The Crimson Castle (11 page)

The thought jolted her into action and she tugged at her gown, knowing
it would likely pull her down with him, trying to remove it. In her frustration
to remove it she gave it an almighty tug and the garment split in the middle.
With another rip it came free and she jumped into the water. The coldness
shocked her, dirty water rushing up her nose, causing her to cough as she
surfaced. Hauling her soaked hair from her face, she didn’t waste any time in
diving under. The water was dark and murky, with virtually no visibility, and
deeper than the height of two men stood atop each other.

Dread resounded through her as she felt around in panic, hoping he had not
gone far. How could she live with herself if he drowned by her hand? And he
would die believing she felt nothing but hatred for him. Evelyn was nearly to
the point of having to take a breath but these thoughts seemed to strengthen
her, giving her a second wind.

Feeling her way through the weeds her fingertips brushed against hard
fabric. She gripped at it, and with a yank began stroking her way to the
surface. He weighed her down, his waterlogged clothing impeding her progress,
but the dappled glimmer of light hailed their emergence from the gloomy depths.

Coughing and spluttering, she thanked God for her luck, as she
struggled to keep Gabriel on the surface. Hauling him up onto the cold rock,
she fell back in exhaustion as he coughed and did the same. They lay like that
for a while, both recovering from their fatigue and absorbed in their own
thoughts, too embarrassed to take the first step and apologise.

Finally, Evelyn spoke up, “Gabriel…?”

“
Evie
…?”

Words echoed through her, reminding her of her wish that she could
explain how she felt about him. Her courage drained by the reality of his
presence, she instead asked another question that burned in her mind.

“How did you get the scars on your back?”

Gabriel frowned, expecting an apology, not an inquisition, but he
relented, mayhap from exhaustion or mayhap because he was weary of burying the
secrets of his past. He didn’t question as to why it was Evelyn he wanted to
confide in.

“My father,” he said simply.

Evelyn rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her arm and looked
at him. “Your father did that to you?”

He nodded, not meeting her eye, his aversion to her pity still as
strong as ever. “He was a vicious man. He hated me. “

Evelyn didn’t say anything for fear of causing him to revert back to
his reclusive ways.

He sighed and continued, “I looked up to him. He was big, aggressive,
powerful…everything I believed a man should be but he thought I was weak and
useless. So he tried to turn me into a man.”

“And he beat you,” Evelyn concluded. “How old were you, Gabriel?” she
pushed gently.

His jaw clenched at the memory. “Five. My mother was young, and fearful
of my father having already been at the receiving end of brutality. She was a
loving woman and I became determined to protect her. I thought if my father
took his anger out on me, he would leave my mother alone.”

Evelyn’s heart ached for him, seeing him as a fierce little boy trying
to protect his mother. “Did you come to work for Lord
Tibald
to prove yourself to your father?”

“My father wanted me out of the way and he thought it would make me
stronger.
Tibald’s
barbaric behaviour was well known
and no doubt my father thought he could continue on where he had left off. But
I suppose I thought I could prove myself to him.”

Evelyn looked at him expectantly and he knew he would have to continue
his story.

“After many summers I returned home to find out that my mother had
died. It was said she had died from a fall but I knew otherwise and the
servants confirmed as much. My father did not even try and deny it…”

He turned to look at her. “I beat him,
Evie
.
I hit him and hit him until he was naught but a bloody pulp.” He took a deep
breath and lay back again. “So now you see, you were correct about my
character. I will never be a man of honour. My soul is as black as it can get.”

Evelyn, whilst despairing for the broken man she saw before her, felt
equally thrilled that he had chosen to open up to her. She decided to push him
no further, in spite of a burning curiosity to learn more about his past. She
shivered, suddenly feeling the cold air seeping through her wet chemise.

Gabriel took notice and sat up. “Forgive me, my lady, you must be cold.
We had better return to the castle.”

Helping her to her feet, she wrapped her arms around herself, teeth
chattering.  He quickly looked away when he realised she was wearing
nothing but her chemise. It was still wet and moulded to her body, leaving
little to the imagination. He groaned to himself, he was never going to get
that image out of his head.

Through clenched teeth he spoke to her, “Where is your gown?”

“Oh.” She quivered partly from cold and partly from the intensity she
had caught in his gaze before he turned away. “I had to tear it off. “

He looked around and saw it strewn on the jutting rock. Picking it up,
he scrutinized it. “I think you’ll not be wearing this in company any time soon
but ‘twill do for now.”

She laughed nervously as he walked towards her, holding the gown out.
He helped her slip her arms in as if helping her with a cloak and wrapped it
tightly around her, pulling in a breath as his knuckles brushed against her
skin.

“My
Evie
,” he whispered her name as if in
prayer.

She looked up at him, eyes wide and felt her breath quicken under his penetrating
gaze. His wet hair ran rivulets down his face, dripping upon her cheeks as she
watched him lower his lips to hers, and she gasped as he gently brushed his
mouth against hers. Evelyn felt her body soften into his and he inhaled
sharply, moving his hands up to cup her face and pulling her tightly to him.

His mouth moved against hers, more slowly than when they had kissed
before, as he tasted and savoured her. Evelyn vaguely wondered what had changed
since then, before she was lost to the sensations. She opened her mouth
slightly and when he brushed her tongue against hers, she moved her hands
slowly up his chest until she was gripping around his neck, curling her fingers
into the damp tendrils.

Gabriel groaned and intensified the kiss, making her legs tremble. He
noticed this and pulled away a little, breaking the kiss.

“You are cold,” he murmured, his large hands still holding her face.

Evelyn shook her head.

“We need to return.” But he didn’t move, just continued to hold her,
unwilling to let go.

She nodded and wrapped her arms
around his waist, enjoying the closeness of his body against hers, warming her
through her damp clothes. They fit together as if made for each other, his
hardness moulding to her softness. He moved his hands around her and she rested
her head on his chest as he pressed his lips to her hair.

Gabriel’s chest swelled with emotion, not quite believing what had just
happened. How had they gone from verbal sparring to kissing? After his
rejection of her at the castle, he was sure that she felt nothing but disgust
for him but her response to him just then…he had to believe she felt
something.  He knew in his heart he didn’t deserve her but he still prayed
that he could keep her to himself.

“Do you believe in second chances?” he asked her.

“Aye,” she whispered as he tilted her chin up to him with the crook of
his finger.

“I think you are mine.”

And he gave her a tender, passionate kiss, their hearts hammering
against the press of their chests, hands clasping at each other’s bodies as if
afraid to let go. He pressed against her, trying to commit to memory the feel
of her gentle curves under his hands, the smell of her damp hair and the
softness of her lips upon his.

Gabriel tethered Evelyn’s horse to his so they could ride back together.
It was neither practical nor necessary, but somehow they could not bring
themselves to separate from one another and wanted the sweet agony of their
union to last that little bit longer. Gabriel enjoyed having her pressed to him
almost as much as she enjoyed the feel of his rippling muscles under her arms.

Little conversation passed between them, knowing too well that their
alliance was a risky and hopeless one. Both lost in their own thoughts and
unable to define what had happened between them, they contented themselves with
small gestures of affection - the brush of hand upon hand, of a sweet kiss to
the back of the neck, the stroke of fingers upon thighs.

Before they reached the causeway Gabriel dismounted, helping Evelyn to
the ground, and untethering their horses. The narrow strip of land, designed as
a defensive feature, wouldn’t allow two horses to travel side by side and
neither of them dared risk being seen in such intimate state.

Brushing his thumb across her mouth, generating a tremor from Evelyn,
he whispered her name, his endearment finalising his stamp upon her heart. She
grabbed at his neck forcefully, pulling his head down to hers, eliciting a
rumbling chuckle from Gabriel as she pressed an ardent kiss against his lips.

With a heady mixture of fervent desire and apprehension, they journeyed
back to the castle and back into the grasping hands of their lord.

“Gabe! You better have found her or I’ll…”
Tibald
trailed off as he realised it was Evelyn who had stepped into the hall.

She affected her most submissive expression and dipped in a curtsey to
him. “Forgive my absence, my lord. I was walking and I…I got lost.”

She looked up at him to see if he believed her.

He gave her a sinister smile. “Of course you did. Women never did know
their north from their south!”  He laughed but Evelyn could tell he was
playing her as much as she was him.

He held out a meaty hand to her, forcing her to move forwards and take
it. He motioned to her to sit and took a large gulp of wine. Proffering it to
her, she declined and he took another large swig.

“Now, my dear lady, I have some unfortunate news…” He licked his lips
as he watched for her reaction.

Evelyn’s heart jumped and she tried to restrain the panic coursing
through her body. Her first thought was of Gabriel, had he found out about
them? He would surely kill him! She lowered herself slowly to the chair, trying
to ignore the feel of his sweaty hands upon hers.

“Your brother’s horse was found wandering
riderless
in
Bannam
Wood.”

Evelyn blinked, not expecting this but now knowing exactly where this
was leading. Dread settled over her and the future that she had been hoping
against suddenly loomed ahead of her. She said nothing as
Tibald
continued, an insincere look of pity upon his face.

“It appears he was attacked. My men came upon his squire, who was
injured, and it seems that some outlaws assailed them. Your brother did not
survive.”

Pulling her hand from his, Evelyn sat, absorbing everything he had
said.
William…dead?
This was not meant to happen. He
was to return for her, take her from here, and then Gabriel and she would
have…? She did not know but that fleeting feeling of hope that she had clung to
all day was sucked from her. As
Tibald
watched her
hungrily, she gulped, pulling on her remaining courage to fortify her resolve.

“How did he die?”

 “We…know not. It seems the outlaws took his body.”
Tibald
gritted his teeth in anger as he spoke.

She shook her head slowly and stood. “They took his body?
But wherefore?
You are sure he is dead? Perchance he could
be injured and looking for help!”

Tibald
pulled her down roughly and she fell
back to the chair.

“Lady Evelyn! Have a hold upon yourself!” Lord
Tibald
said sharply. “The squire said his master was dead… beyond all doubt. Do not
cling to foolish hopes.”

Evelyn shrunk away from him before steeling herself again. “What of
this squire? Can I speak with him?”

He smiled tightly, recognising that his anger had not had the desired
effect on her.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, taking a leisurely sip of wine from his
goblet, “he died of his injuries shortly after my guards found him.”

His slight smile to himself over the edge of his goblet did not go
unnoticed and Evelyn stared at him, cold hatred now
clear
in her eyes. “I see…”

She knew now there were no bounds to
Tibald’s
ruthlessness. Her dear brother, being the last obstacle between him and their
lands, had been slain for his own greed.

“I assure you we are doing all we can to find his body and we will find
these men and bring them to justice.”

Unable to bear the presence of
Tibald
any
longer she stood again, and moved away from him, in a stupor. “By your leave,
my lord, I will take to my chambers. I do not feel much like being in company
at the moment.”

He watched her through narrowed eyes. “Certainly, my lady,” he almost
sneered, “but we will need to have a discussion about your future shortly. When
you have composed yourself of course…” He smiled insincerely.

Evelyn didn’t respond and fled blindly from the room where she ran
straight into a broad chest, not far from her chambers.

“
Evie
…?” Gabriel pushed her back slightly,
holding on to the tops of her arms, so he could see her face. He saw the sheen
of tears and a sinking feeling filled him. Something had happened.

“My brother…” she whispered. She looked as if she was about to throw
herself into his arms, and he would have gladly taken her in them, but
something stopped her. When he showed no shock at her news, her eyes widened
and Gabriel saw realisation sink in. Her hand flew to her mouth and she
stumbled back from him.