Peter. Logan hoped he had survived the attack. He thought how ironic it was that he spent months agonizing over his brother’s safety only to find Peter had chosen to work as a soldier in the enemy’s army. Peter has chosen his own path to travel, Logan thought. As have I.
Logan quickly pushed one of the stones set into the wall, and the wall slowly moved away from them, revealing a crack just wide enough for a man to pass. Logan moved through, pulling Solace with him.
His pace increased as he moved through the new set of tunnels. Barclay must know we’re gone by now, he thought. It won’t be long before he has men searching these corridors.
Finally, Logan pushed a wall open an inch, scanned an empty room and shoved the wall open farther. He signaled for Solace to wait, then dashed into the room and quickly grabbed a rope that hung on the wall before rushing back into the corridor.
When they finally emerged from the darkness of the secret passageways, they were in Alissa’s room. Logan quickly tied one end of the rope around the bedpost and fastened the other end around Solace’s thin waist. He couldn’t help but notice the curves of her shapely hips as he secured the rope, but he forced his attention to the window. He grabbed her arm and led her over to it.
“What are you doing?” Solace asked, a note of panic to her voice.
“I’m going to lower you down,” Logan told her. He felt her apprehension as if it were a tangible thing. “Don’t be frightened. I won’t let go.” He patted the window ledge.
She looked at the ledge, then at him. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Just when Logan thought she was going to protest, she stepped up onto the ledge. “Feet first,” he instructed. “Then just hold onto the rope. And whatever you do, don’t look down.”
The sounds of booted feet in the hallway caught Logan’s attention. He heard doors being opened and closed. “There’s no time,” he said. He quickly untied the rope from her waist. He turned his back to her and pulled her roughly against him. Logan had to fight the jolt that speared his body at contact with hers. He could feel her breasts pressed to his back, feel her small hands clutch his tunic.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Just hold onto me,” he said.
“Why?” she wondered.
“Do it. There’s no time to argue.”
She slid her hands beneath his arms and clutched his shoulders. Logan wrapped the rope around their waists and tied it tight, effectively binding her to him. “Hang on tight,” he advised, hoping the danger would ease the passion that was beginning to stir his blood. He gripped the rope tightly, climbed onto the ledge and turned to face the room.
Solace’s feet hung over the side. She squeezed her eyes closed, whispering, “Don’t fall.”
Every muscle in Logan’s body strained as he lowered himself and Solace over the window ledge. As they descended the wall, Logan felt Solace’s grip tighten. He tried to ignore the scent of roses teasing him as a cool breeze blew a strand of her hair before his face and around his neck.
The rope burned into his palms, and he struggled to keep his grip. He used his feet to guide them down the wall. Halfway down it, the muscles in his arms and shoulders felt as if they were on fire. He paused to glance down at the ground and muttered a curse when he realized how much farther they had to go. His palms began to sweat. In the moat below, he saw rows of logs spanning the brackish waters. He knew that during the siege Barclay’s men had filled in part of the moat with sand and rock and had created a bridge with the logs so they could cross. He never thought he would be thanking Barclay for their escape route.
Solace gasped loudly and he felt her grip falter. She slipped down an inch, jerking him hard.
He braced himself against the wall, stopping their descent. “Hold on,” he commanded through clenched teeth.
Solace clutched desperately at him, grabbing at his tunic.
When Logan had his balance again, he continued downward. Finally, after what seemed like hours, his feet touched the ground. He quickly undid the rope, freeing Solace.
Suddenly the cry of his falcon sounded in the air above him, its shrill call sending a shiver of alarm racing through him. Without thinking, Logan grabbed Solace’s hand and dashed for the logs that filled the section of moat in front of them. The logs shifted beneath their feet as they raced across them.
The first arrow missed Logan’s head by inches, lodging in a log at his feet.
But the second arrow came closer to the mark.
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The arrow pierced Logan’s tunic, ripping through the fabric near his ribs, barely missing his skin. Logan pulled Solace close as they cleared the moat, quickly leading her into the trees bordering the west end of the castle. But he didn’t stop there. He continued his breakneck pace through the woods, dodging trees, sidestepping bushes, splashing through small brooks. All the while, Solace followed silently, keeping pace.
They reached a stream and Logan plunged into the water, planning to throw any pursuers off their trail. He trudged a great distance in the chilly brook before he glanced back over his shoulder to see how Solace was faring. She had raised her skirt up to her shins, the hem of which was soaked. Her slippered shoes were heavy with water, and her bare skin was pink from the cold.
Logan glanced down at his warm, booted feet. He quickly moved back to her, scooped her up into his arms and continued on despite her protests.
We need to find horses, Logan thought. He chanced a look at the woman in his arms, only to find her staring at him, a scowl on her face. When she saw him looking at her, she glanced away, into the direction they were heading. He caught himself studying the soft outline of her face, the delicate arch of her neck. The dark rings underlining her eyes were in sharp contrast to the pale complexion of her face. We need to get sleep, he thought. For, even though adrenaline pumped through his veins, he felt the beginnings of fatigue sapping his strength.
Suddenly, Solace turned those brilliant green eyes to him and it was Logan’s turn to look away.
“Where are you going?” she wondered.
“For now, just trying to make a path the guards won’t be able to follow,” Logan answered, emerging from the stream and setting her feet on the ground beside an old oak tree.
“Westhaven is only a day’s walk that way.” She pointed south.
Logan’s gaze followed her finger as if he could see the town.
“I have friends there who might be able to help,” Solace added.
Help. Every nerve in Logan’s body tensed. Yes, he thought. Help you. Leave me to rot in some dung heap. “I think we’ll head in this direction,” he said, moving north.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “I said I knew people who could help hide us.”
“I’m not here to escort you to your destination,” Logan snapped angrily. “And I don’t intend to hide like some frightened kitten.”
“You said you would see me to safety!” Solace shouted.
Logan spread his arms wide. “Here you are.”
Solace gasped at him, anger flaming her cheeks. “You’re going to leave me here?”
He shrugged. “You can travel with me.”
“You... you unchivalrous lout!” she shouted. “I should have known I couldn’t trust you! Not after what you did!”
Logan approached her, his jaw tight with leashed fury. She backed away from him until she bumped into a tree and could retreat no further. “Let’s get one thing straight. I did what I had to do. The same thing you would have done had you been in my place.”
He expected her to shiver and cower before his rage as he towered over her like some angry ogre. What he didn’t expect was the sparkle of tears in her bright eyes.
“I never would have betrayed someone I...” Her words faded.
A frown creased Logan’s brow as he found himself gazing into the most spectacular eyes he had ever seen, eyes bright with courage and defiance. A shadow of sadness haunted them
, and something else. Fear? What had she been about to say?
Her tongue traced her lips before she finished with, “I never would have done that to you.”
Her declaration cut into his resolve, slashing a hole in the wall he had built around his heart. No, he knew with certainty she never would have done that to him. With the realization came a tidal wave of regret. He battled through the wave with his anger, trying not to drown in those green waters that flooded from her eyes.
His gaze lowered to her sweet lips. He had tasted their honeyed depths before, had sought comfort in her arms as he’d devoured them. But he knew he could never do that to her, or himself, ever again.
“I don’t need your friends’ help,” Logan snapped, turning away from her and heading into the forest again.
“We’re in no position to turn down any kind of help. We have no food, no water, no –”
“I’ve gotten along fine by myself,” he said, fighting the logic to her thinking. She wanted him captured. Would her friends set a trap for him? Protect her and send him to Barclay? Could she now betray him? Had she changed that much? He knew that was what he would do if he were in her position. “Are you coming?”
For a long moment, he didn’t hear anything. Then, he heard her footfalls and knew she was storming after him.
***
Solace shivered as the night wind snaked its cold fingers around her. She glanced for the thousandth time at Logan. He sat across from her, his back to a tree, his long legs stretched out before him. He had found a long, thick branch on their travels and now his new staff lay at his side within easy reach. Darkness had fallen over an hour ago. If she weren’t so cold, Solace knew she would be able to sleep, regardless of whether or not she was in her own bed.
But she was freezing. Logan had informed her there would be no fire so as to not attract any unwanted attention. In addition to being cold and tired, she was hungry. She had been trying for what seemed like forever to dig out a root with the dagger, but the stubborn thing wouldn’t let go of the ground. She had pulled at it, chopped at it, but she just wasn’t strong enough. The relentless wind laughed around her, encircling her in an icy hug. She shivered, sitting back, exasperated.
She looked at the dagger in her hand. It wasn’t enough. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes, wishing she had some stronger tool. She needed help. A rumble moved across her stomach as if it were alive. Solace stood and stared down at the root. Damn thing! She kicked it before turning and heading for Logan.
She wiped the dirt from the dagger on her black skirt as she moved closer to him. His hands were folded over his stomach, his head resting comfortably against a tree, his long legs outstretched as if he were in a bed. She stopped at his side, gazing down at him, watching the slight rise and fall of his chest. She absently turned the blade over in her palm. A breeze ushered her forward, and she swallowed her pride as she bent down to touch his shoulder.
Logan’s eyes flashed open, full of suspicion and recrimination. He snapped his wrist toward her and easily slapped the dagger from her hand. “Branding’s not good enough, eh, Solace?”
She pulled back, surprised and shocked. She rubbed her smarting fingers, staring at him in total bewilderment.
Logan grabbed the dagger off the ground and stood, slipping the thin blade into the belt at his waist. “You don’t mind if I hold onto this for you, do you?” He tapped the dagger’s leather-bound handle. “I wouldn’t want you to accidentally cut anything you weren’t supposed to.”
Confusion washed over her. “Why did you hit my hand?” she asked.
“Did you think I would just lie here while you slit my throat?” he growled.
“What?” she gasped. “I -- I wasn’t going to slit your throat. I wanted...” His words penetrated her bewilderment. She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “I’m afraid I’m not as bloodthirsty as you.” How could he accuse her of a thing like that? She wasn’t the one who had betrayed him. She smiled coldly at him. “Although, it’s not a bad idea.”
Logan took a threatening step closer. “Then what were you doing with the dagger? Contemplating giving me a shave?”
Solace raised her chin, refusing to budge a step. “How dare you accuse me of lying! All you have done is lie to me. Use me for your own vile purposes. It must have been very hard for such an accomplished lover to pull the wool over a virgin’s eyes!”
“Virgin!” Logan exploded. “You were no virgin.”
Solace tried to keep his hurtful words from cutting her. “I have been with no other man,” she proclaimed, facing his accusations with all the bravery she could muster.
“There was no blood,” Logan said, but doubt had crept into his words. “All virgins bleed.”
“Not this one,” she replied and turned away from him. Whore, harlot, slut. The words of her sister and her stepmother echoed in her memory. She couldn’t explain the fact there had been no blood. And she knew Logan would never believe her. He would think the same thing Alissa and Beth had. So what did it matter?
Everything.
She returned to the tree, sat down and drew her knees up to her chest. She was just as cold and hungry as she had been when she’d approached Logan. But now she was without a dagger.
The root sat there in the ground at her feet, half dug out, refusing to release its hold on the life-giving earth.
As Solace laid her head on her knees, a tear trickled over her cheek.
***
Logan stood over her, watching her sleep. She was curled tightly in a ball, on her side, shivering. Most women would have broken down by now, crying out against the injustice of the world. They would have lost their will to fight.
Moonlight washed over her small frame, caressing her with a pale kiss, giving her more warmth than her mother and sister, giving her more tenderness than he had bestowed upon her. In the shadows of the night, he felt hidden, free to explore his feelings. And as he stared at her, an emotion rose within him so strong that it threatened to choke him. In her small body, Solace possessed more courage and determination than most knights he had known.
Logan thought back to her declaration of innocence. He had never heard of a virgin who did not bleed. But as he thought back on their encounters, there were other things, other signs, which now seemed to confirm her inexperience. The way she had first kissed him, with reserved passion. Everything she had done had been filled with an innocent curiosity. That was what had drawn him to her. Now it was more than that. He admired her defiance, her will, her strong spirit.
A chill breeze wrapped Logan in a blanket of cold. They had brought nothing from Castle Fulton. No blankets, no food, no water. They had fled only with the clothing on their backs.
A caw came from the tree above him, drawing Logan’s attention. His falcon was perched on a branch to their right, drawing one of its legs up under itself to sleep.
“Wretched beast,” Logan grumbled, even though he was secretly glad to see the falcon. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”
He turned his dark gaze back to Solace. She was everything a man could learn to love, to care for. But he was not any man. He had no time for tenderness, no time for love. He had to get his castle back. He wouldn’t let himself fall under her spell, not the way Peter had. Peter. Had he survived yet another siege? Logan’s heart ached for his brother, for the kinship that could never be.
He turned his back on Solace, but as he walked away he couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder.
***
The warm sun streamed in through Solace’s bedroom window, warming her face. She turned her head to the sunlight and a sharp pain flared in her back. Something was sticking her in the spine. She reached under her to discover it was a solid chunk of earth. Her arm brushed the dirt from beneath her. Then she realized that in her room the sunlight didn’t reach her bed. She opened her eyes to see a canopy over her, but it was not the soft velvet canopy of her bed; it was a crisp canopy of leaves.
She had not been dreami
ng. Her castle was in the hands of Baron Barclay. Alissa had been brutally killed. Beth had welcomed the enemy into her bed.
The wind whistled around her, its icy breeze kissing her body, weaving its way beneath her skirt. She pulled her skirt over her feet to block it out. Then she sat up, her gaze searching the trees for Logan.
He wasn’t there. He had left her. The thought didn’t shock or surprise her. Then why did she feel disappointed? She rose, using the tree as support. Logan had done what he said he would. He had seen her safely away from Fulton. There was no reason for him to remain with her. There was not an ounce of chivalry in him. In that strong body. The body that had hovered over hers before he’d filled her with his manhood, sating the desire and passion that had seized every part of her. The body that had protected her from the arrow attack.
“Solace?” Logan called.
She whirled, surprise and guilt written on her face. She gaped for a moment, then masked her look, afraid he was able to read every one of her thoughts.
Logan walked up to her, his hands cupped in front of him. “Here,” he insisted, nudging her with his fingers.
She dropped her gaze to his hands, her cheeks flaming. Her mouth dropped open. But not in agony or embarrassment over her unkind thoughts of his desertion. In wonderment. In his cupped hands were berries. She pooled her skirt into a pocket and Logan deposited them into her lap.
Her stomach grumbled in anticipation as she popped one into her mouth. Sweetness exploded on her tongue, and she chewed the berry slowly as if she were savoring the most delicious delicacy from France.
When she opened her eyes, she found Logan gazing at her. The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes confused her. She hadn’t seen that look since he’d bedded her in his room days ago. A heated flush crept into her cheeks. She quickly indicated the berries with a nod of her head. “Eat,” she suggested.
A wry smile formed on his lips as he studied her berry-stained mouth. “I already have,” he replied.
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