Immortal Love (12 page)

Martha’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Really?”

“Yes,“ she said with a
sad smile. “He played as though he were one of them. They had no
fear of him and hung on his every word. He showed real affection
for the children. And later, when I came down for the evening meal,
he was so gallant and full of compliments, my head was spinning.”
The tears started anew. “When he slapped the cup from my hand I
thought—“

Martha rubbed her mistress’ hands. “That it
was your father all over again.”

“Yes.”

“You do realize if he hadn’t done so, you
would be dead.”

Eleanor shivered. “I know, but how did he
know what was in that cup?”

“I cannot say, my dear, but it was a good
thing he did.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

The older woman pushed Eleanor’s hair off her
face. “Try not to think on it so. You will have the answers in good
time.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Martha stood. “You’re alive, and I’m grateful
to his lordship for that.”

Suddenly, loud noises came from the corridor.
Eleanor bolted out of the chamber door despite Dominick’s order to
stay inside. At the top of the stairs she looked down into a
chaotic scene where people shouted and dogs barked. All of the
kitchen servants were lined up in the hall. Dominick stood like a
statue amidst all the activity.

“Silence!” he shouted, and instantly the hall
fell quiet.

Two guards restrained one servant. He tried
to struggle free, but when Dominick approached, the man
stilled.

Towering over him, Dominick looked down, his
expression cold as death. “Did McPhearson pay you to poison the
wine?”

The steward was clearly frightened. “No, my
lord.” He shook his head vigorously.

“You poured the wine?”

“Yes, my lord, but I did not poison it.” The
man dropped to his knees, pleading. “Please, my lord, you must
believe me. I would not do such an unthinkable deed.”

As Dominick paced before the servants,
another movement in the hall caught Eleanor’s eye. Erik walked
toward a cat that meandered in and, scooping it up, held it close
while he stroked its fur. It was an odd behavior considering the
amount of activity that surrounded him. Putting the cat down, he
gave it a final pet, then walked over to Dominick pulling him away
from the line of servants.

After a moment of conversation, Dominick
turned back to the wine steward. “The question seems to be, at any
time did you leave the wine unattended?”

The steward seemed confused by the question.
“I’m not sure, my lord. Maybe for a moment when the cook required
my help with taking the roasted boar off the spit, but it was only
for a moment, sire,” said the old man.

Erik stood behind a man that was larger than
the rest. He didn’t fit in with the others. The man look more like
a soldier than kitchen help. Erik stood straighter, as though
expecting something to happen.

The tension in the air was palpable as
Dominick slowly walked down the line of servants eyeing each one
individually until he stood before the stranger. Without looking
back, he asked, “Steward, tell me, have you ever seen this man
before?”

“N—no, my lord.”

Dominick turned to the other servants. “Has
anyone ever seen this man before?”

There was a murmur among them as they shook
their heads. Like a trapped hare the stranger tried to run, but
Erik quickly grabbed him from behind in a great bear hug. When
Dominick plowed his fist into the captive’s stomach, he stopped
struggling.

Stifling a gasp, Eleanor’s hand flew to her
mouth.

Two guards pulled the man off the floor as he
gasped for air and glared at Dominick. Before anyone knew what
Dominick was about, he’d torn away the captive’s sleeve.

Eleanor recognized the exposed mark
immediately, and shock rushed through her body.

“You bear the mark of McPhearson’s crest.”
Dominick’s voice was dangerously calm. “What were your orders?”

The soldier smiled. “To kill you and steal
the bitch and take her to Aurora Castle. With you dead he could
take the land and her too.”

Eleanor sickened at the thought of the clan
leader touching her. Pressing her hand to her chest, Eleanor leaned
against the stone wall, unable to believe McPhearson’s man could
get so close to them. They had been careless to let down their
guard. The gates were open to anyone, including Robert McPhearson’s
people.

Dominick grabbed the man’s tunic. Holding her
breath Eleanor feared her husband would snap him in two. Finally,
he released the spy. Eleanor expelled the air in her lungs, bowing
her head in relief. She expected that the assassin would be taken
to the dungeons. The ringing of a sword being drawn pulled her
attention back to the great hall. At once, she realized Dominick’s
intention.

“No!” she cried as she ran toward the stairs,
but it was too late.

Dominick thrust his sword into the would-be
assassin’s middle and up into his heart. With horror she watched a
river of blood run down the sword. The soldier’s face turned grey
and his eyes widened with the realization of death. Dominick
withdrew the sword, and the body crumpled to the ground.

Nausea seeped in, not from just the gruesome
sight of the blood pooling on the floor, but the raw act of
violence. Martha grabbed her from behind to keep her from falling
over the top of the stairs. Just then, Dominick looked up at her.
His eyes were dark and still in the throes of a murderous rage.
This is what she knew. This was the man she expected. A ruthless,
merciless, warrior. She felt hollow as Martha pulled her back into
her chamber. There she vomited until she was weak and her ribs
sore. This was her fate. A lifetime of violence, and no peace in
sight.

I
n the small hours of
the night, Dominick sat before the fire in the great hall, berating
himself. How could he have been so complacent, so captivated by
Godwin and its lady. He had forgotten the reason he was sent
there--to protect her and their lands. He would not forget again.
His mistake had nearly cost Eleanor her life.

By ordering the assassin’s body tied to a
horse and sent to the McPhearson border, Dominick had sent a strong
message to his enemy. Any more attempts on Godwin or Eleanor would
be met with the same deadly result.

And no more wagons would be allowed to enter
Godwin without a full inspection first.

His thoughts moved to Eleanor, remembering
the horror in her eyes. He hoped he hadn’t undone the progress he’d
made toward gaining her trust. The thought sickened him. Did she
again view him as a violent man, incapable of mercy?

If only she had stayed in their chambers as
he had ordered. Yet he would have done nothing differently. The
price for attempted murder of his family was death.

Dominick cleaned his sword, and then placed
it in the fire. It was a ritual he had done since his first kill as
a young mercenary. It seemed so many years ago. Feeling older than
thirty, Dominick realized William was right. His life was built on
a foundation of blood. Now he wanted more. More than just a sliver
of land and a few gray stones to house him. He wanted a family.
Playing with the children in the stream only intensified that
desire. But the look in his wife’s eyes had turned his hopes into a
mist of fantasy. He shook his head in despair and gazed deeper into
the hearth’s fire.

Randolf appeared, carrying a pitcher of ale
which he used to fill Dominick’s goblet.

Dominick looked inside the cup. “It’s ale.”
Randolf gave him a rueful smile. “And I poured it myself.”

Dominick half chuckled and took a long drink,
letting the brew drift down his throat and settle in his stomach.
The small burn comforted him. Then his gaze turned back to the
fire.

“She came to you again.”

“She warned me about the wine.” Dominick
slammed his fist onto the arm of the chair. “I don’t know how she
breaks through my wall, but she does.”

“Good thing she did. It saved Eleanor’s
life.”

“Yes, but if she can come through, can
others?” Rubbing his eyes, Dominick muttered, “I cannot endure that
hell again, Randolf.”

“It has been years since you experienced
these apparitions. Perhaps she’s so strong because she’s close to
Eleanor. You must tell this ghost where she needs to go and put her
soul at peace.”

“I never see her long enough to send her
anywhere. She comes for a span of a heartbeat, delivers her message
and disappears.”

Randolf sipped ale, thoughtfully gazing into
the fire. “Let’s hope the danger has passed and she will no longer
haunt you. Keep Eleanor safe and the ghost will stay away.”

“I hope that will be true, but as long as
McPhearson still covets Godwin, there is always a threat.”

The two men fell silent, quietly drinking
their ale, each deep in thought.

Randolf broke the silence. “I see you still
adhere to your old superstition. You are still purging spirits from
your sword by fire?”

“After all that we have been through, how
could you consider anything we do superstitious?”

“I suppose you’re right. If I saw ghosts, you
bet your last gold piece, I would observe every superstition there
was.”

Dominick’s brief smile faded. It was late,
and he needed to face Eleanor. Dreading the confrontation, he drank
the rest of his ale then stood to retrieve his sword from the fire.
“I will see you in the morning, Brother.”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“The truth.” He continued toward the
stairs.

“She won’t believe you.”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s the only explanation
I can give her. Good night.”

“Good night and good
luck.”

A
sense of foreboding
penetrated Dominick’s heart more deeply with each step he climbed.
He would give anything not to see fear in his wife’s eyes.

The chamber door wasn’t locked as he had
expected. Upon entering he found Eleanor sitting near the hearth,
staring vacantly into the fire. She didn’t look up when he walked
in.

Concern pulled on his shoulders and knotted
in his neck. “Are you all right?” When she didn’t answer right
away, fear crept in.

“How did you know the wine was poisoned?” Her
voice was hollow, void of emotion.

Dominick had rehearsed this conversation over
and over in his mind during the course of the evening. But now he
found it hard to answer. Stalling, he placed his sword on the bed.
He sat in a chair opposite hers, studying her expressionless
face.

“You may not believe me if I tell you.”

The glow of the fire bathed her skin in hues
of gold. He wanted to run his fingers across her cheeks, but
resisted the urge to touch her and webbed his fingers together.

“Tell me anyway.” He hadn’t expected such
venom. Or her expression. Her body was ridged, like a stone wall he
had to hurdle, but he had to make her believe the truth.

“My explanation begins when I first arrived
at Godwin,” he said on a long breath, then hesitated. Silently she
waited. He plunged forward. “The morning you ran away. That’s when
she first appeared to me.”

“Appeared to you? Who appeared to you?” she
asked.

“It’s going to be hard for you to believe.
She wasn’t a person from this world.”

“What are you saying? You mean to tell me a
ghost told you I ran away?”

He pulled a chair in front of her and sat
down “Let me finish.” This evening when you were about to drink
that wine, she appeared again and told me it was poisoned.”

Her mouth hung open a moment then she bounded
out of her seat. “That is ridiculous. Do you take me for some fool
that would believe such a story?”

He leaned forward. “How else could I have
possibly known you were going to ask to sample the wine? Eleanor,
you don’t drink wine
.”

“I know!” I didn’t think it could be staged.
As you have said, you didn’t know I would ask to try it.” She threw
up her hands. “But I can’t understand this story you’re telling
me.” Sitting back down, she stared into the fire. “What does she
look like?”

Her question took him by surprise. He shifted
in his seat and rested his elbows on his knees. “Her hair is
golden, her eyes are green like yours, and she has a small, dark
beauty mark at the bottom of her jaw.” He pointed to the spot below
Eleanor’s left cheek. “Right here.”

The blood completely drained from her
face.

When she made a gasping noise, Dominick was
up in an instant pouring water into a cup and handing it to her.
“Here, drink this.”

Her hands shook so hard he had to hold the
cup to her lips. Once she settled, he pulled the water away,
stroking her back until her breathing slowed.

The shiny pools that filled her eyes were
like daggers in his gut.

“My mother betrayed me to you on the day of
our wedding?”

He took her hand. “McPhearson’s men were
waiting in the forest. You would have walked into an ambush. She
did not betray you, but was instead protecting you. Just like she
did tonight.” Dominick swallowed. It was time she knew the rest.
“There is something more . . . I don’t believe your mother
committed suicide. I believe she was murdered.”

Eleanor went completely still. “How would you
know that?”

“She showed me. Eleanor, she was stepping
away from the edge of the cliff when I saw her pushed.”

“By whom?”

“I sense it was your father.”

He saw the storm of anger begin to brew. Her
eyes grew dark, her lips pressed against the thunder growing in her
mind. Standing, she moved toward the table as laughter like the
crackle of lightning escaped from her throat. “He made me believe
she didn’t care about me,” she said softly. “My mother was murdered
by that abomination of humanity.”