Elizabeth Elliott (44 page)

Guy ignored the frantic motions she made behind her back toward the laces. Instead he draped his arms around her waist and clasped his hands together in front of her, his hold on her casually possessive. “You have no need to explain anything we do to anyone, Claudia.”

The two men stared across the tent at each other, the air charged with a silent challenge. At last Dante unclenched his hands and clasped them behind his back. “He is right, Claudia. What the two of you do together is no longer my business.”

“What did you say?” Claudia sounded incredulous.

Even Guy doubted what he heard. Had he happened upon Dante’s price at last?

“I thought to speak with my sister first,” Dante went on, as if he hadn’t heard her, “but as you are both here I may as well save myself the distasteful task of saying this twice.” His gaze returned to Guy. “You were right to call me a fool. As you said, all that I wish is within my grasp. I am ready to accept your offer.”

“What are your terms?” Guy asked, without hesitation.

“Your word that I can leave here,” Dante said, “that you will interfere in my life no more than you want my interference in your own.”

Guy eyed him warily. “And the rest?”

“I have no other demands at the moment. ’Tis enough to know that you are in my debt.” A cynical smile touched Dante’s lips. “Make no mistake, Montague. The day will come when I will collect that debt.”

Guy knew exactly what that debt would entail. Yet helping Dante regain his birthright would also mean helping him leave England, hopefully for good. Guy thought it an excellent bargain. Claudia did not seem inclined to agree.

“You would sell me?” she asked Dante, her voice a bare whisper. “Is that all I am to you, goods to be bartered for favors?”

A look of pain flashed through Dante’s eyes, then disappeared just as quickly. His voice turned brisk and efficient. “A long time ago I promised you a home and security, a place where you would always be safe. Consider that promise fulfilled, Claudia.”

She turned to look up at Guy, her own pain reflected in her eyes, but he gave her a reassuring smile. He held everything he had ever wanted within his arms, within his power to possess. His gaze didn’t waver from her as he sealed his bargain with Dante. “Agreed.”

19

T
hat afternoon, Guy and Dante mounted their horses for the ride to Kelso Abbey. There they would sign the marriage contracts and make arrangements for the ceremony that would take place the next day. Guy lifted Claudia’s hand for a brief kiss. “You are certain you would rather remain here?”

Claudia nodded, still stung by the selfish way Dante had bartered her. She wanted no more of her brother’s company. “My signature is not required on the contracts, and the journey sounds tiring. I would rather stay here and rest.”

“ ’Tis another day as hot as the last. You will be overcome by the heat if you remain in my tent all afternoon.” Guy nodded toward Kenric and Fitz Alan, who stood a few paces behind her. “My brothers will take you to the river. There is a shallow bend about a quarter mile upstream where you can rest in the shade along the banks, or go a-wading if you wish. The water is cool and refreshing.”

The thought of spending the afternoon with Guy’s brothers was only slightly more appealing than spending the afternoon with her own. She didn’t trust any of them. The promise of an escape from the unbearable heat swayed her decision. “Very well.”

“I will meet you there in a few hours,” he said, his concern for her quiet mood plain to see. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze as she stepped away from his horse, then he turned in the saddle and urged his horse forward.

Dante followed Guy without a word to Claudia. She decided that it would be a relief to see him leave tomorrow, for his presence only reminded her of the kind, considerate
brother she once knew. This Dante was a stranger who cared only for what he could gain by bargaining her life away. He looked well pleased with himself when Guy released his knights, Oliver and Armand, and allowed them to pack for their journey. They intended to leave at dawn, before the ceremony took place. Claudia tried to convince herself that she was glad. She did not want her brother to cast his dark shadow over her wedding day.

Kenric gave orders to have their own mounts made ready as she watched Guy and Dante ride away. Fitz Alan led a palfrey forward a few moments later.

“Lady Claudia?” Kenric prompted. When she glanced at him, he nodded toward the palfrey. “I will help you mount, if you wish.”

With her left arm in a sling, she had little choice. Kenric lifted her by the waist as if she weighed no more than a feather, and even helped rearrange her skirts when she swung her leg over the saddle to ride astride. Modesty be hanged. She had no wish to fall off the beast with her shoulder so far from healed.

Once they were all mounted, Kenric set a plodding pace, probably due to her injury as well. There was no pressing need to reach their destination, and Claudia tried to enjoy the cool shade of the woods they passed through. Fitz Alan tried to keep up a one-sided conversation about the unusually hot weather, then gave up when his remarks met with silence.

The trail forked, and Kenric took the path that led upriver. When they finally reached the bend, Claudia had to admit that the place looked inviting. A dark blue ribbon of water ran swift and choppy along the opposite shore, but closest to them the river flowed over a wide, shallow sandbar where the current gentled and sunlight sparkled on the clear waters. Kenric and Fitz Alan hobbled their horses while Claudia made her way to the river’s edge.

A large tree had lost its tenuous hold on the eroded riverbank and tumbled onto the submerged sandbar, so long ago that its bark was washed away and the wood weathered to
smooth silver. She kicked off her slippers and carefully gathered her skirts with one hand, then waded up to her ankles to find a seat on the log. The cool water felt delicious.

“This sun will turn your fair skin bright pink,” Fitz Alan warned, as he took a seat on part of the log that remained on shore. He started to pull off his boots.

Claudia wriggled her toes into the sand and watched a school of minnows dart away. With all the reasons she had to dislike and distrust Guy’s brothers, there was a sense of strength and protectiveness about them that set her at ease. She did not want to be at ease with them. “This pale English sun is no threat to my complexion.”

Fitz Alan shrugged, then waded further into the river until the sheath that held his sword started to drag in the water. He unbuckled his sword belt and placed the weapon on top of the tree trunk, then waded to where the sandbar started to fall away into the dark blue depths of the river. Claudia glanced back at the riverbank where Kenric still stood, his shoulder propped against the trunk of another large tree that leaned toward the river. She wondered if he had any worry that his weight would make the tree topple into the water. His expression revealed nothing but boredom. Aye, this would be a very pleasant place but for his presence and Fitz Alan’s.

She looked again at Fitz Alan. He was bent over with his hands in the water as if to wash them, but he looked stuck in the awkward position and did not move so much as a muscle. Curiosity finally loosened her tongue. “What are you doing?”

“Fishing,” he whispered.

Kenric gave a snort of laughter. “Ian Duncan is the only man I know who can catch fish that way.”

“What way?” Claudia asked.

“With his hands,” Kenric answered. “Fitz Alan thinks his face irresistible, even to fish. See how he smiles down at them? He thinks to seduce a fat trout into his arms.”

Claudia giggled. Even Fitz Alan’s smile grew broader. “Abbot Gregory told me this river is filled with fat trout, and I
have practiced this technique several times since Ian showed it to us.”

Kenric made another sound that Claudia assumed had something to do with humor. “Have you ever caught anything?”

“Nay, but I—” Fitz Alan’s eyes moved in erratic directions to follow the progress of something only he could see.

Claudia stood up and craned her neck toward Fitz Alan, careful to hold her skirts above water. “Is it a fish?”

Fitz Alan didn’t answer. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Kenric also looked interested in this development. A flurry of motion turned her attention back to Fitz Alan. His hands chased beneath the water to capture the unseen fish. There was a great splash as Fitz Alan’s hands flew upward, then a shimmering arc of water as he threw the fish toward shore. Startled, Kenric started to back away, then stood rooted in place when the fish landed at his feet. His shoulders relaxed visibly, then he bent down to pick up Fitz Alan’s trout. It was nothing but a long, flat river rock. He gave Fitz Alan a disgusted look and tossed the rock back into the water. Fitz Alan doubled over with laughter.

“Indulge your humor,” Kenric drawled. “ ’Tis the only thing you are like to catch, other than leeches between your toes.”

“Leeches?” Claudia sat down abruptly and drew her feet out of the water. She inspected each toe thoroughly, her one-armed balance on the log precarious at best.

“ ’Tis doubtful there are any leeches where you sit,” Kenric assured her. “The creatures tend to—”

He fell silent, and then they all heard the unmistakable whirring sound of an arrow in flight, punctuated by a loud
twang
when it struck the tree just inches from Kenric’s head. There was a loud splash from Fitz Alan’s direction just as Kenric lunged forward. He grabbed Claudia by the waist and kept going, amazingly sure-footed considering his size and Claudia’s added weight as he raced along the fallen log. She heard the sounds of more arrows just as they reached the end
of the log, and Kenric leaped into the river, taking her with him.

A stab of pain shot through her shoulder and took her breath away, even as the water closed over her head. She broke the surface again, sputtering and shaken, but Kenric’s steel grip around her waist guided her closer to the fallen log where Fitz Alan already waited.

Water lapped at Kenric and Fitz Alan’s shoulders, but the submerged branches of the tree kept the trunk above the waterline even in this deeper part of river. Claudia pointed her toes downward as far as they could stretch to find the riverbed, and her hand grasped at a branch made slippery by algae. The current was much swifter here, and she found herself thankful that Kenric kept a firm grip around her waist. They ducked beneath the meager shelter of a large forked branch that protruded upward from the trunk. Kenric and Fitz Alan peered cautiously from their hiding place to search the riverbanks.

“There,” Fitz Alan said, as a score of men emerged from the forest.

All the soldiers wore muted greens and browns to blend with the woods around them. Half carried deadly longbows, while the others held swords. Claudia clapped her hand to her cheek when she saw who led them. “ ’Tis my uncle, Baron Lonsdale!”

Kenric and Fitz Alan exchanged a silent glance, then their gazes scanned the riverbanks all around them, searching for a means to escape. Their swords were useless against the longbows. They would be dead before they came within a sword’s length of any Lonsdale soldier.

“If he had more men, there would be no reason to hide them,” Kenric mused. “There must be more somewhere nearby with the horses, but I doubt it is a large force. I do not think he would risk bringing any more than a score or so of soldiers this close to our camp.”

“Aye, but we rode too far upstream,” Fitz Alan said.
“Even the watch will not hear our signal through these woods.”

Kenric’s gaze followed Fitz Alan’s toward the river. His mouth became a grim line. “Do not consider it, Fitz Alan. Even if she can swim, she has skirts and a lame shoulder to contend with.”

“We could cut the skirts away,” Fitz Alan suggested.

Kenric shook his head. “We would be lucky to make it ourselves, and we are healthy. For this you will need your sword.”

Fitz Alan uttered a curse as he looked toward the middle of the fallen log, where his weapon still lay. He began to work his way toward his sword, careful to keep his head below the log, where Lonsdale’s soldiers could not see him.

“What was your plan if I could swim?” Claudia asked.

Kenric kept his attention focused on Fitz Alan, sounding distracted as he answered. “We could make our way to the deepest part of the river where the water runs swiftest, then dive beneath the surface and swim underwater as far as we could, hopefully around that next bend. The terrain that Lonsdale’s soldiers would be forced to follow is rough and clogged with brush. We would have a good head start on them by the time we reached the path further downstream that leads to our encampment.”

His grip on her waist tightened and her head jerked in Fitz Alan’s direction. Another volley of arrows filled the air as Fitz Alan reached up to snatch his sword. With the weapon safely retrieved, he flattened himself against the trunk and began to ease himself into deeper water again. Lonsdale made a gesture, and two archers ran along the bank to position themselves where they would have a better shot at Fitz Alan.