A Daring Sacrifice (18 page)

“But many of the laws are a result of my father's actions. My uncle is punishing the people because of his rebellion.”

“Your uncle is punishing the people because he's a beast—”

I pulled out of his grip. “I have to stay and help right the wrongs.”

“And stealing a few petty jewels from helpless noblemen and women is the answer?” His expression had darkened with frustration.

“At least it fills the bellies of my friends.”

“And for how long? How long do you expect that you can go on like this, hiding in the woods and dressing as the Cloaked Bandit?”

“As long as God allows it,” I retorted, although deep inside I wasn't so sure God approved of what I was doing in the first place.

“Bulldog knows as well as I do that it's only a matter of time before Lord Wessex catches you. And when he discovers you're a woman
and
his long-lost niece, he'll flay you alive.”

Our voices had risen with the emotion of the argument. I knew the others would hear us and soon be upon us to discover what was wrong.

“I can't marry you, Collin.”

“And I can't let you stay here and put your life at risk.”

“It's my choice.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I'll sling you over my shoulder and carry you away from here if I have to.”

“I'll just run away again.” I glared at him.

He glared back.

Bulldog burst through the shrubs and nearly barreled into us. He held a hunting knife in both hands and his face was scrunched into a fierce scowl.

“What's going on?” he demanded, glancing around.

I couldn't answer him. And Collin's jaw flexed with his silence.

The others broke through the woodland, their weapons drawn, their faces creased with worry.

“Is he hurting you?” Bulldog jumped at Collin, grabbed him by the neck, and angled his knife against the bulging vein there.

“No!” I cried out.

But Bulldog didn't budge. His heavy breathing testified to his haste in coming to my rescue.

Even though Bulldog was tough and mean, he loved me. I couldn't leave him. Not after all he'd done for me over the years.

“I was proposing to Juliana,” Collin offered. “But apparently she's determined to stay here.”

Bulldog's hand fell away. His small, round eyes bored into me and seemed to ask if I was certain.

I nodded. “This is my life now. I don't belong in that world anymore.”

Bulldog glanced between me and Collin, studying both of us. Then finally, he shrugged. “I won't force you to go.”

There was something in his tone that told me he thought I'd be safer with Collin. But I knew he spoke truly—he wouldn't make me do something I didn't want to do.

Collin stared at me. But I refused to meet his gaze. I was too afraid that if I looked into his eyes again and saw his love and longing, I wouldn't be able to resist him.

Silence stretched among our group. A cold breeze rustled through the branches, and it seeped through the layers of my cloak and sent chills up my arms. I ignored the ache in my chest and pushed away all thoughts of being with Collin. He lived the kind of opulent life I was fighting against. And even though I'd noticed he was growing in compassion for the poor and would perhaps even become a benevolent ruler of his lands, I could never be with him. We were worlds apart. And as far as I could see, those worlds couldn't be bridged.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to think rationally, as I always had. I steeled my chin and shoulders. Then I slipped his ring from my thumb, approached him, and thrust it into his hand. “I don't love you, Collin, and I never will.”

Collin's back slumped and the air swooshed from his lungs, almost as if someone had pummeled a fist into his stomach.

Even if I didn't love him, I did care about him. Deeply. Perhaps even deeper than I wanted to admit to myself. But by saying the hurtful words, I would drive him away. And his leaving would be for the best. I couldn't drag him into my battles. This was no way of life for anyone. If I must live it, I would do it without bringing harm to him.

It would be best for both of us if he went away and we pretended we'd never met.

Sadness creased the corners of his eyes as his fingers closed around the ring.

I stepped back, not quite sure why it hurt so much to release the ring into his hold.

“I guess I should say my good-byes,” he said hoarsely.

“Yes, I guess you should.”

“Then good-bye, Juliana.”

“Good-bye, my lord.”

When he turned to walk away, I was unprepared for the sudden ripping in my chest. With every step he took, I realized he carried my heart with him, leaving a painful gaping emptiness in its place.

Chapter
14

I
SAT WITH MY HEAD DOWN ON THE DESK
. T
HE WIND
howled through the cracks in the shutters barring the windows. Errant drips of rain came in through the chimney and sizzled against the low fire.

I didn't care that the solar had grown steadily colder over the night and into the creeping light of a new day. I didn't care that my stomach ached with hunger pangs. I didn't care that I'd been sitting in the same spot since I'd arrived home nearly twenty-four hours ago.

I couldn't make myself care about anything.

All I could think about was that I'd lost Juliana. That she hadn't loved me. That she hadn't wanted to be with me.

I groaned and stared again at the ring she'd given back.

At first, anger had driven me. I'd stomped my way out of Wessex forest fuming and muttering, aghast that she'd had the pluck to turn down my proposal and send me away. I'd told myself it was for the best, that if she was so determined to scrounge around like a wild beast, I'd let her.

But the farther away from her I'd run, the more my anger dissipated. Until finally, when I'd reached the castle gatehouse, every trace of fury had blown away only to be replaced with a throbbing pain.

And now . . . that dull ache festered in my heart.

“Juliana,” I whispered, my throat dry. I'd made myself nearly sick every time I thought of her sitting up in a tree, ready to jump behind another nobleman and rob him of a few jewels. Her stunt had been fine—even humorous—when I'd been the nobleman getting robbed. But I grew ill at the image of her attempting the dangerous feat on anyone else. With a frustrated shout, I jumped to my feet and let my chair clatter to the floor behind me. I drew in a breath, released it . . . then threw my ring with all my might. It flew across the room, pinged against the door, and skittered back across the floor, rolling to a stop in the middle of the room.

I'd rather die than let any harm befall her. I couldn't—wouldn't—stay in my castle while she put her life in danger at every turn. What other choice did I have but to go back and drag her away from the forest? I'd haul her into one of the towers and lock her there until she promised not to run away.

With stiff limbs, I started toward the door. But when I reached it, instead of pulling it open I stopped and rested my forehead against the carved paneling. How could I force her to live here? She'd only grow to hate me. And how could I bear that?

I spun and glanced around the room, my heart racing with a need to do something, anything. I couldn't sit at my counting table, locked away in my solar—not while she was out facing only God knew what trouble. If I stayed any longer, I'd go crazy.

My gaze landed upon the open ledger, the quill pen lying discarded next to an open ink pot. I narrowed my eyes upon the black blotch at the bottom of the page where William had carelessly left the pen.

The figures told of wealth, of a fortune vaster than any other in this area. Surely I could use some of my riches to
provide for Juliana and the peasants displaced by Lord Wessex. Perhaps even move the peasants to Goodrich land, build them homes, and provide them with food and clothing. And if I brought them to my land, I could keep them safe from Lord Wessex. I could watch over Juliana and make sure Wessex never threatened her again.

My pulse slowed to a rational speed, and I took a gulp of air to calm my breathing. Bringing Juliana and her people onto Goodrich land was the perfect solution. I'd be able to give them all the food and provisions that they needed, especially with winter coming soon.

I opened the door, my blood pumping harder, my mind growing clearer. “William! Come at once!” My trusted steward would know what to do.

I started back toward my desk, my steps surer, the panic in my gut loosening. For several minutes, I studied the figures on the pages of the ledger, attempting to make sense of them. When the door squeaked open farther, I exhaled my relief. “William, I need your help.”

“William isn't here.” At my sister's quiet statement, I glanced up. She stood in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her thin face drawn. Her gown was wrinkled and her usual neat plait was unkempt and fuzzy, as though she'd slept fully clothed and had yet to groom herself for the day.

“Send for him. I need him right away.” I pushed aside the discarded pen and frowned at the inky mess William had left on the ledger. The man was clumsy, but when it came to the books, he was usually meticulous.

Irene didn't move from the doorway. “William is gone.”

At the unnatural tone of her voice, my gaze snapped up. “You mean he's dead?”

She lowered her head and stared at the slipper poking from beneath the hem of her skirt. “I don't know.”

A shiver of trepidation crept up my spine, but I straightened my shoulders and braced myself for a fight. “Stop speaking in ambiguities and explain yourself.”

She visibly swallowed. “Lord Wessex's sheriff has taken William away for questioning.”

For a moment I almost didn't believe I'd heard Irene correctly. But at the slump of her shoulders, another shiver lifted the hairs at the back of my neck. “Lord Wessex's sheriff has taken my most trusted servant? For questioning?”

Irene nodded.

“And why is he questioning William?” But even as I asked the question, a knot of dread twisted in my stomach.

“He was curious about Lady Eleanora Delacroix.”

My heartbeat slammed into my ribs. “And just what did Lord Wessex want to know?”

“She seemed familiar to him.”

“And . . .”

“And after much prying, he discovered that there is no one named Lady Eleanora Delacroix visiting these lands.”

My fingers tightened into a fist. “Then he's badly mistaken.”

“It wasn't hard to figure out, Collin.”

“You told him?” I clenched my jaw together to keep from yelling.

Irene lifted her chin. “I didn't tell him anything that he wouldn't have figured out on his own, with time.” Her eyes flashed with a defiance that made my heart sink. I knew she'd been angry with me because I'd denied her request to speak with Lord Wessex about a union with Edgar. But surely she hadn't betrayed me while I was gone. With slow, even steps, I crossed the room until I towered above her. “And what did you tell Lord Wessex?” My voice was low in an attempt to contain my anger.

Her gaze wavered. “Just my suspicions. That's all.”

“And what exactly are your suspicions?”

“You dragged her here in the middle of the night. She was disguised as a peasant in men's clothing. You had several servants remake Mother's garments for her because she came with nothing of her own. And then you offered her a pouch of gold to stay for the week. But in interacting with her, it was clear that she's not a peasant but rather a fine lady and a very fine archer.”

“What else did you tell Lord Wessex?” I demanded.

“He wanted to know which of the servants would be able to answer his further questions about your guest. So I told him Mistress Higgins and William were the only servants you'd allowed to have contact with the woman.”

“That scoundrel had his sheriff take Mistress Higgins too?” My muscles tightened. “You do know he'll torture them both mercilessly to get the information he wants.”

A flicker of remorse fell across Irene's features, and she lowered her head. “I didn't think he'd take them with him.” Her voice deflated. “I only thought he would question them here before he left.”

“That's right. You didn't think. You reacted in childish anger toward me and thought to hurt me by tainting Lady Eleanora's reputation. And now you have brought harm upon two of our most loyal and trusted servants instead.”

Her head dipped lower. “You wouldn't let me have Edgar. I only wanted to expose her for a fraud and show you how it felt to be denied what you want. I didn't think I'd bring danger to our servants.”

And she'd brought untold danger to Juliana as well. Surely after extracting fragments of information from both Mistress Higgins and William, Wessex would discover that his niece was still alive. After all, William had been on the tower
when Juliana had shared the details of her past. Even if he hadn't heard our entire conversation, certainly parts of it had reached his ears.