Cherished Protector of Her Heart

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Damien sat in a chair near the window and pulled his breeches on. He pulled his boots on and donned his tunic. He glanced one last time at Aurora before grabbing his sword belt and headed for the door.

  “You have to be perfect.”

  Aurora looked around. She knew the voice. But it was distant and unfamiliar somehow.

  “I won’t love you if you are not. They won’t love you. He won’t love you.”

  A face appeared in the darkness. A beautiful face. A face she only saw in a picture on the wall, in her father’s old solar. The face was still and flat, just like the picture, brown hair combed to a shine, her nose thin, her lips closed in a grimace of disapproval. But it was her eyes Aurora could not turn away from. They looked at her with unhappiness, cold calculation and vast disapproval.

  “Mother,” Aurora whispered. Her voice sounded different, younger.

  “You think your father loved you? He wanted you to be perfect. And you never were perfect.” The lips on the picture didn’t move; the eyes were cold and unseeing.

  Aurora faced the image, her hands folded before her. She was a child, a young woman of twelve.

  “Stand straight. Keep your chin up.”

  Aurora remembered the commands. Tell her, Aurora mentally screamed. Tell her that father loved you!

  “And Damien?”

  Complete dread stabbed Aurora’s heart. Her mother didn’t know Damien. She had never met him.

  “Oh, but I have met him,” her mother said. “He killed me!”

  Anguish gripped Aurora.

  “You can never be perfect. You are marrying my killer! He doesn’t love you, either. He will leave you.”

  Aurora sat up in her bed, gasping. The room was dark and the visage of her mother still lingered in her mind. She reached for Damien…

  …but he was not there. Her hand closed over the empty, cold spot.

  Instinctively, she looked at the window. Dim light shone in from outside, but Damien was not there. He had left her. Where was he?

  Aurora stood in her father’s solar, staring at the picture of her mother, remembering her dream from the night before. Remembering Damien’s absence. Her mother had been cruel, cold and uncaring toward the villagers and toward her. As much as Aurora tried to think of one moment, she could not remember a time when her mother had looked at her with pride or with acceptance. Or with love. Her mother had not known what love was. It had been her father that had taught her.

  And Damien.

  She tried to push the doubt aside, but last night had not been the first time Damien had left her bed. Since the Countess Dumas had arrived, it had been two nights. The countess. She was a beautiful woman. And she had… known… Damien before. The image of them together, naked, wrapped in each other’s arms came to her mind.

  Maybe she wasn’t enough. Maybe she wasn’t perfect enough.

  She remembered her mother’s words from long ago – “Stand up straight. Don’t play with your hair. You’re such a silly, stupid girl.” Never good enough.

  The door opened and closed behind her, but she did not move. A heartbeat passed before Damien said softly, “You missed the morning meal.”

  Aurora didn’t answer.

  “You’re not angry with me, are you?” he asked. “I sent Gawyn to tell you I wouldn’t be able to escort you this morning.”

  She turned to him, her stomach clenched tight. “Are you happy here?”

  The muted sunlight from the fabric draped window washed over him in a red hue. He scowled. “Happy? Why would you ask that?”

  That was not an answer. Grief rose in her throat. “You were free before.”

  “Free?” He shook his head. “I was a slave. You know that. I was never free.”

  “But… you could come and go as you wished. You weren’t… trapped.”

  “Trapped?” He reached for her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not trapped. Where did you get that idea?”

  His palms were warm on her shoulders; she could feel his heat through her clothing. She scanned his handsome face, his square jaw, his aquiline nose, dark eyes. And his lips… lips that had kissed the countess. She turned away from him, to look at her mother’s picture. “Maybe I put too many expectations on you. Too many restrictions.”

  “Aurora…” His voice trailed off.

  “I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel… You’ve worked hard to be free. And you’ve earned it. I don’t want to take that away from you.”

  “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  She turned back to him. “But are you happy?”

  He touched her cheek gently, sending shivers through her body. “I’m happy here, with you.”

  Aurora launched herself into his arms, pressing her cheek to his chest.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Damien whispered against her hair.

  Tears rose in her eyes. “I had a dream…”

  Damien’s low rumble of laughter coursed through her body. “I thought you were a more practical woman than to believe in dreams.”

  She hugged him tighter. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  He stroked her back, kissing the top of her head. “That’s not possible.” He tilted her head up to look into her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you are stuck with me.” He lowered his lips to hers.

  Stuck with him. Then why did he leave her bedside in the middle of the night? And where did he go?

  Cherished Protector of Her Heart - Laurel O'Donnell

  Chapter Seven

  Damien stared down at the map spread out on the table before him.

  “All guards are on double duty. All entrances watched and everyone who enters the castle is questioned,” Captain Rupert reported.

  “They must have an invitation to enter,” Gawyn added.

  “Good,” Damien murmured, his gaze moving over the map of the castle.

  “Are you expecting trouble?”

  Damien lifted his gaze to his brother. “It’s better to be prepared. Have you questioned the knight?”

  Gawyn nodded. “He knew who you were, that’s for certain. As is usual for his kind, his opinion of you was not very high.”

  Damien ignored his brother’s attempt at easing the tension in the room. He just had a bad feeling about this whole affair. He didn’t like crowds to begin with and it felt like the entire damned population of the world was descending on Acquitaine. “Who is his lord?”

  Gawyn grimaced. “He wouldn’t say.”

  Damien’s brows rose in surprise. “You must be slipping.”

  Gawyn shrugged slightly.

  “We have men patrolling the borders. If anyone approaches, we will know,” Rupert said proudly.

  Damien dropped his gaze to the table again. He took a rolled up piece of parchment and spread it over the other map. He held the second map down with his hands. A castle was in the center and curved lands with landmarks at the borders spread out from there. “Acquitaine is a large land. It might be easy to spot an approaching army, but what of one or two men?” He shook his head. Tremors of trepidation and anxiety shot up his spine.

  “M’lord, Acquitaine is safe.”

  “It’s not Acquitaine I’m concerned about. Gawyn –”

  Gawyn sighed. “I know. Guard duty again.”

  “Unless you can get that knight to tell you who his lord is. Who sent him to Acquitaine. And why.”

  “I'll use my charm this time.”

  “Just get the information.”

  It was getting harder and harder to find time to go to the dungeon. Aurora managed it when Damien was preoccupied and Rupert was watching her.

  She descended the steps in the darkness, holding the fabric tight in her hands. She heard Rupert’s steps behind her. When she reached the bottom, she glanced around and found it empty. She looked over her shoulder at Rupert before calling, “Bruno?”

  Only the soft echo of her voice answered her call.

  Aurora stepped forward, but Rupert caugh
t her arm and moved past her.

  “Bruno?” he called.

  Bruno materialized from the darkness of the corridor where the cells were located.

  Relief swept through Aurora and she smiled at him.

  “Pardons, m’lady,” Bruno said, glancing from Rupert to her. “I didn’t think ya’d be back.”

  She held out the fabric to him. “I brought a gift.”

  Bruno took it. “I’ll give it ta him right away.” He turned.

  Aurora caught his arm, stilling his movement. “It’s for you.”

  Startled, Bruno looked down at the fabric. It was an embroidered sun with a curl of blonde hair sewn into the center. He gasped and his face melted into an emotion Aurora couldn’t read. He ran his fingers delicately, reverently over the strand of hair. “M’lady,” he whispered. He lifted his head and there was gratitude shining in his eyes. His gaze shifted to her hair.

  She brushed the errant strand back, tucking it beneath her ear.

  His mouth dropped open in shock. “Yer hair.”

  Aurora shrugged. “It will grow back. I thought it would better serve you in the dark.”

  He nodded and bowed his head. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick.

  Aurora laid a hand upon his large arm. “You are very welcome.” She looked down the hallway. “Now, will you open the cell for me?”

  Bruno lifted his head and opened his mouth as if to tell her something.

  Before he could say a word, a man moved down the hallway into the torchlight.

  Aurora’s heart stopped. She felt a moment of panic sweep through her. “Gawyn.”

  “Lady Aurora,” Gawyn greeted with a small smile on his lips.

  For a moment, Aurora could only stare, a million questions racing through her mind. What was he doing here? Did he know why she was here? Would he tell Damien? Her heart hammered in her chest.

  “What are you doing down here?” Gawyn asked. The grin never left his lips.

  She was certain he knew why she was here. She lifted her chin slightly and forced her unease down. “I could ask you the same.”

  “I have business here. But I can’t see that you would.”

  Aurora moved forward quickly, grabbing his arm tightly. “I’d like to speak to you in private for a moment.”

  Gawyn glanced at Rupert and Bruno. The two men moved to the other side of the room.

  “You can’t tell him,” Aurora whispered.

  Gawyn smiled full out, his white teeth glimmering in the torchlight. “I don’t imagine he would be pleased.”

  “Gawyn,” Aurora pleaded, “Tobias is my family now too. I have every right –”

  “Tobias? So it’s Tobias now? This isn’t the first time you’ve been down here. Sneaky little mouse.”

  “Gawyn!”

  His gazed scanned her face, as if weighing his options. His brown eyes held amusement at the situation, but Aurora was anything but pleased.

  “Please,” she whispered, her fingers squeezing his arm.

  Gawyn sighed softly. “I’ve always had a soft place in my heart for beautiful women.” He nodded. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Relief filled her and she leaned forward to brush a kiss against his cheek. She turned to go, but Gawyn caught her arm.

  When she looked at him, the amusement and laughter were gone and he was completely serious. “Remember what kind of man Tobias is. He will say and do anything to hurt Damien. He doesn’t love him. And he is not to be trusted.”

  The way he said it, the matter of fact tone of his voice, caused an inkling of anxiety to run across Aurora’s shoulders. She nodded.

  He released her arm and bowed slightly. “Good day, m’lady.”

  “Thank you, Gawyn,” Aurora said. She watched him walk up the stairs until darkness swallowed him. Both he and Damien hated their father. And she really couldn't blame them. Not after the life they led with him, not after what he had done to them. Still, she couldn’t imagine hating any member of her family with so much vehemence. Even after everything her mother had done, she didn’t hate her. She couldn’t. She was her mother. She might not understand her, but she could never hate her.

  Aurora turned to Bruno and he stepped forward.

  “This way, m’lady,” Bruno said and led the way down the hallway of cells.

  Aurora noticed the large guard still held the fabric in one of his large hands, the other reached for the keys at his belt as he paused before the door. He unlocked it as Captain Rupert came up behind her with a torch. Bruno opened the door and held it as Aurora stepped inside. Rupert followed her into the cell.

  Light washed over the dirt floor and onto Tobias. He lifted dark eyes to look at her. His hair fell forward into his eyes, greasy and unkempt. “You came back.”

  Aurora nodded. “I told you I would.”

  “Are you here to free me?”

  Guilt squeezed Aurora’s heart and she looked away. “Unfortunately, no.”

  Tobias grunted softly. “Even you cannot soften his heart.”

  Aurora ignored his comment and glanced around the cell. “Are you being treated fairly?”

  “You mean are the guards beating me?”

  “No. My men do not beat prisoners.”

  “Really?” A chuckle sounded from deep in his throat. “You should have heard the screams coming from the other cell just before you arrived.”

  Aurora glanced at Captain Rupert. He averted his gaze to the floor where he moved dust around with the toe of his boot.

  “You don’t know much for being lady of the castle,” Tobias chuckled. “Although I suspect this is Damien’s doing.”

  She stepped forward. “Do not talk about my future husband like that,” she chastised. “You don’t know him. And I suspect you never have.”

  Tobias’s eyebrows rose. Then, he bowed his head. “Forgive an old man, m’lady. Past habits die hard.” He coughed.

  “And what habits might those be? To degrade your son?”

  He shook his head, but began coughing again. “I’m sorry,” he said when the spasm subsided. “It’s chilly in the dungeon. And one as old as I –” Another onset of coughs racked his body, doubling him over.

  Aurora bent to her knees beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. The quakes shook his entire body. She glanced over her shoulder at Rupert. “Tell Bruno to fetch a blanket.” She looked back at Tobias. “I’ll have my cousin bring you a warm cup of tea.”

  Tobias nodded as the coughs continued.

  Aurora’s worried gaze moved over him. He was sick and it was no wonder, being held in this damp, cold place. She stroked his shoulder comfortingly. She would get him out of there.

  Aurora sat at the head table. Beside her, Damien’s chair remained empty. Worry made her scan the Great Hall. Where was he? With only two days left before the wedding, Acquitaine was full of people. Some knights had even set up camp just outside of the castle walls. The Great Hall was overflowing with festive guests. A juggler twirled small sacks in the air to the delight of the crowd near the rear of the hall. The servants scurried about the large hall, serving the pig and deer. A gale of laughter erupted from the middle of the hall. Just before her, a troubadour sang of courtly love.

  “Lady?”

  Aurora turned her head to see Duke Humphrey looking at her. His old eyes were filled with sympathy. She sighed softly. “I’m terribly sorry. I was listening to the troubadour.”

  He patted her hand. “Not looking for your future husband?”

  She bowed her head. “Truth be told, it would be nice to have him at my side.”

  “Do not fret,” the old Duke said kindly. “I’m sure he will be here. Nothing could keep me away if you were my betrothed.”

  Aurora grinned kindly, dropping her gaze demurely. “Thank you.”

  The troubadour began a rousing rendition of the love story he was telling and Aurora lifted her gaze to him. Over his shoulder, Aurora spotted Damien as he entered the Great Hall, tall and imposing. The Countess
Margaret was on his arm, speaking to him, smiling. Damien was listening to her, bent over to hear what she had to say. Damien lifted his eyes to hers and she quickly turned away to look at the Duke who was watching her. For the first time in her life, she couldn’t hide her emotions. There was no veil to shield the raw emotions of betrayal slithering through her mind and her body.

  The Duke shifted his gaze from her to the aisle and back. His gaze scanned her face.

  She did everything in her power to push her swirling emotions down, but jealousy was a horrible monster and she felt her throat closing around misgivings.

  “Would you like me to escort you to your room?” the Duke asked.

  Aurora nodded. Together, they stood.

  He took her hand and tucked it beneath his arm. They started toward the aisle, but Aurora was not prepared to see Damien right then and steered him toward the kitchens and the back exit.

  They walked in silence, through the smoky kitchen, through the shouts of the servants and the hurried cooks. They emerged into the hallway and fresh air.

  Aurora took a deep breath.

  “Are you all right?” the Duke wondered.

  She nodded and pushed an errant strand of hair from her forehead. “Thank you,” she whispered and released his arm. “I don’t want to keep you from the meal. I can find my way from here.”

  “It really is not a problem. The food will be there when I return.”

  “Very well.” She agreed and took his arm again. They walked through the hallway.

  “You have many visitors here.”

  Aurora nodded.

  “It is the duty of the lord and lady to be host to all.” He placed a hand over her arm. “Perhaps what you imagine is not what you saw.”

  Aurora considered his words with a slight scowl.

  “Lady Aurora. You must truly love Sir Damien. And from what I’ve seen, he adores you. He has eyes only for you. Don’t let your imaginings put your mind at doubt.”

  She nodded. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was an explanation for why Damien had the countess on his arm, why he warned her to stay away from them and then escorted the beautiful countess to the meal. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. They reached her door and the Duke said goodbye. He pressed his lips to her knuckles. Before she entered her room, she noticed Gawyn watching her from down the hall.