Nothing Else Matters (6 page)

With the groom to hold the stirrup then hand him the reins, he had himself and his prize settled onto the big gelding almost before anyone else in the crowd knew what he was about. He gave the horse a kick in the ribs while Lars hurried forward to slap it on the rump. The horse broke in to a run as a surprised roar went up from behind. Stian laughed as he rode away.

Lars and the groom had done their work wel , the night guards had the gates to the inner and outer bailey open for him. Their lewd cal s fol owed him out into the night.

Soon he had al the silence and darkness he could wish as he entered the forest close by Harelby’s gates. It was just the woman he held close against his chest and him. He ran his hand up and down her back then pul ed the cloak aside. When her head came up to look at him, he caught her mouth in a

forceful kiss. He looked forward to reaching their destination. Once there, he’d have her quickly on her back.

* * * * *

Edythe chimed in anxiously, “What wil happen to Eleanor?”

Roger ignored both women while his son rode away. The courtyard was ful of questioning, confused people. Roger ignored them as wel . He did spare

one annoyed look for his nephew, who leaned against the chapel wal , pointing toward the gate and laughing drunkenly. Lars was ever an annoyance.

Final y, Roger rubbed the back of his neck and said to the anxiously watching women, “Bride stealing is an old custom.”

“Aye,” Beatrice agreed. “But men don’t general y steal their own brides.” She pointed toward the keep. “There’s a bed waiting for them in the tower with a fine new mattress.”

Roger understood his chatelaine’s irritable reaction. She worked hard to see that life at Harelby ran smoothly. He waved away her complaint. “It’s best to have the boy out of the way for a few days, Beatrice. We’ve the shire court to prepare for, you and I.”

He looked sternly at Beatrice until she final y lowered her eyes. After getting a grim nod from his chatelaine acknowledging his mastery, he turned his attention to his anxious wife.

“Eleanor wil be safe,” he assured her.

“But where did he take her? Why?”

Roger put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and began to guide her back toward the hal . He knew exactly where his son had gone but he gave a kinder

description of the place than it deserved for Edythe’s peace of mind. “He keeps a secret bower deep in the forest. It is a dry, fragrant place next to a serene pool.” He ignored Beatrice’s sarcastic chuckle as he went on. “They’l make love on a soft bed of furs with only the stars to keep silent watch.”

Edythe was looking up at him with a soft, intent expression, hanging admiringly on his words. She leaned against him as they walked along, making him

wel aware of her supple young body. Need for the golden beauty kindled inside him. It was to his own bed he wanted to retire, never mind the

arrangements his son made for himself.

“Come, my dear,” he told his wife. He ran the back of his hand across her soft cheek. “Let us lie down together in our own big bed.”

She answered him with a mischievous smile. “We wil lie down, my lord, but not to sleep, I trust.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not to sleep.”

From nearby he heard Dame Beatrice mutter, “Randy old fool.”

Roger ignored her comment as he took Edythe into the hal . What others thought of his behavior had never meant anything to him. Nor should it. It was one lesson he had never been able to teach his son. Roger knew very wel why Stian had run off with the girl. Wel , he wished him wel on his wedding night then dismissed al but thoughts of Edythe from his mind.

* * * * *

sensation nauseated her. Gradual y an odd warmth began to radiate from the spot where their mouths touched. Eleanor did not understand it but she

welcomed any heat as the cold air rushed by. The tangling cloak wasn’t enough, the heat radiating from the big body holding her so tightly wasn’t enough, but the kiss, the kiss heated her from the inside. Nothing had ever done that before.

She had started the ride terrified and nearly stifled by the heavy wool of the cloak covering her. She’d been too tangled to move and too frightened to try.

The darkness hadn’t brightened any when her captor freed her head. She hadn’t had time to look around. He’d kissed her before she had time to draw

breath for a scream. The kiss tasted darkly of wine, and like the wine she’d drank at Lord Roger’s table, it was unpleasant but intoxicating.

The kiss didn’t go on forever, though it seemed to. Eventual y Stian set his attention on guiding the horse along the track. He stil held her close against his chest. Eleanor didn’t try to struggle for fear of fal ing from the big animal. She didn’t want to be trampled under its feet or lost in the black forest. So she held herself stil in Stian’s iron grip, al her senses alert while her mind was practical y numb.

She was afraid. Of where they were going. Of what would happen when they got there. She hated being afraid. Mostly because fear also made her

recklessly angry. Recklessness was the last thing she needed to deal with the unpredictable, bad-tempered man who had abducted her.

Stian knew from the kiss that the wine had conquered him. It had been sweet to delve into the heat of her mouth but no arousal had been sparked by his action. Nothing. A fire should have been growing in his loins. Instead he was becoming dizzy, listless with drink. He’d been trying to get drunk al night, now he realized just how wel he’d succeeded. Sleep wasn’t far off as he struggled to keep his eyes open, his grip on his prisoner and his mind on the horse. Fortunately, the gelding knew the way and the girl had sense enough to keep stil .

“Not far,” he mumbled as the horse moved downhil . Stian could hear the rush of water nearby. The trees narrowed and the slope became steeper. The

way was tricky, they were whipped by branches and a startled owl hurtled past, brushing Stian’s cheek with its wing, but they made it into the clearing no worse for wear. The place had a haunted feel to it. The smal pool spread out as a deeper patch of dark on this moonless night. The cave looked like the humped back of a giant sleeping bear.

The horse stopped of its own accord before the entrance of the cave. Stian swayed in the tal saddle, tilted slowly sideways and eventual y fel off, taking the girl with him. He had just enough sense to do his best to cushion her fal as much as he could. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs, the cloak bunched up around them. The horse snorted and backed away. Stian lay looking up at the stars for a few moments. He smiled as they seemed to whirl

through the night, just out of his reach.

“Fine wine,” he murmured. “Very fine wine.”

The girl lay stiff and stil beside him. Eventual y he recal ed her presence. He brought her with him when he sat up. He couldn’t have done otherwise the way the cloak was now wrapped around both of them. It was the mouse who pushed and pul ed and got them untangled from the cloth. Stian was pleased,

for he couldn’t have managed it on his own.

Once out of the cloak, Eleanor sprang to her feet. When Stian got up and staggered into the cave, she fol owed. She could see little, she could only tel that the cave was dry and big enough for Stian to stand upright.

Now that she was on solid ground again, anger was overcoming her fear. “Where are we?” she asked. “Why have you brought me here?”

Stian’s hands landed heavily on her shoulders then slid down her arms and away. “Going to take you,” he said. He pointed to the ground. “Right here.” He laughed, a low sound, but it echoed off the stone wal s surrounding them. “Going to…have…you.”

Eleanor drew herself up to her ful , inconsiderable height. “I won’t be ravished on my wedding night!”

“Fine,” Stian answered, the word slow and slurred. He sounded annoyingly cheerful. “I’l ravish you in the morning.” He slid to the ground.

Eleanor waited for long minutes without moving, staring down at the unmoving lump she’d married. Final y she stepped forward and prodded him with her

toe. “Sir Stian?” He didn’t move. “My lord?” Nothing. He was asleep. “Damn!”

Eleanor didn’t know what to do about this incredible turn of events. She’d been resigned to a proper bedding, to the pain of doing her wifely duty amid proper ceremony. There should have been a bed and jokes and advice from those who helped them undress. They should have sat stiffly side by side,

naked under the covers while Lord Roger made a speech and offered toasts to the newlyweds. Edythe should have been there with advice and an

encouraging goodnight kiss. There should have been sly winks and open laughter, encouragement and congratulations. It should have been done

properly.

She had been prepared for doing it properly. Then she would have felt married. She wouldn’t have minded so much when they were left alone and Stian

bade her open her legs for him. She would have felt like a martyr but she would also have felt like a wife.

This was al wrong. It was mad. And here she was alone in a cave the holy saints knew where with a man too drunk to do anything but sleep. She didn’t

know what she was going to do. She couldn’t just run back to Harelby and pound on the gate until someone let her in. She had no idea where she was or

how she’d gotten here. There were probably wolves or bears or wildcats in the forest. She was just going to have to wait for him to wake, wasn’t she? She didn’t know what she was going to do until then.

She did however take momentary satisfaction in kicking Stian in the rump as hard as she could. She ended up with aching toes and he just turned over

and began snoring. Eleanor wanted to kick him again and to swear at him as wel .

“I do not wish to be in your company,” she informed him. “Sleeping or awake. Drunk or sober,” she added. “Not that I’l probably ever have to worry about seeing you sober.”

She turned around and spent a good while standing in the cave mouth breathing in the cold night air. Eventual y she picked the cloak up off the ground and stood holding it, knowing how useful it would be as a blanket. It wasn’t that she minded sleeping on the ground. She had slept on the ground many

nights on the journey from Poitiers and on the way to Harelby. She was used to sleeping with Edythe by her side or very nearby. Now Edythe slept beside Lord Roger at Harelby and Eleanor had never felt more alone in her life.

It wasn’t just for tonight. She had her whole life before her to spend alone with this man. She had to decide what to do.

Al she could do, she supposed, was live with him. If he wanted to spend his wedding night in a cave, who was she to gainsay him? If he wanted to rape her in the morning, wel , she would have something to say about that. She and the teachings of Lady Constance.

Eleanor ran a hand down the front of her overdress. She looked back at the dark lump that was Stian and fought down the shudder that was part fear and part anticipation. Then thoughtful y, deliberately, she began to unlace her dress.

Stian was used to waking up on the ground with a pounding pain in his head. It wasn’t al that uncommon to wake up to the feel of a soft, female breast under his cheek as he did now. It wasn’t uncommon for him not to remember what he’d done, where he was or how he’d gotten there. What was

uncommon was that he woke up with the nagging feeling that this time it was important he remember al these things.

He also needed to remember someone’s name.

But first, he needed to throw up.

Once he’d crawled outside and accomplished that he felt a bit better. It was dawn and the waking birds were making an ungodly racket. Stian didn’t quite have the energy to shake his fist at them but the noise did cause him to look around. He saw the hil side, the ancient trees, the trickle of water that bubbled out of the rock face and flowed down into the smal pool next to the cave. The cave. How had he gotten to the cave?

As he struggled to his feet, he saw his horse calmly cropping spring grass. As he walked toward it, the gelding raised its head to give him a questioning nicker. At least the animal’s presence answered how he’d gotten to the cave. He stil couldn’t recal the why. What he did know was that no matter how his head hurt and his stomach heaved, the horse needed to be cared for. Fortunately it didn’t look to have been ridden hard. He got the saddle off and found a bag ful of provisions in the process.

He was glad someone had thought to provide him with food and ale. Perhaps he would even want them eventual y. First though, he pul ed off his clothes

and plunged into the pool. He rinsed the sour taste out of his mouth then splashed around the waist-deep water to loosen cramped muscles as much as to get himself clean. The icy water helped to clear his head. Once his head was clear, he remembered the naked girl.

When he stood up, he saw her standing in the mouth of the cave. Only she wasn’t naked, she had his saffron yel ow cape wrapped tightly around her body.

Her silky hair spread like a black mantle across the rich color of the cloak. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks were tinged with spots of color. She stared at him with wide, dark eyes. Stian stared back. He thought it might be important for him to remember who she was.

Then after several minutes had passed and the girl had gone from blushing to pale to blushing again, she took two steps out of the cave mouth and

spread her arms. The cloak fel down around her feet like a shower of gold. A dark fal of hair obscured her face as she modestly turned her head away but the rest of her was clear to Stian’s view.

Stian forgot al about the chil water of the pool as the sight of her warmed him. Al his questions vanished, stiff muscles and the pain in his head were forgotten as wel . The pleasant, heavy ache in his groin was al that mattered as he stepped from the water. He didn’t know who the girl was, but if she were going to offer herself to him so blatantly, he certainly wasn’t going to turn away the gift.