Seduced (38 page)

"How could ye possibly have known?"

"I have known 'twas Letia right from the time
you returned from Seton and told us about your lily-scented woman.
Do you know many women who prefer the scent of Lilies, ye dafty
eejit!" Caitlin scowled at him.

Ranald tilted his head and studied Raik's
face. "Ye must have been clobbered on the head harder than I
thought. No other woman at Seton can compare to Letia's lithe form,
her strong arms and legs. Not even my Caitlin has the strength of
body to equal hers."

Caitlin nodded her head. "We were sure the
first night you slept together as man and wife that you'd recognize
her body."

With all the clues right in front of him, he
had been blind to them. Caitlin was right. He was an eejit. The
thought made him squirm in his seat. But the most important
argument made him bang his fist on the table.

"She used me as a breeding stallion. I have
had her locked away in her bedchamber. She is forbidden to leave
until I decide what to do."

"You addlepated ninny!" Catalin took a deep
breath and glared at him.

"Look at it through a woman's eyes," Ranald
said. He nodded at Caitlin and smiled.

"I know Ranald told you I was already
increasing when we married. I did not tell him of it afore we wed.
I kept it secret. He was furious when he found out. But he did not
lock me away like some enraged animal." She punched Raik's arm to
keep his attention. "At least you were not presented with another
man's child. Aubrey is your own, no matter how he came about."

Ranald smiled and nodded at him. Somehow,
that look of understanding broke Raik's anger. Letia had been wrong
to seduce him, but she had been in an impossible situation. He
cringed at realizing how harsh he had been with her. He who always
championed women had treated her as a man would have if she'd been
unfaithful to him.

o0o

Raik, feeling easier in his mind after having
spent those several days in Ranald and Catalin's company, rode at
the head of his small army. He looked forward to finishing his
business and returning home to Seton

Two days after leaving Hunter, they rode west
of Crookham heading toward Kelso Abbey. The day was wet and
miserable, making their progress slow with the muddy paths. Men at
the end of the line of warriors started calling out to him. He
stood in the stirrups and twisted to see a single horseman riding
for all he was worth to reach him. When the man came within view,
he noted the new black livery so much alike Ranald's that he'd
ordered made for Seton's night patrol. Fear struck his mind that
the castle was under siege and that it may even be falling by
now.

"My Lord," the man called out as he skidded
to a stop. "An urgent message from Sir Cormac!"

Blood splattered the man's clothing as well
as his saddle and the side of the horse. Raik stared at the man's
face, trying to place him at Seton. He frowned, not being able to
recall ever seeing him on the training fields. But then, he had not
been Baron of Seton long enough to be familiar with every soldier
there.

"Well, man. Dinna keep me waiting."

"Sir Cormac had urgent word from the guard at
the Convent of Mary Magdalen. Scotsmen are attempting to pry the
Lady Muriele from their care. They urge all haste to protect
her."

"How many days past?"

"Four, at the most." The tired horse swayed
and looked ready to drop.

"Stay and rest your horse for the night. You
can catch up with us afterward."

Word passed down the line from one man to the
next. Raik did not need to tell them more when he spurred Storm.
The huge horse leapt forward, Raik bent low over his neck. They
would easily reach the convent in a day's travel.

o0o

The past two days at Seton had been
especially tiresome for Letia. Aubrey refused to nap and seemed
unable to settle down. At nightfall, after he slept soundly, the
guards carried the cradle and followed Maud back to her room. Freki
prowled around, sniffing the air coming through the open shutters,
making her uneasy.

Letia was bone weary. No matter how she
worded her questions, the men gave her an evasive answer. Giles,
too, must be obeying Raik's orders that she not have anything to do
with the castle's defense. His usual laughing face turned serious
when she probed. When he came for Freki that night, he talked and
quipped, one eye on the open doorway. When he prepared to tie the
rope to Freki's leather collar, he brought the dog closer to her
and ran his finger beneath the leather.

"My lady, do you think the great beastie is
in need of a larger restraint?" He tugged Letia's skirts, motioning
for her to bend close.

She leaned down and her hand followed his to
his boot to pull something out. His left hand nudged her fingers.
She felt a wooden grip covered with leather and wire wrapping.
'Twas her favorite dagger.

"Aye." Letia nodded and spoke louder. "His
weight gain is Cook's doing. She saves him all the scraps not fit
for men to eat. Afore long, he'll be big as those Highland
cows."

While she talked, she slipped the sheathed
dagger under the chair, hidden from the guards.

"I'll ask the tanner on the morrow if he has
the leavings of an old belt. The softer leather will be kinder to
his neck when he pulls ahead." Giles straightened from tying the
rope to the ring on Freki's collar.

Letia's scratched the dog's head and thumped
his sides. "Thank you." She smiled at her squire, thanking him for
the dagger and his care of the beast. "Now, do not pull Giles to
the ground if you spot a barn cat, Freki."

After they left, she sat in her favorite
chair, covered in her woolen blanket until she no longer heard
anyone in the keep moving about. Her gaze probed the darkness
outside one more time before she left the chair and retrieved the
dagger.

If Raik were here, his confidence would have
stilled everyone's worries about an enemy lurking about. She
entered the solar and went over to his clothing chest. Kneeling,
she opened it and let her fingertips smooth over the white shirt
folded on top of the other clothing. She took it and stood to
return to the bedchamber.

Beside the bed, she shrugged off her robe and
pulled Raik's shirt over her head. Though she was tall for a woman,
it reached a hand's width below her knees. She brought the neck
opening up to cover her nose and cheeks and took a deep breath. Her
eyes closed at the familiar scent. Sighing, she hugged it around
herself and climbed into bed. Rolling to her right side, she pulled
his pillow up against her body.

Though Goda had brought clean linens, Letia
had not let her change Raik's pillow casing. Sighing, she slid the
dagger beneath the pillow, placing it so her fingertips brushed
against its grip. The comforts of his scent on the pillow, his
shirt against her body and having her familiar weapon close by soon
lulled her into an exhausted sleep.

Her night was untroubled until she began
dreaming about Warin. Sadness spread its heavy cloak around her
shoulders as she sat beside her dying husband. He tried to tell her
something. His lips struggled to form the words, his eyes filled
with fear. Light scuffling sounds drowned out his whisper. Leaning
close, she felt the soft puff of his breath on her cheek.

On hearing his harsh words, an agonized cry
burst from her lips.

o0o

Raik shuddered when they rode out of the
forested hill into the small valley, a convent at its far side. The
ground around the convent walls was vacant of any marauding force.
Nothing hinted at a forced entry.

He reined in Storm at a spot short of the
convent's tower. He shouted at the guard, who recognized him. The
gates creaked open and Raik's patrol rode through. He vaulted off
his horse and hurried over to the Mother Superior waiting in the
courtyard.

"'Tis good to see you, Baron. I have heard of
your good fortune. What brings you to Mary Magdalen?"

He saw the question in her eyes.

"The Lady Muriele? Is she safe? A messenger
near killed his horse finding me to come to her aide." He turned,
his gaze scanning down the line of horsemen. With a sinking heart,
he saw no sight of the man who had warned them.

"The lady is safe. She is just now coming
from the gardens. Perhaps the man was mistaken?" She turned and
gestured to a woman coming toward them.

When Muriele spied Raik, she hurried to greet
him.

Her words rushed out. "Has something
happened? Is it Letia? Or Elyne?"

"Lucifer's rotted boils! A bloodied messenger
told me Scotsmen had come for you here. 'Twas a ploy to draw me
away from Seton! Julian must be attacking the castle."

'Twas his own fault! On not recognizing the
messenger, he should have held him and questioned his men if anyone
knew the stranger. The courtyard became a frantic flurry of
activity as the men watered their horses, filled their own flasks
and prepared to remount. The good sisters hurried to bring bread,
cheese and apples.

At the well, Raik splashed water over his
head and face then took his water flask from Edulf and tied it to
his saddle. An elderly nun handed him a linen cloth wrapped around
his food. He thanked her and stuffed it into his saddlebag.

"Take care, Muriele. Ever be watchful for
treachery." He kissed her cheek then bowed to the Mother Superior
and the nuns. "Thank you for your kindness." He swung back up into
the saddle.

They trotted the horses out of the convent,
and when far enough that their hooves wouldn't kick dust into the
women's faces, he urged Storm into a gallop.

If they traveled hard, they would reach Seton
late the next day. They rode through the night, stopping to water
the horses and let them catch their wind. Once the animals rested,
the men mounted and rode on.

With each league they drew closer, the more
he feared hearing the steady bombardment of siege engines, the
clatter of swords and the screams of wounded men and horses.

He groaned, nearly biting his tongue in two.
Not only was his mother and son in danger, but all the people of
Seton he had grown to like and respect.

But the thought of Letia frightened him the
most. If Julian captured her, he would likely tear her limb from
limb. He had promised a terrible punishment for the person who had
insulted him so horribly as to douse him in piss.

A strange cry, long and deep throated,
traveled on the breeze from the forest beyond. All was quiet for
the space of mayhap ten breaths until a howl started low and rose
to a peak before it softened and ended in a sad moan. The air
echoed and throbbed with the jarring wails.

As they drew closer, his nape felt like a
thousand ants had attacked his flesh. Only one animal had the wind
and chest to make such fearful sounds.

Freki!

In the forest ahead, the dog tore through the
thick brush out onto the open path. Embedded near that fleshy spot
where his right shoulder blade started, was a broken arrow. Each
time the shaft had hit a branch, the arrowhead tortured the dog.
Blood matted the hair around wounds on his back and sides, whether
caused from weapons or sturdy bushes, Raik didn't know. When Freki
saw him, he dropped to the ground, resting his mournful face on his
bloody paws. Whining, he looked up, his sad, yellow eyes
pleading.

Raik jumped off Storm and ran to him.

"I know, I know, Freki. We'll save her. Dinna
fear," he muttered.

Edulf helped as he gently explored around the
arrow. Its battle with the bushes, though painful to the dog, had
near worked it out of Freki's flesh. As gently as he could, he
quickly pulled it free.

"He is used to you, Edulf. He cannot make it
back to Seton without help." Raik waited until his squire mounted.
Edulf leaned sideways on his horse to help as Raik struggled to
lift the huge dog. Freki wouldn't let any of the other men near.
Finally, they settled the dog across his squire's thighs.

He vaulted back on Storm and they were off
again, forcing their horses to an even more urgent speed.

When they came close to entering the clearing
facing Seton, they drew their swords and raised their shields.
'Twas quiet. Too quiet. Raik looked around in surprise. Debris
littering the ground showed an enemy had been there. Where were
they now? His heartbeats started to calm. It seemed Seton's
greeting had convinced Julian to retreat.

Nay, 'twas a false calm. The rapid lowering
of the drawbridge when the guards spotted him caught his attention.
That they raised the portcullis in record time alarmed him even
more.

As he galloped across the drawbridge, Edmund
hurriedly waved him through. Frantic shouts and gestures from
guards atop the barbican told him Julian had somehow won the
day.

Ragged claws of fear ripped through his
gut.

"You are mine, now, until your last
breath."

Warin's voice sounded cruel to Letia, not
like the gentle man who had always protected her.

A heavy body covered her, forcing her deep
into the bed. A vicious hand clamped over her lips.

Letia's brain snapped awake. Julian had her
pinned beneath him. He gripped her left wrist and brought it behind
her, pressing her face into the pillow to muffle any sounds. He
straddled her. Her right hand grabbed the dagger.

Her strength was no longer a well-honed
woman's strength. But terror for Aubrey and all the people within
the castle's walls turned her into a fighting wolf. She bucked and
struggled, twisting from the waist. She jerked her left arm and
forced him to turn, exposing his left side.

'Twas what Letia wanted. She took a deep
breath, grunted with exertion and heaved up. Her right hand flashed
beneath his arm. Her dagger plunged. The blade grated against a
rib, forcing it into the flesh at the side of his chest. It plunged
to the hilt.