Dance of Desire (41 page)

In the sunny patch beside the stable, a man groomed a white mare. His tongue stuck from his lips, a sign of intense concentration, as he ran the brush down the horse's glossy coat.

She cleared her throat. He looked up, saw her, and dropped into an awkward bow.

Careful not to rush her words, she asked, "Is my horse ready yet?"

The man hesitated. "Milady?"

"I asked one of the maidservants to come to the stable, to tell whoever was here to ready a mount for me. I need to ride into Tangston village." Rexana sighed. "Did she not relay my message?"

A frown creased the man's brow. "I . . . Nay, milady." He called into the stable, and two young boys poked their heads out. "Did one of the maids tell ye
ta
ready the lady a horse?"

They shook their heads.

Rexana prayed that the shouts had not carried up to the open solar window. She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder to see if Fane stood there watching. "Mayhap the maid told one of the other lads." She waved an impatient hand at the mare. "This one will do. Please find a saddle. I wish to leave now."

The groomer's gaze sharpened with worry. "Does 'is lordship know of your journey? 'E must be informed. 'E told us 'e must know all who enter or leave the keep." Thrusting back his shoulders, the man added, "I will not '
ave
poisonous spiders in me bed."

She ignored her belly's nervous swoop and forced a titter. "I plan to buy his lordship a special gift. A surprise. Come, now. I am in a hurry."

The man mulled her words, then fetched a saddle and bridle. As she waited, tapping her foot in the dirt, she prayed Fane's patience would last a bit longer, and that he had not looked out the solar window and seen her.

After what seemed an eternity, the mare was ready to ride.

Scratching his head, the man glanced about the bailey. "Where is
yer
armed escort, milady?"

Rexana
stepped up on the wooden mounting block and swung onto the mare's back. "They will be along soon. Tell them I am on my way to the village. They can catch up with me."

"Ye cannot —"

She snatched up the reins and nudged the mare's side. The horse trotted forward.

"Milady! Wait."

The man's voice was drowned by the rhythmic clop of the horse's hooves. A moment later, she crossed the drawbridge. As she coaxed the horse to a canter, she smiled.

She could not wait to speak with Thomas Newland.

Hands on his hips, Fane scowled down at the stable hand. "She
what}"

The man's face crumpled. Bowing his head, he turned the grooming brush in his fingers. "She told me she 'ad
ta
ride into
Tangston
,
ta
buy ye a gift."

Fane bit back a string of vile curses waiting to explode. Anger thumped in his veins.
Rexana
had deceived him. Deliberately. She had never intended to come to the solar and taste passion. As she had pleaded for a few moments to collect her thoughts, she plotted to take one of his horses and flee.

Did she try to avoid the consummation? To escape their marriage? Did she truly believe that after all his careful wooing, he would ever let her go?

Between his clenched teeth, he said, "Ready my horse."

The man bowed, then scurried into the shadowed stable. Fane flexed his fingers and shrugged away knotted tension. She might run, but he would catch her. Heart, body and soul, she belonged to him. She was
his.

The captain of the guard strode across the bailey toward him. "Milord."

"Find three of your best men. I need an escort."

"Aye, milord."

Fane glanced at the drawbridge and the winding road beyond. Disquiet fueled his fury. She traveled alone. To his knowledge, she did not carry a weapon. The roads were dangerous enough for armed knights, but a beautiful woman riding alone . . .

He cursed again. Had she no care for her own safety? Why did she take such a senseless risk?

The stable hand returned with a saddle.

"Hurry," Fane growled. "I have no time to waste."

His hand settled on the jeweled dagger tucked into his belt. He turned and stormed back to the keep, almost tripping over a dog chewing on a bone. He must take his sword. Before he gave Rexana a well-deserved tongue lashing, he might have to save her pretty neck.

Through the stand of sun-drenched alders ahead, Rexana spied the thatched roofs of Thomas's cottage and barn. She urged the lathered mare to a faster trot.

Not far, now. She could not wait to speak with Thomas. He would help her prove what a grievous error Fane had made in arresting and imprisoning her brother.

As the mare clopped into the dirt space before Thomas's home, two girls, busy milking a cow, glanced out of the barn. They dried their hands, waved, then ran to the house. Excited shrieks drifted to Rexana. "Mama! Mama."

Thomas's wife Mary stepped out, a swaddled baby in her arms. The scent of cooking food wafted from the open doorway. She smiled, waved, yet the welcoming gesture seemed hesitant. Her face, too, held a wariness that had not been evident in earlier visits.

Ignoring a twinge of unease, Rexana slid from the mare's back and smoothed the creases from her bliaut. "Hello, Mary."

The woman dropped into a deep curtsey. "Good day, Lady Linford. '
Tis
an honor to see you."

Rexana suppressed a frown. Mary's voice quavered. Why? Did she feel differently about Rexana now that she was married to the county's High Sheriff? Surely Mary did not believe that the marriage had changed Rexana.

Offering a warm smile, Rexana swept hair from her brow. " '
Tis
good to see you. Is Thomas about?"

Mary stiffened. "He is. Ye wish
ta
speak
with'im
?"

"Aye."

Mary's gaze darkened with trepidation, yet she motioned Rexana inside. As Rexana stepped over the cottage's threshold, her belly tightened. Why did Mary seem so unsettled, even frightened?

The shadowed interior, softened by candles and a crackling fire, soothed Rexana's frazzled nerves. Mary must have heard of Rudd's arrest. Such news would no doubt have caused the family uncertainty, since Rudd had been generous in helping them and ensuring they did not go hungry.

Thomas sprawled in a rickety chair near the fire, his chin drooping to his chest. His game leg stretched toward the warmth. His open-mouthed snores competed with the pot bubbling over the flames. Stepping over a sleeping mongrel, Rexana touched his weathered hand.

He blinked. When his gaze focused upon her, he sat up with a start. "Milady!" He struggled to stand.

"Do not trouble yourself. I know your leg pains you."

With a frustrated grunt, Thomas dropped back into the chair. "After many long months. One day, soon, I pray I will be able to walk like a man again."

"The healer said your wound would heal," Rexana gently reminded him, "but 'twill take a while. You must be patient."

One of the girls hurried forward with a battered wooden stool. With a nod in thanks, Rexana took it and sat down beside Thomas.

"May we fetch ye some ale, milady? A bowl of pottage?" Mary asked.

Rexana's stomach gurgled. She had not thought to pack any fare before she left Tangston, and the steam from the cauldron smelled delicious. Yet, Thomas had five children to feed — including two sons who worked long days in the fields and in the village — and his family had little enough. She could not take their food and drink. "Thank you, but nay."

Thomas looked at Mary. He flicked his hand, as though signaling her and the girls to leave. Mary lingered, as though questioning the wisdom of his decision, but Thomas gave a sharp nod. She ushered the girls outside. The cottage door banged shut behind them.

Rexana breathed in, trying to quell her racing pulse. Her stomach tightened even more. She prayed Thomas would give her the information she needed.

"You have come to speak of Rudd," he said, before she had a chance to speak.

She nodded. "Sheriff Linford has arrested him for treason. The sheriff refuses to believe he is not guilty. Please, Thomas, I need your help. You can tell him of Rudd's honorable character. You are a faithful subject of the crown, and you know Rudd is loyal too."

Thomas looked at her brooch, then stared down at the fire. His face shadowed with an odd expression.

"Thomas?"

Low, rumbled voices intruded, coming from outside the cottage. She recognized Mary, speaking to her children. Mayhap her sons had come home early, so she told them to stay out of the cottage.

Rexana closed her mind to the distraction. She leaned forward, her hands clenched into her skirt. "Please, Thomas. You must help me save Rudd."

The cottage door crashed open.

A tall, broad shouldered man blocked the light streaming in from outside. The hair on her nape prickled. Awareness and shock rushed through her, a moment before Fane spoke.

"You are foolish to come here, wife. Thomas knows Rudd is guilty. As do I."

His blood pulsing hard against his temple, Fane watched Rexana rise to her feet. As her body straightened, her bliaut smoothed over her hips, the simple yellow gown provocative in the smoky shadows.