Darkest Knight (15 page)

Her tracks had taken her in a circle as she tried to avoid some of the more treacherous areas. She was being careful and missed some of the less-used paths that would have taken her in a more direct route through the moors. Did she realize she was not moving forward but in circles?

’Twas the middle of the third day when he saw something ahead. Sunlight turned the mud to gold. John thought his heart would cease beating.

“Anna!”

He heard nothing and tried again. “I’m coming, love. Hold fast.”

As he strained to listen, he swore he heard her voice, hoarse and feeble, carried on the wind to him.

“I’m drowning.”

John jumped from the horse as the final bit of stone around his heart crumbled to dust. She was trapped in a bog up to her breasts.

“I don’t want to die.”

“You will not die. I will not allow you to leave me.” John uncoiled the rope he had brought with him. “You must not thrash about. Take the rope and wrap it around your waist tightly.”

Her eyes were wild, her face pale. John would never forgive himself if he lost her.

“I’m so tired. I don’t think I can do it.”

“You must.”

Her hands shook as she took the rope and pulled it into the muck.

“I know ’tis hard, but do not struggle.” John took the other end and tied it to the saddle. He came back, kneeling at the edge.

“Try to lie back and let your body float upward.”

“The mud is too thick. It will not work.”

He looked into her eyes, willing her to see how much he cared.

“Slow your breathing. Look at me, Anna. Nowhere else. Look to me.” Once he saw she had calmed a bit, he said, “Do you know how to swim?”

“Of course. I grew up in Florida, on the beach.”

“Good. You must think of the bog as the ocean. Lie back and let it lift you up. It will take time, but it will work.”

He did not voice his worry. That he could not free her. He could not risk going back for help. There wasn’t enough time. If he left her much longer, the bog would take her. ’Twas an awful way to die.

The waiting was agony. John told her of his time in the wood. Anything to pass the time. Told her how he became the outlaw.

“…so when Robin died, I became the bandit of the wood. He had seen to it his reputation spread across the realm, and people were afraid to enter the wood.”

“All so he could provide a home for people?”

“That is why we took nobles for ransom and their gold. They have plenty to spare. People are hungry. They have been burned out of their villages, and they come to the woods seeking shelter.”

“Now that the king knows, will you have to pay for the crimes of being the bandit too?”
 

“Most likely. We shall worry about it when the time comes. My brothers are wealthy, and so are James and William. Together they are formidable. I did not want to accept their aid, but it appears I have no choice.”
 

He could see her body lifting. He would not wait any longer.

“I want you to hold on to the rope. Do not struggle.”

“I have faith in you.”
 

And with that simple declaration, all the reasons why he could not care for her drifted away like dust on the wind. He would love her for as long as he had left. And trust his brothers to protect her if the time came and he was sentenced to death.

He slowly urged the horse forward. The rope tightened and he heard the sounds of the bog trying to hold on to Anna. He urged the horse forward, and with a great sucking sound she was free.
 

John removed the rope from her. “Do not ever scare me like that again.”

He crushed her to him, heedless of the mud and smell. Lowered his lips to hers. Her lips were soft as the softest silk. Warm. The rest of her was cold. She made a sound in the back of her throat. Her arms came around his neck. Her lips parted and he lost himself in the taste of her. The feel of her against him. When they broke apart, she was breathing heavily, her voice shaking.

 
“I’m warm now.”

He threw back his head and laughed. Gave thanks he’d found her in time.

“Let’s go home.”

John led her to a nearby stream, turning his back while she removed the garments.

“I think I’m going to be brown forever.”

“In time the color will fade from your skin. There is a woman at the castle who has herbs you can add to the bath to remove the coloring.”

He heard splashing. John had to strain to hear the words.

“I’m getting dressed. Don’t look.”

He heard a rustling noise and kept his eyes averted, though he was most curious.
 

As she fell asleep that night, Anna cried and moaned in her sleep. John stroked her hair, comforting her as he would a spooked horse.

He was unused to spending so much time with a woman. So many years he’d visited a wench to satisfy his needs but never wanted to have speech with them. Never cared what they thought. With Anna, he wanted to know every thought she had.

The next morning, she was quiet, sitting stiffly in the saddle in front of him. The entire day she said less than a handful of words.

Would she not speak the entire way back to Blackmoor? Most women would have babbled incessantly. John never had to work to get a woman to talk. Anna said not a word.

On the third day of travel, John decided he’d had enough of her silence. They sat by the fire.

“I know you do not care for wine, but you must not take a chill after being in the bog for so long.”

She wrinkled her nose but drank it anyway. They ate a simple meal. She had two more cups of wine and still she did not speak.

Anna dropped the cup to the ground. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Ladies’ room?”

She made a face at him. “You know.”

He was perplexed for a moment then laughed. Seeing the displeasure on her face, he shut his mouth with a snap. He held out his hands in front of him.

“I meant no offense.”

John heard her stomping through the brush. If the king’s men had been near, they would have heard her. She swayed a bit as she came to a stop in front of him. Anna leaned down and poked him in the chest.

“I heard what you said to Henry.” She wobbled so he pulled her down beside him, afraid she would fall over. She slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me. You said you didn’t care if I stayed or went back to my own time. That you are tired of me being your responsibility.” She belched. “You don’t want me here. So why are you taking me back? I would’ve made it to London eventually.”

“You would? Walking in circles? Would that be before or after you drowned in the bog?”

“Don’t be mean to me. I don’t know why I even care. Someone as sexy and good-looking as you would never look twice at an ugly duckling like me. It was silly for me to hope you might like me for who I am, not what I look like.”

He was stunned. She cared for him? “I should not have said what I did to my brother. I was an arse.” He pulled her onto his lap. “It was fear. The king’s men will come, I worry what will happen to you.” He stroked her hair. “You rescued me from the tower. The moment I saw you, I thought you were a fairy come to take me away. Anna. I do want you here. I would give all I possess to have someone such as you.”

He kissed her hair, mumbling words of love.

“You are kind and thoughtful. Your skin like fine ivory. The many colors in your hair remind me of the countryside. How can you not see how beautiful you are?”

She sniffed. “You don’t mean it. You’re only saying it because you feel like a big jerk.”

Jerk. Charlotte called his brother such a word. He knew ’twas not flattering.

“I have been too wrapped up in my own cares. I do know what it’s like to be separated from those you love.”

He held up a hand. “I know mine was by choice and yours is not. I do have some understanding of what you feel.”

“You’re only saying these things because you want me to come back without making a fuss. But don’t you see? After what Charlotte told me, I have to believe there is a small chance I can go back. And I must try. If I can’t get back then at least I will know I have done everything in my power to try. But if I don’t try…”

She looked up at him her green eyes full of tears. “I cannot live with myself if I don’t try.”

“You have my word. Once we get back, I’ll send word to my brothers letting them know where we are going, I will take you back to the tower.”

She started to protest, and John said, “I do not delay on purpose. But we must have a fresh horse and pack provisions. My brothers needs know so if anything happens to me, they will know to come for you.”

“Oh. That’s very kind. I won’t forget all you’ve done for me.”

Seeing the pain in her eyes, her need to go home, John made a choice. He would not tell her he was in love with her. He would think of her instead of himself. And he would let her go. Though he would remember her all of his days.

As they rode through the gates of Blackmoor, John saw a commotion in the courtyard.

“’Tis time you are back.”

He dismounted and lifted Anna off the horse. John turned to his eldest brother.

“’Tis good to see you, Edward.” Was all he got out before Edward’s fist met his face.

John struck back. As he and his brother exchanged blows, he heard Robert’s voice.

“’Tis too early to brawl.” Robert yawned.
 

Men watched, calling out helpful suggestions and insults.

“This is silly.”

“Aye, lady. Men will be boys no matter how old they are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

Edward spat blood onto the ground. “Seems I am arrived just in time. The roof looks likely to fall on your heads.”

“I am sorry I did not tell you I was alive.”

Edward clapped him on the shoulder. “I know you thought you were keeping all of us safe. I have missed you, John.”

“And I you.” John cleared his throat, willing the feelings to go away.

“What news do you bring?”

Edward looked askance at Anna, who was sitting on the other side of him.
 

“Say what you will. I have told her the tale.”

Edward raised his brows. “All you know about him and still you enjoy his company, lady?”

Anna leaned forward across John and looked at Edward, a saucy grin on her face.

“All of you Thorntons are so handsome I find I quite lose my head whenever I’m around you.”

Edward grinned. “Careful, this one here may actually lose his.”

Anna looked horrified for a moment until she realized they were teasing. If you couldn’t make fun of something, what was the point of living?

“So what are you going to do to help him?”

“I quite like her.”

“I’m growing old, Edward.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “’Tis not welcome news. The king is only seventeen. Denby has his ear and his wife is young. Denby parades her in front of the king hoping he will make her his mistress.”

“What about Letitia?”

“Have you not heard? Letitia died three years ago from fever. Denby married again a month later.”

“Then why does he come for me? Why does he care?”