A Daring Sacrifice (11 page)

A
THOUSAND CANDLES LIT THE GARDEN, MAKING THE
flower-filled crystal centerpieces sparkle. The small braziers placed among the tables were glowing red, providing heat for the guests who milled about the glittering party.

I'd wasted no expense on the garden dinner. The tables were spread with the richest of fare, and golden goblets along with the best silver I owned. I'd provided fur cloaks for my guests of the finest ermine and mink. I also had arranged for minstrels to play from a boat on the nearby pond among a hundred floating lanterns.

So far, it was my grandest party, even more elaborate than the one I'd planned for Lady Rosemarie when I'd been trying to win her heart. I surveyed the garden with a satisfied smile.

Maybe I hadn't been able to impress Juliana yet. But tonight's festivities would surely show her all she was missing with her self-imposed exile into the forest. And maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to convince her to give up her dangerous, thieving ways.

That's what I wanted, wasn't it?

I supposed from the moment I'd learned of her true identity, I'd decided she needed saving—saving from the reckless course of life she'd chosen. It was past time for her to take
her rightful place again among the nobility and live the life to which she'd been born.

The fur trim of my velvet cloak brushed against my chin, reminding me of the softness of Juliana's hair. I told myself I wasn't attracted to her, that I hadn't gone to all the trouble of the party simply for her.

But when she finally stepped through the arched trellis into the spacious garden, my chest tightened with something akin to awe. Mistress Higgins had left Juliana's hair long and flowing, with a simple twist pulling it slightly back at her forehead. Though it was covered with a silky veil, I could still see it fell in curly waves down a striking black velvet cloak that highlighted the pale pink gown beneath.

How was it possible that every time I saw her, she grew more beautiful?

One of the noblemen next to me slapped my back with a laugh. “I suppose you'll be wanting to give her a few more lessons of a different kind this evening?”

I grinned, not caring that everyone saw me gawking at Juliana. I didn't mind if they believed I'd put my claim on her, because the truth was I didn't want to have to share her attention with anyone else.

I broke away from the teasing of the men and moved toward her. “There you are,” I said, bowing before her. “You look more dazzling than all the candles, stars, and lanterns combined.”

She gave me a shaky smile and smoothed her hand down the fluffy fur edge of her cloak. “This is too much, Collin.”

“Not at all.” I pulled a small box from my pocket and handed it to her. “For you.”

“No more jewels.”

I leaned toward her. “I can't help myself. Besides, I told you that whatever I give you, you get to keep at the week's end.”

She took the box, hesitantly fingering the long, silky ribbon that held it closed. Then she gazed around the garden, her eyes growing wider as she took in the candelabras on each table, the mounds of delicacies, pastries, and countless other dishes. When her sights alighted upon the boat of minstrels, her brow creased and her lips pressed together.

“What do you think? Isn't it amazing?”

“You won't want to know what I really think.” She pressed the box back toward me and started forward with choppy steps.

I reached for her arm so she couldn't escape. “You can tell me, sweetheart. I can handle the praise. I promise I won't let it go to my head.”

She rolled her eyes. “I certainly won't be singing your praises, Lord Collin.”

I pulled her to a halt away from the others so that we could talk without being heard. “I did all this for you. I thought you'd like it.”

“If you thought I'd like this, then you don't know me at all.”

A thin needle of hurt pricked me. “But . . .” I glanced around the lit garden. The glow from the fires and candles made it romantic. How could she not like it all?

She glared up at me.

“I'm sorry,” I said, overcome with melancholy. After all the things she'd already said, I should have known she wouldn't like the display of wealth. Why hadn't I figured that out sooner? I could have planned something simpler.

“It seems like I just can't succeed when it comes to you. Everything I've done to earn your pleasure has been a complete failure so far.”

She studied my face, and the lines in her forehead smoothed and her eyes softened. “Not a
complete
failure.”

Something in her expression and tone sparked renewed hope inside me.

“I enjoyed praying with you in the chapel yesterday,” she said, dropping her gaze almost as if her admission embarrassed her. “It's been a long time since I've been able to pray in a house of worship and partake of the Eucharist.”

Although I prayed daily, I had to admit I'd relished the experience with her as well.

“And I enjoyed watching you receive your people today in the hall,” she continued. “You listened carefully and dispensed justice and mercy wisely.”

The hope rapidly fanned into a flame. Maybe I was proving I wasn't so despicable after all.

“I'm happy with simple things. But this …” She lifted her head and waved at the tables and then toward the pond. “This is too much, Collin.”

“So experiencing a taste of nobility doesn't make you wish you could return to this lifestyle?”

She shook her head slowly, sadly. “No. Never.”

I sighed. “Then you're set on returning to your noble-thieving ways no matter what?”

“I'm afraid that even if I wished otherwise, I would have no choice.”

I wanted to ask why. To finally get to the bottom of all that had happened in her past to drive her into the forest. But a group of people brushed near us and we lost our moment of privacy.

Juliana smiled sweetly and played the part of Lady Eleanora Delacroix to perfection. But throughout the evening, my mind kept turning over and over, attempting to find a way to make her change her mind about staying.

For some reason, I desperately hoped there was.

At the soft rap on my chamber door, I moved away from the window. Every night after I extinguished the lights—and after Mistress Higgins fell asleep on her pallet at the foot of my bed—I rose from the plush comfort of my bed, opened the window enough so that I could peer out into the forests that stood beyond the castle, and I reminded myself of my other life, of my friends who were out there sleeping on the hard earth, weary, cold, and hungry. Amidst the opulence, I didn't want to forget for a minute what their lives were like—and what my own would be like again in just two days.

The light knock came once more.

I hastened to the door before the sound could awaken Mistress Higgins. With my hand on the hunting knife I wore at all times, I cracked the door to reveal Collin.

“I finally figured out something you might enjoy,” he whispered through a mischievous grin.

“Unless it involves a fair contest with bows and arrows, then I highly doubt I'll enjoy it,” I countered, opening the door wider.

“Come with me.” He reached for my hand.

“Like this?” I pulled back and glanced down at my nightdress.

He held out a heavy cloak with a fur-trimmed hood. “Cover up with this.”

I hesitated. “I don't know if I should.” It was surely past midnight.

“Don't tell me the Cloaked Bandit is scared,” he teased.

I grabbed the cloak and tossed it around my shoulders. “Of course I'm not scared. I'm never scared.”

“Never?” He grinned like a young page who'd gotten his way. “It's hard to believe you're
never
scared.”

“Well, I'm not.” I moved into the hallway ahead of him. The flickering light of his torch cast menacing shadows onto
the stone walls of the deserted passage. I'd thrown out fear the day I'd found my father's remains in the gutter. I'd let anger drive out the fear, and I'd never allowed it to return.

“I count myself a brave man.” Collin moved into place beside me and led the way. “But even brave people are afraid on occasion. Sometimes fear can protect us from being too foolish or reckless.”

I didn't respond. I had the feeling Bulldog would agree with Collin. My friend had rebuked me many times for being reckless. But I wouldn't tell Collin that. Instead I allowed him to lead me up the spiraling stairway of one of the towers.

When we reached the end of the steps, I found myself climbing atop the highest turret of the castle. The cold night air greeted us. Pulling my cloak tighter, I rushed over to the crenellated wall and peered through one of the gaps over the dark expanse of world that spread out endlessly. The sliver of moon illuminated the landscape enough for my heart to swell with the splendor of the view.

I could feel Collin's presence next to me. “I imagine the view is especially spectacular in the daylight,” I said in quiet awe.

“It is.” He stared out at the land. And for a long moment, we were quiet together, squinting into the darkness at the various shapes of homes and barns beyond the village.

Finally, a gust of the frigid night air slapped against my cheeks and threatened to pull the hood from my head. I couldn't keep from shivering. Collin slid an arm around my waist and drew me into the crook of his arm, against the warmth of his solid frame and his fur cloak.

I didn't resist.

For several more minutes we stood without speaking, peering over the moonlit landscape. The millions of stars overhead spread out to the horizon. I released a long, contented breath
and leaned against Collin. He tightened his hold, but didn't speak, almost as if the moment were too holy for words. A sense of peace stole over me. What
would
it be like to live this way? To stop fighting and to be at peace all the time? To have a husband? And maybe children someday?

I'd never considered the option of marriage. Not when I was a hunted fugitive.

But standing in Collin's strong embrace, I could almost believe that such an opportunity might eventually befall me. That maybe I'd find someone as kind as Collin.

Of course I'd never marry
him
.

I squirmed at the thought, my blood warming and surging into my face.

He loosened his hold and gently spun me around. “I thought you might like a midnight picnic.” There, in the middle of the turret, spread on a thick bear skin, was a tray of fruit, cheese, and tarts along with steaming mugs of hot ale. A small brazier glowed red. And near the door stood Collin's steward, William, who had spilled something on his cloak and was now clumsily mopping at the spot.

“What do you think?” Collin asked, watching my face for my reaction.

I smiled. I could do nothing less. “It looks perfect.”

He tugged me toward the picnic. “Good. I'm relieved you like it. If you didn't, I was going to have to throw myself off the tower to my utter destruction.”

I laughed and allowed him to assist me to the ground. “I'm not completely hardened to the pleasures of life.”

“Or the pleasure of my company?”

“You're tolerable.”

“Only tolerable, my lady?” he asked, lowering himself next to me, laying on his side, and propping himself up on one elbow. His eyes twinkled with mirth.

“I suppose you'll not let me rest until I admit that I like your company?”

“You're getting to know me well.”

The bantering was doing funny things to my stomach, but I was enjoying it too much to stop. “Very well, I'll admit. You're slightly more than tolerable.”

He laughed. “I can see that you're quite adept at paying compliments.”

“Yes, I'm available for flattery any time you need it.” For a while we talked of little things, more about his experience living with the Duke of Rivenshire, of his closest friends Sir Derrick and Sir Bennet, of his recent years fighting battles on the country's borders.

I wasn't sure if it was the warmth of the conversation or of the ale that made a pleasant trail throughout my body, but I found myself comfortable and cozy, especially with the heat emanating from the small fire in the iron grill. Enough so that when Collin finally stopped talking and rolled over onto his back to stare up into the expanse of the sky, I couldn't resist the urge to brush a stray strand of his hair off his forehead.

Once I moved the lock, I pulled back, embarrassment flooding me.

But he scooted closer and laid his head in my lap. He situated himself, crossed his arms over his chest, and breathed out a deep sigh. “Ah, that's much better.”

“So I'm to be your pillow, my lord?” I teased, my fingers twitching with the desire to comb his hair again. I glanced over at William, who sat just inside the tower door with a brazier of his own to warm himself. Although he wasn't directly watching us and couldn't hear our hushed conversation above the wind, I sensed his attention nonetheless.