Heart's Ransom (Heart and Soul) (4 page)

BOOK: Heart's Ransom (Heart and Soul)
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Another black cloak graced his shoulders, falling in voluminous folds and secured at his right shoulder with an elaborate knotwork broach.  The material was of the finest weave she had ever seen but she wondered why a man with his wealth would chose to dress entirely in sable.  It struck her as if he was in mourning but she had heard of no recent deaths befalling House Montgomery.

“My lady,” he said, inclining his head slightly.  “Dinner is being served in the hall.  Will you and your maid be joining us this eve?”

She nodded. 

He sighed, leaning his shoulder indolently against the frame.  Gwen realized that the expanse of fabric of his tunic and cloak did nothing to hide the mass of his shoulders and chest.  He seemed to appear even bigger than he had wearing armor.

“Lady Gwenillian--”

“Gwen, please, my lord.”

He arched an eyebrow.  “Talon.”

“Talon, can you not tell me what this is all about?”

For a brief instant, fury flashed red in his brown eyes, stunning her.  A muscle ticked in his jaw but the abrupt signs of rage vanished just as suddenly as they appeared, followed by an icy control that frightened her even more.

“As I said before, Gwen, my reasons are my own.  Rest assured you will not be harmed or mistreated in any way.  During the day you have free access to the castle and the inner bailey.  At night you and your maid will be locked in this room to dissuade any fool who might see a maiden in distress and seek free you.  I advise you not to go near the gates or try to flee Montgomery.  I have eyes everywhere and I am not known as a patient man.”

Anger at the enforced captivity sparked within her.  She lifted her chin.  “I do not understand this,” she said through clenched teeth.  “In all the years you and my father have vied against each other over your foolish male egos, never once have you acted without honorable conduct.”  She paused, her eyes narrowing.  “Unlike my own bastard sire who will change the rules of the game on a whim.  What has gotten into you with this scheme, Talon Montgomery?”

He blinked at her in surprise and Gwen silently counted a point in her favor.  But he quickly masked his shock and stepped forward slightly, bending his neck to look down at her.  Gwen suddenly realized his lips were scant inches from hers.

“Scheme, my lady?” he purred, his voice rich with silken seduction.  Shivers leapt over her skin as if he had caressed her.  She found her gaze locked on his and could not turn away.  It was as if he bewitched her and held her in thrall.

“Perhaps my scheme is to prevent you from suffering a fate worse than death.  Remember, I know Lord Fitzalans quite well.”

The mention of her betrothed’s name broke the spell and she turned away from him suddenly chilled to the core.  “Aye,” she said softly, rubbing her arms.  “I may detest being your prisoner but I’d much rather be here than being beaten into the vows awaiting me.”

“Beaten?” he asked softly and she heard him take a step forward.

“No matter,” she said but still refused to look at him. 

“You do not want this wedding?”

Her ire pricked again and she spun, almost plowing into his chest.  “You just said you know Fitzalans quite well.  You tell me, what woman in her right mind would want to be cursed with that ancient, withered, sodding, old...?” her voice faded.  For once she had run out of names.

Talon’s lips twitched and she realized he fought back a smile.  “Aye, lady, I agree with that summation.”

Suddenly an idea sparked within her, a way to discomfit her sodding father and to turn the tables on Montgomery.  “Talon, despite my earlier words, I know you to be an honorable man.  I have no desire to be married to a mossback such as Fitzalans.”  She took a deep breath and gently gripped his forearm.  “So I beg sanctuary, my lord, grant me the protection of Montgomery.”

He recoiled as if she had struck him.  “Sanctuary?” he whispered.

“Aye, sanctuary.  If you protect me, I won’t have to marry Fitzalans nor will I have to return to my father.”

His mouth twisted into a grim line.  “Lady, you seek sanctuary in the wrong place.  That is reserved for the House of God.  I do not wish to bring harm upon you but if your father does not heed me in this matter, you will pay the price of his foolishness.  Once my business with your father is completed to my satisfaction you will be returned to him forthwith.”  He spun on his heel and slammed the door behind him.  Leaving Gwen to stare at the oak wood, her mouth agape.

“You don’t understand, do you?” she whispered to herself.  “My father doesn’t care one whit about me.  If you have taken me for true leverage against him, you have indeed made a foolish error.  And I have never known you to play the fool, Talon Montgomery.”

Chapter Two

 

Days passed after Talon’s abduction of Lady Gwenillian.  Although tempted beyond human endurance to send a ransom note to Powys demanding Rose’s return, Talon somehow controlled himself, unwilling to tip his hand prematurely.  Finally, one of his spies reported from Powys.  Talon read the letter three times to make sure he understood the shocking news.

Powys and Fitzalans were at each other’s throats, each blaming the other for Gwen’s abduction.  Neither of them made any mention of suspicion pointing in Talon’s direction.  Under normal circumstances, Talon would have found it all a great jest.

“The fool sods wouldn’t see the truth if it bit them on their arses, Marcus,” Talon muttered, pacing the great hall.

“Aye,” Marcus said.  “One would think Powys would immediately suspect you.”

“Unless he does not have Rose.”  That thought chilled him even more.  If Powys did not have Rose, he was back to the beginning.  “I cannot send a ransom note now or Powys and Fitzalans will be knocking on my gates in force.”  He thought for a long moment, his hand tearing through his hair.  “Lady Gwen asked for sanctuary and as tempted as I am to grant it, if Powys has Rose, the exchange must be made.  Therefore, I cannot grant her the protection of Montgomery Castle.”

“Pray pardon, my lord, but if we keep the lady here and safe, Powys and Fitzalans will be off balance by suspecting each other.  We can continue searching for Rose.”

Talon nodded.  “Until we have more information that is the best we can do.”  He spun on his heel and called on Thomas to bring him his armor and saddle his horse.

 

****

 

A sennight turned into a fortnight since her arrival at Montgomery and Gwen was nearly at wits end.  Although granted free access to the keep and bailey she started to feel like a trapped animal.  She had nothing to do here, no duties, nothing to keep her mind from boredom and the inactivity began to frazzle her nerves. 

She thought Talon would be pleased with her.  She had not tried to escape, nor had she harassed him.  On the other hand, she had not seen much of him either.  Most days, the black clad earl led his men out of the gate at dawn and didn’t return until well after sunset.

But today Talon had remained at home.  Gwen sought him out, a servant telling her he was in the gardens.  She could not take any more of this.  Confinement never sat well with her.  It was a common ploy her father had used against her and she hated it.

She saw Talon standing in the middle of the gardens, once again dressed entirely in sable.  He stood with his back to her, tossing rocks into a tiny pool before him.  She scowled and observed him a moment.  His shoulders appeared slightly bowed, as if he was weary.  His head lowered, he gazed into the pool, but seemed as if he did not focus on it.  A muscle ticked in his jaw.  He wore his long hair loose, tumbling around his shoulders, gleaming golden in the sunlight.

She found herself admiring the various shades of brown, red, and gold, appearing as sunshine glowing through honey.  She cleared her throat and approached.

He turned quickly, scowling at her.  “My lady?”

“My lord,” she said and cocked her head, noting his body seemed to coil at her approach.  “I am sorry I disturbed you.”

“Is something amiss?”

She studied his face, beautiful in its artistry.  Even the Greek sculptors Brother Cedric had taught her about could never craft such perfection.  Certainly no mortal could ever have a hand in creating such beauty.  But why did he insist on wearing sable?  With his sun darkened skin, he wore the color well, except for his eyes.  For some reason black made his rich brown eyes look bleaker, stealing the depth of their colors.  For an instant Gwen wondered if he was one of God’s angels fallen from heaven, wearing black in grievance for being cursed to the mortal realm.

“My lady?” he prompted, his scowl deepening.

She shook herself, embarrassment creeping through her that she had allowed herself to be distracted.  “Uh...forgive me, my lord.  I...uh....”  Damnation, why was she suddenly so flustered?

He ran his hand through his hair then gave his head a slight leonine toss, sending the locks tumbling down his back.  Once again Gwen found herself painfully distracted; suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the entire world to fill her lungs.  Irritated she forced the strange feelings down.  “Talon, I must ask a boon of you.”

He arched an eyebrow, folding his powerful arms over his massive chest.

Gwen clenched her teeth.  Why did she note his every movement with absolute clarity?  “I...I have tried very hard to abide by the rules of your house and...err...your hospitality.”

A second eyebrow followed the first.  He quickly looked back to the pool but not before she saw a spark of amusement flash in his eyes.  He rubbed his jaw and Gwen abruptly realized he did it to cover the smile that played on his lips.  He took a deep breath and looked at her again, his humor gone.  “And?”

She almost growled at him.  He certainly wasn’t making this easy.  “Talon, I am going mad being cooped up in this castle.  I have nothing to do here.  At home I had duties, I used to do things for enjoyment, I used to go riding all the time.”

“Riding?”

She took a step toward him.  “I love riding, Talon.  I used to go almost every day, even if only for an hour or two.  Please, Talon, I need to get out for a short time.”

He shook his head harshly.  “It would not be wise--”

“Please, Talon.  I vow I will not try to escape.  You can send as many men as you want with me.  Accompany me yourself if you wish, I give you my oath I will abide any rule you set for me, but I must get out of this castle for a brief time before I lose my sanity.”

He stared at her, his expression unreadable but the muscle started ticking in his jaw again.

“Please, Talon,” she whispered, wishing it didn’t sound like she was begging.

Talon said nothing, staring at her with distrust.

Gwen growled an oath, clenching her fists, surprised when tears of anger clouded her vision.  “Why do I even bother to ask?” she turned on her heel, to stride angrily away, but her heart screamed.  If he didn’t grant her some sort of freedom she would indeed go mad.

A gentle hand gripped her shoulder and stopped her.  She blinked up at Talon in surprise.  His expression had not changed but his gaze seemed to stare into her soul.  “If I allow this, will you give me your oath you will not try to escape?”

Her jaw went slack and she nodded.  “I vow it,” she said softly.

“And you will heed me if I tell you to do something?”

“Aye.”

“No foolishness?  No trying my patience?”

“Nay, my lord.”

He thought for a long moment then again dragged his hand through his hair.  “Bloody daft,” he muttered.  “All right, Gwen, a short ride, but I and my knights will escort you and we will not go far from the castle.”

Happiness bubbled within her and she spontaneously wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.  “Oh thank you, Talon.”

His eyes widened and he stared at her awestruck.  Slowly he lifted his hand and touched his cheek where she had kissed him.

Gwen backed away, suddenly embarrassed again.

“I will gather the men and have the horses saddled,” he said after a tense silence.  “You’d best prepare yourself.”

She clapped her hands together; suddenly feeling like a little girl then sprinted into the keep.  But an idea occurred to her and instead of running for her room, she veered into the kitchens.  After speaking to the servants, she turned and bounded up the stairs to change.

 

****

 

Talon marveled at himself.  What in the hell had gotten into him?  He sighed, standing by his horse, with Gwen’s mount next to him.  He wore his mail, his horseman’s axe strapped to the battle harness, and his sword at his side.  His men also rode as if equipped for battle.  His destrier pawed the ground impatiently.

He touched his cheek, still able to feel Gwen’s lips against his skin.  Her reaction had astounded him.  In truth he felt sorry for the girl being used in petty politics.  He couldn’t blame her for feeling so confined.  But pain wrapped around his heart.  When she had clapped her hands, her eyes shining with joy, she had reminded him of Rose for the barest instant.

He kicked himself for agreeing to this.  Taking her outside the castle was dangerous.  He wanted to believe her oath but distrust remained within him.  Oaths aside, if anyone was searching for her and stumbled across them outside the walls....

Talon shook his head.  A short ride wouldn’t hurt and he had felt terrible seeing her disappointment when he first denied her.  Gwen was like no woman he had ever encountered.  She was active, vivacious, and...he grudgingly admitted...charming.

Gwen bounded out of the keep and down the stairs, with Marcus following.  Talon scowled, realizing Marcus carried a saddle pack.  Gwen managed to slow herself before reaching the horses in an effort not to spook them.

Her mare lifted her head, quickly spotting Gwen, and nickered.

“So, you missed me too,” she said patting the mare’s neck.

The mare tossed her head nickering again.

Talon watched the exchange curiously.

Marcus tied the bags to the back of Gwen’s saddle.

“What is this?” Talon asked with a scowl.

“Nothing important,” Gwen said, her emerald eyes glittering with mischief.

“Gwen, you gave me your oath.”

“No foolishness,” she said quickly and put her foot in the stirrup.  “Don’t worry Talon.”

Automatically he moved and gently gripped her sides, easily lifting her into the saddle before she had the chance to do so under her own power.  His breath caught at the feel of her narrow waist between his hands.  He lifted her as easily as he would have placed Rose atop her pony.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said startled.

Talon gazed at his hands for an instant, wondering why it felt as if he still held her.  “You are welcome,” he said absently, then mounted his own horse.

Giving the order to his men, they trotted out the gates, he and Gwen in the lead.

His mount settled into an easy pace, arching his neck and lifting his hooves high.  Talon scowled at the unusual behavior.  The black demon rarely did this unless he sensed a battle ahead.  Suddenly Talon realized the horse flaunted himself blatantly.

Talon rolled his eyes.  “Ebon, leave us some pride,” he growled.  The horse twitched his ears but otherwise ignored him.

“What was that?” Gwen asked.

“Nothing,” Talon snapped, disgusted at the fool creature.

“So, where do you like to go riding around here?”

Talon’s scowl deepened.  Did he see admiration in her eyes when she looked at him?  Nay, ‘twas foolish to think something like that.  He turned his attention to her question.  How long had it been since he had been out for something as simple as a pleasure ride?  Months?  A year?  The last time he could remember he had taken Rose for a ride on her pony and only because she had pleaded with him in much the same fashion as Gwen had, and when he finally relented, reacted the same way.

He inwardly groaned.  Gwen couldn’t have manipulated him better.  It was as if she had known his weakness.  Talon wondered if she somehow saw into his soul.

“Talon?” Gwen prompted.

“Below the motte there is a large meadow and a nice road.

“It sounds wonderful.”

Talon nodded curtly.  They reached the crossroads and he turned to the right, heading for the meadow.

The moment Gwen saw it, she released a breathy sigh.  “It’s perfect.”

He couldn’t help it as his lips tugged upward.

Gwen’s mare pricked her ears and lifted her head, her pace quickening.

Gwen laughed.  “All right, Cinnamon.”

Talon frowned.  “What is it?”

“Race you to the tree-line.”

“Gwen--”

But before he could say anything more, she thumped her heels into the mare’s sides.  The horse squealed and launched herself forward.

“Damnation, Gwen!” Talon roared, driving his spurs into his stallion.  “Stop at once!”

But Gwen’s mare flattened herself and ran with all her heart.  Gwen stood in her stirrups, riding easily, her black hair streaming out behind her.  Talon heard her joyous laugh as his stallion closed the distance.

“Gwen, stop!  It is not safe.”

To his horror she dropped the reins and held her arms out as if she was flying.  Dear God, she would get herself killed like that.  He asked for more speed from his stallion.

The war horse drew alongside and just as Talon reached for the reins; they arrived at the tree-line.  Gwen sat back and settled in her saddle.  Without her touching the reins, the mare sat on her haunches and slid to a stop.  Talon flew past her.

He cursed as his stallion also shifted his weight to stop, almost sending him over his head.  Thank God he had kept his weight in his heels.  The stallion’s hooves plowed furrows into the ground as they came to a halt.

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