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Authors: Elizabeth Elliott

THE WARLORD (12 page)

BOOK: THE WARLORD
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Tess couldn't refuse a request from an angel. She told him everything she could think of, the good and the bad, knowing the kind angel wouldn't judge her too harshly for her human failings. She fell asleep often during the telling but would awake to find the angel waiting patiently near her bed. His question then was always the same. Each time she awoke, he would ask her to say his name. He seemed to think she would forget him.

The angel seemed especially interested in her life at Langston Keep. Even though Tess admitted she didn't like to talk of that time, she dutifully answered his questions. The questions turned next to the few days of her married life.

"Kenric frightens me sometimes," she admitted thoughtfully. "I've never met a man like him. The tales are so savage, yet I don't see the cruelness in his eyes that I see in the MacLeiths. Perhaps he is just better at hiding it. 'Tis worrisome to never know what he is thinking."

"Is that why you fear him?"

She shook her head. "I fear his size
. '
Tis doubtful I will survive many of his beatings."

"Your husband promised not to beat you. Do you doubt his word?"

"Men forget their promises when they are angry," she answered matter-of-factly. The angel didn't argue that point, and Tess fiddled with the bedsheets a while before admitting her other reason for fearing Kenric. "He doesn't want me, you know
. 'Tis easy enough for a man to rid himself of an unwanted bride."

"Do you really believe your husband capable of murder, simply to escape marriage?"

Tess thought that over for a moment,
then
shrugged. "Gordon MacLeith promised to put me to death, just as soon as I'd borne a healthy heir. He said it would look as if I'd died in childbirth. It was a foolish taunt, for he only strengthened my resolve to escape. But Kenric is much more clever and cunning than either of the MacLeiths. If he intended the same fate for me, I doubt I would be sure of his plan until I felt a blade against my throat.
'Tis not an easy fear to live with."

" 'Tis
a foolish fear. Your husband intends you no harm."

"Are you sure?" Tess asked hopefully. "He really doesn't seem to like me very much, even though I can understand his disappointment. Kenric surely had his pick of all the beautiful ladies at court, but the king stuck him with me."

"You do not think yourself appealing?"

"Oh, my parents called me pretty, but all parents think their children are handsome. Nay, I do not appeal to a man's eye like the queen or Kenric's sister. Dark hair and pale complexions are the fashion these days. I felt like a limp old rag when I stood next to Helen." Tess sighed in resignation. "Perhaps Kenric will grow accustomed to my looks."

"And will you grow accustomed to your husband's looks?"

"I doubt that will ever happen." She gave an unladylike snort over the improbability of such an occurrence. "My legs tremble and my stomach acts queerly each time I look upon him."

"That bad, is he?"

"Oh, no," she breathed dreamily. She yawned again, hoping the angel wouldn't mind if she closed her eyes for just a moment.
"That good."

 

Kenric raked a hand through his dark hair, feeling just as exhausted as his bride. He'd slept in snatches the past four days, occasionally stretching out beside Tess in her more restful moments, but usually sleeping in the chair he'd pulled up next to the bed. If nothing else, her fever was proving enlightening. He yawned again and tried to clear his mind of all thoughts but sleep, awaking with a start a short time later.

Tess was sitting up in bed and smiling quite prettily. He smiled back uncertainly, wondering who he would be this time. She appeared as though she might almost be recovered, but there was something odd about her expression, something elusive in her appearance that made her seem several years older, the look in her eyes somehow wiser. Yet the color had returned to her face and she was, if possible, more beautiful than ever.

"Kenric!"
Her smile was nearly blinding. She held out her arms, hugging him fiercely when he moved to sit on the bed. "I have missed you so!"

Her warm greeting stunned Kenric. "You are feeling better?"

"I feel wonderful now that you have returned. It seems like a year has passed instead of a month. What think you of your new son?"

"Son?"
Kenric asked, truly dumbfounded by this turn in the conversation.

"Your son," Tess chided, playfully nudging his arm. "You left only a week after his birth. Surely you have not forgotten the babe already? Or are you still pouting that I have yet to produce a daughter?"

"I… I am not sure what to say," Kenric said honestly.

"Then say you are happy to have three fine boys." She rubbed up against his chest.
" 'Tis
been long enough since the birthing to start working on your girl," she purred seductively. Tess traced little kisses along his throat until Kenric pulled her away.

"Now is not the time," he chastised, annoyed to hear desire thicken his voice. "You must rest."

"I have rested nie a month now." Her pout turned up at the edges as she trailed her fingers along the inside of his leg. Kenric caught her hand, unable to believe she would have carried through with the direction her actions were leading. The playful smile faded from her face. "You do not want me?"

"This is not the time," he told her again, wondering how on earth to handle this situation. He knew the fever was ruling her mind, but something in her look and the certainty of her words made the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. "How long have we been married?"

"What an odd question. Have you forgotten the celebration of our fifth year of marriage already?" She looked worried by his reaction, and placed a gentle hand against his forehead. "Are you feeling quite well, milord? You are acting rather strangely."

Kenric stood up, reminding himself of Old Martha's words about the fever's delusions, but he couldn't rid himself of the odd sense of reality this one stirred.

"What is it? Is something wrong with the babe?"

"Nay, 'tis you who's been ill, Tess.
Ill
with a fever these past four days, ever since I found you in the woods aiming an arrow at my chest."

"That was years ago," she argued. "What on earth would make you say such a thing?"

"Because it is true.
I have not left this room these last days, much less been on a month-long journey."

"I think you are the one who should be in bed," Tess teased halfheartedly. She patted the covers. "Come rest with me a while. You have had a very long journey, love."

Kenric slid into the bed against his better judgment. He wasn't at all surprised when Tess tried to kiss him.

"Just one kiss," she promised. "Then we will rest. Agreed?"

Kenric smiled at the hopeful tilt of her eyebrows. He leaned down and kissed her softly, feeling the raging heat of fever through that slightest touch. Tess was asleep before he lifted his head. Kenric lay back on his pillow and sighed, wondering what to make of this latest hallucination.

7

Tess opened her eyes slowly, her senses disoriented and groggy with sleep. The dim light coming through the window said the day was just beginning or just ending. Dawn, she decided. She knew without looking up that it was Kenric's chest beneath her head, his strong arm around her waist to hold her securely in place. His deep, even breathing made her believe he was asleep.

Her eyes slid along a sideways view of his bare chest, one eyelash fluttering against the crisp mat of black hair. The bedcovers were pushed to his waist, and Tess knew from the way her leg lay draped around his that he wore little or nothing below the covers. She'd never lain with a naked man before, never touched one so intimately. The clear, steady sound of his heartbeat was comforting somehow, his scent familiar as she drew a deep breath.

Tess shifted her leg higher. She'd only meant to get more comfortable, but her eyes widened in alarm when her knee brushed against the most intimate part of him. Even if Kenric wasn't awake, his body certainly was. Before she could collect her thoughts enough to be shocked by that discovery, Kenric gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him.

"How do you feel?"

Her answer was a hoarse whisper, startled out of her by the fact that he was not only awake, but looked as if he had been for some time. "Awful."

Kenric reached past her for a goblet that sat on a bedside table. He slipped his arm around her shoulders to prop her up, then held the cup to her lips. "Drink this."

Tess drained the contents in greedy gulps. Kenric took the empty goblet, then his gaze came back to her face and he eyed her dispassionately. "The fever has passed."

"I did say it would pass by morning," she said defensively, pulling the covers higher. Waking up in bed with a naked man definitely required one to be on her toes, especially when the man seemed to be in a far from pleasant mood, but Tess could barely collect her thoughts. She pressed her fingertips against her temples, trying to concentrate. Her head ached fiercely and her eyes didn't seem capable of focusing properly when she moved her head. "You see? It was nothing to worry over."

Kenric jerked the covers back then rose from the bed with a barely muffled curse.
"Aye, 'tis morning, wife.
And time to face the reckoning."

"What reckoning?" Tess asked, trying to sort out her thoughts. She glanced around the room, surprised to find it messy. A tray of half-eaten food lay on one table and some of Kenric's clothes were strewn about the floor. She didn't recall the room being so cluttered last night.

"Do you really think you can defy me without punishment?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of breeches.

"I defied you by coming down with a fever? I am to be punished for falling ill?"

"You will be punished for sending me on a wild-goose chase," Kenric said through clenched teeth. "You will be punished for nearly putting me in the extremely awkward position of having to explain away your death mere days after our wedding. You nearly died, you little fool."

" 'Twas
just a fever," she whispered.

He studied her face, searching for an answer he apparently did not find. "What do you recall of your illness?"

"I recall you carrying me to this room last night. We had a short conversation and retired for the evening."

"Allow me to refresh your memory, Lady." Kenric locked his hands behind his back and frowned down at her. "Not two hours after I carried you to this room, you fled like a thief in the night.
Not only from my bed, but from the castle itself.
And 'twas not last night, but five days ago."

The look of dawning horror on Tess's face said her memory was indeed refreshed. She pressed her hands against her forehead, as if trying to stop the rush of returning memories.

"Then imagine my delight when I found my wife, only to have her aim an arrow at my chest.
Compared to that, wondering for five days if she would live or die was only slightly more pleasant."

"Oh, nooo…" The moan was long and drawn out. Tess kept her hands over her face, but she began to rock slightly.

"I assume that means you have recalled your idiocy. Are there any details that need clarifying? Any small points you cannot recall clearly? Do let me know, wife. I will be happy to recount your every deed."

"I cannot remember my illness," Tess said helplessly, trying to piece the puzzle together. "What came before, aye, but nothing after we left the
woods.
"

"You became a raving lunatic," he answered in an almost bored tone. "The very first day you took one look at Old Martha, the healing woman I'd sent to tend you, and flattened the woman with your fist."

"Nay!"

"Aye.
The servants thought you possessed by demons. You do realize that most believe
hot coals laid against the skin is
the only way to exorcise demons?"

Tess paled and shook her head.

"Rather than allow my terrified servants to tend a woman they clearly thought crazed, I took over the duty myself. You should be well pleased with yourself, Lady. Many would be impressed to learn that you turned the Butcher of Wales into little more than a sickmaid."

"I—I find this very difficult to believe," Tess whispered, her mind still unable to accept everything he'd told her.

"The night we married, I would have said the same," Kenric replied evenly. "Yet since our marriage, you've slit a man's throat, betrayed me, and put me to more trouble than any female on the face of the earth. If you were trying to make me regret this marriage, you have succeeded. I should have taken you to a convent when I had the chance."

"Aye, you should have," she answered softly. "In a convent I would never know the burden of taking another man's life, or risking my own to flee what I thought was certain death. And whispering during vespers is surely the most trouble I would have been like to cause."

The wintry expression that settled over his features made Tess regret her rash outburst. She knew before he spoke that she should have remained silent.

"Do not twist my words, Tess. Your small attempt to stir my pity is pointless. It tells me that you are trying to shift the blame for your actions rather than accept responsibility. And accept it you shall.
Aye, wife.
'Tis time for the reckoning. By your own misdeeds, you have lost any rights to husbandly consideration. I will judge you today as your lord. Stand before me, Tess."

The cool finality of his words struck terror in her heart. Tess stared at him in silence, paralyzed by fear, trying desperately to think of some argument in her defense. She had betrayed him. She would be punished the same as any other traitor. The punishments that came to mind made her thoughts spin dizzily.

Although she tried to comply with his order, fear combined with her lengthy illness made obedience impossible. She managed to get her legs over the side of the bed, but her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor. Humiliated by her defeat and terrified by her helplessness, she remained there.
Waiting.

"Stand before me," he repeated, his voice lacking any trace of compassion.

She shook her head and whispered, "I cannot."

The silence lasted so long that Tess felt the sweat on her palms grow cold and clammy. Then her hands began to tremble.

"So, you are unfit to receive your punishment," he said finally.
"Just as you are unfit to be my wife anytime soon."

Tess felt herself nod. Her chemise was tangled about her legs and one sleeve had slipped low on her shoulder, but she was too numb to care about something
so
trivial as her modesty. Her worst fears were coming true. She'd tried to escape the Butcher, and she'd been caught. And just like the MacLeiths, he wanted her alive. Yet the fact that they all had an interest in her life didn't make the living of it any easier. She would be made to pay for her deceit, and pay dearly.

Tess closed her eyes, beyond tears or crying, beyond pleas for mercy. She'd known the consequences and could do nothing now but accept them. There was no compassion in the man she'd lain with so intimately this morning, no tenderness or feelings for her that would temper his judgment. He'd made it clear that he disliked her intensely. She had plenty of experience with men who hated her.

Kenric grasped her arms and hauled her to her feet, intending to vent more of his anger. He had known all along that she was too weak to stand before him. He'd given the order simply to prove a point. Making that point was the only thing he was likely to find satisfying for quite some time. From the deathly white pallor of her face, he guessed what was happening a moment before her eyes rolled back and she went limp in his arms.

"I will be gone exactly seven days. She will not leave this room for any reason while I am away. Is that clear?"

The sound of Kenric's deep voice stirred Tess from her sleep, but she opened her eyes only a crack and didn't stir from her cocoon of blankets. From beneath her lashes, she spied two soldiers near the doorway. Both nodded and echoed, "Aye, milord."

"That goes for you as well," Kenric added, turning toward a woman who stood near the bed. "If she talks any one of you into disobeying my order, I will see all three of you in the dungeon. Miriam, you will see that she heals as quickly as possible. I want her healthy when I return.
Completely healthy."

"Aye, milord," Miriam answered.

"Other than Old Martha, she is to have no visitors. Tell my wife she is to do nothing that might jeopardize her health and that she should use this time to prepare herself to greet me properly upon my return."

Tess closed her eyes, afraid someone would sense her fear if she kept them open. She had seven days to prepare for his punishment.

After he left, Tess tormented herself by trying to imagine what horrible punishment she would receive. Then she tried to cheer herself up with thoughts of what it might not be. If Kenric had spoken truthfully that day in the woods, he did not intend to return her to the MacLeiths. That would have been the worst punishment she could imagine. He also said he wouldn't beat her, but she didn't put any stock in those words. Not now. He'd given her a promise, and she'd betrayed him. She had no right to expect him to keep any promise.

She didn't realize she'd sighed aloud until Miriam looked up from her sewing. The two guards had left with Kenric, but the servant remained.

"You are awake, milady?" Miriam asked needlessly. Tess nodded glumly. "My name is Miriam, milady. The baron left on a journey not long ago. He will be—"

"I heard his every word. You've no need to repeat them."

Miriam bowed her head, making Tess feel guilty about the curt answer. It wasn't Miriam's fault that she'd been ordered to guard her baroness. The servant had a friendly face, kindly blue eyes, and soft waves of gray hair that gave her a motherly air. The quality of her fawn-colored gown said she held a position of some importance at Montague, probably that of lady's maid to Helen. Tess tried a more congenial tone. "It seems we are to be companions for a time, Miriam."

"Aye, milady."

A long, uncomfortable silence passed between the two women. Tess gazed steadily at the servant, trying to guess her loyalty to Kenric, wondering if she might be bribed while trying to think of something to bribe her with. Even if the servant could be persuaded to her camp, there were two of Kenric's guards just outside the door, the same two who had rushed into the room the night Kenric discovered her injuries. That meant they were probably two of Kenric's most trusted soldiers. She would never make it past the door. Miriam's gaze finally dropped to her lap and she resumed her sewing.

"I would like you to tell me everything you know about
Montague
Castle
," Tess said abruptly. The servant looked up warily from her work.

"Mistress Helen does not allow gossip about the family, milady."

It was telling that Miriam's concern was with Helen, not Kenric, but Tess had to dismiss that oddity for the moment.

"I am not asking you to gossip about the family," Tess said. "I am your baroness, Miriam. I have a right to know about those who live here. You may begin by telling me the names of those who hold positions of importance within the castle, the duties of the servants, and any trades or craftsmen living within the walls or in the village."

"Milady!
There are well over three hundred living within the walls, and as many in the village."

"Then we may need to review the list twice, to make sure I forget none."

Miriam's list took two days to recite, even though Tess didn't ask the woman to repeat the names as she'd threatened. Much to Tess's delight, Miriam was a natural gossip and couldn't help but interject opinions and hearsay with the facts. One thing she learned was that Kenric refused to involve himself with anything related to running the castle. He made sure of the castle's defenses, but it was Helen's duty to oversee the daily operations of the place. As near as Tess could tell, Helen had performed her duties quite adequately until Kenric's return from
Wales. She'd done little or nothing since then. And time was measured strangely at Montague. Anything of importance happened either Before the Old Baron Died, or After the Old Baron Died. After would have been when Kenric assumed the title. That seemed to be when things at Montague began to decline, and Tess sensed an undercurrent of resentment against her husband because of it. So much the better, she decided, even as she pushed aside the nagging thought that Kenric was being judged unfairly by his people. Not that they had any right to judge him in the first place.

BOOK: THE WARLORD
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