She quelled the urge to give in to the fear and focused, knowing he would give her an opportunity and she would strike. Her hand slid to the sheath and she wrapped her fingers around the shaft. The rigid metal beneath the leather emboldened her, like the touch of a friend. She slipped it free beneath the cover of her skirts.
He stepped in nearer yet, but she held fast. Come closer, she thought. Just a little more. Her gaze remained on his face, but she could see the horse behind Cedric. Moonshadow’s nostrils flared and the whites of his eyes glowed bright. It was clear he sensed the danger and he seemed to encourage her. One more step. Then the horse neighed and Cedric turned his head at the sound. It was now or never.
The sun’s rays reached in and woke William. He reached to the space next to him and was dismayed to feel empty sheets. Cool sheets. She’d been gone a while. Where? He rose and dressed, then went to the main hall in search of her.
He checked the courtyard, then hurried to the stables. He hoped she hadn’t been foolhardy enough to go riding alone. Did she not know dangers lurked? As William feared, Moonshadow was gone.
Exhaling a sigh of irritation, William threw a saddle on his stallion and rode out. He was unsure of her course, but when he was away from the manor, he slowed his pace. William was rewarded with fresh hoof prints in the dew-soaked earth. An easy mater now to follow. He only hoped no miscreants thought the same and sought her out. When he found her, he intended to remind her how dangerous it was to ride without a guard.
He walked on, tracking her, until he was near a stand of trees. He knew beyond them was a cool stream. She would stop there, he reasoned. It was a cool and pleasant place to rest.
As he came closer, his hackles rose. Something was amiss. He dismounted and, stepping soundlessly, he approached the clearing, straining to catch any sounds.
Voices.
Dariana’s and a man. He could tell by the tones it was not a happy conversation. William hesitated before moving forward. He saw Moonshadow and hoped the horse wouldn’t sense him and give him away. He peered through the leaves into his worst nightmare. His wife stood but a breath away from Cedric. All the blackguard had to do was reach out and strike her, or—he dreaded to even think the word—kill her.
William was helpless. If he leaped out, Cedric would attack her. William could do nothing for the moment but hold. It was torture. No one moved. Then the horse whinnied and Cedric turned. William jumped forward, but it was too late.
Now!
Dariana threw herself at the villain, knife at the ready. She drove the blade forward into his gut. The feeling sickened her, but she knew she could not relent. Cedric’s eyes grew in his disbelief. He slashed at her with the flat of his hand, but she jumped back out of his reach and received only a glancing blow.
Blood flowed from his stomach, first staining the front of his tunic, then dripping down his leg and pooling on the ground. They stood there, neither moving, watching his life drain into the wild ferns. Cedric cocked his head, then dropped to his knees like a stone. He remained that way for several seconds. Dariana wished she’d pulled the knife out of him; she feared she’d need it again. All at once, Cedric toppled face-first into the dirt.
Dariana heard an odd, keening sound, high-pitched, with misery and relief combined. Was that noise coming from her? She looked down at her hand, at Cedric’s blood drying in the crevices. She felt as if she was caught in some terrible dream. She sank to the ground, hot tears flowing down her cheeks. Arms came around her and she screamed and struggled to free herself.
“It’s over, my love. It’s done. He is dead. You are safe.”
The words penetrated and she stopped her resistance. She looked up into William’s handsome face and reality flowed back.
“I didn’t want to kill him, but he gave me no option. Him or me. Or you. Was I brave? Did I do the right thing?”
William crushed her body against his. He held her, rocking her, soothing. “I thank God you are safe. What possessed you to come here alone? What were you thinking?”
“I was tired of being afraid. I didn’t seek him out, but when he appeared, I did what I had to do. It was not my intent to kill him, but what else could I do?”
“You were very brave. I only wish I could have aided you. I would gladly have spared you.”
“I know that. You are my knight and my love. Sometimes we must face things without help. Will you take me home now? There is blood on my hands and I desperately need to wash it away.”
She stood quietly as William gathered the horse. He shot a withering look to the lifeless body of his half-brother, then he helped her mount Moonshadow and together they rode back. William remained silent and she was appreciative. She had taken a life and her thoughts were confused: gratitude, guilt, relief. One day they would speak of this and he would help her sort out her feelings. For now, she would ride toward home with him by her side. It was enough.
Dariana was surprised to see the inner bailey full of people, including the king himself.
“Are you well?” Leah asked, rushing forward. “When you didn’t appear to break the fast, we wondered if aught was amiss.”
The king stepped forward. “Is that blood on your hands, Dariana? Were you set upon?”
It was William who answered. “Aye, your majesty. By a mad dog.”
“Knowing the lady,” Henry said, “the beastie is dead and I can see she is quite intact.”
“Aye, your majesty, ‘tis the fact.” William’s pride was clear.
The king could only shake his head.
Night had wrapped its arms around the castle and all had settled down after the day. Dariana lay in William’s arms, her head nestled in his shoulder. He reached down to stroke her belly and she smiled.
“I never want our daughter to be afraid,” Dariana said.
“We cannot stop life,” he said. “But we can make her strong enough to face whatever comes.” He hesitated. “Are you so certain it is to be a girl?”
Dariana grinned up at him. “At first I thought a son, but now I wonder if the child could be a daughter.. Would you be distressed if that were so?”
“Nay, my love. As long as she is the image of her mother. But—I think I will have to insist that we keep trying until we have a son as well.”
“Well, my lord, if that is your wish. Perhaps we should keep practicing in the meanwhile.”
“You are a lusty wench.”
“And would you have it any other way?”
He answered her with a fervent kiss.
BIOGRAPHY
Leslie Hachtel was born in Ohio, raised in New York and has been a gypsy most of her adult life. Her various jobs, including licensed veterinary technician, caterer, horseback riding instructor for the disabled, and advertising media buyer have given her a wealth of experiences.
Her favorite stories as a child—and stretching into the adult years—were fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen. It was the happily ever after that was so full of hope and inspiration. It was the love of those stories that led her to eventually want to write romances.
Of all of her jobs, it is writing that has consistently been her passion. That desire was fueled when she sold an episode of a TV show and had a screenplay optioned. Those successes led to her first published novel, Harriet, the story of a female serial killer. Although that was a satisfying piece, it was the lure of the romance that drew her back. So far, she has produced four novels in that genre. One of her historical novels, Captain’s Captive will soon be published by Black Opal Books. Her contemporary romance, Texas Summer is available on Amazon and through Secret Cravings Publishing. And now, of course, The Defiant Bride.
Leslie lives in Memphis, Tennessee with a fabulously supportive engineer husband, a wonderful stepson, Mat and her writing buddy, Jakita, a terrier.
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