“Skena…wait!”
The turn was ahead, the steep steps just beyond. Pushing herself hard, she flew around the corner, not slowing, and slammed hard into the chest of a man. She tried to strike out, push away from him, but he was immovable. Catching her by the upper arms, he held tight and refused to let go. Tears streaming down her face she fought the blackness threatening to claim her.
She had been right—she ran straight into his trap.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Skena…Skena.” His calling her name did not instill calm; instead she struggled even more. At length, Noel shook her faintly to stop her from striking him. “Hush, lass. You are safe with me. Stop this now.”
His words at last reached her, for she almost crumpled in his embrace, leaning against his chest and weeping. “I saw him,” she sobbed.
“Be calm, lass. Let us get inside by the hearth and warm, then you may tell me all.” The muscles around Noel’s mouth tightened into a deep frown; he suspected who Skena thought she had seen. Irritated, he glanced around for the sentries, yet saw none. “Guards! Guards! To me!” he shouted loudly. His voice rang out against the fortress walls, but drew no response. “Damn their hides. There shall be hell to pay on the morrow.”
Taking hold of her upper arm, he started toward the tower entrance. Skena stumbled. Crushing her billowing mantle to her slender body, he easily swung her up into his arms. “I may chain you to the bed. I warn you, soon-to-be-wife, I shall endure no such nocturnal wanderings in my domain. Am I understood?”
She gave a weak nod, so unlike his rebellious lass. Skena was such a brave lady that it hurt him to see her shaken. As he neared the entrance, she lifted her head. “’Tis locked. I tried and could not get in that way.”
Noel pulled up, seeing the door rock in the rising wind. “I am going to set you on your feet. Do not move. Disobey me, and I shall beat you.”
She hiccupped and then bobbed her head. “I will obey, but not because you threaten me. You will never beat me, Noel.”
“Ah, ’tis Noel again now you are in my bad grace.” Snatching the long dirk from his right boot, he cautiously moved to the door. The air stirred it to swing only a small measure. He cautiously put his splayed hand on it to stop the creaking movement. Waiting a breath, he finally slammed his foot into the wood, sending the door to crash back against the inner wall. There was only darkness. Soon, flickering light slowly illuminated the spiral staircase, growing brighter as at last Guillaume’s head came into view.
His friend scowled, seeing Noel standing in the doorway. “I heard you call for the guards.”
“Hell’s fire! Aye, I called. Find them! Find out why they abandoned their posts. Now!” Not pleased by the events, Noel allowed Guillaume to feel the sharp edge of his temper.
Guillaume nodded that Noel held that right. “First, allow me to escort you both safely to the lord’s chamber. I shall then set about to sort matters with my soldiery.” When Skena stepped forward and her ankle almost buckled under her, he offered, “Want me to carry her?”
Noel spared no answer, just a glare, causing Guillaume to chuckle at the possessiveness. Sweeping Skena into his arms, Noel followed Guillaume down the staircase. So alarmed was he by her state, Noel feared he might never let her out of his sight again.
“It was bolted,” she insisted quietly.
“Hush, wench. We may speak about why you were on the boulevard once we are in the chamber. After we talk, then I shall beat you.”
They neared the room occupied by Comyn, and Noel did not want the man overhearing any of their hushed words. He pulled up short when Guillaume raised his hand, then moved to the door in silent steps to check if Duncan were still within. Confirming this with a quick nod, he dropped his hand, and they proceeded forward again.
Once inside the chamber, Noel placed Skena on the bed and lit the fat candle at the bedside. Taking off his heavy mantle, he swung it across her. “Stay under that ’til I get the fire stirred.”
“I am off to round up my missing soldiery,” Guillaume announced.
Noel looked toward him. “Send in her maidservant with some mead—”
“I do not want—” Skena chirped.
“Hush, wench. Do you want me to beat you?” Noel threatened again, though it was clear Skena failed to believe him. He was having a hard time controlling his wild emotions.
“One maidservant with mead coming shortly.” Guillaume closed the door after him.
Noel tossed three peats onto the hearth, then jabbed at them until they caught and burned brightly. Temper rising, he took several deep breaths to rein in the spiraling anger and sense of utter helplessness. He glanced up as Jenna came in, carrying a goblet. The woman looked to him. He tilted his head in Skena’s direction. It pleased him the maidservant sought his direction, already accepting him as lord here. Jenna’s presence also allowed him time to calm down before he spoke to Skena about what happened.
“I do not want this,” Skena protested.
Finally, something Noel could focus upon. “Drink it, you rebellious wench—”
“Do not bother with dire threats of beating me, de Servian. They are toothless as we both ken.”
He arched a brow. “Back to de Servian?” Noel took the cup from Jenna’s hand and held it out. “I recall the night we met. You forced me to down some horrid potion that tasted like mud, stump water, and ground twigs. All I ask of you is to drink mead. You were scared up there. I would like your spirit soothed. Once you drink it, then I promise we will speak of what happened.”
Skena glowered, but took the cup. “I drink the mead. But you are still de Servian.”
Noel smiled at his small victory. “Ah, you forget that I am a warlock and with magic of kissing lessons I can become Noel again.” He turned to Skena’s handmaiden. “Thank you, Jenna. Please stay with Andrew and Annis the rest of the night.”
Skena’s head snapped up at the mention of the children, just now considering they might possibly be at risk.
“Do not fret, love. Jenna and Nessa shall stay with them, and Guillaume will set a man at the door with orders to let no one in. They will sleep secure this night,” he assured her.
“Do not fash, Skena. The lambs will be safe.” Jenna took the empty cup and then left them alone.
Noel sat down on the bed, reaching out to take Skena’s hand. “What were you doing on the boulevard? I thought you had retired? I went looking for you and found your room empty. You were not patrolling? I will not stand for it, Skena. You did well in keeping this fortress together and protecting your people until my coming. Now ’tis my responsibility to see to Craigendan’s safety.”
She pursed her lips while he spoke. When he finally stopped she asked, “Are you done? I cannot answer your questions if you do not take a breath now and again.”
He gave her a faint smile. “You sound more like yourself. What happened, Skena?”
“I was not patrolling. I guess I am used to being up at this time of night. When I grew unable to find my sleep, I went for fresh air to clear my mind. I was not out long. I spoke with Stephan Mallory for a few moments—”
“So you saw him? Did you espy the other guards?”
“Not sure how many were on duty, but I saw two others at each end of the far turns. I never approached them though. After I left Mallory, I walked to the far corner of the main boulevard, and I heard someone call my name—”
“Of all the thoughtless things—”
“Oh, hush, de Servian. If you are going to fash without listening, then I am going to sleep. The mead is making me drowsy,” she complained.
“Very well, speak. I listen now and beat you come morning.”
“So kind of you,” she teased. “I ignored the summons this time. I did have my sword, though.”
“You did not have one when I found you,” he pointed out.
“When he started for me, I dropped it and did not pause to pick it up. I ran to the tower entrance, but it was bolted.” She saw him o
pen his mouth to say that it had not been locked when they returned later and stopped his words. “I ken it was open when we used it. It was not when I ran to it. I kicked and beat on it. After seeing it was barred against me, I kept on running, thinking I would find Squire Mallory. He was not there. I screamed. Methinks even with the rising wind he should have heard me.”
Noel nodded. “Guillaume is off seeking answers to where the guards were. He will get to the bottom of their whereabouts.” He reached down and unlaced his boots, allowing them to drop. “I want no fussing about you staying in here with me this night because Duncan Comyn may carry tales back to his clan. I care not what the man has to say. You had two frightening experiences this day. I want you close.”
He slid under the woolen plaides and bear skin throw, pulling Skena’s trembling body alongside his. She sounded calmer, even traded jests with him about beating her, but she was deeply shaken by this newest incident. He had seen the fear in her eyes. Someday he would kill the man who put it there.
“Noel,” she said softly, “thank you for holding me.”
“Noel, eh?” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I hope to hold you every night like this for the rest of our lives, lass.”
A dreamy look swirled in her dark eyes, the mead hitting her blood. “Is that a promise?”
“Aye, a promise, Skena.”
“Good. I plan on holding you to that oath.” The trembling lessened as she drew on the warmth from his body. Her eyelids slowly lowered and her head lay on his chest, while he cradled her in his arms.
Noel held her tightly until her faint quaking stopped. At length, she slumbered quietly in his embrace. Skena was a precious gift Fate had given to him, and he would allow no one to threaten her. Someone had dared. Well, he soon would put a stop to that, once and for all. He would make them pay.
“Aye, Skena, I keep my promises,” he whispered, his eyes staring into the fire.
The rap upon the door caused Noel to rouse from the blackness of sleep. He blinked several times, and then with a sigh, carefully slid out from under Skena, still half draped across his chest. Despite his body’s near constant complaint of needing to do more than just hold her, he had experienced a deep sense of contentment cradling her against him. A feeling of completeness filled his heart. Together they were snug against the room’s chill, and though he really would prefer to stay with her now, he recognized the sharp knock as one of import.
For the longest time, rest had evaded him. Too many questions crowded his mind. A clear pattern should be obvious, keys to what was happening to Skena and why. Someone planned to benefit from terrorizing her. He had stared at the flames and gone over every detail, but still the riddles refused to give up answers. At some point, he had drifted off.
Glancing back at Skena resting peacefully, Noel stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut. He lifted his eyebrows and waited for Guillaume to speak. From the hesitant expression on his friend’s face, he knew the answers would not please him. “So? Did you find where the errant guards were? They should be whipped, to a man. Their laxness saw Skena’s life in peril. If I had not been restless and gone looking for her, she would have been left alone to deal with this menace. Why was no one there to help Skena?”
“I found one at the stable, a knot on his head. He said he heard someone moving around down there and went to investigate, and does not recall what happened after he entered the stable. Another guard was lured away by someone opening the postern gate and going outside. He went after them, only they disappeared into the woods. By the time he returned to his post everything had already happened. Possibly two different incidents. Or it might have been the same person mucking about in the stable left by the postern gate.”
“And Mallory?” Noel pressed. “Skena said she spoke with him, but when she ran back for help he was gone.”
“He reported that a redheaded woman had gone down the north stairs and tripped near the bottom. He went to her aid. She had twisted her ankle, and he had to carry her back inside.”
“Dorcas, no doubt.” Noel glowered. “Simple coincidences? I will eat my hauberk if they were.”
“The specter of mischief afoot, I agree. First, Skena seeing Fadden’s ghost, then someone staging that accident yesterday. The watcher in the woods. Now, half the bloody fortress was up running about as if it was Twelfth Night. Most niggling of all—a Comyn under the roof.” Guillaume made a sour face. “His presence only sets hackles to my back.”
“Tis nary a ghost. Someone carried Skena from the cleansing room down to the cellar. A man. Only why leave her there?”
Guillaume asked, “Did you consider that by coming back early you stopped their intended devilry? I mean, did you search the cellars?”
“Bloody hell! I never stopped…. I was too upset and wanted to get her upstairs warm and safe.” In frustration, Noel ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead.
Guillaume’s brow lifted. “No purpose, eh, was served in simply putting her there unharmed. Someone knocked her out and carried her down there. What if they were going to place her at the bottom of the stairs, mayhap break her neck and leave her like she fell? They could not kill her in the cleansing rooms. Someone might happen upon them carrying a dead body. It follows they knocked her out and moved her safely to the cellars. If anyone came along, they could say she fell and they were merely carrying her to her chamber. You were out hunting with me and half the men. Only you rushed back, and mayhap stopped them? The cellars run into caves, I am told. You have no way of knowing…. Someone could have stood in the shadows watching you.”
“By the bones of saints, such never occurred to me. I should have ordered the cellar searched. I was too upset. Mistakes like that cost a warrior his life.” Noel wanted to hit something to vent the growing fury.
Guillaume patted his shoulder. “Love has a way of muddling a man’s thoughts. Well, if last night’s misdeeds were all part of a plan, then clearly you are dealing with more than one person in this keep meaning harm toward Skena, possibly her children.” Guillaume’s exhale held a deep portent. “I had planned to return to Lochshane this morn, but I am staying now. You need someone watching your back until we unravel what is happening here.”
Noel shook his head. “Nay, you will miss Yule and Christmas if you stay. Lady Rowanne will not be happy to find her betrothed away. Perchance she might view it as an insult. ’Tis the first time for you to spend the two holidays together.”
“My lady can well do without my presence, much to my wounded pride. And sadly, I welcome the excuse not to be around her. Having to keep my distance is wearing on my honorable intentions.” The truth of Guillaume’s words was written on his face.
Noel gave him a lopsided smile. “I appreciate you at my back, if you are sure it will not cause sore feelings with Lady Rowanne.”
His friend shrugged. “I would delight to know Rowanne missed me and was upset I was not there. I suspect she wishes I just would go away and cease to bedevil her. Mayhap absence will make her heart long for my return.” He raised his brows in doubt. “Mayhap not. Go seek your rest. ’Tis early still.”
Noel nodded. “Excellent suggestion.”
As Guillaume walked away, Noel turned to look back at him. He felt sorrow in him that his friend believed Lady Rowanne harbored resentment for his coming to Lochshane. Later, he would ask Skena about the woman, her cousin. To Noel it was easy to see that his friend was in love with the distant lady, and he hoped they would find a bridge over their differences.
Loving Guillaume as a brother, he wanted only happiness for him. Guillaume, too, had been a warrior for so long. His friend needed peace, a place of his own. Since finding love with Skena, he would wish the same joy to all the battle-weary dragons of Challon.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Entering the chamber, Noel walked to the fireplace, picked up the poker, and prodded the flames into life. Plagued by the troubles stalking Craigendan, his mind could find no peace. Since q
uick answers to the dilemma were not rising in his thoughts, he was relieved Guillaume had offered to stay for a spell longer. The men of Challon had survived enemies and warfare all these years by watching each other’s backs.
“This will be yet another time when brother stands with brother,” he whispered to the flickering fire.
Staring intently into the yellow and blue flames, as if the answers to his questions lay in the dancing lights, he failed to notice Skena had awakened until she slid her arms around his waist from behind. He gave a faint start, surprised his warrior’s sense had not detected her presence until she touched him. Dismissing that unease, he smiled as she leaned along his back and hugged him. Skena pressed flush against his body, allowing the fullness of her breasts to mold to the columns of his back. The baize chemise did little to shield her softness from his flesh.
Taking hold of her lower arms, he unwrapped her hold about his waist. Not completely, just enough to pull her around to face him. “I wanted you to sleep,” he said, then kissed the side of her forehead.
Skena looked up, a drowsy expression in her brown eyes. “You went away and took all that wonderful heat from our bed. Now I feel chilled. I recall you saying there were other ways for a woman to warm a man’s blood. Faster ways. Do those tricks work for a man to warm a woman’s blood?”
He smiled and tugged her tighter to him. “I believe ’tis the same for a man or a woman.”
She rubbed against him like a cat, as though she could not get close enough. “Show me, Noel,” she whispered, tilting her mouth up to his.
Skena ignited a blaze in his groin, the sensation flowing outward like molten iron within his blood, a ravenous, clawing need, a force the likes he had never experienced before. Craving pounded through his mind, blotted out reason, leaving it hard to focus on anything except how soft her lips were, how he wanted to taste them.
“’Tis taxing to be honorable, lass, with you against me like this. ’Tis different for a woman. A man’s blood rules at such times. Age old instincts drive us, push us. The quickening in the blood turns animalistic. Once the beast within us slips the leash, ’tis not easy to remember soft words.” Noel struggled to hold on to the last shred of his sanity, as the scent of her skin filled his mind with intoxicating Skena.
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