Ever My Love: The Lore of the Lucius Ring (The Legend of the Theodosia Sword Book 2)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Valeria was still staring at the ring. There was no doubt in her mind that this was her aunt’s stolen ring. She couldn’t help but notice that Tyren hadn’t answered her question and the legend he’d told her about was a variation of the true legend of the ring. So he knows of the legend, she thought. He must – otherwise, why would he even mention a legend associated with the ring?

  Confused and feeling an overwhelming sense of disappointment and shock, she realized she had to say something to him. The longer she went without speaking, without acknowledging his gift, the more he might believe something was terribly wrong. Perhaps he would take the ring and flee.

  God, she didn’t want him to flee.

  But how did he get the ring?

  “I… I am simply speechless with all of this,” she finally said, struggling with her composure, finally lifting her gaze to look at him. “I had no idea you felt such things, Ty. You never made any indication what your intentions were, ever. This… this is all something of a shock.”

  Tyren smiled faintly. He could see how surprised she was but she was still rather pale. It concerned him. “I suppose that I did not want to frighten you away,” he said. “It has taken some time for me to summon the courage to speak of what is in my heart. I pray that I have not offended or upset you.”

  Valeria shook her head but inside, she was feeling increasingly ill. Was her sweet Tyren the outlaw she had been trying to catch for three long years? Was it really possible?

  Of course it was… she had the proof on her hand!

  But surely… surely there was another explanation!

  “You have not upset me,” she said softly. “I am sure you have sensed that it has only been you in my heart and mind for some time. I do not believe I have been clever at hiding my feelings.”

  Tyren’s smile grew. “Then you will allow me to speak with your father?”

  She sighed, having no idea how to respond. She struggled. “I… I will ask,” she said, knowing full well that there was no way she would allow Tyren to see her father, but at the moment, she had to say something. Then she had to get away from him, to think on the situation and decide a course of action. It would seem that many a shocking secret would be revealed on the event of her eighteenth birthday, secrets she wasn’t, perhaps, ready to accept. It was all so overwhelming. Quickly, she stood up. “I will ask him now. Please… please go to the hall and I will come to you after I have asked.”

  Tyren couldn’t help but notice how nervous she seemed. More than that, she wouldn’t look him in the eye. He was coming to wonder why. It wasn’t like Valeria to be so pale or so nervous, so he was very curious and concerned about it.

  “Of course, my lady,” he said in his rich, soothing tone. “But may I ask a question before you go?”

  “Aye.”

  He put out a hand, grasping her gently on the arm. “Are you sure that I have not offended you?”

  She shook her head, although her gaze was averted. “I am sure,” she said quickly. “I am… honored. I am truly honored. I suppose all of this is simply overwhelming with everything. As I said, it is something of a surprise.”

  “But is it a welcome one?”

  She lifted her eyes then, looking at him. He was so handsome and strong and her heart, so torn with confusion, still managed a flutter for him. In fact, that flutter seemed to override everything, including her shock at realizing who Tyren de Dere really was. She could hardly bring herself to entertain the words, but she had to face the reality of the situation. Tyren was in possession of a ring that had been stolen by the Greenhead Ghost.

  The Greenhead Ghost!

  She had to know the truth. She had to know everything.

  “Aye,” she murmured. “A very welcome one. But you did not answer me when I asked where you got this exquisite ring. Did you buy it? Did someone give it to you?”

  His smile faded somewhat. “Do you always ask where gifts come from?”

  He had a point. She shook her head, looking back at Aunt Cassia’s ring, now firmly wedged on the middle finger of her left hand. “Nay,” she said. “Forgive me for being rude. It is simply that I am curious about it. It is very… unique. Is it a family heirloom?”

  He was willing to believe she had been overwhelmed with his gift and marriage proposal, but there was something in her manner that suggested there was more to it. He didn’t know what “more”, but something else had her shaken. Perhaps, he would discover what it was after she’d had time to compose herself. The wine and festivities of her celebration would do wonders to soothe her and Tyren intended to be by her side for every second of it.

  “It is not a family heirloom,” he said, taking her hand again. “But you are correct when you said that it is unique. It is as unique and beautiful as you are. I will retreat to the hall now and await your return. I will miss you every moment while you are away from me.”

  It was such a sweet thing to say. Valeria watched as he lifted her hand for a tender kiss before retreating from the solar. Valeria watched him go, warmth in her expression in spite of everything, but the moment he was gone, the warmth faded. When she heard the keep’s entry door shut as he departed, she fled the solar for Aunt Cassia’s chamber.

  All the while, she kept praying there were two rings that looked exactly alike and Tyren had simply gotten his hands on one of them. The alternative was too difficult for her to handle.

  But deep down, she knew the truth.

  Tyren is the Greenhead Ghost!

  Chapter Six

  The Painful Truth

  “I want you to see something.”

  The statement came from Valeria as Cassia sat at a table in her comfortable chamber, a chamber that used to belong to Valeria’s mother long ago. It had a dressing table in it with a polished bronze mirror and, upon that table, Cassia had spread about a good deal of her grooming items. Combs, pins, lip and cheek rouge, and perfume were scattered as the old woman tried to fix her hair. She usually had a maid who did all of the mundane grooming tasks for her, but her maid had disappeared in Carlisle, run away with a soldier Cassia thought, so the old woman had to do without a maid on this trip. When Valeria suddenly appeared in her doorway, however, she ignored the girl’s statement and ordered the lass to her side.

  “Help me,” she demanded, holding up a comb. “I cannot work the back of my head, Valeria.”

  Valeria sighed sharply as she came into the room. “Did you hear me?” she said. “I want you to see something.”

  Cassia nodded disinterestedly; she was more interested in Valeria helping her with her toilette. “Yes, yes, girl, what is it?” she said impatiently. “Your guests are arriving and I am not nearly dressed yet. Hurry and help me!”

  Valeria didn’t say another word, nor did she accept the comb that Cassia was extending to her. She held out her hand, with the ring on her middle finger, and placed it right in front of Cassia’s face. Irritated, the old woman pushed her hand away until she realized what her niece was wearing. Then, she snatched the girl’s hand back again, eyes wide at the sight of the ring.

  “You found it!” she nearly screamed. “Oh, my darling girl, you found my ring! How on earth did you find it?”

  Valeria let her aunt pull at her hand and yank off the ring. As Cassia gasped with delight over her returned property, Valeria sat heavily upon her aunt’s silk-swaddled bed. She was absolutely beside herself with anguish.

  “Auntie, I have a terrible problem,” she said, distressed. “You must listen to me and you must not grow hysterical. Can you do this?”

  Cassia nodded eagerly, more interested in the ring than her niece’s grief. “Of course, my dearest,” she said. “What is the problem?”

  Valeria knew her aunt was distracted and her sense of torment increased. “Swear to me that you will not repeat what I am about to tell you,” she said. “Swear it to me or I shall not say a word.”

  Cassia, hearing the tone of Valeria’s voice, finally looked up from the ring. Her niece looked as if she wer
e about to cry and Cassia was immediately concerned with the girl’s sorrow.

  “Speak, child,” she encouraged. “I will not tell a soul.”

  “Swear it.”

  “I do, my dearest, I do.”

  Much to Valeria’s embarrassment, she realized that tears were, indeed, on the surface but she fought them. She had to think logically about this. She had to think like the Warden of the Tyne Vale, someone who had ably kept the peace for the past three years. She pointed to the ring.

  “Are you for certain that is your ring, Auntie?” she asked.

  Cassia nodded without hesitation. “Of course it is,” she said, turning the ring around and pointing to the inside of the band. “See here? It says mea semper.”

  Valeria came off the bed to see what her aunt was pointing at. Indeed, on the dark gold interior of the band, she could see Latin words scratched out. Being an educated woman, unusual in this day, she could read and write Latin. She understood.

  “Mea semper,” she repeated softly. “Ever my love.”

  Cassia nodded. “My mother told me that the ring came from a woman far back in our family lines by the name of Theodosia,” she said. “At least, she was the first of our family to have the ring. Her husband, Lucius, gave it to her.”

  Valeria had heard the story before. “That is why it is called The Lucius Ring,” she said. “But I did not know there was an inscription on it.”

  Cassia nodded, pointing to the tiny letters. “Mea semper,” she murmured. “Ever my love. It is what Theodosia called her husband.”

  Valeria’s gaze lingered on the ring. “So there is no doubt this is your ring.”

  Cassia shook her head firmly. “None at all,” she said. “I must know where you found it, my dearest. Did you punish the man who stole it?”

  Valeria moved away from her aunt and back over to the bed again. She felt sick to her stomach. “I did not find it,” she said. “As for the man who stole it… Auntie, the young man we spoke of yesterday… Tyren de Dere… he arrived earlier today.”

  Cassia was excited. “I should very much like to meet your young man,” she said. “But why do you mention him?”

  “Because he gave the ring to me as a birthday gift.”

  Cassia wasn’t quite catching on to her niece’s distress. She was, however, confused. “He gave it to you?” she repeated. “Then he must have rescued it from that terrible man who stole it from me!”

  Valeria shook her head, struggling not to become agitated. “Nay, Auntie,” she said. “I do not believe he rescued the ring from anyone. He would not tell me where he received it but he did know something of the legend because he told me the ring had a legend associated with it. Did you tell the man who took it from you that the ring was cursed?”

  Cassia nodded, her eyes widening. Now, she was coming to see that something was very, very wrong. “I told him,” she said, aghast. “I told him that if he gave the ring to a young woman, that the curse would be hers to bear. I told him in the hopes of discouraging him from taking it but he took it without reserve. Sweet Jesu… you say that your young man gave you the ring as a gift?”

  Valeria nodded miserably, realizing that her aunt was becoming aware of the severity of the situation. “Auntie, would you know the man who stole it from you?” she whispered. “If you saw him, would you know?”

  Cassia was nearly beside herself with shock. “Nay, my dearest, I would not,” she said. “He was wearing a sack over his head. I did not see him at all.”

  “Would you know his voice, then?”

  To that, Cassia nodded firmly. “I would,” she declared. “I would know his voice anywhere.”

  Valeria knew she had a prime opportunity facing her. She had someone who could identify the thief who had stolen from her, the Greenhead Ghost who had been wreaking havoc these past three years. Of course, perhaps it wasn’t even Tyren. Perhaps he simply found the ring on the road somewhere and was too embarrassed to tell Valeria that he was bringing her a ring he’d found in the mud. She could have easily believed that but for the fact that he mentioned a legend associated with the ring. It wasn’t the right legend, but it held some elements of the one belonging to The Lucius Ring.

  Enough elements that she had to believe he heard the legend personally.

  The Greenhead Ghost. He was the only outlaw so bold and brazen, executing daytime robberies with astonishing skill, to chance an ambush on her aunt’s traveling party without fear of being caught. It made Valeria positively ill to realize that the Greenhead Ghost had been Tyren all along. Her sweet, handsome Tyren as a thief. A bandit. And her father, as Warden of the Tyne Vale, would be expected to punish him once he was caught.

  Execute him.

  Valeria hung her head, swallowing hard. She knew, even as those words filled her head, that she couldn’t execute the man. There was no way she could do it. But if Worth and the other men found out who Tyren really was, she would have little choice. They would demand to bring the man to justice. If she resisted, then they would lose trust and faith in her. Her charade as Warden of the Tyne Vale would be over and chaos would reign because, sooner or later, word would get out that Mars de Velt was an invalid and that his daughter had been assuming his duties for the past three years. They would all be in danger then, for a woman was not allowed such responsibilities. Worth and the other men followed her out of respect, but that would end if she opposed them in the execution of the Greenhead Ghost.

  Of Tyren.

  “Oh, Auntie,” she finally gasped, her head falling forward into her hands. “What if it is true and he has stolen this ring from you, only to give it to me? What if it is true and he is the terrible outlaw who has been robbing travelers on the road between Carlisle and Newcastle for these three years past? Papa’s men have tried to find him but he is always elusive. What if that terrible outlaw known as the Greenhead Ghost is really my sweet Tyren?”

  Cassia learned a good deal in that miserable outburst. Although she was a silly, flighty woman most of the time, Cassia was also quite intelligent and had her moments of wisdom. Those moments were few and far between, but she was capable of such a thing. As Valeria sat there with her head in her hands, Cassia looked to the ring still in the palm of her hand. It was crimson color. She hadn’t seen that color on the stone in a very long time. Forty years to be exact. Forty years since she’d last known love as rich and deep as the color of the crimson stone.

  It had been a long time, indeed.

  “The last time this stone held this color was when I was in love with my Albert,” she said softly. “Oh, how I adored the man. We were wed and so very happy, but a fever took him from me. It was the worst time of my life. To love someone and then to lose him is the worst thing a woman can bear. Valeria, do you love Tyren?”

  Valeria nodded, sniffling as she struggled to stave off the tears. “I do,” she said. “I suppose I always have. I did not realize how much I loved him until today.”

  “Does it matter to you that he has been leading a life of crime? I cannot imagine that you would love a wicked man, my dearest.”

  Valeria shook her head, wiping at her nose. “He is not a wicked man,” she said. “I have known him since I was a child. He takes care of his sick mother and invalid brother, and he has a large lordship with many people that depend on him. He is a good and fair man. But I cannot understand why he would do such a thing. Why would he become a criminal?”

  Cassia was still looking at the ring. “Who can say?” she said. “Mayhap it was out of necessity. I cannot imagine anything that would make a good man do such desperate things other than out of necessity.”

  Valeria seriously thought on that, trying to find a reason behind Tyren’s secret identity. “His family used to raise cattle,” she said. “They had massive herds but those herds died out a few years ago. We all assumed… that is to say, the House of de Dere was always wealthy. We all assumed they had wealth to spare and did not need the herds.”

  Cassia looked up from the ring,
her gaze fixing on her niece. “How long ago did the herds die out, you say?”

  “About three years ago.”

  “And when did this Greenhead Ghost appear?”

  A look of shock washed over Valeria’s features. “Three years ago.”

  Cassia could see that her niece was thinking the same thing she was. She looked back at the ring. “A proud family would not tell you if they had no more wealth left,” she said. “They would not ask for help. You have said that many people are dependent upon your Tyren. Mayhap… mayhap he did what he had to do in order to survive.”

  Valeria was struck by the thought. “Of course,” she breathed. “It makes perfect sense.”

  “Mayhap you should ask him.”

  Valeria looked at her aunt, aware that the woman was correct. She simply couldn’t sit here and agonize over it. She had to ask him about it, to know the truth. If he was fond of her, as he said he was, then perhaps he would tell her the truth. If not… if not, then she would give him a chance to get away. She wouldn’t tell anyone what she knew. But she would tell him to stay away forever. As she saw it, there was little choice.

  Dear God… the agony of it.

  “Very well,” she said, rising from the bed. “He is in the hall with the other guests. Auntie, you must identify him. If I bring him here to you, will you do this?”

  Cassia nodded. “I will,” she said. “But if it is the man who stole the ring from me, what will you do? Will you tell your father?”

  Valeria was already moving for the door, her movements lethargic as she prepared to undertake a most unsavory task. She thought on her aunt’s question where it pertained to her father and she suddenly felt compelled to tell the woman the truth about Mars and his disability. There were more dark secrets at Fourstones than she could adequately deal with. Between Mars’ disability and Tyren’s identity, she had enough on her shoulders.