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There Your Heart Will Be Also

Page 18

by Felicia Rogers


  “Where is he?”

  “Where’s who?”

  “The priest. He’s gone.” Eyes narrowed, he scratched his head. “Now we’ll have to go back to London and marry. We can make it a grand affair. We will be the talk of the town. Can you imagine the rumors? The scandal! They will think I was your pick all along. But that’s all right with me.”

  The strange glint in Wilt’s eyes scared Sarra and she started to back away from him. Wilt didn’t follow. Rather, he continued to pace the yard in front of the church. So absorbed in his pontificating about his marriage he failed to see the danger before him. Sarra’s mouth opened to shout the warning but it was too late. The adder which had spooked the horse moments before had come out from beneath the bush. Wilt stepped on the snake, it struck.

  He looked down at his leg, watching the snake dangle there by its teeth. Shock filled his eyes. As the snake let go and slithered back into the woods, he glanced up at Sarra. Shaking her head, she backed away.

  Wilt collapsed to the ground. With an outstretched hand, he cried, “Help me. My leg, it hurts. I can’t see. Everything is blurry.”

  A hand appeared on her shoulder, causing her to jump and scream at the same time.

  “Sarra?”

  She swiveled around only to come face-to-face with a concerned Cedric. Weeping, she fell into his open arms. His fingers worked quickly to remove the ropes which held her.

  “What’s happening to him?”

  She peered behind Cedric. It appeared he wasn’t alone. Duncan leaned casually against a tree and used a dagger to pick his teeth. Looking at no one in particular he said, “That was quick. Must have got a good hold on ‘im.”

  Wilt lay on one side and retched. He tried to push himself up off the ground but was apparently too weak. “What is this stabbing pain in my leg? Please, tell me what has befallen me?”

  Duncan shrugged. “I guess he might deserve to know what has killed him this day. Boyd, why don’t ye explain?”

  Boyd walked over and leaned in close. Wilt’s lips were blue as he struggled to breathe. He held fast to his groin and rolled from side to side. Sarra cringed as Boyd put his foot on the snake bite, holding Wilt in place. He ground the toe of his boot into the fresh wound, causing Wilt to writhe and moan in agony. “This death is no more than ye deserve, ye low life, bottom-feedin’, scum-suckin’…”

  Duncan interrupted Boyd’s tirade. “Ye will have to forgive Boyd. He tends to get worked up and carry on.”

  Boyd removed his foot and stepped back from Wilt’s prostrate form while Duncan began to explain to about his situation. “Ye see, ye just stepped on an adder.”

  “An adder?” struggled Wilt to respond.

  “Aye, an adder. It is the only deadly snake in all of Scotland, and it seems it has traveled into England just to pay ye a little visit. The way I see it, ye just have a couple of minutes left to live. Now let me think this through. Ye have already had the pain in yer privates, and then ye did the retching, right Boyd?”

  “Right,” responded Boyd.

  “And ye are struggling to breathe. Those are all good signs ye are not long for this world.”

  “Help me,” Wilt choked out.

  Laughing loudly, Duncan answered, “And what would ye have us do? Suck out the poison which has been in yer veins since birth but has just now decided to kill ye? Last I checked, I wasn’t God.”

  “Take me to London. Someone there can help me.”

  “Ye are truly an amusing man. Do ye not think so Boyd?”

  “Aye, truly amusing.”

  “Downright hilarious is what I say. He thinks he can live long enough to make it to London. Sorry boy, but ye are already done for.”

  Cedric took Sarra’s hand and led her back toward the horses. She could hear Wilt’s agonized screams all the way back to the road.

  Tears poured down her cheeks. How could she leave anyone in this condition?

  “Cedric?”

  He shook his head.

  “Is there nothing we can do? I can’t just—”

  “There is nothing to be done. He is dead.”

  “But—”

  “Ye get on the horse and I’ll go back to check on him. All right?”

  “Aye.”

  Sarra sat astride Cedric’s horse, her gaze focused on the chapel. Through the thick leaves nothing was visible. After a few moments, Duncan and the others led by Cedric came through the trees without Wilt. Cedric’s frown said everything she needed to know. Wilt was already gone.

  Lifting her head heavenward, Sarra prayed. Thank you Lord for your protection. Be with Wilt’s family. Amen.

  When she gazed back down, Cedric was staring at her. “Are ye all right lass?”

  “Aye. I am.”

  “Scoot forward.” Cedric gave time to comply before swinging himself up into the saddle. With her back settled against his chest, a sigh of contentment escaped.

  Sarra had almost forgotten Cedric was marrying Charism. For a moment she even allowed herself to forget Cedric didn’t know the truth.

  But when she saw Sir Henry and his brooding face, all the lies rushed back. Sarra couldn’t let Cedric marry Charism. What was she going to do? Tell the truth and risk him marrying her for the land. Or even worse, what if she told him the truth and he left forever?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The keep was abuzz with the news of Wilt’s death even before they reached the gate. Sarra’s body was tense with nerves. The time for truth was near. Charism cornered her as soon as her feet hit the ground.

  “Come with me, maid Sarra.”

  Sarra knew better than to argue. Without a word, she followed Charism, leaving a staring Cedric behind. Once the two of them were away from prying eyes, Charism started talking.

  “Ye will tell the lad the truth. I’m not marryin’ that boy. I’ve done everything for ye from changing yer diapers to pampering ye when ye had the fever, but this I won’t do. I refuse.”

  The old woman stood in front of her, arms crossed in a stance of defiance. Sarra couldn’t help but smile. Charism was like a mother. Besides, she knew Charism was right. She needed to tell Cedric the truth. But how?

  While she struggled with how to reveal her true identity, the choice was taken from her.

  A man entered the gates of the keep, stood in the open court yard, and shouted, “Mistress Sarra of Greenbriar, I bring an urgent message.”

  Sarra forgot all the pretenses she’d built and raced to the messenger. At her approach, he held out his hand. In his hand rested a wrinkled and stained piece of parchment. It was rolled tightly and contained the royal crest.

  Sarra opened the missive and skimmed the lines. The letter was nothing more than a letter from the King inquiring as to her wedding plans. A pent-up breath released but when her eyes rose from the paper, she spotted Cedric staring at her.

  His look of anger was enough to send a more fragile person running away to hide.

  “Thank you. Please come inside and accept my hospitality after your long journey.”

  The messenger bowed and headed for the keep doors.

  Taking a deep breath, Sarra searched for Cedric, but he had already disappeared. On one foot, Sarra went around in a complete circle but Cedric was nowhere to be found. Where had he gone so quickly?

  Gnawing her lip, Sarra was startled by a horse. The beast and its rider flew past her and out of the keep’s gates.

  “Cedric!” yelled Sarra at his retreating form.

  There was no time to lose. Throwing the missive upon the ground and gathering her skirts in her hands, Sarra ran to the stables. The first horse she came to was Daemon. This was the one horse no one dared to ride because of his temperament, but he was said to be one of the fastest horses between London and the Scottish border.

  Sarra saddled Daemon, patting him in a soothing motion. She slid one foot in one stirrup, then hoisted herself up and over. Daemon whinnied but allowed her to seat herself in the saddle. With his hoof pawing the ground, he
snorted. When his head rose, he sniffed the air and took off. She struggled to keep a hold on the reins and keep her bottom in the saddle as she rode past stunned onlookers.

  Once out of the gates, Sarra gave Daemon his head. The speed of his gallop threatened to unseat her from her precarious perch. Struggling to maintain control, she scanned the hillsides for any sign of Cedric. Fortunately for her, Cedric’s horse had slowed to a canter and Sarra was quickly catching up.

  “Cedric!” she called out.

  He turned to glare in her direction. At first, she feared he would urge his horse to go faster but instead he pulled back on the reins and pulled his animal to a halt. When the horse came to a complete stop, he threw himself down to the ground and stalked off, leaving the animal free to graze.

  Sarra slowed. When Daemon came alongside the other horse, he stopped suddenly and she came within a hair of being flung over his head and onto the ground. Grasping the reins and holding on, she gulped. Once she gathered her wits, she slid off the animal, gathered her skirts and rushed after Cedric.

  “Cedric, please wait. I can explain.”

  She could hear his laugh of derision from where she stood. “Ye can?”

  They had stopped close to the pond. Cedric plopped down on a rock and stared out across the rippling water. The hunch in his shoulders showed his hurt. Sarra reached out toward him, but she immediately pulled back. The last thing he would want right now would be her touch.

  Hands held behind her back, she stood and waited. Should she go ahead and try to explain or wait until he asked? She no longer knew the right thing to do.

  “Where ye going to just stand by and let me marry Charism? Who is Charism anyway?”

  The words stuck in her throat. Struggling to regain her composure, she said, “Charism is my friend.”

  “Aye, a friend. And are ye a friend to her? If so I would hate to see yer enemies.”

  She winced. This wasn’t going well. “Charism is like family to me. If I had to give her an actual title it would be the village doctor or healer. She takes care of the village’s sick and afflicted.”

  “Aye. Like ye were sick and afflicted with unwanted pursuers?”

  Throwing her hands in the air with exasperation, she allowed her own anger to surface. She tried again. “Cedric, I realize you’re angry. And part of me can understand. But you have to understand my point of view as well. This is my land. My home. The King is sending people to wed me who care nothing for me or my people. In my effort to protect myself, I admit I may have gone a tad too far. You see you are the only man to ever stay after discovering Charism was the mistress. Imagine my surprise when you asked her hand in marriage! I think I was more shocked than anyone. You were supposed to run away in disgust. But you didn’t. And well, by then I already sort of liked you.”

  A sudden feeling of shyness overcame her, and she glanced away from Cedric. “In the beginning, I found myself hoping you weren’t from the King. Maybe, just maybe, you were a stranger here to find your way. Perhaps seeking a treasure, the treasure of love. But I was wrong. You were the same as all the rest. You were ready to sacrifice any amount of personal happiness to gain my family land.”

  “Nay, that’s not true—”

  “Isn’t it? When you thought Charism was the mistress you didn’t hesitate to ask her hand in marriage. You only came to rescue me because you thought it would make Charism like you more. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Cedric’s downcast expression told her she’d hit upon the truth.

  “It’s all right, Cedric. I understand. It was what happened to you with your own family that caused this. Land has always been important to you.”

  Cedric’s head jerked up and around. He stared at her with a burning curiosity. He must have thought the night in the cave when he told about his mother and father she wasn’t paying attention. At first she had thought the long story told in the cave was a dream. But after much thought she’d realized it was about Cedric all along. It hadn’t taken much to realize the story was his history.

  Instead of mentioning the night in question, he asked, “Is land not important to ye?”

  “Of course. But insofar as all the people living upon it are protected. I care about them much more than the actual ground.”

  Cedric shrugged his shoulders before looking back across the water. The boat was tied to the shore, bobbing in the water. His forlorn expression tore at her heart.

  Turning back to her, Cedric asked, “Where do we go from here?”

  She didn’t know what to say. Where did they go from here? Their relationship was based on nothing but falsehoods. She had a faith she wasn’t sure he carried. With a prayer upon her heart, she said, “We start at the beginning.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “Hurry, he’s coming,” said Sarra.

  “Lady Sarra, ye need not worry. Ye look beautiful.”

  “Oh, Ella, thank you. But I want to make a good impression. This is our official courtship.” Sarra stared at herself one last time, placing a stray hair back in place.

  “Aye. I know. Ye have talked of nothing else for days, mistress.”

  “Have I been talking about it so much?”

  “Aye. Ye have,” said a smiling Charism as she walked through Sarra’s bedroom door.

  “How do I look?” Sarra asked as she did a full spin in the middle of the room.

  Charism eyed her as the gown of yellow flared out around her. “Ye look like a spring chick.”

  “What?”

  “A cute animal to be sure.”

  “I look like a baby chicken? I don’t know how I’m supposed to take such a comment.”

  Charism and Ella shook their heads and giggled together. Sarra was ready to throw something at them when she heard a knock on her door.

  “Mistress. He has arrived.”

  “Oh!”

  “Now don’t ye run to the door and look overly anxious—“

  Sarra heard Charism’s voice as she raced to the front door of the keep. Happiness gave her a feeling of floating on air. When she reached the door and flung it backwards to look outside, heat rushed to her cheeks and her palms started to sweat.

  “Cedric?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Sorry to disappoint ye lass, but Cedric sent me to ye instead.”

  Duncan stood upon the doorstep, a bouquet of wilted flowers in his hand. Sarra frowned in confusion. Why was Duncan upon the doorstep and not Cedric? Had he changed his mind about their courtship already?

  Straightening her spine and pushing the hair back from her face, Sarra asked, “Where is Cedric?”

  Duncan appeared embarrassed and scratched his head.

  “Well?”

  “Well, I ain’t supposed to tell ye. I’m just supposed to deliver ye.”

  “Very well,” Sarra said, as she stepped over her threshold and closed the door behind her. “I do hope this won’t take long.”

  “Impatient are ye?” Duncan said with a mischievous glint.

  “Humph.”

  Duncan laughed heartily and took Sarra’s hand. He led her to the garden. The flowers were in full bloom, dotting the landscape and bringing the area alive with color. Summer was truly here. The promise of a new year lay ahead. The smile on Sarra’s face was from genuine pleasure at the blessings of life.

  When she glanced back up, shock registered on her face. Duncan was gone and she was being studied just as intensely as she’d been studying the plants.

  “Hullo.”

  “Hullo,” Sarra answered in return.

  “It’s nice to meet ye. I’m Cedric MacNeil. I’m visiting yer village.”

  Her eyes widened. When she’d said they could start over, she hadn’t expected Cedric to literally take them back to the beginning. But since he had, she decided to play along. “Welcome. I’m Sarra of Greenbriar. The mistress of this keep. Are you enjoying your stay?”

  “Aye. I am. The people are friendly. The food is good. The land is fertile. And the mistress is fair to
look upon.”

  Sarra blushed in spite of herself. Clearing her throat, “And what brings you to Greenbriar, Cedric?”

  “Aye, I’m in search of something,” he said, studying her face.

  “And what might it be?”

  “I’m in search of a treasure.” His hand rose, taking a strand of her hair and lifting it to his face.

  “A treasure? Like gold or silver?” she said, holding her breath.

  “Nay. It is a different kind of treasure. It’s not something ye can touch. Ye can’t even see it. This treasure is in one spot.”

  “What spot?”

  As they spoke, they moved closer to one another. The distance separating them now spanned mere inches. Their breath mingled as Cedric answered, “The heart.”

  Looking down into her eyes, his grin was broad. She couldn’t help it. With a wicked look she said, “My heart? It sounds kind of revolting.”

  Cedric’s head tipped back and he roared with laughter. When he peered back down he placed his hands upon her upper arms, pulled her in close to him, and bent down to kiss her.

  She didn’t move. To move might break the spell. His lips grazed across hers, sending tingles down her spine. He pulled back and she shivered within his embrace. Without further thought, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him back down to her, urging him to kiss her more thoroughly.

  When they stopped to breathe, he said, “Ye are mighty forward for our first meetin’. I hope ye don’t greet all yer visitors this way.”

  The sound of Sarra slapping Cedric on the arm sent him into fits of laughter once again. Ready to pounce on him for his comment, she spotted Duncan and the others watching them.

  Shame immediately filled her for the behavior she was exhibiting. Heat infused her cheeks and she wanted to run back to the keep and hide herself away, but Cedric stopped her.

  “Where are ye goin’?”

  “I’m going to hide.”

  “Don’t mind them,” Cedric said, shooting the men a look which suggested they flee their position. When they left, he glanced back down at her. “See? They’re gone.”

  Sarra’s placed her fingers against his chest. His heartbeat thudded heavily beneath the thin fabric. Splaying her hand wide, she absorbed the warmth from his body. Before there was time to change her mind, she said, “I love you.”

 

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