Connie Mason (39 page)

Raven stopped to catch her breath and steady herself against a large rock. So far so good, she thought as she executed another hop. Then her luck ran out. Her bound feet
landed on loose stones and slid out from beneath her. She collided with the ground hard, skidding and sliding down the slope on her bottom. She hit the wet sand on the beach below, unable to catch her breath, every bone in her body violently jarred. Then she knew no more.

Drake had already explored several caves along the beach and had almost given up on finding Raven when he saw a body sprawled in the sand a short distance ahead of him. His heart raced; fear propelled him forward. Instinct told him it was Raven. It had to be.

Stumbling across the sand, he dropped to his knees beside her, softly calling her name. When she did not answer, he gathered her inert body in his arms and hugged her close. She was so very cold, as cold as death, and he feared he had reached her too late. An anguished cry erupted from his throat as he rocked her against him. Tears slid down his cheeks as he lifted his face to the misty rain and asked God to spare her life. Then, miraculously, a soft sigh slipped past her lips.

Daring to hope again, he brushed hanks of wet hair from her pale face and stared at her. Her skin was transparent, her eyelids shadowed with purple, and her lips bloodless. Her wet clothing was plastered to her body, but she lived. He pulled off his mantle and wrapped it around her. When he noticed that her legs were bound with cords, he swore and slit them with his dagger. Then he tugged the horn from his belt and blew two short blasts.

Carefully lifting Raven into his arms, he started down the beach. Soon he was joined by more than a score of men. Sir John took off his mantle and placed it over Raven for added warmth.

“Is she . . .”

“She is alive,” Drake rasped. “Though nearly frozen to death. Send someone ahead to the keep. I want a hot tub
prepared and plenty of beef broth and warm ale available as soon as I arrive. And,” he added grimly, “send someone to the village for the midwife.” Though he did not speak the words aloud, he feared for the life of his child.

“I will go myself,” John said, sprinting off.

“Would you like me to carry her?” Sir Richard offered.

“Nay. I will carry her myself.” If Raven recovered with no ill effects, and God willing she would, Drake silently vowed to take better care of her.

Raven stirred and he held her closer, tighter, willing his warmth into her. He took the path leading to the top of the cliff, negotiating it with ease; Raven’s slight weight was as nothing to him. His men followed, their faces grave, concern etched upon their brows.

Drake reached the top, where grooms were waiting with their horses. Drake reluctantly handed Raven to Sir Richard while he mounted; then he took her up in front of him and kneed his destrier forward. Raven lay so still Drake feared for her life. Her lips were blue, her face pale, her chest barely rose and fell with each breath. Were he able to breathe his own life into her, he would do so gladly.

Duff and Willa met him at the door. “How is she?” Duff asked worriedly. “She looks so pale.”

“God willing, she will live,” Drake replied as he brushed past his brother-in-law.

The servants were prepared for Drake’s arrival. They waited with warmed blankets, broth, and ale. Brusquely Drake ordered everything carried to the solar. A warm tub was waiting before a roaring fire in their bedchamber. When Lora lingered behind to help, Drake ordered her out. Raven was his and he would take care of her.

Once everyone had withdrawn, Drake placed Raven on the bed and with great care removed her sodden clothing. He cursed over each and every bruise marring her lovely
body and fervently wished he could resurrect Waldo from his grave and make him suffer as Raven had suffered. When he had rid Raven of her clothing, he carried her to the tub and lowered her gently into the water. Raven’s eyes flew open, her eyes widened, and she screamed.

Frightened, Drake froze, wondering what he had done to hurt her. “What is it, sweeting? Tell me where you hurt.”

Raven stared at him, her mouth working wordlessly as she tried to leave the tub. Drake held her down with a firm hand.

“Do you want something to drink?”

Raven nodded. Drake filled a cup with ale and held it to her lips so she could drink. She sipped a few drops and shook her head, as if too tired to swallow.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked as he set the cup aside. “Is it the babe?”

Her face paled and her hands flew to her stomach. Noting her badly bruised wrists for the first time, Drake roared in outrage. Carefully he grasped her hands, lifting them so he could inspect them more closely. Raven inhaled sharply.

“What did that bastard do to you?”

“He tied my hands behind me, bound my ankles, and left me in the cave to die,” she rasped weakly. “I feared you would not find me. Did Waldo tell you where to look?”

“Waldo is dead,” he said flatly. “May he burn in hell.”

“Amen,” Raven said. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Is the warm water doing you any good?”

“I am not so cold anymore.”

“How long were you lying on the beach?”

She shrugged. “I know not. I managed to cut through the cords binding my wrists, but my hands were too numb to remove the cords from my ankles. I started hopping down the slope and lost my footing. ’Tis all I remember until I woke up
in your arms.” Her hand splayed over her stomach. “How fares my babe?” she asked worriedly.

“Is there pain?”

She shook her head.

“Then he is still firmly entrenched. I sent to the village for the midwife.”

Raven sighed. “I will not lose your child, Drake. I swear it.”

Raven words were so resolute that Drake did not doubt her for a minute. “Your flesh is no longer chilled. ’Tis off to bed with you now,” he said, reaching for one of the blankets warming beside the hearth. “Can you stand?”

“Nay. My feet are numb.”

“Put your arms around my neck and hold tight,” Drake said. In one smooth motion, Drake lifted her out of the water and wrapped her in the blanket. Then he carried her to the bed and tucked her beneath a fur robe. When he had made her comfortable, he sat at the edge of the bed, staring at her. He did not know how to broach the subject, but he knew he must for his own peace of mind. Not that it would make any difference. Nothing Waldo could do to Raven would soil her in his eyes.

“Sweeting,” Drake began, “you need not distress yourself with details, but I want to know everything that Waldo did and said to you. But first you must take some broth. You have not eaten in three days.”

He fetched the broth and painstakingly spooned the rich liquid into her mouth. When she signaled that she had eaten her fill, he set the bowl aside and kissed her forehead. “Do you wish to sleep?”

“Nay. I want to tell you . . . everything. ’Tis important you know.”

“Only if you feel up to it.”

“Waldo is not your half brother.”

Stunned, Drake stared at her. “What makes you say that?”

“He told me himself. He believed I would die in the cave, and spoke freely of the evil things he had done.”

She told him everything Waldo had related to her. When she revealed that Waldo had killed Daria, Basil, and Aric, a sickness came over Drake. He had always known Waldo was possessed of demons, but he had had no idea how truly evil he was.

“The man was insane,” Drake said, stunned by the tale of evil intrigues Raven had just spun. “It all makes sense now. During our youth, Waldo hated me because he knew I was Basil’s rightful heir, but when he found out he was not Basil’s son, his fury drove him to commit murder in order to keep his embarrassing secret from becoming public knowledge. Thank God the world is rid of him.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Nay, though I wish it had been me. Thieves got to him first. He was slain in the forest near Exeter. We brought him back to Windhurst for burial. Balder saw to it. I did not wish to know where he was buried.”

A knock on the door announced the midwife, and Drake ushered her inside the chamber. She was young and robust and seemed to know exactly what she was about. She ordered Drake from the chamber so she could examine Raven and closed the door in his face.

Drake was joined by Duff, who questioned him closely about Raven’s condition. Only when Duff was assured that Raven would recover did he return to the hall, leaving Drake to pace and worry until the midwife reappeared. “Are my wife and child well?” he asked gruffly.

“Lady Raven still carries the babe. ’Tis a good sign. Your wife is a determined woman. Keep her abed for a fortnight. The rest is in God’s hands. Send for me if she feels pain.”

Cheered by her words, Drake nodded, anxious to return
to Raven. “See my steward. He will pay you for your services.”

Drake returned to the bedchamber and perched on the edge of the bed. A sleepy-eyed Raven smiled up at him. “Our child fares well,” she said. “Did the midwife tell you?”

“Aye. She said you are a strong woman. But I never doubted that.”

Raven’s lids fluttered. Drake rose, aware that she needed sleep more than she needed to talk right now.

“Nay, do not leave me,” Raven whispered, reaching for him. “Lie down beside me. I need to know you are here. Talk to me until I go to sleep.”

Drake eagerly complied. The bed ropes creaked as he gathered her in his arms. Holding Raven was something he intended to do a lot of in the future. Then he began to speak in low, soothing tones.

“You are the bravest woman I know. We might never have found you in time if you had not left the cave and sawed through your bonds. ’Tis a miracle you were not hurt badly when you fell. Most women would have accepted their fate and awaited death. But not you, my courageous wife. You defied fate. I care not what Waldo did to you. You are back with me where you belong; naught else matters.”

“Waldo touched me not except to bind my limbs,” Raven murmured, half-asleep.

Though his feelings for Raven would not have changed if Waldo had raped her, he knew instinctively that it would have mattered to Raven, and that he would have felt her pain as keenly as she.

“I love you, wife,” he whispered against her ear.

“I love you, husband,” she murmured drowsily.

A fortnight later Raven negotiated the stairs without Drake’s help and entered the hall. She halted abruptly, embarrassed
when the folk assembled there rose to their feet and saluted her with their cups. She blushed as she proceeded to the high table, where her husband awaited her.

“You look radiant,” he said as he seated her next to him. “Are you sure you are well enough to join us tonight?”

Her hands spanned her stomach. “I am well; my babe rides comfortably within me, and I am bored lying abed all day.”

His eyes darkened with desire, and he touched her cheek. “What say you we retire early tonight? I have missed you.”

Raven met his gaze; her breasts tautened and her limbs grew languid. “Just as I have missed you, husband.”

Drake grinned. “Who would have known that coltish, mischievous child who begged me for a kiss would become my wife?”

“Mayhap Granny Nola knew,” Raven teased as she chewed a succulent piece of roasted pork he had placed on her trencher. “I hope your grandmother arrives soon. Are you certain Sir John can convince her to come live with us?”

“Sir John is a persuasive fellow. I am certain he will charm her into accompanying him to Windhurst.”

“Think you we can find wives for Sir John and Sir Richard? ’Tis long past time they married.”

“Once we settle in at Eyre you can play matchmaker to your heart’s content.”

“I will miss Windhurst, but I am not sorry to leave.” She shuddered. “There are too many bad memories here. Besides, Eyre lands march along with Chirk’s and the castles are within a day’s ride. I want to become friends with Willa and visit Chirk from time to time.”

The meal finally ended. Drake bade everyone good night. Then to Raven’s surprise and delight, he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the stairs. The moment the chamber door closed behind them, Drake placed her on the bed and followed her down. Their clothing flew in every direction,
driven by love, by need, by eagerness to renew their vows of everlasting love.

With tender care the Black Knight filled her, pressed deeply, rocked against her, completed her . . . claiming her for all eternity, body, soul, and senses.

A knight believes that love conquers all
.

Eyre Castle, three years later

Seated in a comfortable chair, Granny Nola dozed before the hearth, tuckered out after helping bring Raven’s twins into the world. The midwife had just finished cleaning Raven when Drake stormed into the bedchamber. Three-year-old Dillon trailed behind him. Drake stopped just short of the bed, looking askance at the midwife.

“You may see your wife now, my lord. Try not to tire her, for she has put in a full day’s work. Birthing twins is no easy task.”

“I will not tire her,” Drake promised.

The midwife quietly left the room and closed the door behind her. Drake knelt beside the bed, enveloping Raven’s small hand in his. He bent to kiss her forehead. Raven opened her eyes and smiled up at him.