TheKingsLady (7 page)

With every step closer, Gwen’s instincts to run the other way grew stronger. Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she put one foot in front of the other, knowing beyond any doubt she was making a life-altering mistake. What form it would take she hadn’t a clue, she only knew that Arthur was smack-dab in the middle of it.

Chapter Six

She should have run while she had the chance.

Worrying her bottom lip, she let her gaze sweep over the large room where a massive wooden table sat. High arched windows showed a picture-perfect landscape of the cliffs and below it, the Pacific Ocean. Sparkling liquid silver in the moonlight, the waves undulated against a starry sky.

Pulling her attention back to the here and now, she noted the room only boasted of two doors. One she just entered with Andrea and the other sat on the opposite side of the room. The way to the kitchen and from there a door leading to outside? She really needed to find the way out of here because, yep, as soon as she found an opening she was gone.

Muffled sounds of pots clattering hung in the oppressive silence. All eyes centered on her. Boy didn’t that make her feel special. Especially since most of the stares were downright hostile.

What the hell? What did she do to garner so much animosity?

The smell of food filled the air, twisting her insides as nausea clawed its way up her throat. No way could she eat.

She would have tuned and fled the way she came, but at that moment, Arthur moved to her side, effectively thwarting her escape. She was quick to note he kept quite a bit of space between them as if he loathed to brush up against her. Well, that suited her just fine.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

His deep baritone did a wicked slide over her skin, making her think of hot southern nights filled with even hotter sex. Damn the man. Steeling her resolve, she cast him a wide-eyed look of innocence. “What, and miss all of this?” she waved her hand in the air to encompass the room, her tone thick with derision.

“Have a care, Miss Gwen, I have little patience for waspish females.”

“Then let me go and you won’t have to suffer my
waspishness.”

“What part of no don’t you understand?”

Her eyes narrowed on him, anger making her pulse pound in her temples. Giving him her back, she turned her attention to the room. She recognized several of the men who busted into her home with the intent to save her, along with the bitch on wheels named Merci looking tough as nails as she gave her a challenging glare. Juliet moved up alongside Andrea, her smile welcoming as she maneuvered her away from Arthur and further into the room.

“Come let me introduce you around. Don’t be concerned about their gruffness, they are a bit protective of Arthur. Gave me a hard time the first time I met them, too.” Juliet confessed in a conspiratory whisper as she took hold of her arm and led her to two men standing off by themselves. “This is Simon and the one with all that glorious hair is Darius.”

Gwen craned her neck to look up at the wall of solid muscle and found herself caught in a pair of cold ice-blue eyes framed by jet-black hair. She wondered if being gorgeous was a prerequisite to working for Arthur because if so, she landed in every woman’s fantasy. The one named Darius stood a few inches shorter, but just as beautiful. Dark eyes held a gleam of speculation. His long dark-brown hair was pulled back from a face of an angel and yet nothing stirred in her as she looked at them.

Juliet continued leading her through the men and women, some she already had the misfortune to meet. Merci the ball busting bitch just raised an eyebrow, a smug smile playing over her lips as she stood near her husband Drake. Next Andrea introduced her husband Neil with his military buzz cut and deep navy blue eyes. The smile he gave didn’t come close to thawing the coolness in his gaze.

Gwen found herself being pulled toward a beautiful woman with white-blonde hair tumbling down to her waist. A long sheath dress the color of liquid gold hugged every curve. Gwen decided she could be a goddess from mythology standing as cold as a marble sculpture before her. The man at her side a perfect counterpoint to her fairness with his dark sultry looks. Still, her knees never once wobbled and no butterflies flittered in her stomach.

“This is Viviane and Lancelot,” Juliet’s voice only wavered slightly as the tension ratcheted up in the room.

Gwen giggled in the still room and wanted to kick her own ass. When she got nervous, she laughed, so not the thing to do. Drawing a deep breath of air, she controlled the impulse. “I’m sorry it’s just…well, Vivian and Lancelot? Really? Like the Arthurian legends of Merlin and the Lady of the Lake.”

The room grew cold as the silence thickened and pulled her nerves taut. Her eyes grew large as she studied the group around her. What kind of crazy people did she get mixed up with? “Look I get it and hey, live and let live is my motto. I’ll just leave you guys to your dinner. I’m not that hungry anyway.”

“You’re right, she has no idea.” Viviane shook her head in disgust. “She has been living her life happily clueless of who she is and what she wrought with her actions.”

Gwen frowned at the faces surrounding her. Animosity shifted into gear and revved up a notch higher. Wow, they
really
didn’t like her. She could deal with that. What she couldn’t deal with is why? She knew she never saw any of them before so there could be no way she offended any of them in the past.

She started backing toward the door, ready to turn and take a chance at freedom. Unfortunately, at the same moment Vivian sprang forward, her fingers clamped down on her upper arm like a steel vise, effectively thwarting her escape.

“Let me go,” Gwen demanded, fear spiking her pulse rate as her magic surged through her, making her skin tingle.

The petite woman moved in close, her eyes crackling with blue fire. “I think the time has come to remember what was lost, the consequences of your actions. You of all those who stand in this room should not be allowed such an easy out. Yes, it is time to remember.”

Before Gwen could pull away, the woman placed her other hand on her forehead and power shot through her skull. Blinding white agony splintered her, tearing her brain into tiny pieces. She may have screamed, voices and shouts came to her, but the words made no sense. Only the searing pain remained a constant. She was dying, knew it on a bone-deep level. Her thoughts dimmed as black spots swam before her eyes, swallowing her world as she fell into the beckoning darkness.

* * * *

The room exploded to life as Gwen dropped to the floor like a stone, curled in a fetal position, her body shaking uncontrollably. Small moans escaped her clenched teeth.

Arthur reached her first and glared his outrage at Viviane. “What the hell did you do, Viv?”

She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I gave her back all the memories that were blocked.”

“Remind me not to piss you off.” Darius shook his head, a new wariness shining in his dark eyes.

“I believe this is called over dead.” Lancelot frowned.

“That’s overkill, dude.” Simon chuckled.

“Well, I for one must admit it makes things easier if she knows who she is.” Merci sighed.

“Yes, but it should have been done slowly, in stages. I have never seen you act so viciously, Viviane.” Drake frowned, his displeasure tangible by the tenseness of his posture.

“Look, it would hurt no matter what way it happened. You don’t pull off a band-aid in gradual stages. Besides, she deserves a bit of discomfort for what she put you all through with her betrayal.”

“Viviane, that was in the past. This is now, and I for one think she deserves a chance. No one should be condemned for something that happened lifetimes ago,” Juliet defended.

“Well, it’s done now and when she wakes up she will have all the memories that her aunt effectively blocked.” Viviane dismissed the unconscious woman on the floor.

Arthur pulled Gwen into his arms and lifted her to settle against his chest. With a sigh she stilled, her face nestled into his chest. “I’m taking her to her room. Someone should be with her when she awakes. It will be rough as the memories bombard her and no telling how well she will assimilate all the memories when they come at her all at once.”

“I’ll sit with her,” Andrea chimed in.

“I’ll take over the next shift,” Juliet added, giving her husband a challenging glare.

Colin raised his hands in surrender and a soft smile curved her lips.

Merci chimed in reluctantly, “Shit, I guess I’ll also sit with her, but I know she won’t be happy to see me if she wakes to find me there.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “What the hell, perhaps it’s time we all bury the hatchet.”

Drake bent and brushed his lips softly over hers. “That’s why I love you so, my little spitfire. You don’t carry a grudge.”

“Not too long at least.” She chuckled, her voice husky as she gazed at Drake tenderly the deeper meaning of her words for only him to understand.

Arthur’s strident tone cracked in the room like a whip. “I will be the one to take care of her.” He knew he sounded possessive, and at the moment he really couldn’t care less.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Drake ventured.

Arthur pinned him with a fierce glare. “I promised she would be safe here, that has been compromised. We need to keep her out of Vance’s hands.”

“I’m the one who did this to her, so I should be the one to help her through the memories when she awakes.” Viviane stepped forward. “The least amount of contact between the two of you the better.”

He shook his head, his jaw tensing with irritation. “Too late for that, Viviane.” The accusation hit with the force of a screaming banshee. “It’s my problem. She’s
my
responsibility, no one else’s.”

He turned away from Viviane’s stunned, hurt expression and strode through the door with Gwen curled up in his arms and never looked back.

Chapter Seven

Memories crashed over her with brutal force, threatening to crush her with the pressure of too much too soon. No gentle easing came as they tore through her, forcing her to relieve what was best forgotten.

“You are to marry.”

The words filled her with both unease and excitement. “And who is this man I am to become a wife to, my lord?” Relieved to note the steadiness in her words, Guinevere held still, praying for only one name to fall from her father’s, Leodengrace’s, lips.

“Arthur wishes for your hand, and I have given it,” her father announced with a wave of his hand. “Start preparations at once for you ride to Camelot in a fortnight.”

Fog swirled obscuring everything in a shimmering grey void. Gwen wondered if this was death. Had Viviane struck her down for some indecipherable reason? Lost within the grey mass, she hesitated. Should she go forward, back, left or right? Which way did she go to escape, or was there any escape to be had? Suddenly, a bright beam of light punched through the mist, and she fell into it.

The sharp scent of tallow clung in the chilled air. Rocks roughly hewn formed walls adorned with bright, colorful tapestries. Eyes as blue as a summer sky stared at her. Arthur Pendragon took her hand and raised it to his full sensuous lips.

“Welcome to Camelot, Lady Guinevere.”

“My father sends his greetings along with a thousand men and a most peculiar table. He ruled wisely for many years seated around it and trusts you will do the same.”

“The King of Camerlerd already has given me the most precious of possessions.” One golden eyebrow rose as he gave her a pointed look.

Heat flushed her face even as she held his gaze. She had loved him from the first time she saw him riding with his knights. His long golden hair flying behind him, Excalibur held high, ready to aid her father against his enemies who sought to take his kingdom.

“You seek to beguile one who is already under your spell.” Her breathless response brought a smile to Arthur, softening his features and giving him a boyish charm.

“Ah, you are mistaken in that, my lady, for you had my heart the first time I spied you on the battlements with sword in hand ready for battle.”

He brought her closer to him, his heat and his scent of leather and woods surrounded her in an intimate embrace.

Arthur was torn from her and scenes played out before her
,
filled with loneliness and despair. Waiting, always waiting for the man she fell in love with to know she existed. Then came Lancelot, who saw her value and between them destroyed Arthur and Camelot with their betrayal.

“Did you lay with Lancelot Du Lac?”

“Yes, to my shame I did.”

“You give me no choice, woman, but to be the instrument of your death. Why after all these years did you turn from me?” Arthur’s voice, thick with grief and rage, demanded.

It stabbed through her heart, shredding her soul into pieces, which would never mend. Yet, she spoke honestly, not hiding behind false words, even to save her life. “It was you who turned from me, my lord. So many years of neglect, not even a kind word.” The bitter words left a dry acerbic taste in her mouth. “I died for you many years ago. What you see before you is just a shadow of what used to be. At least with Lancelot I was…precious.”