They continued to meander, far from the camp and the place she swam. But she didn’t care. She wanted this time with him. Wanted to watch the graceful way he weaved around the trees.
He was deep in thought now. Remembering, maybe. Most likely contemplating how to edit the telling of his life. But her disappointment was softened while watching him because as he thought, he again caressed his dagger’s hilt.
It had the same effect on her. The familiar heat that started with the brush of his hand along his pommel only increased until it flared throughout her body.
This time, in the seclusion of the woods, away from any distractions, it felt faster, deeper…
This time, he caught her watching. She had slowed her pace and perhaps in concern he turned around. Whatever he saw in her expression made him raise one brow. Defiant again.
She didn’t know what she looked like. Too stunned, too affected and breathless to move. Too naive to cover what must be embarrassment in the twitch to her mouth or the blinking of her eyes.
Though why she was embarrassed she didn’t know. He couldn’t see the heat that was flaring through her body, or the prickling across her skin.
But she couldn’t hide her breath coming in a little too shakily. How it worsened when his gaze locked with hers and more so when his eyes lowered a bit and held before they swung away to the trees again.
Her breath stopped at that moment; everything in her stopped when he looked at her lips. Looked at them as if he studied them as intently as he did her eyes. As if the answer to whatever was puzzling him was entwined between her eyes and lips.
He continued to walk, his hands seemingly restless now. He seemed restless. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Despite how it sounds, it’s actually been quite beneficial for me.’ His voice was low, husky, the only manifestation of whatever had occurred between them.
‘For the last five years as a mercenary, I’ve travelled to Spain, France, Belgium. It’s how I met the men you know today, or rather they met me. I also felt sun much warmer than the clime here and tasted foods much spicier.’
He spoke of a life she could only dream of. Travelling and eating different foods. But she was curious about the friendships he’d formed as well.
‘How do mercenaries work?’
He shrugged one shoulder. ‘Not like ours. Most troops are hastily and poorly formed. Some are gathered from dungeons where the men don’t have a choice between one kind of death or another. Other times it’s villagers too poor to appreciate that farmers can’t compete against trained warriors.’
She swallowed, not sure she wanted to know all the ways Rhain risked his life. ‘And yours?’
‘All trained, all highly selective. Sometimes it only takes our arrival to end a border dispute or an unjust siege. We’re paid handsomely all the same.’
‘So you haven’t always fought,’ she said.
‘There’s more to it than riding the horses and protecting borders.’ His voice warmed to his subject. ‘I’ve heard interesting things along the way. Corruption where there should only be innocence, betrayal where there should only be love. And treasures—no, legends—I thought were only childish games, but that actually may be true…’ He paused. ‘I always meant to follow up with that one.
‘That’s it for the most part.’ He shrugged. ‘And for you?’
‘For me?’
His lips quirked. ‘This is how conversations are to go. I say a little, then you.’
‘I don’t know what else to say.’ She’d told him the worst and he knew about Rudd.
‘You must have other memories?’
She did, but they weren’t about castles and knighthoods and legends. They were ordinary. She was ordinary, completely unremarkable that she didn’t know how to carry on a conversation. Yet, he had told her a little about himself. Couldn’t she be brave enough to do the same?
‘I suppose my happiest memories were with John and Anne, and those buckets of honey. I went home with them and they showed me a bed. Linens hanging from the ceiling for privacy. It felt like home and for the first time I cried.’
‘This is a happy memory?’
Helissent almost laughed and raised her hand to her mouth to cover her scars. ‘It is. I cried for days, tears and wails of sound. I was a mess. Bandages still needed changing, honey salve still needed applying. I was old enough to help, but clumsy with it, too. I found I enjoyed the honey, dipping my hands in it, watching the color of it change the color of my skin.’
Sometimes they had thickly applied it until the scars underneath disappeared. When the pain was not excruciating, she pretended they didn’t exist.
‘All through my crying that would never stop, Anne was there singing this song. She sang every note over and over while she dabbed at my tears and runny nose. While she wound and unwound the bandages, and applied honey where I couldn’t reach. It was beautiful; I wish you could have heard it.’
‘I have.’
‘You have what?’
‘From you. You sing this song constantly. It’s hers, isn’t it?’
‘I sing?’
He nodded his head. ‘Terribly. I didn’t have the heart to tell you. Shouldn’t tell you now that I know what it means.’
Embarrassed, she blurted, ‘I’ll stop.’
‘Not if it makes you happy.’
She didn’t know what to say to that, or to the warmth in his amber eyes.
‘I haven’t cried since, not even when they died. They’d given me an abundance of care and love.’ She shrugged one shoulder. ‘Then Rudd showed up.’
Rhain’s expression darkened and she didn’t know if it was at the mention of Rudd or because they came across the camp and there would be no meandering now.
She couldn’t hide her disappointment at seeing the fire or at hearing the other men’s voices. She didn’t have many happy memories. Her mother’s spoon, her father’s book, Anne’s song, her first perfect honey cake.
She didn’t have many memories, but she’d shared them all with this man and, by doing so, might have just created another. She didn’t want it to end.
Then she felt his hand on her wrist. He held it lightly, but it was enough to stop her progress. Enough to stop her heart as heat entered his eyes and he whispered in her ear, ‘No more frowns, Helissent. I won’t allow it. Not now that I know how unsurpassed your legs are. In all my days I’ve never seen finer.’
She released her wrist from his hold, and wanted to frown at him for mocking anything about this time together. But his eyes were all light and she realized he did it to make her smile. And she almost did. ‘You weren’t looking at my legs.’
‘No, I wasn’t.’ Flashing a grin, he walked into the camp.
His face grim, his scar pronounced, Nicholas stopped him almost immediately.
‘What’s happened?’ Rhain said.
Nicholas glanced at Helissent and lowered his voice. ‘Mathys has returned.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘What’ll we do?’ Nicholas asked after they talked to the men.
Rhain rubbed his eyes. The conversation was short, brief. Precise as a knife and just as deadly.
Mathys had no trouble riding to York. It was on his return that he and his party were stopped.
Supposedly it was a friendly conversation. At first, the other riders enquired about the weather and the roads. Nothing personal, not even names or where they hailed from, was exchanged.
Then as they turned to leave, the leader had said this, ‘Tell him she has safe passage into York.’
Rhain had compensated Mathys for his time. Now the mercenaries ate and circled Helissent to protect her. Though no explanations had been said, Mathys was no fool. He knew a warning when he heard it.
It was enough protection so that he and Nicholas left th
e camp. What they had to say and plan wasn’t for anyone’s ears.
‘It appears we don’t have to do a thing,’ he said. ‘Reynold has found me.’
‘Us,’ Nicholas added. ‘And he knows of Helissent.’
‘Which means we’re surrounded.’ No going back to Tickhill, which obviously had spies reporting to Reynold.
Mathys gave a good description of the man in York, but he could be one out of a thousand men. Further, he had met Mathys outside the city’s gates, which meant they were all along the roads.
Had they seen her swim, watched him talk to her like some suitor? He heard nothing, saw nothing. Though he accompanied her to keep her safe, simply standing next to her probably sealed her fate.
‘All that’s left is to ride to York.’
‘Then we confront Reynold?’
‘We’ll need to stay and determine if he’s there, or nearby. We may be there for days, if not weeks.’
‘The men will get restless.’
‘The men will have to be told.’
Nicholas raised his eyebrow. ‘About Guy?’
Rhain nodded. ‘Everything. Until we know more, Helissent is at risk. They’re already protecting her; they should know why.’
‘Carlos will be pleased for more of her company.’
‘She won’t know the men are following her.’
Nicholas whistled low. ‘By doing so you’re declaring your intentions towards her. Seems dangerous when Reynold is spying on you.’
Rhain let out a breath in irritation. ‘I have no intentions when it comes to her. She didn’t ask for a death sentence on her head when she requested to travel with us.’
‘No, she didn’t, but you rescued her anyway and went into her home for a long, long time. Came out without your tunic—’
‘Enough,’ he growled.
Nicholas shook his head. ‘You didn’t leave her in that tiny village, where she’d be a hell of a lot safer than with us. Now you’re laughing again. You haven’t done that for five years.’
‘That man you knew is no more.’
‘I thought so, too, but since we picked her up, you’re changing. It’s because of her.’
Never. That Rhain, that carefree life, was gone. He had been without a care because his brother had taken on a terrible burden. It should have been him carrying their dark secret. At least he carried it now and would until his death. He was nothing like the man he was and resented being reminded of him.
‘If you were anyone else…’ he warned.
‘They wouldn’t be able to warn you away from her as I can,’ Nicholas replied.
‘From what?’ Rhain’s thoughts darkened and his hands clenched into fists. ‘If this has to do with her appearance—’
Stepping back, Nicholas swept his hands in front of him. ‘What do you take me or any of the men here for? Any man worth his soul would know that woman is far too good for the likes of us.’
Rhain reined in his temper. ‘What do you warn me from then?’
‘I told you she’s better than any of us here and that includes you. Not only for what we do, but for the danger we represent and that was before your obsession and your…misstep in London.’
Misstep in London. He had a nobleman, with power and wealth and vengeance, crying for his head. It could be described as a bit of carelessness on his part, but he knew it was a monstrous transgression that Helissent couldn’t be anywhere near.
‘We travel to York and, after we evaluate the city for a few days or weeks, I’ll leave her there. Maybe Reynold will leave her alone.’
‘Abandon her without any protection?’
‘What would you have me do?’
‘You could let Carlos close to her. He maintains a manor in Spain and could give her a position and his protection.’
‘Never.’
‘And you prove my point.’ Nicholas gave a mirthless laugh. ‘After all these years of chasing after the pendant for that necklace, you think I can’t recognize your obsessions?’
* * *
Helissent could barely keep her eyes open as they approached the outskirts of York’s great walls. Over the last two days, Rhain and his men, all with hoods up, rode as if their lives depended on it. With no discussion, she now shared riding amongst them.
Rhain’s countenance was always dark, his expression dim. Her shadow man had returned and he ignored her.
Except at night, before they went to bed. For two nights now, Rhain would look around the camp as if for distraction.
At those times she couldn’t look away from him and, almost against his will, his eyes clashed with hers. Never for long, never enough. But in those brief times, she saw a wild bleakness…a sort of hopeless regret. Shadows, so many shadows, and he seemed more alone than ever. Now they’d reached York.
This was where they would part. She wouldn’t know what plagued Rhain or the men, or what Mathys had said when he returned to their camp. These men were on an assignment, and it did not include her.
‘Mathys secured us accommodations,’ Rhain said. ‘You’ll be in bed soon.’
A bed, somewhere to sleep properly, take care of her skin and the harshness of the days in the sun. But they’d reached York and their agreement wasn’t on anything further.
‘I can find my own.’
‘You’ll stay where we put you.’
Determination. She’d get no leniency with him now. ‘For tonight…’ she whispered, too tired to argue. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
She woke in a spare small room, no more than a cupboard and almost as dark. But there was room for a pallet and some linen. There was privacy with a roof and a door. It was more than she ever had before and she felt even more grateful for it as she laid listening to the sounds echoing outside.
It had to be late in the day—she couldn’t remember ever sleeping late. When she was younger, her pain never allowed it, when she learned to bake, it forced her to wake early. Then Rudd had come, and she worked to appease and to stay away from him. Now she had none of those worries as unfamiliar sounds surrounded her.
She had fallen asleep almost immediately last night. Rhain and Nicholas caring for her as they made sure her accommodations were acceptable. Nothing untoward, all solicitous. The innkeeper and his wife kind, courteous. Whatever Rhain paid for her room, he’d paid well.
She would need to find work to repay him.
With a resolve she hadn’t felt in a long time, she dressed and went out the door ready to explore her new home.
* * *
Hours spent with her feet throbbing from the unforgiving cobblestones, and her skin stinging from the lack of rest and little salve she had left, Helissent was exhausted. Her right leg dragged a bit behind her, but she didn’t mind the increased pain. Not after the victories of the day.
It was already late afternoon, but she’d walked the entirety of York. Keeping mostly to the magnificent walls and soaring gatehouses, she gaped at the sights around her.
Atop the hill, the Cathedral was always in sight, stunning, beckoning. Soon she would go to give thanks for being here.
York was a city she could truly get lost in. An over-abundance of people and animals and children. She gathered some looks, a few stares, but everyone was different. Too busy to be cruel. Too self-absorbed to notice another stranger among many.
And the industry, the market stalls, the vendors and shops! The wares and the astounding choices. Carvings and craftsmanship she had never seen before, parcels of pastries, each bite made to melt in the mouth, swathes of fabrics that glimmered, intricate patterns in quilts that would make her blind to sew. Fruits and vegetables of any kind she’d want and most she never knew she wanted. Slabs of meat just hanging, enough to feed her village for weeks.
&nb
sp; Anything she could ever dream of was here and her imagination was rampant. What would it be like to mix that particular flour with that suet? Would those currants taste better when they were soaked in that sweet wine?
The colors, the smells, the sounds were different than her own village, where people bartered the same goods day after day.
She had left her village in fear, in anger, in resignation. Because of Rudd, she was forced to leave the only home she’d ever known.
Yet, long before that night, she knew she had to go. Since his return to the inn, it had no longer been her home. He’d snapped towels against her burned side; purposefully thrust out his foot until she tripped—never to spill his ale, but always her own cooking.
In all the months since Rudd’s return, not one of the villagers had offered her the safety of their home, or exchanged threatening words with her tormentor. As the weeks passed, Rudd had only grown more confident with his jibes and cruelty.
It was just how to leave and then where to go. From years of travellers’ tales, she knew York was near and that it would suit her. But she hadn’t expected the abundance of possibilities that it provided.
She also didn’t expect to find employment, but she’d done that, too. Early in the day before leaving the inn, she’d enquired with the kind innkeepers if they needed help.
A husband and wife, with five young children. They’d inherited the inn, but it was too large and busy for them to run alone and they’d been losing money. The woman looked grateful that she was willing to help for nothing more than room and board until profits could be made for wages.
Helissent agreed to watch tonight’s preparations, so she could see how she could help. They’d even given her a bit of coin for exploring today. While it wasn’t enough to try every pastry she wanted, she was able to taste a few and even the bad pastries inspired her.
Now the day had turned to late afternoon. A time of day that would have most of her village’s residents readying for bed.
York behaved like the day was just beginning. There were still sounds of carts against cobblestones, shutters slamming, calls out in greeting and anger. But all of it didn’t distract her from what she could no longer deny.
Marriage Deal With the Outlaw & the Warrior's Damsel in Distress & the Knight's Scarred Maiden : Harlequin Historical August 2017 (9781488021640) Page 61
