Ginny Hartman (7 page)

“I'm on official business from the High King. He has sent me to fetch Princess Rosalind and escort her to Brantonwall.”

“Aye. I will send for Brigit, her chambermaid, to inform her of your arrival.”

“Very well,” Terric muttered, but just as he turned a short, round lady came waltzing up to plant herself firmly between him and the steward.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked, her eyes narrowing at Terric in disapproval.

“I'm here to fetch Princess Rosalind and escort her to Brantonwall Castle,” Terric repeated irritably, his patience wearing thin. The lack of sleep was making him grumpy.

“Oh, I hardly think so, sir. Her parents gave her permission to remain here, at Hefordshire while her father attended the quarterly council meeting.”

“But now,” he explained impatiently, “they wish her to travel to Brantonwall to be with them.”

“Then why did they send you to do the job?” she asked, jabbing one plump finger into his chest.

Terric hardly had the patience to make his excuses to the meddlesome chambermaid, wanting only to retrieve the princess and be on his way. Besides, how was he supposed to logically explain to her why King Cedric had sent his Lead Defender to fetch her? It still didn't completely make sense to him. Unable and unwilling to come up with an explanation, he retrieved the missive penned by King Cedric from inside his tunic and thrust it towards her. “I'm on official business from the king. Kindly step aside and let me be about my business.”

As soon as the lady took the note, Terric began walking towards the hall, determined to collect Princess Rosalind and be on his way. The sooner he left Herfordshire Castle, the sooner he'd be back where he belonged—defending King Cedric.

“What are you doing?” the chambermaid squealed behind him, rushing forward to catch up to him as quickly as her stodgy legs would allow.

Brushing her aside, Terric kept walking. “If you disagree with my assignment from the High King, you'll have to take it up with him. I am sent to collect Princess Rosalind and escort her back to Brantonwall Castle, and that's what I intend to do.”

He heard the lady suck in a shocked breath, but he didn't turn back to see if she was following him. Instead, he continued straight for the spiral staircase that he knew would take him towards the bedchambers.

***

Rosalind's knees ached as she knelt on the rough stone floor next to the fireplace, still in her white linen nightgown. She had risen early to collect the array of drying herbs she had placed on the hearth the night before, anxious to get them out of sight before Brigit arrived to help her dress for the day. Since her parents had left to Brantonwall Castle, she had made it a habit of sneaking in various herbs from the garden to dry overnight on her hearth. Both Brigit and her mother would be irate if they caught wind of it.

She carefully picked up sprigs of lavender and rosemary, not fully dry, and placed them gently inside of a wooden box. She jumped at the sound of a door slamming down the hall and almost dropped her box. As her own door began to open, the heavy wood scraping against the stone floor beneath, golden wisps whirled around her head, causing her to feel faint. Perhaps she had spent too much time before the heat of the fire. Ignoring the strange sensation, she glanced down briefly at the remainder of herbs she had yet to collect. She knew she'd never get them hidden in time. Instead, she hastily set the box down on the hearth and rose. Grabbing the hem of her nightgown, she ran on her toes towards the large tapestry hanging on the wall and, wasting no time, she flung the heavy wall-hanging back and slid inside the small alcove hidden behind the tapestry, her heart racing furiously.

Many rooms in the castle were designed with the unique hideaways, elaborate tapestries effectively covering them from view. They had been designed as hiding places of sorts in the event of an attack on the castle. In the entire ten and eight years that she had been alive, she had only ever used them while playing silly games of hide-and-seek with her younger brother Colin.

Rosalind pushed herself face first into the far corner of the alcove. Closing her eyes, she placed both of her hands on her heart, willing it to be calm as she stilled her breathing and waited for Brigit to see that she wasn't there and leave. Mayhap she would think she was using the garderobe and would fail to see the mess she left behind on the hearth. She was in no mood to receive a lecture from the lady this day. But it seemed as if she was in no luck as she felt a breeze, caused by the lifting of the tapestry, whirl around her ankles, swishing her dress between her legs. Rosalind closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable screaming to begin.

***

Terric came to the last door in the hall and pushed the door open slowly, fully expecting it to be Rosalind's room after he hadn't found her in any of the other chambers he'd searched. A flurry of white caught his eye as he watched the imp lift one corner of a tapestry hanging on the wall and disappear behind its heavy cloth. So the girl was trying to hide was she? He almost chuckled out loud but settled on smiling instead, it would give him time to look around her chambers a bit before surprising her with his presence.

He began looking around the room curiously, surprisingly intrigued by being in her most private of chambers. He felt almost sinful as he looked around, evidence of the girl laced throughout the entire room. Red velvet curtains hung from her canopy bed, the covers disheveled from recent use. He walked over to the bed and ran his hand gently over the linen sheets, still warm from her body, and shuddered involuntarily. He removed his hand quickly, trying to reign in his wayward thoughts and walked towards the fireplace. Scattered on the hearth were several small bundles of herbs, a wooden box sitting next to the forgotten plants. He picked up a sprig of sage and twisted the small stem between his thumb and forefinger before placing it back in its spot and sauntering over to the wall that held the tapestry.

He took great effort to be as quiet as he could, lifting the tapestry slowly to reveal the hidden alcove that housed the princess. Inching along the wall he contemplated calling out to her, demanding that she reveal herself at once and ready her things for the journey ahead, but something compelled him to continue on his current course.

Reaching the alcove, he deftly hoisted himself up inside. The girl was huddled in the corner, leaving just enough room for his body to fit behind her. He could feel the warmth emanating off of her body, clad in the simple white nightgown that made her look younger than her years. But lest he be fooled, it clung proactively to her subtle curves, curves he remembered all too well from the night she had danced the Saylatee.

Temptation became too much to bear as he stood breathing in her soft scent. He reached forth one hand and trailed his fingers slowly, gently down the exposed skin of her arm and smiled victoriously as goose pimples appeared on her flesh.

Suddenly she stiffened, a delayed response, and exclaimed, “Brigit!”

His voice was husky as he answered, “I hate to disappoint you my dear, but I'm most definitely not your chambermaid.”

Rosalind turned around abruptly, the small space not allowing her much room to do so. Terric reached out and steadied her, preventing her from falling out of their hiding place, his fingers grasping onto her soft waist as she tilted her chin to look up at him. “You!” she exclaimed.

Terric smiled. “Tis I,” he answered with humor. He loved the way her wide eyes searched his face as if she were trying to convince herself that it truly was him. Regrettably, he couldn't decipher if she was pleased to see him or not.

“What are you doing here? Tis highly improper for you to be in my chambers.”

Her question forced him painfully back into reality. “I'm here to fetch you and assist you back to your parents.”

Before he could further explain, she cut him off, “That can't be true. My parents gave me express permission to stay here, at Herfordshire Castle until they returned from the council meeting.”

“That may be so but,” he paused to take a long, steadying breath before lying to her, “they have been sent to Peltis on a royal visit and will be away longer than they originally intended. They insist you be delivered to them at once.”

“Well, what if I refuse to go?” she asked petulantly.

“I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, forcing you to ride strung over my lap the entire way so I can keep you in your place.”

“You wouldn't dare!” she cried.

“Truthfully, I'd rather not have to go that route, but I'm not above doing so if it means that I will fulfill King Cedric's wish.”

She cocked her head to one side, “What does my uncle have to do with this? I thought you said that it was my parents wish that I reunite with them.”

Suddenly the alcove felt too small and too warm. The girl was much too shrewd. “Tis their wish. Now I must insist that you ready yourself to go. We leave at once.”

Rosalind surprised him by placing both of her hands on his chest and shoving him into the wall. He wanted to laugh at her boldness, but didn't think it wise. “Why,” she said, leaning in close to his face, “would they send you? Did they truly believe that I'd make such a fuss as to warrant the High King's Lead Defender as an escort?”

This was the part Terric hated having to explain the most, for it didn't make sense. Instead, he opted to forgo any sort of explanation in favor of distraction. He reached one hand up to her hair and twisted a lock around his palm and watched as the silky strands wound across his hand then slithered down his arm. He was very aware of her violet eyes searching his face, but he chose not to look into them as he spoke. “We leave in a quarter of an hour. Pack light and be quick. Your chambermaid and the steward have been made aware of the situation, so there's nothing left for you to do but comply.”

 Sliding his hand down the length of her hair, he reached up and tucked the lock behind her ear, purposefully caressing the soft skin behind her earlobe and down her throat as he did so. Then without another word, he lifted the tapestry and hopped down to the ground below and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned Rosalind gaping after him.

Chapter 8

No Turning Back

Terric stalked to the stables, not entirely sure he could stand several days in the girl’s company without caving into temptation. Maybe King Cedric had been wrong in trusting him with this particular task. He shook the thought violently from his mind, refusing to allow himself to give into weakness. As soon as he reached the stables, he retrieved his horse and led him back to the entrance of the castle to wait for Princess Rosalind.

His eyebrows rose in surprise when the lady in question walked into the courtyard, taking even less time than he had allotted her. She had changed from her nightgown and was now dressed in a simple light blue dress, her long hair plaited and hanging over one shoulder. Clutched in her hands was a small satchel, presumably her belongings.

Terric stepped forward, one arm reaching for her bag. “Allow me to load this onto my horse then we can be on our way.”

“Just you wait a moment.” An overwrought voice followed a rather large trunk carried by two young boys out into the courtyard.

Terric looked from the trunk back to Rosalind before asking, “Didn't I instruct you to pack light?”

Rosalind smiled at him, “Aye, and I did. That,” she said, indicating the trunk, “is all hers.”

Brigit stalked out from behind the trunk and harrumphed. “Nonsense child, you know as well as I that most of the clothing in this trunk is for you. I refuse to allow you to travel to Peltis with only one change of clothing. What would your mother think?”

At the mention of her mother, Terric stepped towards Brigit and said, “We are not taking that trunk.”

“We most certainly are. There will be plenty of room for it in the wagon.”

Terric looked around. “What wagon would that be?” Brigit's face turned red, and Terric could have sworn he heard Rosalind stifle a giggle.

“The one you will retrieve from the stables,” Brigit snapped back.

“I regret to tell you that Stephen here will be our only mode of transportation.” He walked over to where his destrier was standing and patted him on the neck.

Brigit's eyes bulged in her head. “Surely you jest. How will we all fit?”

Terric turned and walked calmly towards Rosalind, who was watching the interchange with amusement. Looking directly at her, he spoke, “If we wish to make good time, we will need to travel without a wagon. You and I will fit on Stephen without a problem. That is unless...” He let the sentence trail off, watching as her violet eyes widened in excitement.

“Are you implying we leave Brigit behind? It isn't proper, but...”

Leaning close to her face so only she could hear, he whispered lowly, “You would like that wouldn't you?”

After several seconds of silence, she replied honestly, “Aye.”

Terric straightened, watching the merriment dancing in her eyes. He was loathe to refuse her anything that brought her joy, knowing that joy would turn to sorrow soon enough when she learned the real reason he had been sent to fetch her. He knew it would be unwise on so many levels to travel with the princess unchaperoned, but he reasoned with himself that it would be quicker. Besides, he rationalized, King Cedric hadn't told him exactly how to do his job, just that he was to bring the princess to Peltis and that's what he was doing. His mind made up, he turned to Brigit. “You will stay behind.”

Brigit sucked in several shocked breathes before stuttering, “I—I have never...this is utterly unacceptable.”

Terric ignored her indigent stammering, reaching for Rosalind's bag and storing it in the side saddle, before hefting her up into the saddle, then pulling himself up to sit behind her. Grabbing the reins, he urged the horse into a trot, pausing only long enough to turn his head towards the furious chambermaid and holler, “Take it up with King Cedric,” behind him, as he kicked Stephen in the flank and galloped off.

***

Rosalind couldn't contain the giggle that started in her stomach and rose forth to burst from her mouth. She had never seen Brigit so angry, so purple-faced before and defying her so openly felt so liberating. Well mayhap it hadn't been her that had directly defied Brigit, but still, it felt good nonetheless.