Gentle Warrior (7 page)

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Authors: Julie Garwood

Tags: #Historical Romance, #Adult

BOOK: Gentle Warrior
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He wasn't aware that he stroked the dogs leaning against his sides as he watched Elizabeth.

"Begin by telling me why you did not stay inside the walls. Why did you come back here?"

"I could not stay there with Belwain coming, I could not." Elizabeth calmed her voice and walked over to stand between Geoffrey's legs. She folded her hands as if she was preparing for her morning prayers and said, "It is a long story, my lord. Will you listen to me?"

"Aye," Geoffrey replied. He was eager to hear her tale, to understand what had transpired at Montwright.

"My parents, my sisters, one of their husbands… all killed," she whispered. "And Belwain, my father's younger brother… he is to blame. He must be punished."

"From the beginning, Elizabeth," Geoffrey encouraged in a gentle tone. "Tell me what you saw, what you heard."

Elizabeth nodded and took a deep breath. "I did not see them arrive. Little Thomas and I were out riding when it began. The family had gathered to celebrate my little brother's birthday. It was a tradition," she explained.

Geoffrey nodded and then realized that she was looking right through him, didn't seem to notice his encouraging gesture at all. Memory had control of her mind now, and from the torment etching her features,

Geoffrey knew a chilling account was about to be told. He wanted to gather her in his arms, to hold her and offer comfort, but he sensed she would not accept his compassion from the way she held herself erect. Memory was taking her to hell's nightmares, and all he could do was listen.

"My eldest sister, Catherine, and her husband, Bernard, came all the way from his holding near Granbury, but Rupert, ailing from liver upset, could not attend. He allowed Margaret to come, though… Oh, God, but if he had not been so agreeable! She would still be alive."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, a calmness settling over her features. She told the rest in a flat, emotionless voice. "Thomas and I came in through the side entrance, intent on changing our clothes before our mother caught sight of us, for we were covered with mud. There is a stairwell, well hidden from the great hall, with a tapestry hung over the door on the second landing. As I neared the top I could hear screams and shouts. I knew then something was wrong. I made Thomas stay on the steps and opened the door. No one saw me, but I could see everything from my position. There were bodies, dead, mutilated bodies, strewn about the floor like so many soiled rushes. Those doing the killing were dressed as peasants but they wielded their swords like trained soldiers. Several of the men wore black hoods to conceal their faces. I tried to find the one in charge when I caught sight of my sister Margaret. I saw her stab one of the men in his shoulder, and then run toward our mother. The man she injured followed her and plunged his knife into her back, and Margaret went down. I felt little Thomas against my side then, and turned to shield him from the view and to find safety for him. One of the attackers, his voice was somehow familiar to me even then, called the order to find the boy. 'Find the boy or we fail,' that is what he screamed, and I knew they meant to kill little Thomas. I had to protect him. He was now heir… I couldn't help my mother, but I couldn't seem to move either. It was as if I was frozen in place. I just kept watching her. They were tearing at her clothes. My mother's clothes! She broke away and raked her nails against the face of one of her captors. He screamed with pain and then the one who had killed Margaret… he came up to my mother with an ax in his hand. He raised it high into the air and the blade came down, down and across her neck, and her head, her head was torn from her body!"

She had never said the words until now. She wanted to crumble to the earth and die. The pain was so intense, the screams of her family so agonizing, so deafening, that she involuntarily placed her hands over her ears.

Geoffrey did not say a word. He gently reached out and pulled her hands from her face and held them.

His action helped Elizabeth gain control. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and saw the compassion in his eyes. "I don't remember much after that. I took Thomas back down the stairway and we stayed there until Joseph found us and took us to the outside. We sent word to Bernard's relatives and to Rupert."

Geoffrey pulled Elizabeth toward him, wrapping his strong arms around her. He wanted to erase the horror but knew that wasn't possible. "Did you recognize any of the men?" he asked.

"No, but the man Margaret stabbed… his voice was familiar to me," Elizabeth suddenly remembered. "Blood covered his garb."

"What of the other men? Did you know any of them?"

"No," Elizabeth replied, her shoulders sagging.

"Your servant told me that you sent your brother to London. Why?" he asked after a time.

"I did not know what else to do," Elizabeth said. "The law would give Belwain guardianship and I thought you old and senile. And I had no proof that it was Belwain behind the deed. My mother's father lives in London and I thought to keep my brother safe with him until I could find the proof… or kill Belwain myself," she said.

"Tell me your reasons for believing Belwain is responsible," Geoffrey said.

"He is the only one to gain," Elizabeth began. "He was my father's younger brother and lusted after Montwright. Father gave him a portion of the land for his own but Belwain was not content. Still, my mother told me Belwain used to be a merry man until little Thomas was born, then the relationship changed with my father. I do not know if that is so, for I was too young to pay much notice. I do know that last time my uncle visited my father they had a terrible argument and Belwain said he would never return to Montwright land. He threatened my father and I remember being frightened by his words, but my father seemed unaffected. I heard him tell my mother that Belwain's temper would calm and he would become content once again."

Elizabeth pulled her hands free of Geoffrey's hold and said, "Belwain would inherit the Montwright lands if we were all dead, wouldn't he?"

"Aye," Geoffrey acknowledged. "But you are not all dead," he reminded her.

"This same law gives Belwain guardianship of little Thomas, does it not?"

"That is so," Geoffrey replied.

"And if you give my brother over to his care, he will kill him," she predicted. "And me also," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"You will not be given into his care," Geoffrey stated.

"Then you believe me?" Elizabeth asked, her voice hopeful. "You will kill Belwain?"

"I believe that you think Belwain responsible," Geoffrey hedged, "and he has the greatest to gain, but I need proof before I challenge him."

"Proof! There is no proof," Elizabeth all but screamed. She pushed away from Geoffrey and added, "Belwain will not go free. He must pay for what he has done. I will kill him."

"If Belwain is responsible, I will kill him," Geoffrey said. "When he arrives at Montwright, I will question him."

"And you think he will admit his sins?" Elizabeth asked in a desperate voice. "He will lie."

"Lies can trap," Geoffrey returned. "I will find who is behind the deed and I will determine the punishment. It is my responsibility."

"Will you give me your word that Belwain will not become guardian to Thomas?" Elizabeth asked.

"If Belwain is innocent of your charges, I could not break the law," Geoffrey stated.

"Thomas would be placed under his guardianship.
If
he is innocent."

Elizabeth took a step back, shaking her head. "You are overlord to Montwright lands, and now that my father is dead, little Thomas is your vassal. It is your duty to protect him!"

"Do not tell me my responsibilities," Geoffrey barked. He stood up and unconsciously put his hands on his hips. "I know them well enough. Until I know the truth in this matter your brother will stay with me." His voice gentled as he added, "Trust me, Elizabeth. I will not let any harm come to the lad."

Elizabeth wanted to believe him. While he had not promised to charge her uncle immediately, he did state that he would keep her brother safe for the time being. It would have to be enough. At least Geoffrey had listened to her and had not pushed her accusations aside.

If he decided Belwain innocent, then Elizabeth would take matters into her own hands.

"Come, Elizabeth. The hour grows late. We will talk of this when we are within the manor."

"I need not be there when you question Belwain," Elizabeth argued. "And I have no wish to look upon his evil face. No," she continued, ignoring the anger she read on his face, "I will stay here until Belwain has been-"

The roar interrupted Elizabeth 's sentence. In one swift action the lord lifted her high up into his arms. The dogs began to growl but the warrior ignored them as he turned and started back toward the waterfall.

God, but she was a stubborn bit of goods, Geoffrey thought with irritation. She seemed to have absolutely no fear whatsoever of her master, and that both amused and angered the knight. He wasn't used to such brashness. And yet, he reasoned, he did not wish her to cower in his presence. She confused him, he admitted, confused… and delighted him. Still, he would have to do something about her disposition, her inclination to argue. She would have to learn her place, her lot. He couldn't very well present her to William until she learned to curb her tongue. While William's opinion did not rule Geoffrey's life, he admitted that he did not wish his king to think Geoffrey's wife was but a shrew! Wife! Aye, he told himself, she would be his wife. There could be no other way to keep her with him. It would be a grave insult to the late vassal, Elizabeth 's father, if he took Elizabeth as mistress. Thomas was a loyal and honest man; Geoffrey could not shame his memory by soiling his daughter and then casting her aside.

I do this for Thomas, Geoffrey found himself thinking. He did not think that he loved Elizabeth, for he did not think he could love any woman. Past betrayal had sealed his heart against such vulnerability. Yet the fates had decreed, from the moment he sighted her on the rise above the manor before the battle, that they be together. He did not understand why he wanted her at his side, why she had come to mean such a great deal to him in such a short time, but he would follow his inclinations. Perhaps it was all superstition on his part and she was his talisman. He did not know and did not care.

Besides, it was time, he almost said aloud. Time for the begetting of sons.

"Put me down, my lord," Elizabeth ordered for the third time. She saw that the scar on the side of his cheek had grown quite red and decided that she had overstepped her position.

"Please," she amended in a soft voice. "I have my horse and my possessions to gather."

"Tomorrow your servant can fetch your things."

What a stubborn, unbending man Lord Geoffrey was, Elizabeth thought. Odd, but she found she wasn't upset any longer. A deep faith that he would right the wrongs to her family made her content for the moment.

They did not speak again until they were well on their way back to the manor. Elizabeth sat in front of the lord on his powerful charger and could not help but lean against him as they rode through the forest at a neck-breaking pace.

"Do you know what you will do with me? Where you will send me?" Elizabeth asked, thinking that she would like to stay near her brother.

"Aye," Geoffrey replied in a rough voice. He was trying to concentrate on getting them to safety, his senses alert, but Elizabeth 's nearness was unsettling. From the moment he had lifted her into his arms, a sense of well-being, of calmness, invaded the warrior. It was as if he could breathe again, and she was the fresh air he needed to survive. He tightened his hold, pleased when she did not protest. The top of her head was nestled just under his chin, and the knight found it a hard task not to rub his cheek against the softness of her golden hair.

Elizabeth waited for what seemed an eternity for Lord Geoffrey to continue, but the lord seemed disinclined.

"My father had signed a marriage contract when I was just a babe," Elizabeth finally said,

"but Hugh, the man I was to marry, died two years past. I do not know if another was arranged," she added. Perhaps Geoffrey could tell her, for Thomas would have to gain his permission for any marriage contract to be valid. It was the law.

"There will be no marriage contract," Geoffrey stated with finality.

"I will not be married?" Elizabeth asked with surprise.

"Yes, you shall be married," Geoffrey said. "To me."

Had not Geoffrey been holding her secure, Elizabeth would have fallen off the horse. She twisted around until she could look him directly in the face, and blurted the first thing that came to her confused mind. "Why?"

The lord did not answer, and from the hard line of his jaw Elizabeth surmised he would not tell her any more.

She turned back and stared straight ahead. Montwright came into view as they rounded the water's bend, and fear twisted her stomach into knots. She found herself clutching Geoffrey's hands but could not let go. Belwain and his men might well be waiting inside.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Nothing can ever be as it was, she lamented. Her parents and sisters were dead, and now she was solely responsible for keeping little Thomas safe. She had no one to turn to, no one to champion her cause, save this stubborn, battle-scarred lord. Would he be strong enough, cunning enough to keep them safe?

Chapter Three

The wedding would be today!

Elizabeth could not understand the reason for the hurry, yet she was powerless to stop the proceedings. The lord's mind was made up. And her demands for an explanation were completely ignored. It was as if Geoffrey was in a race against time, and he must be married by nightfall. It made absolutely no sense to Elizabeth.

Geoffrey lifted her off the horse and carried her into the castle, like so much baggage, up the curving staircase and into her bedroom before she could catch her breath.

"I wish to see my brother," she demanded against his neck, but the warrior refused with a shake of his head. God but he was stubborn!

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