He grunted. “The extra coin will be welcome.”
“Aye,” Seathan agreed.
A light breeze scented with the loch and grass swirled past. Alexander walked by his brother’s side, edgy, but curious as to the reason of Seathan’s request to accompany him. He could have shared the news of the arms agreement while they’d broken their fast.
Seathan halted before a merlon. “I remember standing here on mornings when I could not sleep. I would come here to be alone, to try and work out problems that seemed insurmountable.” He leaned against the carved stone and stared out. “Somehow our father would know when I was troubled and he would find me. Though he did not always give me answers, he would offer advice to help me weigh my final decision.”
“Aye,” Alexander agreed. “He always discerned when one of us needed a guiding hand. Or required a proper setting down.” And he’d been a man who’d sacrificed his life to save Alexander’s. He swallowed hard. “I miss him.”
Reflections of grief sifted through Seathan’s eyes. “As do I.”
“He would be proud of how you have guided Lochshire Castle with a steady hand.”
“But not alone. You, Duncan, and Patrik have helped when there has been a need, offered support when sought out.” Seathan paused. “Until now. You are troubled, yet you harbor your thoughts.”
Irritated by his brother’s ability to discern what most would miss, Alexander remained silent. What would he tell him, that he despised treating Nichola like his prisoner? That he wanted her for his lover? Or that she moved him as no other?
Maybe he should tell him that she wished him dead, and her harsh words hurt the worst?
Shame scraped up his throat. He’d allowed his feelings to grow toward his enemy. ’Twas unforgivable. Even the knowing changed naught. God help him, she meant more to him than she should.
“There is naught to discuss,” he finally replied. He looked toward where the morning sun cut through the fog hovering over the calm waters. “The abduction went well enough. The request for ransom has been sent. Now the arms we need are awaiting our arrival.”
“What I speak of has little to do with arms, the mission, or the rebels. You have walked around like an injured badger for the last four days.”
Alexander stiffened. “I have kept to my self.”
“Aye,” Seathan replied with a quiet concern that had Alexander clenching his teeth. “More so than since our father’s death.”
“By God’s eyes, I do not want to talk of—”
“You have not spoken of our father’s death, but it eats at you,” Seathan pressed. “It shows in your every step. At how you always volunteer for dangerous missions.”
Guilt poured through Alexander as the last seconds of his father’s life rolled through his mind. On his grave, he’d vowed to take vengeance upon the English. Now, his desire for Nichola betrayed everything he stood for.
“Leave it.”
“Your being killed will change naught,” Seathan said. “Nor replace our father. It is long past time to air your grief.”
“Grief,” Alexander spat. “Is that what it is called watching our father die in my arms from an arrow meant for me?”
Green eyes darkened to black. “It was his choice. The decision is long made. And past.”
“You asked me here to speak of our father?”
“In part.”
“And the other?” Alexander asked, afraid he already knew the reason.
For a long moment his brother studied him. “You are a man who loves to tumble with the lasses. But never have I seen a woman who has left you on edge to where you will not turn to family for help. Lady Nichola has.”
“I am worried about her,” he finally said, which was the truth.
A humorless smile touched Seathan’s mouth. “Worried or smitten?”
“Blast it, I have stayed away from her for the last four days.”
“And with each passing one, your mood darkens.”
His spine stiffened. Because it was the truth, Alexander bit back his sharp retort. “When the time comes to return her to England, I will do my duty.”
“I have asked Patrik to escort her back to England once the ransom arrives.”
Alexander glared at him. “I abducted Nichola.”
His brother watched him, the quiet strength in his expression making Alexander’s gut tighten. He knew that look. Seathan would not be swayed from his decision.
Seathan shook his head. “Patrik will go.”
Panic shot through him at the thought of losing even those few precious days with Nichola. “Is it wrong to want time with her? Only the few days it will take to deliver her back to Rothfield Castle?”
“There is no right or fairness in war, only sadness and injustice.” Seathan studied him, his sharp eyes missing nothing. “With her reputation already in ruins by the abduction, the time you spend with the lass while she is at Lochshire Castle is of no consequence. As long as she is treated well and is willing in whatever you both do in private. With her brother’s wealth, he can easily find a man who will offer to wed her.”
He held his hand up when Alexander made to speak.
“You may think my words harsh or unjust,” Seathan continued, “but I understand the caring and the heartbreak of letting go of a woman. A sane man, when his mind becomes twisted by his feelings, can become a fool. I have already informed Patrik that he, along with a chaperone, will travel and exchange the woman for the ransom.”
Unease rumbled inside. “With his grudge against the English, do you think his escorting Nichola wise?”
“You believe he would harm her?”
That was another issue. Though not brothers by blood, he considered Patrik his true brother. But neither could he forget that the murder of Patrik’s family by the English had brought Patrik to their home. He’d like to believe that Patrik would never harm Nichola. Mayhap, ’twas his feelings for Nichola that spurned his protectiveness.
Unsure of the base of his misgivings, Alexander shrugged. “No.” But doubts remained.
Seathan nodded. “All I have done is changed the time you will spend with Lady Nichola by a few days at most.”
Alexander wanted to object, fought the words crowding his tongue for release, but he understood with humbling clarity his brother’s reasoning.
Two years ago, Seathan, the rational, level-headed man who always walked the righteous path, had fallen in love—with a married woman. She’d dismissed Seathan’s declarations of love and explained she’d used him to make her husband jealous.
Seathan had returned home, his innocences lost, and his pride shattered. He’d changed, had become quieter and harder. The laughter that had softened his face during his youth was now almost nonexistent.
But for his brothers, Seathan would offer his life.
If anyone else had informed Alexander he wouldn’t escort Nichola back to England, he would have rebelled like a wolf protecting its mate. Not to Seathan. His brother’s words held wisdom, insight painfully learned.
Even if he refuted Seathan’s decree, what could he offer as a defense? His abduction of Nichola had already invited the baron’s wrath, hostility he’d shamefully disregarded. Alexander dropped his hands to his sides. Seathan was right. Besides, escorting Nichola home would only deepen his sorrow.
With his mind made up and his heart heavy, Alexander nodded his agreement.
“Upon Patrik’s return,” Seathan explained, “you, along with a contingent of hand-picked men, will travel to the western edge of Selkirk Forest where you will meet with the men selling us arms. After they have received payment, they will lead you to the weapons.”
“Aye,” Alexander replied, his throat tight.
His brother laid a hand on his shoulder. “We are given choices, but not always those we want.” Pain flashed on Seathan’s face before he could shield the emotion, and Alexander understood, his brother thought of the woman who had hurt him. “I have a task to take care of now, but I look forwar
d to our next round on the practice field.”
“As will I,” Alexander said, forcing out a lightness he didn’t feel.
Seathan walked away.
The echo of his brother’s steps down the turret faded, and Alexander rubbed the back of his neck. Aye, he would do his duty for his country and his clan, but he doubted there would ever come a time when he would forget Nichola.
With a heavy heart, he descended the stairs. At the bottom, the servant he’d assigned to Nichola’s care rushed toward him, but his gaze was already skimming up to where her window stood open.
And empty.
He remembered the servant’s report yesterday of how over the past four days, Nichola had become withdrawn. News that had disturbed him to the point where he’d almost agreed to Nichola’s request to see him. But his last confrontation with her, their kiss, had kept him from making such a dangerous move. As much as he wanted to deny her effect over him, he couldn’t.
The young woman halted before him. “Lady Nichola did not touch her food last eve or break her fast this morning.”
“Is she ill?”
“She looks peaked, but nothing I say will convince her to eat.” Lines of worry dredged in the servant’s brow. “I fear if she does not eat soon, she will fall ill or worse.”
“I will speak with her.” But only for a moment. He refused to make the same mistake twice and allow himself to become tempted by her feminine wiles.
Relief swept over her face. “My thanks, Sir Alexander.”
“Bring a fresh tray of food to the room. I will ensure Lady Nichola finishes it.”
“Aye.” The woman hurried away.
Alexander strode across the courtyard. The stubborn chit. Did she think that with her token rebellion he would cave in and allow her freedom to roam the castle and give her another chance to escape?
He ascended the torch-lit tower, his unease growing with each step. Should he have checked on Nichola before? Was she truly ill? Or was this yet another ruse?
After her last failed escape attempt and now with being locked within the tower room, didn’t she realize that he couldn’t allow her to slip away? No. The chit didn’t have enough sense to quit, all because of her stubborn pride.
He couldn’t help but admire that Nichola fought for what she believed in. ’Twas a strength of his as well. But her determination to best him changed nothing. He’d not tolerate her defiance. She would eat. Then he would leave.
But when he stepped inside the chamber, the woman who turned to face him from near her bedside was a ghostly version of the spirited lass he’d abducted. The frail sadness in her eyes almost dropped him to his knees.
His heart pounded as he crossed the room.
“You came.”
Her shaky whisper dragged his guilt deeper. Intent on keeping distance between, he’d ignored her servant’s concerns. By her appearance, he should have checked on her from the first report, or asked one of his brothers to do so in his stead. But jealous, he’d wanted no one else in attendance of Nichola but his servant.
His guilt mounted higher until it stank like a dung heap. However she’d hurt him, she didn’t deserve to waste away. “What in God’s name are you doing to yourself?”
“I asked to see you . . . each day,” she said, her voice but a whisper. “You never came.”
He closed the door. “It is best I keep away.”
Did he hate her? Was that why he’d abandoned her? Or was it because she was his prisoner, a fact at odds with him wanting her?
“Why?” Nichola winced at the tremor in her voice, but was unable to hide it. She’d longed for this moment for days, and she had every intention of being strong. But now that he was here, all she could do was feast her eyes on him and wish they’d met under different circumstances. But she couldn’t allow him to see how his presence affected her. How she ached with wanting him.
’Twas the days locked inside this room that heightened her awareness of him. Though beautifully adorned and steeped with enchanting qualities, this chamber was a prison.
“If only for a short while, I would like to go outside. Please,” she added, desperation forcing her pride to take yet another blow by having to beg.
“So you can try and escape?”
A part of her died at his question. Aching, she summoned the courage to speak. “As if locked within these walls I could escape, much less survive in the forest on my own if I did? Or have you forgotten the pitifully failed attempt that landed me in the patch of stinging nettles?” Or how he’d cared for her with such tenderness during the hours after?
He grunted. “You would still try.”
Yes. If given the chance she would.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Enter,” Alexander said.
Nichola watched as the woman who tended her swept into the room. She placed a tray of food on the table and left as the rich smell of warm bread, roast venison, and herbs drifted through the room. She stared at the generous spread. The last thing she needed was to spend time with him alone.
Refusing to be swayed from her desire for a token of personal freedom, she turned toward him. “Will you grant me my request?”
“Break your fast, then we will discuss it.”
“I am not hungry.” Her stomach issued a traitorous growl.
“You will eat.” He moved to pick up the trencher topped with the thinly cubed meat and walked over. He halted a pace before her. The air pulsed around them as a silent battle of wills ensued.
Using his dagger, he speared a chunk of meat and brought it to her mouth. Slow, with intent, he brushed it across her lips. Her lower lip trembled, and his eyes darkened with longing, the way a man looks at a woman he wants and desires above all things.
The way she’d yearned for him to look at her.
Nichola’s breath caught in her throat. Her pulse grew unsteady. Her body tightened and heat pulsed through her to her very core.
The moment shifted to something intense.
Intimate.
On an unsteady breath, Nichola opened her mouth and he placed the savory morsel on her tongue. She chewed and swallowed, which, with him observing her every move, was an effort unto itself.
His scent, a potent mix of man and earth, filled her every breath and her blood grew hot. If he leaned forward a degree, their bodies would brush. His hard, lean, muscled length would press against hers. And he could sate his desire as well as hers.
As if able to read her thoughts, he shifted closer, his gaze upon her mouth, then lower. Beneath his burning stare, her nipples grew taut. Need built into a painful ache.
He set the food aside. Slowly, he backed her up until he had her pressed against the wall, caged within his powerful form. Then he leaned forward and slanted his mouth over hers, his hard body firm against her.
The taste of him stormed her senses, ripping away coherent thought. The ache inside her grew stronger, an instinctive response as primitive as time.
She shuddered. This was what she wanted, needed. More than food, more than her freedom. On a trembling exhalation, Nichola parted her lips.
And surrendered to what she could no longer deny.
Chapter Eleven
Nichola shuddered beneath Alexander’s mouth as it moved over her lips with soft determination, claiming her with a predatory intent. She should push him away, refuse him such intimacy; instead, she savored his strength, desire coursing through her body until every inch of her trembled. Aching with need, she wrapped her hands around his neck and drew him closer.
Without warning, he broke free. Desire burned in his gaze with a lethal brand as he stared down at her. Hot. Volatile. As if a mere touch would leave her blissfully singed. The scar on his left cheek tightened. He turned away.
“Finish your fare.” Hardness coated his voice, leagues from his lover’s touch of seconds before.
Nichola sank against the wall, a sharp longing radiating through her body. Alexander was angry, but she wasn’t afraid. She sensed
his anger was toward himself, his battle between his desire for her and duty. She should be relieved one of them had sense. Yet, if he hadn’t backed away, she would have allowed him . . . everything.
Shame filled her as she moved to the table. Her stomach rebelled at the thought of food, but she’d eat day-old porridge if it would gain her temporary freedom. Between the goblet of wine and sheer determination to escape the confines of her chamber, she swallowed every morsel on her trencher.
She rose. “I am finished.”
Alexander gave a brusque nod. He walked over and opened the door. “Only for a short while.”
Disquiet swept through her as she entered the doorway. He followed in silence, his footsteps softly mocking hers.
They exited the great hall and the aroma of fresh-brewed ale entwined with the melting fat used by the candle maker greeted them. Happiness touched her as the sun-kissed air warmed her face. She struggled to dismiss his unnerving presence. And failed.
Nichola tried to empty her mind by absorbing everything around her. The well-maintained buildings, the peasants who passed them to purchase wares during market day, the pounding of the smith working near the stables melded with the clang of swords as knights practiced in the bailey.
Alexander stepped up to her side, his sheer size alone making it impossible to ignore him.
“It is a fine castle,” she said without looking at him, her body far from stable after his kiss in the chamber.
“It is at that. If you are able, would you like to see more?”
Surprised by his offer, she nodded. She’d half expected that once they’d walked outside, they’d remain but a trice before he escorted her back to her chamber.
His hand cupped her elbow.
Awareness whipped through her at the simple contact. She didn’t look up. Didn’t dare. The last thing she needed was confirmation he’d experienced the same need.
Alexander kept their pace slow as they strolled by the many shops displaying various wares. The people within called out greetings to him as they passed. A few nodded to her, but several others shot her a cool glare. The true reason for her presence at Lochshire had reached the residents’ ears.
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