“Do not try me, wife,” he warned dangerously. He made to move past her, but she stepped in his way. She was surprised he didn’t just push her aside.
“You are a fool,” she flung at him. “You are so very, very stupid that I find it inconceivable you can find your way out of our chamber every morn. You give in to your hate and bitterness and throw all happiness away.”
“That happiness is false. It is merely a figment of man’s fantasy.”
She considered him for a minute, the disgusted look on her face betraying her feelings. “That is the most idiotic, senseless and asinine piece of refuse that I have ever heard!”
She continued, seeing his look of astonishment at her passionate rebuff. “You are angry with your mother? Is that what ails your spirit? Fine. I know not the cause, it might well be a good one. But I have done nothing to hurt you. I have been faithful and kind to you, no less!”
“Women—”
“Do not speak to me of women!” she shouted, stamping her foot. “You know nothing of women! They are much the same as men, husband—some good, some bad. We are speaking of me. I, Alayna, am no liar, and I have never deceived you. Have I ever given you cause to doubt me?”
Lucien said nothing.
“Nay, I have not!” she supplied. “Though judging from your comment in the hall just now, you have set your imagination to conjuring up some intrigue between Will and myself, but it is simply not true.” She stopped, panting and shaking from her indignation. She forced herself to calm, taking a deep breath. Momentarily she began again, this time softly, pleadingly.
“I know you are in pain.” He looked away as if unable to bear her words. “Whatever your dame did, it is over. She ruined your life once, do not let her do it again.” Gentler now, encouraged by his silence, she approached him. “Lucien. Husband. Please do not put me aside. We had come so far.”
His face remained closed, and he stepped away from her. When she moved toward him again, his head snapped around, showing his fierce expression. “Leave me,” he demanded angrily.
Tears sprang to her eyes. Shaking her head as if to say no, that she would not leave him, she did nonetheless, too ashamed of her pitiful weeping in the face of such staunch and unfeeling anger. She whirled, running down the stairs at breakneck speed, choking back the sobs until she could get herself out of earshot.
To go where? She could not rejoin those in the hall. Though they were friends all, she could not return to them in such ignoble defeat.
She was sobbing uncontrollably now. Her feet carried her swiftly out through the inner gatehouse that led to the remote courtyards. Wanting to be away from everyone, she kept running. She had no destination, no thought other than finding solitude in which to indulge her grief.
It was the end. She had been defeated. She knew nothing she could do would unwind the stifling bonds around Lucien’s heart. These shackles were too deeply entrenched. His heart had been bound with bitterness and rage years ago, and Alayna had no power to unfetter those huge and cumbersome chains.
Tired and out of breath, Alayna collapsed against a wall and gulped in great amounts of air. How she wished she could just keep running until the pain could no longer reach her. But no distance nor interval of time would lessen its grip on her heart.
Suddenly she felt strong arms close around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. Her first thought was of Lucien—he had come after her! For a brief instant, a tremendous joy leaped to life in her chest. She cried out his name and spun around.
A dirty hand came down over her mouth. Her heart thumped in panic as she met the gray eyes of a foul and filthy stranger who held her captive in his grasp. He was smiling, revealing a mouthful of rotted teeth. The sight made him look macabre and sinister, causing Alayna’s stomach to lurch in terror.
“Make no sound, ‘ear?” he muttered. “Imagine this, the lady ‘erself! Me lord is goin’ ta be mos’ pleased, mos’ pleased, aye!”
She kicked him hard, landing a sharp blow to his shin.
“Stop it, ye lousy chit. I’ll cuff ye!” the disgusting man warned. She did not stop, frantically trying to free herself. She sank her teeth deep into the calloused flesh of his palm.
“Aagh!” he cried, snatching his hand free. Alayna drew a breath to scream, but was stopped by the stunning force of her attacker’s hand striking her face. “You bitch!” he snarled. “I came to spy and found me a prize. I’ll not give it up easy.”
With that declaration, he drew his fist back and suddenly her world exploded into a thousand stars, blinking and dancing for a brilliant moment before fading into a deep, dull void.
Lady Veronica was waiting for her daughter’s husband when he reentered the hall. She had much to settle with the overbearing Lord of Gastonbury, her anger and tenacity showing in the determined set of her fragile features and the squaring of her shoulders. As he approached, she stepped up before he could pass her. “A word with you, please,” she said curtly.
Lucien cast her a reluctant look, grudgingly nodding his assent. With serene poise, she moved over to the deserted hearth to insure some privacy.
“Please,” she said, still calm, indicating that Lucien move closer. He complied.
“I have much that is pressing,” Lucien stated stiffly.
“I will be brief,” she countered, revealing a bit of her own hostility. She regarded him critically for a moment, eyeing him from head to toe. Never having been so thoroughly assessed by a woman, he felt inexplicably uncomfortable under the detached perusal.
“You are handsome, I suppose that is what she sees in you. Though your manner of command is also greatly appealing, or would be to the impressionable girl my daughter is.”
Lucien frowned. Alayna an impressionable girl? She had been a hellcat full of fire and spite when he met her, impressed not in the least with him.
She continued, “But you are mean-spirited, and I cannot have this marriage.”
His eyes narrowed at the attack. He opened his mouth to speak, but the small woman waived a dainty hand at him, dismissing his words before they were spoken.
“Oh, Alayna has begged me to reconsider. Eurice even agrees with her, and Mellysand, who I have come to trust and respect, speaks your praises. But I have seen none of these noble qualities they boast of. Moreover, your viciousness comes from your dame, I am given to believe. Aye, I have made it my business to learn about you and your family. It is regrettable that you do not emulate your father more, for I have heard naught but praise for him. But you favor the caustic ways of your mother.”
The undeniable verity of her words settled over him like a slow, numbing frost. His mind careened and the truth hit him like a perfectly crystallized blade of ice, sharp and vivid and real.
He was behaving exactly like his mother.
Veronica continued, “I know that as a boy you were misused, but you are a man now, and as such you make your own choices. I have no admiration for the kind of man you are—a brute.”
The man he was. His father, his noble and good sire, would be shocked and sickened by the man he was.
A tightness closed in his throat and he felt himself trembling.
Veronica did not notice his change. “That bodes ill for Alayna, for a man who hates women is no man to place your love in. ’Tis unfortunate, is it not, that she has misplaced that tender emotion? ’Tis the only reason that I even considered her pitiable entreaties, because she told me she loved you. There is no hope for it, but she will recover, I pray, and with the blessings of the Lord, she will love again. I will make sure that her next husband will be suitable, for no doubt she will consider herself sorely abused by my interfering…”
Veronica’s voice faded as Lucien felt his world narrow, converge and suddenly coalesce into one unbelievable thought.
She had begged her mother to remain with him. She had spoken of love. How could she still want him after all that had passed between them? And had that not been what he had secretly wanted, for her to leave him in s
afe, wretched loneliness?
But she loved him.
Why had he not known it? Though she had not said the words, she had patiently waited out the storm, and when he had snubbed her, striking out in his pain, never once had she turned away from him. She had chastised him, begged him even, to make peace while he had so stupidly clung to his dark humors, ignoring what was painfully clear and freely given.
He had wished never to be a fool for a woman. Yet, fool he had been.
Suddenly he was filled with the same contempt for himself that Veronica so openly displayed. He made a strangled sound, sinking down on one knee, half in sorrow, half in weakness from the gut-wrenching shock.
Taken aback, Lady Veronica stopped speaking as he grabbed her slender fingers and folded them in his large hands.
“My God, you are right to revile me,” he said in a choked voice. “I did not see. I could only think of my past, of my family. I thought it was so simple.” He lifted his head. “But it is not simple. And it is not easy. To hate, that is easy. To love…to love is the hardest thing I have ever done.”
He saw her surprise in the rounding of her eyes, the drop of her jaw. “Aye, I do love her. It should be a joyous thing, to love somebody as I do your daughter. For a while it was. But you were right about my mother.” How could he explain what it was that had happened when he had faced her, when he did not understand it himself? “Seeing her again terrified me. I feared what I feel for Alayna—I thought it would make me weak. If you know of my father, then you know that he was blind to my mother. In a way, I think I am as furious with him as I am with her. I swore that would never happen to me the same way.”
“But Alayna would never hurt you,” she said softly.
He nodded. “I know it. Aye, I know it. And I also know that weakness is not in loving but in fearing to love.”
Kneeling, she placed a soothing hand on his cheek. She smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Drawing him into her arms in a soothing embrace, she held him as a mother holds her child, be he boy or man, to ease his pain.
“You must make it up to her. You must go to her and tell her what lies in your heart. I have pushed her to put your marriage aside and return to London with me, and I believe she is coming to agree with that decision. Waste no time, Lucien, for you have caused her great hurt. You must make it right.”
Together they rose, and Lucien drew her hand to his lips in the romantic Norman tradition. He caught her eyes, and Veronica nodded encouragingly.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
When Alayna opened her eyes, she found herself staring into a pair of brown ones not more than a handsbreadth away. Her focus widened, and she took in the small upturned nose, pretty, pouting mouth and dark hair. Glenna!
She tried to sit up, only to discover she was bound. The girl chuckled.
Glancing around, she saw that she lay on a cot against the wall of a sparsely furnished one-room dwelling with a dirt floor and mud walls and the high arch of the thatched roof stretching over her head.
Glenna bared her teeth in what was supposed to be a smile. Silently she brought up her hand, showing a small pile of powder cradled in her palm. Alayna looked at it curiously, instinctively fearful. Poison?
Glenna suddenly blew into her palm, causing the powder to scatter into Alayna’s face. Gasping in surprise, she inhaled the dust and immediately felt the soothing effects of the drug as a languid numbness spread throughout her limbs. She fought the pull of it as it dragged her down into black oblivion. She heard Glenna’s laughter from far away and a single word. “Sleep.”
Then no more.
* * *
Lucien was growing alarmed at his failure to find his wife.
Immediately the thought she had run away again pressed foremost in his mind, but he dismissed the idea quickly. She would not run away when all she had to do was give in to her mother and she would be well rid of him.
She had been upset when last he had seen her—blast his own cursed pride!—and he thought it likely she had sought some solitude to ponder her wounded heart. In that case, he knew not where to look, for he had no idea where she found privacy when the need arose. So he simply looked everywhere.
Agravar joined the search, and Pelly, and Will, and eventually no one was idle as they scoured the innards of the castle for their mistress.
With growing dread, Lucien commanded a troop of men saddle up their mounts. The sentinels could report no notice of Alayna’s having left, but on the chance that her exit was missed by the posted guards, and because there was nowhere else to look, they readied a party to ride into the forest.
No one thought to mention the cart that had left several hours earlier, laden with goods and drawn by a weary and aged donkey. It had been driven by a grizzled man, stooped and filthy, all alone and surely of no account to the whereabouts of Alayna of Gastonbury.
Just as they were preparing to leave, a village youth brought a message. He said a man, a stranger, had given it to him along with a shiny gold piece saying the lad was to deliver the missive only to the master of Gastonbury. It read simply, “I have her. Come alone to Silver Lake. Tomorrow at noon.”
Lucien shook as he read the words. His hands fisted, crumpling the brittle piece of parchment as he barked out a quick order to have his stallion returned to the stables and the destrier brought out.
“What is it?” Agravar prodded.
“I am to go to Silver Lake. Alone.”
“It may be a trap. Lucien, for God’s sake, we do not know what we are up against here.”
“We?” Lucien questioned. “This is for me to deal with, Agravar.”
“You are certainly mad if you think I am going to let you go alone—”
“Do not question this, Agravar. Alayna’s safety must come first. Know that if you disobey me, you will lose our friendship forever. I have got to meet this brigand on his own terms.”
After a moment, the Viking nodded. “Aye, I swear I will not disobey your wishes. But if you do not return soon, I am coming after you.”
“Give me until the next sundown, then pursue. I know not what to expect, I may need time.”
“Not too much,” Agravar conceded reluctantly.
Will came up behind them, his concern all too clearly written on his face. “You go alone?” he asked. He was silent at Lucien’s curt nod.
Agravar walked away, too impatient and restless to converse any longer. He commenced pacing back and forth, leaving the two men standing across from each other. “I know you love her,” Lucien said abruptly.
Will did not speak, nor did he move. Carefully he answered, “Her heart belongs to you.”
Lucien nodded, wondering at his own daftness. Did everyone know of his wife’s feelings but himself? A page came forward with his destrier. Lucien swung astride the mighty beast.
The horse pranced restlessly. Agravar came up to hold the reins briefly, just long enough to say his farewell, fiercely and fervently. “A-Viking.”
Lucien answered the same, then kicked his steed into a full gallop and rode through the gate. To Silver Lake, to meet whatever and whoever had taken his beloved wife and to bring her home to reclaim the cherished love that he had so foolishly trifled with.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Alayna regained consciousness again, she was alone in the hut, surrounded by deep silence. Her head ached. A sharp throb in her temples caused her to wince. She discovered she was no longer bound and immediately sat up.
She cried out as her limbs protested. How long had she lain in the same position? Her muscles felt impossibly heavy, making movement painful.
She remembered Glenna and froze in sudden fear. She glanced around frantically. She was terrified of the girl, for she believed Glenna was truly mad in her hatred. And here she was, at her mercy.
The room was empty save the cot she had been lying on and some cold ashes in the hearth. No chairs, no cupboard—nothing. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, showing a few footprints. The
re were no windows, but light filtered in through the cracks between the planks of the walls, so Alayna knew that it was daytime.
She was starved, but there was no food, nor was there any water. A quick inspection of the door and shutters showed them to be tightened fast. She shoved and pulled with her failing strength before admitting there was no way for her to flee.
Easing back down on the edge of the cot, she thought of Lucien and wondered if he was looking for her or if he counted himself well rid of her. She thought of her mother and the harsh words they had spoken last.
She had to believe that he would come for her. He had promised her that once, and she had believed him. But now, after his change of heart, could she still believe?
She had to.
She held onto that hope as darkness fell.
The scraping sound of a key in a lock woke her shortly after dawn. She sprang awake instantly, scurrying to wedge herself in the corner.
Glenna came in first, followed by an old man Alayna recognized as the one who had taken her from Gastonbury. Glenna gave Alayna a smug look as she assessed her captive cringing, terrified, in the corner.
“She is awake. Give her the food, Jasper.”
The smelly old man came forward, and Alayna shrank away.
“She does not like you, Jasper,” Glenna shrieked, a sharp, cutting sound.
“It don’ matter, girl,” he cackled. “Ye think she don’ like me, jes’ wait till she sees the master.”
“Hush,” Glenna snapped, truly angry. And a little afraid, Alayna saw. “He told us not to speak of him.”
A stale loaf of bread was thrust at her. Though she was loath to take the food from his grimy hands, her stomach would not permit her to indulge her pride. She snatched it, tearing off handfuls immediately and stuffing them into her mouth, trying not to think about the filthy old man having handled it. “May I have water?” she whispered.
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