’ take the difference in species into account however. My heart grieves as if she’d died.

  The first thing I did upon returnin’, even before removin’ my coat, was to put the photo of the two of us in New York on the mantel where I could see it from every corner. You may say I was a glutton for punishment, but havin’ a photo of her was better than no’. ‘Twas as simple minded as that.

  I was no’ able to eat for three days. Nor could I sleep. I knew ‘twas the beginnin’ of the end and I welcomed it, hopin’ ‘twas sooner rather than later. There’s no point in prologin’ misery to no end. All that was left for me was to write letters to my mother, my sister, my teammates, Liam and Moira, tellin’ each the true feelin’s that would never be expressed otherwise or again. I planned to light candles that very evenin’ and see to the task as the light faded.

  I went out into the forest with my bow. I pulled my hair back behind my ears because there was no reason to disguise who and what I was in my grandfather’s own Preserve. I wandered the woods that I had learned and loved as a boy, half seein’ what was in front of me, and asked myself if I would change things if I could.

  If I had known ahead of time that it would end this way, would I choose never to know Elora Laiken? The answer was a resoundin’ no. No matter what the cost, I would choose to see her turquoise eyes sparkle in the sun. I’d want to watch her runnin’ and playin’ with the big black dog she saved from a life of torture. I’d die a dozen times over just to see her smile at me the way she did when she was tryin’ on hats on our day in New York. For those and a hundred other reasons that flashed across my mind, I could no’ imagine no’ havin’ known her. I supposed that was love.

  I realized my feet had taken me back to the stream that ran in front of the cottage. Big puffy flakes of snow were beginnin’ to fall. The Forest was beautiful and I was grateful that I’d had such a unique opportunity to know it like an old friend. I had no’ been payin’ attention to where I was goin’, but when I looked up I stopped dead still.

  Something was wrong. There was a spiral of smoke curlin’ from the chimney. I was certain the fire had been out when I left hours before.

  I jumped across the stream and strode toward the door. When I reached the threshold, the door opened on its own. Standin’ there was a hallucination come to taunt me. ‘Twas so like Elora it made my heart break anew. I wondered what ‘twould say and do to torture me more, that cruel illusion.

  I set my bow leanin’ against the casement, pulled the quiver over my head and set it next to the bow. I would no’ give the thing the satisfaction of speakin’ first. ‘Twas an indication of madness for certain, bein’ alone in the Forest talkin’ to myself.

  Unbelievably, the thing my mind conjured said, “Hi,” then gave a little chest high wave, the very replica of Elora’s quirky little greetin’. My head turned toward the gloved hand that waved and I realized that the colors ‘round me were comin’ back to life. I was feelin’ my body as I had no’ for, I did no’ know exactly how long, days I supposed.r />
  I looked up into the doppelganger’s face and saw concern. ‘Twas then I decided she was no’ the creation of madness. ‘Twas the one thing, in the flesh, that could make me live. Elora Laiken.

  My mind leapt to the next logical conclusion. She’d no’ gone home with Storm, but traveled halfway ‘round the world to find me. That could mean only one thing. She was mine.

  I stepped toward her so that she had no choice but to back into the cabin. I could see that she had on her clothes for travelin’ and, perhaps, had been thinkin’ about leavin’. That was no’ gonna happen.

  I could no’ take my eyes away from her beautiful face.

  “Um, nice place.” She sounded nervous and began talkin’ faster than usual. “I just dropped by to say Happy Holidays and was on my way out. Liam brought me. Very nice man. Talks a lot. We came in a cart drawn by the biggest horse I ever saw. He built the fire and brought in more wood.” She gestured toward the hearth. “I had some of your ale to help warm up after the ride through the woods. I hope you don’t mind. It was very good.”

  While she was talkin’, I pulled the knit hat away from her hair, the same one we’d bought together in New York, then ran my hand slowly over her head. I was grateful for the return of color so that I could savor each and every gorgeous unusual strand of hair. The feel of it between my fingers was so marvelous I wanted to close my eyes in ecstasy, but did no’ dare take my eyes away from her. Just in case she did turn out to be an illusion, I did no’ want it to end.

  “Where are you goin’ in such a hurry?” I said smilin’ with all the joy I felt in my heart and perhaps a bit of a leer as well.

  “I, ah, want to be back in the village before dark. Great to see you. Gotta go.”

  I was choosin’ to ignore her, slowly unwindin’ the scarf from ‘round her neck, bein’ sure that I was blockin’ her path to the door. I let her go once. ‘Twas no’ gonna happen again. “There’s plenty of time,” I said, “and you’ve come such a very long way.” My words were remindin’ even myself of the wolf in the story about the red-hooded lass, but I was no’ about to be deterred by that comparison. “Why do you no’ stay for tea? And tell me the true reason for your visit? After that I will take you to the village if you still want to go.”

  ‘Twas a lie. I was never willin’ly lettin’ her out of sight again.

  I began undoin’ the buttons on her coat, indulgin’ in a brush with the close proximity of her cleavage beneath. She shivered in response to my touch and, naturally that delighted me no end.

  “And did I mention how very glad I am to see you?” I asked.

  I pushed her coat back from her shoulders and draped it over a bare limb of the sculptured tree coat rack by my door.

  She wore a prim little sweater with a neckline that began just under her clavicle. It was white and appeared to be cashmere. The sweater thrilled me in odd ways. I knew she’d worn white because I’d told her I liked seein’ her in it. She wanted to please me. And, gods knew, I wanted to spend the rest of eternity pleasin’ her.

  I took the little collar of the sweater between my fingers and said, “Soft.” Raisin’ my eyes to meet hers I could see that she had heard the unmistakable innuendo. Her breath was becomin’ shallow.

  She shook her head a little and said, “I can’t stay for tea unless you make tea, Rammel.”

  I dropped my hand, but smiled like a man who had won no’ just the battle, but the war. There was no hurry. We would take things at her pace. I began to remove my outerwear, notin’ her interest with great satisfaction. I took off the scarf, coat and tartan leavin’ me in boots, my sileathers and a long-sleeved tee. She was watchin’ me as closely as if I was an unpredictable predator.

  I poked the fire, makin’ room for another log, and went to the kitchen to start tea. Elora was still standin’ exactly where I'd left her by the door. The nervous chatter had turned to uncharacteristic quiet and I wondered if she was afraid of bein’ alone with me.

  I turned my attention to puttin’ her at ease. “Sit down. Please. Tea standin’ up is no’ nearly as good.” She looked at the couch like it was some kind of elaborate trap, but made no move to sit. So I continued. “How long have you been here?”

  “I don’t know. Couple of hours?” she said absently, still studyin’ the couch like it was a trick question.

  I pumped water into the tea kettle, brought it to the hearth, and hung it on the hinge. “How was the trip?”

  “It was… liberating, the first time I’ve traveled without people I know. It made me feel… free. Independent. Even though the details were skillfully worked out by Ms. Farnsworth.”

  I saw that Elora was still tryin’ to decide where to sit. “Are ye cold?”

  She shook her head no and smiled. I took that as a good sign. I mean a smile is never a bad thing. Right?

  I left her to go back to the kitchen and assemble a tea service, realizin’ that, for the first time in days, I was hungry. I had my back to her, but was gratified when she initiated conversation.

  “So, partner, in all the time we spent together, you never got around to telling me you’re a royal? A prince even? Liam was worried about having ‘spoke out of turn’.”

  My head came up in reflex and I stopped for a moment before resumin’ the work of assemblin’ a tea tray.

  I did no’ turn ‘round, but began answerin’ her question while still puttin’ together the tray.

  “As far as I’m concerned, I’m Sir Hawking, no’ Prince Hawking. I’ve earned my knighthood a dozen times over. I did nothin’ to become a prince except have the dubious fortune to be born royal. I never wanted people I work with to think of me as different, probably for the same reason you do no’ like it when Storm calls you Princess.”

  “How did you know I don’t like it? I never said.”

  I looked over my shoulder and had to smile at that. “’Tis my job to pay attention to you, Elora.”

  “Do Storm and Kay know? About your, uh, family?”

  “Aye. We’ve spent a lot of time together. 'Tis little we do no’ know about one another.” After a short pause I added, “Probably.”

  I carried the wood tray in and set it on the tree stump table near the fire. Elora had settled at the far end of the sofa nearest the door. I pulled the leather ottoman over and sat facin’ her, close enough that my knees were almost touchin’ hers. Close enough to make her heartbeat quicken if she was feelin’ what I was feelin’.

  “The water will be hot in a minute or so.”

  She looked at the fire, at the snow out the window, at the spot where our knees almost touched, and got lost in thought as she often did. I could tell by the way her eyes were unfocused. She went away on private, inner journeys where she sorted things out. I hoped that someday she would trust me enough to tell me about them. While she was busy on a flight of fancy, I took the opportunity to move just a little closer and rest my hands on her knees.

  I was absently tracin’ small circles on the leggin’s coverin’ her thigh when the tea kettle began to whistle. She jumped and I laughed. The sound seemed to rumble in my chest like I was tryin’ to shake off rust.

  “Welcome back.” I could no’ resist teasin’ her. To be fair, the kettle was loud. I’d always liked it that way and was used to it. “I’ve got Irish Breakfast, Earl Grey, Orange Pekoe, Black, and some very fine hot chocolate I brought just in case you might be here one day.”

  “Yes, indeed,” she smiled. “I would like some of your very fine hot chocolate, Sir Hawking. 'Twould be grand in fact.”

  “Your wish is my pleasure, Lady Laiken,” I said, carefully pourin’ steamin’ water over her chocolate and stirrin’ thoroughly before handin’ her the cup. “I also have biscuits.” I held up a plate of baked goodness.

  She looked at them and dropped her chin. “Those are cookies, Ram.”

  “No’ here. Here, they are biscuits.”

  I began to steep some Irish Breakfast for myself while sayin’, “And now you will tell me the det
ails of how fortune has blessed me with the privilege of servin’ you chocolate on this fine winter day.”

  She closed her eyes when she took a sip, then returned her cup and saucer to the tray.

  “I was actually on the tarmac, ready to leave with Storm. The jet had landed and was taxiing.” I nodded, wantin’ her to continue. “He kissed me. For the first time.”

  That was no’ what I’d wanted to hear. Every muscle in my body went taut at that revelation, but I worked hard to keep my features passive. Scarin’ her off was no’ on my agenda.

  She stopped and ran her eyes over me, noticin’ a change in my posture, but continued. “And what happened was strange. I have no explanation and probably never will. It gave me a jolt - like an electrical shock - that felt real and physically painful. In the space of a couple of seconds I saw this parade of images, all memories of you, including the night we, um, found out that aphrodisiacs are not a myth.”

  She remembered. I held my breath, eager to hear the rest.

  After a big sigh, she said, “I couldn’t go with Storm. You were right. It wouldn’t be fair to him because I don’t know how to be happy without you.” She looked at me with expectation. I did no’ want to disappoint her with my reaction. So I searched her eyes tryin’ to glean what she needed from me. “And it wouldn’t be fair to you because...”

  That was all I needed to hear. In one motion I rose to my feet, pullin’ her with me. I took her in my arms and clung to her like the salvation she was. She arched her body into mine just as I leaned forward to crush a kiss onto her tremblin’ mouth. If I lived to be a thousand, I assure you nothin’ would ever feel so perfect as that moment. ‘Twas as if we had been cast in a mold as a pair, then separated, and reunited. I was gloryin’ in the feel of her and thinkin’ about the next step when, suddenly, she broke the kiss and pulled away.

  “There’s a reason why I was leaving, Ram, why I was going to be gone before you got back.” Wait. What? “Because I can’t do palace life. No matter how I feel about you, I can never go back to that. It swallows me up. It smothers me. And it’s possible you could be king someday.”

 

‹ Prev