Blood of the Rose (5 page)

“To Queen Katherine.”

“I’m sure if you asked the king, he would be happy for you to serve the Lady Anne instead.”

Rosalind shivered and Rhys stepped up close behind her, shielding her body from the wind suddenly whipping through the channels of the maze. “How could I serve Anne Boleyn? I would feel as if I had betrayed and abandoned the queen when she needed me most.”

Rhys squeezed her shoulder. “From what I understand, the queen has been forbidden to have more than a handful of followers with her. The king probably wouldn’t allow you to go to her anyway.”

Rosalind drew in a long breath. “Then I suppose my first task is to see the king and ask him if I might serve the very woman who wants to bring about his downfall.” She glanced up at Rhys and then at Jasper. “At least if I can confirm that Anne Boleyn is indeed a Vampire I can inform the king.”

Jasper nodded. “If he will listen to you. Many think him already bewitched and set on his course to end his first marriage and marry Lady Anne.”

“We can only pray that is not the case and hope for a happy resolution,” Rosalind said. “I will certainly do my best to talk to Elias and express our concerns.”

“I pray you have more success than I did, my lady.” Jasper bowed and smiled at Rhys. “Perhaps you can let me know what happens between the king and Rosalind.”

“Of course, Jasper.” Rhys bowed in return. “Now I suggest we return to our beds. It’s a chilly night.”

Jasper departed first, threading his way back through the yew trees. Rosalind turned toward the formal gardens, but Rhys suddenly blocked her path.

“There is someone else out here.”

Rosalind tried to look around Rhys, but he shoved her back toward the maze. “Wait.”

“There’s no need to panic. It’s only me.”

Rhys didn’t lower his weapon and neither did Rosalind.

“What do you want, Lord Christopher?” Rhys asked softly.

“Just to talk.”

Rosalind finally succeeded in stepping around Rhys and saw Christopher, dressed in his habitual black, his hands open to display his lack of weapons, his expression somber.

“We have nothing to say to you, my lord.”

Christopher smiled. “In truth, I have nothing to say to
you
, Rhys Williams. Only to Rosalind.”

“Who has no wish to hear it.”

Christopher glared at Rosalind. “Are you allowing Rhys to speak for you these days?”

“You know I am not.”

Rhys grinned. “Mayhap you should,
cariad
.”

A dagger appeared in Christopher’s hand. “Did you just call her your ‘love’?”

“I didn’t realize you spoke Welsh, my lord.”

“Never mind that. I don’t appreciate you calling my betrothed your ‘love.’ ”

Rhys pushed past Rosalind again and faced Christopher toe-to-toe. “You well know that your betrothal cannot last.”

“And you think to take advantage of that fact and poach on another man’s property?”

“I am not your property,” Rosalind hissed.

Christopher gave her a quick glance. “My chattel, then.”

Rosalind tried to get around Rhys, but he held her off with one muscled arm. “I can handle this, my lady.”

She kicked him sharply in the shin and he yelped. “You two deserve each other. A pair of more mutton-headed fools I have never seen.” To emphasize her point, Rosalind turned on her heel and walked back into the maze. She would wait them out. Perhaps she might even emerge to find they had killed each other, which would cheer her greatly.

The high hornbeam hedges closed in around her, but she kept walking until she could no longer hear their voices. She had an excellent sense of direction, so she reckoned the chances of getting lost in the maze were remote.

Christopher hardly heard Rosalind’s cry of exasperation as he gazed at Rhys, a challenge in his eyes. “I have no intention of breaking the betrothal. You know that.”

“It won’t be up to you. Your family will find a way to release you, won’t they?”

“I expect them to try. What is far more interesting to contemplate is why neither family has yet done so.”

Rhys relaxed his fighting stance. “I’ve wondered that myself.”

Christopher slid his dagger back into its sheath. “Perhaps someone wishes us to remain linked together. For what purpose I cannot yet fathom.”

“I have no idea either.” Rhys turned his head and then spun around in a slow circle. “Where did Rosalind go?”

Christopher smiled. “Into the maze to get away from us, I assume.”

Rhys groaned. “I suppose I’ll have to go in there and fetch her now.”

“How about you let me do that?”

“She won’t want to see you, my lord. She isn’t happy with you at all.”

“I noticed that, which is why I need to talk to her and set a few things straight.” Rhys opened his mouth as if to object and Christopher kept talking. “Please, Rhys. Give me this one chance. If she tells me to go to the devil, or that she never wants to speak to me again, I’ll gladly leave her alone.”

“All right, then, but don’t tell her it was my idea.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Christopher bowed. “I’ll take care of her and get her back to bed safely.”

“Her own bed.” Rhys scowled. “Or I will be demanding a reckoning from you.”

“I’ll do whatever the lady wishes, I give you my word. Now let me go and find her before she is completely lost.”

Christopher headed into the maze and placed his left hand on the left wall. There was no sign of Rosalind, but then she’d had a good start on him. As he walked he pondered the strange meeting he’d only witnessed from afar. Why had the Druids chosen to meet in secret and exactly why had Rosalind returned to court?

He had sensed a growing excitement in the Vampire community these last few months, but of course no one would tell him why. The stain of his mother’s turning Vampire was enough to make his loyalty questionable to both his own family and the Vampires who despised impure bloodlines. It was even more apparent since he’d met Rosalind Llewellyn and become linked to her both physically and mentally.

Ahead of him he caught a whisper of sound and went still. Was that Rosalind cursing? A reluctant smile curved his lips. If he didn’t find her quickly, she was likely to take her dagger and carve an exit all by herself.

Rosalind spun around in a fruitless circle. All the hedges looked the same now, and she was hopelessly lost. So much for her much-vaunted sense of direction. The maze stifled sound, so she had no sense of the outside, of the wind, of the direction of the huge main buildings. The hedges were over six feet tall and although dense, the branches were spindly and didn’t offer the means to climb up and see where she was. Mayhap she would be better off trying to crawl in a straight line right through them.

Rosalind set off once again and found herself in yet another dead end. She kicked out at the hedge trunks and hurt her toe. Low laughter behind her made her spin around, her dagger drawn, her heart thumping.

Christopher swept her an elegant bow. “Are you lost, my lady?”

“Not at all.” Rosalind continued to glare at him as he made no move to leave. “I’m just taking a quiet stroll and admiring the greenery.”

“In the middle of a dark, cold night?”

“You are doing the same thing, sir.”

He advanced a step toward her. “I am looking for you. Rhys and I were worried.”

“You and Rhys were threatening each other not half an hour ago!”

“We came to an understanding.”

“Men.” Rosalind scoffed. “I was hoping you’d kill each other.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I like Rhys.”

“More than you like me, I warrant.”

He regarded her seriously, his head to one side. “Sometimes. You bring out both the best and the worst in me.”

“As you do me.” Rosalind moved closer to the hedge and Christopher immediately copied her action. “I’m surprised you didn’t let Rhys come after me.”

“We fought over the honor of being your gallant knight.”

Rosalind made a rude noise. “Did you lose?”

His smile flashed out. “Rosalind, it is very hard to be angry with you when you are so charming.”

She clenched her hands into fists. “I’m not quite sure why you are angry with me at all.”

His eyebrows rose. “I thought I’d made myself clear.”

“As clear as most men.”

“You’ve ignored me for a year and then you come skipping back to court and expect what? My instant attendance and adoration?”

“What brass! How have I ignored you?”

He advanced toward her. “You never wrote me a single note, not even to tell me you had reached home safely.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Are you claiming you wrote to me?”

“I did!”

“I never received a letter from you.” A muscle flicked in his cheek. He had an uncanny ability to slip from affability to anger in but a moment. “I had to take my cap in my hand and ask Elias Warner for news of you.”

“But that is who I sent your letter to.”

“He never gave me any letter!”

“Probably because it isn’t in his best interests for us to be together.”

He slapped a hand to his forehead. “And yet, fool that I am, I entrusted him with my letters for you. He promised me he would see them delivered. I should’ve asked him to whom.”

“I never received anything from you.” Rosalind stared at Christopher as she imagined him laboring over a letter for her. She found herself wanting to smile. “You truly wrote to me?”

“Of course I did! I even composed some terrible love songs in your honor.” He groaned. “Elias must’ve enjoyed those. I wonder what he did with the letters. I can’t wait to ask him.”

“Me too.” She licked her lips and looked up at him, warmth expanding in her chest. “It was kind of you to write.”

“Kind of me?” He scowled at her. “I didn’t do it out of kindness.” The next moment she was in his arms. “I did it because of this.”

He kissed her hard, his mouth taking possession of hers as if he had never left, as if he still had the right to command both her love and her obedience. Rosalind kissed him back, her tongue dueling with his, her hand tight in his crow black hair. When she pushed him away he was breathing as hard as she was.

It was far too easy for her to succumb to his body’s demands. She wanted him, and had never forgotten the taste and smell of him. But the thought of her impending mission held her back from complete capitulation. Why did his mind remain as firmly locked against her as hers was to him? What secrets might he be keeping for his Vampire allies?

She stroked his bearded cheek, feathered her fingers over his fine curved lips and reluctantly pulled away. “We have to get out of the maze. Do you know how?”

He frowned. “That’s all you have to say? What is amiss, Rosalind, that you don’t want to kiss me? Surely now that we have sorted out this muddle we can be at ease with each other?” His smile was a sensual invitation that made her long to wrap herself around him and drown in his kisses. If only it was as simple as a few stolen love letters . . .

She stepped out of his arms and smoothed down her skirts. “I simply wish to leave this maze. It has become quite oppressive.”

He regarded her for a long moment and then held out his hand. “Hold on to me, and I’ll have you out of here in the twitch of a lamb’s tail.”

She took his hand and his long fingers entwined with hers. It felt like coming home. He sheathed his dagger and placed his right hand on the prickly green wall. “It’s easy. When exiting, you keep your hand on the right side of the hedge and follow it, even into the dead ends.”

“That sounds far too straightforward,” Rosalind muttered, but she kept hold of him and they were soon back at the beginning of the maze. “Thank you.”

He released her, but didn’t move away. “What’s wrong, Rosalind?”

She tried to smile. “Nothing at all, my lord.”

His eyes narrowed and his hand fell to his sword. “Then what were you doing out here in the first place?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Because it was Druid business?”

She shrugged, aware of a chill emanating not just from the breeze, but from Christopher’s frosty blue eyes. It seemed the year apart had changed him, made his expression harder and his gaze more wary.

“As you may recall, my lady, Druid business often concerns the Vampires, which makes it my business.”

“Is that why you were out here, spying on me?”

“I have a perfect right to protect my own.”

“To protect the Vampires? You consider those monsters your own kind, then?”

He bowed and stepped back. “Verily, I was thinking of you, rather than the Vampires.”

“I am not yours to protect.”

“You are my betrothed.”

Rosalind wanted to scream at his obstinate tone. “A temporary aberration, we both know that.”

He took her hand and planted a kiss on it. “There’s nothing temporary about this betrothal for me.” He spun around and stalked off before coming to a halt. “By the rood, I promised Rhys I’d see you back to your bed.”

For some reason, Rosalind felt close to tears. “I’m quite capable—”

He turned back and advanced upon her, the threat of retribution gleaming in his eyes. “Rosalind, by all that is holy, accept my escort, or I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you like the carcass of a pig!”