by Amy Tolnitch
She stared back at him, the memory of Cain waving farewell winding through her mind. “Yes. As soon as possible.”
Chapter 20
Piers walked into Cain’s workroom, his features set into unusually somber lines. He tossed a roll of parchment on the table in front of Cain.
“What is this?” Cain picked up the parchment.
“Laila left it with me to give to you.” Piers’s voice was clipped.
“When?”
“Gave it to me last eve, but told me to wait until they were away to give it to you.” Piers turned and took a step toward the door.
“Piers. Wait.”
His brother paused but did not turn around. Cain fingered the leather cord around the parchment. “I was wrong the other day. I offended you and I apologize.”
At that, Piers turned, but his expression remained cool. “My stock is well reputed. The destriers I breed bring much coin to Falcon’s Craig.”
“I know that.”
“’Tis not by accident.”
“I know you work hard with the horses. I spoke from my own frustration, naught more.” Cain rubbed the back of his neck.
“But you still meant it. You see yourself as the only responsible one, the one upon whom all the burdens rest. If not for you, Falcon’s Craig would wither and be lost.”
“It is my responsibility.”
“How selfimportant you have become.”
Cain stiffened.
“You have accomplished much, there is no denying that. You sacrificed yourself in marriage to pay the King’s amercement and acquire Styrling Castle for Mother. You brought the castle back from poverty to abundance. You fought alongside Richard, and men still talk of your bravery and skill. The great Earl of Hawksdown.”
“I will not apologize for trying to distinguish myself. There is naught wrong with that.”
Piers leaned close. “But at what cost, Cain? Can you ever be good enough?”
“No one is perfect.”
“Ah.” Piers laughed. “Well, that is a relief to hear. I feared I was the only one with flaws.”
“I have plenty of flaws, Piers. I never claimed otherwise.”
Piers’s face grew serious, and he poked Cain in the chest. “What is in there, Cain? Have you ever stopped to think of that?”
“I do not have time to sit around contemplating my feelings.”
“God forbid.”
Cain scowled. “You sound like Amice.” When he said her name, a wave of sheer agony wrapped around his heart.
“Wise woman. But she too guards herself. You are a pair.”
“What do you mean?”
Piers shrugged. “’Tis obvious. She shields her emotions just as you do. ‘Twould be quite interesting if you both let down your guard.”
“Amice is gone. Probably halfway to Italy by now.”
“I see. Sounds like a nice place. Mayhap one day I shall pay her a visit.”
Cain’s scowl deepened.
“A man who follows his heart follows a sage, but a man who follows his head follows a fool.” Piers gave him a discerning look and left.
As Cain unrolled the parchment, he could not help but wonder over Piers’s words. Had he become a man who believed himself better than others? His life a quest to prove his value? Was there nothing else?
He shoved the questions aside and concentrated on making out Laila’s spidery handwriting.
To the Earl of Hawksdown,
It is not my place to write this letter to you but I feel I must. No, I feel it is part of fate that I do so. Amice is the child of my heart. Above all things, I wish for her happiness. I had hoped she would find it without my aid, but I see that is not to be so.
Her destiny does not lie in Italy. It lies with you as yours lies with her. You are true heartmates and have been together through many lifetimes.
Come for her now. Do not let your fears and ambitions blind you. She loves you as you love her. Move beyond the past and forge a new future.
Come for her.
Laila.
Cain stared at the letter until the words blurred. He saw the rest of his life stretched out before him. Empty. Lonely. Devoid of warmth, of joy. Without Amice.
Could he take the risk?
Could he bare his heart to her?
Could he afford not to?
A glimmer of movement slowly took shape before him, and separated into two distinct forms, though they stood so close together with hands entwined that they almost seemed one. Cain buried his face in his hands. “I thought I was rid of you two.”
Muriel laughed softly.
“You are,” Gerard said. “Muriel, behave yourself.”
The two ghosts stared at him.
“What do you want?” Cain asked.
“Now that I… understand, I have changed my mind about you,” Muriel said, her image becoming brighter.
“Oh?”
“Do not waste your life, Cain. Go to her! Tell her what lies in your heart. Beg and plead, if need be. But do not let her go!”
“I—” Cain’s protest died in his throat.
“Go after her, lad,” Gerard urged. “Do not let the time slip away until you are an old, lonely man full of regrets.”
Muriel stroked his shoulder.
Well, hell. They were right. As was everyone.
He would have to go after Amice.
He nodded and the spirits disappeared.
And for the first time in five years, his heart felt light and free.
“I am leaving,” Cain said.
“What?” Piers asked, his usually blithe expression frozen.
Cain grinned. “I am doing what Gifford and you have been badgering me to do for days. I am going after her.”
“But, how can you? I mean, who will manage Falcon’s Craig? When will you return?”
“I do not know.” Cain leveled him a look.
“What?” Piers looked so panicked Cain had to thrust down the urge to laugh.
“’Tis yours.”
“Nay.”
“Aye. I am giving it up.” Cain felt the absurd urge to throw up his hands and dance.
“Cain.” Piers’s voice was so sober Cain’s euphoria vanished.
“You can handle it.”
“It is not my place.”
“Do not be ridiculous. You happened to be born a younger son, but you are fully capable. You shall be fine.”
“Cain.” Something in Piers’s voice stopped him, and Cain looked at his brother, really looked at him. “I know,” Piers said.
“No, you do not know. You have always… well, you have suffered from having me as the eldest. You can handle things as well, if not better than I.”
“No, Cain, I mean I know.”
Cain saw the truth in his brother’s yes. His brother. None of Ismena’s failings would change that. He put his arms around Piers and clasped him close. “You. Are. My. Brother. Nothing and no one shall ever change that. Not our… mother, not Morganna, not anyone. You are my brother.” Cain’s voice broke. “And no one shall ever say otherwise.”
“Dear God, Cain,” Piers whispered. “You have found your heart.”
When Cain released Piers, he found both their eyes were damp. “Do this for me, Piers. Please. I need to go.”
“Go then,” Piers said, his voice cracking. “I would be proud to take over.” He winked. “After all, I have Gifford to aid me.”
“Oh, no,” Cain groaned, and then grinned. “Enjoy yourselves.”
“We shall.”
Amice adjusted Belle’s saddle and checked the girth. Ever since her fall, she checked her mount herself. Rand helped her up into the saddle. They were in the bailey surrounded by people, horses, pack animals, and carts.
“’Tis very exciting,” Laila commented from the horse next to hers.
“Aye.” Amice looked around at the chaos and smiled. “I can scarcely believe we are going. Just think of all the wonderful things we will see!” They were to journey by land to t
he port at Dover, cross the English Channel by boat, then through France to board a ship at the port of Marseilles for their voyage to Italy.
“Are you ready, Lady Amice?” Guy called over. His eyes were bright, his mail gleaming in the sunlight. A group of twenty men accompanied them, with double that number of donkeys, packhorses, and carts to carry their belongings.
Amice took a last look at Wareham. She would probably never see it again. A ribbon of sadness wound through her, but she pushed it back. Today, she began a new life. “Aye.”
They rode out of the gatehouse to the cheers of the castle people. Rand stood by the gatehouse and waved a solemn goodbye.
But as Amice rode outside the castle walls, she saw horses in the distance. She halted Belle and pointed. “Guy, do you see that?”
He moved his mount closer to hers and drew his sword. “Aye.”
“Who is it?”
“I cannot make out the banner.” Guy squinted his eyes and peered at the approaching riders.
“’Tis the Earl of Hawksdown,” Laila said.
Amice’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“She is right,” Guy added. “I can see the banner now. Azure with an argent lion courant and a single star.”
“But… why is he here?” Amice asked, half to herself. The riders drew closer, and she could see Cain at the forefront. Her heart clenched and she tightened her hold on the reins. Belle sidestepped, bumping into Laila’s horse.
Laila lifted a brow. “I doubt it is to pay your brother a visit.”
Amice shook her head in bewilderment. “I do not understand.”
Laila just smiled.
Cain pounded to a halt before them, his destrier’s coat slick with sweat. “Amice.”
A tiny flicker of hope awakened in her chest. “Why are you here? We are leaving to journey to Italy, as you can see.”
He moved his mount closer. His eyes were a deeper blue than Amice had ever seen, and his features were drawn into harsh planes and angles. “I need to talk with you. In private.”
“I—”
“Grant me that, Amice. Please.”
How could she refuse? It would be the last time. “Very well. Guy?”
“As you wish, my lady.” He called an order to his men and they returned inside the castle walls.
As Cain’s guards dismounted and streamed into the hall, Cain jumped down from his own mount and held out his hand to her. For a moment, Amice stared down at him. So many questions pounded against fear and hope that she was not sure what to do.
“Take my hand, Amice.”
She slowly reached out and he took her hand, then lifted her by the waist from her horse, bracing her against his body. Amice’s breath hitched and her stomach flipped over.
“Where may we talk?” he asked.
“The garden, I suppose.” She turned and walked across the bailey. Cain strode beside her in silence. When they finally entered the walled garden, Amice paused and buried her hands in the folds of her mantle. She gazed up at Cain and waited.
His throat worked and he said, “Do not leave for Italy today.”
“Why not?”
His gaze glittered with fire. “Because I want you to stay with me.”
Amice ached with such pain she could barely find the breath to speak. “We have already discussed this, Cain. You do not owe me anything. I release you from any sense of responsibility you have created for me in your mind.”
Cain closed his eyes briefly, as if he were in pain. “It is not that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I have been wrong, Amice. In so many things. I hardly know where to start.” He fixed her with a steady gaze. “But know that what I feel for you has naught to do with duty.”
Amice bit her lip. God, she was afraid. What was he saying?
“Marry me.” Cain took her hands. “I shall take you to Italy myself as a wedding gift.”
He said nothing of love. Amice’s heart twisted and gut-wrenching pain pooled in her belly. “Why do you torture me like this?” she cried. “Does it satisfy you in some perverse way to expose how desperately I want you?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I love you, dammit! I have always loved you. So much that it scares me. Now, do you see?”
Amice opened her eyes wide. Feelings swelled within her so strong she was surprised the very air did not whirl with them. “What did you say?”
Cain’s gaze was stark. “I said I love you. Too much.”
“Why does it scare you?” She knew, but she wanted to hear it from him. She knew because the strength of her love for him terrified her.
“Because it makes me vulnerable. Utterly, pathetically defenseless.” He put out his hands, palms up. “I can wield a sword with no small skill. I can manage Falcon’s Craig and protect my people.” He gazed at her in naked desperation.
“Cain.”
“But I cannot survive you not wanting me.”
She squeezed his hands. “I will always want you.”
“Most of all because I am afraid I will fail,” he whispered. “That I will not be enough of a man to hold you.”
“You shall always hold me. Do you not understand, still?” Tears trickled out of her eyes, and Amice let them fall. Her last shield crumbled, and she gazed up at Cain without hiding her feelings.
Cain stared at her, his gaze raw.
Amice gulped and took a deep breath. “I have loved you more in a heartbeat than anyone could in a lifetime. I could never love another man the way I love you.”
Tears appeared in Cain’s eyes. “Truly?”
“You are my heartmate. I knew from the first. And you have owned my heart ever since. You have the power to grant me the greatest joy, or deliver me into the deepest misery. And yes, that scares me too.”
His mouth twisted. “Be with me always, love. I am empty if I cannot be with you.”
She smiled as joy flooded her heart. “Yes.”
Cain bent and kissed her, capturing her lips in a soft, then hungry kiss. He braced her head with one hand, and she clung to his shoulders. Amice felt her tears fall, but she did not care. The only thing she cared about was this man who had enslaved her from the beginning.
“I shall never let you go,” he rasped into her ear. “Never. And I shall love you until the end of time.”
“As I shall love you.”
Epilogue
The Italian Coast
Cain sat on the sunny beach and grinned at his wife. His wife. It still seemed like a dream. One he had dreamt so many times, but never truly thought to live. Down the beach a bit, Olive frolicked in the calm, turquoise water.
“Be careful, husband. You look relaxed. Even happy.” Amice slid her hand into his.
“I am happy.” He stroked a fingertip down Amice’s cheek, and her toes curled into the sand. “Deliriously happy.” He waved a hand at the lush hills surrounding the beach, the clear blue water. “I am in paradise with the woman I love.”
“Mmm. Do you not worry about Falcon’s Craig?”
“Nay. I received a letter from Piers.” Cain quirked a grin. “Though he complains, it is clear he is managing.”
“I still cannot believe you turned Falcon’s Craig over to Piers.”
“It no longer seemed important.”
Tears clouded her vision, and Cain wrapped his fingers around hers. “I never thought I would be this happy again,” Amice whispered.
“You shall always be this happy, if there is aught I can do to make it so.”
“Just be with me.”
“Always,” he promised, squeezing her hand.
“Always,” Amice said, and placed her other atop his.
And somewhere, in a far away eternity, Gerard and Muriel smiled.
Dance of Desire
Catherine Kean
Desperate to save her brother Rudd from being condemned as a traitor, Lady Rexana Villeaux must dance in disguise at a feast for the High Sheriff of Warringham. Her goal is to distract hi
m so her servant can steal a damning missive from the sheriff’s solar. Dressed in the gauzy costume of a desert courtesan, dancing with all the passion and sensuality in her soul, she succeeds in her mission. And, at the same time, condemns herself.
Fane Linford, the banished son of an English earl, joined King Richard’s crusade only to find himself a captive in a hellish eastern prison. He survived the years of torment, it’s rumored, because of the love of a Saracen courtesan. The rumors are true. And when he sees Rexana dance…
Richard has promised Fane an English bride, yet he desires only one woman - the exotic dancer who tempted him. Then he discovers the dancer’s identity. And learns her brother is in his dungeon, accused of plotting against the throne. It is more temptation than Fane can resist.
The last thing Rexana wants is marriage to the dark and brooding Sheriff of Warringham. But her brother is his prisoner, and there may be only one way to save him. Taking the greatest chance of her life, Rexana becomes the sheriff’s bride. And learns that the Dance of Desire was only a beginning…
ISBN# 1 -932815-35-X • Sapphire Imprint •
Historical Romance • March 2005
Knight’s Legacy
Trenae Sumter
On location in Scotland for a film shoot, stuntwoman Cat Terril is waiting to film an action scene when she takes a stroll through the ancient castle that is their set.
Then she meets an old man in black robes who gives her a set of keys and directs her to…
“Follow your heart…”
Thinking it is a harmless prank designed by fellow stuntmen, Cat follows the old man’s direction to a locked door around which swirls a strange, lavender mist.
Using the set of keys, she opens the door, steps into the mist and falls, literally, into a frigid lake in thirteenth century Scotland.
There was no ‘harmless prank’ involved. Cat is in desperate peril, finding herself suddenly the hostage of vicious, brutal clan leader, Calum Mackay. To obtain clemency from the Scottish king, the renegade Mackay must give his daughter, Brianna, to Englishman Roderic de Montwain in marriage. Brianna, however, in love with another, has run away. And Cat bears a striking resemblance to Mackay’s absent daughter.
