Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (22 page)

“You will do me more protection
staying right here.”

She had a point. Every time she
had been attacked, he had not been there to aid her. He sighed in submission.
“As you wish.”

She smiled triumphantly and he
could see that it had all been a ploy to manipulate him into staying. He could
not say that he was entirely displeased.  But he would exact a price for it.
His formal manner dissolved as he moved swiftly across the room and took her
into his massive arms. Aubrielle smiled at him, thrilled to be in his embrace. 
She had been hoping all morning that she would end up here. The warmth and
sensuality of it was enough to embolden her, and she kissed him deeply before
he could kiss her. Kenneth lifted her off the ground, hold her tightly against
him as their lips met in a passionate tangle of flesh and sweetness.

“You surrender far too easily,”
she murmured against him.

 He did not want to talk. He
wanted to kiss her. Aubrielle responded eagerly until the door to her chamber
creaked open. The toothless serving wench slipped in and Kenneth set Aubrielle
on her feet, trying to be discreet about it, but the tale-tell lump in his
groin spoke volumes of the events of the past several moments. He did not want
ribald stories of their lust spread around the castle by foolish servants, at
least not until they were properly married. He moved away from Aubrielle,
claiming a chair next to the hearth and pulling it over to the table where the
servant was arranging the food. Aubrielle, cheeks still flushed, sat down and
ripped into the bread.

The dog jumped onto Kenneth’s lap
the moment he sat up to the table. He frowned at the animal but did not remove
it. When the servant woman finished placing the food and quit the chamber, Aubrielle
let out a hiss.

“I shall make sure that in the
future no one enters this chamber without knocking,” she said.

 He grunted, inadvertently
stroking the dog and then stopping when he caught himself doing so. “I will
have a lock put on that door today. After we are married, it will no longer be
an issue. No one would dare risk my wrath by barging in on us unannounced.”

Aubrielle chewed thoughtfully. “I
think that I shall move into my uncle’s chamber today. Surely there is a lock
on that door and, by all rights, it is now my chamber.”

Kenneth nodded in agreement. He
found himself hungry as he watched her eat and took a pear for himself.

He took a big bite of the fruit.
“Would you care to discuss our agenda now or will it ruin your appetite?”

“We can discuss it now.”

“I would like to leave for
Highwood House by noon. Will you be ready to leave then?”

She stopped chewing. “I am
going?”

“You told me to bury your mother
with your father. I assume he is buried at Highwood House and I further assumed
you would want to be present.”

She slowly conceded. “Aye,” she
said quietly. “’Tis simply that… burying my mother brings back memories of my
father’s death. I think perhaps I was hoping to stay here and avoid facing the
unpleasant realities of my parent’s fate. But you are right, of course; I will
go with you. But on one condition.”

He had no idea what that could
be. “And that is?”

“That after my mother’s burial,
we will go on to Glastonbury.”

He should have suspected. She
could read the reluctance in his expression and she pressed forward. “’Tis
logical that we should, Kenneth. We will already be at Highwood House, which is
several days travel from here. Glastonbury is another two days beyond. We will
practically be there. Why would we not go?”

“So you view your mother’s burial
as just another opportunity to fulfill your quest?”

There was disapproval in his
tone.  “No,” she said. “But as long as we are there, I thought….”

He just looked at her. Aubrielle
thought that perhaps he was thinking what a petty, shallow woman she was. Hurt,
she bolted out of the chair.

 “Why do you stare at me as if I
am a horrid creature?” she demanded. “I already told you that my mother and I
were not particularly close. Would you have me explain to you that her
abandoning me at Kirk four days ago was not the first time that she had
abandoned me? Would you have me tell you that my mother was a mentally unstable
woman who could not handle a child and the first time I can remember being
abandoned was when I was three years of age and she left me with a trollop at
an inn and told the woman to raise me as her own?  Only when my father came
looking for me was I returned home, only to have her abandon me again and
again, sometimes with the nuns at the cloister in Kintbury and sometimes with
complete strangers. The only way I was ever returned home was when my father would
discover what she had done and went out in search of me. There were times when
it took weeks for him to find me, but find me he did. After my father died,
perhaps I wasn’t so much running to Glastonbury as I was attempting to escape
my mother. She never wanted me, Kenneth, whether she was abandoning me or
whether I was trying to escape her.  And I am supposed to grieve for this
woman? How dare you judge me. You know nothing about my life.”

She turned away from him, tears
brimming. Kenneth sighed heavily, full of regret for anything wicked he might
have thought of her. He should have known she would have her reasons. He stood
up, put the dog on the ground, and went over to her.

“Forgive me,” he said softly.
“You are correct; I know nothing about your past life other than what you have
told me. I should have suspected there was something more when you told me that
you and your mother were never close. A great deal makes sense now.”

She sniffled. “You have wondered
why Glastonbury consumes me. It is because the dream of something better, of
doing something beyond a mother who never wanted me. It was all that I had. 
Perhaps I thought I could win her love and make her want me.  But now… now that
will not happen. Yet my desire to go to Glastonbury is still as strong as ever.
It is something inside of me that cannot go away. Perhaps… perhaps now I can
make you love and want me if I do this miraculous thing.”

 He turned her around to face
him, an expression of gentle rebuke on his face. “Do you believe for one moment
that I do not already?” he asked. “Lady, you sorely underestimate my esteem for
you. You are a beautiful, intelligent, strong woman and I am deeply honored to
call you my own.”

Her tears faded.  “Sometimes I do
not want to be strong. Just once in my life, I would like someone to be strong
for me. And I would like to feel as if I am wanted and welcome.”

He pulled her into his powerful
embrace. His lips were against her forehead. “You are both wanted and most
welcome.”

She held onto him for what seemed
like an eternity. Normally, when they came within any reasonable measure of
close proximity to each other, there was a sexual pull that neither of them
could resist. But this embrace was without the lust that usually accompanied
such a tryst; this embrace was deeper, stronger, more emotionally binding.  Aubrielle
felt more wanted than she had ever felt in her entire life. At that moment,
something deep within her ceased to be wild and unpredictable.  Her soul felt
settled and secure.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

 His response was to squeeze her
tightly. But, as was usual when there were other matters at hand, Kenneth could
not chase away the larger purpose. Some matters of fate were in need of being
decided and while time was ticking away, the matters were not losing momentum. 
They were, in fact, growing.

“I truly hate to bring this up,”
he said, “and as much as I would relish standing here all day with you in my
arms, there are some items that require your attention.”

She sighed heavily, burying her
face in his chest. “Can they not wait?”

“I am afraid not.”

“Very well,” she removed her face
and looked up at him. “What is it?”

He smiled and led her back over
to the table, seating her gently in her chair. He resumed his seat, wagging a
finger at the pup when it tried to reclaim its spot on his lap.  He threw a
crust to the dog and settled it.

“Now,” he began. “The most
serious issue is something I have resisted mentioning. We have a problem with
Lucius.”

She rolled her eyes, resting her
chin on her hand. “Lucius has been a problem since I have known him. What now?”

Kenneth cocked an eyebrow. “He is
very bitter about the death of the earl and our impending marriage. And he has
proven that he is very hostile towards you.”

“I am well aware of that. The
bruise he gave me is still on my stomach.”

His expression cooled. “He is
fortunate he is still alive for what he did to you.”

“And I am, frankly, surprised to
see that he is still walking about. I saw him yesterday in the bailey. Why have
you permitted this man to move about freely with no repercussion for his
actions?”

“He was drunk when he assaulted
you,” Kenneth tried to explain, thinking it sounded rather weak even as the
words left his lips. “He does not remember anything. Lucius had many years of
flawless service to the earldom before that night and we thought to take that
into consideration. Exiling him will be enough punishment for a man of his rank
and political ambition.”

“So you are, in essence, telling
me that he will not be disciplined for his crime.”

Kenneth scratched his chin. He
was coming to think that he had been right and Reid had been wrong when they
had had this discussion about Lucius’ state of mind the night he attacked Aubrielle.
Being drunk was no excuse. At the time, Kenneth had not wanted to appear as if
he would be punishing Lucius out of vengeance. Now, he felt foolish; vengeance
or not, had Lucius attacked the earl, his sentence would have been severe. Aubrielle
was no exception. She was, in fact, more of a reason to dispense severe justice
than the earl would have been.

“What would you have me do to
him?”

Aubrielle just looked at him,
having difficulty understanding that he did not believe punishment for Lucius
was appropriate. “You have turned the castle upside-down looking for the man
who assaulted me in my chamber last eve. What do you intend to do to him when
you catch him?”

“Execute him.”

She smacked her hand,
open-palmed, on the table. “So why is Lucius any different?”

Kenneth felt more and more like a
fool. He realized he was on the defensive, a bad side to be on. He was in the
wrong and he knew it.

 “Aubrielle, you must understand.
He is my captain and entitled to special consideration. This is not a normal
situation in the least and I have been attempting to deal with this as fairly
and as impartially as I can. He attacked the woman I adore, for God’s sake. My
instinct is to run the man through and take pleasure in his pain a thousand
times over. But because he is the Captain of Kirk’s army, I must take that into
consideration and be particularly introspective and cautious in this matter. It
is not as simple as it seems.”

She bolted up, for the second
time since sitting down to their meal. “I cannot believe my ears, Kenneth. The
man could have grossly injured me and only by the grace of God did not. I will
heal. But the fact remains that he viciously and maliciously attacked me. He
must and will be punished just as anyone would be who laid a hand upon me. Are
you so muddled by duty and twisted loyalty that I must think clearly for you?”

He stood up to face her. It was a
slow, deliberate movement, full of threat and ominous power. Aubrielle could
feel the weight of his mood, but she would not back down. She did not regret
what she said in the least.

 “You do not, my lady.”

“Then why the lack of action on
my behalf?”

“I have explained this to you.”

She shook her head, slowly. “What
you have told me is that you have greater concern for Lucius than for me.”

“That is not at all what I said.”

“You have made excuses for your
weakness.”

It was a sharp, bitter thing to
say. She would have done less damage had she taken a dagger and cut out his
heart. The worst part was that they both knew she was right.

 Kenneth left the room without
another word. Aubrielle stood there, hurt beyond words by his lack of action
where Lucius was concerned.  Discouraged, upset, she plopped back down in the
chair, tears brimming in the sea-colored eyes. He had lied to her, she knew;
all of his pretty words, his assurance of his respect and feelings for her,
were lies. Had he truly cared for her, this matter would have been settled long
ago. Just like her mother, Kenneth held her in small regard, too. By his
actions, he said as much.

His half-eaten pear was near her
hand. She hurled it across the room in frustration, watching it explode against
the wall. Then she did what she always did when frustrated, hurt, or angry.

 She escaped.

***

Because of the commerce that was
dependent upon the castle, Kenneth ordered the gates opened on a limited
basis.  There were heavy guards posted at the gates, watching everyone coming
in and out of the castle.  They had searched the castle thoroughly enough that
he actually hoped Aubrielle’s attacker would try to make a break for the gates.
In a reverse of logic, he thought that if they could not go to the assailant,
let the assailant come to them.