Forbidden Kisses

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Graden had stopped in the keep and replenished his supplies of bread and ale before hurrying toward the stables. He made it halfway across the empty courtyard when he heard her voice.

  “Dumount!”

  He paused in the middle of the inner ward, part of him wanting to flee, part wanting to see her again, perhaps for the last time. He waited for her.

  When Ella stood before him, she asked, “Did you kill him for the blue rose?”

  Confusion washed over Graden. “What?”

  “Did you kill Edwin to get information about the blue rose?”

  “No.” He stepped past her and continued toward the stables.

  “Liar!” She raced after him.

  “Why do you ask me questions if you’ve already formulated an answer?”

  She grabbed his arm, halting him. “I think he wouldn’t tell you about the blue rose and you killed him.”

  “That’s not what happened. I would have asked him, if I hadn’t been drunk.” He pulled his arm free of her hold. “But I never got around to asking him.”

  “Where are you going now? Are you leaving?”

  “What do you care?” He continued across the ward.

  She raced after him.

  God’s blood, she was annoying! He stopped suddenly and whirled on her. She was so close she almost collided with him. He caught her arms, steadying her. “What do you want of me? Why are you chasing me?”

  “Are you leaving?”

  “I have work to attend to. You should be happy I am leaving. It’s what you’ve wanted all along.” But he could not release her. His gaze swept her face. Such smooth, soft skin, her bowed lips, that pert nose and those eyes that sparkled in the moonlight.

  She scowled. When she spoke, there was no condemnation in her tone, only pleading. “Why did you kill Edwin?”

  He released her and stepped back as if his touch would somehow taint her. He ran a hand through his hair. “It was an accident. I certainly didn’t mean…” He wet his lips with his tongue and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I was drunk. He was drunk. I simply wanted…him to be silent.”

  Ella’s gaze moved over his face as if she were trying to decipher the truth.

  He straightened. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I hit him because his yelling was giving me a headache. I thought the blow light, just enough force to knock him out.”

  She stood still, her features clouded with anguish.

  Graden had known only self-recrimination these years. He had blamed himself for the boy’s death, but it had been an accident. He had found comfort in the thought. But seeing the agony in her sweet face brought more self-loathing than he had ever experienced. He turned away and moved toward a saddled horse.

  She grabbed his arm to stop him. “And what of this blue rose you search for? Is that why you are running off?”

  “Blue rose? How do you –?”

  “Thomas told me that you searched for it. It was what the woman wanted, wasn’t it? The blue rose. That is the payment.”

  He sighed softly and looked toward the gatehouse of Castle Rames. “For my father’s life.”

  Ella scowled. “I don’t understand why you didn’t just stop looking?”

  He looked at her in disbelief. “I already told you. I have my honor to uphold. I gave my word. It is my vow.”

  She released his arm and lifted her chin. “I know the blue rose. I’ve heard of it.”

  “You have?” His heart skipped a beat in his excitement. “Have you seen it? Do you know where it is?”

  She shook her head. “No. My mother told me stories of a blue rose. She said it was magical and wonderful. She told me that wondrous things happened when it bloomed.”

  “Is that why you started the gardens?”

  “Yes. I wanted… I wanted to feel the magic and wonder of the flower. I thought that if I could see the blue rose bloom, if I could somehow grow it, that she would always be with me.” She looked down.

  “Ella,” Graden whispered, drawn to her, wanting to comfort her.

  “And then you killed Edwin.”

  Graden froze. He closed his fingers which were reaching for her, shutting himself off.

  “And I thought that if I could get the blue rose to bloom, he might…” She twisted her hands before her.

  “Ella. I didn’t mean… I never meant to hurt you. It was an accident. A stupid accident. This rose that I am looking for will set me free. I have to find it.”

  She scowled thoughtfully, and he moved toward his horse again. “I’m going with you,” she said.

  Graden whirled on her. “Do you know where it is?”

  “No.”

  He turned to his horse, tying the bag of food to the saddle. “Then you are not coming.”

  “I know some places it could be. There is an abandoned farmhouse on the outer border of our land and…”

  “No,” he snapped. “You can’t come. I don’t want responsibility for you.”

  She narrowed her eyes and signaled to a young boy emerging from the stables. “Bring me my mare.”

  “I said no.” Graden mounted his steed.

  Her jaw lifted in stubbornness. “Then I shall search for it on my own.”

  He almost growled. “You can’t go by yourself, unprotected. Alone.” He silently cursed himself. He never should have told her. Maybe she felt sympathy for him. Maybe sorrow, but either way, if he had not told her about her brother, she would have continued to hate him, and it would have been better that way. It would have been simple to leave with her animosity toward him. “I don’t have time to protect you. I have to search for the rose.”

  The stable boy was bringing a saddled mare out of the stables.

  “Two sets of eyes will be better than one. I can help you.”

  Too late. Too late. Graden ground his teeth, his hands tightening over the reins. “You have no food. No coin. You are not ready for a trip.”

  She bent and whispered something to the stable boy. He hurried into the keep. She pulled herself up onto the mare and swung her leg over the side to sit full saddle.

  Graden’s eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. He expected her to sit side saddle like the ladies of the castle always did.

  She spurred her horse. “I’m sure we’ll find something. Coming?” She cantered her horse toward the gatehouse and the outer ward.

  Graden stared after her, shocked and dismayed. He was certain she would slow him down. He was certain she didn’t know what she was getting into. But she knew roses. She knew gardens. And with that thought came hope. Perhaps she would be of some help.

  At midday, the sun rose high above their heads. They had been traveling all morning. Graden followed Ella’s lead toward the thicket, trusting her even though some of the peasants he had spoken with earlier had suggested searching the hills.

  He had never been certain there were others looking for the rose until Ella told him what the witch wanted as payment from her. Now, he knew his time was running out. He would never give up the search for finding the rose, his payment to the witch. It was his duty, his mission. He had to pay the witch for her potion to cure his father, no matter how long it took.

  His horse lowered its head. Graden saw the sweat running down the animal’s neck. He hated to stop, but the horses needed to rest. Graden spurred his steed so it was beside Ella. “The horses need to rest.”

  She stopped the mare to look around. “There,” she pointed to the distant ridge. “There is a stream there.” She turned her horse and headed in that direction.

  Graden followed. When they came to the top of the slopping hill, Graden saw the small stream. It was wide enough for the horses to get drink and nearby trees provided a shaded spot to rest.

  Ella slid from her mare and led it to the stream. She patted its side and allowed it to drink.

  Graden swung his leg from his steed and followed her lead. “Where did you say we should look for the blue rose?”

  “The thicket jus
t over the ridge near the river. A lot of wild flowers and wild roses grow there. And the abandoned farmhouse on the northern edge of my lands near the waterfall.” She shook her head. “Truthfully, wild roses can grow anywhere there is sunshine. Always keep your eye open for it.”

  Graden looked off into the distance. He didn’t know where either of these places were, but he was certain he could find them if he asked the villagers. He looked at her. “You should return to the castle. I can find the rose. Miles will be worried.”

  She looked at him, her blue eyes flashing. She lifted her chin. “I’m going with you. So, don’t try to get rid of me. I sent word to Miles where I was.”

  Graden frowned. How had she gotten word to her brother? He had been with her the entire… Realization struck him. The stable boy! “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you suddenly interested in helping me?”

  Ella looked away from him, gently patting her mare. “I would like to find this blue rose, also. As I said, my mother often spoke of it.”

  “Ella,” he called imploringly. “Please tell me you didn’t make a deal with the witch.”

  Silence settled around them.

  Graden silently cursed. He knew it! “You’re looking for the rose, too, aren’t you? For payment.”

  “I’m looking for it,” she acquiesced.

  He sighed and leaned back against a tree, staring up at the clouds. “Part of me doesn’t regret the deal I made with her. I had two years with my father.” He dropped his chin to his chest. “But part of me wishes I had never made that deal. She took my life.”

  Ella turned to him, shocked.

  “I’ve spent every free moment searching. No time to fall in love. No time to start a family or see to my lands.”

  “Why don’t you just… stop looking for it?”

  He chuckled but there was no humor. “I wish I could. It weighs on me, consumes my every thought. It is a debt I must pay.”

  Ella turned back to her mare. She ran a comforting hand over the brown hide.

  His gaze swept her, summing her up. Stubborn; she would never stop looking for the rose. Pleasing to look at; curves hidden beneath her velvet dress and her long, dark hair hanging in waves around her shoulders and down her back. He could easily get used to having her near him, by his side.

  Ella lifted her gaze and for a moment, they locked eyes. Caught off guard, Graden saw a vulnerability in Ella’s blue eyes. A strange need arose in him, softening his defenses for just a moment before she lifted her chin, almost daring him to… What? What did she want of him?

  He pushed himself from the tree and moved to his horse, pulling the supply pack from its back. When he looked back at her, she was kneeling at the side of the stream to splash water on her face and over the back of her neck.

  A lady should not have to go into the countryside to search for flowers. The thought startled him. Maybe it was he who should not be looking for flowers. He opened his bag. “Legend has it that at the crucifixion of our Lord, when His blood dripped onto the moss at the base of the cross, roses grew.”

  Ella looked up, startled. “I’ve never heard that.”

  Graden felt compelled to hold her interest. And it was interest; there was no hate or condemnation. He wanted it to continue. “There is another ancient legend of a nightingale who loved the white rose.” Graden pulled out a small loaf of bread. He broke it in two and held one part out to her. “The little bird flew down and embraced the white rose and was pierced by her thorns. From the drops of the nightingale’s blood grew red roses.”

  Ella rose and crossed to him, taking the bread with interest in her eyes.

  Graden took a bite of his bread, trying to remember another lore about roses.

  “Mother told me that roses are a little bit like children. They need care to survive. In winter, their beds must be cleaned to prevent disease.” She grinned as she took a bite of the bread. “Who would have thought roses had beds?”

  Graden grinned. “Your mother taught you a lot about roses.”

  “How did you learn so much about them?”

  “I’ve been searching for the blue rose for a long time. Some of the legends I’ve come across in my travels were interesting. Take the tale of Merlin and how the Lady of the Lake trapped him.”

  Ella nodded. “I know this one. While he was walking through the forest, she trapped him in a tower created from a white rose.”

  Graden smiled. He was enjoying the time he was spending with her. Her enthusiasm was fresh and contagious.

  “I’ve often wondered how such a beautiful flower could also have such deadly thorns.”

  Graden chuckled. “Those thorns have pricked many who have gone after the rose. I see them as guardians, knights, if you will. Guarding the beauty at the top of the castle.”

  Ella stared at him with wide, awed eyes for so long that Graden became uncomfortable. He looked away from her with embarrassment. “I know it is a silly fancy.”

  “That’s beautiful. I never thought of them that way.”

  Graden’s gaze snapped to her. She cast him a grin that opened a longing inside of him. Like a blooming flower it spread through his entire body. He liked the way her lips curled up in a smile and the way her large blue eyes glistened in the sun. Not with hatred, but with… He shook himself. What was he doing? They had no time for this. He had to find the rose.

  “We should get moving.” He walked to his horse, tying the sack closed and tying it to the saddle. He didn’t have time for fancy or legends.

  Ella stopped her mare before the thicket. The dense growth of trees and shrubbery revealed no sight of colorful flowers. It stretched far back, branches twining around each other as if preventing their entrance into the wilderness. Ella dismounted. The horses would never be able to walk through the bushes.

  Graden dismounted. “You stay here with the horses.”

  Ella didn’t listen to him. She led her mare to a tree and tied the reins around a branch. “If we split up we can look faster.”

  “We are not splitting up.”

  “You said to stay with the horses. That would have been splitting up.”

  Graden ignored her and started into the thicket. “I don’t see any flowers.”

  Ella moved forward, holding her skirt up so it wouldn’t get tangled in the brush. She bent to push aside some of the bushes. “Make sure to check beneath the weeds. Sometimes the weeds try to choke the roses.” She yanked her hand back, shaking it. “Watch for the thorns.”

  Graden followed behind her.

  Ella wished she had wore her boots, but she had not planned to be searching through a thicket. She looked for roses, but as they continued searching, she could barely find the blooms of any flowers.

  Time passed. She couldn’t help but think of Graden searching relentlessly for the blue rose. Would she have made the same deal with the woman to save Edwin’s life? She would. And she could have easily been caught in the same trap that Graden was in. Searching. She paused, twisting to stretch her back and cast a glance over her shoulder at Graden.

  He was lifting a bush with his gloved hands, searching. He plucked something from deep in the shade and brought it out. The flower was light blue.

  Ella gasped as hope soared within her. She rose from her knees and took a step toward him. Her excitement faded as she spotted the flower in his hand. It was not a rose.

  He tossed it aside and continued to look. His determination startled her. For a moment, she was awed. He didn’t let the failure stop him from his mission. He just…continued the search.

  It was a strange sight to see such a strong man bent over, searching for a small flower. She couldn’t get the image he had created of the rose out of her mind. The thorns as knights, the rose as the beauty in the tower. It was a strange thing for a knight of his stature to imagine. But she was learning that he was not who she thought he was.

  She shook herself. She should be searching just as diligently as he. She nodded to herself and turned away, unsettled by the wa
rm feeling for him that sprang forth. She pushed them aside, determined not to have feelings for him. Not for the man who had killed Edwin.

  But even though she knew what he had done, she had seen his remorse. And ever since she had visited the woman in the woods, there was something…different in the way she viewed him. Softer, more tolerant. She didn’t believe in witches or she might have thought the woman put some sort of spell on her. Was this a taste of what it would be like not to be so sad?

  “Here.”

  She whirled. Graden stood behind her, his hand outstretched offering gloves.

  “I remember the scratch on your hand in the garden.”

  Ella’s gaze dropped to the gloves. His gloves. The thought of wearing his gloves seemed somehow intimate and caused a flush to spread over her cheeks. As she stared at his gloves, she noticed a thin red line, a cut, on one of his bent fingers. “Perhaps I will take one and you can keep one.” She took one of the offered gloves.

  His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded in agreement.

  She slid the glove over her hand and turned away to hide the blush she felt rising within her. The glove was much too big on her hand, but it would serve its purpose and protect her.

  As she bent near another clump of brush and heard his footfalls moving away, she couldn’t resist a glance at him over her shoulder. She liked the ease at which she could talk to him, she liked the feeling of comfort when she was around him. She liked him. And somehow, that thought made her smile.

  As he looked through the brambles and sticks of the thicket, Graden’s mind wandered. He never expected Ella to stubbornly come with him, but he was glad she was here. They would be able to search the thicket quicker. As it was, he sometimes thought he could have missed the rose. It could grow anywhere. But he never lost hope. He had given his word to find the rose. And he would.