Claire Delacroix (20 page)

“Then, win Calum’s.”

She stared after him and shook her head. “I am not convinced that men of war have tender hearts, let alone that they could surrender the advantage of them to another.” She looked suddenly so saddened that I knew she recalled her lost Alasdair.

I gave her a hug, hoping to encourage her to trust another man with her affections. “If any woman could soften the heart of a knight, it would be you. Now, you know there are a dozen gowns in that trunk. Come choose two or three.”

“I shall let you choose. I shall ask Ada for a needle and thread that we might shorten this hem. Already I have shown that I am not wrought for leisure!” We laughed together. Mavella headed for the kitchen with purpose and I strode to the solar.

My footsteps echoed as I hastened through the hall - which seemed more achingly empty since Calum’s departure - but the Yule log crackled and cast a heartening light. I decided this hall had need of guests and music to be at its best, and began to wonder how I might ensure that such a solution came about.

A wedding, of course, would be a hearty beginning.

I anticipated a leisurely afternoon of chatting with Mavella, ensuring that she would be garbed to perfection when next she met Calum of Dunkilber. I climbed to the solar and stopped short at the summit of the stairs, my smile fading.

Merlyn stood within the chamber, arms folded across his chest, his irked gaze fixed upon me.

* * *

Merlyn’s eyes were dark, a stormy hue that hinted at troubled seas ahead for me. He arched a brow when our gazes met, though he said naught. He clearly had been waiting for me and my heart lunged for my throat.

The room was falling dark already, only one lantern lit to dispel the wintery shadows. The light gilded Merlyn’s features but I could not guess his thoughts with any exactitude.

He was annoyed, I thought because of our parting this morning. Why it should have angered him so vigorously only now was beyond my comprehension - but then, so was much of Merlyn.

He wore a black tunic marked in silver with his family insignia, black chausses and tall black boots. An indigo cloak that fell to his ankles was held upon one shoulder with that fine golden clasp, wrought in the shape of the family bird, and the silver fur lining shimmered slightly when he moved.

Merlyn’s garb was somber compared to that of the knight who had just departed - he looked wrought of shadow and as inclined to fade to nothing as a shadow could be. I could not, in this moment, imagine how or why I had thought his vigor diminished in the caverns the day before.

He was indomitable once again.

His voice was low when he spoke. “Have you changed your thinking? Do you intend to aid me?”

I shook my head, shaken to silence by my sudden fear that he meant to leave.

And yes, by my unexpected desire for him. He noted the change in my garb, for his gaze swept over me, but I was disappointed that I could read no responding heat in his eyes. I hoped, for a foolish moment, that he intended to sweep me into the bed and persuade me to his view.

But Merlyn donned his gloves, his lips drawn to a taut line. “I suspected as much. Know that I have seen fit to persuade you to share my view,
chère
.”

His manner frightened me. “And what is that to mean?”

Without further explanation, he strode across the room and lifted one hand to the wall. The wood panel there slid back at his touch, revealing a gaping entry on the far side of the bed.

“This keep is a veritable warren,” I muttered, “riddled with holes from top to bottom.”

“My family oft have need of discreet arrivals and departures.”

“I can well imagine that vermin must oft escape the witnesses of their deeds.”

“While you are entirely innocent,
chère
?” His was not truly a question, though his tone was surprisingly harsh. “I think not.”

“And what is that to mean?”

“You seem to have wasted no time in finding a suitor for your hand, and indeed, you expend little time in the courtship. Clearly you make haste to end your days as a widow.” Merlyn spat the words and I saw now the reason for his annoyance. “Perhaps it is timely for me to depart, so that you can share this bed without fear of interruption.”

I propped my hands upon my hips, unwilling to give him any hint of my intent. “While you have been chaste all these years? What of all those merry wenches who would have been disappointed if I had still been in your bed?”

“I gave them nothing,” he said fiercely.

“Save a child or two?” I was guessing, hoping for a morsel of news about his doings, though I dared not examine why. I certainly was not jealous of any woman who caught Merlyn’s eye!

Just as he could not be jealous of Calum. No, he simply preferred to control my every decision and I knew that he had not invited our guest.

His eyes flashed now as he gestured at me. “Do you intend to wed and bestow Ravensmuir’s seal upon another before I can prove that I live?”

“And what if I did?” I demanded, annoyed myself that his sole care was for Ravensmuir. “I shall take a thousand lovers and grant them each a stone of this hall, if only to vex you!”

Merlyn advanced upon me, shaking a heavy finger. “You will not!”

“Suddenly you have a care for me, but only because another man shows his desire, only because Ravensmuir is at stake.” I tossed back my hair and glared at him, for he stood directly before me now. That familiar heat rose between us. My blood was a-boil, as it had not been all of this day in Calum’s company. “You have a curious way of persuading a woman to take your cause, Merlyn.”

“And what way would you prefer?” he purred.

He eased closer and I could smell the heat of him. My heart was racing and I tingled from head to toe, every increment of my flesh screaming for his touch. Oh, we had loved once after we had argued over some petty nonsense and I will never forget the majestic fury of that mating.

I could think of nothing else in that moment, nothing but Merlyn’s burning kisses and his heat within me, nothing but the way we had rolled and bit and tormented each other to greater heights. Indeed, I was blushing, my cheeks were burning, my nipples taut and my fists clenched. It seemed to me that he too recalled that fiery coupling, for his eyes were darker than dark, as if he burned with a secret desire.

Then he suddenly looked away. “I have no time for this,” he muttered and stepped toward the shadowed portal.

Oh! I would not be a mere inconvenience!

“Hiding your thoughts from me,
chère
?” I whispered audaciously.

Merlyn froze on the lip of the chasm and looked back at me, his expression grim. “You accuse me of lying to you about my trade, so you would wed another man in haste, knowing less of him than you knew of me. You learn little from your errors, Ysabella.”

I noticed that again he ceased to call me his
chère
. Indeed, he bit out my name as if it burned his tongue.

“Who spoke of marriage? The man came to meet his neighbor.”

“And offered a kiss upon the mouth, so early as this? A kiss that was not merely accepted but returned with enthusiasm?” Merlyn clucked his tongue chidingly. “It is either marriage or relations abed without a priest’s blessing that you offer your neighbor.”

“You watched!” I gasped, then lunged after him.

Merlyn caught my chin in his hand, his eyes glittering. “You may be certain that I am watching you. When my own fate relies so heavily upon your choices I can do little else. And when you make such poor choices as to trust a man of the ilk of Calum Scott, then you have need of a watchful eye upon you.”

“You insult the man’s character solely out of jealousy!”

“I warn you,
chère
.”

“Not to favor any man but you. Aye, I understand that well enough, Merlyn Lammergeier, and still I will do whatsoever I desire.” I pushed his patience and I knew it well, but mine was nigh expired. “You are dead, husband mine, and a widow must assure her future among the living.”

Merlyn’s eyes narrowed but not quickly enough that I didn’t note the familiar spark in their depths. His thumb moved persuasively across my jawline, a new note coloring the mingled heat of our breath. His next words rumbled low in his chest.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice dark, “how does his kiss compare with mine?”

I said nothing, but held his regard defiantly, hoping with all my heart and soul.

And it was but a moment before I had my desire, before Merlyn claimed my lips with all the possessive ardor I had hoped he would. He drove the taste of Calum from me and deluged my senses with himself, solely himself. There was no comparison and he knew it well - he had witnessed tepid Calum’s embrace, after all.

When he eventually lifted his head, we both were disheveled and short of breath. He pressed his gloved thumb against my lips before I could comment and his words were rough. “Do not lie to me that his kiss burned brighter than mine. I know this truth.”

I took a ragged breath and pulled away. “You will not persuade me to do your will, not with mere kisses.”

Merlyn smiled a smile that fed my distrust. “Which is why I have taken the liberty of granting you some encouragement.”

Too late I was suspicious, too late I recalled his earlier warning. “What manner of encouragement?”

“Have you seen the boy this afternoon?” Merlyn asked with false innocence, then snapped his fingers as if in recollection. “No, of course, you were entertaining a guest.”

I snatched at his sleeve in fear. “What have you done with Tynan? Merlyn? Tell me!”

Merlyn smiled his most wicked smile. “I have invited him upon an adventure and he, intrepid boy that he is, has accepted.”

I was stunned.

He watched me avidly, noting every detail of my response.

“You have stolen him.” I met his gaze, incredulous. “What will you do to him if I fail to follow your bidding?”

Merlyn turned away. “It matters little what I would do,” he said with surprising heat. “It matters only what you believe I might do.”

I knew then a terror greater than any I have ever tasted. “I beg of you, Merlyn, do not involve the boy in your schemes. I will do anything...”

“Now, you would make a wager.” He shook his head, appearing much saddened by my choices. “It is clear that I found the correct means of encouraging you, when simple trust would not suffice.”

“How could I trust you, after all I know of you?”

“You know nothing of me,” he growled, then flung me away from him in annoyance. He strode down the stairs half hidden by shadows, even the echo of his boots fading in no time at all. I leaned out into the hidden stairwell, smelling dampness and darkness and goodness knows what, my heart hammering.

“Merlyn!” I shouted.

The fading echo of this boots on stone was my only reply.

* * *

Whether by accident or design, Merlyn had left the portal agape. In any other circumstance, I would not have pursued him into the blackness. But Tynan’s life was at stake. My own fears of the dark were as nothing compared to my need to protect my brother.

Worse, time was of the essence. I seized the lantern and lifted it high, my heart fluttering in terror at what I must do. I gritted my teeth, swallowed my rising bile, and stepped into the darkness in pursuit.

I had descended but six steps when a gust of wind buffeted me. It smelled strongly of salt and sea, but I was more concerned that it gutted the lantern flame.

I was plunged into menacing shadows.

I cried out and stumbled up the stairs in retreat, racing toward the light emanating from the solar. But I touched the rim of the opening en route and inadvertently hit a lever of some kind. The portal slid back into place with a swish. Despite my scrabbling fingers and my terror, it clicked resolutely into place.

The darkness closed around me like a shroud. My heart nigh stopped. I felt around the perimeter of the door with wild hands, but found only smooth wood and stone. This added to my frenzy and my fear. I hammered upon the door and shouted, careless that I might reveal Merlyn’s secrets in my own desire to be rescued.

But none answered. And who would even hear me? The solar was separated from the hall, Mavella was with Ada in the kitchens and too far away to hear my cries. The squires were undoubtedly in the kitchens or with the steeds. Fitz was complicit with Merlyn and Tynan was gone.

I was trapped.

I smelled my own perspiration, as before, and felt the chill of it on my flesh. I shook like a leaf in the autumn wind and my breath came in uneven gulps. I settled against the door and whimpered like a child despite my efforts to control myself.

It was blacker than black, my prospects no less dark. I was trapped in the labyrinth of tunnels of Ravensmuir, with only one hope of escape: my unpredictable and wicked spouse.

“Merlyn!” I screamed, but there was no reply.

Of course not. For all I knew, he had planned this situation to weaken my resistance to his scheme. He had done as much the day before.

There was nothing for it. I would have to seek him out.

Trembling in terror, I felt my way down the hidden stone staircase, knowing full well that I would never find my way free alone. I had to find Merlyn.

Worse, I had to rely upon Merlyn’s chivalry, without the conviction that he had any.

* * *

I do not know how long I was trapped alone in those caverns. I know only that it felt like an eternity. I could smell my own sweat and taste my own terror. I scraped my hands upon the stone and stumbled more than once upon the hem of my lavish kirtle.

I often felt the sudden space of other openings yawning to one side of me or the other as I descended and I tried to choose my course with some hope of retracing it. I inclined always downward, for I guessed that was the direction of Merlyn’s escape. It grew damper and colder with every step that I took and I began to fear that I had chosen wrongly.

I shouted for Merlyn at intervals. There was no response. I pursued him despite my fear and my growing conviction that I descended closer to hell and further from safety with every step.