“This isn’t usually a place I frequent. A woman of my stature –”
“Margaret,” Damien warned in a soft voice, leading her down the stairway to the dungeon. “We made a deal. I’ve upheld my part.” He didn’t like this anymore than she did. It wasn’t an appropriate place for her. For any woman, for that matter.
“How do you know I won’t lie?”
“I have been around you enough in the past to know what type of woman you are.”
Margaret laughed quietly, her voice echoing off the walls. “You are right, of course.”
They reached the bottom and a large man stepped forward. Margaret pulled back. Damien leaned toward her. “Nothing will hurt you here. I won’t let it.”
Margaret patted his arm and straightened. “I know you won’t. And that is why I am here. The only reason.”
“Lead the way, Bruno,” Damien said.
Bruno turned, grabbed a torch off the wall and fumbled with the keys in his hand as he led them toward the cells. He stopped before a cell, unlocked it and opened the door. He had to duck to step inside.
Damien followed him in and Margaret came last.
The man was chained to the wall, his arms stretched out over his head. Blood ran from his hand where there was a finger missing. There were a few bruises on the knight’s face, but Damien was pleased Gawyn had not marred his features and left him unrecognizable. The knight lifted his face, and he grimaced at Damien before his gaze slid to Margaret. The defiance evaporated and fear widened his eyes.
“Margaret?” Damien asked.
Margaret stepped forward and hovered over him for a moment.
Damien looked the knight over. One boot was off and his foot was bloodied. He knew Gawyn would have used limbs in his torture to extract information, but even that had not worked.
“Yes,” Margaret whispered.
The knight’s lip curled in contempt.
She lifted her chin. “I know him.”
Damien drew her quickly from the knight and back out into the hallway. She was a woman of vast influence and even vaster sexual appetite. She had lain with many men. He had hoped she would recognize the knight, and in turn he could discover who his lord was. “You are certain?”
“Oh, yes. He is Count Ormand’s brother.”
Damien’s teeth slowly grit. Ormand. He had been betrothed to Aurora until he tried to compromise her and force his hand. Damien had arrived just in time to stop him from laying a hand on her. He nodded and led Margaret back down the hallway.
Bruno locked the cell door after them.
Damien turned to Bruno as Margaret waited in the stairway. He opened his mouth to give last minute orders, when something caught his eye. Lying on the table, was a beautifully embroidered sun. Damien walked the two paces to it and picked it up. He ran his thumb over the silken blonde curl in the center.
Cherished Protector of Her Heart - Laurel O'Donnell
Chapter Eight
Aurora hadn’t expected to fall asleep. She had just come to her room to think. But when she awoke, it was dark and the rays of the moon shone in through the open window. A cold breeze blew in, making her shiver. She had fallen asleep in the chair near the window. She looked down to see her legs were covered by a blanket. She hadn’t done that.
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
Aurora jumped, even though she recognized the voice. She sighed and sat back in the chair, trying to still her heart.
“You left the meal early.”
“Hmm,” she agreed.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t hear his footsteps, but sensed his presence right behind her.
“You barely ate.”
“I was waiting for you.” She folded her hands in her lap.
“I had work to attend to. I’m sorry I was late.”
“You say that a lot lately.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and she stiffened, drawing herself up. His fingers expertly massaged her shoulders, rubbing the rigidity from them. She melted beneath the ministrations and leaned back into his touch, bowing her head so he could run his thumbs up and down her neck.
He leaned over her, and said softly, “The knight in the hallway. The one sword fighting. The one who cut me. He is the brother of Count Ormand.”
Aurora tilted her head to the side. “Ormand?”
“He has never been happy with our union. Perhaps his brother was meant to deliver much more than a wedding gift.”
She scowled as Damien pressed a kiss to her neck. He continued running his hands through her hair, loosening the ties, releasing her locks. “An assassin?”
“I think it was more of an attempt to stop the marriage. I think his brother became too excited and tipped his hand early. I think he was meant to –”
“Object at the wedding,” Aurora finished.
“Rupert has been alerted, and Gawyn is keeping an eye out.”
Damien was right. Ormand had never wanted them to be together. He was jealous of Damien and had tried to compromise her before. She had been betrothed to Ormand up until that point, but she had never loved him. “What will you do with him?”
Damien's fingers worked their way through her long hair. “Banish him.”
Aurora was quiet, considering. There really was nothing else they could do.
“After our wedding, I will have him escorted from Acquitaine. Just like your father did with Ormand.”
Aurora nodded, but a small dark part of her felt it wasn't enough. Not for injuring Damien. Ormand's brother should be hung from the highest rafter, drawn and quartered.
“I could keep him locked in the dungeon. But your father was a wise ruler. I figured I'd follow his example.” He paused. “But if either of them enter Acquitaine again, they will not be leaving.”
The tone of his voice sent a shiver through her. She bowed her head. She had to agree with him. If they dared to enter Acquitaine again, the punishment would have to be severe.
Damien’s finger found and twirled the lock of hair that was shorter than the rest. “What happened here?”
Aurora shrugged. “I told you before I didn’t know.”
Damien’s hands stopped touching her and he withdrew. “You’re sure?”
Tingles of trepidation shot down her spine, but she nodded.
“Because I found it.” He placed her embroidery of the sun with the strand of her hair on her lap. “You’ve been to the dungeon.”
She stared at the embroidery.
“To speak with my father.”
She swiveled in the chair to face him, but Damien was a mere shadow. She couldn’t see his face. “He is sick.”
“Good.”
“Damien!” she chastised. “He is old! You can’t keep him in the dungeon!”
“There’s no better place for him. But I told you that. And I told you to stay away from him. You said you would.”
She looked down, taking the embroidery in her hands. “I never should have.”
“No. What did he tell you?”
She lifted her chin. “Perhaps you should speak to him if you want to know.”
Damien came around before her. “I am asking you.”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I think he is waiting for you.”
Damien shook his head and turned to the window to look out. The moonlight washed over him, caressing him in a gentle glow. “I don’t want to see him.”
Aurora set the embroidery on the chair and stood, coming up behind him. “As lord of Acquitaine, you will have to do things you don’t want to.”
“This has nothing to do with being lord. And everything to do with my past.”
“This isn’t just going to go away. He isn’t going to go away.”
“I can make him.”
Aurora touched his shoulder. “He’s your father.”
“He was my father. He lost that right for a sack of gold.” Damien placed a hand along the stones next to the window an
d leaned forward out of her reach to look out.
Aurora folded her hands before her. “I would give almost anything to see my father again,” she whispered, letting the ache of how much she missed him wash over her. “And he wasn’t perfect. What he did…” She shook her head, remembering that it was her father who had hired Roke to kill her mother. “And yet, I miss him.”
“My father is nothing like your father.”
“He could be. You don’t know.”
He whirled on her. “No. He can’t.” He stepped toward her and took her face into his hands. “I don’t want him here.”
“Talk to him.”
“I want nothing to do with him.”
“If that is true, why didn’t you banish him? Why did you lock him in the dungeon?”
Damien’s brows came down in a scowl. His gaze swept her face, her eyes, her lips.
She lifted a hand and placed it over his heart. “Because you have hope. You want to believe that he has changed.”
“No,” the growl ripped from Damien and he dropped his hands, backing away from her. “No.” He shook his head and swept past her toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer as he stormed from the room.
Aurora stood for a moment. And then a chill raced through her. What if he was going to Margaret. What if she had sent him right into the Countess’s willing arms? She grabbed a riding cloak and raced out the door.
Damien entered the forest. Twigs snapped beneath his booted feet. He shoved branches aside. He hurried as if he were running from something. Maybe he was. He paused to look at the moon high in the sky. Hope. He never had hope. He knew his father had not changed.
That was when he heard it. The snap of the twigs behind him. He moved on. Someone was following him. And whoever it was, was not very good at it. He heard their footsteps as they crunched on the fallen leaves and undergrowth of the forest floor. He heard branches breaking as they came too close to the trees. But every time he tried to see who it was, his stalker pulled back to hide behind a bush or tree.
He waited behind a tree, his sword drawn. Time to end this little game and see who was following him and why.
The follower snuck past him. Whoever it was wore a cloak over their head to shield their identity.
Damien stepped out behind him and tapped him on the shoulder with his sword.
The spy whirled to face him.
“Why are you following me?” The moment stretched on. Damien lifted his blade to place it near the person’s neck. “Who are you?” The sharp tip disappeared into the blackness of the hood.
A blonde curl fell from the darkness and the moonlight reflected off its splendor.
Damien lowered his sword. “Aurora?”
Another long silence and then a whispered, “Yes.”
Damien reached out and shoved the hood from her head. Anger surged inside him. He should have recognized her immediately! He had put a sword to her throat! “What are you doing out here?” he demanded, shoving his sword into its sheath.
Her chin lifted. “I could ask the same of you.”
“You were following me. Why?”
“Why?” There was a righteous conviction in her tone. “You sneak from our bed in the middle of the night, run from our room, to… Where were you going?”
Damien was speechless. What could he tell her? He took her arm. “I’ll see you back to the castle.”
She tore her arm free of his hold. “Why the hurry? Aren’t you meeting someone?”
He scowled. “Meeting someone?”
“Where is she?” Aurora looked around the forest.
“Who?”
“Your rendezvous. The countess.”
Damien stared at her in shock for a long moment. The countess? Aurora believed he was secretly meeting with the countess? His lips twitched.
Hurt reflected in the deep pools of her blue eyes.
“You expected to follow me out here and catch me with the countess?” he asked in disbelief. A small chuckle rumbled from his throat at such a ludicrous thought.
“What do you find laughable? That I followed you or that I expected to catch you in your rendezvous?”
“Both!” he said in exasperation.
“Yet you don’t deny the rendezvous,” she said softly.
When the tears welled in her large eyes, all humor left him. The thought that he had caused her hurt… had caused her to doubt her beauty… He remembered the hurt in her gaze when she had seen him kissing Helen. And now, would the doubt always be there? He had done this to her. “I am not here for a rendezvous. I did not leave your bed for another woman.”
“Then…why? Why do you leave me in the middle of the night?”
Damien turned away. He didn’t want to admit his weakness to her.
“It is a tryst, isn’t it?” Her voice trembled.
“No,” he insisted. “There is no other woman. You are the only one I want.”
“But I saw you coming into the Great Hall with the countess on your arm.”
“We made a deal,” Damien admitted. “Part of what she wanted was for me to publicly escort her to the meal.”
She steeled herself. “What else did your part entail?”
“I would never do that to you,” he whispered. “I would never betray you like that.” He swept her up in his arms, holding her tight against him. She resisted at first, but slowly yielded to his embrace. “You are my world, Aurora. You saved me in more ways than I can admit. I would do anything to keep you.”
She shook her head, against his chest. “But why --?”
“There is no why. I can’t explain it.” He pulled back to look into her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes that held the very rising of the sun in them. “I’m sorry I hurt you. But I was never unfaithful. The thought never crossed my mind.” He touched her cheek. The mere contact of her flesh with his sent an ache to taste her flooding through him.
“What do you do out here? Why do you come here?”
He pressed his lips to her resistive ones. “To practice.”
“Practice? You mean with your sword?”
He nodded and dropped his hand to pat the sword at his waist.
“Why not practice with the guards? With the other knights?”
Coldness spread over him. “Knights never welcomed me.” He shrugged. “I can’t get past that. Maybe one day, but not now. Besides, I require a regiment that is strict and merciless. I can’t ask the men to keep up with me. I have to keep my skills honed.” Her gaze scanned his face, and for a moment he felt as though she could see into his soul. His instinct was to pull away, but he fought that instinct. She was to be his wife. He wanted her to understand him.
“I’ve been thinking of this all wrong. I thought you began to leave my bed when the countess arrived. But that’s not it at all, is it?” Her hand lowered to gently cover his healing cut. “It was when the knight wounded you, wasn’t it?”
Startled, he pulled back. Maybe she did understand him more than he gave her credit for. “It had nothing to do with the countess. I should never have let that knight cut me. I’ve been too soft in my training.”
Her face melted into sorrow. “I doubted your loyalty. I doubted you.”
He pushed a strand of gold from her cheek. “You followed me.”
“Can you forgive me?”
He looked into those large, clear eyes. “There is no need. You are perfect the way you are. I would have you no other way.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, having to stand on the tips of her toes to do it. “I love you,” she whispered.
He squeezed her back. He wanted to give her everything. He wanted her to be happy. He would do anything for her. Anything. He loved her. He kissed her neck.
“What was this deal you made with the countess?”
He couldn’t stop touching her and ran his hands along her curvy sides. “I wanted her to see if she could identify the knight in the dungeon.”
“
She did. That’s how you found out who he was.”
He nodded. “She knows a lot of men. Intimately.”
Aurora scowled. She ran her fingers over his chest. “And what did the rest of the deal entail?”
Damien picked up her fingers and pressed a kiss to their tips. “There is one thing the countess likes more than sex.” He grinned. “Gold.”
A radiant, joyful smile slid over Aurora’s lips. It lit up her entire face.
Damien pressed his lips against hers, sharing in her joy.
Damien had to do this. It was the last remaining thing standing in the way of their happiness. He stared down at his boots as he stood before the door.
Aurora slipped her hand into his.
He hadn’t wanted her to come. She had insisted. And he couldn’t deny her. He didn’t look up, but squeezed her hand. He pushed the key into the lock of the cell door, and when it clicked he eased the door open.
He stood in the doorway, staring into the darkness for a long moment. He wasn’t sure what to expect. The blackness was all consuming. He felt its cold nip at the fingers on his free hand, felt it slither up his back as if it were trying to reclaim him.
He looked at Aurora. Even in the darkness her perfectly braided golden hair was a beacon. But he couldn’t see her face.
Slowly, as Bruno brought the torch from down the hall, the light washed over her in a warm, caressing golden embrace.
Damien clutched her hand, his anchor to the light. He turned to face the cell and stepped inside.
Drip drip drip sounded in the dark cell. The pungent aroma of body odor assailed him. The bitter stench of urine. His immediate instinct was to spirit Aurora far away, but she had already been here. And without his protection.
“Is it you?” The voice cracked.
Aurora had told him everything his father said. He had decided to face him so that Aurora would not be subject to his bitterness. Her compassion was one of her weaknesses. And one of her strengths.
Cherished Protector of Her Heart Page 6
