Stolen Brides: Four Beauty-and-the-Beast Medieval Romances

by Claire Delacroix

  Not at fair or tryst could I be.’

  ‘I could not speak to prince or peer;

  Nor ask of grace from fair ladies.’”

  Ruari laughed heartily at Thomas’ protest, and Vivienne sang.

  “‘Now, hold thy peace! the lady said;

  ‘For as I bid you, it must be.

  Farewell, Thomas, without any guile;

  You may no longer linger with me.’

  ‘Lovely lady, abide a while,

  And some fair tale tell you to me.’

  “Ah, and these would be her prophecies,” Erik said when Vivienne paused for breath.

  “Indeed, they are,” Vivienne agreed. “She made many regarding the fate of Scotland, all of which have proven to be true.” She might have raised her voice again, but Erik halted her with a fingertip upon her shoulder.

  “Then it is a good place to leave the tale until the morrow,” he said. He indicated the eastern sky and Vivienne noted with surprise that it was lightening. They had passed Haddington near the beginning of her song and now the dark profile of Edinburgh rose ahead of them. She had been so intent upon singing the tale that she had not noticed the miles slipping away.

  “There is a gully to the south of the road here, well hidden from curious eyes,” Erik said, and she was struck again by his knowledge of this area. “I would halt there for the day and have you continue your tale this night.”

  Ruari looked displeased at this prospect. “At least accept my counsel that we not all huddle together. We could be too readily surprised then, no less cornered.”

  “There will not be pursuit, Ruari,” Erik said firmly. “The lady’s brother and I have agreed, after all.”

  Ruari snorted. “Which would explain, of course, why that man placed a price upon your head in Kinfairlie market. I am unpersuaded of the merit of this agreement, lad, just as I am unpersuaded that the lady did not truly summon her family to us, but I shall follow your bidding, dutiful servant that I am. You might at least follow my lead in ensuring that we are not readily discovered.”

  Erik inclined his head in agreement, and Ruari led them on a tortuous path far north of the copse Erik had indicated. He marched the horses through a stream, emerging from one side and the other repeatedly then traveling far downstream before letting the horses climb the banks again. Vivienne did not doubt that he chose the rocky bank deliberately. Even so, he brushed the ground behind them with a clutch of bracken, though Vivienne could see no evidence of their passing.

  Finally, they circled back toward the gorse and Ruari pointed to a trio of haystacks, which must have been newly harvested. “I shall keep a vigil from there.” With nary a backward glance, he dismounted and led his horse away.

  “He is vexed with you, despite my tale.”

  “He worries overmuch,” Erik said mildly, then dismounted in his turn. “Though there is no doubting his loyalty.” He made to lift Vivienne down, but she lifted his hands away from her waist and slipped from the saddle herself.

  “You are more sorely injured than you would admit,” she scolded quietly. The grass was thick and green here, and she could hear the trickle where the stream began. The trees clustered thickly around the bubbling water and Vivienne imagined that they would be well concealed in that shady haven.

  She watched Erik lead the horse toward the verdant shadows and winced anew at his limp. She must ensure that he rested this day in truth—not pacing its duration as he tended to do—and she had suddenly a good idea of how that might be achieved.

  She hastened after him and caught his sleeve in her fingertips. “Do you think it true, what Ruari said?”

  “Which detail of what Ruari said do you mean? He says a great deal.” Erik removed the saddlebags as he spoke, then unfastened Fafnir’s saddle and lifted it to the ground. He cast the reins over the steed’s head and Fafnir bent to nibble at the thick grass.

  Vivienne fetched the brush that he used upon the horse and handed it to him, ensuring that she granted him a caress in the transaction. “That it would be uncommon for a mortal man to mate seven times in quick succession, of course,” she said, feeling herself flush even as she made the suggestion. “It seems to me that that might be a good scheme for conceiving a son in haste.”

  To her delight, a twinkle lit in Erik’s blue eyes and that elusive smile touched his lips. “It seems as much to you, does it?”

  Vivienne’s cheeks heated further as she nodded.

  “Then I can only offer my own best effort. No man of merit, after all, leaves a lady’s curiosity unsated.”

  “It is not my curiosity I would have you sate!” Vivienne said mischievously and was rewarded by his fleeting grin.

  Then Erik laid a finger across her lips. “I would never say as much, though it might well be true.”

  Vivienne had no chance to reply for he quickly replaced the warmth of his fingertip with the heat of his kiss, and truly, she had no complaint with that.

  Chapter 8

  Vivienne awakened at the sound of a barking dog. It was not simply the bark of a local peasant’s dog, for numerous dogs barked in unison and with some anxiety. There were hounds on the hunt, Vivienne realized when she heard the thunder of horses’ hoof beats along with the dogs’ baying.

  Who would hunt so close to Edinburgh?

  She spared a glance to the darkening sky and nestled into Erik’s embrace once more, reluctant as she was to move. He moved away, to her surprise, his gestures brusque.

  “Rise,” he bade her. Vivienne might have protested but he turned upon her, his eyes blazing blue. “Immediately!”

  Fearful of whatever he anticipated, Vivienne found her boots. She managed to don only one before the bush around them began to snap with vigor. The hounds barked closer at hand, hunting birds cried overhead.

  She glanced up in fear. The pair of them were surrounded by snarling dogs and stamping horses. A good dozen knights stood with their swords drawn and directed at Erik and Vivienne, their visors closed.

  She and Erik were the prey they hunted. The men’s gleaming armor and bright swords revealed that they expected a battle.

  Vivienne’s heart pounded so hard that she thought it might leap from her chest. Erik eased her behind him, pulling his sword as he did so. With his other hand, he slipped something cold into her belt.

  It was his father’s blade. She felt the cool stone in the hilt and knew it to be so.

  But why?

  Vivienne was confused, though she pulled her cloak closed so that the weapon could not be seen. She dared to don her other boot. Did Erik expect her to fight by his side? Did he know these men? What had he done when last he had passed this way?

  “Leave the lady be and I will not fight your capture of me,” Erik said, his voice ringing with authority. “There is no reason for her to be harmed.”

  He stood proudly then, his blade raised as he confronted the party. He was sorely outnumbered and Vivienne yearned to aid him, but knew she should keep his blade hidden until she could surprise an assailant.

  The men’s horses, which had obviously run hard, exhaled clouds into the late afternoon shadows. One blade then gleamed as the man bearing it urged his horse closer.

  A terrified Vivienne followed the gleaming length of the sword to the man who wielded it. He pushed back his visor, his expression harsh but his features familiar.

  “Alexander!” Vivienne was so filled with relief that her knees weakened. Whatever fate Erik had feared had not come to pass.

  Her brother, though, neither shared her pleasure nor acknowledged her words. Erik did not ease his stance and the air fairly crackled between them.

  ’Twas then that Vivienne recalled that Alexander had put a price upon Erik’s head.

  “She has doubtless been harmed already!” Alexander said to Erik, his anger clear. “You broke your pledge to me, Nicholas Sinclair, and I will see my sister avenged.”

  Vivienne blinked in confusion before she remembered that Alexander thought Erik to be his bro
ther, Nicholas. Clearly there were many misunderstandings to be resolved! She stepped forward and raised a finger to explain the truth to all involved, for surely that was the best way to diffuse the tension.

  Erik shoved her behind him with such vigor that she nearly tripped on her hem. “And you will have to hew me down to reclaim your sister, unless you pledge her safety.”

  “Put your blade aside,” Alexander bade Erik grimly. “The lady is safe with us, and you cannot fight us all. Save yourself from injury and come peacefully.”

  “There is no need for such hostility, for you see, all has been resolved,” Vivienne said cheerfully but the men ignored her. “I can explain, if you will simply sheath your blades anew.”

  Alexander did no such thing. He dismounted, then moved Erik’s sword aside with the tip of his blade. “She is my sister,” he said quietly when Erik might have protested. “It is my intent to defend her honor, thus you may be certain that she will be safer in my company than in yours.” He then offered Vivienne his own hand, his gaze unswerving from a silent Erik. “Are you injured, Vivienne?”

  “No, of course not.”

  If anything, Alexander looked more dour. His fingers closed tightly around her own. “And have you been to a chapel to exchange your nuptial vows, as Nicholas and I agreed you would?”

  Vivienne looked between the two men who regarded each other with stony expressions. “No,” she admitted. “But we have pledged a handfast…”

  “Lammergeiers do not handfast!” Alexander roared, his eyes snapping with anger. “We wed, in chapels, with the blessing of priests, and thus our children are legitimate in the eyes of God and men.” He jabbed his sword in Erik’s direction. “Our agreement was that you and my sister would wed!”

  “And so it was,” Erik said softly. “The lady and I chose another course.”

  Alexander drew himself taller, though he was still shorter than Erik, and spoke through gritted teeth. “I granted you the chance you asked of me, I showed you the honor of my trust, and in return, you have betrayed both me and my sister. You have forsaken my hospitality, despoiled my family name and treated my sister with dishonor.”

  “I did what I know to be right,” Erik said.

  “This is not right. You owe compense to Kinfairlie, that is what I know to be right.”

  It was evident that the two of them would not resolve this matter by themselves. Vivienne stepped between the pair and raised her hands. “Alexander, you do not fully understand and I am certain that once all is explained, you…”

  “I understand all that I have need of understanding!” Alexander said, and pulled Vivienne roughly to his side.

  “But, Alexander!” Vivienne was determined to intervene. “There have been injustices wrought…”

  Alexander turned a cold eye upon her. “The injustice, in this case, has been wrought against you!” He was still furious, and that he was angered on her behalf did little to reassure Vivienne.

  He took a shaking breath, then studied her face. “I care only for your future, Vivienne,” he said more quietly and she nodded, knowing this to be true. His voice dropped lower. “There is an injustice here that cannot go unpunished, for I will do no part to encourage our land’s descent into lawless chaos.” He held her gaze. “Unless, against all odds, you are yet a maiden.”

  Vivienne flushed crimson and found nary a word upon her tongue. Indeed, the entire company seemed to hold their breath, so interested were they in her reply. Despite Alexander’s low tone, all seemed to have heard his words. A dozen men, familiar and unfamiliar, watched her with undisguised fascination.

  Vivienne turned to meet the vivid gleam of Erik’s gaze. He said nothing, his gaze unblinking and without judgment. What did he wish for her to say? She felt the hilt of his father’s blade pressing against her ribs and guessed that he did not trust her kin.

  And there was good sense in that. The truth would condemn Erik in her brother’s eyes, and she feared that Alexander would have his vengeance before his temper cooled.

  “What will you do to him?” she asked, not looking away from Erik.

  “I would not sully a woman’s ears with the details,” Alexander said, his manner ruthless. “But no man who despoils a sister of mine will ever soil a maiden again.”

  Vivienne felt the color drain from her face, for she believed that Alexander would do as he threatened. His reputation as a competent judge and firm upholder of the law was justly earned and she knew he would not waver from the strict letter of the law.

  And Erik had broken his pledge.

  But unless she had already conceived—which seemed unlikely—Alexander’s punishment would ensure that Erik would not be able to conceive the son necessary to win back his daughters and Blackleith.

  She held Erik’s fate in his hands. And he merely returned her stare, demanding nothing of her, expecting nothing of any of them.

  It was, after all, what he had learned to expect from those who surrounded him. Vivienne’s heart clenched that she, she who wanted so much to aid him, could be the one to ensure his failure simply by telling the truth.

  She could lie. It was against her nature to tell a falsehood and she knew she would do it badly, but Vivienne refused to betray Erik.

  “I am yet a maiden,” she declared with vigor, feeling her cheeks burn even as she held her head high. “For I have been unclean these past days.”

  Another man pushed back his visor and Vivienne recognized her uncle Tynan. “Speak plainly, Vivienne, for much is at stake! Do you mean that your monthly courses have begun?”

  Vivienne nodded, willing for Erik’s sake to bear the shame of confessing to such a thing before a company of men.

  “Swear it,” Alexander demanded.

  Vivienne swallowed. “I swear that I am yet a maiden.”

  The men began to whisper immediately, though Erik’s eyes narrowed. Vivienne turned away from the censure in his gaze, guessing that he did not like that she lied.

  Surely he understood though that a small deception in this circumstance was less costly than the truth might be.

  Alexander was not as readily persuaded as Vivienne had hoped, his doubt more than clear. He studied her, his skepticism clear, and she knew that he would have liked to have asked her sisters for verification of the timing of her bleeding.

  Vivienne feared that he might demand to see the blood, here and now, and spoke hastily to keep him from making such a request. “Only a barbarian would have bedded a woman in such a state, after all.”

  Erik’s lips tightened to a thin line and he averted his gaze. Vivienne hoped that he feigned a greater disgust with her than he felt.

  “And what of you? Did you bed the lady?” Alexander demanded of Erik.

  Erik seemed to have been struck to stone, so long did he stand in watchful silence. “I stand by the lady’s word, of course,” he said finally, his words taut.

  Still he did not so much as glance at Vivienne. Perhaps he believed her lie and was disappointed that they had not wrought his son as yet. She yearned to confess the truth to him, that she did not yet abandon their quest, that she did not bleed, that the pledge she had made to him to bear his son was more binding that this lie she had sworn to be truth to her own brother.

  She had a terrible sense that he might not believe her.

  “Every soul knows that only monsters are wrought during a woman’s time,” Alexander said.

  Erik granted Alexander a scornful glance. “And even barbarians such as myself have no desire for misshapen children.”

  Alexander snapped his fingers and moved with decisiveness. “Seize him then!” He grasped Vivienne’s elbow and turned to march back to his steed. “We ride for Kinfairlie without delay!”

  “But, Alexander!” Vivienne struggled against her brother’s grip, only managing to shake free when she was trapped between Alexander’s destrier and Tynan’s black stallion.

  Tynan studied her, his gaze as avid as that of one of his ravens, and Vivienne fought th
e urge to fidget. “If this man has not injured Vivienne, then there is no reason to pursue the matter,” he said with care.

  “He has broken a pledge to me and must face the consequence of that,” Alexander insisted.

  “Unless Vivienne chooses to wed him now,” Tynan suggested. “Indeed, such a course might ensure that no malicious tales stain her repute.”

  Alexander heaved a sigh, then turned his attention to Vivienne. “If you insist upon it, I will not protest this match,” he said and her heart leaped. “Though surely you must know that I would counsel you against it. You can wed better, Vivienne, than to a man whose tongue so readily utters a lie, better than to wed Nicholas Sinclair.”

  Once again, the company turned their attention upon Vivienne.

  Here was Vivienne’s chance to wed Erik honorably!

  But Vivienne did not want a marriage devoid of love, and one glance in Erik’s direction was all the evidence she needed that he still loved his late wife Beatrice. He regarded her coldly, almost certainly doubting her ability to provide him with his son.

  It was clear that Vivienne had not loosed that woman’s grasp upon his heart, though admittedly she had had little time to do so. She supposed she should have been glad that Erik had known such a potent love, one that endured forever as the love in all great tales did, but she was ashamed to find herself disappointed.

  Vivienne turned away, fighting the tears that stung her eyes. The fact remained that she could not bear the prospect of her choice costing Erik all he held dear. Erik’s reasons for desiring a handfast were wrought of such good sense that she would not, could not, compel him to abandon them.

  His daughters deserved better.

  But neither would Vivienne abandon her pledge to Erik. She had vowed to try to bear his son and she meant to keep her word. If so doing meant that she could not wed honorably, that seemed to Vivienne to be a small price to pay for the security of two little girls.

  Which left her with several tasks. First, she had to ensure that Erik was left whole, so that he could conceive a son, and then she had to ensure that he was free to do so. As much as she hated to deceive her brother and uncle, Vivienne could not condemn Erik’s daughters to whatever fate Nicholas might find for them.