Joanna Davis - Knights In Shining Armor (8 page)

              He knew now that he would never let her go, no matter what Edward decided.

              She would be grateful of course and show him in the best way possible… with her delightful body. His love was still shy but her passionate nature made her an excellent bed partner. He loved the way she fought losing control to him. Every night it was the same. He'd toy with her body until she was insensible with desire. By then, he'd be aching too. When she finally let go of all sense of decorum, only then would he give her the release she craved.

              It was getting close to dinner so he decided to let the men go a bit early. He wanted to bathe and find a trinket to give to Emeline.  A token of his affection. He'd called for the jeweler to come to the castle. The man also happened to be the local magistrate and serve as postmaster. In the middle of the countryside, many of the gentry wore more than one hat. He was expected to arrive shortly before dinner. Rowan had to hurry to be ready for him.

              An hour later he was selecting an amber necklace from Mr. Henry Jefferson. He'd also set aside the matching bracelet and was eyeing an emerald ring. It was costly, but when he saw it he knew it would be a perfect bride gift for her. The dark green was the exact color of her beautiful eyes.

              After they'd completed their transaction Rowan invited the man to dine with them. He was of middle years and seemed affable enough. They'd be working together closely in the future, he knew.

              "I thank you but I am expected back home. Before I forget, I wanted to ask if you wanted the Lady Emeline's letters returned to you?"

              "Her letters? What do you mean?"

              "The former Lord Fairhaven forbid her to send mail. I've been holding back her letters ever since she arrived here. I have a trunk full."

              "I see. Why? Has she sent something recently?"

              "Yes, last week in fact. It's a letter to a Lady Pauline Woodruff. I have it with me now. Would you like to see it?"

              Rowan had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that his world was about to come crashing down around him.

              "Yes, I would."

              Henry handed him a neatly folder parchment. He stared at it. The letter was sealed with Lady Emeline's family crest, not the Fairhaven mark.

              "It's a funny thing now that I think on it. That's the only letter that wasn't addressed to the military."

              His head shot up.

              "What did you say?"

              "In the past five years I have withheld hundreds of letters from Lady Fairhaven. Every single one was for a soldier whose name escapes me at the moment. Not one of them made it past me as far as I know. Can't blame the man really, who would want their wife sending letters to another man?"

              Rowan suddenly felt as if he'd drunk a barrel of wine. His head was spinning from the information he'd just been given. He swallowed convulsively.

              "You still have the letters you say?"

              "Every one. Didn't seem right to destroy them. Not sure what to do with them now though."

              "Bring them here."

              "Are you sure? It would take a year to read them all. Womanly nonsense most likely."

              "Yes. I'm sure."

              The man took his leave then, promising to call again soon with the undelivered mail. Rowan hardly noticed. He felt the blood coursing through his veins, pulsing in his temples. She had written to him after all. Had she asked for help? Forgiveness? He wouldn't be able to think of anything else until he knew.

             
He had to read those letters.

Six

              An hour later his good will was slowly vanishing. He had read her letter to her Aunt asking for shelter. She must have written it before he'd made her his woman. After all, she was pleased with him now. He decided to resist the urge to mention it to her. He would be generous and not punish her for sending the letter without his leave.

              He was waiting for Emeline to join him for the evening meal but she had yet to appear. He waved the old woman over as she was pouring ale for the men.

              "Fetch your Lady, Magda. I grow weary of waiting."

              She nodded and left the chamber. The old woman had been warmer to him since he'd taken Emeline to his bed. She trusted him now that she could see he'd kept his promise to be gentle with the lady. An alliance of sorts had sprung up between them.

              It didn't take her long to return. Magda stood by the doorway and caught his eye. He felt a deep sense of unease that increase tenfold when the old woman shook her head. He stood and crossed to her, pulling her out of the great hall behind him.

              "What is it?"

              "She'd not in her room, nor the kitchen."

             
"What?"

              A terrible feeling was settling into the pit of his stomach. Something was terribly wrong, he knew it. He called Wyeth, Peter and Kenneth to his side and quickly explained that Emeline was- he didn't want to say the word 'missing' but there was no other word for it. He told them to search the castle and the grounds without attracting attention. Then he ran outside to the one place he thought she might be.

              Magda was at his heels as he approached the goat pen. He cursed under his breath as concern turned to anger.

             
The stupid little goat was gone.

              Clearly Emeline had left at some point since he saw her that afternoon. No one had taken her. She'd
left.
He closed his eyes as rage blossomed full blown in his chest. She had disobeyed a direct order. She was his and she had run away.

              She had betrayed him. Again.

              He would find her and she would have to be punished this time. He could not let her think she could behave this way and get away with it. Jaw clenched, he ordered his soldiers to comb the countryside for him, then he went looking for the serving woman.

              He found her in the kitchens, looking fearful. He loomed over her as the other servants cleared out of the kitchen, leaving steaming pots to sway over the fire.

              "Where is she Magda?"

              "I don't know. I swear to you."

              "You know where she is."

              "No!"

              He did not believe her. All women were liars. That truth had been affirmed for him today.

              "Tell me woman, or you will not like the consequences!"

              She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

              "I dinna know, but I can guess where she's gone. And why."

              He narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to shake the woman.

              "You will tell me now!"

              "One of the kitchen girls told me your men were talking in the great hall. She heard them say that when your bride came, you'd give the lady Emeline to the soldiers for their pleasure. They were saying all the things they were going to do to my Lady. She said that… Emeline heard them too."

             
"What?"

              "You made a promise to take care of her! How could you do this to her? She's not a toy to be passed around! I'm not helping ye find her so ye can turn her into the castle whore! You can beat me and I still won't tell!"

              The old woman was yelling at him in the middle of the kitchen. In the midst of all the turmoil in his mind, he took a moment to be glad no one else was witness to this.

              "Listen to me Magda. I did not say that to my men. I would never have said that. I planned to wed her, damn ye!"

              "Don't lie to me! I know yer kind. Ye'll take what you want from her and then ye'll discard her without a backward glance!"

              "No! I wouldn't!"

              He was vehement in his response but a little voice reminded him that it was exactly what he'd planned to do before he'd seen the tapestry. He closed his eyes. This was his fault. He should have made Emeline's position plain to the men. He couldn't fault them for wanting her. He shouldn't fault her for running.

              But he did.

              She should have come to him and asked him. She should have trusted him! His gut tightened as he grabbed the old woman again.

              "Tell me where she is Magda! Look outside, there's a storm coming. She's not safe out there on her own!"

              The old woman bit her lip, clearly unsure that she could trust him. Something in his eyes must have convinced her to tell him.

              "There's a tunnel from the storeroom. It goes to the sea. I'll show ye."

              He followed the woman below stairs, stopping only to grab a torch from the wall. As he stepped into the dark tunnel he swore to himself that when he found her, he'd have her chained to his bed. She'd never run from him again.

**********

              Emeline was doubting her decision to run away as soon as the sky started to darken. Why must it storm on this of all days? She pulled her cloak closer around her as she hurried along the shoreline. It was getting late and there was definitely snow in the air.

             
Better snow then rain!

              She prayed fervently that the abandoned fisherman's hut in the woods still had a roof. The little goat was doggedly trailing her, despite the temptation to nibble on this or that. The beach was full of tasty little treats for a hungry goat. Thankfully Bessie was fiercely loyal to her mistress and did her best to keep up.

              She was a couple of miles from the harbor where the tunnel let out before she saw the familiar outcropping that marked the path to the old stone structure. She hurried along it, freezing and already missing the comforts of home.

              But there was something she missed even more than the warmth and safety of Fairhaven.

             
Him.

             
She already missed him.

              She knew that she would miss him for the rest of her life. He'd marry and sire children, living happily in the beautiful castle she'd come to love. Meanwhile she would be alone, a poor relation whose living was dependent on her Aunt's good graces.

              That was if she was able to actually get there in safety.

              She pushed the rickety old door open and surveyed the room. It was drafty and full of refuse but at least there was a roof over their heads. She laid the blanket on the ground made herself and Bessie as comfortable as possible before taking stock of their provisions. Bessie provided milk to wash down Emeline's dinner of bread and cheese before making her bed on a pile of stale hay.                             Emeline felt her eyes tear up as she considered her predicament. She hadn't thought this through well enough. Her aunt could be gone from this world for all she knew. Where would she go then? For all she knew she was alone in this world save for the little goat snuggled up into her side. She squeezed the animal, grateful for her warmth and affection. Bessie licked the salty tears from her cheeks, making her smile despite her worries.

              Outside the snow began to fall.

**********

              Rowan cursed as he slammed his leg into yet another tree stump. He couldn't see a damn thing in this darkness! It wasn't the bruised shins that were making him anxious though. It was fear.

             
Where was she?

              The thought of her out here alone, potentially injured or worse was making his guts clench in worry. She must be alive. She had to be. Any other thought was inconceivable. His earlier visions of punishing her for defying him were being quickly replaced by images of her safe and sound, in his bed, by his side.

             
Please Jesu let her be safe
.

              He stared into the shadowed woods, imagining her out here alone and unprotected. There were men everywhere with torches, fanning out in either direction from the tunnel's exit, all the way to the shore. It was well past nightfall and the snow had been falling steadily for some time, obscuring any tracks she might have left. The men were clearly exhausted, but he would not sleep, nor let them sleep. Not until they found her.

**********

              Cold. She was so cold. Emaline was woken by an odd sound. As she became aware of her surroundings she remembered where she was, and why. After a moment she recognized the sound as her teeth chattering. Even poor little Bessie looked miserable in the dim light afforded by the moon.

              What had she been thinking? Running away so ill prepared was fool hardy in the extreme. She lacked tinder, or any way to start a fire. She would freeze here if she stayed any longer. And she'd dragged her little friend along with her!

              Emaline forced herself to her feet. She'd have to go back and swallow her pride. He'd be angry with her of course. He'd probably revert to being cold and cruel. But anything was preferable to the sharp cold biting into her hands and feet.

              She wrapped herself in her cloak and slipped the rope back over Bessie's neck. She pushed against the flimsy door but it was stuck. With a burst of determination she pushed it open.

              White.

              The world had turned white. She could no longer see the identifying marks that had led to her to this path. In fact, she could no longer see
the path itself
. She took a step and sunk, the snow reaching above her ankles. She took another step and it reached her knees. She scooped up the befuddled goat and clutched her to her chest.