Borderland Bride (19 page)

The patrons paid little attention to her as she stumbled through the inn and onto the streets, hands still bound behind her back. She ran up the main street of the town as fast as she could. It was quiet aside from a few drunks and they paid little attention to her. The ropes burnt against her wrists as she twisted and tugged at them with all her might. One loop loosened enough so she could squeeze her wrist through and she freed it with a sigh of relief. The warm trickle of blood told her victory was not without its cost.

Continuing on, she ran until she reached the outskirts of the town. She had no idea if she was running in the right direction but she could not remain in the town. She had to put as much distance between her and Everard as possible.

Chapter Twelve

Jake reached Durham by nightfall. Situated on a river bend, the water encompassed the large town on three sides. He crossed one of the bridges and glanced up at the square keep that dominated the town. God, let her be here.

He navigated the winding streets with ease until he spotted the painted sign - a red rose with a crown atop it. The Rose and Crown was a top-heavy building with whitewashed walls and black timbers. It was the cleanest and most reputable of the inns in Durham.

Dismounting, he motioned to a stable hand, pressing a coin into his hand. “Keep him ready but see that he is fed and watered. Do not tarry.”

The boy nodded with a wide-eyed glance at the coin and led the destrier to the stables.

Jake burst in through the inn door and stopped in front the nearest serving girl. Her eyes widened as she stared up at him.

“Is Lord Dominic of Thornewall here?”

“A-aye, milord. I-in the private hall.” She motioned to a door across the room.

Wasting no time, he strode across the inn and barged in through the door.

Dominic looked up at him in surprise as his men put their hands to their swords. They sat around a large table with a map in front of them.

“Jake.”

“What news, Brother?”

“We are planning a search of the town. She was definitely here, in another of the inns. Some drunk spotted her trying to escape but she was dragged back inside by Everard.”

Jake clenched his fist. “You’ve searched the inn?”

“Aye. The innkeeper said Everard left with great haste naught more than an hour ago. Isabel was nowhere to be seen.”

“How was it she was even taken?”

Dominic’s gaze dropped. “It seems Everard entered in one of the wagons. He bribed one of the villeins.” He glanced at Jake’s darkening expression. “Fear not, he will be held accountable.”

“Where did Everard go?”

“Northwards. ‘Tis strange to me, for I think it likely Isabel would have sought shelter in the town.”

He ground his teeth as he considered this. Would Isabel cower and hide or would she try to run for Thornewall? To the people she trusted?

“And if you are wrong?”

“I pray that I am not, but what would you have me do? Send men out in all directions? We could search for days and find naught. Isabel surely would have tried to find help in the town.”

Jake shook his head. “I know not. All of Durham knows you are searching for her, surely she would have sent word by now?”

“What do you suggest then, Jake?”

“I will ride north. I am the fastest of the riders here. You continue to search, but we should send extra riders out. If she is here then there then we can assume she is safe but if she is out there…”

“Aye, as you will then.” He motioned to two of the men. “Richard, Will, you two ride out with Jake.”

Jake nodded his thanks and Dominic grabbed at him before he could turn to leave, settling a hand upon his shoulder. “All will be well, Brother.”

“Aye,” he said quietly. If he could only be so confident.

The three men mounted and made for the north bridge. Two roads led north, one that Jake knew veered off towards the coast eventually and the other that led inland. He ordered the two men to follow the coastal path until daylight. If they had not found her by then, then it was likely they would not find her at all.

With a kick, he spurred his mount on. Dear God, he hoped he had chosen the right path.

~* * *~

Isabel froze. Was that a horse? She tilted her head and listened carefully. She could just distinguish a faint thud over the howling wind. She shivered and clenched her arms around herself. Surely it couldn’t be Everard? Isabel stumbled on, her stomach dropping as the sound of hooves grew louder.

A run down cottage sat at the side of the path, its walls damp and grey in the dark night. A little of the straw roof remained and three sides of the wall still stood. With its shadowy corners, it would provide her with cover. Just until she found out whom the rider was.

Someone must have been looking down upon her that eve as she quickly discovered she had run in the right direction when she spotted a stone marker along the road. When the rider was gone, she would continue on.

Scurrying to the protection of the cottage, she glanced around at the ruins as she huddled in a corner. An oak table sat to one side and the crumpled remains of a chair remained at the other end. She stared at the ruins of the chair and ignored the fingers of misgiving that trailed over her spine.

The hoof beats neared.

And stopped.

Oh God.

She risked a peek around the broken wall and her breath caught.

Everard.

Her pulse thudded painfully as she pressed herself into the shadows. The squelch of careful footsteps circling the cottages seemed like the loudest noise in the woods. Isabel struggled to keep her breathing under control but she could feel her chest rising and falling as the panic welled up inside of her. Her palms prickled with sweat as she flattened them against the damp stone of the cottage wall. It was dark enough in the shadows, mayhap he wouldn’t see her?

The sucking sound of mud on boots came nearer and Isabel closed her eyes, willing Everard to disappear. To give up on his quest to claim her as his. He would genuinely delight in bringing her to her knees if he caught her now. Her chest felt hollow as her heart pounded against her ribs. She squeezed her eyes tighter. If only she were in Thornewall, surrounded by those she had come to care for. In Jake’s arms.

She pulled her eyes open slowly. Only the desolate darkness and the sound of impending capture greeted her. She could hear Everard’s heavy breaths. He had likely ridden hard to catch up with her. How was it he had known which way to come? Was God punishing her for her sins? Her thoughts turned to her babe - surely God would not punish her child, too?

The clink of chainmail prompted her to suck in a breath and a chill travelled up her spine as the cold rock met her back. A shudder wracked her and she clenched her arms at her side in an attempt to remain still. She ceased breathing altogether as a shadow entered the crumbling doorway. Isabel could not see his features but she could feel his stony, glinting eyes pass over her. He turned to leave and she released a slow, shaky breath. Her legs trembled beneath her as Everard’s silhouette retreated.
Thank you, Lord, thank you.

With a sudden rattle of metal, Everard was back in the doorway and Isabel slammed herself against the wall. The slow light of dawn highlighted his dark cloak as it broke through the clouds and he seemed like a black demon. Isabel bit back a whimper as tears pricked at her eyes.

“I know you’re in here, sweet Isabel.” He stepped into the ruins with one long, deliberate stride. “Come out and mayhap I’ll not harm you.”

Watching as he circled the room, coming ever closer, her fingers scrabbled at the wall in the vain hope of finding a rock to use as a weapon. Everard spun as he heard her nails scraping the stone and she released a cry as she darted towards the door. He was on her like a bird of prey, clutching at her arms and hauling her to a stop.

“My lady.” He spun her around, forcing a hand through her hair and bunching it into his fist as he laughed. “You should have come out when you had the chance.”

Isabel curled her hand into a ball and hit out at him but he grabbed at her wrist with his other hand, giving her hair a sharp tug. Her scalp felt as it were on fire as he yanked her over to the rotten table.

“Damn you, Everard,” Isabel cried out as she fought against him, lashing out with her free hand. Her nails broke and splintered as she groped uselessly at his chainmail-covered chest.

Everard thrust her over the table, pinning her down with his weight. She found herself crushed against the table, the splintered wood digging into her cheek. Trying to push herself up, she kicked backward but merely succeeded in hitting empty air. His body crushed the breath from her and she became light-headed. Sweet Mary, he was meaning to kill her. Struggling weakly against the wood, his heated breath slid over her cheek as Everard’s lips came to her ear.

“I promised you I’d stripe your back.”

The pressure relieved and she sucked in a deep breath. A rush of cold air hit her back as he tore her gown and chemise open with a rip. She squealed and squirmed but he kept her pinned with his arm across the back of her neck, causing her head to pound.

His sword clattered across the table as Everard flung it to the end and in the corner of her eye, Isabel saw him whip his belt from around his waist. The metal of his sword glinted enticingly and she stretched her fingers out, but he spied her movement and shoved the sword to the floor. It disappeared into the shadows.

Her throat closed over as she saw him raise his arm. “Let me up, Everard,” she rasped, wriggling desperately in his hold.

A crack echoed through the night and a searing pain spread across her back. A shriek left her lips, her head swimming while Everard chuckled at the sound. She clamped her mouth shut and clenched her eyes tightly as her strength deserted her. The leather belt landed again, snapping across her spine, and she howled, unable to prevent the sound from escaping. Isabel braced herself for the next hit, forcing her mind to drift.

The table shook beneath her as a rumbling sound travelled through the stone ruins and the pressure on her neck released suddenly. She jumped up quickly, clutching her gown to her chest.

“Jake!”

Everard scrabbled in the mud as Jake grabbed the back of his hauberk, hauling him to his feet and twisting him around before bringing his fist across his face. Isabel gasped as the grey light of dawn worked its way through the cottage, revealing Jake’s fury. His eyes glowed with hatred, his nostrils flared and his chest heaved. Everard clutched at his jaw with one hand as the other reached behind him. Isabel saw the flash of steel and dashed forward, stomping her foot onto the blade before Everard had a chance to grab it.

Jake latched his hand around Everard’s neck, bringing him to his feet once more, and dragged him into the pale morning light. Isabel hurried behind them, snatching at the mud-covered sword and hefting it into her hand as it slipped in her grasp.

She gulped as she saw Jake throw Everard to the floor and circle him. Never before had she seen him so angry.

Everard grinned manically, his teeth red with blood. “You are the lord of Thornewall?” He turned to Isabel as he clambered unsteadily to his feet. “You would choose him over me?”

Isabel pointed the heavy sword at him, aware of the visible tremble of her arm. “Aye. Aye, I would. I love him, you see.”

Jake flicked a look of surprise at her and she offered a hesitant smile. Jake opened his mouth to respond but Everard used their distraction to his advantage and barrelled into Jake, knocking him to the floor. The two men twisted and fought, grunting and cursing as the mud coated their armour.

Isabel watched on, biting at her lip. She clutched the sword but she could not find the chance to use it. She was no killer.

Everard came out briefly on top, swinging his fists into Jake’s torso. Jake fended off the blows with ease and shoved him back. Leaping forwards, Isabel brought the sword across Everard’s chest and he froze in place, eyeing the blade warily.

“Enough,” she ordered.

Jake swiped at a trickle of blood that escaped his nose and came wearily to his feet. Drawing out his sword, he brought it up to Everard’s neck, his eyes narrow and dark.

In pain, and exhausted, Isabel let her arm drop, the sword hanging limply at her side.

Everard licked at his lips, easing his head back from the blade that danced dangerously close to his flesh. “Shall you kill me then, my lord? You would risk the wrath of the king for that whore?”

Jake growled and pulled the sword back to swing at him, his eyes wide.

“Jake, stop.” Isabel stepped in front of him. “You are no killer, Jake. Leave him be. He will be held accountable for his actions.”

“Isabel, step aside,” he warned.

“Nay, this is what he wants, do you not see? Death is easy enough for him. Let him have his titles and riches stripped.”

Everard laughed behind her. “Aye, listen to the woman, great lord. ‘Tis a sad day that sees a man of such power buckle under the will of a whore.”

Jake stepped forward, his sword threatening to sweep down, but paused as his gaze locked with hers. The sinewy tension in his body slowly melted and his eyes softened as he took her in.

She reached out to him, tentatively wrapping her fingers over his forearm, and she could feel his veins pulse beneath her fingers.

“Isabel,” he murmured, sending a thrill through her. Jake’s eyes widened. “Isabel!”

The sword wrenched from her hand and Isabel found herself pulled back into the mud-slickened grasp of Everard. Jake grabbed for her at the same time but froze as Everard brought the sword across her neck.

Isabel gulped as the steel brushed against her skin.
Fool!

“Let her go, Everard, and I’ll let you live.”

“Isabel is mine. I
will
have her.” He backed away from Jake, gripping one of Isabel’s arms and twisting it up behind her back.

She held back a cry as pain shot up her arm.
Breathe, Isabel.
Her eyes remained on Jake’s, whose expression blazed with fear and anger. She willed him to understand her. His eyes narrowed marginally as he stalked forward, shadowing Everard’s steps. Jake gave her a barely perceptible nod and she closed her eyes.