Love's Call (37 page)

“I said some awful things to Jorrin when King Nathal told us to marry and I found out he’d be named Duke of Greenwald. I also made some assumptions that were very wrong. I know admitting you were wrong is tough, but at least it’s only to Leargan. He won’t say I-told-you-so; he’s not the type. And I’d bet my best gold coins he loves you. I wouldn’t say it, if I didn’t think it was true.”

“Then why didn’t he tell me that night?” Ansley whispered. “I asked him why he wanted to marry me, and he
couldn’t
answer me. He stared, dumbfounded.” Tears spilled, drenching her cheeks. “It…just about killed me. If he loves me…and he’d
told
me, it would’ve fixed everything. Instead, he threatened to take my child from me.”

Cera scooted her chair closer and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Maybe he didn’t know. Sometimes it takes losing something to tell you how badly you need it…” Their eyes met, and Cera wiped the tears from Ansley’s cheeks. “I mean, we
are
talking about a man.” The duchess grinned.

One corner of Ansley’s mouth lifted.

“Oh, look. That was
almost
a smile.” Cera patted her cheek.

Ansley didn’t say anything, but their silence was companionable. She sighed and rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. “When we made love, he told me he needed me. But I need more than his body. I know he’ll love our child. I’m jealous, can you believe it? Leargan will love our baby, but not me.” Shrugging, she blinked away new tears.

Cera’s smile was tender. “Yes, I believe Leargan
will
love your child. But he loves you
already
.”

Chapter Thirty-six

Why hadn’t he remembered just how damn far away Dalunas was?

They’d been gone a whole sevenday.

The further from Greenwald they’d gotten, the further Dalunas had seemed. Leargan could have sworn the roads had moved.

He missed Ansley.

Distance was more torture than reprieve. She might not be speaking to him at Castle Aldern, but at least he could lay eyes on her.

Sleep had been elusive every night they’d stopped. When Leargan had managed to drift off, she haunted his dreams. He’d woken in a cold sweat, his heart pounding, arms empty and aching for her.

Their party entered Dread Valley’s heavily armored gates, passing over two separate draw bridges, a high defense wall, and more than two dozen well-armed guards and marshals.

No one was leaving the place that wasn’t supposed to.

The only satisfaction Leargan had was Tynan Mont shrinking down in the prison cart he rode in, lowering his body so only the top of his head was visible through the iron bars.

Avril’s former husband was lucky to have made it to the penal territory in one piece. He’d run his mouth the entire way. Gagging him hadn’t helped, either.

Roduch’s original desire to kill the man wasn’t a bad idea.

All Leargan’s men, including the normally jovial Merrick, had wanted to pound him into the ground. And Leargan had had to threaten Roduch with shackles and disarmament to keep him in his saddle and away from the little bastard.

Waiting in the office for the Provost—a burly dark-haired man named Malcolm Graham—to read Tynan Mont’s sentencing proclamation was nerve racking.

Leargan was exhausted. His limbs were as heavy as his heart. He wanted to hand Mont over and get out of Dread Valley. The place made his skin crawl. Wanted to seek a bed. The venue didn’t matter as long as the linens were clean and there was a real pillow.

Malcolm Graham read the mile-long parchment twice, his shaggy brow knitting tighter with each word. At King Nathal’s direction, Gamel and Keir had detailed the man’s crimes.

“So your main talent is blackmail? Murder, too.” The man scratched his ebony beard, gaze boring into Tynan Mont’s stooped form. “And you like to torture and rape innocents who are dependent upon you, do you?”

Shoulders caving even further, the sorry excuse for a man lowered his head, his shackles clinking together. Tynan Mont said nothing.

Leargan smirked.

Coward.

Where was the brazen mouth he’d opened freely during their long journey?

The gates of Dread Valley had made Tynan Mont a mute.

“Very well. We have a special hell for trash like you,” Provost Graham said, motioning two of his marshals forward.

Dallon and Merrick shoved Tynan Mont.

He stumbled, falling to his knees before Provost Graham.

The burly man looked down at him, one corner of his mouth lifted.

The marshals each grabbed Mont by an arm and yanked him to his feet. Avril’s former husband yelped, but cut it off quickly. He flinched as the provost’s men jerked him and they started to walk away. If he didn’t move his feet, the shorter man would be dragged.

Roduch harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest as Mont threw one last look over his shoulder at Leargan and his knights. “Funny, he has nothing to say
now
.”

Provost Graham smirked as he stepped forward, eyes darting to Roduch before meeting Leargan’s gaze. “Thank you, Captain Tegran, and thanks to your men and your mage, Sir Lucan, for seeing the prisoner here
safely.
” He bowed, a smile on his bearded face. “We shall take over his
care
.”

“It was our duty,” Leargan said, inclining his head.

“Shall you need lodging for the evening? I can recommend the
Rusty Nail
in Dalunas Main. Funny name, but good food and the prettiest wenches in the Province.”

Leargan swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. He didn’t need a
wench.
He needed Ansley. “Thank you. We’ll consider it.” His voice cracked.

“Mention my name to the innkeeper, Belton Scalar. He’ll give you a good rate and his finest rooms. He’s my brother-by-marriage.”

Their task accomplished, Leargan’s men were rowdy as they mounted up.

Dallon, especially, was grousing about their long journey. He declared fine drink and the arms of a willing woman would fix all his troubles.

Leargan glowered from Fia’s saddle, trying not to think about Ansley as his brothers quipped at each other on the ride into Dalunas Main.

He glanced around the noisy tavern, pushing away the half-eaten bowl of stew. Leargan hadn’t even tasted it anyway. His tired body’s demands for food had made him shove as much sustenance past his lips as he could stand, but he’d stopped as soon as his stomach had ceased growling.

Two pretty lasses, a redhead and a blond, had draped themselves all over him as soon as he’d taken a seat with his men, but he’d dismissed them quickly, ignoring pouty lips and low bodices.

He couldn’t even look at the girl whose locks reminded him of Ansley’s. She’d taken the hint and gone to another table when Merrick, Laith and Roduch also ignored her attentions.

Should he feel better or worse that all three of his brothers were also thinking about women back in Greenwald?

Dallon had snatched the blond barmaid around the waist, and she currently resided on his lap. Alasdair had already retired with a beautiful brunette. Knowing Alas, Leargan’s fellow knight had known of the tavern and the lass long before they’d even set foot in the place.

He’d wasted no time pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on her when they’d walked into the
Rusty Nail.

She’d kissed him back enthusiastically and practically dragged Alas up the stairs that led to the finer rooms.

Lucan was looking around, wide-eyed and pink cheeked at all the bosoms on display. The women in the tavern were indeed pleasing to the eye, just as the provost had said.

Leargan smiled at the lad. Then he thought about Alasdair dragging him into taverns when he was Lucan’s age and cringed. Lucan was a sweet lad. He needed to hold onto his innocence for a while longer—perhaps turns—until he met the girl he wanted to marry. It meant more that way.

Fighting the urge to close his eyes as pain crept up from his gut, Leargan reached for the stein of ale in front of him and chugged. It burned on its way down his throat, but it was already warm and unappetizing. He ached for Ansley.

A feminine laugh took his attention, and he glanced at Dallon and the lass in his arms. The girl’s blond curls were swept up and piled on top of her head. She had big dark brown eyes and not much of a dress on. She stared at Dallon, and he looked right back. They were quite pleased with each other. As the knight had planned, Dallon wouldn’t be sleeping alone—if he’d be sleeping at all.

“Are you sure none of your friends need a good woman tonight?” the lass asked, winking and looking at Laith and Merrick in open appreciation.

The fair-haired brothers were no stranger to wenches in taverns, but neither had shown any interest in any women since they’d left Greenwald.

“Sorry, but I have my Meara back in Greenwald,” Laith said, downing the last of the ale in his mug. He winked and the girl smiled.

“Daicy would part me with something I am rather fond of, if I used it elsewhere.” Merrick grinned, swaying in his chair. The knight’s head was going to ache all the way back to Greenwald with as much as he’d imbibed.

Roduch and Dallon chuckled and Laith rolled his eyes.

Leargan snorted. Seeing how protective Daicy had been of Ansley, there was no doubt that the petite maid would part Merrick from his bollocks if he
used them elsewhere
, as he’d said. She definitely had a temper.

The girl would also probably not wish it public knowledge that she was sleeping with Merrick, but his friend must care for Daicy. Merrick had never been a one woman kind of man. If he wouldn’t touch another lass, it meant something.

Good for them, he wished them happiness—Laith and Meara, too—he just hurt for himself and Ansley.

“What about the little one? Vera, just over there, has a fondness for virgins.” She gestured to a brunette that was currently bending over a young man in an obvious display of her body.

Lucan blushed scarlet and shook his head vigorously.

Dallon’s lass smirked, but no one commented on the young mage’s virtue or his denial.

“Hmm…” The girl looked directly at Leargan, and he swallowed a groan. She sized him up, her gaze moving up and down his face.

Could she not take a hint?

“Your captain is a bit broody, but I’ve a girl in mind,” she said, glancing at Dallon before looking back at Leargan.

“He’s attached, as well,” Dallon said, making eye contact with him.

Pain clenched his gut as Ansley’s face danced into his mind. Leargan tightened his grip on the stein as the girl on his friend’s lap shook her head and gave an over dramatic sigh.

“What about you, big man?” The lass ran her fingertips down Roduch’s chest.

The blond knight shook his head and pushed her hand away.

“Awww,” she pouted, her full lips pulling down. “I was curious to see if you were big all over.” She winked.

Dallon growled, and the girl giggled as he cupped her face and covered her mouth in a kiss that projected possession.

She kissed him back eagerly.

How much of it was for show on her part? Did she want Dallon or his coin?

The lass moaned into the knight’s mouth, and Leargan tore his eyes away.

“
I
am all the man you need,” his friend said.

Lucan shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable, so Leargan threw an arm around the lad’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. The young mage relaxed but averted his gaze from the display.

“Then it is time to show me,” the barmaid told Dallon.

The knight scooped her up and stood. The girl wrapped her arms around his neck, planting another kiss on him. Dallon headed for the stairs, not breaking the lip lock or even pausing as he ascended with her in his arms.

Roduch shook his head. “I hope my room does not back up to his.”

Leargan nodded and leaned back in his chair.

Guess I won’t be bunking with Dallon as planned.

Merrick laughed loudly—too loudly—and downed the last of the ale in his mug before slamming it down on the table.

Laith shot his brother an amused look, but said nothing.

“Laith, why don’t you help your brother find his bed? Lucan, you too. We’re off at dawn, and it’s late,” Leargan said.

As he spoke, the lad yawned and nodded, scrambling to his feet and smiling. “Night Leargan, Sir Roduch,” Lucan said, inclining his head.

“Not a bad idea, Captain. C’mon, brother.” Laith grabbed Merrick’s arm and hauled his older brother to his feet, throwing an arm around his shoulders when Merrick swayed.

“Good night, lads,” Roduch said, giving their brothers and Lucan a wave.

Leargan echoed the sentiment and watched the knights stumble to the stairwell. Lucan stepped forward, slipping his slim arm around Merrick’s waist to assist Laith with his brother.

“He’s a good lad,” Roduch said.

“Aye, he is.”

Their eyes met and silence descended, contradicting the noisy tavern. Leargan had always liked Roduch for his quiescence, but his friend was much too intuitive. Instinct told him what the big knight would say before he spoke.

“I’m sure when we get back things will be righted between you two.”

“I can only hope,” Leargan whispered.

Why did you say that?

He didn’t want to talk about Ansley.

“As I hope things will go well for you and Avril.” He needed the focus off him and the love of his life.

The look his friend gave him shouted Leargan had missed the mark, but Roduch inclined his head. The big knight was nothing if not polite. “Aye, I hope the same.”

“You love her.” Had Leargan lost all control of his mind and his mouth?

Was he a woman?

Love was the
last
thing he wanted to talk about.

“Aye,” Roduch said simply, smile sliding into a grin. It made him look younger, despite the two sevendays’ worth of blond fuzz on his normally clean-shaven face.

“She’s been through so much. It’s going to be a long road,” Leargan said. “But, you’re one of the most patient men I know. You’ll stay by her side and provide what she needs like you do when you train the lads.”

Roduch chuckled. “Love is very different than training youngsters to fight, but thank you, Captain. I appreciate your faith in me.”