Forbidden Magic (49 page)

The sky had cleared and the bright yellow orb of the sun was slipping behind the horizon when Amery finally decided to return to the castle. He had spent the day traveling the same piece of land he had searched time and time again since Jewel had disappeared. He knew it was hopeless to look for her after all these days, but he preferred being alone rather than having to endure the sympathetic looks he received from nearly everyone at Burchard. And he was able to escape Mertice. His eyes darkened at the thought of that woman. He knew what she wanted, and it infuriated him that she cared so little about another's life that she did not even try to console him over his loss or offer words of encouragement as the others did. A month ago, he would have, taken advantage of her willingness, then walked away from her as had been his custom with women. But it was different now. The thought of holding someone other than Jewel in his arms seemed dishonorable.

The castle loomed tall and dark before him as he rode toward the gates. The serfs had returned to their huts for the night, and the yard was empty as he reined his destrier toward the stables. Dismounting outside the doors, he walked the animal inside and considered spending the night there, Where no one would bother him and he could grieve in solitude. But before he realized it, he had unsaddled the steed, put away the bridle, tossed the stallion a pitchfork full of hay, and found himself walking toward the huge oak door leading inside to the great hall. Pausing a moment as he touched a hand to the latch, he took a deep breath and reconsidered spending the night in the stables. The gnawing in his stomach changed his mind.

The great hall was filled with people eating and drinking and thoroughly enjoying themselves as if they were celebrating the eve of Christ's birth all over again, and Amery frowned angrily once he stepped inside and saw them. How could anyone feel joyous when Jewel was yet to be found? Surely Gunther was not aware of what was going on. He would not be a part of this! But just as Amery had silently proclaimed it as fact, he spotted his friend on the far side of the room near the fireplace, chalice in hand and his arm draped lovingly around his wife's shoulders. Amery's spine stiffened instantly and, in a rage, he swung the thick wooden door shut behind him with a loud bang, immediately bringing everyone's attention to him. A deathly quiet fell over the crowd, for those at Burchard had come to know the limits of his wrath, and although they knew he would understand the reason for their good cheer once he was told, none could find the courage to explain. In silence they moved away, opening the distance between him and the lord of the castle.

Doffing his helm and mantle, Amery tossed them both aside and started across the room toward the stairs. Maybe the others had cause to rejoice, but he did not, and he was not going to stay in the same room with them. He cast them all a damning look, his green eyes settling last on Gunther, and he slowed his steps as he neared the stone stairway. The smile on his friend's face had not faded in the least, and he sensed everyone in the hall shared a secret of which only he was unaware.

"Amery, good friend," Gunther said with a grin, letting go of Anne to cross the space to him, "I have a surprise for you. But first I must warn you that she doesn't know who you are, so you must tread lightly." Ignoring Amery's confused frown, he stepped to one side of his companion and extended his hand toward the high-backed chair before the hearth and the young woman who sat in it with Ella perched on one knee.

Amery's huge body tensed with his first sight of the coppery-haired beauty with her amber-hued eyes that stared back at him, and he found it nearly impossible to breathe. He blinked, certain the vision wasn't real, that what he saw was only the image that had preyed upon his every waking hour and haunted his dreams each night. But when the child slid from her lap and shyly approached him to reach up and take his big hand in her tiny one and pull him toward the chair, he knew he wasn't imagining it. His chin trembled, and he gritted his teeth so that no one might notice.

"Welcome home, Jewel,".he murmured, wanting very much to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her hungrily. But there was a befuddled look in her eyes that cautioned him to heed Gunther's warning.

Jewel's smooth brow wrinkled in a perplexed frown as she stared back at him, a mass of whirling thoughts going through her head. His voice, the color of his eyes, his blond hair, and the scar on his cheek were all so frighteningly familiar. She knew him. She was positive of that. But she couldn't recall why. He was the key to her past, if only she could remember. A small hand reached out and tugged on the hem of her sleeve, and she glanced down at the chubby little face still flushed with a mild fever.

"Sir Amery home now," Ella said, her blue eyes round with innocence.

Amery? The name exploded in Jewel's head. Amery! Amery of Wellington! Her betrothed! Tears flooded her eyes and a sob shook her body as she lifted her face to look at him, every detail of her past now released from the dark prison of her mind. She saw her mother and father, Edwina, Ivy, and little William, Dawn and Lynette, her friends from court, Queen Eleanor, King Richard, Radolf, his cousin, Kennard, Lady Anne, Sir Gunther, and, lastly . . . Hadwin.

"Oh God, Amery," she screamed, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly to her. "Ian murdered him! Tis because of my foolishness that Hadwin is dead!"

"Hush," he soothed, unable to keep the smile of happiness from parting his lips. Closing his eyes, he silently thanked God for bringing her back safely to him and vowed that he would never let anything happen to her again. He would make her his wife, and together they would live out their days at Wellington. Unmindful of those who watched, he bent, caught her up in his arms, and carried her toward the stairs. Mounting them two at a time, he effortlessly walked the distance to their chambers, kicked the door open, and went inside where he gently laid her down on the bed. But when he started to rise, Jewel entrapped the sleeve of his tunic in her grasp.

"Don't leave me," she wept, tears glistening in her eyes.

A bright smile sparkled in his own. "Only to close the door," he promised, taking her tiny hand to place a kiss upon her fingers. But when he tried to rise a second time, she sat up and quickly looped her arms around his neck, forcing him to sit down on the bed next to her.

"Nay, let them watch, for I do not care. I must feel your aims around me and know that I am safe."

Sensing that her need to be comforted was stronger than her
desire for privacy, Amery kicked off his boots and shifted his
weight until he could lean back against the headboard with
Jewel snuggled contentedly in his embrace. It took all the self-control he could muster not to turn her in his arms and kiss her
passionately. But Gunther's warning still rang sharply in his
ears.

"She doesn't know who you are," he had said, and from the baffled look in her eyes when first she had glanced up and seen him, he knew that it was true. Young Ella had been the one to change that. His brow furrowed and he wondered if the sight of Hadwin's murder had brought on the lapse in her memory. And where had she been all this time? Who had found her? A dozen questions whirled about in his brain, and he closed his eyes, trying not to think about them. Jewel needed to rest for awhile. Then they could talk. A vague smile crimped his mouth. And then he could tell her of his plans for them. He frowned again when he suddenly remembered that in two weeks' time he would have to return to London to meet his half brother on the battlefield. He wondered what Jewel's reaction would be. She had run away from him because she had not believed Radolf responsible for the death of her family. Now, by order of the dowager queen, a joust would be fought to determine who would be the lord of Wellington, and no matter who won, one man would die.

Jewel sighed softly in his arms, and when he glanced down at her, he saw that she had fallen asleep. The fire in the hearth was low and since he had decided that what they needed to discuss could wait, he tenderly and gently moved out from under her, made sure she was comfortable, covered her with a fur pelt, then crossed to the fireplace to add more logs. As he stared into the flames that quickly flared up from the glowing embers of the fire, he wondered if perhaps he should forget about telling her how he felt about her. Gunther was convinced she had fallen in love with her betrothed, and knowing that Amery cared for her as well might only make it more difficult for her should his half brother prove to be the better swordsman. A draft of cool air coming from the open doorway turned his attention in its direction, and he absently came to his feet, crossed the space to the door, and quietly closed it. The idea of Radolf winning the contest was ludicrous. Amery had always been the stronger of the two. He smiled lopsidedly and returned to the hearth, where he sat down in the chair before it. And now more than ever, he had something to prove. His gaze traveled across the room to the bed and the tiny figure lying in it. And he had a reason for living. He had Jewel. Feeling at peace for the first time in a long while and his tired body begging for rest, he closed his eyes, drifting off into a tranquil sleep almost immediately.

Only a few minutes passed before he was jolted awake by Jewel's cries for help. Bolting out of his chair, fists clenched and ready to fight whoever threatened her, he shook his head to clear his mind, wondering if he had dreamed it when he discovered the room was empty. But then she cried out again, whimpering softly, and he hurried to the bed to look down at her. Her eyes were closed and her face was twisted in a painful frown.

"Nay .. . don't kill him, Ian . .." she mumbled, her head rolling from side to side. "Trust no one . . . enemies ... seek out the Lord ... He will help . . ."

Knowing that Jewel's sleep was haunted with nightmares, Amery quickly sat down on the bed beside her and slowly drew her into his arms. "You're safe, Jewel," he whispered. "You're with me."

She came awake instantly, and the fear he saw in her eyes tore at his heart.

"No one will ever hurt you again. I swear that to you." He kissed her temple.

"I saw Ian kill Hadwin, Amery. 'Twas my fault—"

"Hush," he quickly interrupted. "Ian was sent here by Lady Edlyn and he would have killed anyone who stood in the way of his getting to you. But he's dead now, and you don't have to worry about him anymore."

"Dead?" she questioned, hope-filled eyes looking up at him.

"Yea," he vowed, smiling softly. Shifting, he held her closer to him, enjoying the warmth and gentle curves of her body pressed against him: "Where have you been?"

A thoughtful, confused look came over her face as she tried to recall her journey back to Burchard. "I'm not sure how I got here. I do remember two knights called Hube and Stanmore, and a maid, Celeste. They took me to see Ordella."

"The old woman in the village?" he exclaimed.

Jewel nodded her head. "I had no memory and they feared for my life. So Ordella hid me in her hut."

"My God," Amery moaned. "You've been right here under my nose all this time." He smiled at the irony of it. "Remind me to thank them for their help."

"I would like to do the same, Amery, but no one has seen any of them since the day they brought me here," she admitted. "'Tis why Ordella said we couldn't trust anyone—" She sat up suddenly when she recalled the old woman's dying words. "That's what she meant!" Jewel proclaimed excitedly.

"Who? What?"

"Ordella's last words to me were to seek out the lord. She meant Sir Gunther, but at the time I thought she was referring to God." Settling back in his embrace, she sighed. "If I had only understood, I might have spared him his shame."

"Who? Gunther?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yea, 'twas his sister, Mertice, who found me. Only she had no intention of taking me to the castle." She gave a short laugh. "She, too, wanted me dead."

"What?" he exploded, holding her at arm's length. "Why?"

Jewel smiled coquettishly at him. "Why, to have you all to herself, Amery. 'Twould seem thou art in demand."

"I am betrothed to you, Jewel," he growled, furious with the thought that the woman had planned to murder Jewel. "Everyone knows that."

The humor faded from her eyes, and her heart began to pound loudly in her chest. He had spoken with such conviction that she wondered if he had changed his mind about marrying her. She lowered her gaze before he could notice the surprised look in her eyes and question it. It was simply too much to hope for.

"I will see that she pays for her treachery," he snarled.

"There is no need, Amery. Gunther has already cast her from this place and denounced their kinship." Suddenly, his touch was more than she could bear. She had fallen in love with him and knew that her love would never be returned. Sliding to the edge of the bed, she rose and crossed to stand before the hearth. "There is still the matter of Harcourt and your claim of Radolf's guilt. Sir Ian's presence at Burchard would confirm your suspicions about Lady Edlyn, but what of your half brother? Hast thou found a solution?"

"Nay," he admitted, his eyes lovingly roaming over the
slender length of her as the firelight silhouetted the tapering
limbs beneath the skirt of her gunna. "But the dowager queen
has."

Jewel faced him, surprised by his announcement. "Thou hast spoken to her?"

He nodded as he rose and came to stand near her. "Yea, in two weeks time, Radolf and I will meet on the battlefield. Queen Eleanor has declared a joust to the death. The victor will claim Wellington, and Harcourt as well, since no lord rules there." He smiled softly at her. "But 'twas proclaimed when all thought thou were dead. She will repeal her decision that the gift of Harcourt be part of the prize."