Rowan suddenly felt as if he'd drunk a barrel of wine. His head was spinning from the information he'd just been given. He swallowed convulsively.
"You still have the letters you say?"
"Every one. Didn't seem right to destroy them. Not sure what to do with them now though."
"Bring them here."
"Are you sure? It would take a year to read them all. Womanly nonsense most likely."
"Yes. I'm sure."
The man took his leave then, promising to call again soon with the undelivered mail. Rowan hardly noticed. He felt the blood coursing through his veins, pulsing in his temples. She had written to him after all. Had she asked for help? Forgiveness? He wouldn't be able to think of anything else until he knew.
He had to read those letters.
Six
An hour later his good will was slowly vanishing. He had read her letter to her Aunt asking for shelter. She must have written it before he'd made her his woman. After all, she was pleased with him now. He decided to resist the urge to mention it to her. He would be generous and not punish her for sending the letter without his leave.
He was waiting for Emeline to join him for the evening meal but she had yet to appear. He waved the old woman over as she was pouring ale for the men.
"Fetch your Lady, Magda. I grow weary of waiting."
She nodded and left the chamber. The old woman had been warmer to him since he'd taken Emeline to his bed. She trusted him now that she could see he'd kept his promise to be gentle with the lady. An alliance of sorts had sprung up between them.
It didn't take her long to return. Magda stood by the doorway and caught his eye. He felt a deep sense of unease that increase tenfold when the old woman shook her head. He stood and crossed to her, pulling her out of the great hall behind him.
"What is it?"
"She'd not in her room, nor the kitchen."
"What?"
A terrible feeling was settling into the pit of his stomach. Something was terribly wrong, he knew it. He called Wyeth, Peter and Kenneth to his side and quickly explained that Emeline was- he didn't want to say the word 'missing' but there was no other word for it. He told them to search the castle and the grounds without attracting attention. Then he ran outside to the one place he thought she might be.
Magda was at his heels as he approached the goat pen. He cursed under his breath as concern turned to anger.
The stupid little goat was gone.
Clearly Emeline had left at some point since he saw her that afternoon. No one had taken her. She'd left. He closed his eyes as rage blossomed full blown in his chest. She had disobeyed a direct order. She was his and she had run away.
She had betrayed him. Again.
He would find her and she would have to be punished this time. He could not let her think she could behave this way and get away with it. Jaw clenched, he ordered his soldiers to comb the countryside for him, then he went looking for the serving woman.
He found her in the kitchens, looking fearful. He loomed over her as the other servants cleared out of the kitchen, leaving steaming pots to sway over the fire.
"Where is she Magda?"
"I don't know. I swear to you."
"You know where she is."
"No!"
He did not believe her. All women were liars. That truth had been affirmed for him today.
"Tell me woman, or you will not like the consequences!"
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"I dinna know, but I can guess where she's gone. And why."
He narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to shake the woman.
"You will tell me now!"
"One of the kitchen girls told me your men were talking in the great hall. She heard them say that when your bride came, you'd give the lady Emeline to the soldiers for their pleasure. They were saying all the things they were going to do to my Lady. She said that… Emeline heard them too."
"What?"
"You made a promise to take care of her! How could you do this to her? She's not a toy to be passed around! I'm not helping ye find her so ye can turn her into the castle whore! You can beat me and I still won't tell!"
The old woman was yelling at him in the middle of the kitchen. In the midst of all the turmoil in his mind, he took a moment to be glad no one else was witness to this.
"Listen to me Magda. I did not say that to my men. I would never have said that. I planned to wed her, damn ye!"
"Don't lie to me! I know yer kind. Ye'll take what you want from her and then ye'll discard her without a backward glance!"
"No! I wouldn't!"
He was vehement in his response but a little voice reminded him that it was exactly what he'd planned to do before he'd seen the tapestry. He closed his eyes. This was his fault. He should have made Emeline's position plain to the men. He couldn't fault them for wanting her. He shouldn't fault her for running.
But he did.
She should have come to him and asked him. She should have trusted him! His gut tightened as he grabbed the old woman again.
"Tell me where she is Magda! Look outside, there's a storm coming. She's not safe out there on her own!"
The old woman bit her lip, clearly unsure that she could trust him. Something in his eyes must have convinced her to tell him.
"There's a tunnel from the storeroom. It goes to the sea. I'll show ye."
He followed the woman below stairs, stopping only to grab a torch from the wall. As he stepped into the dark tunnel he swore to himself that when he found her, he'd have her chained to his bed. She'd never run from him again.
**********
Emeline was doubting her decision to run away as soon as the sky started to darken. Why must it storm on this of all days? She pulled her cloak closer around her as she hurried along the shoreline. It was getting late and there was definitely snow in the air.
Better snow then rain!
She prayed fervently that the abandoned fisherman's hut in the woods still had a roof. The little goat was doggedly trailing her, despite the temptation to nibble on this or that. The beach was full of tasty little treats for a hungry goat. Thankfully Bessie was fiercely loyal to her mistress and did her best to keep up.
She was a couple of miles from the harbor where the tunnel let out before she saw the familiar outcropping that marked the path to the old stone structure. She hurried along it, freezing and already missing the comforts of home.
But there was something she missed even more than the warmth and safety of Fairhaven.
Him.
She already missed him.
She knew that she would miss him for the rest of her life. He'd marry and sire children, living happily in the beautiful castle she'd come to love. Meanwhile she would be alone, a poor relation whose living was dependent on her Aunt's good graces.
That was if she was able to actually get there in safety.
She pushed the rickety old door open and surveyed the room. It was drafty and full of refuse but at least there was a roof over their heads. She laid the blanket on the ground made herself and Bessie as comfortable as possible before taking stock of their provisions. Bessie provided milk to wash down Emeline's dinner of bread and cheese before making her bed on a pile of stale hay. Emeline felt her eyes tear up as she considered her predicament. She hadn't thought this through well enough. Her aunt could be gone from this world for all she knew. Where would she go then? For all she knew she was alone in this world save for the little goat snuggled up into her side. She squeezed the animal, grateful for her warmth and affection. Bessie licked the salty tears from her cheeks, making her smile despite her worries.
Outside the snow began to fall.
**********
Rowan cursed as he slammed his leg into yet another tree stump. He couldn't see a damn thing in this darkness! It wasn't the bruised shins that were making him anxious though. It was fear.
Where was she?
The thought of her out here alone, potenti
ally injured or worse was making his guts clench in worry. She must be alive. She had to be. Any other thought was inconceivable. His earlier visions of punishing her for defying him were being quickly replaced by images of her safe and sound, in his bed, by his side.
Please Jesu let her be safe.
He stared into the shadowed woods, imagining her out here alone and unprotected. There were men everywhere with torches, fanning out in either direction from the tunnel's exit, all the way to the shore. It was well past nightfall and the snow had been falling steadily for some time, obscuring any tracks she might have left. The men were clearly exhausted, but he would not sleep, nor let them sleep. Not until they found her.
**********
Cold. She was so cold. Emaline was woken by an odd sound. As she became aware of her surroundings she remembered where she was, and why. After a moment she recognized the sound as her teeth chattering. Even poor little Bessie looked miserable in the dim light afforded by the moon.
What had she been thinking? Running away so ill prepared was fool hardy in the extreme. She lacked tinder, or any way to start a fire. She would freeze here if she stayed any longer. And she'd dragged her little friend along with her!
Emaline forced herself to her feet. She'd have to go back and swallow her pride. He'd be angry with her of course. He'd probably revert to being cold and cruel. But anything was preferable to the sharp cold biting into her hands and feet.
She wrapped herself in her cloak and slipped the rope back over Bessie's neck. She pushed against the flimsy door but it was stuck. With a burst of determination she pushed it open.
White.
The world had turned white. She could no longer see the identifying marks that had led to her to this path. In fact, she could no longer see the path itself. She took a step and sunk, the snow reaching above her ankles. She took another step and it reached her knees. She scooped up the befuddled goat and clutched her to her chest.
There as no hope for it, she had to try.
She told herself that they would be fine as soon as they got to the shore.
**********
Sunrise had come and gone with no sign of her. The men were ready to drop where they stood, but none dared to breath a word to Rowan- he'd been like a caged bear since the girl had gone missing. Kenneth had dared to ask why Emeline had run off only to find a sword pointed at his chest. After that, they'd all left their Lord alone.
At least they could see now. Surely it would easier. Unless she'd fallen, or been taken. Dear god, what if some man had come upon her out here alone? Or men? She wouldn't stand a chance against them.
Panic made him redouble his efforts. He was plunging through the snow when he heard the shout. Sweet hope pierced his chest.
They'd found her.
Wyeth was walking along the shore with a bundle in his arms. His face was grim. Behind him came Kenneth with yet another bundle. It moved and he saw a strange white face peering out from under a blanket.
Bessie.
Of course. She'd taken the goat.
The blanket of snow was thinner on the beach, allowing him to run. He met Wyeth and took her limp body from his arms. The older man's face was sorrowful as he handed her over.
"She's alive. But barely."
Relief washed through him like a wave. But it was short lived. The girl in his arms was blue and trembling. He had to get her inside, right away. He forced himself to slow his pace to a trot as he hastened back to the castle tunnel. It would not do to drop her. Not now.
Seven
Magda and Rowan kept vigil by Emeline's bedside all day and into the night. They warmed her up with a raging fire in the tower chambers hearth, even allowing the goat to sleep by her side.
The goat had recovered quickly from their ordeal.
Emeline had not.
Rowan was dozing in a chair by her side, having sent the old woman to bed. They'd all been up nearly 48 hours now and Magda had been tottering on her feet. He'd need her when Emeline awoke. And she would wake. She had to. He didn't care anymore that she had been a frivolous young girl who'd broken his heart. She'd more than paid for it from what Magda had told her as they sat and watched over her.
Her story had wrenched at his heart. When the old Lord Fairhaven had fallen ill on his wedding night, he hadn't given up hope for an heir. Night after night he'd called her to his bedside, bade her undress, and made her stand there for an hour or more, shivering in the cold, until he conceded that his ailing body would not cooperate on that particular night.
Sometimes he'd beaten her. Other times he'd locked her in her chamber without food or water for days. She'd run away many times, only to be hauled back and punished by the guards, since her husband was too weak to do it properly.
Rowan was barely sleeping, too many thoughts competing for attention in his mind. He knew he'd have to make Emeline understand that she was not to run away again. Especially not now that he intended to wed her. But he'd have to be gentle about it.
Gentle but firm.
A murmuring woke him. It was Emeline. He leaned over her to see that her eyes were still closed. She was tossing and turning, mumbling in her sleep.
Damn.
Not awake then.
"Emeline! Emeline!"
He reached out to touch her and was shocked by the blast of heat her body was giving off. He laid his hand across her forehead. From freezing to this… delirium. Even the little goat looked concerned, nuzzling her neck with her snout.
Rowan nudged the animal off the bed and turned back to Emeline. He'd need cool cloths… what else? He needed Magda. He shouted down the stairs for the old woman and hastened back to the bed. He noticed Emeline touching her throat again and again.
The minutes ticked by painfully as he tried to gently pull her hands from her throat. But she would not be gainsaid, her hands constantly seeking and grasping.
"What is it sweeting? Are you thirsty, my love?"
"She's after her necklace. I've never seen her without the damn thing. She worries it when she's a'feared."
He turned to see Magda standing behind him. She hadn't gotten more than a few hours of sleep but she did not complain. The old woman loved Emeline too.
Loved.
It was time he admitted the truth to himself. He loved her. Emeline might not have loved him enough to stay and wed him all those years ago, but she did care for him. He was sure of it. He'd make her love him. As soon as she woke up.
"What sort of necklace?"
"It was a plain ring on a simple gold chain. Nothing compared to the jewels she wore for formal events. She hasn't been wearing it lately. I'd been meaning to ask her why."
Rowan knew why she'd hidden the necklace. It was from a man. It must be.
Jealousy blossomed in his chest, hot and painful. But she had been an innocent… perhaps she had another in her heart at one time. It didn't matter truly. He was the only one who had known her intimately.
She had to wake up so she could tell him that he was the only one… so he could tell her the same.
"I'll stoke up the fire and send for more water. We need to bathe her to get the fever down. And birch bark tea will help."
He nodded, staring at the beautiful girl lying in a pool of her own sweat.
"Sweet Jesu, speak of the devil."
He turned and watched as Madga pulled something from the fire with the tongs.
"Here it is!"
She held it up and his breath caught. He stood, took one step, and another. It couldn't be… but it was.
It was his ring. The one he'd given to Emeline when he asked her to wed with him. The plain gold band that had belonged to his mother. He could see the simple swirl that had been etched into the exterior from where he stood.
1328
He stared at the beautiful girl he'd just asked to marry him. In truth, he'd asked her to wait for him until he was able to marry her. He had no idea of what answer she would give him but he'd had to risk it before he left for battle. He
was reaching too high and he knew it. But Lady Emeline never made him feel that way.
She was staring at the simple gold ring he held with a look that he could not read. She was surprised to be sure… was that a hint of pleasure lighting up her eyes? He knew she had dozens of rings a hundred times more costly. He vowed that he would give her something to surpass them all one day. If only she'd say yes.
It had been weeks since they'd seen each other. His training had prevented him coming to her on their regular day.
Sundays. The soldiers day of rest. But they were preparing for war with the Scots so that small freedom had been withdrawn. They were leaving soon and he was given just a half day to tend to his affairs. Thank the heavens that she had come every Sunday just in case.
Faithfully.
She lifted her eyes to his at last. He marveled at the love he saw shining there.
"Will you wait for me Emeline? I swear that I will find a way to support you."
She smiled at him and laid her hand on his cheek.
"Yes Rowan. I will."
He felt himself grow taller and stronger. She did that to him. He knew he could do anything in that moment. He'd made this beautiful, perfect girl love him. By God, he had.
He slid the ring onto her finger and smiled at her. She looked serious as he pulled her into his arms. He tilted her chin up and luxuriated in the moment where he knew he would kiss her. Finally with a sigh they came together, lips pressing lips, his hands on her lower back. He longed to yank her against him but he feared his growing arousal would frighten her.
There was time enough for that when they were wed.
He lifted his face so he could memorize the beauty in his arms. He wanted to recall her face every night on the long march ahead and every time he lifted his sword in battle. He brushed his thumb over her soft cheek and smiled, still unable to believe his own good fortune.
Joanna Davis - Knights In Shining Armor Page 6
