Authors: Laurel O'Donnell
Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #medieval romance, #laurel odonnell
“Then you can explain to him exactly what you
were doing to his daughter before she suddenly vanished.” Gawyn’s
smile grew. “Don’t threaten me, brother.”
Damien’s foot lowered on Gawyn’s neck,
choking him. “And how did you know what I was doing? If you do,
then you know where she is.”
Gawyn gasped and attempted to push Damien’s
foot from his neck. “Lady Helen told me,” he wheezed. “I convinced
her to keep it a secret from Lord Gabriel. But maybe I was wrong in
the matter.”
“Helen is no lady,” Damien said. “Her words
are pure poison. I would not believe one thing she uttered,
especially where Aurora is involved.” Damien lifted his foot a
fraction, allowing Gawyn to breathe. “She was the one who told you
I was with Aurora? If she saw me with Aurora, she must have seen
who struck me from behind.”
“She said she had come to the north tower and
discovered you. She was in tears when I happened upon her.” Gawyn’s
impertinent smile grew. “Looks like you still have a way with the
ladies.”
Damien ignored his brother’s statement and
looked down at him. “You really don’t have her,” he stated.
“How can I slit her throat if someone else
has her?” Gawyn asked. “It’s in my best interest to get her back.”
Damien reluctantly removed his foot from Gawyn’s throat. Gawyn
rolled to his feet, rubbing his neck, and studied Damien. “Tell me
this. And tell me truthfully because it could mean the difference
between another assassin and a jealous woman. Does your concern
stem from your job or do you actually have feelings for Lady
Aurora?”
Damien turned away from Gawyn. There was a
time when Gawyn knew him better than anyone. But that had been long
ago. Now, Damien wanted Gawyn to know nothing about him. “I don’t
want to see her hurt,” he replied.
Gawyn narrowed his eyes slightly, studying
him. “Ah, ah, ah,” he said, wagging a finger at him. “You didn’t
answer the question. How involved are your feelings for her?”
Damien glowered at him. “I’m involved more
than any sane man should be,” he said. “How’s that for your damn
answer?”
Gawyn was quiet for a long moment as he
stared at his brother. Finally, he shook his head sadly. “You
should have kept your distance.”
Damien looked earnestly at his brother. “Damn
you, but I need you to help me find her.”
He shrugged. “I’ve looked. I’ve been looking
since they found you yesterday. Whoever took her is good. There’s
no trail. Nothing. It’s like she vanished. Just like that. Gone. No
one saw anyone leave the castle. No one saw anything inside the
castle.” Gawyn shook his head. “It would be pretty embarrassing if
another assassin got to her, huh?”
Damien would not let himself even imagine
that possibility. He wanted to smash the smug look right off his
brother’s face, but his head throbbed mercilessly.
“The problem is that it happened late at
night,” Gawyn continued. “And the north tower is very secluded.
Only the guards do a patrol there, as you well know. It’s raining,
too. So any blood or footprints have long been washed away.”
“It can’t be coincidence it happened as my
time was running out,” Damien said. “Have you checked Castle
Roke?”
“Roke does not have her. Of that, I’m
certain.”
“I’ll find her,” Damien proclaimed and moved
toward the Great Hall.
Lord Gabriel paced the middle of the Great
Hall, his hands knotted in fists behind his back. He ignored the
servants huddled near the wall whispering amongst themselves.
Rupert rushed in and dropped to his knee
before him.
Gabriel ignored the exhaustion lining
Rupert’s eyes. He ignored the streams of water running from his
tunic and hair. “Tell me you found her,” Gabriel ordered.
Rupert looked away from his Lord’s order.
Gabriel closed his eyes in anguish and turned
away from Rupert. He wanted to cry out until Aurora was found.
Frustration tightened in the pit of his stomach.
“She is not in the village. The peasants
would have stopped anyone who tried to take her. I have men
searching the forest now,” Rupert said. “We will find her.”
“It is getting dark,” he whispered, fear and
terror entwining their way into his heart. He shook his head. “She
has been gone for almost one complete day. This will be the second
night. Two nights.” He closed his eyes tightly.
Rupert rose. “I swear to you we will find
her.”
Gabriel turned to him, desperation swirling
around him like a fog. “No one rests until she is returned to me.
No one.”
Rupert sighed, obviously weary. “Aye,
m’lord.” He left the room.
Gabriel ran a hand over his beard. Where is
she? If anyone harmed her… He spied Damien coming toward him across
the Great Hall. His eyes widened in rage. “What the devil
happened?” he asked, storming across the room to meet him halfway.
“You were supposed to protect her!”
Damien stood tall, his face grim. “I believe
she still might be somewhere on the castle grounds, Lord Gabriel.
No one has seen her leave.”
Lord Gabriel clenched his fists tightly.
“Damn it, man! You were supposed to guard her.”
Damien remained calm. “What about scorned
suitors?”
Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “There are a handful
of suitors that thought they were more worthy than Ormand.” Gabriel
waved his hand in the air. “But none have passed close to
Acquitaine’s borders. And my daughter is still missing. For two
nights now.” His shoulders sagged as he put a hand to his forehead.
“Two nights.” He shook his head. “You were supposed to protect
her.”
Damien did not move.
Gabriel shook his head as he stared at the
stranger he entrusted with Aurora’s life. What did he know of him?
Nothing. He had followed his instincts and now Aurora was gone. “I
hold you personally responsible for Aurora’s disappearance.”
Damien did not move. He accepted the blame
without blinking an eye.
In any other circumstance, Gabriel would have
admired Damien’s accountability. But this was Aurora. This was
about his only daughter. He could not tolerate Damien’s failure. He
couldn’t stand that his instincts had been wrong. Gabriel
straightened his shoulders. “You are dismissed.”
Damien stared at him for a long moment. Then,
he nodded and whirled.
Gabriel watched Damien depart the Great Hall.
Damien had failed him. He had failed Aurora. But if that were so
true, Gabriel wondered why he felt his only hope was walking out of
his castle.
T
he rain beat
a steady crescendo upon Damien as he urged Imp out of the castle,
and over the drawbridge. Darkness had fallen long ago. Damien
turned Imp off the road and moved him along the side of the castle.
He was fully rationed for a long search with flasks of water, some
ale, bread, salted meat and other bits of food. Numerous weapons
were also within quick reach, some on the horse and many secured on
his body in various places for fast access.
Damien dismounted, his booted feet sloshing
in a puddle as he touched the ground. He patted Imp softly on his
flanks as he moved around the animal. He knew where to start. The
postern. The back entrance was the only way out of the castle that
would be hidden from easy sight of the guards. A perfect route for
kidnapping. But one had to know where the postern was. He had
discovered its whereabouts in the days he had been scouting
Acquitaine before he became Aurora’s bodyguard… in case he needed
to use it for an escape route. It was valuable knowledge for his
mission. Had the guards already searched here?
He moved along the side of the wall, keeping
close to the stones to shield himself from the rain, but also to
keep his eyes clear of the falling rain so he could see any clue,
no matter how small. He pulled the cloak up, moving the hood
farther over his head. It was almost too dark to see. A torch would
attract unwanted attention, but it would also be extinguished in
this tedious rain.
Damien lifted his hand against the wall,
sliding it carefully and slowly along the coarse stone surface. He
knew the door was on the eastern side of the castle, facing the
forest, an easy escape route not discernable to the naked eye. He
moved slowly, closing his eyes to let his senses guide him. As soon
as he did, he knew it was a mistake. Images of Aurora filled every
corner of his mind. Her smile. Her blue eyes. Even the sound of her
voice in the melodic way she said his name filled his head. Every
sense craved her, hungry for her presence. Damien clenched his
teeth, opening his eyes instantly. It would do no good to let the
thoughts of her overwhelm him like that now.
He had to concentrate. He swept the wall with
his hand, searching for the exit. It took three sweeps, but finally
he found it. He ran his hand along the sides of the stone door.
Nothing. Then he searched the bottom. His fingers passed over
something wet and thick. He almost mistook it for a leaf or a piece
of plant. His instincts told him to move back and examine it. He
returned to it with his hands, moving his fingers over it. It was
too thick to be a leaf. Too wet to be any plant.
Damien pried it loose from beneath the door.
It was some kind of fabric. But what? It was too dark. He could not
see the color. He stood and ran his thumb over the fabric. A chill
shot down his back that had nothing to do with the rain. The fabric
was soft. He felt the smoothness even though it was wet and ripped.
Soft. Like Aurora’s skin.
He closed his eyes again, this time forcing
himself to remember what she wore the night she went missing. The
night he kissed her. The night he felt her flesh. At first, he
could only remember her warmth in his hand. The memory of her kiss,
sweet and hesitant, tingled his lips. He grit his teeth. What had
she been wearing? And then he remembered.
Her eyes. Her dress was blue, like her eyes.
He remembered touching it. Velvet.
Just like the material in his hand.
Damien whirled to stare at the forest. They
came this way. Whoever took Aurora had brought her into the
forest.
Damien brought Imp as far as he could into
the forest before the brush became too thick to maneuver the horse.
He tied Imp to a tree, left him some food, and headed deeper into
the forest. It was difficult to find any trail. Lord Gabriel’s men
had trampled much of the brush, ruining any chance of finding
Aurora’s path. Damien lifted his stare to the sky. Rain still
pelted him. The accursed rain would not let up. It was as if the
very sky mourned her loss.
Damien grit his teeth and continued on,
slowly searching the ground. He shook his head. It was so dark. No
moon. No stars. He knew he would have to wait until morning to
continue. The thought of leaving Aurora alone for another moment
left him numb. Still, he could not see well. He might be passing
important clues. Reluctantly, Damien turned and moved back to join
Imp for the night.
He sat with Imp beneath a tree until the very
beginning of morning turned the black sky into a gray, dreary one.
The rain refused to cease. He rose and found the trail he left off
at. He searched meticulously, scanning the ground and the bush for
any sign, broken branches, more pieces of her dress, anything that
might tell him where she was. And that she was safe.
He did not want to find blood. Or hair. That
might mean she had been hurt. He quickly pushed the thought from
his mind. But not quickly enough as an ache rose inside him so
intense it left him paralyzed for a moment. This would not help
Aurora. He clenched his jaw and examined the wet ground. Nothing.
Nothing. With a sigh, he lifted his head. Was he heading in the
right direction? He turned and saw the castle wall in the distance.
He knew the postern was right there. Had they come directly across
or had her captor taken her through a different route?
His instincts told him to go back. He always
listened to his instincts. They never failed him. He returned to
the outside edge of the forest, to the wooded boundary just before
the castle, and began a slow sweep. He was moving away from the
village, in the direction of the lake that bordered Castle
Acquitaine, when he spotted something. It was small and buried
beneath a wet, soggy leaf, just slightly the wrong shade of color
to be from a tree. He bent and moved the leaf aside. Beneath it was
a small piece of the same blue fabric he found at the doorway of
the postern. He lifted his eyes to glare into the forest.
His cloak was soaked. Damien moved through
the brush slowly, carefully lifting his feet and placing them back
onto the wet leaves. He had grabbed some flasks to carry with him,
then left Imp at the edge of the forest, knowing he could maneuver
quicker by himself. The frantic feeling inside him grew. If he
didn’t find her soon, she would die. He knew that with a chilling
certainty.
He pushed the thought aside, his eyes
searching the ground, moving over countless leaves, thousands of
bushes and twigs. He looked up and glanced back at the castle. He
could but glimpse a portion of it through the swaying branches of
the trees. She had come this way. Her captor brought her out of the
castle and through this forest, away from the village, toward the
lake. Had he hurt her? Had he killed her?
There was no sign of blood. Only two ripped
pieces of her dress.
Damien looked back through the forest. He
wiped rain from his eyes and was about to move on when something
fell heavily to the ground. He looked to his left and saw a dark
piece of velvet. He bent to it and picked it up in his hand. It was
so small it would have been easy to miss. Especially in this rain.
It was no bigger than the size of a leaf. But three pieces? It was
strange. Almost as if… it were a trail. The hairs on the back of
his neck prickled and stood on end.