Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me

by Lana Williams

  *

  Elizabeth started up the stairs in the keep, thinking to check on William after her visit with young Edgar. But the smithy’s wife’s words taunted her, weighing her down, a cadence to match her every step. A terrible thing. Just terrible.

  No more than halfway up the stairs, she halted and pressed her hands over her ears to make the chant stop.

  The idea of another afternoon spent staring at William was more than she could bear. She couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t. The optimistic mask she’d held tightly to for so long had been torn off, ripped away by the words of the blacksmith’s wife. Looking at William lying there pale and still was like holding up a mirror to reflect another of her failures.

  Tears welled in her eyes and a lump burned in her throat. She leaned back against the cold stone of the stairwell, trying to catch her breath. The walls of the keep seemed to press in on her.

  Perhaps what the woman had said was true. She was a terrible person. Somehow, she brought a black cloud of foul luck with her wherever she went. Her desertion of William at the gate had been done to protect her father, never to harm William. Yet how could anyone understand the desperation that had filled her once she’d realized William was innocent?

  No one could.

  Nicholas’s accusations of her attempting to seduce him joined the taunting of the woman’s words.

  Do not lie to me.

  Terrible thing.

  Again, she covered her ears with her hands, but still the words came, each phrase striking her anew. Stifling her sobs, she turned and fled back down the stairs. She had to escape even if only temporarily. Each breath she took scorched her throat.

  “Lady de Bremont?” Walter called to her from the great hall.

  Without sparing him a glance, she ran past the hall entrance to wrench open the heavy door of the keep. Down the steps she flew and across the bailey. She didn’t stop until she’d arrived at the stables.

  Young Thomas poked his head out of a stall with a pitchfork in his hands, his brows arched at her sudden appearance. “My lady? Were ya needin’ your mare?”

  “Aye. Please.” The answer left her lips before her mind arrived at an answer. That was exactly what she needed. A long, hard ride would clear her mind and let her breathe. Surely it would ease the tight band across her chest.

  Thomas flashed a shy grin and bowed low as color stained his cheeks. He set down the pitchfork and stepped around her to move toward a stall farther back. “I’d be happy to saddle her for ya. She’s a fine horse, my lady.”

  Elizabeth listened to him prattle to the horse and found her breathing had already eased. The tranquility and quiet in the stables, the familiar smell of horses and straw, all brought her comfort. In a matter of moments, she’d be free for a short time, and that gave her peace as well.

  Thomas was even quicker than she’d hoped. He soon had the mare ready and led her forward to where Elizabeth stood waiting. “It’ll rain soon, my lady. You won’t be gone long?”

  The idea of impending rain held no worry for her, but she didn’t want the boy to fret. “Not long. I’ll be all right.”

  “I’d be happy to go with ya. The lord would have my hide if anything happened, my lady.”

  Elizabeth doubted that. “I’ll be fine,” she said as she ran her hand along her mare’s withers then gave her a scratch between her eyes. The horse snuffled in her palm and jerked its head in greeting. A large wooden block served to help her mount, and she adjusted her skirts to cover her legs as best she could.

  She thanked Thomas and rode toward the gate.

  Much to her relief, the portcullis was raised, and she passed through quickly, waving to the guards as she left. She had no desire to make up an excuse as to why she needed them to open the gate.

  She hadn’t given any thought as to which direction she’d take, but the road curved downhill, and she followed it as she looked over the rolling, wooded hills before her. A few cottages were strewn outside the curtain wall, their tofts boasting green grass and gardens here and there that held the promise of new growth. In the distance, she could see villagers in the fields, their backs bent low over the brown soil.

  Already, her spirit lightened. She continued on the road for a short distance, and then took a narrow path that followed the edge of the trees along the valley floor. The sun was bright overhead and felt reassuring on her shoulders. The scattered gray clouds didn’t worry her one bit.

  Her mare seemed as pleased as she was to be out in the countryside and pranced between a fast walk and a trot, tossing her head. Since she had no particular destination in mind, Elizabeth let the horse lead the way.

  Deep breaths of the clean, fresh air eased her heavy heart. The scent of pine cleared her mind. She avoided the dark depths of the forests for the undergrowth looked too dense to traverse through. At last, the narrow trail opened up into a long meadow, and she gave her horse its head. The mare needed no urging and launched into a thundering gallop.

  Laughter bubbled up in her chest to replace the tears and self-pity she’d felt earlier. The mare ate up the ground with long strides. The wind itself was invigorating, as was the speed at which they flew.

  At last, she reined in her horse as they neared the end of the long valley and caught her breath from the exhilaration of the ride. She resolved to escape the keep every few days so that she might retain her sanity.

  As she turned her horse around to start back the way they’d come, the coolness of the air caught her attention. More time had passed than she’d realized. The sun was hidden by clouds now and no longer provided the warmth she’d enjoyed. A quick glance at the sky showed she’d underestimated the chance of rain. Well, a little moisture wouldn’t harm her. As long as thunder and lightning didn’t make an appearance, all would be well.

  She kept the mare to a trot and lifted her face to the cool drops. The rain felt cleansing, washing away the last of her grief and tears.

  Unfortunately, she still didn’t know what to do, how to navigate the waters of this situation in which she found herself. Perhaps she should continue to try to convince Nicholas to have a real marriage. Her heart had skipped a beat when he’d touched the babe with a look of wonder upon his face. More than anything, she wanted him to look at their babe like that.

  But such a moment might never come to pass. Perhaps she should let the marriage be annulled as her aunt had suggested. She wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore, but her desire no longer mattered.

  The only option open was to make the best of her circumstances, to do the right thing each and every day, whatever that might be.

  The gate of Staverton was still not visible. She’d ventured farther than she’d meant to. The clouds were an odd blue-white color, which she knew didn’t bode well. As large, cold drops began to pelt her, the wisdom of finding a place to stay dry struck. But where?

  She’d caught a glimpse of a small cottage tucked in amongst the trees not far back. Perhaps the occupants would allow her to seek shelter until the rain passed.

  *

  Nicholas chuckled as the greyhound puppies tumbled over the top of each other in an energetic attempt to garner his attention. He’d stopped by to see the new litter on his way back from the falconry to check on the repairs there. One brown and white spotted pup was especially persistent even though it seemed smaller than the rest.

  Never underestimate the runt of the litter, he thought.

  He scratched its ear and received slurps of its tongue in return. He wondered if Elizabeth would like this one for the keep or if she’d prefer to pick one for herself.

  “Lord de Bremont?”

  He looked up to find Stephen walking toward him with Thomas in tow. The boy looked worried. “What is it?” Nicholas asked as he rose.

  “Lady de Bremont hasn’t returned,” Thomas announced as he wrung his hands.

  Nicholas frowned. “Returned from where?”

  “From her ride, my lord,” Stephen added.

  “Her ride?
” Nicholas knew he repeated the words stupidly, but he couldn’t grasp what they were saying. A short distance away, he saw Walter striding toward him.

  Thomas looked up at Stephen, his large eyes clouded with worry.

  Stephen cleared his throat. “She went for a ride earlier this afternoon.”

  “To where?”

  Stephen glanced at Thomas. “She didn’t say.”

  “And you let her go? You just let her ride out of the gate unescorted?” Nicholas asked Stephen. His anger built as he pictured Elizabeth lost – cold and frightened with the storm upon her.

  “My lord,” Walter called out, “I can’t find the whereabouts of Lady de Bremont.”

  “Apparently she went for a ride,” Nicholas said as he glared at Stephen.

  “A ride?” Walter asked. “She was cryin’ earlier. Was it wise to let her leave when she was so upset?”

  Nicholas’s stomach lurched. “I wasn’t aware she’d left until now,” he replied, feeling the need to defend himself. How could he have missed the fact that she was troubled?

  “I didn’t realize she was a prisoner here.” Stephen looked at Nicholas as though he’d lost his mind. “I thought she was free to come and go as she pleased.”

  “Prisoner? Lady de Bremont?” Thomas stared back and forth at the men. His eyes grew wide, whether from fear or excitement, Nicholas wasn’t certain. “Are you saying I helped her escape?”

  “Escape?” Walter echoed. “Why would she be needin’ to escape?”

  Nicholas rubbed his forehead. “Nay, Lady de Bremont is not a prisoner here, and nay you did not help her escape.”

  The boy looked almost disappointed at this news.

  “I’m merely surprised that no one accompanied the lady on her ride.” Nicholas glared at Stephen again.

  The man shifted, not meeting Nicholas’s eyes. “According to the man at the gate, she did not seem to want any company. She passed through the portcullis quickly as though intent on some errand.”

  That gave Nicholas pause. Why would she not seek a proper escort? He couldn’t think of where she’d go. “Did she take anything with her?” he asked Thomas, hoping for a clue as to what her errand might have been.

  Thomas frowned as he considered the question. “Nay. She did not even carry a cloak with her.”

  “Walter, you said she was crying?” Perhaps the words of the smithy’s wife had troubled her more than he’d realized. Or had it been his words that caused her to leave?

  “Aye, my lord. She practically ran out of the keep.”

  Where could she have gone? Had she left in truth? For good? Fear skidded down his spine. He supposed it was possible that she’d had enough of the situation and escaped, just as Thomas had suggested. He knew her stay here thus far had been far from easy. Why couldn’t she stay within the boundaries of their original agreement? Her request to make their marriage something more was unacceptable.

  Nicholas cast a glance up at the sky and was rewarded by a large, cold drop on his face. Within a short time, they were in for a deluge.

  “Thomas, ready my horse. I’ll search for her.”

  “Should I gather some men, my lord?” Stephen asked.

  Nicholas pushed back the hot sting of panic in his throat. He needed to think...to determine where she might have gone. She couldn’t have ridden too far. Though she might hold no regard for him, he was certain she wouldn’t leave William. Not until she’d seen to his recovery. He refused to believe she’d run off until he saw evidence of it with his own eyes. “Nay. I’ll search for her myself.”

  Within a short time, he’d gathered his cloak and hers and was riding his steed out the gate. After speaking with the guard who’d watched her leave, he followed the path along the edge of the valley floor. The rain now fell in a steady rhythm, but from the look of the sky, the worst was yet to come.

  As he rode, he ran a wondering finger across the gold wire embroidery that now graced the neckline of his cloak. The rich-looking broach that fastened it had been an even bigger surprise when the maidservant had handed him what he’d thought to be his simple, woolen cloak. He knew exactly who he had to thank for that. Oddly touched by Elizabeth’s thoughtfulness, he shifted in his saddle. Lord but the woman had infiltrated every area of his life.

  What was he to do with her?

  Before he could address that question, he had to find her. With a firm press of his knees, he eased his black steed into a gallop, and they covered the ground quickly.

  Where could she have gone? Did she even have the sense to get out of the rain?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Icy shards of rain pelted Nicholas’s face. He scanned both sides of the path as he rode, hoping for a glimpse of Elizabeth, certain he’d find her cowering in the trees, but to no avail. His concern grew. Where could she be?

  More importantly, why had she left?

  The rain made it difficult to see and hid any tracks he could’ve followed. His worry mounted the farther he rode. He hoped she’d had the sense to find a dry place out of the storm.

  An old, abandoned cottage on the edge of the woods near the north end of the valley would be the most likely place for her to seek shelter. If she’d gotten that far, she might have noticed the small building tucked among the trees.

  He rode as hard as he dared in the slick mud toward the cottage, arriving as the deluge began in full force. The narrow lean-to attached to the small hut would shelter his horse. As he rounded the corner of the cottage, relief filled him at the sight of Elizabeth’s horse already tethered to a post under the roof. He drew a deep breath as the urgency of his mission eased, then looped his horse’s reins around a post alongside hers and headed toward the door of the cottage.

  Thunder rumbled as Nicholas entered. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness of the interior.

  Elizabeth knelt in the middle of the floor, those long competent fingers tending a small fire on the raised hearth. The low flames indicated that she’d recently lit it and, based on her satisfied smile, seemed quite proud of her accomplishment.

  Surprise filled him. Why wasn’t she upset? A crumbling heap upon the floor awaiting his rescue? Why couldn’t she ever do what he expected her to?

  She looked up and caught sight of him, obviously shocked by his appearance. “My lord? What are you doing here? You’re soaked even more than I.”

  Her words barely registered. All his senses were overwhelmed by the sight of her. Perhaps because he’d been so worried. He hated to think it was for any other reason.

  She’d loosened her damp hair from its normal braid, and somehow seeing her in disarray changed everything. The long strands fell to her waist in soft waves. The wet fabric of her pale golden gown pulled taut and clung to every curve as she knelt by the fire. The gown that had appeared a bit worn this morn was nearly sheer now that it was damp. Her nipples were clearly visible, making him catch his breath. The fire faltered, and she turned back to it to blow into the flames, her mouth forming a perfect circle which each breath.

  Damn.

  The blood in his head moved south so quickly, it left him lightheaded.

  With a watchful eye on the now steadily burning fire, she rose, her gaze scanning his face. “What is it?” The firelight behind her silhouetted her long legs through the thin dress and turned her curling hair to burnished gold.

  He tried to pull his thoughts to what she’d said.

  “I was worried when you didn’t return to the keep before the rain started.” Out of my mind with worry, he wanted to add, wondering if his casual tone fooled her. He moved forward on unsteady legs, her allure overpowering him. “You’ve been gone some time. Thomas is quite concerned about you.”

  He bit back the question on the tip of his tongue. Why did you leave? For some reason, he feared her answer to that.

  Her gaze remained steady on his as she seemed to debate her answer. “I needed some fresh air.”

  He said nothing, waiting to see if she’d offer more.

  S
he shrugged as she glanced back at the fire. “I thought William could do without me staring at him for an afternoon.”

  Was that guilt he heard in her tone? Did she think he thought poorly of her for taking some time to herself? “Mary is with him.”

  Although his intent had been to reassure her, she bit her lip as if his words made her feel worse.

  Perhaps he’d be better off saying nothing at all. But then, he’d have naught to hold his interest except her. A mistake for certain.

  The fire snapped behind her, and she startled, moving closer to him. He caught her arms. “Careful.”

  She looked surprised at his protective gesture. “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze searching his face.

  He never should’ve touched her. This close, he caught her flowery scent. The dampness of her hair and gown unleashed her sweet rose fragrance. Her arms were slim yet strong beneath his trembling fingers. With only the slightest pressure, he pulled her close. Her head tilted up toward his, her lips parted in surprise, her brow arched in question. The bow of her upper lip captured his attention. The rosy curve suddenly fascinated him, and he couldn’t pull his gaze away.

  Desire curled hot and strong through him. How had he resisted her for this long? He knew not, but he could think of no reason to continue to do so. He searched her eyes for a reason to stop this madness, but found only a desire that matched his own.

  His lips captured hers, and his tongue swept into her mouth. He gave no thought to the consequences of his actions but relished the pleasure she gave him. He released her arms to gather her closer. His hands pressed her cold form against his heat, lingering on the narrowness of her waist, the curve of her hips. She molded to his body as though she’d been designed specifically for him.

  She was perfect.

  And she was his.

  He pulled back for the barest of moments, needing to look into those warm brown eyes to see if she felt the same as he.

  Her heated gaze met his for the space of a heartbeat, then fell to his lips. Left with no choice, he kissed her again, slowing down to linger and enjoy the sweet taste of her.