“You will do everything I say on our wedding night and for every day after.” He bent his head toward her lips, releasing her hand.
Solace ducked under his arm. “But until then I’ll do as I please,” she called, fleeing the battlements.
Barclay started to follow, a twisted smile on his lips, a smoldering heat in his eyes.
Suddenly, a hooded monk stepped into his path, accidentally bumping his shoulder, halting his movement.
When Barclay turned enraged eyes on the monk, the hooded man humbly bowed before him. Staring down at the top of the monk’s brown hood, Barclay bit back his condemning remark; he ground his teeth and lifted his gaze to see his prize had escaped.
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Solace stood at the back of the chapel, staring impassively up the aisle at the golden altar where Father Davis stood. His back was to her, his head bowed. He was clothed in a brown cloak, the hood drawn up over his face, giving him the appearance of one of the visiting monks. She clutched at her hands so they wouldn’t shake, only to find they were as cold and frigid as icicles.
Monks lined the pews and the walls of the chapel. Barclay’s men were everywhere as well. It looked as if every visitor and every invader had come to see the wedding.
Fitting, Solace thought. She knew Barclay had placed his men in the room just to be sure she didn’t change her mind. She shook her head. It was too late to change her mind. She would not turn back.
When did I become so bitter? she wondered as she started up the aisle. When did I turn into Logan? Her footing was sure and steady, even though a piece of her heart broke with each step that brought her closer to Barclay. The white dress she wore was plain, a white houppelande, belted high just beneath her breasts. The white was a mockery of her lost virginity, but she couldn’t wear black, even though it would be as dark and hopeless as she felt. Not until after she had wed Barclay. Not until the lands were his. She had to complete that one task as vengeance for her father.
The baron waited for her at the front of the aisle, dressed in a bright red cape lined with fur that made him look like one of Satan’s minions. He wore a black tunic and hose beneath the cape, and his sword was belted around his waist. But it was his eyes that snared her attention as she neared; they were bright with victory.
She reached the front of the chapel and Barclay extended his hand. Solace ignored it, a final defiance, and turned toward Father Davis.
She heard Barclay’s chuckle, but paid him no heed. Instead, she concentrated on the way Father Davis was clutching the altar. His knuckles were white and the veins on the back of his hand bulged against the surface skin, as if he were struggling to crush the sculptured metal of the altar in his fingers. Then he stood, rising to his full height, and slowly turned to them, the cowl hiding his face in a shadowy pool of blackness. He slowly came down the two steps before the altar.
The room was silent. Solace waited, desperately trying to still the quickening pace of her madly beating heart. In mere moments she would be lady Barclay, and there was nothing she could do now to stop it. This was sheer madness! What was I thinking? She wanted to scream as the true horror of her predicament slammed into her. She wanted to shout at the top of her lungs and drive a blade through Barclay’s black heart. She wanted to yell a curse on Logan’s twisted soul. But all she could do was lower her head and close her eyes for a moment, fighting the dizzying swirl of emotions whipping through her like an uncontrollable tornado and praying it would be over quickly.
When she opened her eyes Father Davis was standing before them. Her gaze was drawn to his clasped hands. They were strong and firm. But his hands should have been wrinkled with age, puckered by his decades of service to God.
Solace looked up, her eyes wide, trying to see past the darkness of the shadows.
Suddenly, a strong hand shot forward and seized her arm, dragging her away from Barclay!
Barclay raised confused eyes, just in time to see the shape of the man disguised as Father Davis throw back the cowl to reveal the face of Logan Grey!
Logan drew the sword that had been hidden behind his cloak and pressed the tip to Barclay’s throat.
Solace couldn’t move. Logan. His name pulsed through her mind with each beat of her heart. Logan!
“We meet again, old friend,” Logan ground out between clenched teeth.
“You traitorous bitch!” Barclay howled, his eyes locking on Solace. “You trapped me!”
She opened her mouth to deny his accusations, but nothing came out. Instead, she let an overwhelming relief course through her.
“You’re a damn fool!” Barclay spat out, his gaze shifting to Logan. “You’ll never get out of here alive.”
“That’s where I think you’re wrong,” Logan replied. “Tell your men to lay down their arms and surrender.”
A smile split Barclay’s lips, and laughter churned from his throat. “One man against dozens? I think not.”
The corner of Logan’s lips curled into a grin, and he nodded his head at one of the pews. The chapel erupted in a frenzy of motion as the monks in the pews and in the aisles threw aside their cloaks to reveal Logan’s friends! Solace recognized Blade’s blond head and Goliath’s tall form in the front row.
Barclay’s guards drew their swords and the thunderous clang of a hundred swords clashing rang out in the chapel. The sound was deafening.
They had come to take the castle! For a moment, disbelief rocked through Solace. Without trebuchets, without battering rams, they had infiltrated the castle. The plan was impulsive, ingenious and admirably brave.
Solace turned her gaze to Logan, a powerful pride welling up inside her... until the image of Logan shoving his sword into her father’s chest speared her mind. Hurt and betrayal and anger replaced her joy. She clenched her teeth and shoved the traitor hard, fleeing toward the door at the side of the altar.
She glanced quickly over her shoulder to see Logan recovering from her shove, saw him cast a frustrated glance at the fleeing Barclay before turning a dark look on her. She continued to run, hiking the layers of her skirts over her knees to achieve full speed.
She reached for the handle of the door, pushing the wooden barricade open, and ran into the small, stone alcove. Spiral stairs rose up to the next floor. Behind her, the door exploded open and Logan shot through it, grabbing her wrist and whirling her around. Shocked, she couldn’t move for a long moment. He was before her, staring at her with smoldering gray eyes.
Solace began to struggle, fighting to free her wrist. He glared at her, stilling her useless battle by pressing his body against hers. Fire ignited throughout her as his breath mingled with her own. “Get away from me!” she commanded.
He pressed her back against the wall, shoving his body closer to hers. “I should slit your traitorous neck,” he growled, but bent to press a kiss to her tender throat. “If it didn’t mean so damn much to me.”
Stunned, Solace couldn’t move. His head rose until he stared her in the eyes. She found it hard to breathe with him so close. She had forgotten how beguiling those silver eyes were, how warm his body was. Part of her fight left her under the hypnotic effect of his presence. His laughter rumbled through her, prickling her nerves. And she missed him. Part of her was dying, for she knew she would yield to him, even though he had killed her father.
“My stubborn little Solace,” he whispered. “Your plan would have worked if I wasn’t so determined to claim what was rightfully mine.”
Fulton. The old argument, the old vengeance that had killed her father, sparked her anger into a disconsolate inferno and Solace renewed her attempts at escape, pounding his massive chest, trying to step on his toes with her foot. Pain flared through her heel as it slammed against his hard boot. Tears burned in her eyes. “All you care about is this castle! Your revenge! Well, it’s complete now! My father’s dead!”
“Dead?”
“Your vengeance is complete! You should feel proud!”
“Solace, it ended in Cavindale.”
She stilled her fight and stared up into his steel eyes. Pain flooded through her. She nodded. “When you killed my father. I saw you kill him.” She fought back her tears. “I saw you.”
Logan stepped back, releasing her. She knew she should run, but the weight of her convictions pressed down on her like stone. She couldn’t move as he studied her face, taking in every detail. His face softened suddenly, relaxing as understanding spread across his features. “He’s not dead, Solace,” Logan whispered.
“What?” she gasped.
“I didn’t kill him,” Logan admitted. “I couldn’t do it.”
“But I saw you.”
Logan shook his head. “I wanted to kill him. Lord, how I wanted him dead. To avenge my father. To avenge my mother. But the only thing I could think of was what it would do to you. The hurt I would see in your eyes.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it. Not in the face of that.”
“My father’s alive?” Solace gasped.
Logan nodded. “He’s alive.”
“But I saw you stab him with your sword…”
“I only stabbed dirt and grass.”
“But you could have had your revenge.”
“I don’t want it anymore,” Logan threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t even want Fulton anymore.” He lowered his head to gaze into her eyes. “All I want is you.”
Solace stared at him, her heart beating wildly, her hopes soaring.
Logan raised a hand to trace his fingers tenderly over her cheek. “You’ve put more faith in me than I have in myself. You loved me when I couldn’t even love myself. It took me a long time to realize it, a long time to put aside my anger. You are everything I have ever wanted.”
Solace opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She was so happy that tears rose in her eyes.
“I love you, Solace,” Logan whispered.
Suddenly, the wall beside Solace moved and Barclay appeared beside her, grabbing her arm, entwining his hand in her hair, yanking her against him like a shield! “Is this man bothering you, dearest?” he whispered harshly.
Solace cringed as Barclay pulled her hair tighter. Logan lunged forward, but Barclay placed the blade of his sword to her neck.
“Ah-ah,” he warned. “I’d hate to slip and hurt such a treasure.”
Logan straightened.
Pain flared in Solace’s head as Barclay tugged harshly on her hair, dragging her back into the darkness of the passageway.
“Don’t follow me, old friend,” Barclay said. “Or I’ll kill her.”
Logan watched with growing fury as Barclay disappeared into a secret passage behind the alcove wall. He crushed his fingers into tight fists, squeezing them tighter and tighter until the muscles in his arms ached with his anger, until his entire body shook with outrage. He whirled away from the wall and raced back into the chapel, speeding through the chaotic swirl of fighting men filling the large room. One of Barclay’s men stepped in front of him, brandishing a blood-soaked blade, defying him to continue. Logan plunged straight into the man, growling like a savage animal, baring his teeth in a feral snarl, swinging his sword with a ferocity that no man could match. The guard went down.
Logan sped on, racing out of the chapel and into a long hallway. He shoved aside an ornate tapestry hanging on the wall and disappeared into the secret passageway hidden behind it. His heart pounded in his chest. He had never been more scared in his life. The possibility of losing Solace forever terrified him more than anything had ever terrified him in his life, more than his first fight with Goliath when he nearly lost his own life, more than seeing Farindale’s army approaching his father’s castle those many years ago.
He ran through the darkness, slipping several times on the mossy floor in his frantic drive to reach Solace.
The narrow corridor reeked of mold and decay. And death. He ran faster, his breath exploding from his lungs, his blood hammering in his ears. He knew where the passageway emerged; the exit was up on the northern tower of the castle. He could reach Barclay through the battlements. He emerged from the passageway just outside the spiraling steps of the tower. He charged up the stairs and out onto the battlements.
As Logan sped across the battlements toward the north wall, the wind whipped his hair around his face. Above him, dark clouds churned in an ominous black sky. He rounded a corner in the walkway to see Barclay and Solace already emerging from the passage. Solace attempted to break free, lurching forward, but Barclay caught hold of her dress and dragged her back.
“Barclay!” Logan shouted, his angry voice rising above the shrillness of the wind.
Barclay turned to face him, keeping his sword at Solace’s throat.
Logan’s eyes narrowed as he recognized the blade in Barclay’s hands. It was his father’s, the blade he had entrusted to Logan, the blade he had given his son in recognition of his emerging manhood. Again, Logan’s body shook with rage, a tremor rippling through him. “Let her go,” he ordered, surprised at the calmness of his voice.
Thunder rumbled in the sky above.
Logan approached slowly, the strong wind blowing the hair away from his eyes, slapping at his clothes, trying to push him back from Solace. But no force of nature could keep him from her.
Barclay held the sword to Solace’s throat, the lashing wind blowing her hair around her face, into Barclay’s eyes.
“Let her go!” Logan repeated, deadly intent in the rumble from his throat. “It’s me you want.”
Lightning flashed behind Logan as thick black clouds continued to roll across the sky.
“I have no interest in you and I never did,” Barclay called back. “Now back away or she is dead.”
Logan stiffened. If he backed away now, Barclay would escape. If he didn’t, Barclay would gladly slit Solace’s throat. Logan took a step back.
Suddenly, his falcon swooped down from the ominous sky, its claws outstretched, its screeching cry drowning out even the loud blasts of thunder coming from the black clouds above! The falcon clawed at Barclay’s head, scratching at his eyes with its sharp talons. Barclay shrieked in shock and fear. He shoved Solace away from him, arcing his sword at the bird. The falcon fluttered away, easily avoiding Barclay’s attack.
Solace screamed as the force of Barclay’s push sent her hurtling toward the castle wall. A brilliant flare of lightning burned into the sky, forever searing the image of Solace toppling over the battlements into Logan’s mind.
He lunged for Solace as she fell over the edge, dropping his sword as he moved. His fingers somehow managed to find and encircle her slim wrist, but the sudden weight in his grasp pulled Logan down sharply and his stomach slammed into the stone wall, knocking his breath from his lungs. He felt her flesh slide along his fingers.
“Logan!” Solace cried up at him, her face tight with pain. Below her, far below her, the ground was littered with sharp-edged stones. No one could survive a fall from the battlements.
“Hold on!” he shouted down at her. The wind whipped around them, buffeting Solace’s body with strong gusts, knocking her into the stone wall again and again. His fingers ached with the strain of holding her. “Hold on!” he shouted again. Logan clenched his teeth and began pulling her up toward him, his muscles bulging and rippling with power as he tugged. He managed to pull her up high enough so she could grab onto the edge of the castle wall.
That was when he heard footsteps rushing up behind him.
Logan turned instinctively, releasing Solace, moving away just in time to sidestep Barclay’s swing. The blade smashed into the castle wall, chunks of stone spitting up mere inches from where Solace clung for her life. Solace screamed as tiny bits of rock showered her, and Logan saw her grip slip as her body dropped a foot back down the outer wall.
Quickly, he put his foot to the Baron’s chest and shoved him backward. Barclay stumbled away from him, then fell, the blade tumbling from his grasp.
Logan scooped up his father’s
sword, his sword, and stood before Barclay. He gripped the blade tightly in his fingers, the weapon now an extension of his being. He moved toward Barclay.
“Just back away,” he told the Baron.
But Barclay grabbed Logan’s dropped sword and stood tall before him, meeting his stormy gaze with a dark stare of his own.
Logan glanced to his left to see Solace struggling to keep her grip on the castle wall. “Logan,” she called to him, her eyes beseeching him for help. She was between the Baron and himself. If he made a move to help her, Barclay would cut him down. He had to get him away from Solace.
“Now, we finish this,” Logan snarled as he attacked, slamming his sword down onto Barclay’s, driving the Baron back, away from Solace. He fought desperately, knowing that each second that passed brought Solace closer to her death.
The wind churned around the two fighters, pulling at their clothing. Thunder rumbled in the gray sky above them. Logan drove Barclay back and moved toward Solace, but Barclay swung after him, forcing Logan to engage him again. They crossed swords, Logan’s face a grimace of agony as Solace called out to him again.
“What’s wrong, old friend?” Barclay wondered through gritted teeth. A flash of lightning revealed a grotesque, distorted grin splitting Barclay’s face. “Distracted? You’d better hurry. It looks like she’s slipping.”
Logan shoved off, swinging with all his might. Barclay blocked the blow, but the force of the strike dropped him to his knees. Logan lashed out with his boot, kicking his foe solidly in the face. Barclay tumbled back to the ground as blood spurted from his nostrils. He howled with outrage, holding his fingers to his bleeding nose.
Logan turned away from his fallen enemy and raced back for Solace. He grabbed her under her arms and pulled her over the wall, up onto the battlement. “Are you all right?” he asked gently, holding her up as her trembling legs buckled beneath her.
Solace nodded, clutching at him. She looked up into his eyes --
Box Set - Knights of Passion (7 Novels) Page 94
