Beauty's Curse (47 page)

“This is where we exit the stage, my lord.”

He was laughing, and that unholy glint in his eye made her wish they were alone. “I agree; it would be a good time to leave”—he inched them closer to their mounts—“before Prince John remembers to go through our bags.”

Two days later, Will raced back from where he'd been scouting ahead for a village to stay the night. “There's travelers coming, bearing a green and white banner. Do we fight?”

Galiana perked up from her doze. She and Rourke were taking full advantage of their private sleeping quarters, and sleep was the last thing on her mind in the cozy evenings, when the two of them were learning everything they could about one another.

Her body ached deliciously, she thought with a slight stretch.

“Green and white? Those are the Montehue colors, Rourke.”

Rourke groaned. “Your family would storm Windsor?”

“Of course they would come to save me.”

“You don't need to be saved.”

“That's true, but they don't know that.”

“How would they know to find you here?”

Did he sound guilty? For taking her away? Galiana sniffed daintily and looked up at the sky. “Well, uh, Mam sometimes has these … well, they're intuitions … and she's occasionally right, so …” She exhaled.

“I thought you said you and your mother didn't get any magic.”

“I didn't lie, my lord, so stop looking at me like that. 'Tis just a bit of a hunch, and not always accurate. One time she made my father drain the pond for treasure, but there was nothing.”

“Treasure.” He scoffed.

Galiana took the glove from her hand and waved her ring. “You can't tell me you don't believe in treasure.”

“You are the only treasure I need.” He leaned over and kissed her on the mouth.

She smiled. “You'll like my family.”

He looked uncertain. “Your father is a big man, you said?”

“Aye. Viking ancestors.”

Rourke pinched the bridge of his nose as Jamie and Will looked to him for direction. “Just… wait,” he said.

Father Jonah wore a large grin as her brothers galloped toward them, twin blond hellions on matching chestnut steeds.

Galiana reached over to grab each one into a hug, the horses jostling for space. “Brats!” she said over her laughter.

“We're here to rescue ye,” Ed announced, glaring at Rourke. Her husband kept his expression distant.

“Aye, come on, Gali, and see Mam, afore our father tears the lord's head from his shoulders.”

“Ned.” Galiana lightly punched her brother on the arm. “Lord Rourke is my husband.”

“We were too late,” Ed cried, racing back to her parents.

“I love him!” Galiana yelled at the top of her lungs so her father wouldn't pierce Rourke through.

Her father lowered his drawn sword, and her mother started clapping.

“You do?” Dierdre cried, cantering to her daughter with an arm outstretched for a hug. “You love him, my beautiful darling?”

“Aye, Mam.” Galiana kissed her mother's cheek, then reached out her hand for her husband's. He smiled, that slow uplifting of lips that made fools of women everywhere. “This is Rourke Wallis.”

“Oh, my,” her mother simpered.

Rourke pulled a rolled letter from his tunic and handed it to her mother.

“Rourke?” Galiana raised her voice. “Why do you have my letter to my family? Did you read it?”

“Before you lose your temper, Gali, I never broke the seal. I thought you were possibly sending a note to King Richard … but I couldn't betray your privacy.”

“Galiana, don't yell,” her mother reprimanded as she read.

“You thought I was a spy?” Galiana hefted her chin, letting the anger fade as she remembered his job for the royals. It had been his duty to ensure she could be trusted. “You didn't break the seal? Really, my lord?”

“I was beginning to love you, even then,” he said.

“Oh!” Her mother waved the missive. “She loved you, too. See here? It was fate. Welcome to the family, Rourke Wallis.” Lady Deirdre turned to the twins. “You didn't tell me your sister's rapist was so good-looking, nor titled …”

The boys snorted, and her father bellowed, “Deirdre! Stand back. Let me meet this man who thinks to steal my daughter away from the bosom of her family.”

Galiana pushed her horse forward, but Rourke wouldn't let her take the sting of her father's wrath.

“Lord Montehue,” Rourke said smoothly. “I'm Lord Rourke Wallis, and these are my men, Jamie Fitzhugh and Will Montgomery. 'Tis true, your daughter was a prize. But in the weeks since we've met, I've come to realize the true treasure is in her love.”

Galiana and her mother both sighed with pleasure.

“God's bones, I've ridden these past days with bloodshed on me mind, and, and, what in the hell are ye doin'?”

Rourke handed over his sword, hilt first, to her father, and Galiana knew there would be peace.

“Damn it, man.” Her father accepted the sword, then searched his daughter's face. “Ye're sure?”

“Aye, Daddy, I love him.”

Her father handed the sword back. “Welcome to the family, son. Come on—we're but a day's ride from Falcon Keep. Ye might as well meet the rest of our growing clan.”

Rourke nodded sagely, Jamie and Will on his heels. Her brothers galloped circles around Father Jonah, and her mother chattered about Celestia and the baby, a boy named James, and Nicholas, and Ela, who adored the baby and wouldn't let the infant out of her sight, and …

Galiana listened to her mother's voice as she watched her normally smooth husband try and figure out his place in their family. The smile teasing the corners of his mouth made her happy, because he was happy. The ring warmed against her finger.

The year began with a new beginning and a prayer for an adventure, and now she was the queen-appointed guardian of the mystical Breath of Merlin. Her beauty hadn't gained her happiness; her hair and her eyes hadn't won her Rourke's love. Her warrior's spirit had captured her knight, and she vowed to forever be the guardian of his heart.

April 1194

Rourke rode next to his liege as they left Winchester. “How do you think it went?”

King William, a born horseman, adjusted his seat. “Almost three weeks with Richard. 'Twas good he was crowned again. Britain needs him to be king.”

Rourke agreed. “Naming Arthur as heir helped, too. The lines are clear. Do you think Richard will stay and rule?”

“The man is restless, a Plantagenet.” King William spat into the dirt, as if that explained everything. “Who knows?”

Rourke sighed. The ways of the royals were not his ways, though he understood the lure of power. He'd not missed his spying days; being able to act as his liege's guard occasionally let him keep his hand in …

In the event that balance of power should shift again, and Britain should need a king.

“How's your lady?”

“Excellent. I miss her, and the twins.”

“Girls.” His liege shook his head.

“I like my girls,” Rourke defended.

“Aye, I suppose,” King William's eyes shimmered with mirth. “Ye're too easy, son. Do you mind if I ride home with you? I'd like to see the babes.”

“You have your own daughter,” Rourke said, secretly happy his father cared.

“She's attached to her mother; that's the pity. I'll be able to forge an alliance with Germany, or France, mayhap next year.”

Rourke nodded, glad his daughters didn't need to be pawns. Red-haired beauties with magic in their tiny fingertips, they had a royal dispensation, too. They'd be raised to guard the Breath of Merlin and the future of Britain.

He sort of felt sorry for the men who thought to conquer them.

“Race you?” He didn't wait for his father to answer, but dug his heels into his horse's flanks. For the first time in his life, Rourke was a whole man. Above all royal ties, he valued the woman who, with beauty and honor, shared his life.

Galiana, I'm coming home.

Traci E. Hall began her love affair with words long before being able to spell. Rhyming led to creative thinking because no matter how hard you try, there is no word that rhymes with orange. Combining imagination with her flair for vocabulary eventually segued into bad poetry, and finally, story telling. Creating ghosts and things that go bump in the night, adding a happy ending and true love, all make Traci thrilled that floral design didn't really work out.

Traci is the current president of Florida Romance Writers, a chapter of Romance Writers of America, and a member of Spacecoast Authors of Romance. She has been interviewed in both radio and newspaper medias. Traci credits volunteering and networking for helping her reach her goals, and her blog Babes for making the journey so fun.

Traci is fascinated with history. She's been known to spend more time than allotted on research because she gets caught up in old diaries or papers that are as compelling as People magazine.

Married for almost twenty years, Traci believes in the power of love and happily-ever-afters. She has two teenagers, who have hungry friends, and she's learned to whip up cheese quesadillas for twenty in ten minutes or less. In her down time, Traci likes to read, or go walking on the beach, or maybe play triple yahtzee with her hubby while listening to Bowling For Soup. She is addicted to cheesy B horror films, and her collection includes: Shawn Of The Dead, Dead And Breakfast, and of course, The Lost Boys.

www.traciehall.com