by Jody Hedlund
The rebellion lasted for weeks. But in the end, Uncle’s well-trained and well-armed soldiers overpowered the rebels. My father had been mortally wounded and had lain bleeding to death upon the dirt floor of our thatched peasant home. By then I’d been almost a woman, a young girl of fifteen. My father’s best friend and fiercest warrior, Bulldog, had finally tied me up and dragged me from my father’s side kicking and screaming.
If I’d stayed any longer, Uncle’s men would have captured me too. My fate would have been the same as Father’s—cruel torture and death. Instead, Bulldog had promised Father he would take me to safety and protect me. Rumors were spread from town to town that I had died of illness shortly before my father’s capture, and we’d prayed the deception would work. Bulldog had even created a false grave, in case my uncle should require some sort of evidence.
“I’ve been living in the forests ever since,” I finished. My shoulders slumped and my head bent, the defeat of the past weighing heavily upon me.
“So that means you’ve been living in the forests for two—almost three—years?” His voice was hoarse, and his face lined with fierce anger.
I nodded. “But I’ve survived. Bulldog taught me everything he knew. And now I’m stronger than most men.”
“And you’ve had to steal to survive.” He spat the words bitterly.
My loose hair fell over my shoulders and covered my face, hiding my shame. There were times, like this, when I knew my father wouldn’t have been proud of the thief I’d become. Through all his trials and difficulties, he’d never resorted to thieving or breaking the law. He’d always insisted upon doing things the right way, in a way that pleased God.
But look where his noble ways had gotten him.
I tried to conjure the usual anger, to make myself hate my uncle and Edgar. But for some reason, with the heavens open above me, I couldn’t summon the usual bitterness. I only felt empty. And sad.
With a sigh, I shifted away from Collin. But before I could extricate myself, he reached for my face and cupped his hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look down at him.
“You’ve been gravely wronged by your father’s brother.” His eyes were hard. “Let me help you fight against your uncle and restore what’s rightfully yours.”
I shook my head. Nightmares still haunted me, nightmares of my father’s mutilated body, along with the horrors I’d seen soon after. Uncle hadn’t with stopped at torturing my father—he’d also made a spectacle of burning to death all the other peasants he’d captured, all the brave people who’d participated in the uprising. I’d watched with Bulldog and Thatch from the confines of the forest, inwardly screaming as the agonized cries of so many friends and neighbors rose into the air. How could I bear to witness such a cruelty ever again?
“It’s safer this way,” I said in a low voice. “My friends and I will be fine as long as my uncle believes I’m dead.”
Collin shook his head. “We can fight him.”
“No.”
“I can raise a large army. I can even call upon the Duke of Rivenshire.”
I started to pull away from Collin again, but he only drew my head down toward his so that my face was mere inches away. My hair hung like a curtain around us, shielding our faces but still allowing light from the brazier to glow upon us.
His hand slid to the back of my neck, digging deeply into my hair. His gaze dropped to my lips. And his breath grew ragged and brushed against me.
Suddenly thoughts about my past, all the pains and frustrations, disappeared. All I could think about was how close I was to Collin, how I could lower my face the merest fraction and feel his warm breath even more.
I liked the intense hold he had on the back of my neck. I liked the way his fingers had splayed on my cheeks, caressing my skin. And I couldn’t keep from studying his lips, slightly parted—almost as if he was planning on kissing me.
The smallest amount of pressure of his hand on my neck bent me closer so that my lips had no choice but to brush against his. At the brief contact, a popping erupted in my belly, like dry wood in a firepit. When he lifted his head from my lap and pressed his lips against mine with more urgency, I was helpless but to respond. I let my lips move against his for an endless second.
At a clearing throat near the turret doorway, I gasped and sat back, breaking the connection with Collin. I scrambled to my knees, heat spilling through me in a confusing disarray.
Collin too hastened to put distance between us. He climbed to his feet and jammed his fingers into his hair—almost as if he were frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry.”
I rose to my feet, my chest heaving as I worked to catch my breath.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He cocked his head toward his steward by the door. “That’s exactly why I’d asked my most trusted servant to stay. To act as a chaperone.”
I couldn’t bear to look at the servant. I’d never kissed a man before. Never even thought about it. How had I lost all reason now? With Collin?
Collin nodded at the older man. “Thank you, William.”
The servant cleared his throat again. “Just doing what you asked me to, my lord.”
“I guess this will be our one and only midnight picnic,” Collin said with a shaky laugh. “I’m apparently not quite as self-controlled as I thought I would be.”
I nodded, growing more embarrassed by the second, and started toward the door. But I only made it a step before he grabbed my hand and halted me.
“Do you forgive me?” His face was haggard and his eyes pleaded with me.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Collin,” I said, forcing lightness into my tone. I didn’t want him to see how much his kiss had affected me, how much I’d liked it. “We were caught up in the emotion of the moment. That’s all. Let’s not make anything more of it. It meant nothing.”
He studied my face. “Very well.” Disappointment edged his voice.
I slipped my hand out of his and continued toward the doorway, unable to meet the gaze of the servant standing there. And I was unwilling to let Collin see my face again for fear he would know that the kiss was something. Something very special. It meant much more than I could ever acknowledge.
Chapter
10
I was losing the challenge.
I fingered the bulges in the velvet bag, the hard ridges of the gold coins. Then I trailed my fingers over the diamond necklace, against the smooth, glittering stones.
Only one day left, and I would be able to take the gold and the jewels and leave.
With a curt shake of my head, I pushed in the small drawer of the wardrobe, shutting the riches out of sight.
The night I’d arrived at the castle, I truly had believed I’d never stop loathing Collin. But after his kiss the previous evening, I couldn’t deny the truth any longer. I liked Collin Goodrich. In fact, I liked him very much—so much that every time I thought about the midnight picnic and the warmth of his lips against mine, I wanted to swoon. And I was certainly not the swooning kind of girl.
It wasn’t just the kiss that had me second-guessing myself. It was everything about the time with him: how he’d tried so hard to please me, to find something I’d enjoy; how we’d been able to talk openly; how I’d finally been able to bare my soul to someone, to share the deep pains of my past. He’d listened and understood me, and he’d even been angry over the injustices I’d suffered.
“William is here to escort you to the ball, my lady,” Mistress Higgins said behind me.
I straightened and smoothed the skirt of the loveliest gown I’d donned yet. When Mistress Higgins had held up the mirror after assisting me and fixing my hair, I almost had refused to look. But I’d finally given in to the need to see myself. I’d told myself only to scoff. But at the reflection of an elegant lady, I’d stared in amazement. I hadn’t recognized myself in the dark, rich plum gown. Maybe for tonight—just tonight—I’d allow myself to forget about reality. Maybe I’d pretend that this was my life, that Father was
still alive, and that Uncle had never come.
“Are you ready, my lady?” Mistress Higgins asked again, gently tucking one of my stray curls up into the high, elegant knot at the back of my head.
“You’re a dear woman.” I squeezed the woman’s gnarled hand. “You’ve been much too kind to me.”
“It’s been my pleasure to serve you, my lady.” Mistress Higgins smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners of her perpetually wrinkled face. “Since your arrival, Lord Collin has finally been happy. You’re apparently just what he needed.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” If only Mistress Higgins knew who I really was.
As I accepted William’s arm, his eyes widened behind his eyeglasses. Although his expression gave nothing away, I couldn’t keep from wondering how much he’d overheard of my conversation with Collin the previous evening on the tower. He’d been a fair distance away. And Collin had claimed the man was his most trusted servant.
Nevertheless, I should have used more caution in sharing so much about my past in his presence.
“My lady,” William said kindly, tripping over his feet as we started down the passageway that led to the Great Hall. “You look lovely this evening.”
“Thank you, William. Much better than when I arrived, no doubt.”
He stumbled again. And I could only pray he was truly as dependable as Collin said.
I glided along, the soft strands of music from the ball already wafting into the far regions of the castle. I found myself anticipating the dance. Even though it had been years since I’d attended an event such as this, I was sure my feet would easily fall into the rhythm of the many dance steps I’d learned in the past.
When I arrived at the doorway of the Great Hall, my heart swelled with the music and my eyes feasted upon the couples who were already swirling. The trestle tables had been pushed against the walls to make more room for the guests. The rush mats had been strewn with fresh herbs, which now rose to perfume the air under the crushing feet of the dancers. And the wall sconces and large hearth fire lit the room, making the jewels that studded the garments of the noblemen and ladies sparkle.
As if he’d been watching for my appearance, Collin stopped mid-sentence while conversing with a group of guests, including Lady Irene. He excused himself and crossed toward me, his face alight with admiration.
“I’ve been waiting to see you,” he said when he stood before me. His gaze caressed my cheeks, my nose, and then my lips.
Heat flared in my stomach. Was he remembering our moment in the tower?
When his eyes lifted to mine, the hue was dark, almost pine green. Everything within the depths proclaimed his memory of our kiss and his wish to do so again.
I pressed my hand against the satiny fabric at my stomach, warding off the strange fluttering. “You only saw me two hours ago. Surely you aren’t anxious to see me again so soon.” We’d spent most of the afternoon dividing up the goods William had purchased to give to the neediest families within the Goodrich lands. Collin had suggested making bundles and packaging one for each family, consisting of food, blankets, wool cloth for sewing into garments, and an assortment of other items. At first, I’d suspected Collin was suggesting the charity to impress me. But as the afternoon progressed, I could sense a genuine desire in him to understand what my life as a peasant was like and to help those less fortunate.
“Every minute away from you is too long,” he said. “But it’s been worth the wait, because you’re the most beautiful woman here.”
“You say that every time I see you,” I teased, hoping to lighten the moment and make us both forget about the attraction that was growing with each passing day.
“I only ever tell the truth, my lady.”
I was relieved when he grinned and held out his arm.
“Ah, Lady Eleanora.” Lady Irene crossed toward us. “You look very nice this evening. Purple is a becoming color on you. It goes so well with your red hair.”
Something in the way Lady Irene said the word red made me flinch inwardly. Was she mocking my hair color as Collin had childishly done so long ago? Or was there something more going on?
“You look very nice this evening too, Lady Irene.” I eyed her silky blue gown. “ ’Twould appear that blue is a good color for you, since it goes so well with your yellow hair.”
Lady Irene’s brow shot up at the comment. She hadn’t been overly friendly with me that week. She’d clearly not approved of the gift bundles Collin was orchestrating, and I suspected she thought I was encouraging him in the endeavor—which, indirectly, I was.
But I only smiled with what I hoped conveyed innocence.
Collin chuckled. “I must warn you, Irene. Never say anything about Lady Eleanora’s hair color, unless you wish to find yourself with a new enemy.”
Lady Irene managed a strained half smile. “Since you’re finally here, Lady Eleanora, why don’t I take you around and introduce you to some of our newly arrived guests.” She slipped her arm into mine as if we were sisters and tugged me away from Collin.
As we stepped forward, the crowd parted—and that was when I saw them. I froze, suddenly paralyzed. My heart stopped. And my breath caught.
There, only a dozen feet away, stood a tall, older man without one strand of gray in his raven-black hair. His noble face was pockmarked, almost scaly—ravaged from a childhood illness. And he was attired in the pristine white tunic and breeches he’d always worn.
It was none other than my uncle.
Standing next to him was Edgar, his face a much more handsome version of Uncle’s. He was laughing at something one of his companions said, but when his gaze alighted upon Lady Irene, his smile smoothed into one more calculated and clever.
I wrenched away from Lady Irene and spun. My heartbeat slapped against my ribs like the rapid flapping of hawk wings. I had to get away. Now. Before they recognized me.
“Lady Eleanora?” Lady Irene reached for my arm. “Whatever is the matter? Are you ill?”
I couldn’t respond. Bile swirled in my stomach, and for an instant I thought I’d be able to honestly answer Lady Irene that, yes, I was indeed going to be sick to my stomach.
At the sight of my face, Collin’s mouth creased into a frown. When he peered in the direction of Uncle and Edgar, his brow dropped into a sharp scowl. He grabbed my arm and began to steer me toward the door.
Lady Irene hastened after us. “Lady Eleanora, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I told you not to invite George Wessex and his son,” Collin shot at his sister over his shoulder. “In fact, if I remember correctly, I strictly forbade it.”
I stumbled next to Collin, my pulse pounding with the frantic need to escape from the room before Edgar or my uncle spotted me. I wasn’t afraid, was I? Hadn’t I told Collin I never feared anything?
But dressed as a woman, attired in finery and with only my hunting knife buried beneath my skirt, a reminiscent twinge of panic rushed through me—the same kind of fear I’d had that day so long ago, when Uncle had ridden into the inner bailey of Wessex Castle, unsheathed his sword, and ordered my father to leave.
Irene followed us out the door and into the hallway. “I don’t understand why you’re suddenly opposed to having Lord Wessex and his son attend our parties. Haven’t I made it quite clear to you that I favor Edgar for a match? That he’s one of the few noblemen who presents a worthy option for my dowry?”
“You disobeyed me, Irene.” Collin’s voice was sharp and his face taut with anger. “I told you not to invite them, and you did so anyway.”
“I didn’t think it would make any difference,” Irene offered in a placating tone, as if she realized she’d pushed her brother too far. “I didn’t know their presence would disturb Lady Eleanora so much. In fact, I didn’t realize she even knew them.”
“You don’t have to understand everything. But I still expect that while you live in my home, you’ll follow my instructions.”
Lady Irene’s eyes narrowed. “Edgar is
almost my betrothed.”
“Not anymore.”
“You cannot decide for me—”
“I have every right to decide.” Collin’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s my job to protect you.”
Lady Irene lifted her chin.
Collin turned to me and his features softened. “Will you be all right?”
I took a deep breath and tried desperately to bring myself under control. “I shall be well enough once I have a breath of air.” All I wanted to do was get away from the Great Hall, away from Lord Wessex and Sir Edgar and any chances that they might recognize me.
The rational part of me knew I had nothing to worry about. It had been years since they’d seen me. Nevertheless, I felt oddly bare. My fingers clenched with the need for my bow and arrows. After the cruelty I’d witnessed from my uncle and cousin, I wouldn’t dare stand in the same room as them without the means to protect myself.
I WAS TEMPTED TO TELL MY GUARDS TO ESCORT GEORGE Wessex and his son off my land. I sorely wanted to tell the black-hearted thieves to leave and never come back—after I gave them both the beating they deserved.
But I couldn’t do so without arousing suspicion. Already, Juliana’s strange behavior and subsequent absence had caused enough gossip among the guests. I’d forced myself to stay through dinner and several dances so that I wouldn’t bring further attention to her. Even though my muscles had ached with the need to grab Lord Wessex around the throat every time the man had spoken, I’d feigned politeness.
Like the other guests, Lord Wessex had inquired after “Lady Eleanora.” But thankfully he’d rapidly lost interest in her, and instead had focused all of his attention on Irene and Edgar. He kept laying hints about how much they liked one another and what a lovely match they’d make. I wanted to tell him I’d never in this lifetime or the next give Edgar permission to marry Irene. But I decided that I’d save that conversation for another evening.
