A Daring Sacrifice (14 page)

How had she changed out of the tight garment without the help of her lady's maid?

I crossed the room and lifted the gown, noting the sharp cuts in the bodice where she'd obviously hastily freed herself of the confines. A quick assessment of the wardrobe showed all the other gowns left untouched. I shoved them aside to search for her original breeches and tunic, which I'd instructed Mistress Higgins to stow in a back corner.

My fingers probed along the rear walls and then the entire length of the floor.

There was no trace of her garments.

Moving quickly, I jerked open the drawer at the bottom of the wardrobe where she'd stored the gold pouch and jewelry I'd promised her.

The red pouch peered back at me, and the diamond necklace winked.

My shoulders sagged, and I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. She wouldn't have left without taking the gold and jewels. Would she?

A breeze sifted through the open window, bumping the wooden shutter against the stone wall so that it clattered. Maybe she'd just gone outside to walk in the castle gardens, to get the breath of fresh air as she'd wanted.

I wished I could believe that.

I jumped up and ran to the window. The blackness of the moonless night met me. The clouds hung low and a drizzle had begun to fall. It would be the perfect night to escape, I admitted. No one would suspect that she'd leave under such conditions.

I returned to the bed and glanced underneath to the spot where she'd stored her bow and arrows. They were gone.

I expelled a sigh of frustration. I had no doubt now that she'd made her escape while everyone was busy at the ball and while the servants were occupied with their feast. If she were stealthy enough, she'd likely been able to escape without any detection, even from the guards standing watch at the gatehouse.

I glanced again at the open drawer, at the bag of gold. But why hadn't she taken the pouch or the necklace? I'd witnessed the way her eyes had lit the first time I'd shown her the gold. She'd wanted it. Desperately. Enough that she'd stayed, in spite of her clear desire to bolt the first chance she could.

Even as I asked the question, I knew the answer. Her honor wouldn't let her take them since she'd failed to complete our bargain, although she'd only been one day short.

Tomorrow was to have been our last day here at the castle, and I'd planned to have her help me deliver all of the bundles we'd packaged. After spending hours with her that
week, I'd finally realized what would make her happy. And I'd wanted to end our time here by showing her that I wasn't such a dolt after all.

Sure, maybe I'd started off planning to give the packages for her sake. Every time I thought about her being out in the world cold, hungry, and clothed in rags, I wanted to do something to help others in the same situation. But the longer I'd worked with William on the project, the more I'd wanted to do this because it felt right. If God had blessed me with much, the least I could do was bless others in return.

I wiped a hand across my eyes and fought off sudden weariness. And, yes, disappointment.

The glint of something came from the center of her bed, among folds of the coverlet. I stretched out my hand and my fingers connected with a circular band.

My ring.

I straightened and held it up into the candlelight.

Diamonds in the shape of a cross gleamed within the silver setting. It was the ring I'd worn since receiving my knighthood from the duke, the one I'd tossed to her that morning when she'd robbed me.

I'd made sure when I kidnapped her that I left the bag of stolen goods for her waif of a companion. I'd wanted the boy to have something to take with him. She'd obviously kept my ring apart from the other items. But why?

My mind spun back to last night when I'd pulled her face down to mine, when I'd taken her smooth cheeks into my hands and captured her lips against mine. The heat the memory elicited wrapped around my middle.

She hadn't resisted my kiss, hadn't pulled away from me in shock or disgust. In fact, she'd met my kiss with a warm fervor that had surprised me. For all her resistance to my nobility
and her insinuation that she would never like me, maybe she had a soft spot for me after all.

I twisted the ring around, and a grin tugged at my lips. Under any other circumstances, I would have let it loose into a full smile.

But the grin all too quickly fell away as the truth of the situation hit me.

What had started as a fun, flirtatious week to distract me from my melancholy had turned into something much more. I'd begun to care deeply about Juliana Wessex. As a neighbor. As a friend. And even as a woman. Now that she'd run out of my life, I realized just how much I didn't want to lose her. And how frightened I was that something would happen to her.

With a groan, I rose to my feet. The thought of her returning to her thieving ways and of getting caught scared me to the very core of my being. Certainly, it was only a matter of time before she was arrested for her petty thefts. They'd chop off her hand.

Or worse . . .What if she was captured and taken to Lord Wessex? What if he realized the Cloaked Bandit was really a woman?

My blood ran cold at the thought of what Lord Wessex might do to her, of the torturous ways he'd violate her. He'd make a spectacle of her, regardless of whether he ever discovered she was his long-lost niece.

“Blessed Mary,” I whispered. I had to find her and stop her from stealing again. I had to bring her back and keep her safe.

I grabbed the pouch of gold and the jewels she'd left behind. And then I slipped the ring back on my finger.

It was past time for her to settle down and live like a lady. I just prayed I'd be able to convince her of the same.

Chapter
11

I
KNELT AND BRUSHED ASIDE FALLEN LEAVES TO REVEAL A
footprint in the mud. Narrowing my eyes, I studied the forested area as I had a hundred times in the last hour. What clues had I missed?

I sat back on my heels, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose again.

Someone was following me. Or watching me. Or both.

I'd sensed the presence several hours ago, but so far whoever it was had kept well hidden.

And so had Juliana.

I'd started tracking her at first light. Of course I'd longed to leave as soon as I'd discovered that she'd gone. But I hadn't wanted to cause any more suspicion than necessary. So I'd stayed through the end of the dance, even though every second had been torture, especially each time I glanced toward Lord Wessex and his son. Irene had been angry with me all evening as well, and had made a point of spending much of the night with Edgar.

If only she knew the truth about our neighbors and what they'd done to Juliana and her father.

At the almost silent crack of a twig, I straightened and flattened my back against a large oak. The mist and the
rain-drenched forest had dampened my garments hours ago, and now they stuck to my frozen limbs.

I'd easily tracked her into the thick Wessex forest. I'd even managed to keep her trail for several hours, traveling deeper into the heart of the woods. But somehow, somewhere, she'd disappeared. Her trail had just vanished. And no amount of searching had revealed any further hints of where she'd gone.

At first I'd been afraid that the worst had happened—that she'd been captured. But after calming my crazy heartbeat, I'd realized the vegetation showed no signs of struggle. There were no broken branches, no crushed leaves, no hoofprints, no twisted limbs. Nothing.

And that was my problem. I'd reached a dead end.

I stifled a frustrated sigh. If only I'd left right away. I would have caught up with her in no time, and we'd be back at the castle where I could talk sense into her.

But now . . .

I swallowed the constriction that held my lungs captive. I wasn't accustomed to panic. I was always in control, had always maintained the upper hand against my enemies.

But I was most definitely starting to panic at the thought of losing Juliana.

I surveyed the treetops. Hidden in the thick spruce, I located at least one peasant with an arrow pointed at my heart. Should I give myself up to the man? Or should I fight?

If I killed the peasant, I risked losing a potential link that might lead me to Juliana. But if I allowed myself to be captured, there was the chance I could discover more about where Juliana had gone. But only if the man was part of Juliana's band of followers. And even if he was, I had no guarantee that he'd be willing to take me to her, that he wouldn't attempt to rob and kill me first. Even if I wasn't Lord Wessex or Sir Edgar, my nobility still made me an enemy.

My muscles tightened with the need to fight, to fit an arrow into my bow and shoot the peasant out of the tree before he knew what hit him. But I pushed down my pride and slowly stepped away from the tree, bracing myself for the impact of the man's arrow.

It came swiftly. Instead of puncturing my body, it sliced through the loose fabric in the arm of my cloak, pinning it to the tree. Another arrow followed, pinning the other arm as well. A third arrow grazed the hood of my cloak and embedded into the tree with a twang.

“Don't move,” came a growling voice, “or I'll make sure the next arrow hits your foot.”

My knightly instincts and training demanded that I free myself from the arrows and defend myself. But I couldn't do anything foolish. Or I'd lose the chance of finding Juliana.

Within seconds, a short but stocky peasant was at my side, pressing a knife against my throat. He was outfitted in a greenish-gray cloak that blended in well with the woodland. “Who are you and why are you here?”

If I admitted the truth, would the man slice my throat open at once?

“And don't tell me you're hunting, or I'll cut out your heart and eat it for lunch.” The man's grip was tight in spite of missing thumbs.

“I'm looking for someone,” I said. “I thought maybe you could help me.”

“The only help you'll get from me is a knock in the head and a boot out of the forest.”

I stretched away from the blade, glad it was dull. “She left something behind. And I want to deliver it to her.”

Beneath the coarse linen of the hooded cloak, fierce, dark eyes peered at me from within a fleshy face that was weathered and streaked with grime.

“It's a pouch I think she'll want,” I continued.

Before I had the time to react, the man swung one of his stocky arms and plunged his fist into my stomach. The force knocked the wind from me and would have doubled me over had I not been pinned to the tree by arrows.

“Give me the pouch,” the man barked.

“I have to deliver it to her personally.”

The man smashed his fist into my gut once again.

Pain ricocheted from my stomach to my ribs, and I couldn't hold back a grunt. I clenched my fingers together to stop myself from lashing back. Instead, I allowed the peasant to smash me again, this time in the cheek. My head whacked into the hardwood with enough force that I had to blink away dizziness. He fumbled at my cloak, feeling for the hard lump that would alert him to the treasure I'd brought. But after a moment of patting me down, he was still empty-handed.

“Give me the pouch now. Or I'll kill you.” The man's lips pulled back into a growl that revealed his teeth, and his short fingers slid around my throat. But even though the man was dangerous, I'd been around enough criminals during my lifetime to know that this man was no killer. He might hurt me, but I didn't think he would really kill me.

“Take me to Juliana and then I'll give you everything,” I choked out through my constricting throat.

“I'll kill you before I ever take you to her.” The fingers pressed at just the right spot to cut off my air. Ah, so he did know Juliana and where she was hiding. My sacrifice was paying off—if he didn't kill me first.

I wanted to struggle to catch my next breath. But I didn't move. Instead, I met the man's gaze. There in the depths of the sharp, dark eyes was exactly what I'd hoped to see, an intense protectiveness for Juliana.

As blackness slid through my consciousness, I prayed the peasant would see the same thing reflected in my own.