His Conquest (21 page)

Her unease grew as she accompanied them. She slid a sideways glance at his friend, who studied her with undisguised interest. Why wouldn’t he? Few lords traveled with a woman in tow. Much less a lady who he would learn was the sister of their enemy!

Beneath a large oak, Seathan halted, gesturing for her to sit.

On shaky limbs, Linet complied, choosing the trunk of a fallen tree.

He carefully lowered his friend upon the weathered bark several paces away, then stood. “Linet, may I introduce you to my friend, Sir Dauid.”

His friend? “My pleasure.”

“Dauid,” Seathan continued, “Lady Linet.”

He nodded, glanced at her curiously. “My lady.”

“Sister to Lord Tearlach,” Seathan added.

Fury sliced through the half-swollen eyes. Dauid tried to stand, but his left leg buckled beneath him. Clinging to the stump, he glared at Seathan, then his look ebbed to caution. “Why is she here?”

“To use in barter with her brother.”

“To barter!” Linet gasped.

Seathan knelt, clasped her hand within his palm. “That was before—”

“Before?” Dauid asked.

“Before I learned her innocent of her brother’s foul deeds—as are you.”

Dauid remained silent, his face drawn in thought.

“I am no longer to be bartered?” she asked, unsure, confused, needing to hear him say the words. Her heart shuddered with anticipation.

Tenderness softened his face, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Nay, as I said, you are free.”

“And my travel to the Highlands?”

Seathan hesitated. “Upon my return.”

“Return? Where are you going? I do not understand.”

“Aye, on that I agree,” Dauid said. “You have Tearlach’s sister and are not using her against the bastard.”

“Nay,” Seathan replied, his eyes never leaving hers. “I owe her my life. She freed me from the viscount’s dungeon. ’Tis a long story, one I will relate to you later. Suffice it to say, she has shown more courage than any woman I have ever met.”

Dauid swallowed hard. “Forgive me, my lady. I knew not that you had saved Seathan’s life. For that I cannot thank you enough.” His paused, shook his head, grief in his eyes. “God’s teeth, Seathan, I—I thought you were dead.” Long moments passed as he struggled for composure. “Had I known that the viscount imprisoned you—”

“And tortured him,” Linet added, her own anger finding its mark. “You claim to be Seathan’s friend, but because of you, he almost died. What kind of man are you? What kind of man betrays a friend?”

Dauid’s throat worked. “A man who does not deserve the forgiveness Seathan offers.”

“On that I agree.” She narrowed her eyes. “How—”

“Enough,” Seathan stated.

She glared at Dauid, who returned her hard stare without flinching. Little love was lost between them, on that she was fine.

“Your brother is ruthless in who he uses for his gain,” Seathan stated. “Like you, Dauid was but a pawn, his life torn apart on Tearlach’s whim. At first light, two of my men will accompany you back to Lochshire Castle. When I return, I will escort you to the Highlands.”

“And you?” she asked.

“Dauid, my men, and I will ride to Breac Castle.”

Surprised, Linet took in the battered man, noticed old scars atop fresh bruises that Seathan had delivered this day. Why would Seathan allow this man to ride with him while he shuttled her to safety?

“He is unfit to travel,” she said.

Dauid’s eyes hardened. “I will ride.”

His passionate vow shook her. “Why?”

“I must rescue my wife, Brighde.”

“You wife is in Breac Castle?” she whispered.

“Aye. Your brother has made her his whore.”

Sweet Mary! Speechless, she struggled with the knowledge of yet another horrific wrong her brother had committed. “Had I known of his treachery, I would have…” Done what? Sadly, little. She shook her head. “I am sorry.”

Dauid watched her with a critical eye. Moments passed, his expression eased. “As am I, but we will save her.

“Aye,” Seathan echoed. “Even if we have to tear down every bloody stone in the castle.”

A tear slid down Dauid’s cheek, but pride, fierce and deep, shone in his eyes as well.

The strength of their friendship left Linet both humbled and saddened. She wished she and Seathan shared the same bond. Their physical connection was beyond doubt, affirmed by their days of intimacy. But how did he feel about her?

As if she had to wonder? His answer of moments ago made his feelings clear. Once he’d freed Dauid’s wife, he would escort Linet to the Highlands and out of his life.

Hurt robbed her of breath, carved an ache so painful it tore through her soul. The friendship and trust she yearned for were not gifts he offered her.

Nor ever would.

Working past the pain, the hurt of his rejection of her heart, she focused on their goal of freeing Brighde. She might never win Seathan’s love, but she’d not stand by when she could help to right her brother’s wrongs.

Linet shoved to her feet. “I am going with you.”

Seathan’s face darkened. “
Absolutely not!
You will travel to Lochshire Castle, where you will be safe.”

“Safe?” Somber, Linet shook her head. “As long as my brother lives, is any one of us truly safe?”

He strode forward, caught her shoulders. “Linet—”

“My brother is the cause of this. Had Fulke not abducted Brighde, threatened Dauid until he was forced into a horrific decision, you would not have been imprisoned, nor your knights killed.” She angled her chin and struggled beneath his touch. “My brother has harmed so many, and it must end. I may have been ignorant of his actions, but now I know. I refuse to stand by when I can help repair his wrongs.”

Seathan brushed away a tear she’d not realized she’d shed. “You are still recovering.”

She scoffed. “Dauid can hardly walk, yet he rides with you on the morrow.”

“His wife—”

She tried to break free; he held her close. Anger ignited, grew blazing hot. “I have knowledge of the layout of Breac Castle, experience in moving through the maze of secret tunnels.” At his darkening expression, she shook her head. “Do not think to forbid me. My stake in this is as great as either of yours. Besides, if you leave me, I will follow on my own.”

Seathan glared at her, furious she dared defy him, wanting her safe. Damn her, if they were alone, he’d strip her naked and make love to her. Never had a woman made him furious and want her at the same time.

A soft chuckle at his side had him glaring at his friend.

“Had I not witnessed it with my own eyes,” Dauid said, “I would not have believed it possible.”

“What?” Seathan growled.

“’Twould seem,” Dauid said, far from deterred by his friend’s surly attitude, “that you have met your match.”

Seathan eyed Linet, wanting her, feeling more confused and torn than ever in his life. “Blast it, come with us then. It is your life to risk.”

Sadness etched through the determination on her face. “Yes, it is. Mine and no one else’s.” She turned and walked away.

Seathan forced himself to hold still. Not to race after her and demand that she return to the safety of Lochshire Castle. He blew out a rough breath and prayed that letting her accompany him was not the worst mistake of his life.

Night crept around them like a morbid omen. On edge, Linet peered through the thick branches of a fir. Sheer rock jutted from the roll of land scraping toward the sky. Atop the magnificent out-cropping loomed Breac Castle.

A castle where she’d grown up.

A castle that had held her dreams.

A castle that now held naught but danger.

Three days past, Seathan had sent his knights to deliver a writ to his brothers. The men would have reached Lochshire Castle. With a contingent of men riding at their sides, Alexander and Duncan should be en route.

“Linet?”

At the concern in Seathan’s voice, she turned. In the fading light, green eyes studied her, his gaze too intense, seeing more than she wished to reveal.

“It is not too late for you to leave,” he said.

And be safe
, she silently finished. He would say no more. Except for ordering his men to tie her up and haul her back to Lochshire Castle, he’d exhausted every angle to convince her not to accompany them.

With each reason, she’d refused.

“Linet—”

“I am going.” On stopping Fulke, she and Seathan were equally determined. Her brother had hurt too many people. If it took her until her dying breath, she would end his brutality.

The sun sank beneath the horizon, smothering light that would expose them to Fulke’s guards. She prayed they’d find Brighde alive.

“Over there.” Seathan pointed out to his men the rain-washed trail that he and Linet had used to escape.

Time-worn rock angled down the steep grade before them as if nothing had changed. But it had. She could hardly fathom how much she’d transformed since her escape with Seathan barely more than a fortnight past.

And in that wisp of time, somehow love had offered her both enrichment and ruin.

Pushing aside a thick limb, Dauid studied the steep slope littered with loose rock. “It will take the entire night for everyone to reach the top. The rain will make the climb more treacherous.”

“Aye, but the storm provides necessary cover.” Seathan studied his friend, his injuries still a consideration. But he understood Dauid’s determination, one he would have shared if Linet had languished within the bastard’s grasp. “You are sure you can make it?”

Dauid nodded, his jaw set. “Aye.”

Seathan glanced at Linet. “Are you ready?”

She arched her brow. “Are you?”

Seathan bit back a scowl.

“There is no winning with women,” Dauid advised.

Uncomfortable at his friend’s easy acceptance of Seathan’s relationship with Linet, of his implied belief that more existed between them than a bed shared, Seathan stood. As much as he enjoyed her company, was intrigued by her wit, he did not delude himself. With the demands of war upon him, he could never allow more between them than a physical connection.

A bond soon severed.

Seathan waved his men forward.

Rocks clattered and scraped as the men ascended. The climb was slow, tedious, and at times the slide of rain-slicked stone forced Seathan to detour before continuing up. He blinked against the steady downpour and pushed on.

Hours later, the muted light of dawn slipped into the dismal morn. They had to reach the tunnel before any guards saw them.

Sweat streaked Seathan’s face, his muscles screamed, and the slash of rain that had battered them throughout the night fell harder. As he climbed upon the next shelf of rock, the mouth of the tunnel loomed within the pitiful light.

They’d made it!

“The tunnel,” Linet said, gasping for breath.

Seathan turned, his own breathing labored. As much as he’d wished her to stay behind, pride swept him at her determination. Throughout the climb, she’d not complained, but strain lined her face and weariness darkened her eyes.

He wished they could stop, to allow her to rest, but with Fulke’s guards on alert above and the skies growing light, to linger could be fatal.

At the top, Seathan climbed over the edge of the cliff. “Come.” He caught Linet’s hands, pulled her up, and drew her inside the entry. For a moment, she rested against him, and he wrapped his arms around her, savored the feel of her body against his as he waited for Dauid and his men to reach the top.

As if sensing his worries, Linet met his gaze. “We will save Brighde.”

“Aye,” Seathan replied, though it was not Dauid’s wife who was foremost in his thoughts.

As the last of his men reached the tunnel’s entrance, Linet stepped from his arms. “Thank you, Seathan, for trusting me.” She turned, waved to the men, and then started forward.

Without question, Seathan followed her through the dark maze, his belief in her very different from his doubt during their journey out. The contrast gnawed at him, a sharp reminder that less than a moon had passed, not enough time for her to have earned his trust.

Yet it was as if he’d known Linet for years, long enough to want her in his arms each day, and long enough to want her for a…Bedamned. He shoved the dangerous thoughts aside, focused on the tunnel around him.

Without the luxury of a torch, blackness engulfed them, a vat of darkness so unending it was as if they’d tumbled to Hades. “Use the wall to guide you,” Seathan passed to the men behind him, thankful for the darkness that shielded his emotions when he thought of Linet, emotions he struggled to understand.

In silence, his men followed behind him.

After several moments, Linet paused. “Here.”

Blackness clung to his eyes. “We have not reached the end of the tunnel.”

“I know,” Linet agreed. “We have too many men to cut across the bailey to reach the stables. We must use a passage that circles the entire castle. Before, I doubted you strong enough to travel the greater distance.” The sound of clothing rustled at his side. “There should be a torch hidden nearby. Feel along the wall for an indent concealing a flint and a torch.”

Seathan ran his hands over the cold stone. “Why is there not a torch at the entry?”

“My father reasoned the absence of light would hinder any possible intruders from attacking.”

“Smart man.”

“He was indeed.” Pride filled her voice.

With the torch lit and Linet by his side, he started down the unfamiliar tunnel. She guided them through the maze with an expert hand.

As they rounded the next corner, a foul stench slammed against Seathan, igniting horrific memories of chains, spikes, and his screams. His body trembled against the brutal memories, the horrors he’d suffered beneath Tearlach.

“Seathan,” Linet whispered.

A gentle hand lay upon his arm, drawing him back to sanity. He stared at Linet’s face caressed by the torchlight. Worry filled her gaze. As did love.

A love she’d admitted.

A love he dared not believe was real.

But he wanted to, ached with the possibility.

His dreams crumbled beneath the stench. “The dungeon,” Seathan said, his voice flat.

Linet’s fingers gently squeezed him in silent understanding as he grappled with his demons.

“The way is blocked,” Dauid said from behind them.

Seathan lifted the torch higher. A large flat stone sealed their path, its weight beyond what he and his men could move.

“There is a door to the right,” Linet said.

Dauid stepped into the flickering cone of light, his face tired, drawn, but etched with hope.

Seathan believed they’d find Brighde, and prayed she was still sane after the horrific abuse she must have endured. He ached for his friend. He wouldn’t…couldn’t think of how he’d feel if—

Giving himself a mental shake, Seathan pressed his ear against the stone.

Tension hung in the air as potent as the foul stench of the dead and dying beyond.

“I hear nothing.” He smothered the torch, then shoved.

The door edged open.

Sword drawn, he waited, ready in case a guard shouted an alert.

Silence.

Seathan peered out. Seeing no one, he relaxed and turned to his master-at-arms. “Pass the word back to take it slow.” Muffled orders sifted behind him as he stepped into the chamber that had spawned his nightmares.

A shudder rippled through him, then another. He dragged a deep breath, steadied himself as he looked around. Torches shoved in sconces illuminated the dank prison and the filth of dying men locked within their cells beyond. Groans and pain-filled cries evoked horrific memories of how he’d suffered while locked within.

Seathan stepped forward, grateful for Linet’s hand on his arm, a potent reminder that indeed, beyond evil, goodness did exist.

As his men filed into the dungeon, he broke them into groups to search the cells and release everyone imprisoned, or to aid those incapable of fighting into the tunnel.

Steps echoed. The rusty creak of a cell sounded, followed by cries of relief.

In the center of the dungeon, Seathan stared up the stone steps descending from the keep. Jaw tight, he turned to where his men completed a final sweep of each cell.

Linet walked to him, her eyes wide with concern. “She is not here.”

He drew her to him, his frustration matching her own. “Tearlach must have secured her elsewhere.”

“Within his bedchamber as he vowed,” Dauid rasped.

Seathan eyed him hard, understanding his friend’s pain. He nodded. “We will find her.” Her condition another matter.

“I will go,” Linet stated.

“No.” Everything inside Seathan protested her intent. She mattered too much to take such a risk.

“I must. Alone I have a chance to slip past the guards and search the upper floors.” Linet took in the men helping the injured into the tunnel. “If we all go, the odds are we will be seen and challenged.”

Dauid blew out a harsh breath. “She is right.”

Aye, Seathan silently agreed, not that he liked it. But if Tearlach was alerted to their presence, he would kill Brighde.

Linet held Seathan’s gaze, seeing his frustration, his realization that her going unaccompanied was the only chance they had to find Brighde—if she still lived.

“It is the only way,” she whispered. From the fierce look in his eyes, she thought he’d again refuse.

Emotion flickered on Seathan’s face: worry, grief, and need. “Come back to me,” he growled, then hauled her to him in a hard kiss. Then he broke away.

And she saw it in his eyes, the passion, the trust, and more, the feelings he’d never admit. An ache grew in her heart. By letting her go, he’d acknowledged her importance in the mission and, subconsciously, in his life. Yet she doubted he realized that he loved her.

“We will wait within the tunnel until you return,” Seathan said. “Hurry.”

At the top step within the dungeon, she glanced down. The last of Seathan’s men filed into the tunnel, but he stood by the stone entry and watched her as if her leaving broke his heart. She pressed a kiss to her hand, held it out to him, then slipped through the door.

Heart racing, she hurried along the passage. Lowered voices had her pressing against the cold stone wall. She peered ahead.

Beyond the alcove, with their backs toward her, two guards discussed a woman the other had bedded.

She glanced at the turret beyond, hoping the servant’s garb she’d taken from a chamber outside the dungeon wouldn’t draw attention. She’d donned it and knotted her hair before smearing her face with ash to disguise herself.

Fear trickled through her as Linet walked down the hallway as if she had not a care in the world.

“Halt,” a guard ordered.

She stopped.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To pick up the soiled laundry.” She kept her voice low and her eyes downcast.

The man gave a dismissive grunt. “Be on with you.”

She hurried down the corridor. Thankfully, the men resumed their talk about the woman.

At the entry to the stairs, she made her way up. At the top floor, she began her search, room after room, turning up empty.

Tired, her spirits eroding, she approached the next room—her chamber. A wisp of melancholy wove through her. The books her father had ordered copied for her sat cradled within the hand-carved shelves, the ivory comb her mother had given her the night before her death lay on a small table, and next to them, a carved dagger, a figure Fulke had made when he was but seven summers.

Everything looked the same, untouched, as if time had stood still when more than a fortnight had passed. It was as if she could lie down, close her eyes, and the life-altering events of the days before would disappear.

Except everything had changed. She’d learned of her brother’s evil, and had found Seathan’s love.

She exhaled.
Brighde.
She must find her.

Linet slipped into her parents’ chamber, now usurped by Fulke. Memories washed over her, of laughing with her parents at night, of her father telling tales of dragons and knights and a lonely princess saved from a horrible wizard.

Except that the nasty villain had turned out to be her brother. She thrust the dark thought away.

With quick, efficient movements, she searched the chamber, pushed aside the extravagant bed hangings of intricately woven silk.

Tears burned her eyes. Brighde wasn’t here. Where was she? With her brother’s twisted ways, perhaps he’d already sent her elsewhere, or she was dead.

Frustrated, Linet turned to the door. She dreaded breaking the news to Dauid, witnessing a man who’d lost so much devastated further.

A slight scratch fractured the stillness.

Linet turned. Listened. Faraway voices of servants murmured from down the hall. The laughter of a man echoed through a window from the outside bailey. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. She’d heard nothing.

Linet reached for the door.

A faint noise sounded, this time from the back of the chamber.

Heart pounding, she whirled, caught sight of a large, full-length painting. She’d forgotten her father’s private chamber beyond her parents’ bedroom. He’d used it to keep household records, draft letters, and work on other estate details.

Linet ran to the door. Her fingers trembled as she slid aside the painting, unlocked, then opened the hidden door.

A woman stared back at her, her face battered, her clothes hanging in disarray, her eyes strangled with fear.