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Authors: Jody Hedlund

BOOK: A Daring Sacrifice
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“Thank you, William. Much better than when I arrived, no doubt.”

He stumbled again. And I could only pray he was truly as dependable as Collin said.

I glided along, the soft strands of music from the ball already wafting into the far regions of the castle. I found myself anticipating the dance. Even though it had been years since I'd attended an event such as this, I was sure my feet would easily fall into the rhythm of the many dance steps I'd learned in the past.

When I arrived at the doorway of the Great Hall, my heart swelled with the music and my eyes feasted upon the couples who were already swirling. The trestle tables had been pushed against the walls to make more room for the guests. The rush mats had been strewn with fresh herbs, which now rose to perfume the air under the crushing feet of the dancers. And the wall sconces and large hearth fire lit the room, making the jewels that studded the garments of the noblemen and ladies sparkle.

As if he'd been watching for my appearance, Collin stopped mid-sentence while conversing with a group of guests, including Lady Irene. He excused himself and crossed toward me, his face alight with admiration.

“I've been waiting to see you,” he said when he stood before me. His gaze caressed my cheeks, my nose, and then my lips.

Heat flared in my stomach. Was he remembering our moment in the tower?

When his eyes lifted to mine, the hue was dark, almost pine green. Everything within the depths proclaimed his memory of our kiss and his wish to do so again.

I pressed my hand against the satiny fabric at my stomach, warding off the strange fluttering. “You only saw me two hours ago. Surely you aren't anxious to see me again so soon.” We'd spent most of the afternoon dividing up the goods William had
purchased to give to the neediest families within the Goodrich lands. Collin had suggested making bundles and packaging one for each family, consisting of food, blankets, wool cloth for sewing into garments, and an assortment of other items. At first, I'd suspected Collin was suggesting the charity to impress me. But as the afternoon progressed, I could sense a genuine desire in him to understand what my life as a peasant was like and to help those less fortunate.

“Every minute away from you is too long,” he said. “But it's been worth the wait, because you're the most beautiful woman here.”

“You say that every time I see you,” I teased, hoping to lighten the moment and make us both forget about the attraction that was growing with each passing day.

“I only ever tell the truth, my lady.”

I was relieved when he grinned and held out his arm.

“Ah, Lady Eleanora.” Lady Irene crossed toward us. “You look very nice this evening. Purple is a becoming color on you. It goes so well with your red hair.”

Something in the way Lady Irene said the word
red
made me flinch inwardly. Was she mocking my hair color as Collin had childishly done so long ago? Or was there something more going on?

“You look very nice this evening too, Lady Irene.” I eyed her silky blue gown. “ 'Twould appear that blue is a good color for you, since it goes so well with your
yellow
hair.”

Lady Irene's brow shot up at the comment. She hadn't been overly friendly with me that week. She'd clearly not approved of the gift bundles Collin was orchestrating, and I suspected she thought I was encouraging him in the endeavor—which, indirectly, I was.

But I only smiled with what I hoped conveyed innocence.

Collin chuckled. “I must warn you, Irene. Never say anything about Lady Eleanora's hair color, unless you wish to find yourself with a new enemy.”

Lady Irene managed a strained half smile. “Since you're finally here, Lady Eleanora, why don't I take you around and introduce you to some of our newly arrived guests.” She slipped her arm into mine as if we were sisters and tugged me away from Collin.

As we stepped forward, the crowd parted—and that was when I saw them. I froze, suddenly paralyzed. My heart stopped. And my breath caught.

There, only a dozen feet away, stood a tall, older man without one strand of gray in his raven-black hair. His noble face was pockmarked, almost scaly—ravaged from a childhood illness. And he was attired in the pristine white tunic and breeches he'd always worn.

It was none other than my uncle.

Standing next to him was Edgar, his face a much more handsome version of Uncle's. He was laughing at something one of his companions said, but when his gaze alighted upon Lady Irene, his smile smoothed into one more calculated and clever.

I wrenched away from Lady Irene and spun. My heartbeat slapped against my ribs like the rapid flapping of hawk wings. I had to get away. Now. Before they recognized me.

“Lady Eleanora?” Lady Irene reached for my arm. “Whatever is the matter? Are you ill?”

I couldn't respond. Bile swirled in my stomach, and for an instant I thought I'd be able to honestly answer Lady Irene that, yes, I was indeed going to be sick to my stomach.

At the sight of my face, Collin's mouth creased into a frown. When he peered in the direction of Uncle and Edgar, his brow dropped into a sharp scowl. He grabbed my arm and began to steer me toward the door.

Lady Irene hastened after us. “Lady Eleanora, you look like you've seen a ghost.”

“I told you not to invite George Wessex and his son,” Collin shot at his sister over his shoulder. “In fact, if I remember correctly, I strictly forbade it.”

I stumbled next to Collin, my pulse pounding with the frantic need to escape from the room before Edgar or my uncle spotted me. I wasn't afraid, was I? Hadn't I told Collin I never feared anything?

But dressed as a woman, attired in finery and with only my hunting knife buried beneath my skirt, a reminiscent twinge of panic rushed through me—the same kind of fear I'd had that day so long ago, when Uncle had ridden into the inner bailey of Wessex Castle, unsheathed his sword, and ordered my father to leave.

Irene followed us out the door and into the hallway. “I don't understand why you're suddenly opposed to having Lord Wessex and his son attend our parties. Haven't I made it quite clear to you that I favor Edgar for a match? That he's one of the few noblemen who presents a worthy option for my dowry?”

“You disobeyed me, Irene.” Collin's voice was sharp and his face taut with anger. “I told you not to invite them, and you did so anyway.”

“I didn't think it would make any difference,” Irene offered in a placating tone, as if she realized she'd pushed her brother too far. “I didn't know their presence would disturb Lady Eleanora so much. In fact, I didn't realize she even knew them.”

“You don't have to understand everything. But I still expect that while you live in my home, you'll follow my instructions.”

Lady Irene's eyes narrowed. “Edgar is almost my betrothed.”

“Not anymore.”

“You cannot decide for me—”

“I have every right to decide.” Collin's voice was low and threatening. “It's my job to protect you.”

Lady Irene lifted her chin.

Collin turned to me and his features softened. “Will you be all right?”

I took a deep breath and tried desperately to bring myself under control. “I shall be well enough once I have a breath of air.” All I wanted to do was get away from the Great Hall, away from Lord Wessex and Sir Edgar and any chances that they might recognize me.

The rational part of me knew I had nothing to worry about. It had been years since they'd seen me. Nevertheless, I felt oddly bare. My fingers clenched with the need for my bow and arrows. After the cruelty I'd witnessed from my uncle and cousin, I wouldn't dare stand in the same room as them without the means to protect myself.

I
WAS TEMPTED TO TELL MY GUARDS TO ESCORT
G
EORGE
Wessex and his son off my land. I sorely wanted to tell the black-hearted thieves to leave and never come back—after I gave them both the beating they deserved.

But I couldn't do so without arousing suspicion. Already, Juliana's strange behavior and subsequent absence had caused enough gossip among the guests. I'd forced myself to stay through dinner and several dances so that I wouldn't bring further attention to her. Even though my muscles had ached with the need to grab Lord Wessex around the throat every time the man had spoken, I'd feigned politeness.

Like the other guests, Lord Wessex had inquired after “Lady Eleanora.” But thankfully he'd rapidly lost interest in her, and instead had focused all of his attention on Irene and
Edgar. He kept laying hints about how much they liked one another and what a lovely match they'd make. I wanted to tell him I'd never in this lifetime or the next give Edgar permission to marry Irene. But I decided that I'd save that conversation for another evening.

After I'd stayed as long as I could possibly endure, I'd slipped out the back door of the Great Hall.

“Collin, wait.” Irene rushed after me with a soundless tread.

I stopped, trying to squelch my irritation. “Yes?”

Her cheeks were flushed a pretty color of pink. She truly looked lovely that evening. I knew I should compliment her and reassure her about her future, as she was clearly worried about it. Since I'd been home, I hadn't taken the time to look after her well-being as I should. Silently, I promised myself that I would once matters were settled with Juliana.

She looked up with the vulnerable, sweet eyes of the girl I'd known so long ago. “Please, won't you at least speak with Lord Wessex about a potential match?”

“Absolutely not.” The words were out before I could temper my emotion. “I give you my word that I shall find a suitable match for you soon. But I won't consider any union with that snake.”

The sweetness vanished from her expression, replaced by hard, chiseled anger. “I don't understand why you're so against him. You hardly know him.”

“I know what Wessex did to his brother and niece.”

“His brother was senile. And he wasn't the rightful heir anyway.”

“Those are just lies.”

“And how would you know?”

I bit back a rush of words that surely would have given away Juliana. As much as I longed to defend the rightful heir to Wessex, I knew I had to pretend to be more ignorant than
I was. “It doesn't matter, Irene. I've already told you once, I won't consider a union with Edgar Wessex. Please resign yourself to my decision.”

She stiffened and clenched her fists at her side. “How dare you come home after all this time and think you know what's best for me. Perhaps you can sweep into Goodrich and take away all of the finances and ruin Father's fortune with your carelessness. But you can't ruin my life too. I won't let you.”

I sighed with frustration. I didn't have time right now to have this conversation. I was too anxious to see how Juliana was faring. “I'm sorry, Irene. You may not understand my decision now, but someday you'll thank me.” I turned away from her and started up the spiraling steps of the tower that led to the upper floors of the castle.

“I won't thank you, Collin,” she called after me. “I wish you'd never come home.”

I blocked out Irene's frustrated comment as I raced up the stairway. The dark shadows of the passageway taunted me. The coolness of the night air blew in through the narrow arrow slits positioned in the tower walls.

What had I been thinking to invite Juliana to stay at my castle? Had I really believed she'd be able to hide her identity from everyone? Had I only put her in more danger?

My gut tightened.

Upon hearing Juliana's story the previous evening, I'd had thoughts of rallying my small army and charging over to Wessex right away, storming the castle and enacting justice. But after a sleepless night, I'd instead written a missive to the Duke of Rivenshire and sent it with one of my fastest riders. Surely my wise advisor would be able to give me direction on how to proceed. Once I heard back from him and had assurance of his help, perhaps then I could reveal everything to Irene. Until that point, I'd have to live with her anger.

I was breathing heavily by the time I reached the door that led to Juliana's chamber. I sucked in a breath in an attempt to calm my racing pulse, and then I rapped on the door.

After a long moment of silence, I knocked again, this time louder.

Still, there was no answer.

I cocked my ear, straining to hear, praying Juliana was merely asleep.

“Juliana?” I cracked the door open and peeked in. The dim light of the sconces revealed an empty room. Mistress Higgins, assuming she would have the evening free, was likely dining on leftovers with the other servants in the kitchen.

But where was Juliana?

I pushed the door wider and stepped in. I scoured the room until my gaze alighted upon a purple gown discarded upon the floor in front of the open doors of the wardrobe.

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