Dangerous (6 page)

Rest, Elisabeth had told him, brushing her lips over his forehead before leaving. He’d dozed fitfully, his leg protesting whenever he shifted position. So he lay flat on his back, following the swirling pattern of the canopy as he would a map. He’d just reversed his course to go in the other direction when the door swung open. Elisabeth entered, carrying a tray whose contents filled the room with aromas that made his stomach rumble insistently.

“Hungry, are you?” She laughed, setting the food on the table beside the bed. “These should all settle well in your stomach, so you may have whatever pleases you.”

Eric thanked her as he reached for a steaming bowl.

“’Tis healing nicely,” Elisabeth announced as she assessed the dressing on his leg. “A few more days, and I’ll be satisfied.”

A few more days? He’d be asylum fodder by then.

He managed to stifle the ungrateful words, but his quiet sigh didn’t escape his sharp-eared nurse. She pulled back to look at him. “You’re bored.”

“I’m not accustomed to lying about with nothing to do.”

“I understand that well enough. Mother doesn’t require much help from me, so I often feel useless here. Were it not for you, I’d have very little to occupy me.”

“I could have Christian hack up my other leg if you’d like.”

“Certainly not!” The humor in his eyes made her laugh. “I’ll miss your company, but I’m pleased you’re mending so quickly.”

“’Tis from your fine care. In time, I’ll barely notice the scar.”

Elisabeth could see it in her mind, from the many times she’d cleaned and tended his wound. “It’s healing in the shape of a crescent moon. Much like—”

When she paused, he regarded her with an expectant look. Foolishness, the flutter that passed through her. Brought on by fatigue, no doubt. “Much like mine.”

“You have such a scar?”

“Oh, no. I was born with mine.” She rested a hand at her right hip. “Here.”

“A faery mark.” The eyes that met hers gleamed with fascination. “So you
are
one of them.”

The very thought of it made her laugh. “No, just an ordinary person.”

“Not so ordinary, milady.” Blazing with sincerity, his eyes held hers fast. “You possess a remarkable spirit and a caring heart. Very few can claim either one.”

Her cheeks warmed in response to his praise, and she murmured her thanks.

Looking to the bedside table, Eric nodded at the book lying open there. “What is it you’re reading?”

“Stories about Odin, an ancient Norse god.”

He gave her a curious look. “Not Christian tales?”

“I have those as well.” She crossed the room to her tall bookshelves, grateful for an excuse to move away from the bed. At times, it was all she could do to keep herself from curling up beside him. “Would you care to hear some?”

“Claire used to read stories to me when I was home. I miss it greatly.”

“I hear so much admiration in your voice when you speak of her,” Elisabeth said wistfully as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I once thought I’d have that, but I married for other reasons.”

“Many nobles do. ’Tis a shame.”

In so many ways, she added silently. But to him, she said, “Now that I’m a widow, I canna wander through the rest of my life. At one time, I considered joining the abbey nearby, thinking it would give my life purpose.”

“And now?”

Though he didn’t touch her, the gentleness of his tone passed over her like a caress. In her memory, she felt the strength of his arms around her, comforting, protecting. By confiding the truth about himself, he’d entrusted his very life to her, and it was no hardship to imagine him remaining in her bed. Night after night, filling the long, lonely hours with the passion she’d longed for but never experienced.

But she couldn’t tell him that. He’d bolt like a spooked stallion, and she’d never see him again. She could only pray that he’d remain in Caileann awhile longer so they might become better acquainted. Then, perhaps, he would find what he was looking for. In her.

“Now I think you need a distraction.” Taking the book from its place, she began to read about Odysseus and his remarkable journey home.

***

A knock at the open door roused Eric from his dozing. “Yes?”

Gabriel strode into Elisabeth’s chamber, pausing at the foot of the bed with a grin much like Christian’s. “You’re looking much better, lad.”

“A credit to your daughter’s skill.” He motioned to a chair. “Would you care to sit?”

Once he was seated, Gabriel stared out one of the windows for several moments. “He’s dead.”

When the earl finally spoke, his simple words startled Eric. “
Pardonnez
?”

“He’s dead.” Gabriel turned to him with vengeful eyes. “Ye killed the man who tried to take my daughter.”

“I did.”

“Would ye do it again?”

“Yes.”

“I thought as much.” Gabriel stood and strolled a few paces away, hands held behind his back. “I’m not usually one to pry into a man’s past, but–”

When he paused, Eric finished for him. “These are unusual circumstances.”

“Aye.” He halted at the foot of the bed, regarding Eric with a patient expression. “Whatever it is you’ve done, I’ll not be judging it. In my mind, saving my daughter far outweighs any offense you might have committed.”

Elisabeth’s promise of safety rang in his ears, mingling with her father’s assurance. And so, Eric relayed what he’d told her, surprised at the anger that still seethed in his voice. Not for himself, but for the men he’d so admired. Innocent of the ludicrous charges brought against them, they’d survived their battles with the Saracens only to fall before the greed of an insatiable monarch.

The same rage burned in Gabriel’s eyes, and the earl braced his hands on the footboard, bowing his head between his shoulders. When he lifted his head, he met Eric’s gaze with a directness a commoner such as him received from very few.

“This is not for anyone else to know, but I’ve met some of the Templars who escaped. They’re fine men, dedicated to their mission and to God, and I have tremendous respect for them.”

Eric’s chest swelled with pride, and he felt some of the weight he’d been carrying lift from his heart. “’Tis good to know.”

They stared at one another in silence, each taking their measure of the other. If he lived several lifetimes, however, Eric could never have predicted the earl’s next words.

“I wish to hire you as Elisabeth’s personal guard. We’ll discuss your pay at another time, but for the loyalty you’ve shown the Redmond, I’d wager you could name your price.”

“I’m certain your payment will be fair,” he replied without thinking, which was very unlike him. “I would be honored with such a post.”

“It’s agreed, then. ’Til you’re up and about, you’ll be needing some help. You’ve my permission to recruit any of my men for a rotation of guards.”

“I’ll ask Christian which would be best suited to the task.”

After an approving nod, Gabriel said, “Elisabeth warned me not to tire you, so I’ll leave ye to your rest. We’ll talk more later.”

Alone once more, Eric realized that he should have thought over his decision more carefully. By agreeing to watch over Elisabeth, he was now very much involved in Scotland’s troubles. Beyond that, he would be very much involved with her.

Even he could resist only so much temptation.

***

“Carefully, now,” Elisabeth warned, bracing Eric while he hauled himself out of bed. “I’ve no intention of stitching you together again.”

He settled his boots on the floor and stretched out his bed-weary legs. With Elisabeth’s aid, he rose to stand, wavering only slightly before gaining his balance. She supported him as he took his first steps in days, and while he didn’t need the help, he accepted it all the same. Having her at his side brought him the sort of contentment he’d not expected to feel ever again, and he was loathe to relinquish it. And her.

Slowly, they walked into the corridor, his leg feeling steadier with each stride.

“Very good, Eric.” Giving him an encouraging smile, she stepped away. “I don’t think you need me at all.”

Without thinking, he tightened his grasp, bringing her into his arms. Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes never faltered. Bold as any warrior, she met his gaze directly, even as her heart skipped against his chest.

Her lips parted invitingly, and she gave him a knowing woman’s smile. “You wanted something?”

He wanted her, with a ferocity he’d never felt, not even in battle. But he was her protector now, the man charged with keeping her safe. He hated to imagine the consequences he’d face for betraying Gabriel’s trust.

“Only to thank you,” he murmured, kissing her cheek before releasing her. “My leg is well healed, and I’m eager to take a walk.”

“I should go with you.” She stepped forward, halving the distance between them.

He smiled to ease the concern in her eyes. “Not to worry, milady. I can manage.”

Thankfully, she stood aside and let him go. He wasn’t certain he could have denied her a second time.

Chapter Six

One afternoon, Eric strode back to the keep after tending to Micah in the stables. Each day, his leg grew stronger, and he’d gladly taken on some of his usual tasks. Elisabeth cautioned him against pushing too hard, but the physical activity was doing him no end of good. Some of the tightness had left his chest, and he could now converse with his charge without imagining her naked beneath him. Most of the time.

He was warming himself at one of the main hearths when Christian appeared beside him.

“Come,” the young noble said with a wink. “I’ve something to show you.”

Stripping off his gloves, Eric followed him as they ascended to the family’s apartments. Near the end of the hallway, Christian paused outside an open door and motioned Eric inside. The room wasn’t large, but off to his left a small fireplace crackled, and a bed draped in handsome dark blue damask stood on the opposite wall. Christian’s pleased expression left no doubt as to his intent.

Eric held up his hands, shaking his head firmly. “No, milord. I cannot allow you to do this.”

“’Tis done.” Christian crossed his arms and scowled. “And should ye ever call me ‘milord’ again, I’ll be forced to plaster you.”

When Eric laughed, Christian joined in and threw himself across the bed. “Come, now, Jordanne. Ye need a place to stay.”

“I’m comfortable enough with the soldiers.”

“They’re packed to the walls in there. Ye canna deny this is much nicer.”

“True enough.” Eric looked around the cozy chamber. ’Twas unusual for a commoner to have a room to himself, much less one so grand.

“Elisabeth arranged this for you, to express her gratitude. I hope ye won’t insult her by refusing to stay here.”

At Christian’s taunting grin, Eric cursed and dropped onto the bench beside the door. “You’re insufferable. You know perfectly well I’d never intentionally do anything to upset her.”

“No one can convince a man to do something he doesn’t truly wish to.” His friend’s grin vanished, hazel eyes suddenly somber. “I see the way ye look at her.”

The observation jolted him, and Eric willed his features to remain calm. Had he behaved improperly with Elisabeth? He studied Christian carefully but could discern nothing from his slight frown. “How is that?”

“Worried. You think she’s still in danger.”

Eric stretched to close the door with the toe of his boot. “Timothy’s purpose that day was to acquire Lady Redmond, but he failed.”

“Arrogant bastard. Someone gave him a Redmond plaid so he could gain access to the bailey.”

“I can think of no other way for him to enter the gates when your defenses were so high.”

“I hate to think one of our own might wish to see Elisabeth taken from her family,” Christian continued.

Eric gave a tight smile. “You’d prefer a stranger?”

“Nay,” Christian admitted with a sigh. “I’d prefer my sister to be safe.”

“’Tis my job to make certain that she is.” Eric drew the dagger from its hidden sheath inside his boot. Balancing the sharp tip against his finger, he spun it while his mind wound through the alternatives. “Given your father’s wealth, ransom is a possible motive.”

“Given my father’s temper,” Christian replied with deadly calm, “any ransom would be accompanied by a swift knife to the throat.”

“An alliance, then, as a reward for her safe return.”

“Father’s loyalty canna be bought, not for any price. Everyone from Edinburgh to Inverness knows that. At most, he’d feign compliance and find a way to bring down whoever dared to use Elisabeth that way.”

“A denied suitor, perhaps.”

“She had none,” Christian told him. “John was the only husband presented to her. A sad, shameful waste of a fine woman, if you’re asking me.”

On that, they agreed in full, but Eric kept his opinion to himself.

“Whoever her pursuer is,” he mused aloud, “he’s gone to a great deal of trouble trying to abduct her. I see no reason to think he’d retreat now and give up his prize so easily.”

“Seven men dead?” Christian said incredulously. “You consider that easy?”

Eric gave a tight smile. “I was at Acre when it fell to the Saracens. When one is truly determined to succeed, seven men are nothing.”

“You have the right of it, to be sure.” Standing, Christian stretched his arms lazily. “I’ll leave you to your rest, then.”

Once his visitor had left, Eric took a few moments to assess his new—and most unexpected—private chamber. He ran a hand over the sturdy chest of drawers, smiling at the sight of David’s initials carved in the well-worn surface. The oaken furniture gleamed with a fresh coat of beeswax, and he recognized the brocade coverlet on the bed from the time he’d spent convalescing in Elisabeth’s rooms.

He hung his cloak on a peg by the door and opened a drawer to put away the few things in his belt bag. He closed his eyes and opened them again to be certain he hadn’t imagined what he’d seen.

Tunics and trews, thick woolen outer garments made of Redmond plaid. Though they weren’t new, they were whole and well cared for, unlike the battered clothes he wore. Tucked into a corner of the top drawer he found a soft leather bag. Loosening the cinch, he tipped the contents into his hand. Gleaming gold coins piled in his palm like precious sand.

He refilled the bag and replaced it. After closing the drawer, Eric strode down the hallway to Elisabeth’s chamber. The door stood open, and he saw her inside talking with her maid Glenda. When Elisabeth glanced to the doorway, he was granted a glimpse of her beautiful smile.

“Pardon me, milady. I don’t wish to interrupt.”

“You aren’t interrupting,” she assured him. “Please come in.”

With a shy smile of her own, Glenda withdrew to the sitting room.

“I wanted to thank you for the chamber you outfitted for me.”

“You’re most welcome, Eric. I hope you’ll be comfortable there.”

“I will, but how did you manage it?”

After settling into a tapestried chair, she motioned for him to take the one beside it. “’Twas easy, in truth. Once I raised the idea, there were more hands than work to be done. There aren’t many men in Caileann near your size, but all were eager to contribute some of their clothes. The only thing I couldn’t find was a new pair of boots. If you’ll visit the cordwainer, he’ll fit you for them.”

“That’s not necessary. These boots suit me well enough.”

Elisabeth’s gaze went to the battered leather encasing his feet, and she lifted an elegant brow. “I think they’ve earned a fond farewell. Perhaps they can be cut down and remade for Brodie. ’Twas he who honed and polished your sword.”

“I must thank him. He did his task well.”

She smiled, then angled her eyes to the pattern beneath her hand. “I must admit that I’m pleased you’ve decided to remain here in Caileann.”

“Your father’s offer was difficult to refuse.”

“He’s paying you well, I trust.”

“That’s not why I accepted the position. Beyond that, I hardly have need of money now, do I?”

That lovely blush swept over her cheeks, and he waited for her to lift her gaze. “It seems your generosity is boundless. I cannot thank you properly for your good care of me.”

“You’ve earned it many times over.” Clouds descended over her face, and she abruptly looked away.

Eric knelt before her to take her trembling hands in his own. “Something frightens you. What is it?”

“A feeling. A strong one.” She gripped his hands tightly, as if her will alone could keep him there. “I fear you’re in danger, Eric. ’Tis why I didn’t want you to leave.”

“I fear you’re in danger as well, milady.” He bent to kiss each of her hands, then gravely met the worry in her eyes. “’Tis why I agreed to stay.”

***

“I tell you, our latest recruits are all but hopeless.” Lounging on Elisabeth’s dainty sofa, Christian resumed the woeful lament she’d been listening to the entire time she’d been preparing for their evening meal. “For the past two days, I’ve dedicated all my time to schooling, encouraging, and sparring with the greenest young men it has ever been my misfortune to encounter.”

“They’re Redmond,” she reminded him, hoping to improve his mood by appealing to his strong sense of clan pride. “I’m sure with more seasoning they’ll serve us well.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he acceded with a sigh. “I’m mostly discouraged and tired.”

She was pleased to hear his customary optimism returning. “Mother has a night of music and dancing planned for everyone. Who will your attention be devoted to this time?”

“I’ll never tell,” he retorted, adding a shameless wink that made her wish she could match his enthusiasm.

Hands on her hips, she glared at the somber reflection of her new gown. “I look like a crow. I’ll scare the children.”

Christian peeked over the curved back of the sofa. “’Tis not so bad as that.”

“You lie.”

“But I made ye smile.” Smiling himself, he stood and took something from the small pouch belted at his waist. “Perhaps these will help.”

In his palm glowed amethyst dangles for her ears. “Christian, they’re beautiful!” She touched the baubles but didn’t take them. “I only wish I could wear them.”

“You can.” He fastened them to her ears and fluffed the curls about her face. “Wear your hair so, and no one will notice them.”

“You know someone will. Then what will they think?”

His hazel eyes narrowed, the gold in them glinting angrily. “They’ll think as I do. That it’s a damn shame such a beautiful lady must go about in unrelenting black.”

Grinning, she lifted her skirts to show him the blue satin slippers she wore.

Christian laughed, ticking her nose with his finger. “Best keep those tucked far out of sight. Mother would scold you to no end.”

“’Twould be worth it,” she declared with a defiant toss of her head.

“There’s my Lise.” With an elegant bow, he offered her his arm. “I’m pleased to see her again.”

He escorted her belowstairs, leaving her with a courtly bow and a mischievous wink before hurrying after a lovely serving girl that had apparently caught his eye. Bereft of his light-hearted company, Elisabeth stood with her father, enduring the stiff formality of everyone from the visiting merchants to the boys bringing wood for the fire. Only she and Christian knew of the decadent slippers, the bright jewels bobbing at her ears. Several times she caught him grinning at her, and she forced her lips to a properly somber line.

She nibbled at her squab, keenly aware of the eyes upon her, judging her behavior. Were she to laugh or even smile, every tongue would wag about her lack of decorum. Before long, even the hidden luxuries she wore did little to bolster her spirits.

Then the music began.

How she loved to dance. With anyone, whether he knew the steps or not. With the children, as they stumbled through the patterns laughing, cheeks flushed from their efforts. But widows didn’t dance. They didn’t smile or sing or laugh. They sat quietly in the shadows, disguised by their dark gowns, a grim reminder of how uncertain life could be.

In keeping with tradition, she seated herself near the fire to watch the festivities. Meg, bless her heart, swirled in and sat beside her, regaling her with the latest gossip she’d gleaned while dancing. While Elisabeth listened, she tried her best not to stare at her cousin’s plump waist. Even now, a child was growing inside her, perhaps blessed with its mother’s vivid blue eyes and father’s wavy hair. A bit of each parent, blending the best of them into a new, unique little person.

She longed to hold one of her own, but it simply wasn’t to be. Melancholy darkened her mood even more, and it was all she could do to pretend the latest news was holding her interest. A sudden movement in the stone archway drew her attention away from Meg.

Garbed in the Redmond colors that suited him so well, Eric didn’t cast about as most visitors did, searching the crowd. Instead, his gaze found her at once, and he crossed the hall with only a slight limp in his powerful stride.

“Please join us, Eric,” she invited, motioning him to the bench beside her.

He accepted the invitation but was puzzled by her reaction. She dropped her chin, staring at the hands folded demurely in her lap. A moment later, she drew her feet farther beneath her skirts. Was he mistaken, or had he seen a glint of gold at her ear?

Pushing the thought aside, Eric turned to Meg. “Your child comes soon?”

“Not soon enough. I’m most eager to hold—” She stopped abruptly and rested a hand over Elisabeth’s. “Forgive me. My tongue escapes me sometimes.”

“Apologies aren’t necessary. I canna have children,” she explained to Eric, then turned back to Meg with an affectionate smile. “But I’m anxious to meet my godchild. It will be my first, and I intend to indulge the bairn shamelessly.”

While the two women continued talking, Eric absorbed Elisabeth’s calm revelation. Warm and loving, she was clearly meant to have children to dote on, a husband who adored her. That she seemed destined to have neither angered him in a way that he didn’t quite understand.

Then the import of what she’d said struck him, and he frowned.