Entreat Me (32 page)

“Oh, well in that case, anyone can forgive a little dust.”

He captured one of her hands and lifted it to his mouth to kiss.  “No longer the lymer,” he murmured against her knuckles.”

Her shoulders sagged.  “No, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or sad I’m not tasked with guard duty anymore.”  Her brow knitted into a faint frown.  “We did have the inevitable discussion about what to expect the first time in the marriage bed.”

Ballard could only imagine how that went.  Cinnia wide-eyed and stunned while Louvaen described the act in her blunt fashion.  “And?”

“Mortifying,” she said.  “I wish our mother Abigail was still alive.  Cinnia wouldn’t have dared ask the questions of her she asked me.  You’d think I was the keeper of a knocking shop with all the details she wanted.”

Ballard’s bark of laughter earned him a singeing glare from a blushing Louvaen and stares from the others.  His new daughter-in-law had surprised him a second time today.  He’d once thought Cinnia a timid creature engulfed by her powerful sister’s long shadow.  He suspected she’d prove him wrong many times over the next few days.  “She’s a lot more like you than I ever guessed.”

“More fool her then.”  Louvaen’s expression turned melancholy as she gazed at her sister in Gavin’s arms.  “Cinnia would have married Gavin barefoot and in a rainstorm, but this isn’t how I imagined her wedding.  I gave her the mirror so she could at least see Papa today.  It’s a small comfort but better than nothing.”  She still held his hand and squeezed his fingers.  “You and Ambrose concocted a lovely idea for a gift for us.”  She winked.  “Even if it reeks of magic.”

Ballard tugged on her hand until she stood within the circle of his embrace.  She stared at him, unflinching.  “If I didn’t know that marrying you would split your loyalties and bind you to this castle, I’d make you my wife, Louvaen.”  He tightened his arms against her back.  “Ambrose has already offered to wed us.  I said no.”  He stood still beneath her scrutiny, awaiting her judgment.

Ages of time passed before she flicked the edge of his hood with her fingers.  “What need have I of some puffed up magician to declare us bound?”  She grinned.  “You are mine, Green Man.  And I am yours.”

She squeaked a protest when he lifted her off her feet and crushed her to him.  He wanted to kiss her senseless—absorb the essence that made her burn so fiercely, carry her with him until the curse took him completely, and his last human spark guttered and died.

But this day didn’t belong to them, and Ambrose’s less than subtle throat-clearing signaled he and Louvaen had ignored everyone long enough.

Dinner was a high-spirited affair, with much toasting to the newly married pair and a great deal of joking and sly innuendo that even had Gavin blushing at times.  Louvaen sat at Ballard’s right, within easy reach of his hand which wandered from her knee to her thigh and back again.  This wasn’t his wedding day, but he hoped to make it his wedding night.  She’d stay with him another week before returning home to her father with Cinnia and nearly all his household in tow.  He didn’t intend to waste precious time.

Cinnia rose, kissed Gavin and excused herself from the celebration.  “I’ll be right back,” she said.  “I’m off to get the mirror.  Papa might not be here in person, but he can be in spirit.”

Gavin stood up as well.  “I’ll go with you,” he said eagerly.

Louvaen leaned into Ballard.  “They’ll never make it back down the stairs.”

Ballard motioned for Gavin to sit down and refilled his goblet.  “Cool the fire, boy.  She’ll return soon.”

Gavin plopped down in his seat but never took his eyes off the stairwell.  The rest of the group returned to eating and chatting without him.

Everyone shot up from the table at Cinnia’s horrified shriek.  Gavin pulled his sword from its scabbard and bolted for the stairs, Ballard behind him with only his eating dagger in hand.  Cinnia met them halfway down the steps, almost cannoning into Gavin in her haste.

“Lou!  Look at this!”  She clutched the enchanted mirror in one hand, waving it wildly at Louvaen.

She struggled out of Gavin’s arms and shoved both men against the wall in her bid to reach her sister.  The sweet lovely bride had been replaced with a wild-eyed harridan, and Ballard shrugged in confusion when Louvaen cast him a questioning look before stopping her sister’s headlong flight.  She jerked her head back just in time to keep Cinnia from smashing the mirror into her face.

“Father’s in the gaol!”

Louvaen snatched the mirror out of Cinnia’s hand and stared at it with a such a ferocious scowl, Ballard thought she might crack the glass.

“I’m going to kill Jimenin,” she said.

Cinnia paced in front of her, wringing her hands.  “You paid the debt!”

“I know I paid the debt!”  Louvaen gripped the mirror, wishing she could bludgeon her nemesis with it.  “I’m sure he’s dredged or made up some new marker Papa supposedly owes him.”  She stomped her foot.  “Argh!  I should have shot him when I had the chance.”

Ballard clenched the eating knife as a low growl rumbled in his throat.  Jimenin.  Louvaen’s adversary and the source of the Hallis family’s many troubles.  He was also the catalyst that had brought Louvaen to him, but it didn’t stop Ballard from wanting to ride for Monteblanco and rip the man’s head off his shoulders.

War-trained and more than capable of protecting and defending his own, he was stripped of the ability to help her—made impotent by the curse and the chains that bound him to Ketach Tor.  Even Gavin, yellow-eyed and balanced on the edge of another flux, couldn’t go in his stead.  Louvaen would have to face Jimenin alone a second time.

He met her bleak gaze over Cinnia’s head.  “You can’t wait a week.”

“No.  I’ll gather my things now.”

“I’m going with you,” Cinnia said.

Louvaen’s angry expression softened.  “I don’t think so.”

“But Lou...”

“Cinnia, you’re a new wife on borrowed time with your husband.  I’ll deal with this.”

Ballard admired her tactics.  Nothing delicate about them, but she’d effectively silenced any arguments or insistence from both parties.  He caught Gavin’s attention.  “Loan her Sparrow to ride.  Jimenin will expect her to show up riding the slower Plowfoot.  Coming in on an unfamiliar horse will buy her time.”

“I’ll get him saddled.”  Gavin kissed Cinnia and left for the stables.

“I can put you much closer to your Monteblanco than before,” Ambrose said.  “Shorten your trip to a day and a half instead of six, but you’ll have to embrace a little magic, mistress.”

Louvaen glanced once more at the mirror and then at him.  “I’ll kiss the stuff if it gets me there faster, sorcerer.”  She looked to Ballard next, and his heart clinched at the sorrow in her eyes.  “Come upstairs with me.”

He nodded.  “Give me a moment with Ambrose.  I’ll be there.”  He watched her stride for the stairs, Cinnia on her heels.

He turned to Ambrose once they were out of earshot.  “I’d wager a good courser Jimenin somehow found out Louvaen was returning in the spring and thinks Cinnia will return with her.  The girl would buckle the moment she saw her father imprisoned and do whatever Jimenin wanted.  He’ll be looking for them.  How close can you put her to her home?”

Ambrose spread his hands in a helpless gesture.  “No closer than what I mentioned.  But she’ll be on an unfamiliar horse, and if she conceals herself she’ll get into Monteblanco before he spots her.”

Ballard ran a hand over his face.  “Gods, this is the worst of the curse.  I can’t even protect her by accompanying her.  Neither can Gavin, and she won’t leave her father to rot in the gaol while she stays at Ketach Tor.”

“She’ll know what to do.  She’s resourceful and no wilting flower by any stretch, and she’s dealt with Jimenin before.”  Ambrose worried his lower lip, a sure sign he was planning and strategizing.  “You can keep watch with the mirror I gave her and Cinnia.”

“That’s as bad as not knowing anything if I can do nothing to help.  Besides, she’ll want the mirror to keep an eye on Cinnia.”

“You as well,” Ambrose pointed out.  “Is that what you want?”

The idea she might summon his image in the mirror as he transformed for a final time made the cold knot of dread in Ballard’s gut swell until it threatened to choke him.  “No,” he said.

Ambrose snapped his fingers.  “An easy solution.  Mirrors aren’t hard to enchant; they’re just hard to control sometimes.  I can enchant another one so that Louvaen can only summon Cinnia.  It can act as a beacon as well, in case she needs to return to Ketach Tor.”

Ballard scowled.  “She better not come back.  I expect the others to be long gone by the time her business with her father is finished.”

“She may have to,
dominus
.  If something happens to me, and I can’t get the women out, then Louvaen needs the means to return and do it for me.”

Ballard growled his frustration.  “She’s right.  She should have shot Jimenin.”  He took the stairs two at a time, tossing instructions over his shoulder to Ambrose as he went.  “When Gavin returns, tell him to gather up the coin he thinks she’ll need to free her father.  I’d bet long we’ll be paying a king’s ransom for his release.”

He found Louvaen in her chamber.  She waved him in as she and Cinnia tossed clothing and personal toiletries haphazardly into a satchel, at least until Louvaen lifted the wrapped dagger he’d given her.  She placed the gift within her jumble of possessions with careful hands, burying it deep amongst crushed skirts and shifts.

Sometime during his conversation with Ambrose, she’d exchanged her fancier dress with its many laces for a plainer, more practical garment.  The ornamental combs in her hair were gone, and she’d bound the dark locks into a heavy plait that fell down her back.  His fantasy of unlacing her and keeping her locked in his chamber with him for a week was so much dust.

“Are you ready?” he said.

She paused in closing the satchel.  “Yes.”  Her slender hands trembled on the ties.

Cinnia gazed at her and Ballard.  Her lower lip quivered.  She patted Louvaen’s shoulder.  “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready,” she said and fled the room.

Louvaen’s lashes were damp with unshed tears.  “You save my family again.”

He shook his head and came to stand before her.  His hands rested heavy on her slender shoulders.  “Your father became Gavin’s father as well when Cinnia married him.  He has a duty to Mercer Hallis.  In this, you are simply the messenger for Lord de Lovet.”

She offered him a weak smile.  “You made him give up his horse.  I’ll take good care of Sparrow until I can return him.”

“He’s Cinnia’s now.  Keep him for her.  Gavin would wish it.”  Ballard gathered her close until her scent of cloves filled his nostrils, and her strong features filled his vision.  He pushed back his hood so she might see him as clearly as he saw her.  “Wife of my soul,” he said softly.

She closed her eyes and sagged in his arms.  “Oh gods, Ballard.  I don’t want to go.”  She straightened abruptly, almost bumping his nose.  Her hands slid into his hair and tugged him down until her mouth touched his and they were kissing wildly—a battle of clutching hands and desperate moans until they gasped for air.

Ballard set her from him.  “Get your cloak, and then it’s downstairs with you, witch, or I’ll change my mind and lock you in Ketach Tor with me forever, your father be damned.”  He shouldered her satchel and ushered her out the door before she could protest and before he gave in to temptation.

They met the others in the bailey, with Gavin holding the reins of a saddled Sparrow.  Someone had lowered the drawbridge, and its chains clinked in the wind gusting up from the abyss.  Nearby, the roses rustled, and Ballard caught the sibilant laughter within their restless motion.

Cinnia hugged her sister and passed her a mirror similar to the one she’d received on Modrnicht.  This one was smaller and plainer, hurriedly enchanted by Ambrose.  “Like my mirror,” she told Louvaen.  “Except you’ll only be able to summon me.”

Louvaen took it and cast a sideways glance first at Ambrose and then at Ballard.  The question was as clear in her gaze as if she’d spoken the words. 
This was your idea, wasn’t it
?  He acknowledged her inquiry with a brief, unapologetic nod.

She returned her attention to Cinnia, hugged her hard and promised to rescue their father as soon as possible.  She embraced Magda and the maids as well.

The housekeeper patted her shoulder.  “We’ll take good care of your girl until you see her again.”

Louvaen and Ambrose faced each other.  Ambrose spoke first.  “There’s plenty of coin hidden under Sparrow’s saddle, enchanted like the mirror to look like part of his blanket.  It should be more than enough to release your father.”  He gestured to the mirror she held.  “Cinnia didn’t tell you, but the mirror is a beacon as well in case you need to return.”

“She won’t need to return,” Ballard said and scowled at his sorcerer.

Ambrose refused to give ground.  “So you say, but I want to be certain.”

Louvaen’s gazed flitted between them before settling on Ambrose.  The corner of her mouth lifted.  “Old spitfrog, don’t bespell me off a cliff.  You’ll kill Gavin’s favorite mount.”

Ambrose harrumphed, and a smile hovered on his lips.  “That bit of horseflesh is the only thing saving you from a bad end, you foul harpy.”