Moonstone

by Olivia Stocum

  “I am sorry to hear that. Is there aught I can do for you?”

  You could die.

  He let go of her arm and Rhiannon rubbed the ache in her elbow. Geoffrey placed a finger under her chin and lifted it.

  “Soon, my dove.” His face lowered to hers. “We will be together. Just the way you like it.”

  She fought back her gag reflex.

  “That’s enough,” William said, pushing between them.

  Guards swarmed like shadows. Swords zipped from sheaths and gleamed in sunlight. William urged Rhiannon behind him. Reaching back, he found her fingers and closed his hand around hers. She peered at Geoffrey from over his shoulder.

  “She is still under my protection,” William said.

  Geoffrey’s gaze flicked from between them. He smiled, as if pleased.

  Smiled?

  “Aye, I can see that. Did you forget our agreement?”

  “I havena touched her.” William’s fingers tightened on hers.

  Geoffrey sniffed. “I am not so sure of that. Are there not enough women at my hall? Have my wenches not offered you their comfort this last fortnight? Or did you decide women were to your taste, after all?”

  Rhiannon couldn’t understand why Geoffrey continually goaded William. What did the lion have against the spider anyway?

  “Why do we not get down to business,” William said. “We can resolve this right now, like men.” His voice was low, calm but laced with power. “Or, you could take the coward’s way, and let your guards cut me down.”

  Geoffrey hesitated, then waved his guards off. “I will meet you in the lists tomorrow morning, at first light.”

  Nodding, William backed away with Rhiannon. Connor fell in line with Alice. No one followed them as they went back into the hall.

  “He’s planning something,” Rhiannon said.

  “I noticed.”

  “It is my fault.”

  “He has hated me for years and was just looking for an excuse.”

  They made their way up the stairs and to her chamber. William strode across the floor, half-dragging her along behind him, his grip too tight.

  “Please stop. You’re hurting me.”

  He halted, letting go of her hand. With an irritated sigh, he turned to face Connor.

  Alice ran to Rhiannon’s side and wrapped her arms around her. She was shaking.

  Rhiannon couldn’t take it anymore. Everything about Geoffrey made her skin crawl. She wanted to be as far away from him as any person could.

  She needed to spare Alice too.

  “We need to leave,” Rhiannon said, loud enough for William to hear.

  He turned from Connor. “I know. But I have to deal with Geoffrey first.”

  “Will he really duel you, or just have you killed?”

  “I’m not sure what he plans to do.” William sounded calm, but she had the impression it was done with effort.

  Alice tucked herself closer, and Rhiannon’s heart ached. Alice was only sixteen, four years younger than her. They had been together since Alice’s birth, Alice’s family having served Rhiannon’s for four generations. Alice left behind her father and two older brothers at Hanover, swearing that she would never leave Rhiannon’s side.

  For Alice’s sake, Rhiannon had to convince William to run. “If he has you killed, then I will have to marry him,” she said.

  William winced. She knew that would give him pause. He wanted her. She didn’t like it. But she would use it to her advantage.

  “Get some rest. The both of you.” He turned away.

  “That’s it? Get some rest? William!” Her voice echoed off the stone walls.

  He turned to face her again, the tightness in his face replaced now with surprise. Rhiannon realized she had not only spoken to him in the familiar, but had practically yelled his name.

  “My laird,” she corrected staunchly.

  “Och, nay, no taking it back.”

  Alice slipped out from under Rhiannon’s arm, going to Connor instead. Confused, Rhiannon lowered her arms to her sides, listening as Connor spoke to Alice in soft tones. She felt chilled and alone.

  “What will you do?” Rhiannon asked, her throat tight.

  “Whatever it takes.”

  “I want to flee. Will you give me that?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, then motioned for Connor to step into the corridor with him. They closed the door so that she and Alice couldn’t hear.

  Chapter Six

  Three days ago, if anyone had told William that he would marry a lass he’d just met, and flee with her in the middle of the night, he would have laughed.

  But that’s exactly what he planned to do.

  After he made a few arraignments.

  “I need to speak with you,” William said, finding Rhiannon’s cousin, Reginald, at his cups in the great hall.

  “Why would I speak to you anytime before your duel?” Reginald asked from over the rim of his mug.

  “Because I think you want to hear what I have to say today.”

  Reginald pulled out an embroidered handkerchief and fluttered it before his face. “Why is it that all Highlanders reek of fish and sheep?”

  William clenched his jaw and reminded himself that it would not be a good idea to bash the man’s nose into the tabletop.

  “You may speak.” Reginald waved his handkerchief.

  “Not here.” William forced his voice and his face to remain neutral. “Meet me on the battlements, west wing, after the evening meal.”

  Reginald flicked invisible dust from his doublet. The man dressed with affluence, whilst Rhiannon had one gown to her name.

  “If you wish,” Reginald said, dismissing him with a regal nod.

  William made his way back to Rhiannon’s chamber, quickly, before he lost his temper. He nodded to Connor as he opened her door.

  “She sleeps,” Connor said.

  “Good. She willna tonight.”

  She might, if she were able to sleep on a horse. Not many people could. William scratched at the two days worth of beard coating his jaw. “Have you warned the men?”

  “They are ready.” Connor glanced at Alice, who was sitting in a chair by the window. She held a needle in one hand and Rhiannon’s excuse for a gown in the other. Circles had formed under her eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day when you would run,” he said. “But I understand. And I willna argue, because I agree with you.”

  “Thank you.”

  William crossed the chamber to check on Rhiannon. She was on her back, her hair spilling over the pillow like an upset flagon of red wine. One arm, dressed in ivory linen, dangled over the edge of the bed. The other was flung over her head. With care, he tucked her loose arm back in with her. She sniffed. And then her arm came back out to dangle right where it was before. William smiled.

  Her chemise had slipped off one shoulder, revealing soft skin smattered with tawny freckles. It was hard to resist. He wanted to trace the subtle patterns in her spots with the tips of his fingers.

  William lifted a chair and brought it to her side. Then he unbuckled his sword harness and set it propped against the bed.

  He worked the stiffness out of his shoulder while he watched her sleep. After a time, shadows lengthened across the room. Alice banked the fire.

  Rhiannon opened her eyes, then startled when she saw him.

  “Shh.” He caught up her hand in his before he’d thought about it. She looked at his fingers over hers, then eased them away. “How is your arm?” he asked.

  “Sore.” She pulled the blanket up to hide her chemise.

  Her lip was looking swollen, and a little bruised, but it could have been worse. “What did you decide?” she asked.

  She wouldn’t like it, since it involved marriage, so he decided she didn’t need to know yet. “I’m getting you out of here tonight.”

  “Then we will flee?” Hope sparked in her eyes.

  “Is that really what you want?”

  “It’s best for Alic
e, and for me, and it is best for you.”

  “How is it best for me?”

  “You will want to fight fair. Geoffrey will not. He will scheme against you, as he did my father.” She cleared her throat. “My father said that he had everything under control, but he did not, and now he is dead.”

  “And you dinna want me to be dead as well.”

  Rhiannon looked away. “Do not flatter yourself.”

  “I wouldna dream of it, my lady.” William smiled at her for a moment, then stood and put on his sword harness. “I have to attend to something. Be ready to leave when I return.” He hesitated, then took her hand, running his thumb along the inside of her wrist. Her fingers twitched against his as he pulled away.

  He nodded to Connor at the door, then made his way down the corridor, up the stairs, and onto the castle walls. The moon was high and full, pouring pale white light over the grounds. Reginald was waiting, his gaze focused over the horizon. William slipped in next to him.

  Reginald jumped.

  “Easy.” William lifted a hand. “I have a proposition for you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What sort of proposition?”

  William propped his shoulder against the stone embedment. “The lassie’s dowry.”

  “What about it?”

  “What if you got to keep it?”

  William looked over the village below, lit with torches and bonfires. Rhiannon had said that Reginald tried starving her in hopes she would fall ill, so that he could keep her dowry. If she was right, then Reginald would be more than happy to agree to this.

  “I meant to be true to my alliance with Geoffrey,” William said. “But the lassie is a siren.” William watched Reginald out of the corner of his eye.

  The man smiled.

  William tapped into the very real need Rhiannon elicited in him. “I must have her.” He hesitated, then added, “Tonight.” It was more than physical desire. Whatever she was doing to him went beyond the surface. But he wouldn’t let Reginald know that.

  “If I agree to this arraignment, it will cost you.”

  “Would her dowry assuage you?”

  He smiled as if it had been his idea from the start. “She will not like this,” Reginald said. “You may have to bribe the minister. With your own money, mind you.”

  “I will, if it comes to it.” It wouldn’t. He hoped.

  Reginald laughed. “It will come to it. She will not agree.”

  “Let’s say I am not without my skills.”

  Reginald shook his head. “Very well, but on one condition.” He looked William up and down. “You protect me. I want safe passage off Geoffrey’s lands.”

  Reginald’s attitude reminded William of the two years he’d spent as a mercenary. Men of all types were more than happy to hire him for his sword, but at the end of the day, they wouldn’t sup at the same table with him.

  “Agreed,” he said finally. “I will meet you at the Kirk with the lass.” William left Reginald.

  “The cloaks you asked for are within,” Connor said at Rhiannon’s chamber door.

  Inside, Rhiannon was sitting in a chair, her head down, and her hair hanging loose around her. She was in her green gown again and she held her silver hairbrush in her hands. It must have been her last possession. No wonder she guarded it so closely.

  She looked up as he neared.

  William came down on his knees, leather creaking. He took a deep breath to prepare himself. “We are leaving.”

  “I gathered.” A lock of dark red hair was hanging over one of her eyes. “Did you do it?” Her voice was monotone.

  “Do?” He’d said nothing about his plans to her, and Connor knew better than to tell Alice without his permission.

  “Did you kill Geoffrey and Reginald?”

  His fingers twitched. “I’ve wanted to.”

  Her eyes widened. “You really would have done that for me?”

  “I am sorely tempted.”

  “William . . .” Her mouth moved in a whisper. Then she pulled straight in her chair and her eyes darkened.

  He had the feeling she was protecting her heart against him. But at least she trusted him enough to let him lead her.

  Maybe.

  “I bribed Reginald,” he said. “You were right. He is greedy. There isna much time. We need to move now.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “I traded your dowry for you.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Tonight. Now.”

  She stood, the chair tipping over backward.

  William rose to his feet. “You knew it would come soon. What difference does it make?” He tried to keep his voice calm.

  She listed and he caught her. “Leave us,” he said to Alice.

  The maid hesitated, then nodded. The door closed behind her.

  “Rhiannon.”

  She shook her head and pushed against his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go. He brushed her hair back from her pale face. She was shaking, and it drove spikes through him. “I know I told you I woulda force you into anything, but I have to get you away from him.”

  Her breath came fast. Too fast.

  “Rhiannon, look at me.”

  She turned her face away instead, so that all he saw was her hair and the tip of her nose.

  “I have no idea if Reginald can be trusted,” he said. “Geoffrey might release his entire garrison on us before we can escape. You wanted to flee. So let’s flee.”

  Her head snapped up. “I cannot. I cannot.” Her breath caught in her throat. She gagged and he thought she would retch all over his feet.

  “Alice,” he called.

  The wee lass came back into the chamber, her shoes sliding on the wooden floor.

  “Put on one of the cloaks, and take this.” He loosened Rhiannon’s brush from her hands.

  “Nay.” Rhiannon grabbed for it, but he handed it to Alice.

  “I have it, my lady,” Alice said, shoving it into a bag.

  William tucked a cloak around Rhiannon, pulled the hood over her head, and attached the toggle at her neck.

  “Alice,” he said. “Stay by Connor, and do as he tells you.”

  “Yes, my laird.”

  Empty laughter filtered up the stairwell and down the corridor. By now William’s men were in position, and most of Geoffrey’s men into their cups. Rhiannon stayed surprisingly close as they moved, her fingers twisted in his sleeve.

  Connor fell in line behind them, Alice clutching his hand as they made their way through the servants’ quarters and into the cool night air. Murky shadows danced behind torches and moonlight. William didn’t hear a sound from either woman until Rhiannon began to hiccup.

  He took her slender fingers and pulled her up beside him, under his arm. She shivered. From the cold or fear? It was hard to tell. But at least her hiccups stopped.

  William checked the Kirk for any sign of Geoffrey’s men. All he saw was Angus and Charlie as they shifted in the shadows. The horses would be hidden nearby. He motioned for Connor to follow. Charlie and Angus slipped out and fell into rank behind them. William was at a disadvantaged with Rhiannon tucked under his arm, so he motioned Angus to take point. The lad slid into position and they moved as one up the steps and into the sanctuary.

  Only a few candles were lit. He saw the minister at the dais, Angus having summoned him already. There was no sign of Reginald. If the minister felt it was justified, they could legally wed without Rhiannon’s guardian. Of course, that meant Rhiannon would have to look the minister in the eye and admit that she desired to be William’s wife.

  Which wasn’t likely to happen.

  The minister let his gaze slip. From behind a curtain emerged Reginald, followed by Geoffrey, who held him at dagger’s point.

  William drew his claymore. As the ring of metal filled the air, eight of Geoffrey’s men filed into the Kirk. Bare steel glinted in the candle-flicker as Connor, Angus, and Charlie were disarmed as fast as they could draw.

  William faced Geoffrey. Rhiannon was cl
ose, too close. He pushed her back, then felt her being wrenched away from him. One of Geoffrey’s men had her by the forearm. She cried out and William heard an audible crack.

  The man had broken her arm.

  Distracted, William dropped his guard. A studded mail glove clamped over his right shoulder, bit past leather armor, and sank teeth into the toughened scar tissue of his old sword wound.

  Pain.

  His vision tunneled, then blurred. William had developed an incredible tolerance for pain since his injury, but this was more than any man could bear. A second guard shoved him down to his knees. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Blood ran warm down his arm.

  His claymore hit the floor, echoing off stone.

  Geoffrey laughed. “Dinna insult me by asking how I knew. You really ought to stop rolling that shoulder of yours. It is a dead giveaway.”

  William heard Reginald’s frightened, labored breathing as Geoffrey prodded him closer.

  “How bad was it, when it happened? Did it almost kill you? Did you thank God they didna amputate?”

  The studded mail glove was released and William’s head began to clear. He gritted his teeth as he was pulled back to his feet by a fist in his hair. Another guard picked his sword off the floor and William found the tip of his own weapon at the middle of his back.

  He was patted down. Two knives, and his pistol were removed.

  “I have seen the way you look at her,” Geoffrey said. “But more to the point, I see the way she looks at you.”

  William glanced at Rhiannon. Her hood was pushed back and her hair tossed around her shoulders. She shook her head, but her eyes said, I’m so sorry.

  “When I saw Reginald exit the great hall tonight, I suspected. It didna take much to convince him to tell me everything. He is, in the end, a coward.” Geoffrey pressed his dagger against Reginald’s back. The man drew up stiff, his face blanched. “A little coercion and he spilled the whole tale.” Geoffrey motioned to one of his guards. “Bring the lass.” Geoffrey moved toward the altar, Reginald still under his control.

  The guard shoved Rhiannon forward. William didn’t know how she managed the pain of her broken arm, but somehow she kept from crying out. She tripped over her borrowed cloak, running into William’s chest, and he felt the prick of his own sword at his back.