Dangerous (7 page)

“Lady Redmond?” When she turned to him, he kept his voice low. “Is your condition common knowledge?”

“I suppose so. You know how gossip travels.”

That negated the possibility of her abductor being a man who coveted her as a possible wife. Which meant that the intentions of whoever wanted her were far from honorable. Willing to sacrifice his own men and kill others in the name of victory, he was the most dangerous sort of adversary.

One with no conscience.

A gentle hand on his arm pulled Eric from his musing. “My apologies, Lady Redmond. You were saying something?”

“Twice. You seemed very far away.”

“Again, my apologies. I promise to listen more carefully this time.”

“I asked why you wanted to know about people being aware that I’m barren.” Her voice never wavered, but the sorrow in her eyes belied her true feelings.

His own emotions threatened to swamp his good sense, and he fought to maintain his characteristic reserve. He couldn’t protect her if he lost his head every time she trembled. “Christian and I are trying to puzzle out who might be behind these attempts to take you. If we can discover his motivation, we might be able to identify him.”

“I’m of no value to anyone but the Redmond,” she informed him curtly, all trace of vulnerability gone. “Of that much I’m certain.”

He wanted to tell her how very wrong she was but reason asserted itself and kept him quiet. Thankfully, Christian appeared with a pewter tankard in each hand.

“What are ye doing over here?” Christian asked, handing him one of the cups. “There are so many pretty maids about this evening. Come, dance with a few.”

“This post suits me well.”

“I see,” Christian replied with a sage nod. “The leg will strengthen in time.”

Grateful for the misunderstanding, Eric smiled. “Considering your sister’s fine care of me, I’ve no doubt it will.”

“Then we’ll wear them out, will we not?”

“Do you never behave?” Elisabeth scolded, laughing at the face he made.

When he asked one of the servers to dance, she laughed. “No, I certainly could not, but my daughter would be most agreeable.”

She beckoned to a fetching young woman with flaxen hair and vivid blue eyes. Christian bowed to her, receiving a delighted smile in reply. As the two of them joined the dancing, Eric watched Elisabeth closely. Her composure seemed forced, as if it pained her to appear calm. The wistful look in her eyes puzzled him until he felt something brush against the heel of his boot.

Keeping his head up, he slanted his eyes downward to see her skirts bouncing slightly as her feet followed the steps. Meg was engrossed in a conversation with an older woman, and Eric leaned close to Elisabeth’s ear, his eyes still on the dancers.

“I’ve an idea, milady.”

“Have you?”

Standing, he offered his arm. After a moment’s hesitation, she rose and took it, and he led her into the corridor.

The door Eric sought was open, and he guided her through with a hand on her back. Faint moonlight streamed through the narrow windows, and strains of music reached them through the wall.

“What are you doing?” Elisabeth asked as he closed the door.

“I spent some time in here with Christian last eve, and I noticed that we could hear what went on in the hall.” Turning to her, he bowed and extended his hand to her. “May I have this dance?”

Absolute silence met his request, and he thought perhaps he’d misjudged her wishes. Then she burst into laughter.

“I’d be most pleased to give you a dance, Eric.”

Though they were the only couple in the room, they followed the pattern of a lively reel, then Elisabeth taught him the steps of a Highland folk dance. He was a passable partner, but her feet seemed never to touch the floor beneath them.

When the music slowed for a more intimate dance, he reluctantly let her go.

“’Twas very thoughtful of you to bring me in here,” she said with a grateful smile. “I love to dance.”

“I gathered as much.”

She pulled away from him, glancing into a tall mirror with a frown. “I’m a ghastly sight, all in black. Sometimes I wonder—”

When her voice trailed off, Eric moved to her side. “You wonder what?”

“Nothing,” she answered hastily, shaking her head. “’Tis foolishness.”

“What is foolishness?”

Looking down at her folded hands, she softly said, “I wonder if a man will ever want me again.”

Gently, he tipped her chin up so her eyes met his. He longed to kiss her, prove just how desirable she was. But once he gave in to that temptation, he knew that not even chivalry would keep him from claiming her. Sadly, he knew a few clandestine nights with Elisabeth would be as much torture as pleasure. She was the daughter of a noble house, he the bastard son of a seamstress, so there could be nothing lasting between them. French or Scot, the rules of the nobility remained the same.

“No gown can hide beauty such as yours,” he said. “A man need only look to your fine spirit to see all he could ever want.”

Tilting her head, she gave him a curious look. “And what is it you want, Eric?”

He wanted her. In his bed at night, bringing light into his days. He wanted her laughter, her bright intelligence, everything she was for his own. Delicate and sweet, Claire had been his first love, his only love, for so long, he’d never considered that another woman might one day take her place at his side.

But an arm’s length away stood a woman who looked on him with adoration in her emerald eyes, offering him everything he could possibly wish for.

He need only reach out and take it.

“You’ve surely been missed by now, milady,” he said, holding his arm out to her. “We should return to the hall.”

***

Alone in his chamber, Eric tried to fall asleep. His evening with Elisabeth fresh in his dozing mind, he clung to the belief that he’d done the right thing leaving her with her father and retiring for the night.

A clear conscience made little difference to the rest of him. ’Twould have been easier to leash the hounds of hell than deny his longing for her. Finally, he gave up trying. Driven by frustration, he lurched to his feet and donned his woolen cloak. In the darkened corridor, he tumbled a caped figure to the floor.

The hood fell away, and his apology died in his throat. “Where are you going?”

Elisabeth pushed aside his hand and stood on her own, eyes glittering angrily in the dim light. “For a walk.”

“You can’t.”

“I can, and I will.”

She spun on her heel, but he caught her arm. “You mustn’t leave the keep, milady.”

“I’ll go mad if I stay in here another moment.”

She lifted a defiant chin, her expression so fierce it would have cowed the Devil. Bowing slightly, he offered her his arm. “Then I’ll accompany you.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Unarmed?”

Grinning, Eric reached into his right boot for his dagger. “I am always armed.” He replaced the blade and straightened. “You’ll be well-protected, I assure you.”

“Not a word to anyone,” she cautioned, pointing at him as if they were children planning an illicit romp.

Crooking his arm again, he chuckled quietly. “As you wish.”

When they strolled past the night guards, each nodded to Eric and bowed to Elisabeth. As they moved through the bailey, she drew her cloak more tightly about her throat.

“You’re trembling, Lady Redmond. Do you feel chilled?”

Rolling her eyes, she exclaimed, “Eric, by the saints! You’re an honored guest in my father’s house. Will you please call me Elisabeth?”

“I am in your father’s employ,” he corrected her evenly. “’Twould be most improper for one such as me to address a noblewoman by her given name.”

“One such as you? What sort is that?”

“You well know—”

“An honorable man? One of courage and integrity? Pray tell me, Eric Jordanne, just what kind of man are you?”

While he searched for a way to answer her, he noticed her staring intently into the shadows beside the stone blacksmith’s hut.

“You see something?” he asked, following her line of sight.

“No.”

She moved away, but he caught her arm and turned her to face him. “You’re certain?”

After another glance at the building, she nodded. “I’m certain. Would you take me back, please?”

Elisabeth’s sudden desire to return to the keep roused his suspicion, but Eric did as she bade him and walked her to her chambers.

“Bolt this door behind me.” He pointed to the other that led to her sitting room. “And that one.”

“I will.”

“Don’t open them for anyone but Glenda or your family. Or me.”

He turned to leave. To his surprise, she pushed past him and closed the heavy door, standing with her back against it. “Please don’t go back to the bailey.”

“You did see someone.”

“Over by the smithy. He was watching us.”

“What did he look like?”

“A shadow. His cloak was black, and I couldn’t see his face.” Her hands curled into fists, as if she were making ready to fight the man who’d invaded her home. “Someone in Caileann let him through the gates.”

“’Twould seem that way,” Eric grumbled absently while he planned the best strategy for capturing their unwanted visitor.

“Promise me you won’t leave the keep until morning.”

Her perceptiveness was unnerving, at best. She read him as easily as one of her books.

“Promise me,” she insisted. “Don’t make me tie you down.”

Unbidden, Eric’s gaze drifted to the wide tester bed. All but one of the drapes had been drawn for the night, giving him a tantalizing view inside the intimate space they created. Inviting him to sink into the sumptuous feather mattress and allow her to do as she’d threatened. He easily conjured an image of Elisabeth tying his wrists to the posts, caressing his naked body with her own. Laughing merrily as she rendered him helpless before having her way with him.

“Eric, what’s wrong?”

Her voice jolted him from his lustful thoughts, and he quickly returned his attention to her face. “Nothing.”

“Nothing truly, or nothing you wish to share with me?”

His heart pounded as if it meant to slam through his chest. If he didn’t leave in the next few moments…

“Pleasant dreams to you, milady.”

Pausing only long enough to hear the bolt slide behind him, he swore quietly as he strode along the corridor.

Guard Elisabeth Redmond. What had he been thinking?

***

What had he been thinking? She’d seen Eric’s regard shift to her bed, watched storm clouds blow through his eyes. Then he’d cleverly avoided her gaze and fled her chamber.

Pondering his odd behavior, Elisabeth strolled to her armoire and opened one of the carved oaken doors. She shed her heavy gown and hung it beside the other dark dresses. Gladly, she did the same with her stiff underclothes. She pulled on her new dressing gown, admiring the rich burgundy velvet in her looking glass. Completely inappropriate for a widow, somehow the elegant robe had found its way into her armoire. When she’d questioned Christian, her rebellious brother would only smile.

While she tied the bodice, she imagined Eric’s hands on her, caressing her through the soft material. In her mind, she turned toward him, tipping her face up for the kiss she’d thought he might give her earlier. One advantage of being a widow, she could read a man’s desire in his eyes.

And Eric wanted her.

The thought of having him with her all night actually made her shiver. Far from wifely duty, with Eric lovemaking would be truly that, sparked by something that she could neither define nor understand. Danger had thrown them together, and the more she learned about him, the more fascinating he became to her.

As she settled into her bed, for the first time the prospect of sharing it with a man appealed to her very much.

***

A few terse queries to the guards told Eric none of them had seen anything unusual that evening. The bitter wind had scoured the ground near the smithy’s hut, leaving it smooth as clay. Along the far wall, however, he found the imprints of a man’s boots, heavier in the toe than the heel. Someone had crouched there a long time waiting for something.

A lover, perhaps, or some bargain best made under the cover of darkness. He followed the prints leading from the man’s hiding place and bent down to examine the trail more closely. Just behind the heels, the jagged marks of spurs ticked the hard ground.

He was a knight.

A clever one who’d doubled back on his tracks almost perfectly. Glancing toward the castle, Eric no longer saw the guards who’d been standing watch when he came out.

He ran across the courtyard and up the wide stone steps. Pausing only to bar the heavy doors behind him, he dropped to a soundless walk. Knife in hand, he crept up the winding stairs that led to the family’s private quarters.

Even before he reached the top, he heard whispers in the corridor. Though he couldn’t make out the words, the timbre of the voice sounded much like his own. Dread slithered up his spine as he rounded the top step to find a man cloaked in black outside Elisabeth’s door.