Heart of the Flame (16 page)

"And what do you think?"

"I think his children will be very special, and I am honored to be the woman to carry them and raise them. To love them, as I so adore their father."

She smiled at Haven, and might have said more if not for the sudden complaint of a rooster who had been pecking at some grit as they drew near. The strutting cock flapped his wings, then suddenly darted beneath a cart at their approach.

And, farther along the path, came the commotion rising from a number of fowl. The cacophony grew more frenzied as the women approached the squat little building that housed the hens.

Nervous fluttering and the clucking of dozens of birds continued as Ariana unhooked the latch and opened the door. Haven stood just behind her.

"Something certainly has them upset," Ariana remarked over her shoulder as she ducked beneath the low eave of the henhouse door. "Have a care when you enter, Haven. There is a dip just on the inside of the door. I should hate for you to lose your footing and hurt yourself."

To Haven's mind, the hens seemed due more caution than the worn earth of their coop's floor. Clearly agitated, most of the score-and-a-half birds had already scuttled off their nests as Ariana then Haven stepped inside. Feathers and dust stirred as the gaggle ran hither and yon inside the cramped coop, complaining loudly. Wings flapped, beady eyes darted in alarm, and the din of clucking and crowing amplified toward a state of wild panic.

"Whatever is the matter in here?" Ariana mused aloud. "They hardly get so agitated if one of the cats manages to sneak into the coop."

She shooed a large speckled hen out of her way, then turned back to motion Haven farther inside. The coop was low-ceilinged and dim. What scant light filtered in through the roof's wooden slats was swimming with dust motes from the continued beating of the earth floor as taloned feet scratched and scuttled in a dance of anxious upset. The chaos within worsened by the moment, the noise building to almost deafening heights.

"Good lord, what a queer mood they're in!" Ariana exclaimed. "Hand me your basket, Haven. I'll collect what we need."

Haven reached out to give her the small container, and as she did so, one of the few birds remaining on its nest suddenly launched into the air, screeching. Heavy, graceless wings beat in a panic as it flew at the women.

Haven saw the bird coming and quickly drew Ariana aside. The hen's sharp claws caught in Haven's hair and raked her cheek. She brought her arm up to shield her face and eyes, for the bird was in a blind fury, pecking and attacking wherever it could.

"Watch out!" Ariana cried from behind her. "Haven, come. Let's get out of here now!"

Ariana's advice was sound, but a fraction too late. Before Haven realized what she was doing, she drew the slim dagger from Ariana's girdle sheath. Snatching the feral bird by the leg as it came at her face again, Haven flipped the dagger in her hand and slew the hen in an instant, sticking the dagger into the plump breast of the creature. She tossed down the unmoving carcass and backed toward the door where Ariana waited. The remaining hens continued their chatter and fluttering, but a wariness had settled over the coop with the slaughter of the one.

The door to the henhouse flew open behind the women, spilling light from the bailey into the cramped confines of the outbuilding.

"What the devil is going on in here?"

Kenrick of Clairmont's voice boomed over the din of the nervous birds and sent them scattering to the corners of the coop. His sharp blue gaze lit on his sister's stricken face, then settled on Haven.

"Jesu! Your face is scratched bloody--and your arm. What just happened?"

"Th-the hens," Ariana stammered. "Something upset them, and they tried to attack us. Poor Haven took the brunt of it. Had she not pushed me out of the way, no doubt we would both be standing here thrashed and bleeding."

"Are you all right?"

At Kenrick's low query, Haven glanced up and met his eyes. She nodded, uncomfortable with his gentle regard. "I didn't mean to kill the animal. I reacted...on instinct, I suppose. Before I had the chance to know what I was doing."

He exhaled an oath. "The bird means nothing. Thank the saints you have such instincts, my lady. I know a few Templars who would envy the accuracy and speed of your battle wits."

Was he teasing her? Haven felt certain he was, but she knew not what to make of him. Although he made light with his jest, his expression was one of total seriousness and concern. Scowling, he looked to the angry welts on her arm.

"You need care for those. And for your face." He touched her cheek with the pad of his thumb, an unexpected gesture of tenderness that took her aback. His finger came away from her face stained with a bright smudge of red from cuts of the bird's sharp talons. "You're certain you are all right?"

"Yes," she replied, unable to speak in anything more than a whisper when the warmth of his touch still lingered on her skin.

Faith preserve her, but the man's very presence rendered her nearly incapable of thought much less speech. It was a decidedly uncomfortable feeling, to be so aware, so physically affected. She inched slightly away from him, averting her gaze from the potent intensity of his blue eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Haven," Ariana said, taking her hand. "I truly don't know what might have caused this, but I feel simply terrible that you were hurt."

"As do I," Kenrick added. "I shall have to think of a way to make it up to you."

"That won't be necessary," Haven said. "'Tis just a few scratches. I am fine."

Ariana arched a quizzical brow at her brother, but spoke instead to Haven. "Come along now, and let's look after your cuts."

With a nod of agreement, Haven allowed herself to be led away from the livestock area and back toward the tower keep. She could still feel Kenrick's gaze on her as she departed, the power of his stare warming her every step across the wide courtyard. She should have ignored the sensation, but she could not prevent her head from turning slightly, just enough to cast a surreptitious look over her shoulder to where he stood.

"He has been watching you for days, you know."

Haven quickly turned away and shot an uncomfortable glance at Ariana. "Aye, he watches me like a hawk trained on its prey."

"Nay," the lady countered, a warm smile playing upon her lips. "He watches you like a man watches a woman. His interest is obvious, though I somehow doubt he would admit it."

"I am sure I wouldn't know."

"Well, I would. I have seen the look often enough to recognize it."

Some of the warmth Haven knew began to cool when she considered how many other ladies Ariana's handsome brother might have charmed with his strong, golden appeal and swaggering confidence. To her chagrin, she could not help asking. "Just how often have you seen it in him?"

"In Kenrick?" Ariana gave an amused laugh. "Oh, never."

Haven turned a frown on her, confused.

"I have never seen such a look in my brother, but I have seen it aplenty in my lord husband." She patted her stomach and gave a sidelong wink as she guided Haven into the cool shade of the castle. "After all," she said, her voice lowered to a private whisper, "how do you imagine I find myself in this happy state?"

Chapter 14

Although the day's trip had given him a new direction to explore with regard to the Chalice treasure, Kenrick found his thoughts occupied with other things. He had finished up in the stables alone, for once Braedon learned of the incident in the henhouse, there was little to keep the warrior from heading to the castle chambers to make sure firsthand that Ariana had not been injured.

As for Kenrick, once divested of armor and riding gear, his own path inside the keep ended at Haven's door. He knocked lightly, and was greeted by the round, wimple-framed face of a servant girl as the panel opened.

"I've come to see about the lady Haven. Is she within?"

"Aye, milord. She's here."

The maid dipped her chin and stepped aside for him to enter. Behind her several paces, seated in a chair beside the fireplace, was Haven. A basin of herbed water steamed atop a pedestal table next to her, carrying the scent of lavender and sage across the chamber.

"Do I interrupt?" he asked.

She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. "Mary was just assisting me in cleaning up my scratches. We were nearly finished."

Kenrick stepped farther into the room and turned to the maid. "Allow me, if you will."

"Milord?" Mary blurted, gaping at him as if he had just announced he meant to take up embroidery.

"I wish to make amends for the bad manners of my livestock," he said as he took the damp cloth from the girl's slack fingers. He saw Haven's slight smile and offered a further apology. "Perhaps I wish to make up for some of my own bad manners as well."

"Thank you, Mary," Haven said as the girl made a hasty and thoroughly befuddled exit.

"I trust you are not too shaken from what happened outside today."

She shrugged in dismissal. "I'm fine. Just a few scrapes, nothing more."
"Good." He strode to the basin and dipped the swatch of linen into the warm water. "You may have your revenge tonight at supper. I've told the cook to add one surly hen to his famed dressed capons."

Haven laughed, a rare sound that warmed Kenrick as fire itself. It drew him nearer as he wrung out the cloth. To his regret, her humor faded a bit as he hunkered down beside her, one knee on the floor. She gave him a look somewhere between humiliation and disdain. "This is not necessary, truly."

"On the contrary," he told her with mock sternness. "'Tis entirely necessary."

Brooking no argument, he carefully reached out and took her hand in his.

Her skin was warm and soft as feather down against the sun-browned roughness of his fingers. He turned her palm over and rested it in the cradle of his hand as he gingerly swabbed at the angry red scratches crisscrossing the inside of her forearm.

"Your servants will think you mad when Mary tells them their noble lord is in here mopping up my scant abrasions."

Kenrick wiped away a thin smudge of dried blood and grinned up at her. "The servants already think me mad. Have you not heard them whispering about my strange habits? The odd hours I keep? About how I am known to disappear into my chambers for days--even a sennight at a time--to scribble in my journals and ledgers?" He shrugged, looking back down at the ivory elegance of the hand ensconced in his. "This--ah, lady, this is easily the least mad thing they've ever seen me do."

"So, is it true, my lord?" she asked after a long moment. "Are you bedeviled?"

Kenrick smoothed the swatch of linen across her delicate wrist, scarcely able to resist placing his lips against the fluttering pulse that beat there. Her abrasions were cleansed, but yet he held her hand, unwilling to release her. He glanced up and met her uncertain emerald gaze.

"Am I bedeviled?" he said, so low it might have been a growl. "Aye, my lady. Lately more and more."

He spread his fingers and wove them between hers, catching her more firmly. She did not try to pull away. Nay, she held him as he did her, their hands joined and locked, her thumb idly stroking his.

"Whether you are in or out of my sight, Haven, you affect me deeply."

He drew her closer, nearly edging her off the chair.

"Kenrick." She looked down at their joined hands and gave a small shake of her head. "We should not. This would be..."

He rose up on his knees before her. The slightest flex of his arm brought her to the very edge of the chair. With only the barest guidance, he lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to the soft skin of her knuckles. Haven's lips parted on a thready wisp of a sigh.

"What would this be?" he murmured against her velvety fingers. Heaven, he thought, permitting his tongue to taste the sensual cleavage between her thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, faith," she whispered. "'Twould be a mistake...if we...if we--"

It was a weak protest when her lip was now caught between her teeth, her eyes gone as dark and dusky as a twilight meadow.

He pulled her easily into his arms and silenced her with a kiss.

Where he had expected a virginal tentativeness, a reluctant hesitance, he instead found melting, heated fire. He filled his hands with the delicacy of her face and neck, splaying his fingers through the heavy mass of her hair. The light perfume of the herbal water mingled with the warm, womanly scent of her skin.

Kenrick breathed her in, feasting on the headiness of her allure like a drunkard gone too long without wine. It was an apt comparison, for long had he denied himself such an indulgence. Too long, if a mere kiss could render him so lost.

But it was not as simple as that. He could not blame this feeling on deprivation or basic physical need.

Haven was his intoxication.

He needed only see her to be intrigued. Her strange beauty, her sharp wit and fiery manner--all of it conspired to bewitch him. She challenged him on many levels, her uncommon frankness as engaging as her secrets and the murkiness of her past. She was mystery and contradiction, and she was seducing him with her very presence under his roof.