by Shari Anton
He glanced at Darian, who didn’t seem surprised at any of this and was still willing to take her into Alberic’s presence. Damn cruel, he thought.
“If you do not see Alberic, then you need not deal with William. Best we simply be on our way and let Darian assure your family—”
She placed a finger to his lips, her smile returning. “As I said, I see Alberic once a year, at Easter, when he brings Gwen to the abbey for a visit. I have quieted William before and can do so again. I refuse to avoid any of my family because of a dead brother’s refusal to listen to reason.”
Nicole’s finger slid from his lips to place her palm on his chest, over his heart. “I need to talk to Alberic, Rhodri, if only to assure him that I have come to no harm.”
She was set on this course, and there was no way to prevent it short of besting Darian and forcing Nicole to go with him.
At one time, he’d suffered nary a qualm over kidnapping Nicole. But no longer. Especially after last night.
Calling himself all kinds of a fool, he tore his gaze away from those doe-brown eyes he couldn’t seem to find the willpower to resist. He looked to Darian, who hadn’t said a word since threatening his life.
“What of the earl’s soldiers?”
“Leave them to me.”
Then Darian gave a sharp whistle, and from out of the woods came a splendid, obviously well-trained horse. “Your mount awaits, my lady.”
Which earned Darian another smile and hug from Nicole, leaving Rhodri with his arms empty, his heart aching, and getting a bad feeling about meeting Alberic of Chester, lord of Camelen.
From her high perch atop the horse, Nicole called down to a still-disgruntled Rhodri. “If it eases your mind, Darian must consider you an honorable man, or he would not entrust you with me or his horse.”
Indeed, Darian had surprised her a few moments ago when, after announcing that the inn was less than a league ahead, he’d handed over the reins to Rhodri before sprinting silently into the woods to check on the whereabouts of the earl’s soldiers.
“We should take the horse and ride hard,” Rhodri grumbled, not bothering to look up at her, walking along at a steady pace to a meeting he most certainly did not wish to attend.
“But we will not.”
“If I did not believe Darian would hunt me down and slit my throat for stealing both his sister-by-marriage and his horse, I would give flight consideration.”
Long ago she’d accepted the mercenary her sister married, a man who could coldly, secretly take another man’s life when necessary. Darian was quite capable of disposing of anyone he judged a threat.
Alberic would do the same, only without secrecy. He would simply challenge his enemy and then cut him down.
Such were the men her sisters had married—ruthless when they must be, and yet the most devoted of husbands and loving of fathers.
And she cherished them both.
As she was coming to cherish Rhodri, too.
In some ways he was much like her brothers-by-marriage—a warrior when he must be, yet gentle with innocent children. Would he also be a devoted husband?
He was most certainly an excellent lover.
She bit her bottom lip, well aware this line of thought wasn’t wise, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be Rhodri’s wife. To lie with him every night, live in the court of a Welsh prince as the honored mate of a pencerdd.
Useless musings, to be sure. They might have become lovers, but they would not become mates.
Nicole had never balked at having her husband chosen for her by her father or brother or, after their deaths, by her royal guardian. Rarely were women afforded the luxury of choosing their mates. Truth to tell, neither did men of a certain rank choose their wives. Marriage wasn’t a personal affair, but one of political alliance, or to otherwise benefit the involved families, or as a benevolent overlord’s reward to a favored underling.
She couldn’t marry Rhodri ap Dafydd, but she wished to marry someone like him. Solid and sure. Possessing the power of a warrior and heart of a poet.
Rhodri ap Dafydd was a rare man.
The inn came into view. In the yard, Darian stood near the stables in plain sight—the agreed-upon signal that the earl’s soldiers were gone, or that Darian had ensured the soldiers’ absence.
Rhodri glanced over his shoulder to look up at her. “Are you prepared?”
She smiled down at him. “More ready than you are, I suspect. I can assure you that Alberic is not so much a royalist that he would give you up to the earl.”
“Aye, well, Alberic was enough of a royalist to obey the king’s order to send you to Bledloe Abbey, and you are still Stephen’s ward. Are you not at all concerned that he feels compelled to hand you back into the king’s care?”
As they’d walked along the road this morn, Darian had related the tale of how he and Alberic had come to look for her, and Nicole was glad the reasons were more personal than political. And while she was sorry she’d caused her sisters to worry, she also took their concern as a sign she was loved.
“At the moment, Alberic is more concerned with easing Gwendolyn’s mind over my well-being than aught else.”
“To do that he must take you back to Camelen. What then, Nicole? Into whose care will his king demand he hand you over to next?”
She wanted to say that times were different, that Alberic was no longer so beholden to King Stephen. But she couldn’t truly know Alberic’s mind on the matter. Then she didn’t have time to think at all.
Alberic stepped out of the inn.
Kill him! Kill the whoreson who cut short my life and is the cause of all of your woes!
Her brother’s enraged words hit her like a blow, nearly unseating her. She lurched forward and clung to the horse’s mane.
She’d been prepared to hear the familiar order, and again she must refuse to heed her brother’s demand for revenge.
I will not kill Alberic. Go to your peace, William.
Release me to my peace, Nicole. Kill him! Kill him now!
Never. Never!
Remember how you loved me! Remember your grief at my death! Avenge me, dearest!
Oh, how well she remembered. Her young heart had inconsolably ached for her golden, beloved brother, dead on his bier, so dear and so cold. Her heart still ached, but not because of grief.
During the years since the one time she’d tried to obey her brother’s demands, had come so close to stabbing Alberic, she’d anguished over William’s inability to give up his anger and hatred, to see beyond his narrow-sighted, selfish, and unwarranted need for revenge.
Why couldn’t she find the proper words to force him to realize his folly?
Alberic killed you in defense of his own life! You attacked him in honorable battle. You unreasonably blame Alberic for being the victor in a fight he did not seek!
See him, Nicole! He wears no chain mail or sword! He is vulnerable! Kill him!
William wasn’t listening, not truly responding to her pleas for reason. He never did.
The hopelessness of his spirit being bound to the earthly realm, and her frustration over her failure to reach him, brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes.
Someone grabbed hold of her leg. Rhodri.
His mouth was tight, his eyes narrowed. “Are you in pain?”
Her physical reaction to William’s voice must have alerted Rhodri to her inner struggle, and while his touch and voice soothed her, nothing could make William’s malevolence less difficult to bear.
“Only heartsore,” she answered. “William rants at me to kill Alberic and refuses to listen to reason. I desperately want to help him move on, but I know not how to convince him.”
Kill Alberic! Use the dagger, Nicole. One swift strike to his villainous heart and I will be avenged!
Alberic is no villain. Have you no notion of how wonderfully he treats our sister Gwendolyn, or how fairly and prosperously he rules Camelen? Give over, William. I pray you. I beg o
f you!
Rhodri pulled her down from the horse. She clung to his tunic, shedding tears against his chest, grateful for those strong arms supporting her.
So easy to end our suffering, Nicole. Do it, do it now!
I cannot. I cannot.
Knowing she must silence her brother or suffer further, hating that she’d failed William this time, too, Nicole closed her eyes. In her head formed a stone wall, becoming higher and thicker, separating her from William.
Nay, Nicole! I will not be silenced! By the love you bear me, do not—
William continued to batter her defenses, as he would until she was once again well away from Alberic. Keeping the wall from crumbling would be an exhausting endeavor, one she willingly endured in order to have a few moments with Alberic.
From within the circle of Rhodri’s arms, she glanced at the two men who stood together in the inn’s yard. Darian made some comment to Alberic, who nodded in response.
Sweet mercy, if Darian had harbored any notions of how she and Rhodri had spent last night, he must now be sure of his conjecture. Had he told Alberic? Would he be angry, treat her differently now?
But then, however Alberic or Darian felt about her taking Rhodri as her lover wasn’t important. For the nonce, her body was her own, as was the decision of to whom she would yield its use. Until she must marry and was forced to bed a husband—and she didn’t much care whether that unknown and undesired husband objected to the loss of her virginity or not—she would do with her body as she pleased.
She pleased to allow Rhodri whatever liberties he wished to take, whenever he wished to take them.
Disinclined to give up Rhodri’s comforting embrace, but knowing she must, Nicole pushed at his chest. “We can go on now.”
Rhodri didn’t move, or release her. “Your brother does not talk to you, he attacks you. How do you bear it?”
Today’s attack had been particularly savage, more so than the last time he’d known Alberic within her reach.
On a humorless burst of laughter, she admitted, “Sometimes better than others.”
His gaze strayed over to the inn’s yard. “Alberic knew you would suffer and yet insisted he see you. The man is cruel.”
“Never that. You will see for yourself when you get to know him. Please, Rhodri, I have silenced William for the nonce but cannot hold him at bay forever.”
He let go of her then.
“We should just ride on past the inn,” he grumbled, but he tugged on the reins to lead the horse into the yard.
The nearer she came to the man William hated above all others, the more he pounded against the wall. Resolved to hold out against her brother, to not let him interfere with her reunion with Alberic, she stepped into Alberic’s open arms.
Alberic’s embrace was quick but heartfelt.
“You gave us a fright, little one,” he said gently.
“So Darian said, and he has already given me a lecture so you need not.”
“Aye, so he told me. Come into the inn. We need to talk.”
Talk. Which meant Alberic wasn’t yet set on the course he meant to take. If he’d already decided to take her to Camelen, he would have horses and provisions at the ready.
Nicole began to hold hope that they could all converse amiably, until Alberic pointed angrily, accusingly at Rhodri.
“And you, master bard, had best have a damn good reason for putting our Nicole in danger, or the next tune you strum will be to entertain the angels!”
Chapter Fourteen
Rhodri’s doubts over Nicole’s ability to hear the dead had vanished, cast out by the attack that had doubled her over and brought her to tears.
In the inn’s dim, stale, otherwise unoccupied taproom, he stood off to the side and sipped watery ale while Nicole and her brothers-by-marriage sat at a table and spoke of family matters—at Nicole’s insistence. Her foremost interest was in news of her sisters’ children, which the proud fathers were most willing to provide.
She smiled, but the lack of sparkle in her eyes and the fleeting appearance of furrows on her brow revealed how hard she fought to hold her brother’s voice at bay.
“And Gwen will give birth any moment now,” Nicole commented. “Truly, Alberic, you should not have left her.”
Unflustered by the scold, Alberic crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Nay, I should not have, but Gwendolyn and Emma will have no peace until they know you are safe.”
Alberic hadn’t spoken harshly, so Nicole’s wince made no sense until he realized what must be happening.
William had broken through her defenses and was no longer silent.
Before he could move toward her, Darian rose from the bench and held out his hand. “Come, Nicole. We have rooms upstairs. Best you rest for a time.”
Tears again welled in her eyes. She nodded agreement at Darian, then reached across the narrow table and placed a hand on Alberic’s arm.
“I am so sorry, Alberic.” She took a deep breath, her mouth tight, as if in pain. “You know I love you and would never harm you.”
Alberic didn’t move a muscle, purposely holding himself very still and quiet.
“I know, little one. I love you, too,” he said with a tenderness that, to Rhodri, didn’t seem possible for a man of his rank and reputation. “Go with Darian.”
She rose, and Rhodri fought to remain where he was, wrestling with the impulse to sweep Nicole out of the inn, steal a horse, and ride away.
But they would never make it out the door.
Nicole cast moist eyes his way and tried to smile. “You should play your harp while you talk to Alberic. Music always sweetens his mood.”
Her attempt to jest when in distress hit him in the heart and tightened his grip on the tankard. “I will keep your suggestion in mind.”
Without further word, she grasped Darian’s hand and allowed him to lead her up the stairs.
The thought crossed his mind that he might never see her again. Alberic intended to take Nicole back to Camelen, Rhodri was sure, unless he or Nicole could convince the baron otherwise.
Since Nicole was in no condition to argue the case, that task was left to him. Unwilling to feel the underling, Rhodri took the seat on the bench Nicole had vacated and faced Alberic squarely.
Where to start? What did Alberic most want to know?
“Nicole has come to no harm, I assure you, even though naught has gone as planned since I arrived at Bledloe Abbey.”
Alberic moved then, but merely to pick up his own tankard and take a healthy swallow of ale.
“Did we not believe Nicole willingly left Oxford with you, or that she suffered nary so much as a bruise, Darian would have slit your throat and left you where he found you this morn.”
Rhodri had no cause to disbelieve. The mercenary might well have succeeded, given the circumstances. Both of Nicole’s brothers-by-marriage were dangerous men, though Rhodri didn’t consider himself their inferior.
Still, he decided not to mention how he’d used Nicole to escape the tower cell, even though Alberic had probably learned of it from the earl’s messenger.
“Nicole came willingly enough. She was displeased with the earl for removing her from Bledloe Abbey and was most unhappy that the king planned to negotiate her marriage to a Welsh prince without consulting either her or you.”
“Nicole is the king’s ward. He has the right to negotiate her marriage.”
A slight tightening around Alberic’s mouth said he didn’t like it, either.
Darian slid onto the bench next to Alberic. Damn! How had he not heard the man come down the stairs or cross the floor? Rhodri knew how to move quietly, but Darian seemed to slip through air like a wraith.
Then Darian smiled and seemed human again. “Nicole fell onto the bed like she had never seen anything so grand before. She will try to sleep for a time and then join us for nooning, which she says she is greatly looking forward to.”
Rhodri managed to keep his stomach from growling at t
he thought of food, of meat—and at the memory of a certain pig he would dearly have loved to roast.
“Is it possible the innkeeper can provide pork?”
Alberic raised an eyebrow. “One would think you would not be particular in the victuals available.”
He wasn’t, and neither would be Nicole. However, the pork would surely jar her memory of the pig, perhaps make her smile.
“I ask only because Nicole has had a yearning for pork for several days. It would be a small thing to please her.”
Alberic nodded, and Rhodri didn’t doubt Nicole would have pork for her nooning if Alberic had to hunt down a pig and slaughter it himself.
“Why did Connor send you to Bledloe?”
Rhodri opened his mouth to tell the same tale he’d told everyone, even Nicole, then took a sip of ale instead, chagrined that he couldn’t bring himself to lie anymore.
His respect for both men had risen with each protective gesture and kindness shown to Nicole. Though the three were related only through marriage, she loved these men, and they loved her in return. They were her family, and far and above everyone else involved, they truly had Nicole’s best interests at heart. Even above her Welsh uncle.
Even above himself.
And both of these men were suspicious of him. One or the other would know the tale for an untruth. If he had any chance of convincing them to allow Nicole to go to Wales, then a true and full accounting might serve him well.
“When Connor received Gwendolyn’s letter, he realized what effect Prince Eustace’s death would have on your King Stephen and the war with Duke Henry. More personally, he berated himself for what he sees as neglect of his nieces when their father died. He expressed the wish that he had gone to fetch them immediately to save them from the king’s machinations in their lives.”
Neither man reacted unfavorably, even though neither would be married to Nicole’s sisters, the wives they now cherished, had the king not ordered those marriages.
Rhodri continued. “So Connor believes it is his duty to do right by Nicole, and he thought the best chance of success was to send me to fetch her.”
