Cast Love Aside (3 page)

“Will you be quiet?” Magnus hissed at him.
“You talk too much!”

“You intend to abduct my uncle?” Lilianne
asked, looking at Magnus. “How interesting.”

Magnus ceased glaring his disapproval at
Braedon and turned to Lilianne. Just looking at her gave him great
pleasure, for she was utterly unlike the dainty, fragile little
women he met at court, ladies so slender and pale they gave the
impression that a mild breeze would easily blow them away.

He didn't think Lilianne was likely to be
blown away by the strongest gust of wind. Her height almost matched
Magnus's own, and she glowed with life and robust good health. Hair
like a thick black cloud tumbled around her face and shoulders,
reaching almost to her waist. Lilianne's eyes were an incredible
shade of pure violet, a color far richer and deeper than the
amethyst that nestled beneath the neckline of her green wool gown,
where it rested against the lush curves of her full breasts.

Magnus knew if he touched those remarkable
breasts, they'd fit perfectly into his large hands. Male instinct
told him that, if he pressed his mouth on hers, Lilianne's lips
would open like rose petals, sweetly giving way to his eager
tongue. He could imagine her astonished gasp as his tongue first
touched hers. Sudden heat surged into his lower body.

Sometimes, Magnus thought ruefully, even the
strictest self-discipline wasn't enough to prevent a man from
wanting what he ought not to desire.

“Well, Sir Magnus,” Lilianne said, not
flinching under his hot gaze, “will you accept the bargain I've
offered?”

“What bargain is that?” Braedon asked.

“I will conduct you to Uncle Erland's private
room. He’ll open the door to me, which will save you the trouble of
breaking it down.”

“You are willing to betray your own kin?”
Braedon exclaimed, looking displeased.

“I want to know where he has sent Gilbert,”
Lilianne explained. “Magnus will force him to tell me the
truth.”

“Are you suggesting that your dear uncle is
untrustworthy?” Braedon asked in a mocking way.

“Why do you want to abduct him?” Lilianne
responded.

“Enough. We are wasting time.” Magnus grasped
Lilianne's elbow. “You may show us where Count Erland's room is.
Try no trickery, my lady, for if you do, I'll not hesitate to use
my sword on you. And if you are dead, you'll never learn where your
precious brother is.”

Lilianne didn't believe the threat. Magnus
wasn't the kind of man who would harm a woman. She knew that vital
fact about him as surely as she knew her own name.

Erland's private room was on the opposite
side of the manor from Lilianne's bedchamber and was reached by an
open gallery that looked down on the hall. Glancing over the rail,
Lilianne saw men-at-arms sprawled across the trestle tables, some
with their heads in their plates, some resting on the wooden planks
near overturned wine cups. Several men sat on the floor with their
eyes closed, stupefied expressions on their faces, and their backs
against the wall.

“How were you able to get sleeping herbs into
all the wine?” Lilianne asked.

“Never mind that,” Magnus responded. He
looked around suspiciously as they moved from the gallery to a
short, dark corridor. “Where is Erland? For your brother's sake,
this had better not be a trick.”

“Of course it's not a trick.” Lilianne pulled
her arm from Magnus’s grip so she could knock on the only door in
the hall. No one answered. She knocked again.

“Do not disturb me,” came an irritated growl
from within.

“Uncle Erland,” Lilianne called, “let me in.
I need to speak with you.”

“Later,” Erland responded.

“Please,” Lilianne persisted. “It's
important.”

“Leave me alone!”

Lilianne knocked harder. “I must speak with
you
now! “

“Cursed wench! Go away!”

Lilianne sensed the growing impatience of the
men who flanked her, standing so they'd be hidden from immediate
view when the door opened. Braedon cursed under his breath. Magnus
remained quiet, yet Lilianne could feel his tension. With
broadsword in hand, he waited with a silent attention that bespoke
implacable determination.

Lilianne was certain he’d not depart from
Manoir Sainte Inge unless he took Erland with him. Once he held
Erland in his power, he'd find out what Lilianne wanted to know
about Gilbert. Though he had offered no formal, spoken vow, she was
certain he would keep his part of their bargain.

“Shall we break down the door?” Braedon asked
softly.

“Let me try once more.” Lilianne took a deep
breath, lifted her fist, and banged on the door as hard as she
could, not caring if she bruised her hand. Her brother's safety was
worth a few bruises.

“Damn you!” The door was wrenched open with
such force that it slammed back against the wall. “I told you to
leave me alone!”

“Good evening, uncle.” Lilianne tried to step
into Erland's room, but he blocked her entry.

“You pestilential female,” Erland snarled at
her. “Don't you know better than to interrupt me while I'm
working?”

“There is a problem,” Lilianne said,
reluctantly stepping closer to him in hope of making him retreat
into the room. She should have known better. Erland never
retreated, least of all from a woman.

“I expect you to discuss any domestic
problems with my steward,” he told her.

“Not
your
steward, Uncle,” Lilianne
said softly. “He is Gilbert's steward. This is still Gilbert's
manor.”

Erland's pale blue eyes gleamed with icy fire
at the reminder of his true status at Manoir Sainte Inge, and his
jutting nose seemed to Lilianne to grow longer as his expression
darkened. He was in his mid forties, a little shorter than
Lilianne, and his dark hair was streaked with grey. Erland stepped
toward her, closing the distance between them until his sleeve
brushed against her when he moved his arm in an angry gesture.

Disliking the way he crowded her, Lilianne
fell back a pace, which was probably what Erland expected her
reaction to be. He could not have expected Magnus to move between
him and Lilianne. For a moment, Erland looked bewildered.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded,
recovering from his surprise. Then, raising his voice, “Malbard!
Amery! Help!”

“Your men won't come,” Magnus said, lifting
his sword so the tip was pointing at Erland's belly. “They are all
asleep.”

Erland went very still, regarding the
intruders intently. His gaze flicked to Braedon and to Lilianne,
then returned to Magnus.

“So, you are using my niece to gain access to
me,” Erland said. “What do you want?”

“You.” Magnus pushed forward relentlessly
until Erland backed up a single step, and then another step.
Suddenly, all three men and Lilianne were inside the room. Braedon
closed the door and stood braced against it.

Erland spun on his heel, heading for the
unsheathed sword that lay on the large table he used as a desk.
Magnus got to the table first and grabbed the sword. Holding a
weapon in each hand, he again confronted Erland. Glaring in outrage
Erland looked from Magnus to Braedon. Then he faced Lilianne with
unconcealed fury.

“You stupid wench! What idiocy have you
committed now?”

“They said they needed to speak with you,”
Lilianne said. How useful armed men could be; for once she wasn't
trembling before her uncle out of fear for Gilbert's sake. “I
thought they must be some of your spies, who required
instructions,” she added with false innocence.

“Spies?” Erland roared at her. “Spies,
indeed! Why would you think such a thing?”

“I am not the fool you imagine me to be,”
Lilianne told him.

“No,” Erland replied with a sneer, “you are
something worse than a fool. You are a typically witless female,
who has convinced herself that she knows what is going on. You know
nothing, Lilianne. There is nothing for you to know. These men have
gained entrance here by incapacitating my men-at-arms. They will
pay for their misdeeds, after which, I assure you, niece, you will
pay for leading them to my private chamber.”

“Tell me, Count Erland,” Braedon said, moving
away from the door, “exactly what do you intend to do to Lady
Lilianne?”

Erland shifted position to watch him. With
suspicion clear on his face, his gaze darting from the writing
materials on his desk to the tapestry covering one wall, to the two
intruders, Erland followed Braedon's seemingly random movements
about the room.

Lilianne gave little heed to them. Since the
first instant of meeting Magnus, she had regarded his every
movement with enthralled fascination. Because she was so intensely
aware of him, she had recognized the motion of his eyes and the
quick tilt of his chin as signals to Braedon to hold Erland's
attention. She saw how Magnus silently stepped behind Erland while
her uncle was watching Braedon. For so large a man, Magnus was
remarkably agile, rather like a huge cat.

Suddenly, with no warning, Magnus clipped
Erland on the back of the head, using the hilt of Erland's own
sword. Erland folded up like a jointed doll and crumpled to the
floor.

“Oh!” Lilianne gasped, both hands at her
mouth. “You've killed him. Now I’ll never learn where Gilbert is.
That’s a terrible thing to say, I know, but it’s true. I don’t care
about Uncle Erland at all, not after what he has done to us.”

“He's not dead,” Magnus said, throwing down
Erland's sword and sheathing his own blade. “He’ll wake up soon.
Well done, Braedon.”

“You were deliberately distracting him so
Magnus could get close behind him,” Lilianne accused Braedon.

“I was,” Braedon said, grinning at her. “You
know it had to be done. He'd never go with us willingly, so we'd
waste time fighting him, and possibly injure him. We don't want to
hurt Erland; we want him alive and well.”

“Stop your continual chattering and help me,”
Magnus ordered. He was kneeling next to Erland, tying the
unconscious man's hands behind his back with a leather thong he had
pulled from a pouch at his belt. “Come on, Braedon. You said it
yourself; we don't have much time. Those men below, and the ones at
the gate, will begin to waken soon.”

Braedon went to his knees to tie Erland's
feet together. Having finished with Erland's hands, Magnus rose and
stepped over to the table to regard the jumble of parchment, quill
pens, and ink bottles that revealed what Erland's work was. He had
been busy writing something when he was interrupted. Magnus
gathered up the pieces of parchment.

“What are those?” Lilianne asked.

“I'm not sure. I'll read them later. They may
be important.” Magnus folded the parchment and stuffed the bundle
under his tunic, tightening his belt to hold it in place.

“What do you intend to do with my uncle?”
Lilianne asked.

“After the way he talked to you, do you
really care?” Magnus regarded her somberly. “No lady ought to be
treated with such contempt.”

“I'm used to it,” Lilianne said.

“Erland is going to England with us,” Braedon
announced, getting to his feet.

“I do wish you and William would learn to
keep your mouths shut,” Magnus told him.

“Sorry.” Braedon just grinned at the
admonition. “Do you want me to carry him in penance for my loose
tongue? He'll be dead weight.”

“I'll take him.”

While Lilianne gaped in amazement, Magnus
bent and lifted Erland, tossing the trussed-up man over his
shoulder with breathtaking ease.

“Let's go,” Magnus commanded. “
Now,
Lilianne.”

At his imperious gesture, she preceded the
men out the door and along the gallery toward the stairs that led
down to the hall.

She was reluctant to allow Magnus and his
friends to remove Erland from Manoir Sainte Inge until she learned
where Gilbert was being kept. But they were not likely to accept
any further delay, and Erland didn't look as if he'd waken
soon.

Lilianne knew she wasn't strong enough to
prevent the men from departing with their prisoner. Therefore, she
was going to have to leave the manor with them and stay with them
until her uncle woke up, so she could talk to him with Magnus
nearby to back her demand for answers about Gilbert.

She wasn't sure how she was going to convince
Magnus to let her go along with him, or what his reaction would be
when she insisted, but she was too honest not to admit to herself
how glad she was to find an excuse to spend more time with the
exciting stranger.

Down in the hall, Magnus found William
steadfastly performing his assigned duty of guarding the men who
had fallen victim to the drugged wine. With his mouth firmly set
and his broadsword in hand, William looked ready to stop any
man-at-arms who roused himself to give an alarm.

A young woman in a grey woolen gown was
keeping close to William, as if to seek his protection. Having
learned from Lilianne that there were only two females at the
manor, and noting the way the girl kept her hands piously clasped
together at her waist, Magnus assumed she was Alice, the novice
whom Erland had withdrawn from a convent to be a companion to his
niece.

“Oh, my dear!” the girl cried, rushing toward
Lilianne. “Are you all right? Please, tell me you aren't hurt.”

“No one has harmed me,” Lilianne assured
her.

“I was so afraid for you,” Alice murmured,
laying her head on Lilianne's bosom with a familiarity that caused
Magnus a brief pang of envy, especially when Lilianne responded
with words of comfort as she caressed the girl's light brown hair
with a gentle hand.

Magnus was so startled by his own reaction to
the sight of Lilianne in a tender embrace that he halted his
progress across the hall to stare at her. His sudden longing to
experience Lilianne's arms enfolding him and to feel her hands
gently smoothing his hair was so strong that he could not move
until the sound of Braedon's voice recalled him to the bleak
reality of his mission.