Authors: Julia Hawthorne
“Lord Redmond,” he acknowledged with a bow of his head. “Forgive me for not standing to greet you properly.”
“That’s hardly necessary, lad,” Gabriel assured him as he sat in a chair nearby.
“You should know I’m far from innocent in all this. Lord Colton paid me well for my services.”
“I should hope so. From what my sons tell me, you’re a skilled and courageous warrior.” Gabriel leaned forward with a fatherly smile. “Mistakes can be forgiven if one truly wishes it.”
“I do wish it. What do you require of me?”
“Only the truth.”
While Elisabeth carefully stitched the deep fissure in his shoulder, in a halting voice Miguel relayed all he knew of Grant’s plans. Christian scribbled furiously at Elisabeth’s writing desk while the Spaniard confessed his role in the attack on Redmond Keep, expressing shame that he’d not recognized the extent of his employer’s obsession. John’s death troubled him greatly, along with the many others who’d lost their lives.
“’Twas not intended to happen as it did,” he added in a voice laden with regret. “Even Lord Colton admitted that. Often he seemed frightened that his ambition might be out of his control.”
“Yet he didn’t stop,” Gabriel noted. “Why?”
“He said that Redmond had stolen his wife, and I think he believed it. Though he paid us well, the thought that his lady was abducted by a rival caused many of us to be less suspicious of his motives than we might have been.”
“His wish, no doubt,” Christian commented.
“Our orders were to harm no one who didn’t resist and to touch nothing inside the keep. He wanted only two things: to reclaim his wife and kill Redmond for daring to take her.”
“What of Kevin Blair?” Eric asked.
“Who?” After hearing a terse description of the false priest, Miguel shook his head. “I’ve not met him. Was he involved, as well?”
“We have his confession and now yours,” Gabriel answered as he slowly rose. “To my mind, they’re proof enough to confine Grant for a king’s tribunal.” He turned a sympathetic gaze on his youngest son. “I’d imagine you wish to lead the escort.”
“Indeed, I do.”
“I’ll allow it with one caveat.” The earl paused with a sober look. “Grant Colton will arrive here bound but unharmed. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Father.”
***
“Miguel.” When his dark eyes opened, Elisabeth helped him sit and held a cup to his lips. “Drink this. ’Twill bring down your fever.”
He did as she bade him, dark eyes watching her over the rim of the cup as he drank. Not only would the lemon balm tame his fever, the willow bark would ease his pain so he might rest more comfortably. Though he’d uttered not a single complaint, from the tightness about his mouth she knew he was suffering greatly.
Instinct told her that more than his injury plagued him. She dipped a cloth in the basin of cool water and pressed it to his burning forehead. “You must have led a most interesting life. Tell me about it.”
“I was born in a village near Barcelona and from the time I was seven, I held all manner of jobs. After my mother died, I apprenticed with a weaver.” Chuckling quietly, he continued. “He had four ugly daughters, and one evening I heard him telling his wife he planned to marry the ugliest one to me. I crawled out a back window and never looked back.”
Though he was a stranger, he reminded her so much of his brother, she couldn’t keep back a smile. “Where did you go from there?”
“I signed on with the crew of a ship going to Nîmes. From there, I went to Moulins, then not long ago I found my way to Paris. Such a place it is.” He added a shameless grin, and she could only imagine the raucous times he’d enjoyed there.
“Is that where you met Grant?”
Grimacing, he nodded. “I swear to you, I’d no hint of what he had in mind for me to be doing.”
“The fault doesn’t lie with you. When Grant wants something, he finds a way to have it.”
“You know him well, milady.” He heaved a resigned sigh. “I’ll not regain the use of this arm, will I?”
She longed to reassure him, but she couldn’t. Instead, she encouraged him with a warm smile. “Whatever happens, you’ll have a place here with us. I’ve no doubt that with practice you’ll learn to use your left hand as well as you do your right. With your charm, you’ll not lack for maids eager to share your company.”
“Charm,” he repeated with a crooked grin. “’Tis what brought me into this world, my father’s charm. Eric, as well. I wonder how many others he’s left in his wake.”
More like Eric and Miguel. Fierce warriors with devilish grins and generous hearts. A flush crept along her jaw, and she fanned her cheeks with her hand. “Not very many, I hope. Two of you are nearly more than I can bear.”
He joined in her laughter but quickly grew somber. “Do you know he loves you?”
“Aye, and I love him as much.”
“When this business with Colton is finished, what will you do?”
“Make a life with Eric and Andrew.” Taking his left hand, she squeezed it gently. “I’d very much like for you to be part of it, as well.”
“
Familia
.” Even in Spanish the word seemed unfamiliar to him. “I’ve not had one in a long time.”
“You do now,” she told him, smoothing the furrows from his brow as she helped him lie back. “You should rest, let my herbs do their work.”
Sighing, he closed his eyes and drifted off again, her hand gently clasped in his.
***
Eric lay on his back in the bed in Elisabeth’s former rooms, Andrew cuddled in his arms. A smile played over the boy’s face, and he murmured sleepily, turning so his other cheek rested on Eric’s shoulder.
With Elisabeth, they’d have the life they should have shared from the moment he was conceived. A family, he mused with a grin. For months, his fine house had echoed with silence, and now it would be filled with Elisabeth’s heart-warming laughter, Andrew’s babbling conversation.
And Miguel.
They’d have time together while he recuperated, to learn about one another, perhaps forge some common ground beyond their mysterious father. Eric smiled, grateful that his lonely existence was about to become more than he could have hoped for. Behind him the door opened, and Elisabeth entered the chamber where they had shared so many passionate nights. He shifted so she might join them in the generous bed.
“How is Miguel?” he asked as he settled his arm about her.
“Weak, but his fever is manageable, and the poultice seems to be containing the swelling. I only wish I could honestly tell him he’d recover full use of his arm.”
“His career as a mercenary is done, anyway. After giving testimony against his employer, no one will hire him.”
“He seems to have many talents,” she ventured, following the lacings on his woolen tunic with her finger. Then she tipped her head back to smile up at him. “Much like his brother.”
“I doubt that his ambition runs to farming.”
“With his friendly ways, he might enjoy being a shopkeeper. Perhaps he’ll take a liking to one of the merchants’ daughters.”
“Or several of them.” He chuckled. “Have you become so attached to him already?”
“I have.” She nestled closer and rested her cheek on his other shoulder. “For all his swagger, I think he’s rather lost.”
Kissing her temple, Eric smiled. “I’m certain you’ll help him find his way.”
***
“We’ve searched everywhere, Father,” Christian reported grimly as Gabriel motioned for Eric to join them in his receiving room early the next morning. “He’s vanished, but we found a cave filled with provisions, clearly meant for him should he ever have need of a hideout. It appeared he’d been there recently but left before we arrived.”
“His men?”
“The garrison is still in place at Briarton. The others—” He shrugged.
“May I offer an opinion, Gabriel?” Eric asked.
“That’s why I sent for ye, lad.”
“Colton won’t be content ’til he regains his wife. To keep her and Andrew safe, you’ll be forced to lock them in this castle under constant guard.”
“That’s absurd,” Christian protested.
“Or you could offer him something else he desires,” Eric continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.
“Which is?” Gabriel prompted.
“Me.”
“You’re mad,” Christian declared. “He nearly killed Miguel, and you plan to dangle yourself before him like raw meat to a wolf?”
“’Tis the only way to end this. My farm appears to be isolated and defenseless. Once he realizes that I’m not here, he’ll come after me, and I’ll deal with him when he arrives.”
“Too dangerous,” Gabriel proclaimed.
“Eric, I agree. It’s far too risky a plan. What if Grant isn’t alone?”
“He will be. His fight now is with me, and he’ll not be satisfied merely to know I’m dead. You heard his instructions to his men last night. He wants to kill me himself.”
“Must ye say it like that?”
“Fear not,
mon
ami.
” Eric patted Christian’s shoulder. “I have a few tricks he’s not yet seen.”
***
Eric sensed the movement outside his house even before he saw the shadow slinking along the ground.
It had been three days since the Redmond clan’s fateful raid on Briarton, and one of his front doors stood open to admit the evening breeze. Heavily scented with pine, the air rang with the sounds of nocturnal creatures beginning to stir. A mournful owl was answered by another, and two wolves yipped back and forth in conversation.
“A lovely night, is it not?” he asked without looking up from repairing Micah’s bridle.
“You’ll no doubt be pleased to know I’ve been forced to live in the woods like an animal,” Colton retorted in a clipped voice.
Adopting a casual mien, Eric tipped his chair back and grinned. “Few animals live in caves stocked with smoked meat and wine.”
Glancing about, Colton demanded, “Where is Elisabeth?”
“I’ve not seen her today.”
“And last night?” Edging closer, he snarled, “Did you enjoy bedding my wife?”
The time for sparring had passed, and Eric eased his chair onto all four legs. Rising to his full height, he hoped to intimidate Grant. Though not long ago, he’d have been satisfied only with the man’s life, he truly had no wish to kill him. As the furious nobleman rushed him, he saw no hesitation in those pale brown eyes, only vengeance.
Eric moved from behind the table and easily sidestepped the first attack. The man seemed dazed and weak, his normally fluid movements disjointed, but his gleaming knife didn’t waver as they circled each other searching for an opening. Staggering a bit, Colton stumbled. The knight Eric once was would have driven his knife home as his opponent fell.
The man he’d become reached out a hand to steady him.
With inhuman strength, Grant knocked the knife away, pinning Eric’s arm behind him whilst locking an iron grip about his throat. Nudging the tip of Eric’s own blade into his back, he snarled, “At last, I’ve bested you. I only wish Elisabeth was here to watch you die.”
Blood, a trickle at first, and then more, slithered down Eric’s back, and he couldn’t decide whether Colton sought to impale him or strangle him. As his lungs strained for breath and spots danced before his eyes, he fought desperately to escape the lethal hold.
Suddenly, Eric pitched forward, barely catching himself on his hands before crashing to the floor. He scrambled out of arm’s reach, and only then did he turn to glance over his shoulder.
A look of horror frozen on his aristocratic face, Grant clawed at something he felt behind him, then dropped in a heap. After what seemed an eternity, his lifeless body went limp, slumping as if the bones had left it completely.
Behind him stood Elisabeth, Eric’s fallen knife still in her hands, her gown spattered with Colton’s blood. Her expression a mixture of fury and remorse, she dropped the blade as if it had bitten her.
Eric struggled to his feet, but at his first step, pain shot from the small of his back to his toes. If she’d not steadied him, he’d have landed back on the floor.
“Lie down,” she entreated. “Let me have a look.”
Grumbling all manner of curses under his breath, he stretched out on his stomach.
“’Twill have to be stitched,” she declared as she folded the lower part of his tunic onto itself and tucked it into the waist of his trews to stem the flow of blood.
“Of course, it will,” he muttered in disgust. “I let him trick me, Lise.”
“I know. I saw.”
“Why the Devil are you here?”
“I overheard your conversation with Father the other day so I knew what you’d planned.”
He pushed himself up to sitting, frowned when he saw the taut lines about her mouth. “And you followed me down here each night to wait for Colton?”
“It seemed the only way to ensure I’d be here if you needed help.”
“I’m most grateful for that, but I regret being the reason you were forced to make such a difficult choice,” he said gently.
“You were dying. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”