Daring Damsels

by Domning, Denise

  She took a deep breath willing the sounds of clanging metal and the yells of pain to disappear. It had to be all in her head. There was no way they were true sounds. She was with Alexander. She was safe. But the longer she listened the more she realized the sounds she heard from below were real.

  What has Alexander done? He has tricked me into marrying him and came here to take his revenge!

  Her heart ripped at the thought of his betrayal. How could he do this to her? Another small faint voice within told her not to jump to conclusions, that perhaps they had been attacked and he had nothing to do with it. But the part of her that had not been able to trust him fully and had thought their love was too good to be true, screamed of his evil plans.

  She whipped the covers away from her body and bolted to the window. Her breathing was fast, sweat formed in little beads above her lip. Her hands shook and her palms were clammy. Her stomach twisted in knots and threatened to lose the contents that weren’t there. She stopped short of the window, her hand on her heart trying to calm its erratic beating. She took a deep breath and then reached for the covering that blocked her view.

  Below in the courtyard knights fought. She quickly spotted Alexander as he wielded his sword ferociously with one attacker after another. Her knees buckled a bit and she grabbed the wall to steady herself. She strained her eyes to see the people he was fighting against. Were they her people? Was he fighting the servants? No, they were not servants. It looked like a group of outlaws. Trained outlaws. She shuddered as she watched an axe narrowly miss the back of Alexander’s head before he turned around and gave the assailant a fatal blow. She caught sight of the assailant’s face—Angus.

  Chloe frantically searched the bailey with her eyes to locate anyone she may recognize. She had to know—were they all Fergussons? They were all so dirty and covered in blood she couldn’t make out a single person.

  And then she heard the voice.

  The loud booming voice of her father resounded through the courtyard, as he bellowed at the top of his lungs for Alexander. He threatened him, called him the worst of all names.

  She watched helplessly as her husband charged her father. They fought hard. Her father was still full of strength despite his age, making him a fearsome opponent. Alexander and he swung their swords at each other, although Alexander was holding back so they appeared to be evenly matched.

  Chloe’s knees buckled, and she could no longer stand. Her body shook uncontrollably, and her arms had no strength left in them to hold her up. She crumpled to the floor, her eyes wide, too stunned to think or cry.

  She had finally found her match, a man she loved and saw herself growing old with. Now he fought with her father, a man who had no qualms about stabbing another man in the back, but all the same, the man who sired her. Would Alexander be able to win the fight?

  It was clear that Alexander had not tricked her. Her father had attacked South Hearth, with no care that she was inside. Peace was not an idea her father would have ever entertained. She knew that, she’d always known that, and she should have told Alexander. That alone should make her indifferent to her father, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to simply forget about him. Alexander was supposed to be her enemy, but her father had proven that he was the one to watch for.

  However much she loved Alexander, a part of her couldn’t let go of blood ties. Even though her father had treated her despicably, left her to die, she still held some connection to him.

  Her insides felt like they were being ripped apart. Her heart pounded against her chest and her ears began to ring. She couldn’t bring herself to look out the window.

  In her heart, she knew who she wanted to triumph. The man who had liberated her, had made her feel whole inside.

  Please God, let Alexander win the battle.

  Edward and his men arrived moments after the band of Fergusson outlaws attacked the castle. They fought ferociously, Edward at Alexander’s back. Although they hadn’t been able to complete the preparations Alexander had set in place, his men had been ready, and knew they were in for a fight. Edward and Alexander’s forces greatly outnumbered the outlawed warriors and soon took control of the attack.

  Baron Fergusson barreled toward Alexander, sword drawn, ready to run him through. Alexander stepped to the side narrowly escaping the attack. Dear God, what was he to do? He’d only planned to take her father into custody, not fight him to the death.

  “Baron, please, let us talk,” Alexander pleaded as he parried another attack. The old man was strong. Stronger than Alexander expected, and much quicker as well.

  “Talk? Nonsense, Sassenach!”

  “I am married to your daughter!” Alexander bellowed, tripping the old man up, and then knocking him harmlessly to the ground.

  “All the better to make her a widow, maggot’s breath,” he hissed, as he climbed to his feet and head first, tried to tackle Alexander.

  Alexander jumped to the left, but the old Baron was still able to grab onto his calf and pull him to the ground. Alexander’s sword clattered a few feet away. They struggled a bit on the ground, and then Alexander gained the upper hand.

  Around them, the fight continued on. No one seeming the wiser that the two leaders fought ferociously.

  Alexander scrambled for his sword, and the baron sliced forward, cutting through the chainmail on Alexander’s shoulder and just barely nicking his skin. The man didn’t waste any time continuing with his attack, and it dawned on Alexander then, the man would not surrender. He would fight to the death. Fergusson was a warrior at heart. Alexander would have done the same. But he couldn’t murder his wife’s father. And then again, he couldn’t lose his own life, not when it was really just beginning.

  The baron thrust again, this time missing Alexander’s neck by a mere inch. If he didn’t get his head on straight and get back into the fight, he’d lose. Resolved that the man would never surrender—that he wanted to die a knight’s death—Alexander put himself fully back into the fight. Regret left a bitter taste in his mouth as his blade sank home, and the baron fell to the ground.

  “Thank you,” the old man choked.

  Alexander’s brows drew together, and he crouched down by the old man’s side. “What?”

  But Fergusson did not say anymore. Alexander sat all the way down next to the man. Drained both physically and emotionally. He stared blankly as the fight around him continued and his men annihilated the enemy. He couldn’t hear anything except for his own breathing, his own heartbeat. What would he tell his wife? His love? She would never look at him the same again. But at the same time, he understood the old man’s need to die an honorable death. From what he understood of Chloe’s father, he never would have backed down.

  When the fight was over, not one Fergusson was left alive. Alexander had ordered prisoners be taken, but the Scots wouldn’t allow it, fighting until the bitter end.

  Alexander ordered that Chloe’s mother be found, and men were sent to the forest to find her and any others that may still be lurking behind. His men returned with her and her five guards. There were no others left in the woods.

  “To the great hall,” Alexander bellowed when they returned with the baroness.

  The warriors who found her nodded and brought the prisoners into the great hall.

  “What are you to do with her and her men?” Edward asked.

  “I do not know.” He shook his head, melancholy replacing his normal jubilation at winning a battle. “She is Chloe’s mother. I would have kept her father alive, but he kept fighting, refused to surrender. I had no choice.”

  Alexander glanced toward the stairs. There was no sign of Chloe, but he knew she had to be awake by now. With all the battle cries, shouts of pain and metal clashing, she had to of woken. How would he be able to face her? He hoped to have had more time here with her before anything happened. But his chance to tell her about the king’s order never came. And her father…

  “She will not understand.” Alexander wiped his sword
and sheathed it at his side. “She is so tender and innocent.”

  Edward nodded, his expression grave. Alexander walked solemnly from the stairs and took a seat at a large ornately carved wooden chair before the fireplace. The five guards and Chloe’s mother came to stand in a line facing him. The woman greatly resembled his wife, except for the cold hard edge about her. Her eyes were a piercing blue and he couldn’t imagine any warmth ever entering them. Her chin jut out in obstinance and she spat at him when he caught her eye.

  “You may take us prisoner. You may kill us, but we will not bow to you or your kind,” she said loudly, in her thick French accent.

  “You will bow to me. I am lord here, and I am married to your daughter.”

  “I will never bow to you. My daughter may have married you, but she will never betray her family. She will seek vengeance for the Fergussons until her last breath.”

  At her words, Alexander flinched inwardly. He did not let her know how deeply her words affected him. In the beginning he’d thought Chloe may betray him, but that had changed. He’d seen she was innocent of treachery, that she truly cared for him. Now, the baroness’s words were a reminder of who his wife was, and what had happened to her family at his hands.

  He diverted his eyes from her and looked skeptically to her guards.

  “Bow before me or lose your heads.” His voice was quiet but threatening. He didn’t move, only stared, and waited.

  The men slowly, one by one, bowed before him. Alexander was shocked at their show of submission, especially after not a one they’d fought moments before had acquiesced.

  “Cowards!” the woman yelled.

  “Not cowards, my lady, simply not traitors. Will you now bow before me or lose your head?”

  “No!”

  The shout that nearly shook the rafters, came from Chloe. She rushed into the room, her raven hair a swirl of clouds about her head, her face pale, her lips tight, making their normal rosy hue pasty.

  “Chloe,” Alexander and her mother whispered at the same time.

  “No Alexander, you cannot end her life!” she yelled at him, shoulders squared. “She is my mother. She has done nothing wrong, but to obey her husband. Should I be murdered for obeying you?”

  She came to him then, kneeling on the floor, her hands clasping his. She lifted her gaze to him, her violet eyes filled with warm pleading, pain etched on every inch of her face.

  “What would you have me do?” he whispered, leaning closer so their faces were only inches apart. He squeezed her hand. “She has spat on me, refused to offer her allegiance, and has said that even you would become a traitor to me one day.”

  With his last words, he stared at her hard and watched the pain in her face change to one of confusion and then to anger. She stood and walked to her mother.

  “Maman, I would never betray my husband. I love him.” Her voice was whisper soft and Alexander could hear the truth ring clear as day.

  Her mother’s face crumpled at the words from her daughter, and she collapsed onto Chloe’s shoulder, loud sobs wrenching her body.

  “I fear that my mother has not known much love in her life. She has not shared what we have. Please take mercy on her.” Tears now flowed freely down her cheeks as she implored him. Alexander’s gut twisted at the sight. “For me.”

  How could he not? “Aye, my love, I will. She will live out the rest of her days at St. Mary’s Abbey, near Hardwyck.” He looked to the ground for a moment when he said this, fearing that fierce stares from his own warriors would be too much. Fearing he would see his own cowardice in their eyes. But then he realized how cowardly he was being, and raised his gaze. His men nodded, approval etched on their faces.

  “You truly love this man?” Her mother asked, awe in her expression.

  “Oui, Maman. I do.”

  The baroness’ face look sad, and lost. “Then I will do this for you.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and came to stand before Alexander, all of his warriors hands went to their swords should she try to harm him.

  She kneeled before Alexander. “My Lord Hardwyck.”

  “Earl of Northumberland,” Edward corrected.

  Chloe and Alexander both looked up sharply, he had again forgotten and it probably hadn’t occurred to Chloe. He gave Edward a disapproving glance for the interruption before turning back to the matronly woman. Her head did not move, her expression never faltered. She had much grace in her, and she simply started again.

  “My lord, I offer you my loyalty, as the husband of my daughter and ruler of my people.”

  “I accept, Madame.” His face like hers never wavered, never showed his true feelings. He laughed inside at the way she had phrased her fealty to him, her people. Perhaps there was more of his wife in this older woman than he’d first seen.

  She stood slowly, stoically and looked about her. “Much has changed.”

  “Yes, my wife, the Countess of Northumberland, has done quite well at enhancing our home.”

  “Countess.” Her mother turned to Chloe, and gave her a light pat on the cheek. “I am tired and would like to rest.”

  “I shall see about a hot bath, as well,” Chloe stated.

  “I wish to speak to you in private, my wife,” Alexander interjected. He had to speak with Chloe. He had to explain, make sure she was not angry with him.

  Chloe nodded at him and gave him a small smile, which relieved him. If she had been angry, and lord did he know how she was when she was angry, she would not have offered him her smile.

  Alexander climbed from his hot bath, and dressed. He did not have to wait long for Chloe to appear in their bedchamber. Her cheeks were flushed when she entered and her eyes flashed fire at him. He was taken aback by her apparent anger toward him. His smile faltered. What was he to make of her ire?

  “Chloe,” he started but stopped abruptly when she held her hand up for his silence.

  “How dare you not tell me about a war,” she hissed. “I awoke to the clanging of metal and screams of pain. It was like reliving what happened here all over again. You should have warned me.” Her hands rested on her hips, her chin lifted, as she challenged him.

  Alexander’s own temper flared, the muscle in his jaw clenching during her tirade.

  “Warned you? Should I have politely asked your father’s men to hold their stance while I informed my wife of their treacherous attack? Ha! I’d have been dead if I had done that. But maybe that is what you would want anyway.”

  She walked toward him, daggers shooting from her eyes. “Don’t patronize me, you scoundrel. You could have sent someone up here. And if I wanted you dead, I could have done the deed myself many times over.” She stopped right in front of him, her face tilted up, not a hint of fear in her eyes as she berated him.

  Staring down into the angelic face of his wife, who was now fired up with the devil, sent Alexander into a whirl of emotion and desire. He grasped her roughly around the waist and hauled her against him. His mouth captured hers. He wasn’t gentle with her. No, he ravaged her. He let the emotions of the morning come apart in her mouth. Their tongues warred with each other just as the knights had, not an hour before.

  Her arms wrapped around his back and squeezed him tight. Alexander threaded his hands through her hair as he held her, kissing her passionately. The anger dissipated from him, and he could feel it leaving her as well. The setting of war and hate were gone now and it was only the two of them. They were wrapped up in their own love, a whirlwind of emotions swirling about them.

  “Oh, Alexander, I thought you would be killed. I was so scared.” Chloe’s voice was a ragged whisper as she placed fevered kisses along his cheeks and chin.

  “My love, your father—”

  But Chloe cut him off. “There is nothing you could have done, I know my father… Let us not talk of it now. Never leave me! Never!”

  “I am here and I am not leaving you.” He drew her mouth back to his and carried her to the bed. As they fell to the mattress together, their hands
tore at their clothes with a feverish pace. Both were not able to wait any longer to join their bodies together, to make the moment last, to know they were both alive and still together.

  They moved at a fast pace, Alexander thrusting deeply and Chloe lifting her hips to accept all he gave her. Chloe was a wild cat, clawing at his back, kissing him ferociously, calling his name in hoarse whispers. Alexander was like a dragon, breathing fire into her body until every fiber in her being melted like molten lava in a million earth-shattering pieces.

  They were both alive. They both had forgiven each other, and they knew now they were safe to live the rest of their lives as husband and wife, with no one to argue any other way.

  Chloe leaned against Alexander’s chest as they made their way back to Hardwyck on horseback. The weather still held the warmth of summer even though it was early fall, and along the fields they passed, peasants worked and crops flourished. Overhead the sky was clear blue. The scents of fresh wildflowers wafted through the air, and the sounds of birds chirping were everywhere.

  After leaving South Hearth, they’d made their way across the land visiting Alexander’s various holdings and even stopped to visit with the king. He had been thoroughly enchanted with her, and likewise Chloe had been with him. She could now see why Alexander held such respect for King Henry.

  She sighed, a small smile upon her face. She had some very exciting news to share with her handsome husband, and she couldn’t wait until they arrived at Hardwyck. At the sound of her sigh, she felt his arm tighten around her middle, and he kissed her below her ear.

  “We are almost home, my love,” he whispered tenderly.

  “I am home wherever you are.”

  He chuckled lightly and snuggled closer to her.

  “Why do you laugh husband?”

  “’Twas just under a year ago that we ranted and raved at each other. Now if the people were to see us, two love birds, they wouldn’t believe their eyes.”

  Chloe laughed too, and brushed an errant hair from out of her face. She remembered the stares they received from passersby as they rumbled at each other. Their arguments were so heated and passionate. She was sure they’d shocked the whole village, especially when Alexander dropped her on her derriere outside of the keep after that highly sensual encounter in the forest… Chloe’s body responded violently from the thought, and every heated joining they’d had since. Her very core thrummed with the thoughts of what Alexander could do to her.