Ruby - Book 1 (Daughters of the Dagger Series) (3 page)

She watched them go, biting her bottom lip
to keep from shouting out. She knew she should not embarrass her
father further by objecting or asking him not to keep his word.
Still, she couldn’t just accept a fate such as this, and allow the
Lord of Death to take her without even a struggle. No, she had to
try to do something to stop it.

She took off running after the men. “But
Papa, I’ve made a promise to mother to stay with you forever,” she
tried in one last futile attempt.

“And I’ve made a promise to Lord Sheffield,”
came her father’s reply.

She ran ahead of them, planting herself
directly in front of the men, causing them to stop. She put her
hands on her hips as she spoke. “And what good is that promise if I
wind up dead by my new husband’s own hand?”

“I can see I’ll have my work cut out in
taming your daughter, Blackpool,” said Sheffield with a shake of
his head. “Though I want a strong bride to bear me warriors, I will
not let her forget to whom she answers now.”

The men stepped around her and continued on
a route toward the castle.

“I’m afraid she knows naught of what’s
expected of a lady,” her father apologized. “I’m to blame for that.
I should have raised her properly instead of letting her run
wild.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I act.”
Ruby ran up behind Lord Sheffield, accidentally stepping on the
back of his trailing cloak. It ripped near the hem and he stopped
suddenly, stiffening as if she had struck him. Then with a reserved
coolness to his movement, he turned slowly to face her.

The suggestion of annoyance burned in his
eyes as they suddenly darkened dangerously. His mouth was a firm
line and a muscle twitched in his clenched jaw. She could already
picture him killing her off in the first day. She’d have to make
sure she slept with her dagger under her pillow for protection -
and as far away from him as possible.

He surveyed the torn cloak, making a big
show of taking it off and folding it neatly into a small square.
That enabled her to see his broad shoulders that had been hidden
under the cloak as well as his long legs. It was almost amusing to
see such a rugged warrior placing so much importance on the folding
of a torn and dirtied garment. Then his large, battle-scarred hands
shot forward and he handed her his cloak. Instinctively, she
reached for it and the exchange was made between them.

“Your first job, wife, will be to mend my
cloak.”

She suddenly realized her mistake of
accepting anything from the Lord of Death. “I don’t know how to
sew.” She shifted his cloak to one hand and flipped her long blond
braid behind her with the other. She raised her chin in
defiance.

“Then I’ll teach you.”

“What? You know how to sew?” She narrowed
her eyes as she tried to decide whether or not he was lying.
“Sewing is a woman’s chore, not a knight’s.”

“So surprised are you that a man could know
a woman’s skills? Don’t you practice a man’s activities and think
naught of it?”

“Why yes, but -”

“I have much to teach you, bride. But first
I must come to terms with your father of our deal. I hope your
dowry includes bolts of satin and thread as well. You’re going to
need it. I won’t have my wife running around in torn skirts covered
with mud.”

“Ruby,” her father answered wearily. “Go to
your chamber at once. Wash your face and hands and dress properly.
Have your handmaiden pack your trunk. I’ll tell Severin to send a
page up for it as soon as you are ready.”

“I’m leaving? Now?” Panic threatened to
choke her and she felt her throat tighten with every word. “What
about the three weeks of posting the wedding bans as is
proper?”

“I’m sorry, honey,” said her father. “But
the deal was that Lord Sheffield take his betrothed with him today.
When and where the actual ceremony takes place will be his decision
now.”

“And if I may point out,” Sheffield said to
Ruby, “you do not seem to be the kind of girl who does anything
that’s proper. So what does it matter to you if we follow procedure
or not?”

“It matters to me! Papa, you’re really going
to let him do this?”

Her father just stared at her and she swore
his eyes seemed a bit glassy. The only time she had seen anything
near this was when he’d shed tears at the death of her mother. Then
he nodded his head slightly, and without a word to her, he turned
and gave his attention to Lord Sheffield instead. “Will you be
staying for the midday meal?”

“Nay. I’ll be leaving as soon as we seal our
agreement,” came Sheffield’s low and controlled answer. “I’d like
to get back as soon as possible, as it is a good journey and ’tis
already well into the morning hours.”

“Then I’ll have the cook send some food for
your journey home.”

Ruby watched the men walk to the castle,
discussing her wedding to this dark lord as naught more than an
exchange of goods, and excluding her completely. She was close to
tears, but she wouldn’t show it. She knew her father had no choice
in the matter. He had given his word and it was final. Still, she
longed for a hug or a reassuring word from him, trying to convince
her all would be fine though they both knew otherwise.

She’d go with Lord Sheffield, only to save
face for her father in the eyes of the king, and to seal a deal
that would protect his lands. But there was no way she’d marry him.
She’d escape as soon as she could. Her leaving Sheffield could not
bring ill fate to her father if he knew naught about it. She’d
avoid her marriage and at the same time she’d escape her death.

She looked down at her fingers clutching
Lord Sheffield’s cloak. She ran a hand over the top of the fine
silk, wondering what it felt like to be this cloth and pressed up
against the man’s body. She wasn’t blind, and realized he was more
handsome than any man she’d ever seen. She also knew he was more
dangerous and somehow this intrigued her.

Three wives this man had already taken to
his bed, and she would be just another. She reminded herself that
marriage obviously meant nothing to him as he disposed of wives
quickly. Within a sennight of his last wife’s death he was already
looking for another. She had no doubt she would do something to
anger him and be naught more than his next victim.

She longed for the true love promised to her
by the superstition of her missing jeweled dagger. If only she had
that as a last thread of hope, but she didn’t.

He may be the most attractive man she’d ever
met, but yet she loathed him more than anyone she’d ever known. He
said he wanted a strong woman - not frail like his last three wives
who died so easily. What did this mean? Did he want her to put up a
fight when he decided to kill her off? Well, if a fight is what he
wanted, then a fight he would get. She’d bring all her weapons in
her trunk. Her sword, her dagger and anything else she could find
along the way. She wouldn’t go to her demise without trying to save
her life in the process.

This man was not her true love, and if she
had to leave her home and her family, she at least wanted something
in return. She wanted him not, and the sooner he knew this, the
better.

She let go of his cloak, letting it slip
through her fingers and fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. The
neatly folded rich cape of such a domineering, powerful man now lay
in the mud of the same earth that now covered each and every one of
his late wives, naught more than discarded trash. She smiled
slightly, lifting her skirt and stepping forward directly onto the
center of his cloak as she headed up to her chamber to prepare for
her departure with the Lord of Death.

Lord Nyle paced impatiently in the
courtyard, already aggravated that his future bride would be
causing them to travel well into the night before they even stopped
to make camp. He stood next to his squire, Locke, who held the
reins of his horse under his right, gnarled and twisted arm, while
he petted the horse’s nose with his good left hand. A stable boy
from Blackpool Castle stood waiting with a light brown palfrey for
Ruby which had a lady’s saddle mounted on top.

“What did the lady say?” asked Locke
curiously.

Locke had been his squire for the last five
years. The boy had always been loyal to Nyle, and it did not go
unnoticed. When Locke lost the use of his right arm in battle
protecting him, Nyle knew he would never make it to knighthood.
While he could still use the arm slightly, ’twas twisted and
damaged and his fingers were curled and gnarled.

He could not hold a weapon in his right
hand. He should have even been dismissed from his position of
squire, but Nyle wouldn’t hear of it. Even with one arm hanging
basically useless at his side, Locke was still able to protect him,
and could hold his own in any fight. Nyle had seen to that when he
taught the boy to wield a sword left-handed, as he, himself, had
dominance of his left hand. Many people feared him for this fact
alone, saying he was spawned from the devil. They’d called Locke
his cursed minion. No man wielded a sword with his left hand. But
now, there were two of them. The fear that ran rampant when he and
Locke entered a castle’s courtyard was almost enough to make him
laugh aloud.

“What lady?” Nyle continued his pacing.

“Lady Ruby. Your future wife,” Locke
reminded him.

“She’s no lady. She’s the furthest thing
from a lady I’ve ever seen. It’s deplorable the way she’s been
brought up - raised more like a squire than the daughter of an
earl.”

“It sounds as if you disapprove of Lady
Ruby.”

“Of course I do. You know I like my women
feminine, obedient, and very willing. There’s nothing - nothing at
all about this Ruby that fits the description of a lady.”

“Then why did you choose her for you bride,
my lord?” asked Locke, bewildered.

Why indeed? Nyle just shook his head. It was
more of an impulsive decision. Mayhap he’d done it just to spite
the little shrew. Or mayhap he’d done it because he’d admired the
way she stood up to him and met his words in challenge. But truly,
he’d chosen her because he was starting to doubt his wives’ deaths
were accidents after all. And he knew that once he was married,
whoever was stalking him would be after him again. That is, out to
kill his wife.

He needed to catch this assassin and find
out who he was. And since it seemed he was after his wives, this
was his best bait yet. A woman who knew how to handle herself and
could defend herself in his absence, was just what he needed.

“Just between us, Locke, this girl is going
to be my lure to catch the murderer who I have decided resides
within the very walls of my castle.”

“What? Are you saying you are going to use
her as a pawn?”

“I don’t have a choice. You can see as well
as everyone else that I have been made a fool of by this traitor
whom I cannot seem to catch.”

“I am remorseful for your losses, my lord,
but do you think it wise to put the Lady Ruby right in the path of
danger?”

“Danger? Hah! Whoever this assassin is who
is trying to make me look incompetent in the eyes of my king, will
have his hands full with this one. I sincerely doubt I’ll have to
sleep with one eye open, as if anything is amiss I’ll be alerted by
her open mouth.”

This woman excited him in a strange way. She
had a mind and tongue of her own. These traits in a woman were
unheard of and could only bring trouble to the union of their
marriage. But whom was he fooling to think she didn’t stir his
loins, as he’d always been attracted to trouble like a thirsty
horse drawn to water. He needed Lady Ruby as much as she needed
him.

He needed a wife for more reasons than one.
And she needed a man who would be able to put her in her place. His
secret mission back in Sheffield was about to be put into motion,
and he needed a strong wife to help him keep it safe. He was on a
hushed mission for King Edward III, and determined to succeed, no
matter what happened.

But as he’d seen in the past few months,
things were not going as planned. He was supposed to have married
already, and have a wife before this mission could continue. But
his ill luck had been sabotaging him with the death of his wives.
Ill luck that he now decided was really someone trying to stop the
mission before it started. But hope was restored once he saw the
shrew. With Ruby as his wife, the cur trying to get to him by
killing off his wives would be doomed. He almost felt pity for the
man in an odd sort of way. Ruby would slow the murderer down long
enough for Nyle to stab his own sword through the bastard’s heart.
But not before he caught the assassin and brought him before the
king to confess of his doings.

Being the only living son of the late
William Sheffield, Nyle was desperately in need of an heir to keep
the lands in the family’s name. But his past three wives had all
died on their wedding days to him. That is, before he’d had the
chance to even consummate the marriages. And that was not good for
any man’s morale.

Still, Nyle had not married the women with a
goal to conceive, as that would have just been a bonus. He’d
married on orders of the king, as he needed a wife or King Edward
would never even consider him a candidate to watch over his bastard
child. He needed a wife in order to carry out the guise that the
child was theirs.

Tibbar was the one-year-old boy’s name, and
Nyle had been the one to name him. He’d taken a special interest in
the boy while living in Windsor Castle. And because of his fondness
to the child and the child’s fondness toward Nyle, the king
believed he was the best fit to protect him. But when Nyle’s father
passed away unexpectedly several months ago, he returned to inherit
his father’s estate and lands at Sheffield.

Nyle had been at the king’s right hand in
service for the past five years. He’d been there to help save the
king at the Battle of Winchelsea when the king’s ship, the Cog
Thomas was rammed by a Castilian vessel and sank to the bottom of
the channel. But through all his dangerous missions, he had to say
he’d never been entrusted to do anything like what this mission
entailed.