The Bride Gift (20 page)

Read The Bride Gift Online

Authors: Sarah Hegger

BOOK: The Bride Gift
3.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“By all means.” He stepped back and opened his arms to let her pass. Helena kept her eyes on him as she slid along the wall and away from him.

“Run away, sweet Nell,” he called after her. “But I will have you.”

“Never.” Helena turned to stare him down. “I have Guy now and you cannot touch me.”

“You seem rather sure of that,” he sneered with a soft laugh. “Are you so certain?”

“Guy is my husband,” she insisted.

“For all the good it will do you, sweeting.” Ranulf sauntered away.

“Helena?” Guy materialized out of the gloom of the passageway. His eyes flickered between her and Ranulf’s retreating figure.

“I want him gone,” Helena whispered unsteadily.

“Aye.”

“Speak with the king.” Helena grabbed the front of his tunic. “The king listens to you. Make him understand about Ranulf. Tell him about Bess.”

“Nay.” Guy’s expression grew grave as he captured her hand in his. “I cannot, Helena.”

“But why?” All the anger she had held in check with Ranulf came bursting out in those two words. “It is intolerable that I should have my sister’s murderer in my own home. Have you forgotten about Geoffrey? Or Peter and Flora?”

“I have forgotten nothing.”

“Then why?” Her fingers closed around his tunic. “Why will you not force him to leave?”
I must reach him and make him understand
. Her frustration grew at his implacable expression. She wanted to scream; his long silence was nearly unbearable. “You could best him, I know that you could. If you were to challenge Ranulf and kill him—”

“Helena, I can do nothing, now.”

“Then I shall see it done myself.” She needed to scrub her skin where Ranulf had touched her.

Guy grabbed her shoulders and jerked her back before him. His eyes bore into hers. “You will not,” he snarled as his hands tightened.

“There are ways.” She tried to break his hold, but he gripped her harder. “I could poison him, I could—”

“This is madness.” He shook her, his jaw working furiously as he glared down at her.

“He beat my sister!” Tears of anguish pricked her eyes. She blinked them away. She couldn’t show weakness now. “He beat her until she lost the will to live. It is my right to make him pay.”

“He will pay.” Guy’s tone gentled, the fevered intensity in his eyes unabated.

“But when?” Helena demanded. “He has brutalized and killed Flora, Peter is as a wraith and, even now, Geoffrey lies wounded from Ranulf’s arrow in his shoulder.” Her breath rasped through her chest as the words tumbled past her lips. “When will he pay, Guy? When?”

“I dare not act now.” His jaw tensed as he loosed his hands from her shoulders.

“You mean you will not.” She drew back from him. He would not aid her. She could see it on his face. She wanted to beat his hard, immoveable chest with her fists. She wanted to rage at him.

“You know why.” His expression was closed and cold. “Trust me.” He forced the words past the tightness in his jaw.

Helena gave a mirthless bark of laughter. “Trust? You ask me to trust you and yet, Ranulf is here. He is in my keep. His hands are wet with the blood of my people and he eats my food and rests beneath my roof. Trust?” Her voice broke on the word. “There is not enough trust in me to abide that.”

“I will have your oath that you will do nothing.”

“I cannot give you my word.”

Guy stood immobile. He opened his mouth as if he would speak and then shut it again.

Bitter tears flooded her eyes and she dashed them away.

Something dark and dangerous flashed over his expression. “Your oath,” he ground out.

“I cannot.”

He lunged for her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Your oath,” he repeated harshly. “Or I will see you removed from the keep.”

Helena shook her head, unable to swear as he demanded.

He dropped his hands from her. “So be it.” He strode away. The echoes of his anger hung in the air behind him.

Her chest hurt so keenly, she could barely draw breath from the pain.

“He does not understand.”

Tears blurred her visions as she turned to see Colin standing at the entrance to the kitchen. She couldn’t face him now and turned her back.

“Stay, Nell,” he entreated. “Please?”

“I have naught to say to you,” she said unsteadily. She wouldn’t let Colin see the hurt she was certain had writ clear over her face.

“I know,” Colin continued. “I struck you and that was unforgivable.” He ventured closer. “Give me this chance to make it right.”

Helena uttered a bitter laugh. Men and trust. Always asking for another chance to prove themselves worthy. They demanded it from women, only to betray them. Bess had trusted Ranulf. She had trusted Colin and he had stuck her. Now, Guy asked for her trust and Colin another chance. Nay, she could not give either.

“Why should I do that, Colin?” Helena faced him.

“Because I understand about Bess.” His eyes grew pained. “I loved her too, Nell. She was not my sister by blood, but I loved her no less than you did.”

“Do
not
talk to me of Bess.” Helena could not bear her sister’s name on Colin’s lips. Bess, with her gentle soul, would have been horrified by what Colin had done.

He compressed his lips and dropped his gaze. “I loved her, Nell.” His words held a tremble. “I loved her and I betrayed her memory when I struck you. I would make that right.”

“How will you make it right, Colin?” Helena demanded. “Will you take back your blow?”

“I cannot.” He hung his head. “I can merely beg your forgiveness. I failed you and I failed Bess. I will do as I must.”

“Oh, Colin.” Her laughter was a bitter taste in her mouth. “Can you go back and stop her from falling in love with Ranulf? You could not stay your own hand and you, for certes, can no longer stay Ranulf’s. How will you make it right? There is nothing you can do.” She could bear it no more. Helena whirled on her heel.

“I could kill Ranulf.” Colin spoke so softly she barely heard him.

Helena stopped in her tracks and turned back to her cousin. “What did you say?”

Colin squared his shoulders and his eyes met hers. The line of his jaw had firmed with resolve. “You heard me.” His eyes were bright and keen. “I will kill Ranulf. I will do it for Bess. I will do it for you.”

She had no reason to believe Colin spoke true. Yet, he offered her the one thing stronger than her anger. Vengeance. Sweet, deserved vengeance.

“You do not believe me.” He grimaced. “What reason have I given you to trust me? None,” he murmured softly. “I have given you no reason to trust me, but think on it, Nell. Think on it for Bess.”

“How would you kill Ranulf?” Helena had heard enough of Colin’s big schemes before. They always came to naught.

“I have a plan.” Colin stepped closer and spoke low. “The king watches Guy, but he barely sees me. If you cannot think I would kill Ranulf, you who know me best, then nobody else will so much as suspect me.”

There was enough truth in what Colin said to keep her listening. She was torn. Part of her wanted to turn and leave, but the other part, the one still smarting from her tussle with Guy, needed to hear him out. “What is your plan?”

“I do not want to say here,” Colin whispered. “Meet me in the morning after Matins. We can take a walk outside the keep and I will tell you everything.”

“You do not have a plan?” She was done with him.

“And if I do? All you need do is spend an hour of your time in my company to find out if I speak true. For Bess.”

 

Chapter 22

To Helena, the meal dragged on endlessly. Guy sat apart from her, instead seated beside a small, plump woman on the far side of the king. The woman seemed determined to press herself against his arm. Helena was sorely tempted to drag the woman out of the hall by her hair. That was her man the trull had her breasts all over.

He’d barely looked in her direction the entire time they were at table.

Ranulf was placed a few seats down from her and Helena was relieved of the necessity of talking to him. His laughter seemed to rise above the other sounds in the hall and scrape against her as if she were an open wound. She could feel his eyes stray in her direction over the course of the meal, but she refused to look up and acknowledge him.

Colin seemed quiet where he sat amongst a group of courtiers of his age. She wanted to dismiss their conversation, yet his words kept revisiting her. Colin had been close to Bess. They were raised together, the three of them. Being this far north had meant they were in each other’s company constantly.

Still, Colin had shown his true colours since Guy had arrived at Lystanwold. She couldn’t blindly trust him as she had once done. She suppressed a sigh and tried to pay attention to her dinner companion who was relating a story involving the woman sitting next to Guy. Helena could only feign interest.

Trust. It all came down to that notion. Guy wanted her to trust him to see justice done. Colin wanted her to trust him to see Ranulf dead. Her eyes strayed back to Guy. They had not spoken since earlier. He was constantly called to dance attendance upon the king.

Her temper had cooled as the day wore on. She’d not been entirely reasonable or fair with Guy. Or at all fair, in fact. He’d caught her while she still raged at Ranulf. She did know why he could not strike. The eyes of the king were upon him. Stephen was here to assure himself of Guy’s loyalty and the path her husband trod was a precarious one. She also understood how much it must cost him to stay his hand. It wasn’t in his nature to sit by whilst another hurt those entrusted into his care.

Guy looked up, his face an inscrutable mask. He’d not regarded her thusly in weeks. It reminded Helena of the large stranger who’d appeared in her bedchamber beside Roger. She wanted her Guy back, the lover she had grown to crave.

She yearned to speak with him, yet it was impossible to find a moment of privacy with the keep this full of people. Guy seemed to always be where she wasn’t.

After this meal is over
, she promised herself. If she had to take him at sword point, she would speak with him. The chasm between them seemed to carve her in pieces. That Guy would demand her oath in this manner hurt more than she could have imagined.

Helena waved away the offer of more meat. Her stomach was too knotted to partake further.

Right then she made her choice. She would give the oath Guy asked for. It was the right decision. The certainty of that knowledge settled over her churning stomach. She did trust Guy. Even when they had been battling for power in the days when he first arrived, she’d never suspected his motives. She’d hated his domineering manner and resented his dominion over her, but she had always known he was just as he appeared to be. There were no veils hiding the truth within Guy.
I must tell him so
.

Now that the plan was formed, Helena was doubly eager for the meal to be over. She would find Guy and tell him he had her trust, her oath, and do what she must to heal the breach.

Without him, she was hollow inside.

Helena nearly screamed her frustration when she found the bailey empty of all sign of her husband. She’d seen him leave the table and head through the screens. It had taken her only a few moments to extricate herself from her dinner companion. Now, Guy had disappeared again. The man could move faster than if he were mounted. There were people everywhere, but not the one she sought.
The stables
. He always checked on his horses before retiring for the night.

Lifting her skirts, she ran across the inner bailey. The ground was churned from many hooves and her light slippers grew muddied, but Helena didn’t stop.

The stables were quiet. A few young boys were playing a game of stones at the far end. There was no sign of Guy. Helena moved deeper into the stables until she found Titan. The stallion whickered a soft greeting and tossed his head.

“Are you following me?”

Helena started at the sound of Guy’s voice. His chest pressed against her back.

Relief weakened her knees and she spun to face him. The support of the post was welcome against her shoulders. “I have been following you all day, but this is the first I have seen of you.”

He loomed over her, his face cast into shadow by the dim light in the stables. “Dinner?” He raised a dark brow. His hands rested on the cross beams on either side of her post, caging her.

Helena could feel the heat from his body and her blood pulsed in response. “I could not speak with you at dinner,” she replied.

Though his eyes seemed horribly remote, she dared to put her hands on his chest. “I do trust you, Guy.” The warm strength beneath her palms steadied her. “I was wrong this morning.”

There was a strange, wild look in his eyes that called to her blood. He lowered his head to her neck, his lips hot against the skin of her throat. Heat shot straight through to her core. “Guy—”

“Hush,” he rasped against her throat. “No words.” He drew his teeth across her delicate skin.

Cool air caressed her legs as his hands gathered her skirt and inched it up over her knees. Her body responded instantly, needing to feel this animal connection with him, to reassure him with her body. Between her thighs she grew ready for him. He growled as his fingers found her wet and hot.

He pushed his foot between hers, forcing her legs further apart as his fingers slid deep into her silken heat. Helena arched against his touch, groaning into his willing mouth whilst his thumb stroked the tiny bundle of sensation at her apex. Moment by moment he increased the pace. Her completion began to tighten through her body.

Hard by, the boys continued their game and she brought her fist to her mouth to stifle her cries.

Guy dropped to his knees before her, replacing his fingers with the heat of his mouth. Helena moaned into her clenched fist as he moved his mouth against her. Her breath came in short pants while his fingers continued to ply her and his mouth laved and sucked on that sweet spot. The fingers of her free hand sank into his hair.

Her climax came suddenly, shuddering through her until her knees weakened and she grabbed onto his shoulders for support.

Other books

Twice Upon a Time by Olivia Cunning
What Burns Within by Sandra Ruttan
Day by Day Armageddon by J. L. Bourne
The Hired Hero by Pickens, Andrea
Deadout by Jon McGoran
The Garden of Last Days by Dubus III, Andre
Pyro by Monique Polak