Heart's Ransom (Heart and Soul) (8 page)

“Out!” Talon snapped, pointing to the door.

The cowed hound turned and scurried away.

Talon, his chest heaving as he battled to catch his breath, spun and faced Gwen.  Her eyes were wide, her face pallid, and her entire body trembled.

“What the hell is going on?” he growled between clenched teeth.

Then he saw a small ball of fur move in her arms.  A tiny pup with golden eyes, and a coat mixed with gray and brindle whined pitifully.

“I....”  Gwen’s voice cracked and she swallowed hard.  “I saw the wolfhound chasing this pup.  It screamed and cried, Talon.  I could not bear to see it killed.  I tried to call the dog off but it refused to listen and chased the pup in here.  That’s when you came in.  I never imagined the dog would attack me.”

Talon cursed softly.  “It’s a hunting dog, Gwen; it will attack anything that gets between it and its prey except for me and the master of hounds.”

“I’m sorry, Talon...but it was going to kill this pup.”

He scowled and looked at the tiny creature more closely.  “Sweet Jesu, Gwen, it’s not one of mine.”

She held it up; it was gaunt, nearly starved.  “I think it’s a stray that wandered in.  It’s only about six weeks.  Its mother’s probably dead and all it wanted was food.”

“Good Lord, Gwen, don’t you have the sense God gave a goose?  It’s a worthless mutt.”

“So?”  She looked down at the creature.  “It’s starving, Talon.”

“Gwen, I have more dogs than I need in Montgomery, and they are much finer than a stray mutt.”  He reached for it.  “Give it to me and I’ll have the master of hounds take care of it.”

“Take care of it?”

“Drown the damn thing in the river.”

“Nay!” she cried recoiling from him.  “You will do no such thing.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!  If you want a pup so badly I’ll have the master of hounds give you one.  There is absolutely no reason to have a cur fouling the bloodlines.”

“I’m not going allow you to kill it.” 

He snarled, dragging his hand through his hair. 

“Talon, please,” Gwen whispered, her voice shaking.  “You can’t kill it.  I don’t care if it’s a mutt.  It’s only a baby.”

He stared at her liquid eyes, denial on his lips.

“Please.”

How could he tell her no when she had just thrown herself in front of a giant wolfhound to save the pitiful creature?  He snarled in frustration, pacing.  “All right,” he snapped.  “It’s your responsibility.  But I warn you, if the thing gets underfoot, I will end its pathetic life.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she gazed at him with joy in her eyes.  “Thank you, Talon,” she whispered.

His anger vanished instantly, replaced by surprise.  How could something so simple as granting her a wretched stray mongrel make her so happy?

She gazed up at him unflinchingly and suddenly the fire within Talon roared to life.

He stepped forward until he was only inches away from Gwen.  She pressed against the wall, staring up at him wide-eyed.

Beautiful emerald eyes that fairly glowed.

“But only this once, my lady,” he said as an afterthought.  “I’ll not have you adopting every stray you come across.”

Color stained her cheeks.  Talon could not help but notice it was just as true as a red rose, the silk of her skin as soft as petals.

Talon stepped even closer although he willed his body not to move.  Panic flitted across her expression and her body coiled as if about to flee.  He placed his hand on the wall beside her head, his arm blocking her escape.  Her sweet scent mixed with a soft perfume of roses assailed him and he drew it deeply into her lungs.  It seemed to both madden and calm him.  His body suddenly came alive, every nerve awake, every sense focused on her.  She gazed up at him, her eyes liquid.

“I...won’t take in any more strays, Talon.”

“Aye.”  He continued to gaze at her, watching in bemused fascination as her throat muscles worked convulsively.

“Is...is there something wrong, my lord?”

“Nay.”  He could not resist her siren’s call as he reached out and lightly traced his fingertips over her soft cheek.

Gwen closed her eyes and shivered, her tongue darting out to dampen her lips.  Talon lost himself to her innocent seduction.  His body roaring with desire, his muscles trembling, and need pounding through the very core of his being, he slowly moved his fingers to her chin and tilted her head up.  Lightly he brushed his lips over hers once then twice.  He heard a tiny gasp escape her and crushed his mouth against hers.

She stiffened in surprise, pressing herself more firmly against the wall.  Talon’s body ignited with a primal fire he had never experienced before.  Her lips were drugging, her scent intoxicating, and the feel of her under his hand more than he could bear.  He traced his tongue lightly over her bottom lip and she instinctively opened her mouth.  Talon swept inside, savoring the honeyed heat of her mouth, the wondrous sensation of her body relaxing, and molding against his.

Desire pooled deep in his loins, quickening his body.  Suddenly they both had on too many clothes.  His hands traveled her face, moving to the silk of her hair, his fingers loosening the plaits.  Dear God in heaven, never had he wanted to make love to a woman so badly.

Suddenly he ended the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  The pounding in his skull increased tenfold with his unreleased lust.  Saints have mercy, what was he doing?  He blinked down at her, struggling to refocus his vision.  Never in his life had he felt such a thing, never had he so completely lost control.

Gwen gazed up at him, stunned, her lips reddened from his kiss.  Talon battled the fiend she had loosed within him but he could not make himself move away.

****

Gwen had never been kissed by a man and the encounter left her breathless and shaking.  She suddenly felt as if her stomach had flipped over and her heart was now located in her throat.  The glorious sensations rioting within her were terrifying and wonderful at the same time.  A strange energy seemed to flow between them, as if an approaching lightning storm charged the air.

She marveled at the power yet tenderness of his kiss.  Talon was not a man who took no
for an answer but she knew instinctively he would never force her.  She gazed up at him, absorbing every detail of his handsome face, the strong jaw, the elegant sweep of his cheekbone, the beautiful browns and golds in his eyes.  His lashes lowered, the pupils in his eyes large, giving him a hooded, seductive look.  But she saw too clearly the worry lines and the dark shadows around his eyes.  Something was causing him great pain.  Her brow furrowed in concern and she reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand.

His reaction startled her.  For a brief instant he leaned slightly toward her hand, squeezing his eyes closed.  His shoulders relaxed as if they could no longer bear the burden upon them.  The pain of his expression became more evident.  Gwen knew all he longed for was an end to his torture, to somehow find peace from whatever demon tormented his soul. 

Her heart twisted painfully.  What caused him such agony?  Something was afoot at Montgomery Castle but she did not know what.  The servants were very quick to stop their gossip if she entered a room.  But she had heard mention that Talon wasn’t sleeping; instead he stalked the ramparts at night, trying to find peace from his ghosts.

She wished her touch, her embrace, could shelter him even if only for a moment.  Her fingers lightly traveled over his face and Talon shivered.  He started to turn his head toward her hand, as if to kiss it. 

“Talon, what causes this pain within you?”

His eyes flew open and he hauled himself back.  Gwen cursed herself for speaking and breaking the wondrous spell between them.  He retreated a step, staring at her with such shock in his expression that Gwen briefly wondered if her hair had suddenly turned green.

He continued to gaze at her, his hand touching his cheek as if he could still feel her fingers.  She morosely thought that perhaps now she had turned into a monster with fangs and huge claws.  Talon spun on his heel and walked rapidly from the stable, his chainmail hauberk slapping against his mail clad thighs.  She heard him call his men to order. 

Gwen quickly followed, his odd behavior worrisome.  But before she could reach the men, Talon and the others galloped out of the gates.

“What the devil is going on around here?” Gwen muttered.  The pup grunted and she adjusted it in her arms.  One way or another she was going to find out.

Unfortunately, Gwen found the servants and staff entirely too closed mouthed.  Normally gossip resounded within a keep but this time the servants acted as if their lord was the devil incarnate and held damnation over their heads.  Gwen tried cajoling and even bribery but nothing worked.  By evening, she was no closer to the answer than she had been that morning.

Weary and disheartened, she sat next to Alys at the table in the great hall and sighed.  “I can find out nothing.”

“Nor can I, my lady.  ‘Tis the strangest thing.  The lord abducts us but has not sent a ransom note.  Neither your father nor your betrothed have searched for us.  Something is brewing
here but I know not what it is.”

“I don’t either, but whatever it is, it is tearing Talon apart from the inside.”

“My lady?”

“This morning...I saw such pain within him.”  She shivered and rubbed her arms.  “I fear something is driving our self-appointed guardian mad with grief.”

A sennight passed, Gwen’s pup, which she named Mince, turned into a butterball overnight and started to grow like a bad weed.  He trailed after her faithfully except when she entered the great hall and Samson, leading the other hounds, drove it outside yelping.  Gwen would screech and curse at the larger hounds but unless Talon barked a command, Samson tormented the smaller creature.  At least he no longer tried to kill it, but would not stand for it competing for table scraps.

Because of that Gwen doted on the pup.  Too easily she could identify with being the runt of the litter.  One evening she entered the great hall, carrying Mince so Samson wouldn’t chase him.  She sat in her chair, with the pup in her lap.

Talon stood by the hearth, speaking to Marcus and his men.  Samson curled beside his feet, snoozing.

The moment Gwen sat down, Samson opened his eyes then rose, snarling at her.  For an instant blind terror cut through her as she remembered the dog’s teeth snapping closed inches from her face.

Talon spun, rage twisting his features.  “Samson, out!”  For a moment, Gwen thought he would cuff the dog but Samson cowed and scurried away.

Talon looked at her and shook his head.  He approached, gazing down at Mince.  “’Tis one thing if he growls at this pitiful mongrel but I’ll not have him doing it to you.”  He crouched next to her, studying the dog.  He touched the pup’s head then lifted its chin, examining it.  Then he gripped its paw, much too large for its body, and studied it just as intently.  Despite his harsh words about it being a mutt, his touch was sure and gentle.  “You know something, Gwen; I think if this keeps up, Samson is going to get himself in trouble shortly.”

“What do you mean?”

“With you tending the animal it seems to be coming into its true growth.  I have a feeling Mince will be a very inappropriate name.  Samson may find this dog staring him in the eye one day and not so easy to spook.”

Gwen chuckled, scratching the pup’s ears.  “We will just have to wait and see.”  Mince whined and she put him on the floor.  He trotted over to the door and scratched.  A young page opened it and the pup went outside.

But Talon remained crouched by her side.

Gwen swallowed hard as his gaze again locked on hers; the memory of their kiss in the barn surged forward.  Her breath caught in her throat and butterflies rioted in her stomach.  For an instant Talon’s eyes narrowed, glowing with a rich amber fire.  She briefly wondered if she had dreamed the encounter.  She almost wished he would kiss her again so she could determine if it was real.

A blush ignited her cheeks as she realized how absolutely wanton her thoughts were.  His lips lifted ever so slightly and he brushed his knuckles across her cheek.  “The servants are bringing dinner; will you share a trencher with me this eve?”

“That would be wonderful, my lord.”

He nodded and rose, escorting her to the table.

Once again, the earl’s table was crowded. Gwen discovered shortly after her arrival that Montgomery Castle was always filled with people.  Because of its location near the ford, travelers sometimes stopped to sample Talon’s Christian hospitality.  Talon turned no one away from a hot meal and a place to bed down for the night.

But Gwen could not concentrate on the visitors or their jests and stories.  The man beside her possessed her attention completely and she discovered simply eating and drinking without making a bumbling fool out of herself took all of her concentration.

She drank far more wine than she should, trying desperately to calm her nerves. Since she had arrived, Talon seemed to have a talent for unsettling her just by being in close proximity but since he had kissed her, the discord within her only increased.

Through dinner, Gwen didn’t even notice the food; Talon was wonderfully polite, easily sharing his trencher with her.  After the meal, a minstrel began to play as the servants cleared the last of the dishes.  Gwen sat back with her wine cup and enjoyed the soft music.  Talon spoke quietly with various people and Gwen found herself closing her eyes, simply enjoying the deep timbre of his voice.

She sighed softly.  It was time for bed but she had to find Mince first.  Talon was gracious enough to allow her to keep the animal in her room until it was old enough to fend for itself with the other dogs who occupied the great hall most of the time.

Talon’s hand closed gently over hers.  “My lady, are you enjoying this eve?”

“I am,” she said and offered a smile.  “But I fear it grows late.”

Talon’s thumb began to make a circle on the back of her hand.  Sweet Jesu, how could
such a simple action feel so wonderful?  His gold-brown eyes once again took a hooded look.  Slowly, he lifted her hand and brushed his velvety lips against her skin.  She heard a tiny sigh escape her and suddenly wanted to kick herself for acting like a witless maiden.

“Perhaps it is time for you to retire.”

As long as he was looking at her and holding her hand as he was, she wasn’t moving.  “I will in a bit,” she said, her fingers tightening around his.  “But I am enjoying myself too much to leave just yet.”

He smiled at her and Gwen suddenly realized it was one of the most pleasant expressions she had seen from him.  The lines of fatigue and worry eased considerably and for a moment she wondered if she glimpsed the true Talon Montgomery.

“The minstrel is enjoyable,” he agreed.

“And so is the company.”

He blinked at her then his lips lifted a little more.  “Aye, sweet Gwen, I find the company pleases me as well.”

Startled at the compliment, she blushed and distracted herself by taking another drink of wine.  Unfortunately, Gwen was not able to enjoy neither the music nor the well-favored knight who held her hand for very long.  She could barely keep her eyes open.

“I am sorry, my lord,” she said as she stood.  “But I must fetch Mince and bid you good eve.”

He stood with her, again entirely too close, the sheer force of his presence seemed to overwhelm her senses.  “Good eve to you lady,” he said softly, bowing over her hand, then again pulling it to his lips. 

Gwen fought to keep her knees from buckling as instead of kissing the back of her hand, he subtly turned her palm and softly brushed his lips across her skin.  The heat of his touch shot straight into her breast.  He straightened and smiled, a genuine expression that fair melted her heart.

She was amazed at how difficult it became to pull her hand from his.  Her body quivered and a strange warmth curled deep within her.  She smiled, fisting her hands in her skirts and left the great hall in search of her pup.

The emotions rioted within her and she battled to sort through them as she turned for the gardens.  Mince usually busied himself near the pond in order to stay away from the other dogs.  The massive portcullis was down for the night and a single torch burned near the garden gates.

Talon made absolutely no sense to her, his personality shifted from black to white in a heartbeat.  One moment some inner torment threatened to rip him apart and the next moment he was melting her insides with a brilliant smile.

She sighed softly and approached the pool, calling for Mince.  The pup yipped at her and galloped over, his too-large feet awkward for his butterball body. She smiled at his puppy clumsiness.  He wagged his tail so hard his entire body became involved in the action.

“You silly thing,” she said reaching for him.

Mince sat down and his hind foot scratched behind his ear vigorously.  He looked up at her and suddenly growled.

Gwen froze, startled.  “What’s wrong with you?”

He backed away, his hackles lifted, his tiny needle teeth bared.

A hand grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Terror shot through her as she focused on the dark shadow behind her.  She panted in a breath when the shadow moved with lightning speed.  A fist plowed into her jaw, sending white light through her head.  Blackness descended but did not take her awareness completely.  Pain exploded and she reeled backward, falling to the ground.

Mince barked furiously, lunging forward.  He snapped and bit at the man’s legs but was too small to do any serious damage.  The man kicked, sending Mince flying backward, yelping in pain.  But the pup regained his feet and charged.

The shadow stepped forward, again grabbing her arm.  A second time its fist rose and slammed into her face but she did not fall because of the man’s grip.  She tried to gather her wits, to take a breath to scream, to escape.  She struggled, clawing at the man’s face with her free hand.  Suddenly something descended over her throat.  Fire shot through her flesh and she realized it was a garrote.  Terror possessed her.  A violent pressure closed her throat and agony followed.  She thrashed, clawing at the narrow cord, feeling blood hot and sticky. 

Pain exploded and she battled to suck in a breath but failed, blackness fogged her vision entirely and her struggles weakened.  She could not cry out, she could not breathe, aside from Mince’s barking; the gardens remained eerily silent in the midst of her death.

****

Talon sat in the great hall, drinking his wine and listening to the minstrel but his attention remained riveted on the door, waiting for a glimpse of Gwen returning.  He shook his head, amazed at how she possessed his thoughts.  But in reality he had to admit he delayed going to bed, knowing the effort to sleep would be fruitless.

Why could he no longer find peace from his nightmares?  Even just an hour or two of sleep would be a welcome relief.  He dragged in a breath.

He lifted his cup to his lips, noting with irritation that his hands trembled badly.  He knew it was exhaustion but also knew there wasn’t anything he could do about it.  Rose haunted his thoughts, his worry for her clawing at his heart and reason.  He begged God and the Saints to keep her safe, to lead him to her and bring her home.

It was time to walk the ramparts again but he didn’t want to.  The walks did nothing to relieve the tension within him.  But what possibly could except for getting Rose back?

Again his gaze focused on the door and he thought of Gwen, but that only intensified a different kind of tension - one that caused the blood to pool in his loins and tightened his body with a powerful physical response. 

Yet a strange peace settled over him at the same time. Gwen’s touch, the sound of her soft voice, her beautiful smile, and her soothing demeanor had become a balm to him.  He paused and frowned at his thoughts.  He had not told her about Rose or the events which had brought her to Montgomery.  He had refrained simply because he feared if she knew about his daughter and how terribly he wanted her home, she would see it as a weakness and try to manipulate him.

But everything he had learned about Gwen denied she would do anything like that.  Her heart was as great as the ocean.  If she could take such pity on a misfit pup because it was
just a baby
how much more would she take on an innocent eight year old child?

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his stiff neck.  Perhaps he should talk to her, explain everything to her.  She would understand...she had to.  And right now he desperately needed someone to talk to about Rose, someone whose heart was kind and gentle.  Someone who would understand the desperate love he had for his daughter and his need to get her back safe.

Summoning his courage he rose.  A small corner of his mind wondered what was taking Gwen so long.  She should have been back with Mince by now.  Perhaps he should at least check on her.

Telling himself he was doing this to make certain she was all right and not simply as an excuse to see her, Talon left the keep and stepped outside, inhaling the fresh night air.  Several clouds scudded across the sky sometimes blocking the light of the full moon and shrouding the bailey in blackness only to move past and the glow cast across the keep in brilliant silver.

The bailey was quiet for the night, except for a high pitched constant yapping.

Talon scowled, Mince no doubt.  It sounded as if it came from the gardens.  He had never heard the creature bark so.  What was wrong with the ungrateful beast?

He strode forward and entered the gardens.  The barking grew louder and angrier.  Concern grew within him, if the pup turned vicious against Gwen, he would not abide it despite her wishes. 

Suddenly Mince appeared before him, barking his fool head off.  “What’s wrong, you sapheaded mutt?” Talon growled, he reached for the pup but Mince sprinted away. 

A cloud covered the moon, making the blackness too thick to see the dog.  Cursing, Talon followed the barking deeper into the gardens.  Where was Gwen?

The yapping grew louder as he caught up with the creature.  The cloud moved past the moon and again a silver light illuminated the darkness.

Two shadows struggled silently.  Talon blinked, scarcely daring to believe his eyes.  One was the size of a large man and the second was smaller, that of a woman, her body limp as the man lowered her to the ground.  Her position was awkward as if the man hefted her weight with something around her neck.

Gwen!

Terror shot through him followed instantly by rage.  He drew his belt dagger and sprang forward.  The blood thrumming through his veins tinted his vision red but he uttered not a sound as he attacked.  His dagger flashed silver in the moonlight and the larger shadow flinched.