The Knight and the Dove (51 page)

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Authors: Lori Wick

Tags: #Knights and Knighthood, #Christian, #Historical Fiction, #1509-1547, #General, #Romance, #Great Britain - History - Henry VIII, #Great Britain, #Christian Fiction, #Historical, #Fiction, #Religious, #Love Stories

BOOK: The Knight and the Dove
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M
EGAN PACED THE CONFINES OF HER SALON
and tried to be calm. She had confessed her foolhardiness to God the Father, but she had yet to speak with her husband. She knew he was aware of her presence because she had seen Arik talking to him, but he had not yet chosen to make an appearance.

When she finally heard his door, she froze in her place and waited for him to appear. Megan’s heart sank at the sight of him. She had been home and cleaned up for over two hours, but he was still furious.

“I’m sorry, Bracken,” Megan said softly when he stopped in the doorway, but he did little more than glare at her.

“It was unwise of me,” she continued. “I was worried for you, and I simply did not think. I have dressed that way many times before, and I knew there was no better way to gain information.”

It was the worst thing she could have said. Bracken was suddenly swept backward to the agonizing time he had rushed to find her before the marriage. On the way to Stone Lake they had talked with Elias the peddler, only to be told that they’d given an old beggar woman a ride and had certainly not seen Lady Megan. To think that she had dressed that way twice made Bracken more angry than ever.

“How you could do such a thing in your condition is beyond me,” he said between gritted teeth. “I am so angry right now that I can’t even bear to look at you.”

Bracken turned away before Megan could make a sound. She didn’t know when she’d been so crushed. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her face. She knew well that she had done wrong, but if he could just find it in his heart to forgive her, Megan would press on to do better. As
it was, Megan didn’t want to press on at all. She sank into the nearest chair and sobbed, her heart feeling like was it going to break in two.

 

Two days later Bracken had still not spoken a word to her. He took his meals in the war room and avoided Megan at all costs. Her hurt and humiliation were beyond description, but she didn’t know what to do. At one time Bracken had told her to grow up. If Megan had thought it would do any good, she would have searched him out and said those exact words to him.

He was acting like a child in a tantrum, but telling him such a thing was impossible for more than one reason. He seemed determined not to let her near him. He ate alone and was always gone from his bed long before Megan rose. If Megan started toward him in the keep, he would turn away. It shamed Megan to be ignored, so she stopped trying. His men seemed just as vexed with her as he, and Megan was beginning to feel desperate. She finally approached Arik, her heart in her eyes.

“Arik, I feel a need to see the meadow. Will you go with me?”

He nodded without hesitation, and the odd couple made their way out the gate. Arik was very soothing company. He said nothing, and Megan was left alone with her thoughts as she walked among the beautiful wildflowers.

“For a man so concerned about his baby,” she said to God, “he seems to have completely forgotten I am even with child. I have told him I am sorry, Lord, and now I know not what else to do. It was wrong of me, and I know that sin has its consequences, but this is too much. It is his anger and pride that stand in the way of our reconciliation.

“His anger makes me feel lonely and cold inside. If this continues, I feel I would do better at Stone Lake, but I don’t wish to leave. What will I do if he never forgives me?”

The thought made tears pour down Megan’s face. With her back to her protector, she cried for several minutes. She was still deep in her misery when Arik’s voice surprised her.

“Rise, Lady Megan.”

Megan started violently and then followed Arik’s gaze to see men approaching. She did not know them, and they were dressed in rags, so
she swiftly did as Arik bid. Megan dashed the back of her hand across her eyes and spoke with only a slight sniffle in her voice.

“We have no coin to give you. If you have something to sell, you’ll have to go up to the castle.”

They didn’t seem to hear her. They came in closer...not speaking, and acting oddly. Arik stepped partially in front of Megan, and the young duchess’ brow rose when the men were not deterred. Most men were petrified of Arik. It was at that instant that Megan noticed others coming in from behind them.

“Arik?” she said fearfully. The big man drew his knife. Upon seeing it, Megan’s heart suddenly rocketed with panic. She was too terrified to even scream, but Arik grabbed her arm and moved Megan so none could advance from the rear. The men came in closer, and Megan saw that more approached from the woods, seemingly dozens of them.

Had Arik been alone, he would have stood and fought, but his only concern was Megan. He turned and began to run, nearly dragging her with him, but the men were soon on top of him. He sent Megan on with a hoarse shout to run and a shove that nearly sent her to the ground. But Megan had gained only 50 yards when some of the men caught her. She fought as well, but there were too many.

Seeing Megan with men surrounding her gave Arik renewed strength, and the dozen men attacking him with clubs flew everywhere as he dislodged their relatively small bodies in order to get to her. Megan was still struggling herself, and just as Arik gained his freedom, she watched a tall man come up behind him with a huge cudgel.

Megan found her voice now in a full scream as the club hit Arik alongside the head, not once but twice. Watching in horror as the big man’s legs buckled, Megan screamed again. A hand was clamped over her mouth, and an angry countenance suddenly appeared in her face. Megan stared in terror at Roland Kirkpatrick’s furious eyes just before a cloak was thrown over her head.

 

The horseback ride was the longest of Megan’s life. The cloak had been removed, but a cloth had been tied tightly across her eyes, completely blinding her. Her hands were bound in front of her, and she had long since lost the feeling in her fingers.

Just when Megan had lost all track of time and direction, her horse stumbled and she fell. Her numb hands grabbed desperately for some hold, but found none. Megan fell hard onto her shoulder, much as she had months before while riding in the processional from Stone Lake. However, this time Bracken was not there to take her atop Warrior.

Rough hands lifted her and tossed her back onto her horse, but they let go before she had her balance. Blinded, and with numbed fingers, Megan could find no hold, and she was knocked unconscious when she fell off the other side and landed on her head. She awoke, feeling quite ill, to the sound of angry voices.

“She’s no use to us dead!”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Be more careful, you fool!”

Megan recognized Roland Kirkpatrick’s voice, but for all the anger, Megan was lifted gently.

“Now hand her to me,” Roland ordered, and Megan felt the jostle of arms as she was settled across his saddle. The horse had no more moved when Megan felt a hot rush that made her heart sink with dread. The need to relieve herself was almost unbearable, but it was not the same. Megan knew she was losing her baby.

“Oh, Father, please, no,” Megan whispered tearfully.

Roland naturally misunderstood her. “If you do as you’re told, you have nothing to fear. Just sit quiet now; we’ll be there soon.”

Megan tried to stem her tears, but they seeped out anyway. It was all her fault. She had gone to the village and caused Bracken’s anger, which had put her in the meadow. It was too late for regrets, but Megan felt them nonetheless.

 

“It’s not time yet,” Roland tried to reason with her.

“I want her dead, do you hear me, Roland! Dead! If you won’t do it, I’ll see to it myself!”

Megan listened with dread to the sound of her sister’s voice. It never once occurred to her that Marigold was behind all of this, but when she could make her mind concentrate, it made perfect sense.

How foolish she had been. She had heard Roland’s men talking.
All the intrigue surrounding Bracken and Roland was really over her. Had Bracken known this? Is that why he’d been so furious? Megan pushed regret aside. She had apologized to Bracken, but he had rejected her. She had tried to bridge the gap between them, but he had been unwilling. At some point she had to stop thrashing herself for the sins of the past.

It looks as if they plan my death. Perhaps this is what it’s going to take,
she prayed in her heart.
Bracken will surely be in pain over my loss, and perhaps this will bring him to You, Father God.

Megan was warmed by the thought. It helped, since she felt with a certainty that her baby was gone. It also helped to lay still. In the six days she’d been in this rundown castle, there had been much blood and no one to help her in any way.

Marigold and Roland’s voices were fading now. Megan wasn’t certain if they were moving away from her door or if she was falling back to sleep. They had fed her and given her water, but she was still so weak. Megan was still wondering why that would be when she drifted off once again.

 

“A week, Lyndon. My wife has been gone a week, and I am no closer to finding her.”

This was very true. With Lyndon always at his side, Bracken had followed the trail of Megan’s abductor, but it had led nowhere. From there they had searched and questioned everyone within miles. There were still no leads. Now the two men stood in the war room. Lyndon, nearly as torn up over Megan’s loss as Bracken, said, “We will find her, Bracken. I know this. I feel it.”

The duke turned tortured eyes to his friend. “What have they done to her?”

“Don’t think about it, Bracken; it will distract you. Just concentrate on finding a way.”

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