Ruby - Book 1 (Daughters of the Dagger Series) (5 page)

“Who’s there?” she asked, hearing the
tremble in her voice. Then she realized it wasn’t who but what. An
animal came into the clearing and in the dim light of the setting
sun, she could see its sharp teeth and furry coat. A wolf, head low
but eyes riveted upon her, stalked toward her. She screamed and
backed around the tree, managing to reach a low branch, pulling
herself upward, then climbing yet one branch higher. Looking down,
she frantically pulled up her long train after her. She cursed the
fact she wore this binding gown, making it impossible to climb the
way she used to as a child. She tried to move her gown from under
her foot and slipped, causing her to have to grab onto the branch,
her feet now dangling dangerously beneath her.

She hung from her hands, lifting her feet
higher, trying to wrap her knees around the branch. But the skirt
tangled and kept her from succeeding. She looked down once more and
saw the wolf getting closer. If she dropped now, she’d end up right
in its jaws.

“No!” she screamed. “Leave me alone.”

Then the sound of hoofbeats led her to
believe her horse had returned to her rescue. But when she saw Lord
Sheffield heading toward her, she knew her odds had worsened. She’d
much rather be thrown to the wolves than thrown into the arms of
the Lord of Death.

He sprang from his horse, dagger in hand,
tying his steed to a tree, though the animal tried to run from the
wolf.

“Kill it!” she screamed, her legs kicking
wildly, her fingers slipping on the branch with every move she
made.

He walked toward the wolf, dagger at the
ready, but made no motion to lunge for it.

“Kill it!” she screamed once more.

Instead, he waved his hands and scared the
wolf away. He stood beneath her now, looking up her skirt, as she
had managed to lift her legs around the branch. An embarrassing
position to be sure, and she despised him even more.

“Come down from there at once,” he
commanded.

She wanted to deny him, but couldn’t. Her
fingers were raw, her palms sweaty. Her grip slipped and she fell,
landing atop him. In a tangle of satin and limbs, she lie prone
atop his body on the cold hard ground.

She pushed upward, realizing she was now in
the position of coupling. Her bodice was low cut and the tops of
her breasts were just under his nose. His frown deepened and his
eyes glanced at her cleavage so close to his face he could have
reached out and bit her. She felt more fearful of him now than she
did of the wolf.

In one motion he had her on her back, his
hands holding hers above her head, but pinned to the ground. His
short blade lay at her side.

“Woman, you try my patience!” he spat. “You
will get off the ground immediately and abide by my word from now
on. And don’t ever try such a stunt again. I’ve wasted most the day
hunting you down, and I’ll not waste another minute with this
nonsense.”

She struggled for breath, eyeing the dagger,
wondering if she could get to it before he used it on her.

“I beg your pardon, Lord Sheffield, but I
cannot remove myself from the ground when you are resting atop
me.”

He moved then, and she rolled over quickly
in one motion and reached for the dagger. His hand shot out and
clamped around her wrist. The heat of his palm warmed her and the
mere strength of his fingers wrapped around her, let her know she
had no hope of escaping him now.

“Don’t even think of it,” he warned her.

She released the dagger and in return he
released her wrist slowly, his fingers brushing her skin lightly as
he did so. Whether he meant to do it purposely or not, she felt an
odd tingle dance across her skin. She jerked away from him, eyeing
the back of her palm, scooting across the ground.

“I’m surprised you haven’t used that dagger
yet,” she said, rubbing her wrist and watching him closer.

“On you or the wolf?”

She didn’t answer. The thought of either was
frightening indeed.

He picked up the blade and her eyes widened.
Then he replaced it in his belt and in one swift motion, yanked her
to her feet.

“My lord!” she gasped, crashing into his
strong, hard chest. “That is no way to treat a lady.”

“You are no lady, Ruby, so I needn’t worry,
now shall I?”

She pushed away from him, meaning to run,
but a wolf howled from somewhere in the distance, and she froze her
actions.

“Are you ready to come with me now to
Sheffield?”

She hugged her arms around her body trying
to protect herself from not only him but also the night chill. “But
’tis getting dark, my lord. And I haven’t a horse, as it seems to
have wandered off.”

The wolf howled again in the night, and
instinctively she took a step closer to him. She noticed the corner
of his mouth raise in amusement.

“True,” he said. “And my horse needs rest as
well. We will camp here for the night and head to Sheffield Castle
first thing in the morning instead.”

“What?” She looked up in surprise, but he
was already removing things from his saddlebag. “We can’t stay
here. ’Tis not safe. There are wolves in these woods.”

“The wolves aren’t going to hurt you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He threw down a blanket, and gathered up
twigs and branches for a fire, quickly putting them into a
pile.

“The animal is curious, that’s all. You
leave it alone and it will do the same to you.”

“I don’t believe it. They are vile beasts
that would rip out your throat as you sleep.”

He was hunkered down lighting a fire and
looked up slowly at that comment. “Some say the same about me. So
fast to judge are you, when you know naught of either the wolf nor
myself.”

The firelight lit up his face, his dark
oaken hair gleaming with a soft sheen. His perusing eyes drank her
in, holding within them a secret expression of which she found hard
to decipher. Suddenly, in the soft light of the flickering fire she
saw an odd gentleness she hadn’t noticed before. While she thought
the flames would only make him seem more of the devil she thought
him to be, instead they kissed his skin in a brilliant warmth that
almost made her forget she was alone in the depths of the forest on
a starless night and betrothed to the Lord of Death.

He got to his feet, towering over her small
frame and brushed past her to retrieve something else from his
saddlebag. She remained silent, licking her dry lips as she saw the
flask made from the stomach of a goat, filled with wine, and the
hunk of bread he brought forth. He noticed her watching him and
looked her way, causing her to lower her lashes, finding interest
in the ground instead of having to meet his gaze. He settled
himself on the blanket and with a nod of his head he motioned for
her to sit beside him.

She hesitated, and he looked up to her and
raised a questioning brow.

“Ah, Ruby, I can see you fear me. Now don’t
you think if I wanted you dead, you’d already be?”

Those words should have comforted her? They
did nothing of the sort. Still, she was cold and hungry, and with
one more nod of his head, she followed his command and sat. He
handed her some bread and she shoved it into her mouth eagerly
until her mouth was full, as she was starving, not having eaten at
all this day.

He slowed his chewing when he saw her
eating, and his penetrating stare burned through her as if he
hadn’t ever seen anyone eat before.

“What is it?” she asked. “Why do you look at
me that way? It makes me uncomfortable,” she admitted.

“You have so much to learn, Ruby, about
being a lady. You are to eat and drink daintily. Do you
understand?” There was a bitter edge of cynicism to his words and
also a demanding tone to his voice.

“I don’t want to be a lady.”

“That, my dear is obvious. But you will
become a lady, and ’twill happen soon, as we are about to take our
wedding vows.”

“Then I see no rush, as I have no intention
of ever saying those vows. She grabbed the wine from him and raised
it to her lips, spilling some in the process, but jerking
backwards, managing not to stain her gown.

“Egads, you are incorrigible. Have you never
wondered how it felt to be one of the female species?”

That comment was like a dagger to her heart.
While she had no intention of being a lady, she was indeed a
female! Couldn’t he see that? She pushed the wine toward him and
curled up into a ball, resting her head on her knees.

“I wish to sleep now, my lord.”

“Aye,” he agreed. “We have a long day ahead
of us tomorrow. And though we have been headed in the right
direction all day, we will still have to ride hard to make up for
lost time.”

She had no sooner closed her eyes, then she
found herself drifting off to sleep. And in the midst of her
slumber, she heard the words of Lord Nyle of Sheffield vowing he’d
make her a lady if it was the last thing he ever did.

The sun poked its rays through the trees,
and Nyle of Sheffield lay wide awake atop the blanket like he’d
done most the night, watching over Lady Ruby to ensure her safety.
He couldn’t risk losing another wife, now that he was almost
certain their deaths had not been accidents after all. The assassin
could be on the prowl in these very woods and following them.

Now he almost regretted letting her wander
through the woods for hours yesterday, letting her think he could
not catch her. But since she had been heading in the right
direction, he let her continue. He’d done it purposely, hoping
she’d get disoriented and frightened just to teach her a lesson.
And it worked wonderfully, especially with that little perk of a
wolf showing up just at the right time. But now, after that little
episode, he figured she’d be less apt to cause trouble.

Still, he needed to stay alert to keep a
watchful eye for anything that may seem amiss. Someone hated him so
much that they would do anything to stop him from being guardian to
the king’s bastard. He didn’t understand it, but everything would
be clear as soon as he caught the culprit.

He’d waited until she fell asleep last
night, then he’d collected her horse that he’d seen grazing not far
from their encampment. There was no way he was going to lose any
more of his dowry.

Ruby rested her head against his chest,
snuggled in deeply beneath the crook of his arm. If she knew what
she did, she’d most likely run from him in horror. This woman hated
him, of that there was no doubt in his mind. But then again, he
hadn’t really given her any reason not to. He could have told her
he wasn’t the cold-hearted murderer she saw him to be, but instead
he’d kept his stories to himself as he had for most of his
life.

That’s one thing his father always told him,
was to keep your personal doings to yourself. And though he’d
fought with his father about things that didn’t matter, that was
one thing they’d both agreed on. Nyle liked his privacy and that’s
why the rumors about him cut him deep to the bone. But instead of
setting people straight, he’d let them think what they wanted, and
kept his life as private as he could, and that wasn’t easy in these
days and times.

He didn’t care what she thought of him, he
tried to convince himself. He didn’t need her to be fond of him, he
just needed her as his wife. King Edward would be sending a
messenger soon to tell him where and when to meet him. He wouldn’t
disappoint his sovereign by not doing what he asked. He had a wife
now as the king instructed, and though he’d lost three in the
process, he didn’t plan on divulging that information to King
Edward. At least, not just yet.

If Edward knew someone was trying to stop
Nyle from taking guardianship of the his bastard, so much so that
they’d resorted to murder, the king would never leave the boy in
his care. He had watched over Tibbar since the king first sired the
boy and had become very fond of him during the past year. Nyle
almost felt like a father to the child since the king kept the baby
and banished the boy’s mother, his mistress - Lady Jocelyn. But
then again, thought Nyle, he may feel like the boy’s father because
there was a very good chance he just might be.

Ruby shifted and nuzzled her nose into his
chest. Though her gown was dirty and damp, her hair still smelled
clean and he couldn’t help but rub his cheek against it. He’d never
allowed himself to enjoy any of his wives. And he certainly knew
before he’d even married them that he would never love them.
Actually, he hadn’t been married to any of them for more than a day
before they were murdered, so it hadn’t mattered. Still, he’d made
up his mind to never love a woman again, after what he’d been
through in the past.

Nyle had once fallen in love with a woman.
That is, Lady Jocelyn of the king’s court. Skin soft as satin,
blond hair fine as down, he’d courted her in secret, wishing for
her feminine beauty in his hands, her curvy body clinging to his,
making passionate love. By day he’d serve the king loyally, but by
night, he’d find himself in Jocelyn’s company. And one night they’d
made love, he not knowing that things were going to change from
then on. The next night he’d come to her bedchamber only to find
the king himself already in her bed.

Though it pained him immensely to know he
could never again be with the woman he loved, he stayed on in the
king’s service though he realized she was the king’s mistress and
had never told him. Had he known, he never would have touched the
girl. He had risked his life staying, but he couldn’t bring himself
to leave. He was loyal to his king and stayed in his service, even
after Jocelyn birthed a baby and claimed it to be the king’s
bastard. He just kept his secrets to himself and said nothing.

Jocelyn proved to have never loved him in
return, and also to be quite the little trollop. And when the king
found her bed already occupied with another man one night, she was
banished from his dwellings and the man was executed. But though
Jocelyn cared naught for the baby, never even holding it or paying
it any attention, she must have meant to roil the king before she
left. She told him the baby might not be his, but could very well
be another man’s instead. Nyle wasn’t sure if she meant him or yet
another, but didn’t want to stay to find his head at the blade of
an axe next, should she decide to talk. He tried to leave but the
king insisted he stay and protect his baby named Tibbar, as the boy
had taken a liking to him.