A Dark and Stormy Knight (A Knight's Tale Book 3)

by Diane Darcy

  Anyway, for all any of them knew, his mother was fabulous.

  She smiled at Amelia. “Rupert seems like a nice enough guy to me, and time will tell.”

  Amelia suddenly clasped her hands together. “If you will talk to Wallace and my mother, I am sure they will come around.”

  Well, Wallace probably wanted to talk about his own relationship at the moment.

  Lady Helena made a scoffing noise. “Now is not the time, nor the place, Amelia. These things will be discussed at a later date.”

  “’Tis the king’s will,” Amelia said darkly.

  “Later,” Lady Helena said in a much firmer tone.

  Lips pressed tight again, Amelia stomped off, and Dori followed. Lady Helena excused herself and soon it was just Cara and Gillian, which worked out just fine as she wanted to talk to the other girl.

  “Have you spoken to your hubby about the ring?”

  Gillian’s gaze sharpened as she studied Cara. “You want to go back home?”

  Cara’s gaze immediately went to where Wallace stood among a group of men, chatting.

  He stood tall, strong, head and shoulders above some of the others.

  Everyone loved a winner.

  Wallace looked friendlier, more relaxed with the men than he’d been these last few days. It lightened her heart to see it.

  She was glad for him.

  And glad to shed the guilt.

  So, why did she have to feel such a wrenching in her heart at the thought of leaving him forever?

  Mouth parted, she turned back to Gillian and struggled to come up with a response.

  Gillian laughed. “Oh, your expression. How well I know what you’re going through.”

  “This isn’t the life I’d envisioned for myself, you know?”

  “I do. But are you sure? You and Wallace get along so well, and the way you’re looking at him right now … oh, and now he’s staring at you in a sort of dark, possessive way. Whew.” Gillian started fanning herself.

  Cara didn’t look. She knew that look well and it would weaken her resolve.

  She felt a little desperate. Almost like she could feel her will, her former life, slipping away. “I mean, don’t you miss showers? Your career? Shopping?”

  “I still have baths, surrounded by candles. I still paint, and I still get new clothes, it’s just that they are made from scratch.”

  “And your family?”

  Gillian glanced down. “My family passed away in a car accident before I met Kellen.”

  Cara’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry.”

  Gillian placed a hand on her stomach. “I gained a family here.” She gave Cara a sympathetic look. “But I can certainly understand that it would be hard for you. Who did you leave behind?”

  Cara’s eyes filled with tears as she thought about her parents. “My mom and dad. I’m an only child, so no siblings. I’ve got cousins, but we only see them every other year or so, though we do keep in touch on Facebook.”

  They both stood in silence for a long moment, and Gillian finally said, “If you’re sure, I’ll try harder with Kellen. All he’ll say is he destroyed the ring, but I’m not sure I believe him. I’ve never looked for it, and I suspect if he did hide it, it’ll be somewhere I would never find it. But I’ll talk to him again and let you know.”

  “Thank you,” Cara said, and her gaze was drawn to Wallace once more.

  He glanced up and their eyes met, and it felt as though something almost physical passed between them, an acknowledgment, certainly, but deeper and more meaningful than that.

  At the thought of never seeing him again, her throat tightened.

  If it were possible for her to go back to her real life, surely their feelings for each other would fade. She’d be relieved to have her family, and all the luxuries she’d grown up with.

  Maybe his former betrothed would have him back, now that he was Wolfsbane.

  Because this wasn’t the life for her.

  Was it?

  Wallace shot her a slight smile, a lifting of his lips, the corners curling, his dimples flashing.

  Her heart thudded and something within her seemed to settle into place.

  She wasn’t quite so sure that she wanted to, or even could, live without him.

  Wallace’s heart twisted as he held gazes with Cara, struggling to keep his expression calm, because with all the men standing around him, clamoring for his attention, he did not wish for what he felt to show in his face.

  Wearing his heart upon his sleeve would only make a mockery of him once more, and he’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  He’d been told by the group at large of the way Cara had spoken for him the night before.

  Everyone wished to tell him a piece of the story, how the woman he loved had taken up for him in such a manner. It made it all the more difficult for him to hide his feelings.

  When she turned away, ’twas almost a relief, allowing him to regain some of his composure.

  He couldn’t wait for all of this to be over, so he could have Cara to himself.

  He’d won. She was his, and by the king’s command. He wished to reclaim his properties, marry Cara, and install her as Lady of Wolfsbane.

  If he’d ever had this much luck, or happiness, or good fortune in his life, he did not remember it.

  Now, if he could only understand the expression in her eyes when she’d agreed to marry him. She’d said yes, for the second time, no less, but her eyes had not.

  Mayhap a trick caused by the cloudy day. The moment he had her alone, he’d ease her fears.

  “Wolfsbane!”

  When the king called him, Wallace was quick to excuse himself and weave his way to stand below the dais. “Your Majesty?”

  The king’s smile was sly. “The queen wondered if you would sit with us for evening meal. With the Lady Cara, of course.”

  Wallace gave the queen a slight smile and bowed. “I thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty. We would be most honored.”

  And then on the morrow, they would be on their way once more.

  He’d put this spectacle behind him, and settle back into his life.

  Only this time, with Cara at his side, it would be so much the better.

  Chapter 38

  Gossip traveled faster than wildfire around these parts, which was no different than a Hollywood movie set. So, in other words, Cara was used to it.

  By the time Wallace collected her and informed her they’d be sitting next to the king and queen at supper, she’d already known about it for at least thirty minutes.

  With aching confusion, she gazed up at him. Ever since she’d asked Gillian to ask about the ring again, she’d felt slightly sick to her stomach.

  If the ring really had been destroyed, maybe she could never go home. It wouldn’t be her fault, and she could stay with Wallace; but again, at the expense of her parents’ happiness?

  Knowing that would ruin it for her.

  Her lips curved into a slight smile even though she didn’t feel anything approaching happiness at the moment. “Great! That’ll be fun,” was all she said.

  Wallace gazed down at her. “Are you well, lass?”

  “Just a little tired. Maybe we could catch a nap before we have to get prettied up for tonight.”

  He took her hand in his and the warmth of it sent a sizzle right up her arm.

  “You already look beautiful.”

  His low tone did things to her insides, and she gave him a slight curtsy, clinging to his hand like a lifeline.

  He was her lifeline.

  Pulling her hand away, she wrapped both her arms around one of his so she could lean her head against his shoulder, both to absorb his warmth, and so he couldn’t see her expression.

  She’d miss him so much if she left.

  “Shall we walk back?”

  “All the way through the village?”

  He gave a slight laugh. “I’m afraid there is no other way. I saw my mother and sisters leave. If we hur
ry, mayhap we can catch them.”

  She glanced at the castle wall in front of her, knowing they’d have to round it and walk back through the village.

  Her feet already hurt, and it was getting chilly, but now that the king and queen were well-entertained, she doubted she’d be offered a ride back.

  “Fine,” she said, and he chuckled at her tone as they walked.

  They made their way past groups of chattering people, aristocracy and peasants alike.

  Two men wrestled on the ground, entertaining the crowd, while another beat a drum at a fast pace.

  Off to their left a man was cooking strips of meat over coals, and Cara realized for the first time she was hungry.

  When Wallace saw what had caught her attention, he stopped. “Would you like some?”

  She nodded. If she didn’t like it, she had no doubt Wallace would finish it for her.

  He paid for the meat, woven on a stick, and as they walked on, she took a bite.

  Flavor burst in her mouth. “Mm. Delicious.”

  She thought to ask what kind of meat it was, but quickly changed her mind on the assumption that some things were best not known.

  She was about to offer Wallace the next bite, when his name was called. “The king wishes to see you!”

  They both stopped walking, and he turned back, but as she wiped juice off her lips, chin, and fingers, she told him, “Go ahead. I’ll keep going and you can catch up.”

  He looked moody, stubborn, and obviously didn’t want to go. “Aye. We need to talk. To discuss your feelings on the subject of our marriage. I’ll not be a moment.”

  Oh, boy. She was actually relieved to have a slight reprieve.

  He left, and she considered walking slowly to give him time, but didn’t want to get stopped herself. Besides, if she sped up, she’d be able to catch up with Lady Helena and the girls. Maybe having his family around for the upcoming discussion wasn’t a bad idea. She could use the support as she didn’t even know her own mind at the moment.

  Decision made, she walked faster, munching on the meat snack. She kept going until she reached the outskirts of the village.

  The road took a sharp turn, and, feeling only a little guilty for not sharing, she finished the meat and threw the stick into some nearby bushes.

  She glanced back, didn’t see Wallace, but there was a line of stragglers, headed up to the castle gates, and she hurried on, hoping to overtake Wallace’s family.

  Windowless thatch-roofed huts lined the road, and she passed a smithy, door open, anvil on display. Livestock bleated from fenced areas at the sides of some of the huts.

  It did hold an appealing charm.

  There was greenery between the homes, a couple of hanging signs she couldn’t decipher, and one hut with roots hanging next to the doorway.

  There were few villagers about, most of them still enjoying the festival-type atmosphere now that the joust was over.

  The place was a lot more deserted than it had been the last time they’d made their way up this road.

  The door to her left opened, and she smiled at the huge, lumbering man, who looked like he’d spent many-a-day hauling whatever-he-darn-well-wanted.

  She was just about to greet him with a cheery hello, when he reached out, grabbed her arm, and with a mighty yank, pulled her into the cottage.

  “What?” she got out, before a hand was placed over her mouth, she was pulled tight against a large male body, and the door shut behind them.

  A peasant wouldn’t be wearing chainmail. She struggled, tried to scream, flashbacks from her earlier attack resurfacing even as her eyes rolled, and she searched the darkened interior.

  She drew air through her nose, trying to breathe, and could tell the man hadn’t bathed in a long while, but her suddenly starved lungs didn’t care.

  Eyes wide, body struggling, heart pounding, she stomped on top of the man’s boot three times, but with her soft shoes, it only hurt her foot.

  He didn’t so much as flinch.

  A soft chuckle in the darkness had her looking in that direction and, heart hammering, she rolled her eyes to see.

  Lord Dinsdale stepped out of the darkness like a movie villain in a bad script.

  She wouldn’t be surprised if he rubbed his hands together or twirled his mustache while releasing an evil laugh.

  Seriously, the guy needed to go down.

  She struggled harder against her captor but the man wouldn’t be budged.

  As Lord Dinsdale watched, obvious enjoyment in his oily dark eyes, she finally gave up and went limp against the hulking giant at her back.

  “Would you like to breathe?” Lord Dinsdale finally asked.

  Glaring daggers at the man, she nodded.

  “Here is what I propose. My man here will take his hand off of your mouth and you and I will have a conversation. Agreed?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “If you attempt to scream, I will have Jasper cover thy mouth again. We can do this all night, or we can finish our conversation quite quickly.”

  He glanced around the room, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “What say you?”

  Again, she nodded, to show she understood.

  With a nod from Lord Dinsdale, Jasper released her, his big hand on her shoulder tightening, as he slowly, slowly moved his hand away, ready to clap it over her mouth if she so much as squeaked.

  Sucking in air, she considered it, but decided getting this over with was her prime objective. “Yes?” She asked putting as much contempt in that word as she could.

  Fast as a snake strike, Lord Dinsdale slapped her across the face.

  She jerked into the man behind her, and then slowly straightened her shoulders, though she’d started to shake.

  She considered, she really did, but his expression was so pleased she couldn’t stop that mouth of hers. “You were saying?”

  He slapped her again, tearing the inside of her lip against her teeth.

  Footlicker, she thought, utilizing a term she’d heard around the castle. She dabbed at the cut with her tongue, tasted blood, and considered spitting it in his face.

  She didn’t want to get hit again and settled for pressing her lips together and glaring.

  A scoff of laughter from Lord Dinsdale had her briefly rethinking her decision, but ultimately, she wanted this over with.

  He watched her, waited for her to speak again, and when she didn’t, he smiled. “Good, very good. We shall have that discussion now.”

  She listened for Wallace, or anyone, really, hoping she’d hear footfalls or conversation and would have a chance to scream.

  Lord Dinsdale reached into his pocket and as he drew something out, Cara couldn’t help but flinch, her eyes involuntarily closing for a moment, expecting a knife, or ridiculously a gun or something.

  It took her a moment to focus on the object Lord Dinsdale dangled in front of her face.

  It was her necklace.

  Caution deserted her. “You thief!”

  He made as if to slap her again, and when she flinched, he laughed.

  “So, I am,” Lord Dinsdale responded. “Too bad there is naught you can do about it. Now, how would you like to visit Dinsdale Keep?”

  The king had not called him forward, had expressed surprise at Wallace’s appearance, and he’d excused himself as quickly as possible.

  Still, he couldn’t believe how fast Cara had disappeared.

  With his height, he could see almost everyone on the road to the castle, and there weren’t enough of them that he would mistake any for Cara.

  She literally must have run up the road.

  Mayhap she needed to use the facilities, or had some other feminine reason he vowed not to speculate upon.

  Feeling more lighthearted than he could ever remember, Wallace hurried up the road, and accepted the congratulations of anyone he passed, the guards at the gate, and the groups of people congregating in the courtyard.

  He finally made it to the tent, to find Lady Helena and his s
isters. “Where is Cara?” he asked.

  Lady Helena shook her head. “We have not seen her.” She was already starting to pack, and he was glad … anxious even, to be on his way. Mayhap they could use the weather as an excuse, and leave early.

  Straight to Wolfsbane Castle.

  The king promised him extra men, and Wallace gladly accepted his offer.

  The sooner he rousted the Dinsdales from his property, the better.

  Not that he expected Lord Dinsdale to give much of an argument, else the king might relieve him of more of his property.

  Having been in the same position himself less than a year ago, Wallace knew exactly what the other man was feeling, and satisfaction over Dinsdale’s fate settled within him.

  Roust him, his family, and his men he would.

  And quickly.

  Amelia gave his a shy glance. “Mayhap she went inside?”

  Without another word Wallace dropped the flap of the tent and headed to the keep.

  Once inside, he looked in the hall, but only servants were setting up tables and getting ready for supper.

  Cara was nowhere to be seen.

  He asked a couple of servants if they’d seen Cara, but no one had.

  He sent one of the servants upstairs to let Cara know he was waiting.

  About ten minutes later the lass came back down and, with the timid shake of her head said, “I’m sorry, my lord.”

  Without another word he went back outside, thinking mayhap he’d missed her somehow, and soon opened the flap to his family’s tent once more. After a quick scan, he said, “I cannot find Cara.”

  His mother looked up from the note she was reading. Her face was pale, and her mouth gaped but no words came out.

  “What is it?” His voice was harsher than he intended.

  She shook her head and quickly handed the note over.

  Wallace straightened outside and read it.

  Dear Lady Helena. As per usual, your family has harmed mine.

  Do you remember the night that you almost wed me rather than Wolfsbane?