Carolyne Cathey (33 page)

Kyle reached out
to her, then lowered his arm before he touched he.  "What, Eleanor?  Why
this sadness?"

She dug her
fingers into the rough wall to garner the strength, the hardness, of the
stones.  "I've accomplished my mission, revealed my dream, warned you of
Brigham.  And now we've discussed improvements for Trystonwood.  The only part
of the vision remaining is the peasants wiping away tears of despair, their
faces brightening with joy.  And of most import, destiny has proclaimed me a
peasant, thus unworthy to be your lady--" She put up her hand.  "Nay,
let me finish, my lord.  And even though we believed 'twould suffice, this
nonphysical relationship, 'tis too painful to remain at a dispassionate
distance.  If the king refuses your request, then I . . . "   Eleanor
swallowed at the sudden lump in her throat that sought to block her words. 
"What future have I here?"

Kyle placed his
hands on her arms.  Heat shot throughout her body from his touch.  "I've
attempted to humor you, to not force myself upon you--"

"Humor
me?"  Offended, she met the blue intensity of his gaze.  "You refuse
to understand the seriousness of our situation."

Kyle bristled. 
"And you think me not intelligent enough to handle the dilemma."

Eleanor closed
her eyes to drive her searching questions into some wise part of her mind. 
Even though the king would visit soon, she knew the certainty of his answer. 
Eleanor knew what she should do.  Then why did she prolong the inevitable? 
Because she had missed her monthly flux?  Perhaps today she would start her
flow.  Or, mayhaps on the morrow.  Yet in truth, the possibility only magnified
her reason to leave, for a babe would place Kyle in a more tenuous position. 

Eleanor sighed. 
Only four glorious times had they shared their bodies, and those within days of
her arrival.  Even though she had not been intimate with him since, she knew. 
She carried Kyle’s child.

Eleanor opened
her eyes and brushed her fingers over Kyle's cheek.  "My lord, this circumstance
is torture for us both.  What I fear most is that, in our frustration, we'll
grow to hate each other.  Our togetherness slays our affection.  'Tis an ugly
death.  I know what I should do.  I should return to the convent."

Pain blazed in
his eyes.  "Aye.  You should."

Her mouth went
dry.  She had not expected an easy win.  She had hoped he would fight.  Eleanor
concentrated on the autumn landscape once more.  Rupert tended his flocks in
the pasture.  Peasants swung their scythes in the grain fields.  Rooks soared
above the trees.  The village stood as before.  Somehow, life went on, the
world stayed in place in the firmament, the daystar continued to shine.  How
so?  Her world had collapsed to rubble at her feet.

Her breath
hitched.  Beth.  He wanted Beth.  She spun to face him.  "'Tis because of
Beth!"  Well, curse.  She had reverted to jealousy again as if possessed
by the devil.  Shame filled her that she had allowed rage to overwhelm her good
intentions.

He widened his
eyes.  "Beth?"

"Hah!" 
She pointed her angry finger at his face.  "Don't show that mock innocence
to me, Lord Kyle.  You want her in your bed without me around to spy on you.  I
overheard your decadent invitation."  She wanted to smack his conceited
grin. 

"Ah.  We're
back to that, are we?  You're the one who is so desperate to scrub my
floors." 

Kyle stepped back
from her threatened approach, but she followed.  "You have both worlds.  I
do the labor, Beth receives the benefits."

He shrugged,
mischief in his eyes.  "You refuse me.  What am I to do?"

"You don't
deny the charge?  Beth says you built the hut for a beautiful woman dear to
your heart."

Kyle pursed his
mouth and nodded.  "Aye.  I did."

Eleanor forced
her tongue to move.  "Am I the woman?"

Kyle's gaze
darted to the countryside.  "Nay."

"Then 'tis
good I leave."  Eleanor whirled and stomped toward the stairs.

Kyle grasped her
and pulled her into his arms.  "Ah, love.  You misunderstand between Beth
and me.  The cottage is for Nurse and Peter along with a bit of the surrounding
land so that they may wed.  I thank you for awakening me to what I should have
known years before."

Words flooded
back to Eleanor's mind.  A most beautiful woman, dear to his heart, whom he had
known since birth. 
His
birth.  For a woman and her lover.  Nurse
Kincaid and Peter.

Gladness welled
past her grief.  "Do they know?  Were they happy?"

Kyle smiled, and
she thought she saw his eyes mist as if with emotion-filled remembrance. 
"Aye, they both wept.  Then I told them 'twas to you they owed their
gratitude, not me.  I believe they think you a saint."  He turned his back
and sniffed, then cleared his throat.  "As to Beth, I only asked if she'd
be amenable to wed Rupert."

She moved to
stand in front of him and gazed into his eyes to witness whether truth or lie. 
"Rupert?"

"Aye.  I
promised I'd visit with the man this day, then I'd relay his answer to her this
eve.  I wanted to know her wishes in the matter before I approached him."

She had acted the
fool yet again.  Eleanor buried her hot cheek against his chest.  "I
apologize, my lord.  This jealousy of mine, 'tis unforgivable.  I'm not being
fair, yet when I'm the most certain my feelings are under control, the wretched
emotion bursts out like a bad child."

The rumble of his
chuckle vibrated in her ear.  "I, too, am smitten with jealous fits.  Why
do you think I seek to mate the two?  I want Rupert occupied elsewhere."

Eleanor sighed
with joyous relief.  She glanced into his sapphire eyes that overrode her
senses.  "Do you think he will agree?"

"I plan to
make the merger worth his interest.  As an inducement, I'll present him with
additional land.  And as a landowner, he'll be entitled to grander
responsibilities than as shepherd, as well as receiving a willing lass."

"'Twill be a
lusty match."

The corners of
his eyes crinkled with his grin.  "Aye.  Me thinks they'll be so busy with
their own delights, neither will think about us.  By the by, where is Rupert's
pup, the ferocious King Edward?"

Eleanor laughed. 
"He stumbles over his ears to keep up with John."  She glanced down
at her clasped hands, then back at Kyle, unable to keep her gaze away from his
face.  "The lad will miss the hound when Rupert wants his possession
back.  And for certain we must hide the pup when the king arrives.  Our liege
lord might not be flattered having a dog for a namesake."

"The
king."  Kyle's sudden frown made her want to run her fingertips over his
brow, to soothe away his concerns.  "Eleanor, before Jerrod left, I asked
him to take you to safety as soon as he returned.  But I can't wait for him any
longer."

Her heart kicked
against her ribs.  "You've known all this time that you would send me
away?"  Realization of how she had wasted their precious moments dragged
her spirits to her toes.  If she had known . . . then what?  What could she
have done any differently than she had?  She would have stayed more within his
presence and absorbed him with her gaze.  She wouldn't have argued.  She would
have touched him more, kissed him until she gasped for air, then kissed him
again.  She forced a breath into her tight lungs.  "But why?"

"'Tis too
hazardous, love."  Kyle leaned on the battlement and stared toward the
Avon River.  "Hanley has busied himself in preparation for war.  As has
Brigham in his own perverted way.  And Jerrod may return too late with my
allies.  Even so, I must have you gone by All Hallows Eve."

"But that's
on the morrow!  Why All Hallows Eve?"

Kyle didn't
respond.

Stunned, Eleanor
studied the hurried pace of the laborers in the fields and the several wagons
that rocked along the road toward the keep as they hurried to ready both for
the king's visit and the possibility of attack.  Guilt wedged past her sadness
and loomed foremost among her thoughts.  "The servants titter with
concern.  Lucinda says the villagers are more quiet than usual, in wait for
disaster."

Kyle gripped the
wall.  "The workers gather as much grain as possible.  We'd not last the
winter if someone burned the fields.  Others bring in boulders and oil should
we need to defend our walls."

"The
storerooms were so bereft of food, my lord, that even though we've struggled to
replenish, we still have far too little."

Concern blackened
his expression as he rubbed his hand across his mouth.  "We'd not last
long in a siege.  We'd be forced to starve or surrender.  I must ask Rupert to
slay more sheep." 

Distress washed
over his face as he groaned and pushed away from the wall.  "The danger
closes in around me, suffocates me.  Each day the foreboding worsens.  And yet
Jerrod comes not with the other knights.  I pray he hasn't met with tragedy. 
Or perhaps none will come to my aid."  He enclosed her hands in his. 
"You were right to refuse me, love.  In my urgency to have you as my lady,
I overlooked what dire consequences might fall upon you should aught transpire
against me.  I only knew I wanted you.  And I felt loathe for you to leave me
because I feared for your safety if you were out of my sight and my protection,
but in truth, you are in more danger here.  You will leave before vespers."

"Nay!  I
won't go!"

Surprise flushed
his expression.  "Does the wind distort your words?  Did you not say you
must leave?"  He brushed his fingertips across her lips.  "Our time
grows short, love.  Once the danger passes, I'll send for you again."

"I won't leave
you.  I want to stay by your side--"

"For once I
agree with you and now you jump sides of the argument?"

"I only
meant 'tis what I should do, not what I intend.  I know I should leave because
my nearness causes you unneeded strain.  I'm unfair, jealous, all those ugly
traits you don't deserve, but I refuse to leave when you might be in
jeopardy."

"I insist. 
I won't be dissuaded.  If aught should happen to me, I might not be able to
protect you from Brigham and Lady Mellisande, or the king."

"My lord, I somehow
must make restitution for the tragedy I've caused.  'Tis my error, this
nastiness.  I can't walk away and pretend all is well.  If I hadn't arrived,
then--"

"Then I'd be
as miserable as before I first saw you.  You've changed me, changed my life, and
aye, changed Trystonwood, for I confess my blindness to Brigham's sins.  'Tis I
who must make restitution to all of Trystonwood for what they have had to
suffer in my absence.  And when I think how dismal, how sad my life before you
offered yourself to me in the mist like an answer to my wildest fantasy . . .
Nay, don't shake your head and correct my memories.  In your mind you meant to
scrub my floors and tend my garden, but in my mind . . . "   He traced the
outline of her lips with his finger and she longed to sink against him in
surrender.  "In my mind you were the answer to my lonely prayers.  I
existed for honor, with no softness, no joy, no love.  You gave me a reason to
live for more than mere duty.  But I'm not the only one who is different.  You've
changed, as well."

Eleanor uttered a
soft laugh.  "Aye.  I'm not the same innocent as when I left the
convent."

"Nay. 
You're a woman.  And not just because of what we've shared in my bed.  A
nobility of spirit has emerged that goes beyond the frightened defiance of when
you first arrived.  The servants respect you.  You are wise, caring.  You fill
my days with laughter and have filled my past nights with passion, as you will
again in the future."

"I've
brought death to your gate."

"I never
intended to wed Lady Mellisande.  You've given me a reason to fight."

Eleanor buried
her face in her hands.  She longed to believe him.  She rubbed her temples and
released a beleaguered sigh.  "I'm full of confusion.  ‘Tis like looking
into a cut gem.  The stone appears clear, yet when I peer through the facets,
the image is blurred, indistinct, and I'm not certain what I see.  Do my eyes
misinterpret?  Does my heart misunderstand?"

Kyle pulled her
to his chest, where she belonged.  His arms felt so right about her.  Yet, fate
had decreed otherwise.

"I worry,
love.  A voice screams inside that I've waited too late.  I wish Jerrod would
report back so that I may ask him to take you to safety, but even so, I must
send you away."

"If I leave,
I fear I will never see you again."  And he might never know she carried
his child.

"Nay, hush
such defeatist talk."

Eleanor lifted
her gaze to his.  "I am not fooled, Lord Kyle.  I know if King Edward
commands you to wed Mellisande, you will do so.  As in the holy land during the
crusades, you might be appalled at his commands, you might hate the burden he
gives you, but you will do as ordered.  You have sworn your fealty."

His pained
expression, his sudden silence, the slight stiffening of his body, the
tightening of his hands on her arms--all acknowledged the truth of her words. 

She chilled as if
the sun had dropped beneath the edge of the earth, but even so, she must spare
him as much distress as possible.  "Do not tear yourself apart with guilt
over impossibilities, Kyle.  I understand.  You are an honorable knight, which
is one of the reasons why I love and respect you as I do."

Tortured agony
filled the blue of his eyes.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but a loud
shout drew her and Kyle's attention.  He leaned over the wall and peered in the
direction of the gate, then squeezed her shoulder.  "'Tis Jerrod.  He has
returned." 

The huskiness of
his voice stabbed an ache into her chest with such force she couldn't breathe.

"Come,
love.  Let's see how many knights, if any, have answered my call.  Then we . .
. we must plan your departure."