Honor Bound

by C. J. Archer

  "I know. We’ll find somewhere to be together," he said softly. "Where no one knows us."

  "No." She turned and looked up at him, her eyes wide. She looked more afraid now than she had when tied to the chair. "I can’t let you throw away your life for me."

  He pressed a finger to her lips and shushed her gently. "We’ll discuss this later." But he had no intention of negotiating with her. They were going together and that was final.

  Once outside the room, he slammed the door shut, grabbed her hand and pulled her after him down the stairs.

  "You can get out of this," she said from behind him. "With your contacts—"

  "Not now, Isabel, I’m busy."

  "But Nick, this is the only chance we’ll have to talk." She sounded angry and a little breathless. She’d been through a lot and was probably still suffering the effects of her abduction. He wanted to slow down for her but didn’t dare.

  "I’m leaving London as soon as we get out of here," she said. "And you’re going home. Do you understand me? I’ll not take no for an answer."

  At the base of the stairs, he slowed his pace. "Neither will I." He turned and picked her up, lifting her unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of wheat so that her rump stuck out near his face. He resisted the urge to bite it since everyone in the main bar was looking at them. "I’ve just got you back after six long years. I am not letting you run off again. I love you, Isabel. You are mine and I’m going to keep you by my side no matter what, no matter where."

  Two well-dressed gentlemen approached them, hands hovering over their sheathed swords. "Everything all right here, Miss?" one asked.

  "Perfectly," Isabel said from over Nicholas’s shoulder. "It’s just a little marital disagreement. You know what it’s like."

  The one who’d spoken snickered. "That I do. Good luck," he said to Nicholas and they returned to their seats.

  Nicholas nodded to the fat landlord, thought of telling him about the dead body upstairs then decided against it. Announcing that type of news would only hinder their escape. He pushed open the door and carried Isabel outside into the cold air. She’d stopped struggling so he let her down gently. It belatedly occurred to him that she could easily have extracted herself at any time if she’d wanted.

  "Nicholas, I—"

  "Be quiet, Wife," he said, unable to resist teasing her. "We’ve got to get away."

  She put her hands on her hips, her eyes flashing in the darkness. "I will not. You don’t understand what—"

  He took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. He felt the tension in her body ease and she relaxed into him, soft and pliant. She felt so good. So right. So...his.

  "We don’t have time for this," he said, drawing away.

  Isabel felt giddy from the kiss and the remaining effects of Fox’s herbs. She tried to think straight, think of how she could make Nick understand that she would never jeopardize his life. And right now, he was in danger just as much as she was. But he could still get away and with Lord Ashbourne and his other important friends to protect him, it was possible his life would be spared.

  Unlike hers.

  The Justice of the Peace had witnessed her witchcraft first hand—there was no way he would let her walk away. She checked over her shoulder, expecting to see him racing out of the inn to arrest her. She had to escape before she did something terrible again. She didn’t want to hurt anyone else. It was awful enough to have killed Fox, but to kill someone who was only doing his duty... No, she wanted to avoid that at all costs.

  She had to leave now, slip into the dark lanes and disappear into the night. And she couldn’t take Nick with her.

  But Nick had other ideas. He pulled her by the hand into the stable yard, shouting at the lad to ready his horse.

  "We’ll travel as far as we can tonight, taking the lesser roads—"

  "No!" She pulled him to a halt. "Don’t make me render you unconscious, Nick. Please," she added when he said nothing. She couldn’t see him well in the darkness but his seething anger reached her through their touching hands. He was furious.

  "Doesn’t my declaration of love mean anything to you?" His voice sounded raw, choked, and she wanted to kiss away the hurt and anger she’d caused.

  Her tears spilled hotly down her cheeks and she swiped them with the back of her free hand. "It means everything to me." And she wasn’t referring merely to his words of a few moments ago, but to his actions as well. He’d been willing to sacrifice his life for her up in the bedchamber and he was willing to sacrifice his future now by following her. He had thoroughly banished the doubts she’d harbored after eavesdropping on his conversation with Lord Ashbourne.

  But she couldn’t allow his sacrifice. She would do anything to keep him safe, and that included ensuring he didn’t come with her. She held his face between her hands, taking one last look at the man who’d stolen her heart and wishing with everything she had that circumstances were different. "I love you, Nick," she whispered, the tears flowing like a waterfall down her cheeks. "Goodbye."

  He opened his mouth to protest just as she focused on the rake leaning against the stables behind him. But her concentration was broken by shouting and the tool dropped to the stones with a clatter.

  The shouting intensified, became a roar. It wasn’t just one person but a lot of people.

  Nick’s gaze flicked past her. He swore and pulled her after him into the stable. She turned and saw the crowd coming into the yard, led by Helpman and his constable. He had raised a hue and cry back in the inn to capture them.

  "There they are!" someone cried.

  "Witch! Get the witch!"

  Wielding swords, daggers, chairs and even tankards, the heaving mass surged. Not running, not hurrying, but steadily moving forward.

  "Get up," Nick said, cupping his hands so she could step up onto the saddled horse.

  "We won’t make it." Panic pitched her voice high. "Nick, there’s too many of them."

  "You can use your powers. Sweep them aside to make a path."

  She shook her head, even as she settled into the saddle. "There’s too many. I can’t—"

  "Shh." He got up behind her and circled his arms around her waist. "Yes, you can," he said into her ear, his voice calm. "You can do anything, Isabel. You’re amazing."

  His confidence and powerful body soothed her. She could feel the strong beat of his heart at her back, his breath in her hair. He was like a solid shield behind her, protecting her. She felt safe. Whatever happened, they were together.

  As it should be. It had taken her six years and a shocking ordeal but she knew that now.

  He picked up the reins and rode the horse slowly into the yard. "I am Sir Nicholas Merritt." He spoke like a commander to his army and Isabel’s heart swelled with pride. Her husband was an impressive man. "We are innocent of any crime. Step aside."

  The mass hesitated, some muttered to their neighbors, but Helpman urged them forward with a shake of his brandished sword. "You won’t be harmed," he called back to them. "We have God on our side. He will protect us."

  Nick sighed and she felt him shake his head. "Ready?" he said to Isabel.

  She nodded, focusing on the crowd, picturing them falling away to make a path, like Moses parting the Red Sea. She didn’t know if she could do it with so many people, but she had to try. Had to get Nick to safety.

  A familiar voice shouting above the crowd’s hum broke her concentration before a single person was moved by her witchcraft. "Go back inside! On the orders of Her Majesty the Queen, these people are not to be harmed."

  Then the crowd did indeed part, but not by Isabel’s doing. Lord Ashbourne rode calmly through them on a white horse. A sizeable contingent dressed in Ashbourne livery followed him on foot. Using their swords, they hustled the crowd back inside the Swan.

  "Not you," Ashbourne said to the JP. "You need to hear this."

  "Hear what?" Helpman said. He looked towards the vanishing mob then to Isabel and Nick and finally to Ashbourne.
He cleared his throat and straightened but he still looked small beside the mounted earl. "Who are you and by whose orders do you come here?"

  "I am Richard Savoy, second Earl of Ashbourne and I am here on Sir Francis Walsingham’s orders, on behalf of Her Majesty the Queen." He leaned down to look Helpman in the eye. "Do those credentials suffice?"

  Helpman nodded quickly, swallowing again.

  "Ash must be drunk," Nick whispered in her ear. "Either that or furious. Probably both." He chuckled and she felt the muscles in his body relax. He pulled her closer, kissed her throat near the cut inflicted by Fox. Already it had begun to heal without her even thinking about it. "I love you, Wife" he said.

  She leaned back into him and reached up to rub the back of his neck. She turned her head and smiled as she kissed him, despite her lingering uncertainty. Whatever happened to her now, at least she knew Nick would be safe. Lord Ashboune would get him out of trouble.

  "Am I to let them both go?" Helpman asked Ashbourne.

  "Yes."

  Isabel’s heart rose into her throat. Could it be possible? Could she be free? Nick directed their horse closer to Ashbourne and Helpman. The four of them were alone in the dark stable yard, the slender moon providing little more than a faint glow.

  "But I saw her with my own eyes!" Helpman protested. "She’s a wi—"

  "You saw nothing." Ashbourne pointed to the inn. "Get inside and be grateful you still have a job."

  Helpman turned and strode off as ordered, running the last few paces until he reached the inn door. Ashbourne nodded at Nick then took Isabel’s hand and kissed it.

  When he lingered too long, Nick cleared his throat. "That’s my wife you’re kissing."

  Ashbourne dropped her hand and Isabel was sure she could see his eyes shining before he glanced away. "You have all the luck with women," he joked without looking at them.

  "Oh, does he now?" she said to break the strange mood that had engulfed them. "And here Nick tells me he’s been thinking only of me these last six years."

  "I have! Isabel, you’re the only woman for me. Ash is being a—"

  "Come now, Nick." She laughed and leaned into him. Amazingly, his erection pressed against the small of her back. She wanted to touch it, feel him inside her, feel the weight of his body on top of her, beneath her. She grew hot with need. Lifting and turning her head slightly, she pulled him down into a thorough kiss that lit a fire in her belly and dampened her inner thighs.

  "I need a drink," Lord Ashbourne growled and Isabel broke the kiss, embarrassed. "Know anywhere good around here?"

  "There’s a little place right about, oh, here," Nick said with a grin. "Called The Swan. Mention my name to the landlord and he’ll treat you how you deserve."

  Ashbourne snorted and dismounted.

  "And watch out for the dead body, third door on the left upstairs."

  "Fox?"

  Isabel and Nick both nodded. "He tried to poison the queen," she said. "And kill my husband." She looked at Nick, too afraid to think of what might have happened if he’d succeeded. She kissed him again, and Ashbourne made a low sound in the back of his throat.

  Nick dismounted and clapped the earl on the shoulder. "You’ll find yourself a woman of your own one day," he said quietly. When the earl appeared to ignore him, he added, "Thank you, my friend."

  Ashbourne clasped Nick’s arm in a strong shake. "I didn’t do much. It’s all thanks to you and your reputation with Walsingham. It appears you are indispensable. I’m just glad I got here on time." He winked up at Isabel. "Although I don’t know if she’s worth the trouble. A little stubborn for my liking."

  "She’s worth it all right." Nick led their horse out of the stable yard. Feeling daring, Isabel blew Lord Ashbourne a kiss. Without turning around, Nick said, "Stop flirting with my wife, Ash."

  "I was framed!" Ashbourne’s laughter followed them out to the street.

  Bishopsgate Street Without was quiet, dark and freezing cold. Isabel shivered and Nick mounted behind her again and held her close against him. "Well," he said, nuzzling into her, "we can try our luck at the gate. They’ll probably let us through if I tell them who I—."

  Their horse reared when a dark figure ran out in front of them. Nick’s grip tightened and he cursed the stranger.

  "You’re not going anywhere." Helpman! He must have slipped out of the inn during the chaos.

  "You heard Lord Ashbourne," Nick snarled. "The queen—"

  "She doesn’t have all the facts." Helpman struck out with his sword, not at Isabel or Nick, but at the horse. The beast collapsed beneath them, its scream ripping through the night.

  Isabel slid off but couldn’t get away before the horse fell on her, its heavy body crushing her legs. Her own screams joined the beast’s, and were echoed by Nick.

  Oh God, not him too.

  She managed to open her eyes, fighting off the unbearable pain shooting through her to see Nick charging at Helpman, his sword drawn. She couldn’t see his face but she could feel his wrath vibrating across the air, and hear it in his battle-cry. He would kill the JP.

  Isabel sucked in a breath and pulled herself free of the dying creature. Pushing the agony away, she pressed her palms to her legs. During the precious seconds in which her crushed bones knitted, Nick engaged Helpman in a sword fight. One, two parries, then he struck him with a blow to the stomach.

  "No!" Her protest came too late. Helpman fell, clutching his bleeding side. "Not this way," she whimpered. Not another death.

  Lord Ashbourne suddenly appeared and swore. He knelt beside a gasping Helpman and pressed his hands against the wound to stop the blood flow.

  Nick looked down at the dying man and shook his head. "He would never have left Isabel alone. Not until she was dead."

  "I have to do something," she said.

  "Why? He would have killed you."

  "I know but it doesn’t matter."

  He paused then nodded slowly. "I understand."

  She knelt beside Lord Ashbourne and he removed his hands. She pressed her palms to the hole in Helpman's abdomen and felt the wound healing as her own flesh grew hot.

  Moments later, Helpman blinked up at her, the sheen of shock making his eyes shine in the moonlight. "You didn’t have to do that," he whispered.

  "Yes, I did. I want no more deaths tonight."

  Nick’s hand rested on her shoulder, solid, sure. "I, on the other hand, have no such sentiments. Not for the likes of you. But my wife’s heart is special, pure. You’d do best to remember that because she may not be around to heal you next time."

  Helpman gulped as he slowly stood, keeping Nick in his line of sight.

  "Very true," Ashbourne said. "And to help you remember, I’ll be taking you on a little journey tomorrow to Whitehall. Some very important people will want to talk to you."

  "I was only d d doing my job," Helpman stammered.

  "And they’ll define what that job is. Tomorrow." Ashbourne grabbed the back of Helpman’s cloak and hustled him towards the inn.

  Isabel turned to the horse and started the healing process on the animal’s wound. She felt Nick move up behind her but he didn’t touch her.

  "I’m sorry," he said, voice low. "Your scream...I thought you were..."

  "It’s all right." The horse clambered unsteadily to its feet and trotted down the empty street before turning and trotting back. "I know why you did it." She touched Nick’s face, tracing the hard contours of his cheeks, the soft line of his lips. "And I love you for it." She pulled him down for a gentle, sweet kiss which still managed to scorch her with its intensity.

  "Now, we need to find an inn and stay the night. Not the Swan though."

  "Definitely not the Swan." He caught the dangling reins in one hand and drew Isabel into his side with the other. He looked down at her. "I am going to make love to you all night, Isabel."

  Delicious heat curled through her. "Is that a promise?"

  "Absolutely. We’ve, ah, got some catching up to do."
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  "I know. Six years is a long time."

  "It is, but that’s not exactly what I meant. I told Mother you were pregnant."

  "What? Why?"

  "It felt like the right thing to say at the time."

  "Well," she said with a theatrical sigh, "I suppose we’d best do something about it. I don’t want to disappoint your mother."

  He smiled and they walked off, Nick in the middle, the horse and his wife on either side. "Speaking of my mother," he said.

  "Oh, dear." This time her sigh was for real. "Can’t we talk about her tomorrow?"