Velvet Bond (35 page)

With a cry of rage, Raynor raced across the clearing after him, clearly ready to kill his enemy with his bare hands. “Come back, you bastard. Fight me. Fight me!”

Desperately Elizabeth called after her husband, “Raynor, this will serve no purpose! You have no weapon, and can never catch him without your horse. Let him go. He is too much a coward to come back and face you.”

Raynor dropped to his knees on the grass, panting as if he had run for leagues.

Elizabeth knew he was fighting hard to control the rage that drove him, the hatred that made him lust for Nigel Harrington’s blood. She knew she had to leave him to fight his demons alone. There was naught she could do until he had driven them from himself.

Besides, Elizabeth knew Raynor would not thank her for anything she might say on the subject. The look on his face when he found her with Nigel had told everything.

She wanted to lie down and cry, herself.

But she did not. It would gain them nothing.

More for something to do than from any notion that he would want her to, Elizabeth began to look for Raynor’s sword in the thick grass. All the while, she tried not to look at Raynor, who had not moved from where he knelt.

Just as she finally located the weapon and bent to raise it from the ground, she felt a hand on her arm.

Elizabeth started, turning awkwardly to face him. She looked into Raynor’s eyes. They were cold as stone. Her chest ached with the loss of what happiness they’d found in these past few days. She was filled with an aching emptiness.

All her life she’d known how to manage things and people, to smooth over difficult situations without effort. It was a gift she possessed.

But with Raynor it was not the same. Her own future happiness hinged on whether or not he accepted her.

This was one time she could not fix things.

Either forgiveness and understanding came from inside her husband, or it did not. She could only pray that it would in time.

Turning away from her, as if it hurt him to continue to look upon her, Raynor said, “We had best return to the keep.”

It was in that moment that something inside Elizabeth broke, like a wineskin filled too full. During the months of their marriage, she had done her utmost to remain calm, to be fair to Raynor, to give him time to adjust to their marriage. To her.

But Elizabeth had reached her end. She, too, had married a stranger and started a new life without having time to become accustomed to the notion. And not once in their relationship had Raynor ever made concession for that.

From inside her, the tears gushed forth.

She raised her hands to her face to stop them. But they came all the harder. As a chocking gasp escaped her, Raynor swung around.

When he spoke, the amazement in his voice was all too apparent. “You...you are crying.”

Elizabeth lowered her hands to look at him, though she continued to weep as if her heart were indeed broken. “Are you surprised, husband, that I might cry?”

He shook his head. “It’s just that I have not seen—”

Elizabeth stamped her foot in utter frustration. “You have not seen. My lord Raynor. You see very little but what you wish to. I know that I am not without fault, my lord. I know that I made a dreadful mistake in not riding directly to the keep and telling you Nigel was here. But I knew you would kill him, and I could not live with being the cause of his death. It did occur to me that I could just ride back to the keep, and thus avoid speaking with him at all, but I did not wish to live under the threat of his possible return. I thought I could simply tell him to go, and he would.” Then Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and tossed her head proudly as she waved a hand at him. “'Tis true you are my husband, and I owe my loyalties to you first. But you think only of yourself and your honor. What of mine? At the time, it seemed a small thing to save a fool’s life by warning him away. I did not know of the things he had done...what he was. You had told me nothing.”

She went on. “But you expect all of me and nothing of yourself. You want loyalty from me and give none in return. You immediately assumed I had come here with the intention of betraying you. And it will always be thus with us, Raynor.” Elizabeth clasped her hand to her chest. “Because you do not see me. You see through the eyes of the past, and the wrongs others have done you. Did you truly care for me and believe in me, you would trust that I would not do you ill, and look for some other explanation.”

A strange ache settled in Raynor’s chest as he looked down at his wife. Her eyes were dark as a rain-drenched midnight. Gone was the sparkling sapphire he’d come to love. And by his own fault.

Elizabeth was right. He should have given her a chance to explain. Raynor stood looking at her with growing sadness. And she was right about other things. Not once had he been able to see her without the pain of his childhood clouding his vision. She’d just been held at knifepoint, and all he could think of was his own pride. It was wrong of him, and the time for seeing past his hurts had come.

Raynor could not speak, because of the lump of pain in his throat. Desperately he held out his arms in appeal and whispered, “Forgive me, love.”

For long moments, she simply watched him as if she could not believe her eyes. Then, with a cry of joy, she came to him.

Raynor held her hard against him, barely crediting that she would be willing to forgive him yet again. Elizabeth was indeed completely unlike his mother. She knew how to love and to give of herself unstintingly. There was but one thing between them now. The lie he had told her and the world about being Willow’s father. But though Nigel had told Elizabeth the truth of the situation, Raynor still could not speak of it. Even now he could not betray Louisa’s trust in him by admitting the facts to Elizabeth, regardless of how much he wanted to prove his commitment to her. At long last, he drew back to speak, trying to explain without explaining. “Elizabeth...about Willow...I cannot...”

She hushed him with a finger on his lips. “Nay, Raynor, say no more. I understand, and there is no need for you to go on. You have done what you must to shelter her. You are like the wolf, and once another has been admitted to your small pack, you protect and keep them no matter what cost to yourself. How I have longed to be allowed into that select group you love so well. To openly show you my love.”

For a long moment, he simply stood there trying to comprehend her words. Then he reached toward her with a groan, pulling her back into his arms. “You love me.” His tone was hoarse with amazement. He rained kisses on her face and throat.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding to him with something bordering on desperation. “Of course I love you. How could I not?”

She drew back slightly, trying to read the expression in his eyes. “But what of your feelings? I swear on my life that I meant no harm in speaking to Harrington. I knew I loved you, and that I had to do as you asked, without explanation, as far as Willow was concerned. It was the only way for us to begin any kind of life together. I thought you might be coming to accept our marriage just a little, and I wanted nothing to jeopardize that. Besides, I’d seen for myself how much you love Willow, and I knew you would only act for her good.”

He kissed Elizabeth again, then looked down at her, his eyes dark with pain. “I admit that when I saw you with Harrington my heart did a turn. It hurt to think you had come to meet him after I had asked you not to.”

He hugged her tightly, as if he would never let her go. “But what hurt even more was seeing you in danger. I knew then that I loved you, no matter what you had done. For good or ill, my heart was given into your keeping. When I saw him with that knife...when I thought he might...”

Elizabeth pulled away from him and saw his pained expression. “I knew. I could see it in your eyes, Raynor.” She reached up to touch his face. “But I could also see that it brought you no joy to love me. Is that how it must be, Raynor? The next time you are faced with the choice of trusting in me or doubting, which will you decide? Is there no happiness for you in loving me?”

He stared at her, his gaze holding hers. When he spoke, it was slowly, every word enunciated as if he were determined to make her see that he spoke from his soul. “Aye, Elizabeth, there is happiness in loving. Greater than I ever dreamed of. The months that we have been together have been the strangest, most maddening, happiest times of my life. Before I met you, I wasn’t even alive. You helped me come out of myself and learn to see the good things around me, my daughter, you. When you showed me that you were willing to believe in me, I realized I must look inside myself and find the same faith in you. You've been nothing but honest with me. Even about our marriage. You took the blame for that on yourself, and though I let you, not all of it was yours. It was I who kissed you that night, not because you asked me, but because I could not stop myself. Even then there was something about you that drew me, despite my efforts to deny it. I have learned my lesson in this. There will be no more doubts.”

At the expression of unwavering love in his eyes, Elizabeth cast her uncertainty aside with a cry of gladness. “Raynor, I love you, and I do believe in you, also.”

“As I do you,” he said, going down on one knee before her. “Elizabeth, my wife and my love. I pledge to love, honor and care for you all the days of my life. It is I who should be asking for forgiveness. Will you...forgive me...for taking so long to discover that I cannot live without you?”

She knelt down with him, tears pouring down her ivory cheeks, her blue eyes shining. “There is nothing to forgive. You acted out of your own pain. I can simply rejoice in the fact that you now love me. I add my pledge to yours, to love, honor and care for you all the days of my life.”

Their lips met across the space that separated them, sealing their love for all time to come.

But even as he took her in his arms, Elizabeth knew that as long as the specter of Nigel Harrington lingered, they could not find real contentment. Now that she knew what he had done to his own stepsister, she understood why Raynor hated the man.

But mayhap she was wrong, and the confrontation with Raynor had put enough fear in Harrington to make him leave them be, despite his threats.

Elizabeth could only pray it was so.

Chapter Fifteen

S
tanding at the top of the steps to the keep, Elizabeth squeezed her husband’s arm close against her side. He returned the pressure as she looked around the cluttered courtyard with a smile of happiness.

Raynor had arranged this celebration in honor of their newfound joy. On the night he told her of it, Raynor had held Elizabeth close in the darkness of their bed, telling her that he wanted everyone to share in their happiness.

He felt he’d been clear enough about his displeasure with their marriage. Now he wanted one and all to see how very much Elizabeth meant to him.

Hence here they were, some eight days later, surrounded by happy faces, vivid color and bustling activity.

It was like a fair.

Tents were set up all about the castle grounds, their colors bright in the afternoon sunshine. The narrow walkways between these were crowded with the occupants of both keep and village. When those folk closest to the steps of the keep saw Elizabeth and Raynor emerge from inside, they cheered a welcome.

All understood that this day was marked as a celebration of their lord’s wedding, no matter that it came some months late. The people of the keep who knew Elizabeth had already come to love her for her generosity and fairness. The others had learned of her by reputation alone. But since word had been good of this new lady of Warwicke, they were willing to offer the couple their best wishes without restraint.

Both Elizabeth and Raynor waved to the crowd of well-wishers and started down the stairs, Elizabeth leading Willow by her free hand.

The little girl seemed spellbound by the sights before her, and she looked up at Elizabeth with shining eyes.

Elizabeth laughed as she turned to Raynor. “Nothing could have pleased her more, my love.”

He looked into Elizabeth’s sapphire gaze, and for a moment he couldn’t think past the swell of happiness in his chest. That she loved him, this beautiful, giving woman, would be a source of joy for the rest of his life. Raynor could not resist pressing his lips to those sweet red ones, however briefly. “I wanted her to enjoy this day with us.”

They moved through the crowd together, man, wife and child. But progress was slow, as the three paused to accept many wishes of congratulations as they went.

They also paused often to gaze upon the many sights that greeted them along the route.

Many of the booths contained merchants selling unusual and exotic goods. There were books in one, various knives in another, cloth of rich and brilliant color in yet another. Some even sold food, though there was to be a massive meal later, at which one and all would be welcome.

As they strolled past one particular booth, Raynor stopped when the merchant called out to him. The man reached across the barrier and handed the lord of Warwicke an odd-looking doll with strings that attached its arms and legs to sticks. By holding the doll by these sticks Raynor was able to make it move about as if by magic. When Raynor tried to pay, the man waved his arms and declared the toy a gift.