by Jody Hedlund
I only wished I’d thought to grab a couple of sacks of food on my way out of the castle as well. I could have brought some of the bundles of provisions that Juliana and I had put together for the poor tenants on my land. It clearly wouldn’t have been enough. But it would have been more than they had now.
When I noticed that Juliana had given away her portions, I pushed my half-eaten pork into her hands. “Eat mine,” I insisted.
She glanced at the tender pink meat and nibbled her bottom lip. I didn’t care if I offended anyone by giving away my meal. I couldn’t bear to think that she’d go hungry.
“I ate enough at the dance to fill my belly for a week,” I joked, even as my stomach gurgled with the pangs of hunger.
“You’re sure?” she asked, peering up at me with round, trusting eyes.
I’d already taken a couple of bites and wanted to ravage it the way the other men were eating theirs. But I pushed the pork toward her, forcing her to keep it. “I’m absolutely sure. Now eat it.”
Without another moment of hesitation, she tore into the meat.
Over her bent head, my gaze connected with Bulldog’s. The man was gnawing a bone clean, but paused and nodded his approval at the sacrifice I’d made.
My chest swelled with strange satisfaction. I’d never had to make sacrifices before. Sure, I was finally giving something to my poor tenants and had instructed William to carry forth the delivery plans without me. But I hadn’t suffered as a result. The giving hadn’t really been much of a sacrifice due to my immense wealth.
However, tonight, I’d given something that, simple as it was, had cost me. I’d go hungry as a result. For a reason I couldn’t explain, I was more fulfilled than if I’d given away another diamond necklace.
After eating every morsel of the boar, one peasant man who’d had his eyes gouged out by Lord Wessex started a lively tune on his battered fiddle. Even though he couldn’t see, a gaping grin split his leathery face as he stared blankly at the men and women who were stomping and laughing and twirling.
Juliana pushed me into the mix, and soon I found myself laughing along with her as I stumbled to learn dances that were much livelier than anything I’d ever danced.
Breathless and laughing, I finally pulled Juliana to the fringe of the circle.
“Are we wearing you out, my lord?” she asked with a smile that was as wide and beautiful as the cloudless sky overhead.
“You could never wear me out.” I meant my words to be light and playful, but they came out filled with more longing than I intended.
Strands of her hair had come loose, and I wished I had the freedom to take her cap, toss it into the blazing fire, and burn it for good. I longed to see her curls spill over her shoulders and twirl as she danced. In fact, I wanted to pull her into my arms, bury my fingers in her hair, and let them get tangled there.
As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, her smile faded and her pupils widened. Her lips parted just slightly, and I could hear her intake of breath, almost as if she were waiting for me to draw her near.
Did I dare?
I started to reach for her, but a sudden flare from a burning arrow came from the distant forest and landed in the midst of the dancers.
Juliana’s body tensed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Our perimeter guard has spotted someone,” she said tersely.
The dancers stopped. The music screeched to a halt. And the children ceased their giggling and games. A terrible silence fell over the clearing, and all eyes fixed upon the burning arrow.
Then, before anyone could speak or react, Juliana strode toward the center of the circle. “This is the sign that it is time to end our feasting,” she said evenly and quietly to the group. “Remember, you must not leave a trace of evidence that we’ve been here, and you must stay on the deer paths as you return to safety.”
With her calm words of instruction, the peasants followed her lead in gathering their supplies, putting out the fire, burying the ashes, and covering the pit with windfall. Although an urgency filled their whispers, Juliana managed to keep everyone from panicking.
“You need to blindfold His Royal Highness,” Bulldog ordered Juliana as we raced along an invisible deer path.
I stopped to pick up the crippled boy with a crutch at the same time that Juliana hefted a lagging child to her hip.
“A blindfold won’t stop me from finding your secret passageway,” I admitted, sliding the lame boy to my back and slinging another small child across my shoulders.
Bulldog muttered under his breath, but stooped to assist an urchin in our race back to the caverns. Juliana sprinted ahead of us, disappearing into the darkness of the night.
“I hope you know,” I spoke over my shoulder to Bulldog, “I only want to keep Juliana safe.”
“Then leave. Now.”
“I want her to come with me.”
Bulldog growled. “She’s not going anywhere.”
I stumbled over a twig and strained to right myself. The two children clung to my cloak and the wool pulled against my throat, nearly choking me. But I jogged forward anyway, attempting to distinguish the path by the faint light of the moon.
“Do you want her running like this forever?” I managed. “This is no way to live. She’ll be better off and safer with me, and you know it.” A low twig whipped my face, stinging my skin, but I plunged forward anyway.
For several long seconds, Bulldog didn’t say anything. The crunch of our boots and our labored breathing were the only sounds that surrounded us.
When Bulldog finally spoke, his voice was harsh. “What are your intentions toward her?”
My intentions? I almost tripped. What would I do with Juliana if I took her back to my home? “I love her,” I stated simply. And it was the truth.
“If you want her,” Bulldog said, “then you’ll make her your wife first.”
Wife? I liked the sound of that. True, maybe she wasn’t the kind of woman I’d imagined I’d have by my side for the rest of my life. I supposed I’d always pictured myself with someone more like Lady Rosemarie—the fair-haired, beautiful lady whose heart I’d tried to win the past summer.
But perhaps Juliana was more suited toward me. She was bolder, braver, and clever enough to withstand my humor and playfulness. In fact, she had no trouble putting me in my place. I loved her quick wit and strength.
Yes, Juliana was the woman for me.
“I’ll marry her,” I said over my shoulder. “As my wife, she’ll never have to fear Lord Wessex again.”
“You’ll keep her safe, or I’ll come kill you myself.”
I chuckled. “You won’t need to worry about that. She’ll never want for anything ever again.”
Bulldog grunted. And I knew the matter was settled. My pulse thrummed with new excitement.
I was going to marry Juliana Wessex.
Chapter
13
I pulled the hemp cord of my bow taut. The sleek arrow with its feathered end fit between my fingers before I released the shaft into the blackness of the forest. Within seconds, the swift twang indicated I’d hit the mark.
“Dead center,” called one of the men who stood near the target.
I smiled triumphantly and turned to face Collin.
By the light of torches, he was a bronzed and rugged. His blond hair swirled over his forehead above his gleaming green eyes, and his lips curved to form a breathtaking grin.
“Let’s see if you can do better than that, my lord,” I said, standing back and waving at the spot I’d vacated.
“I don’t really think this is fair.” He peered through the darkness of the night.
“He’s scared,” Thatch said hotly. “His Royal Highness is scared.”
Collin bowed with the mock regality of a king, having endured the nickname with his usual grace and wit. Even though Collin had proven himself over the past week of living among us, Thatch still treated Collin like the enemy.
I’d been more t
han a little surprised when Collin joined in every activity as if he were one of us. He’d hunted, hauled water from the creek, and chopped wood without complaint. The children had quickly lost their fear of him and flocked to him for his teasing and grins and playfulness. Even Bulldog had stopped glaring at him.
Collin reached over and tousled Thatch’s already bristly hair. “I am scared. You have archery contests in the dark all the time. You’re used to this. But I on the other hand . . .”
Thatch batted Collin’s arm away and stepped back with a scowl. “You couldn’t hit the side of a deer even if it ran in front of you and asked you to shoot it.”
Collin laughed.
I narrowed my eyes upon Thatch. I hoped my young friend would read the message, that he needed to stop being so spiteful. But Thatch only shifted his face away from me, his sullenness even more pronounced than yesterday. Perhaps Collin had been correct in his assessment that Thatch was jealous.
We’d been like brother and sister for many years, even before my father had been killed and we’d had to flee to the forest. Thatch had always been my ready accomplice. He trailed me everywhere. He’d always told me he’d protect me.
And now Collin was stepping in and taking my attention.
“Maybe I need a few lessons,” Collin said, winking at me. “And since Juliana is obviously the best one here, I elect her to show me how it’s done.”
“The only lessons you need are ones in humility,” I replied, thinking back to the archery contest Collin had held and how he’d pretended to give me lessons. The idea of doing the same to him sent a shiver of pleasure through me.
“Since I’m such a terrible archer,” Collin said with sparkling eyes, “why don’t you blindfold me. If I am to lose, I might as well lose big.”
The other men guffawed. One produced a strip of cloth and tied it over Collin’s eyes.
Although Collin seemed to be enjoying himself now, he’d been reluctant to allow anyone to leave the underground cavern earlier that night, wanting us to stay inside while he investigated the region for signs he’d spotted of another intruder. I’d informed him that Uncle always had his soldiers out looking for us. We were accustomed to having to return to hiding at night when a soldier was spotted. Even with our assurances, Collin had taken time to scour the perimeter of our forest home before joining us for the archery contest.
I had no doubt Collin was more skilled than he was letting on. I’d witnessed his accuracy before. But in the forest, in the dark? Blindfolded?
He took his position, faced the target, and after standing for several long moments, he pulled the string swiftly and released his arrow. When Jack, the peasant man at the target, called out that Collin’s arrow hit dead center, I was as speechless as the other men.
Collin only laughed and challenged me again.
“I must see for myself,” I called, striding to the hidden target. “Perhaps you’ve paid our judge a purse of gold to rule in your favor.”
Collin started after me. “Maybe it was beginner’s luck.”
I trotted through the maze of trees and brush, dodging twigs and jumping over fallen branches until I reached the rings we’d painted on a bag stuffed with straw.
“Hit it fair and square,” Jack said, his gap-toothed grin radiating admiration toward Collin. “Right same spot too.”
In the darkness, I slid my fingers along the target until I found Collin’s arrow hole. It was slightly more on center than mine.
Collin’s breathing came over my shoulder and his arm brushed past mine. His fingers groped for the indentation on the target as well. “See, I told you I didn’t cheat,” his voice rumbled near my ear.
“Then I guess you do have beginner’s luck.” At his nearness, my breath came out choppy.
Collin cocked his head at Jack, who remained near the target. “Go back and tell the others that we tied. Juliana and I shall move the target back a dozen more feet and have a rematch. This time we’ll straddle the high branch of the oak.”
Jack gave a cheer and then raced off.
But Collin didn’t move. He remained where he was behind me, boxing me in with his arms. His mouth brushed my ear. “All week, I’ve been dying to find a way to be alone with you.”
I shivered with pleasure. “We shouldn’t be alone.”
“Just for a minute,” he whispered. Then he pressed his lips to my cheek. The warmth and softness of his kiss melted me, and I leaned backward into him. All traces of protest vanished.
“Remember when I told you I was falling in love with you?” he asked.
How could I forget? I hadn’t been able to think of much else.
“Well, I thought more about it.” He slipped his arms around my waist and drew me against him so that I rested in his arms, my back pressed firmly against his chest. “And I’m not falling in love with you.”
“You’re not?” I twisted my head so that I could see the outline of his face.
“No, I’m not falling in love. I’m already in love.”
“Oh.” The whispered word contained an embarrassing amount of relief.
In the faint moonlight, his smile had the power to render me speechless. “I love you, Juliana.”
The words drifted into me, warm and sweet, like the gentlest summer breeze, caressing my heart and whispering into my blood.
He searched my face. Was he looking for my response there?
I’d never met anyone like Collin, never experienced the depth of emotions I was having with him. After being with him all week here in the forest, I certainly couldn’t deny my attraction to him. But was this love?
He leaned in and his breath bathed my cheek.
I tilted my head back. If he wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t stop him.
His breath lingered above my lips for several long, sweet moments, and then he captured my mouth with his. His soft fullness moved against mine setting fireflies to flight in my stomach.
He broke away all too quickly, leaving me trembling and wishing for more.
I knew I should twist my face away, shouldn’t give him the chance to kiss me again, but I couldn’t move. And when he lifted a hand and smoothed his fingers over my cheek, I closed my eyes and basked in his love.
“Marry me.” His whisper was followed by a kiss to my forehead.
His words were so soft that at first I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him correctly.
“I want to marry you, Juliana,” he said louder, pulling back just slightly.
At his declaration, my eyes flew open, and I stiffened.
“I talked with Bulldog,” he rushed, his words urgent. “And he’s given me permission to ask for your hand in marriage.”
I started to shake my head, but the earnestness in his expression stopped me.
“Please, Juliana. Let me make you my wife and take you away from here.”
Tomorrow would be the end of his weeklong agreement. Although he hadn’t made any mention of leaving and I hadn’t wanted to bring it up, it was inevitable that he’d have to depart sometime. “Collin—” I started.
He pressed a finger to my lips to stop my protest. “You don’t belong here. You belong with me, where you’ll be safe and where I can take care of you the way you deserve.”
The snap of a nearby twig broke through my conscience. I jerked out of Collin’s arms.
There, only feet away, stood Thatch. He glared at us, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Collin and me. Hurt mingled with the stiff anger that twisted his boney features.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Thatch said, his voice tight. “You meet him, and now we’re not good enough for you anymore.”
“That’s not true,” I said, reaching for my friend.
But Thatch took a step away, his eyes shooting sharp arrows at my heart. “That’s fine. You just go on and marry him. I don’t care.”
“Thatch,” I admonished.
But he’d moved several more paces away from me. “Go on. Get out of here.” The boy’s voice cracked w
ith his emotion. Through the moonlight, I glimpsed the tears streaking his cheeks. “Just leave with your fancy nobleman. And good riddance.”
Before I could stop him or say anything more, he crashed into the brush and ran away.
I chased after him, calling him to stop, but he plunged farther into the thick brush. Finally, I stopped, my shoulders slumping as discouragement settled over me.
“He’ll come around eventually.” Collin had followed after me and stared at the spot in the dark woodland where Thatch had disappeared. “If he loves you, then he’ll realize, like Bulldog, that you’ll have a better life with me.”
“I can’t leave them.” The words fell from my lips before I could think. But once they were out, the painful truth hit me in the chest.
“They understand that this is no place for you.” Collin waved his hands at the dark forest and the lurking shadows. “I’m taking you home with me.”
“This is my home,” I stated. “And these peasants are my family now.”
“I know you’ve grown attached to them over the years. But you don’t belong here.”
“Where do I belong, Collin?” My voice contained all the frustration that had built during the past couple of weeks of experiencing both worlds, and of realizing that Collin had shattered my carefully crafted stereotype of all noblemen. He’d indeed won our bargain. “I don’t fit in with the nobility anymore. When I was staying with you, everyone knew I was different, that I wasn’t comfortable there.”
“You’ll adjust. It’s just been a while.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to adjust. After living this way and seeing the suffering of my friends, how could I ever return to living in comfort and wealth?”
“But that’s what you were born to. It’s your birthright. Nobility is in your blood.”
“I couldn’t live with a full stomach knowing my friends are starving. I couldn’t live in warmth knowing they’re freezing. And I couldn’t dress up in fancy gowns when I know they’re dressed in mere rags.”
