Immortal Love (22 page)

“These were not soldiers, Dominick. These
were farmers, blacksmiths and stable hands. Some not old enough to
be called men.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Mothers buried
their sons here. Wives buried their husbands. Ethan and Matthew
buried their father here.” She pointed to his grave.

“Ethan and Matthew have never known peace
until you came. Now you’re willing to plunge them into another
war.”

“What would you have me do? I will not allow
McPhearson to terrorize Godwin or its people.”

“There must be another way,” she pleaded. You
gave them hope, now you plan to throw them back into uncertainty.
It’s a cruel game you play.”

“This is no game. McPhearson will die by my
hand. I swear it.”

“Not today, Dominick. Let my people live in
peace for a while. Let them know prosperity.”

Dominick surveyed the cemetery. “I will allow
you this, Eleanor. I will not subject
our
people to this
war. But if the time should come that I face no other choice, you
will support me in whatever decision I make.”

She gripped his forearm. “I will ride at your
side.”

He stepped away. “We shall see.”

D
ominick walked away,
leaving Eleanor in the cemetery. She didn’t have to tell him about
young men dying. He had seen too many die in war. Some never
understood what they were fighting for.

Looking over the graves he had remembered
William’s words, “I want you to build instead of destroy.” The
words echoed when he disbanded his men.

Randolf gave him a skeptical look as Dominick
pulled him aside. “Take a small band of men and search the
surrounding area. Chase down the man who attacked Eleanor and bring
him back to me. I will know of McPhearson’s plans. Perhaps we can
find a weakness and exploit it.”

“So, you don’t plan a frontal assault?”

“This may have been an attempt to make me do
just that. Battalions of men leaving Godwin would make it
vulnerable.”

Randolf studied his brother’s face and nodded
as though he read his thoughts.

Eleanor was right, Dominick conceded. The
people of Godwin needed time to heal from McPhearson’s siege. He
remembered the gaunt women standing in the streets as he passed by
when he first arrived at Godwin. And why hadn't he noticed the lack
of men inside the village?

Godwin was growing. It had become a worthy
stronghold in the northern borders. He couldn’t allow a man like
McPhearson to destroy it. But he couldn’t allow this kidnapping
attempt to go without retaliation. He would send his men out on
reconnaissance to find any enemies that could threaten his
home.

Once inside the castle, Dominick removed his
armor. It was the first time in his life he had backed away from a
fight. This left a bitter taste. Every nerve in his body wanted to
fly out and destroy those who threatened his wife.

When she rode in after her attack that
morning he had been about to scold her for her recklessness. Then
he had seen Isolde standing beside her, and his heart went
still.

Why had her mother not warned him of
Eleanor’s peril? Realization kicked him in the stomach. When he
woke that morning his mind had been clouded with the self-pity of
unrealized dreams. He closed his heart and his mind. He would not
make that mistake again.

He had much to learn as a landowner. He
couldn’t allow himself the luxury of running down his enemies and
killing them. The price his people would have to pay should now be
forefront, as it had been with Eleanor. Protecting the castle was
vital to Godwin’s survival.

Dominick chastised himself for not
considering the ordeal Eleanor had gone through beyond how it
affected him. With her own cunning she’d escaped two men attempting
to take her by force to McPhearson. He smiled to himself. Only a
woman of courage would have spoken to him the way she did in front
of his men. Her fragile appearance was only a façade to her inner
strength.

Still, though he admired her spirit he
couldn’t allow such a scene to happen again. He would talk to her
about a more discreet method of voicing her opinion.

Turmoil over the problem with McPhearson tied
up his gut. He would send a message to the bastard. The man could
not go unchecked. He decided a walk in the village would clear his
mind and help him remember what he was protecting.

He saw Ethan, hand in hand with Abigail,
walking to a nearby well. Thoughts of McPhearson temporarily
halted. The boy hobbled a little, and Dominick noticed a large hole
in the heel of Ethan’s shoe. Ethan’s father would have made sure
his son had proper shoes. But the man was dead. Dominick shook his
head. How many other fatherless children lived in the village?
Approaching the children, he grasped Ethan’s shoulder with one hand
and scruffed his hair with the other. “So what are you two urchins
up to?”

“Getting some water for our mother,” he said
giggling.

Abigail’s hands went up begging for Dominick
to pick her up and he obliged.

“There you go little miss,” he said, setting
her on one shoulder. “Where is your brother, Matthew?”

Abigail was quick to answer. “He has to stand
in the corner for saying a naughty word.”

“Oh, really.”

“Do you want to know what he said?”

“That’s all right little one, I don’t think
your mother would appreciate you repeating it.” Peals of laughter
escaped her as he tickled her. As he set her on her feet, he looked
back at the boy. “Ethan, how long have you been wearing those
shoes?”

“I can’t remember, sir. Seems like
forever.”

Dominick lifted him on to the edge of the
well to examine his feet. “These will never do. They are too
small.”

“They are the only ones I have, my lord.”

“Well, we will have to do something about
that, won’t we? We can’t have a page of mine hobbling around with
holes in shoes.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Your page! Honestly,
sir?”

“Report to Sir Randolf first thing tomorrow
morning on the training field. He will get you started.” Dominick
lowered him to the ground and pointed him to the cobbler’s
building. “We’ll go and get you fitted for a proper pair of
shoes.”

“But sir, my mother needs the water now.”

“We will give it to her on the way. At the
same time we can get Matthew and have him fitted for a pair,
too.”

Abigail pulled to a full stop, crossing her
arms and poking out her bottom lip. “That’s not fair.”

Dominick turned and smiled. “Don’t worry my
little princess, you have not been forgotten. You will get a new
pair of shoes from the cobbler as well.”

Her eyes brightened into two big brown orbs,
and a smile spread across her face.

“Oh, thank you, my lord. Thank you, thank
you, thank you!” Her little arms hugged his leg.

It wasn’t hard to see the future of this
child. She would have men eating out of her hands with that smile
and those deep dimples.

Realization took hold. The children of the
village needed a chance to grow up. His resolution solidified. He
was their lord and it was his duty to protect them. He couldn’t do
that fighting battles somewhere else.

He scooped Abigail up into his arms again.
She nestled her head into the crook of his neck. The weight of her
head and the gentle breath that fell on his neck was like a balm to
his troubled spirit. His decision was right. “Ethan, take me to
your mother.”

The little boy led Dominick to the cottage,
where he got Matthew then took the three children to the
cobbler.

On his way he said to Matthew. “Matthew, a
gentleman never uses profanity in front of a woman-ever.”

“I know," he said, "but I was just so
angry.”

“It doesn’t matter how angry you are, never
use foul language in front of a lady.” Matthew was properly
chastised and apologized to his mother when Dominick brought the
three children back to their cottage.

“Would you like some tea, my lord? Ruth
offered.

“Yes, thank you.” As she puttered around the
table, they talked about the villagers.

“Things are much better since you arrived, my
lord. It’s like the village is coming back to life.” He smiled,
feeling a sense of accomplishment.

He thanked her for the tea and the
conversation and left, heading to the castle.
Eleanor
. She’d
faced real peril that day, even killed a man, and he hadn’t offered
her so much as a kind word. Blinded by rage, he had forgotten she
might need comforting. She didn’t think of herself, only her
people. Her selflessness brought him up short. Suddenly, an
overwhelming urge to be near her moved him more quickly toward the
castle.

He ran to their chambers, praying she would
be there. He saw her sitting on the window seat staring at the
horizon. She didn’t look up when he entered.

“Eleanor.”

Her eyes were shiny from tears. Of their own
volition, his arms extended toward her. Sobbing, she flew into
them. His heart swelled with the need to be close. He pulled her in
tightly. Stroking her back, he quietly whispered the words he
should have spoken earlier.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did today” He
squeezed her tightly. “You were so brave. I’m so lucky and very
thankful that I married a woman of such cunning and spirit.

“I was
not
brave,” she insisted
between sobs. “I had never been so scared.”

He pulled her away, and bent far enough to
look her in the eye. “Bravery isn’t doing something you’re not
afraid of. It’s rising up to the challenge and doing it in spite of
your fears.”

She laid her head back against his chest.
“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saying such kind words.”

“I only speak the truth. You’re as brave as
any of my soldiers. You stood up against McPhearson’s men and
prevailed. To my shame, it wasn’t until now that I realized just
how strong you are.”

She pulled away. “I wasn’t so brave at the
cave.”

Dominick pulled her back to him. “That was
not weakness, Eleanor but something entirely different.” He stroked
her back once more. “You’re fighting an evil you can’t see or
touch. Painful memories can’t be killed. They leave you unaware and
unprepared to deal with them. The only weapon we have against them
is time.”

“Then you’re no longer angry with me?”

“I was never angry, just disappointed and
confused, but all we need is time.”

She squeezed him tighter. “Thank you so much
for understanding.”

He pulled her back and gave her a wicked
grin. “But that doesn’t mean I will give up trying.”

A smile spread across her face sending rays
of warmth to his heart. “Please don’t.”

He placed a kiss on her lips. She responded
warmly. Despite his vow to keep trying, he didn’t wish to push her
after all she’d been through. He lifted his head. “Are you hungry?
The evening meal will be served soon.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to face anyone
tonight.”

“That’s fine. We will take our meal in here.
Quite frankly I would like some peace and quiet, as well.”

They settled in for the night and talked into
the wee hours of the morning. He knew that a war was coming with
McPhearson, but for those few hours Dominick’s heart felt
peace.

“W
hy have you
returned without Lady Eleanor?” he barked.

The soldier kneeled before him. McPhearson
noticed the gash on his arm and his blood-soaked breeches.

“We nearly had her, my lord, but she got
away. Murray was killed.”

“Killed?” Robert stopped pacing. “Killed by
whom?”

“The woman, sir.”

“By saying the woman, you mean Lady
Eleanor.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I see.” Anger brewed in him. Casually he
picked up an eating dagger, toying with its tip. “Can you tell me
how a girl half his size managed to kill him?” He approached the
soldier, Errol who now stood straight as a pole.

“I don’t know, sir. We became separated, and
I didn’t see what happened. Perhaps she caught him by
surprise.”

“Perhaps.” McPhearson tapped the tip of the
dagger against the man's chest. “Can you also tell me how you
received your wounds?”

The Errol swallowed hard. “She stabbed me
with her dagger, my lord.”

“So this slip of a girl managed to wound you
and get away.”

“She was riding an Arabian. I almost had her
but her horse was faster.”

McPhearson circled him once more. “So your
excuse for your failure was that her horse was faster?”

Errol’s posture changed to a stance of
pleading. “My lord, I will not fail you again. Please send another
man with me. Together, we will capture her.”

Like lightning McPhearson buried the dagger
in his assassin’s heart. He gave the knife a final twist, his
victim’s body jerked. “You only get to fail me once,” McPhearson
hissed, then kicked the lifeless body.

A woman screamed. His red rage hadn’t been
satisfied yet. Looking around he found a scullery maid bent on her
knees, covering her face from the horror. He was hard from the
kill. Now he needed to satisfy his lust. In three long strides,
he’d grabbed the maid’s wrist and pulled her off the floor,
dragging her toward his bedchamber.

She struggled to pull away. “No, my lord, no,
please.”

The more she pleaded the harder he became. He
slammed through the chamber door and threw the girl on the bed. She
pleaded for him to stop. Her tears irritated him.

“Silence!” He brought his fist down on her
face.

The girl no longer protested. She silently
laid still while he lifted her skirt and tore away her
undergarments.

He slammed his manhood hard into her.
Satisfaction pierced his consciousness when he punched through the
girl’s maidenhead.