His Captive (13 page)
Authors: Diana J. Cosby
“Next time you will not be so quick to steal my clothes,” Alexander said as his brother threw him his garments, then handed him his weapons.
Duncan glowered at his other brother. “Not with Patrik knowing about the prank.”
With a grin, Alexander tugged on his clothes. “Sounds like Patrik is deserving of a wet down.”
Duncan picked a thorn from his skin and glanced toward where Patrik sat laughing. “It does now at that.” The irritation on his face shifted into mischievous satisfaction. He nodded to Alexander. “The time is ripe.”
Alexander set his weapons down.
Both men charged their brother.
At their approach, Patrik scurried to his feet, his hands out wide and began backing up. “You would not be touching me now. It was all in jest!”
They didn’t break stride.
Patrik bolted. He’d almost reached his horse before Alexander caught his arm, and Duncan grabbed his other shoulder. They began to drag him toward a large rock that hung over a deep pool in the loch.
“Let me go!” Patrik fought them.
Laughing, they dragged him to the edge.
“This will teach you for telling my deeds,” Duncan charged. With Alexander’s help, and Duncan’s boot on his arse, they tossed Patrik over the edge.
A loud splash rewarded their efforts.
Alexander and Duncan watched with supreme satisfaction as their brother floundered in the water.
“You were deserving it, Duncan,” Patrik sputtered. He wiped the moisture from his face as he tread water. “And crawling through a batch of nettles is far from payment for seducing Johanna, the woman I had my eye on.”
Alexander arched a brow at Duncan. So that was what this was all about.
Duncan shrugged. “The lad is slow when it comes to women.”
In sure, powerful strokes, Patrik started toward shore. “You will pay for this.”
“Not tonight.” With a wink at Alexander, Duncan sprinted toward his horse.
Chuckling, Alexander ran to his bay and mounted. He urged his horse into a gallop. In seconds he caught up with Duncan. The echo of hooves mingled with Patrik’s curses behind them as he and his brother raced toward home.
Lochshire Castle came into view, along with the tower where Nichola slept, and Alexander’s laughter faded. The desire he’d fought only a short while ago to control returned with a gut-twisting vengeance.
Alexander cursed and urged his mount faster. But the slap of reality, of how she could affect him, nearly stole his breath. He’d known better than to touch her. Like a green lad he’d deceived himself into thinking he could take but one kiss without wanting more.
She was a virgin; a woman who would expect more than a quick tumble from her lover. A woman like her would want forever. He could never offer her that.
But as he rode through the gatehouse and into the courtyard with Duncan at his side, Alexander glanced toward the tower window and wondered if such a folly ever could be?
Chapter Ten
In the great hall, the familiar rumble of men eating, talking, and preparing for the new day surrounded Alexander. He stared at the roasted meat speared on his dagger while his brothers attacked their fare at the trencher table, both seated on either side of him.
Images of Nichola locked within her chamber haunted his mind, and Alexander’s appetite fled. He tossed the chunk of venison to the dogs beneath the table. They scrambled for the meat as he wiped off his blade and slid it into his sheath.
Seathan shot him a questioning look. “What is wrong?”
Alexander stood. “I will be working alongside Blar making crossbows.”
“As you have worked alongside the atilliator for the last four days?” Seathan sipped his wine, his gaze intent. “And you have pushed yourself hard, returning to the keep late in the night after the tables have long been cleared from the evening meal.”
“I am not a lad that needs tending.” Alexander wiped the grease from his hands and threw the cloth aside. “Once the fighting begins, we will be needing extra weapons.”
Duncan tore off a bite of bread, his dimples deepening with amusement. “It is a tumble with a lass you would be needing to ease your mind.”
Patrik slanted a hard look toward Alexander. “Do not be telling Duncan the wench you are favoring. He will have her on her back and her legs spread before you can unsheathe your blade.”
“It is my charm.” Duncan took a drink of ale. “Which is much more attractive to women than your flea-bitten face.”
Seathan rose. “The two of you need to think with your brains instead of your cocks.” His gaze fell upon Alexander. “We need to speak.”
Alexander hesitated. He didn’t want a confrontation. He wanted to submerge his mind in the making of crossbows. In the crafting of precision weaponry, he could distance his thoughts of Nichola. He sighed. Seathan’s serious expression assured him they would talk.
Alexander walked by his older brother’s side as they left the great hall. Their footsteps echoed up the spiral steps as they started up the tower.
Once they exited onto the wall walk, Seathan glanced at Alexander. “I received a missive last night. The barter for the arms has been made. The price agreed. It will be less than the ransom we have demanded.”
He grunted. “The extra coin will be welcome.”
“Aye,” Seathan agreed.
A light breeze scented with the loch and grass swirled past. Alexander walked by his brother’s side, edgy, but curious as to the reason of Seathan’s request to accompany him. He could have shared the news of the arms agreement while they’d broken their fast.
Seathan halted before a merlon. “I remember standing here on mornings when I could not sleep. I would come here to be alone, to try and work out problems that seemed insurmountable.” He leaned against the carved stone and stared out. “Somehow our father would know when I was troubled and he would find me. Though he did not always give me answers, he would offer advice to help me weigh my final decision.”
“Aye,” Alexander agreed. “He always discerned when one of us needed a guiding hand. Or required a proper setting down.” And he’d been a man who’d sacrificed his life to save Alexander’s. He swallowed hard. “I miss him.”
Reflections of grief sifted through Seathan’s eyes. “As do I.”
“He would be proud of how you have guided Lochshire Castle with a steady hand.”
“But not alone. You, Duncan, and Patrik have helped when there has been a need, offered support when sought out.” Seathan paused. “Until now. You are troubled, yet you harbor your thoughts.”
Irritated by his brother’s ability to discern what most would miss, Alexander remained silent. What would he tell him, that he despised treating Nichola like his prisoner? That he wanted her for his lover? Or that she moved him as no other?
Maybe he should tell him that she wished him dead, and her harsh words hurt the worst?
Shame scraped up his throat. He’d allowed his feelings to grow toward his enemy. ’Twas unforgivable. Even the knowing changed naught. God help him, she meant more to him than she should.
“There is naught to discuss,” he finally replied. He looked toward where the morning sun cut through the fog hovering over the calm waters. “The abduction went well enough. The request for ransom has been sent. Now the arms we need are awaiting our arrival.”
“What I speak of has little to do with arms, the mission, or the rebels. You have walked around like an injured badger for the last four days.”
Alexander stiffened. “I have kept to my self.”
“Aye,” Seathan replied with a quiet concern that had Alexander clenching his teeth. “More so than since our father’s death.”
“By God’s eyes, I do not want to talk of—”
“You have not spoken of our father’s death, but it eats at you,” Seathan pressed. “It shows in your every step. At how you always volunteer for dangerous missions.”
Guilt poured through Alexander as the last seconds of his father’s life rolled through his mind. On his grave, he’d vowed to take vengeance upon the English. Now, his desire for Nichola betrayed everything he stood for.
“Leave it.”
“Your being killed will change naught,” Seathan said. “Nor replace our father. It is long past time to air your grief.”
“Grief,” Alexander spat. “Is that what it is called watching our father die in my arms from an arrow meant for me?”
Green eyes darkened to black. “It was his choice. The decision is long made. And past.”
“You asked me here to speak of our father?”
“In part.”
“And the other?” Alexander asked, afraid he already knew the reason.
For a long moment his brother studied him. “You are a man who loves to tumble with the lasses. But never have I seen a woman who has left you on edge to where you will not turn to family for help. Lady Nichola has.”
“I am worried about her,” he finally said, which was the truth.
A humorless smile touched Seathan’s mouth. “Worried or smitten?”
“Blast it, I have stayed away from her for the last four days.”
“And with each passing one, your mood darkens.”
His spine stiffened. Because it was the truth, Alexander bit back his sharp retort. “When the time comes to return her to England, I will do my duty.”
“I have asked Patrik to escort her back to England once the ransom arrives.”
Alexander glared at him. “I abducted Nichola.”
His brother watched him, the quiet strength in his expression making Alexander’s gut tighten. He knew that look. Seathan would not be swayed from his decision.
Seathan shook his head. “Patrik will go.”
Panic shot through him at the thought of losing even those few precious days with Nichola. “Is it wrong to want time with her? Only the few days it will take to deliver her back to Rothfield Castle?”
“There is no right or fairness in war, only sadness and injustice.” Seathan studied him, his sharp eyes missing nothing. “With her reputation already in ruins by the abduction, the time you spend with the lass while she is at Lochshire Castle is of no consequence. As long as she is treated well and is willing in whatever you both do in private. With her brother’s wealth, he can easily find a man who will offer to wed her.”
He held his hand up when Alexander made to speak.
“You may think my words harsh or unjust,” Seathan continued, “but I understand the caring and the heartbreak of letting go of a woman. A sane man, when his mind becomes twisted by his feelings, can become a fool. I have already informed Patrik that he, along with a chaperone, will travel and exchange the woman for the ransom.”
Unease rumbled inside. “With his grudge against the English, do you think his escorting Nichola wise?”
“You believe he would harm her?”
That was another issue. Though not brothers by blood, he considered Patrik his true brother. But neither could he forget that the murder of Patrik’s family by the English had brought Patrik to their home. He’d like to believe that Patrik would never harm Nichola. Mayhap, ’twas his feelings for Nichola that spurned his protectiveness.
Unsure of the base of his misgivings, Alexander shrugged. “No.” But doubts remained.
Seathan nodded. “All I have done is changed the time you will spend with Lady Nichola by a few days at most.”
Alexander wanted to object, fought the words crowding his tongue for release, but he understood with humbling clarity his brother’s reasoning.
Two years ago, Seathan, the rational, level-headed man who always walked the righteous path, had fallen in love—with a married woman. She’d dismissed Seathan’s declarations of love and explained she’d used him to make her husband jealous.
Seathan had returned home, his innocences lost, and his pride shattered. He’d changed, had become quieter and harder. The laughter that had softened his face during his youth was now almost nonexistent.
But for his brothers, Seathan would offer his life.
If anyone else had informed Alexander he wouldn’t escort Nichola back to England, he would have rebelled like a wolf protecting its mate. Not to Seathan. His brother’s words held wisdom, insight painfully learned.
Even if he refuted Seathan’s decree, what could he offer as a defense? His abduction of Nichola had already invited the baron’s wrath, hostility he’d shamefully disregarded. Alexander dropped his hands to his sides. Seathan was right. Besides, escorting Nichola home would only deepen his sorrow.
With his mind made up and his heart heavy, Alexander nodded his agreement.
“Upon Patrik’s return,” Seathan explained, “you, along with a contingent of hand-picked men, will travel to the western edge of Selkirk Forest where you will meet with the men selling us arms. After they have received payment, they will lead you to the weapons.”
“Aye,” Alexander replied, his throat tight.
His brother laid a hand on his shoulder. “We are given choices, but not always those we want.” Pain flashed on Seathan’s face before he could shield the emotion, and Alexander understood, his brother thought of the woman who had hurt him. “I have a task to take care of now, but I look forward to our next round on the practice field.”
“As will I,” Alexander said, forcing out a lightness he didn’t feel.
Seathan walked away.
The echo of his brother’s steps down the turret faded, and Alexander rubbed the back of his neck. Aye, he would do his duty for his country and his clan, but he doubted there would ever come a time when he would forget Nichola.
With a heavy heart, he descended the stairs. At the bottom, the servant he’d assigned to Nichola’s care rushed toward him, but his gaze was already skimming up to where her window stood open.
And empty.
He remembered the servant’s report yesterday of how over the past four days, Nichola had become withdrawn. News that had disturbed him to the point where he’d almost agreed to Nichola’s request to see him. But his last confrontation with her, their kiss, had kept him from making such a dangerous move. As much as he wanted to deny her effect over him, he couldn’t.
The young woman halted before him. “Lady Nichola did not touch her food last eve or break her fast this morning.”
“Is she ill?”
“She looks peaked, but nothing I say will convince her to eat.” Lines of worry dredged in the servant’s brow. “I fear if she does not eat soon, she will fall ill or worse.”
“I will speak with her.” But only for a moment. He refused to make the same mistake twice and allow himself to become tempted by her feminine wiles.
Relief swept over her face. “My thanks, Sir Alexander.”
“Bring a fresh tray of food to the room. I will ensure Lady Nichola finishes it.”
“Aye.” The woman hurried away.
Alexander strode across the courtyard. The stubborn chit. Did she think that with her token rebellion he would cave in and allow her freedom to roam the castle and give her another chance to escape?
He ascended the torch-lit tower, his unease growing with each step. Should he have checked on Nichola before? Was she truly ill? Or was this yet another ruse?
After her last failed escape attempt and now with being locked within the tower room, didn’t she realize that he couldn’t allow her to slip away? No. The chit didn’t have enough sense to quit, all because of her stubborn pride.
He couldn’t help but admire that Nichola fought for what she believed in. ’Twas a strength of his as well. But her determination to best him changed nothing. He’d not tolerate her defiance. She would eat. Then he would leave.
But when he stepped inside the chamber, the woman who turned to face him from near her bedside was a ghostly version of the spirited lass he’d abducted. The frail sadness in her eyes almost dropped him to his knees.
His heart pounded as he crossed the room.
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