DeliveredIntoHisHands (8 page)

“Who gets the kingdom when he passes on?”
she asked.

He shrugged. “I’ve no idea what the line of
succession looks like. It certainly wouldn’t be me. Leastwise I pray it won’t.
I’ve no desire to run a kingdom. Protecting one is hard enough.”

“You will be running Castle Blackthorn when
my father dies,” she reminded him.

“There’s a big difference between a castle
and a world, wench,” he said.

“True,” she agreed.

“Then there are the other advantages,” he
said, seeming to want to end any discussion of rule.

“Which are?”

“The heightening of the senses. Sight,
hearing, taste, smell, touch. They will all become much stronger. If you think
the orgasms I just gave you were intense, after the Changing the sensations are
heightened ever more.”

“I doubt I would survive if it were any
more intense,” she said with a frown.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment
and when she didn’t, he crooked his index finger under her chin to tilt up her
face.

“You are thinking of the Sustenance,” he
said quietly.

Once again Antonia felt tears threatening.
“I’m not sure I can…”

“I am not going to force you, Tonia,” he
said. “If you do not wish the Changing, I will abide by your choice. There may
come a day when you alter your view of it and if that happens, we can visit the
discussion again. As much as I want you by my side for eternity, if it disturbs
you that much, I understand. If it is your desire to grow old and leave this
world when it is your time, I will simply follow you into the arms of the
Gatherer.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I would not want to remain in this
world without you.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I will
not countenance that, Garrick.”

“It is not your decision to make.”

“I will have your word,” she said. “Or I
will leave this bed and you this very night.”

He tightened his arms around her. “That
won’t happen, wench.”

“Then vow to me that when I die you will
not follow me in death.”

He shook his head. “I cannot—will not—do
that.”

“I am not asking, Garrick. I am demanding,”
she said, leveling her gaze with his.

“Don’t ask this of me, Antonia.”

“I am not asking. I am demanding,” she
repeated.

“Do you know what you are doing to me?” he
queried.

“I will not be the cause of ending your
life,” she said. “It is as simple as that.”

“Though I would mourn you for all time?”

“I intend to give you children, Garrick. I
would have you here to care for them, to see our children’s children and their
children after them.”

He stared at her for a long time then
finally dipped his head. “If that is your wish then so be it but know this. Without
you at my side I would live in misery for the rest of eternity.”

She felt a tugging at her heart but she
brutally tamped it down. “You swear you will not follow me?”

He drew in a long breath then exhaled
slowly, raggedly. “I swear though every fiber of my being is screaming in
protest.”

“It came just at sundown,” Marc told him.
“Via central command.”

Garrick took the sealed diplomatic pouch
and sighed heavily. “If this is what I suspect it is, all hell is about to
break loose.”

“Most likely,” Marc agreed.

Holding the brown leather pouch as though
it might bite him, Garrick threw his head back and looked up at the ornate
ceiling of the library. “Why is it when things are going as good as they can
get, something always happens to fuck it up?”

“It’s because you’re not living right,”
Marc said. “If you hadn’t thrown away your freedom—”

“Shut up,” Garrick told him.

“Just saying.” Marc nudged him with his
foot. “The pouch ain’t gonna open itself, brother.”

It had been only four days since his
Joining and Garrick still considered himself on his honeymoon although he and
Antonia had yet to take an official one. The rattling of sabers and talk of
rebel forces prowling the countryside looking for recruits had made it
impossible for him to take his bride beyond the grounds of Castle Blackthorn
for fear of harm coming to her. He would take no chances with her life.

But that had not stopped him from venturing
out with Marc and Oran to meet with the Modarthan spies who were trying to get
a list of the Volakisians who were pushing for war between their two worlds.
His main objective was to learn the identity of the man who had been chosen to
lead the rebel forces. So far, he had been unable to gather any information concerning
that man.

“Once war is declared, there will be no
stopping the king,” Garrick said. “He will crush this world and grind the
conquered beneath his boot heel.”

“Aye, I suspect he will. They believe they
have it bad now? They’ll be in for a very rude awakening,” Marc replied. “The
raids the rebels have made against government offices and treasuries hasn’t set
well with him or his council.”

“I can understand the Volakisians wanting
to be free of our rule,” Garrick said. “Every world should govern itself and
not be forced to live under a government hundreds of light years away, overseen
by thieving magistrates who are bleeding their world dry.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Marc hissed. “That’s
sedition you’re speaking, Rick! The wrong ears hearing that and reporting it
could get you executed or at the very least in-coffined for life!”

“There’s no one listening, Zoltán,” Garrick
told him.

“You don’t know that for sure!” Marc
snapped. “By the goddess, please be careful what you say.”

“I am and I haven’t expressed that opinion
to anyone save you,” Garrick mumbled.

“Especially not your lady-wife, I hope,”
Marc said.

“She’s not interested in politics and never
mentions the war looming on the horizon. I’m sure she has friends among the
rebels.”

“Like that prissy Clay bastard,” Marc
suggested. “I’ll wager he’s sure as hell one.”

“I’ve yet to meet him,” Garrick said. He
unsheathed the dagger strapped to his thigh and put the tip of the blade under
the pouch’s sealed flap.

“Consider yourself lucky. He vanished
before the Joining. Before that, he was always skulking about trying to get the
lady alone.”

Garrick stopped what he was doing and
looked over at his friend. “What does that mean?” he demanded.

“From what I learned from her lady’s-maid,
the sneaky prick has deep feelings for your woman and has for years,” Marc
answered. “Her mother kept telling him he wasn’t her Chosen but apparently the
dickwad has a thick head and refused to believe it. By all accounts he was very
annoyed when you showed up at Blackthorn and swept the lady out from under his
nose.”

“Was he now?” Garrick asked. “He’s the one
I suspect issued the orders for me to be staked.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me to be
watching his swishy ass?” Marc queried.

“I had other things on my mind.”

“The least of which appears to be your
fucking life!” Marc ground out in a disbelieving tone. “Why did you suspect
him?”

“I saw him as they were carrying me
upstairs that night. There was something about the way he looked at me, the
disappointment and anger on his face that caught my attention. I asked the
Sargent-at-Arms who he was and was told he was a trusted friend of the family.”

“If he is and he tried to kill you, that
means he’s with the rebels,” Marc stated. “And if that’s the case that means
the baron is too.”

“I’m sure every aristocrat on Volakis is,”
Garrick said. “Were the tables reversed, wouldn’t you be?”

“Probably,” Marc grumbled. “But how safe
can it be for you to be living in what you know is most likely a rebel
stronghold?”

“Better to be where you can keep an eye on
your enemy than to have him come at your back when you don’t know who he is,”
Garrick replied.

“Has it occurred to you that’s a good way
for the rebels to keep an eye on you?” Marc inquired.

“It is what it is, Marc,” Garrick answered.

Marc ran his hand through his hair. “I
don’t like this, Rick. Not one fucking bit. If Clay is a so-called trusted
friend and he tried to murder you, what does that say about the baron?”

“I have no reason to believe the
Blackthorns wish me ill,” Garrick said. “From the moment Lady Maripose nudged
me toward staying here with Antonia I knew she was attempting to straddle the
fence. No matter what happens in this conflict, she intends to be on the
winning side. She was hedging her bets by suggesting I allow Tonia to remain
here.”

“I intend to bring in our own people to
keep an eye on things here,” Marc told him.

“If the declaration of war is in this
pouch, I will commandeer the castle and use it as our base of operations. We’ll
move my staff in, cordon off the estate with troops and position guards at the
doors like any other headquarters. I seriously doubt my life will be in danger
here but if posting a bodyguard or two around me and my wife will make you feel
better—”

“It will,” Marc snapped.

“Then that’s what you should do, Capt.
Zoltán.”

“Oh, trust me, it will be done, General!
Somebody has to look after your crazy ass!”

* * * * *

“Well, we knew it was coming,” the baron
said with a loud sigh. “The castle is at your command, milord General.”

“I will see to it my men respect your
privacy and maintain the autonomy of your estate but I must tell you, Your
Grace. If we catch any rebels trying to spy on us or cause mischief, they will
be dealt with harshly.”

“I am sure you know I side with my fellow
Volakisians in this conflict,” the baron said.

“I do and I’m sure you know you are suspect
with the king,” Garrick replied.

“Your king has nothing to fear from my
household, General. We would be foolish to allow anything to happen to you or
your men while you are at Blackthorn. I have no intention of having my lands be
confiscated or devastated by this war. They are your lady-wife’s legacy to the
children you and she shall have one day.”

“I understand your predicament, Your Grace,
but as long as you maintain a semblance of neutrality and keep your people from
hindering us, there should be no problem.”

“Consider it so,” the baron said. He nodded
then continued on to his bedchamber as though he’d not been informed that his
ancestral home had been seized by the Modarthan army.

“That went well,” Garrick commented.

“His fists were opening and closing the
entire time,” Marc commented. “The man was furious but resigned.”

“What choice does he have but to be
resigned to us taking over the castle?” Garrick queried.

“As soon as the garrison arrives, I’ll put
men on him and the baroness,” Marc informed him. He hooked a finger down his
nose. “And your lady-wife.”

Garrick turned to stare at his lifelong
friend. “You’re joking.”

“Let’s me and you get something straight
here, Rick,” Marc said. “I take the guarding of your life seriously despite the
fact that you are a reckless asswipe at the best of times. You told me I could
put bodyguards on you and her and I will do that but I will also have spies
watching her every move.”

“My wife would never harm me, Zoltán,”
Garrick snapped.

“No, but she could pass on information to
the rebels. You must consider that. Be very careful what you say around her.”

“She won’t betray me.”

Marc heaved a long sigh. “Rick, you are
living with rebel sympathizers. You know they want to win this war and will do
what they can to undermine our efforts. That may or may not entail harm coming
to you. At the very least be on your guard and mind your tongue. Pillow talk
can be dangerous.”

“I am not a green recruit. Don’t tell me
how to do my job,” Garrick warned.

“I will keep you safe even if it means
insulting your ass,” Marc replied. “Live with it.”

* * * * *

“He means well,” Antonia told him at the
supper table.

“Tell me about Capt. Alyxdair Clay,” he
said. He was tired of complaining to her of Zoltán’s high-handedness.

“What of him?” she asked.

“He thought to be your husband,” he stated
without looking at her. He was slicing into his ham steak as though it had
offended him in some way.

“A boyhood infatuation,” she said. “Nothing
more.”

Still not looking at her, he shoveled a
chunk of meat into his mouth, rudely speaking around it. “Did you encourage
him?”

Antonia’s eyebrows shot up. “Encourage
him?” she repeated.

Garrick raised his head and locked his eyes
on her. “Aye, wench. Did you encourage him?”

For a moment she stared at him then picked
up her napkin to blot her lips. “No.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Did any of your
actions give him hope that he might be your Chosen?”

“My actions,” she said, eyes narrowing as
her eyebrows came down. “And what actions might those have been, milord?”

He lifted his fork and stabbed it in her
direction. “Did you flirt with him? Did you lay your hand on his arm when you
were speaking to him? Did you flutter your lashes at him? Did you…” A muscle
flared in his jaw. “Did you kiss him?”

Returning her napkin to her lap, she
smoothed it as she kept her gaze on his. “Just as you have known Marcus since
childhood, I have known Alyx since I was three years old. He is a dear friend.”

“A dear friend,” he echoed.

“Aye, he is.”

“How dear?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Why,
Garrick. Are you jealous of Alyx?”

Again the muscle jumped in his cheek.
“Don’t be absurd.”

“Then why these questions?” she queried.

“Why haven’t you answered them?” he
countered.

Antonia pursed her lips, took a deep breath
then reached for her coffee cup. She took a sip—all the time looking at him
over the rim.

“Answer me, wench,” he snapped. “Did you…?”

“Aye, I flirted with him,” she said and his
eyes darkened. “He was my father’s squire and he was available to…”

“Available to what?” he demanded, slamming
his fork down on the table.

“To practice on. Every young girl in the
castle flirted with him. How do you think any of us learn how to wrap men
around our little fingers unless we have boys upon whom to practice? He was one
of those boys.” She smiled tightly. “One among many I might add. Do you want to
know about them as well?”

He ignored the question. “I want to know
about Alyxdair Clay.”

“Did I touch him?” She flung out a hand.
“Of course not. I couldn’t touch any male. You know that. We played together as
children and we were—and are—very affectionate toward one another.”

“How fucking affectionate?”

Antonia placed her coffee cup on the table
and leaned back in her chair. “You are jealous!”

“I am no such thing,” he grumbled. “Did you
ever kiss him?”

“Where do you think I learned to kiss? Of
course I kissed him. Many times,” she lied then rolled her eyes. “Without ever
touching him of course. Just our lips met.”

He snorted. “Well if it was him who taught
you then I can see why you didn’t know to open your lips to me the first time I
kissed you,” he said.

“Mayhap he was gentleman enough not to poke
his tongue down my throat!” she said.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “Do you
know why a man does that, wench?”

“No, knave, I have no idea.”

“It mimics the act of fucking,” he told
her. “It’s a good thing for him he never did that to you.”

“Why?” she asked. She was furious with him
now and it showed in the way she was glaring at him and the tightness of her
face.

He leaned across the table. “I’d have one
more reason to put his ass in my dungeon!”

Antonia’s mouth dropped open. “What are you
talking about?” she asked. “What has Alyx done to warrant being jailed?”

“I can’t prove it but I know he was the one
who ordered me staked,” he said with a growl.

“You can’t be serious!” she said.

“I am deadly serious and when my men find
him, he will be questioned thoroughly about his involvement.”

She put a hand to her chest. “You mean
tortured,” she said.

“Questioned vigorously at length,” he
corrected.

“Tortured into saying what you want him to
say.” Her chin came up. “Because you are jealous.”

“I am not fucking jealous!” he shouted,
banging his fist on the table. The silverware jumped and the plates rattled
under the attack.

“Then you’re a fool,” she said, pushing her
chair back from the table.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
he demanded.

“Anywhere you aren’t!” she replied, turning
to go.

“Sit your ass down, woman!” he yelled.

“No,” she said. She headed for the door.

“Come back here. Now!” he ordered.

“Go to hell,” she replied.

Garrick shot to his feet, threw his napkin
on the table and stomped after her. She turned her head, saw him coming, and
picked up her skirts to run.