Immortal Love (5 page)

Could he win his young
bride’s heart? Dominick let out a great sigh. He’d fought so many
battles, and yet it seemed he had to fight one more.

T
he sounds of supply
wagons noisily rolled into the bailey. The bleating of goats and
sheep being herded behind them brought Dominick out of his
thoughts. He turned to direct the unloading of the wagons.

Bags of grain, enough to feed two armies
through a bitter winter were unloaded and sent to the
newly-repaired granary. Temporary pens had been built to corral the
animals, and rubble from the stable’s charred remains was carried
away. For the next few hours a cacophony of activity filled the air
as the castle was put to temporary order.

Outside the bailey walls later that afternoon
Dominick greeted the return of the four men he had sent to hunt
game for the wedding feast. They brought plenty of deer, fish and
fowl for the evening.

As Dominick inspected the outer portcullis
wall to take inventory of needed repairs something captured his
attention from the corner of his eye. Eleanor stood at the edge of
the cliff at the far corner of the bailey.

His heart hammered against his chest as he
broke into a flat out run to get to her before she fell.

But he was too late. “Eleanor, no!”

She looked at him with sad eyes then fell
over the ledge.

He ran to the spot from where she had fallen
and leaned over the side to look where she should have landed.

There was no body smashed against the
rocks.

Frantic, he called her name again then turned
at the sound of footsteps running up behind him.

“Dominick! What in God’s name are you
doing?”

Randolf pulled him back from the cliff’s
edge. Both landed hard on the ground, knocking the air out of
Dominick.

He felt his stomach rolling, wild with fear.
“Didn’t you see her? Didn’t you see Eleanor fall over the
cliff?”

“I saw no one on these cliffs except
you.”

“Damn it, I saw her. . . Come with me.”

Dominick returned to the castle in a full run
with Randolf right behind and grabbed the first servant he came
upon.

“Lady Eleanor, where is she?”

The maid was visibly startled. “I believe she
is with Martha, my lord.”

“Where would I find Martha?” he asked
impatiently.

“Follow the north corridor—the third door on
the left.”

Dominick ran through the hallway shouting
Eleanor’s name. He stopped short when he saw her step through her
servant’s doorway. Without thinking he put his hands on her
shoulders then gently touched the side of her face. He had to make
sure she was real. She looked at him in confusion, yet didn’t pull
away.

His breath came in deep gasps, and his heart
began to slow. When he could finally speak he asked, “You’re
well?”

“Of course I am. What is wrong with you?”

He saw suspicion in her eyes and let her go.
“Nothing, my lady”
Nothing? It was so much more than nothing. I
just saw my wife jump off a cliff.
His heart was still racing.
“Please forgive me.”

As Dominick walked away, Randolf fell into
step beside him. They stopped just inside the gatehouse.

“This is the second time in less than two
days. I thought your mind was closed to them.”

“It was, but this spirit is strong.” Dominick
looked down at the ground and kicked the dirt with his toe. “After
seeing what I saw, I have no doubt its Eleanor’s mother, Lady
Isolde. And now I know how she died.”

“How do you know her name?”

“I don’t know how. It may have come to me
when she told me Eleanor had left Godwin.”

“I thought her death was a suicide.”

Dominick shook his head. “I don’t believe it
was. I believe she was murdered.”

“What did you see?” Randolf asked, voice full
of concern.

“She was standing at the cliff's edge. Then I
saw her step back when suddenly she fell as though someone had
pushed her.”

“God’s teeth! Eleanor believes her mother
killed herself. Everyone does.”

“I know.”

“What are you going to tell Eleanor?”

“I’m not telling her anything just now.”

“Why not? You can’t keep her in the dark
about this, Dominick.”

“She hates me. I can’t tell her about my
so-called gift. She will think I’m insane.” Dominick turned back
toward the castle. “No, this can wait a while, at least until
everything settles down. This is still all too new for her.”

“I wouldn’t wait too long. She may hate you
more for keeping it a secret.”

“That is if I tell her.”

“It would be cruel not to tell her.”

Dominick sighed. “You’re right, I have to
tell her some time, but now is not the time.”

“What do you think is making this ghost so
strong?”

“A mother’s love. Nothing is stronger than
that. She’s protecting her daughter. When she died she couldn’t
protect Eleanor growing up, but now I’m her vessel and she will use
me to keep Eleanor safe.”

“You believe she’s that strong?”

“I’m sure of it. I have never experienced a
spirit more powerful.”

“Why do you think her mother was
murdered?”

“That I don’t know. She may reveal it to me
in time. This time she wanted me to see how she died. I will have
to wait to see how this unfolds.”

L
ater that day
Eleanor heard the sound of hammers pounding and shovels digging.
Looking out her chamber window, she saw goats and sheep being
herded into pens, and men clearing away rubble. Restoration of
Godwin had already begun. The new lord was wasting no time in
making the castle his own.

Conflicting emotions swept over her. Relief
that Godwin would not be plundered by Robert McPhearson and left to
ruin. The resentment that the castle she had fought so hard to keep
together had now been taken away from her. For the rest she felt
consumed by sadness. She prayed not to be bound to any man, but
those prayers had been ignored. She sighed deeply. The reality was
that she could never keep this land safe on her own. If not
McPhearson, other predators would try to take her land, and with no
army Godwin was exposed to anyone who wanted it.

Out over the horizon, the sun began to set.
Soon the wedding feast would begin. Already the smells of venison
cooking in open pits rose up to tempt her hunger. It had been
months since McPhearson had burned their crops. Since then, she and
her people had not eaten a decent meal.

But along with the meal came wine and ale.
Her heart filled with dread at that thought. Inebriated men could
not be trusted. And then her wedding night would follow. She knew
she could not endure a drunken assault from her husband.

Yet, Dominick’s kiss in the church had been
gentle, his touch when he’d found her in the hall just a few
moments ago barely a whisper. His actions were conflicting her
expectations. Was it all a ruse? She feared that running away and
her sharp tongue may have pushed him to his limits.

At that time she hadn’t
cared, but now she faced being alone with him, and her nerves
frayed. Would she pay for her insolence on her wedding night, she
wondered, or would he be forgiving? Her shoulders slumped. In her
experience men couldn’t be trusted. They were blind beasts, ready
to pounce on any unsuspecting prey. With any luck, Dominick would
drink himself unconscious, and Eleanor would have one more night of
peace.

T
he great hall was
filling up with people, and Dominick wondered if Eleanor would come
down and join the celebration. Finally, he saw her descending the
stairs, and relief filled him as he watched her.

He took the time to study Eleanor’s gown. A
worn, faded brown, it looked as though it had been mended in
several places. Despite her feelings for him his heart went out to
her. The hardships she had endured were more than most women could
bear, yet she had survived. For that she earned his respect.

And she was beautiful, despite her shabby
clothing. Nothing could hide her marvelous green eyes, her creamy
white skin or her sensuous full lips. Desire blew through his soul,
and he closed his eyes to tamp down the threat of being consumed by
it.

When he gazed back at her he was met with a
cold glare. The jade stones of her eyes held no warmth for him,
making him feel as though he had been thrown into an icy river. But
since Eleanor had seen little good in men, Dominick was challenged
to disprove her belief that all of his kind were vile beasts.

Meeting her at the bottom of the stairs, he
bowed deeply. “My lady.”

She nodded formally. “My lord.”

He held out his arm for her. She hesitated a
brief moment then with a small tremor placed her hand on his
sleeve. Upon reaching her seat at the head table, he pulled out her
chair. He knew it was an act of chivalry she hadn’t expected.

Trenchers overflowing with food were placed
before them. Dominick saw longing in Eleanor’s eyes and wondered
how long it had been since she’d seen a good meal, or a piece of
meat. While Godwin was under siege food must have been scarce.
Empathy for what she had endured pulled at his heart.

He pushed the trencher closer to her. “Eat,
Eleanor. There is plenty.” She hesitated for a moment then began to
eat in earnest.

While watching her pull the leg off a roasted
pheasant, he noticed her wedding ring rolled around her finger and
was at risk of falling into the food. She jumped, pulling away when
he touched the ring.

“Please, give me your hand.”

She reluctantly placed it in his. He removed
the ring then pulled a gold chain from around his neck and strung
it through. Her body was rigid as he put the chain around her neck,
and he watched the muscles in her jaw work together as though she
forced herself to keep still.

“This should do until we are able to put some
meat on your bones.”

Looking down in surprise at the intricate
gold chain, she traced the delicate pattern with her fingers then
eyed him suspiciously. “What will this gift cost me?”

“It’s only a trinket, Eleanor. One which you
may return once the ring sits securely upon your finger.”

When he reached to fill her cup, she quickly
covered it with her hand. “I don’t drink wine, or ale. Water will
do.”

He turned the carafe to his own cup and
filled it. She watched him like a doe watches humans—with a great
deal of caution—as he drank the wine. Reluctantly, Eleanor picked
at her food. He noticed her watching him from the corner of her eye
as he drank. It occurred to him what she feared.

Compelled to ease her fears, he faced her. “I
don’t drink to excess, Eleanor. I believe a man who does cannot be
trusted.” He saluted her with his cup and took a short draw on it
then set it back on the table, hoping to relieve her fears. “I
won’t drink any more this evening.”

Wordlessly, she went
back to eating, but the stiffness in her spine relaxed slightly,
and she attacked her pheasant with new vigor. This pleased him. It
was one step toward winning her over.

A
fter some time her
stomach was pleasantly full, but Eleanor couldn’t resist the
pastries.

As she bit into one, Dominick leaned close
and whispered, “Your things have been moved to the master’s
chamber.”

She dropped her food and reached for her cup
of water to try to wash down her fear. It resisted her
attempts.

When she thought it was safe to speak without
choking, she said, “We are married in name only.”

“We are married, Eleanor.” He rose and pulled
her chair out for her. “Come, it’s time we retire for the
evening.”

As much as she wanted to protest, she refused
to appear cowardly. Her people needed reassurance that all would be
well. Stiffly she accepted his arm. Her steps felt rigid and slow,
as if she were going to her own execution. Her mind whirled, trying
to find a way out of her dilemma. She could charge ahead and bolt
the door behind her. But she had vowed not to show the warrior her
fear and dismissed the idea.

As they approached the chamber door, her legs
seemed to bend with each step, like willow branches, and her skin
grew cold and clammy.

Dominick towered over her as he pushed the
door open. A large fire burned in the hearth, illuminating the room
and the floors had been swept and scrubbed. All her father’s
possessions had been removed, transforming the room from his to
Dominick’s. An enormous oak bed stood against the far wall to
accommodate Dominick’s great size, the headboard nearly as tall as
she and carved with a simple design void of any ornamentation. Fine
Egyptian silk sheets had been placed on a down mattress and covered
with soft furs.

Dominick moved to the hearth to stare into
the flames. For the first time that night she was able to look at
her husband without her distorted perception. He was certainly the
tallest man she’d ever seen, but not the ten-foot giant he had
seemed to be in the meadow. His fine garments expressed wealth and
status. Rich black leather boots adorned with silver buckles laced
up to his knees. He wore deerskin britches and a tunic of the
whitest wool she’d ever seen. It accentuated his raven hair.

Caught up in her observations, she jumped at
the sound of her name.

“Eleanor,” he said softly, still staring into
the fire. “I have never taken a woman against her will. And even
though we are married, I will not take you until you’re ready.”

She couldn’t grasp his words, and her
confusion must have shown on her face, because he drew his sword
and laid it in the center of the bed.

“This sword,” he said with conviction, “will
remain here between us until you’re ready for me. And only by your
hand will it be removed.”

“Is this some game you play?”

“No, it’s no game.”