The Hidden Heart (25 page)
Gillian rode with Catrin, while Rannulf draped Steffan over March's withers and leapt into the saddle behind him. They raced out the open gate and onto a trail into the forest, no sounds of pursuit following them.
But their good fortune couldn't last for long.
“We're going the wrong way!” Gillian told Catrin as she clung to the saddle and prayed her stomach would remain calm.
“We're meeting Talbot and Connor FitzClifford,” Catrin said.
“Connor's here?”.
“Ayeâhe came with Talbot and Rannulf.”
Gillian reached up to brush her trailing hair from her eyes. “Why aren't they at Gwal Draig?” Connor's presence must mean he'd forgiven Rannulf. She hoped their mother had come from FitzClifford as well.
“They were supposed to escort the two of you back to I'Eau Clair,” she said as she tugged on the reins to slow her mount as they entered a thick stand of trees. “This new plan will be better, though, for you'll be safe with us, and you'll be able to rest.”
They stopped, and Nicholas and Connor stepped out from behind the trees, leading their horses. Connor looked nothing like she'd expected, for Rannulf had described a very different person than the healthy-looking, brawny man who approached them.
“I'll take him,” Connor said, lifting Steffan's still body easily and setting him on the ground.
I hope there's some poisonous plant growing there,
Gillian thought with a burst of anger. He deserved any torment she could devise.
Gillian thought with a burst of anger. He deserved any torment she could devise.
“Will you take him and leave him someplace where he won't come to too much harm?” Rannulf asked Nicholas.
“Why not kill him?” her guardian asked, making the scheme sound reasonable.
Catrin strolled closer to him. “Because 'twould be a fleeting pleasure, milordâappealing, over too swiftly, leaving naught but regrets. You're familiar with that feeling, I'd imagine,” she added with a smug smile.
Nicholas's face reddened and he turned away. “Give me the bastard,” he told Connor. “We can take care of himâyou go on to Gwal Draig. We'll meet you there.”
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Catrin set about pampering Gillian as soon as they arrived at Gwal Draig. Gillian climbed into a tub of warm water with a moan of pleasure and didn't climb out until she'd scrubbed from head to toe. Now she sat drowsing by the fire as her hair dried, her belly full of dry bread and mead. If Rannulf would join her, her happiness would be complete.
It would take a while, she'd imagine, to remove whatever paint he'd covered his face and hands with. Though Catrin had warned her of how he'd appear, she'd been surprised by how different he looked.
But she'd have known him anywhere, no matter how he was garbed.
She heard the door open and close behind her. Smiling, she didn't bother to turn, for she knew it must be Catrin, come to bully her into something.
The smell of sandalwood warned her of her mistake; the withered apple that dropped into her lap confirmed it. “Rannulf,” she murmured, rising half out of the chair before he gently pressed her back down onto the cushioned seat.
“My love,” he whispered. He moved around the chair to sit on the floor by her feet. He rested his cheek on her knees and settled his palm on her belly. “Did you swallow an apple seed?” he asked her, his voice alight with laughter.
She giggled. “Is that what happened?”
He raised his head and met her gaze, his dark eyes warm and full of love. “I do believe an apple was involved,” he said seriously.
“I believe you're right.”
He rose on his knees and wrapped his arms about her. “I'm so glad you're all right,” he whispered, his voice shaking. He buried his face in her hair and held her. “So glad you're finally mine.”
She savored his touch, the wave of love and contentment that flowed from him to her and back again. “As you are mine, milord.” Framing his face in her hands, she drew back and pressed a kiss to his lips. “And don't you ever forget it, my love.”
“I'd sooner forget how to breathe.”
In one swift motion he stood, scooped her into his arms and sat down with her nestled in his lap. “We've so much to talk about.” She snuggled deeper into his hold and rested her head against his chest. “Your family, my guardian, my cousins, I'Eau Clair, my father's wishes...”
“Aye, loveâI've much to tell you,” Rannulf murmured. “Though I hardly know where to begin.”
“Is everyone at I'Eau Clair safe?” she asked, not bothering to disguise her sense of urgency. Her concern for her people and her home had been nigh as strong as her worry about Rannulf the past few days, haunting her thoughts.
His eyes darkened. “Most everyone. Several of the villagers were killed in the crush of battle in the bailey, as were a few of our men, God rest them.” He took her hand in his after she crossed herself and pressed a kiss upon her fingers before placing it palm down against his chest. “But considering the intensity of the fighting, we suffered little harm.”
“Will and Sir Henry?” she asked, her gaze fixed on his face.
A faint smile brightened his expression. “Those two? 'Twould take more than a few Welshmen to best them.” His smile deepened. “A bit battered and bruised when we left, but nothing serious.”
Despite her pleasure at the welcome news, a chill passed through her. “I saw Marged killed,” she whispered, the image etched in her memory tainting her joy at her friends' survival.
Rannulf's expression sobered. “Aye, she's deadâ and Richard as well. 'Tis a just payment for their treachery.”
“Treachery?” Gillian shifted in Rannulf's lap so she might see his face more clearly. “Richard's hatred of me was clear enough, but Margedâ”
“It seems that Marged was Steffan's spy, my love, and Richard her willing accomplice. Nicholas gleaned that much from Richard before he died of his injuries soon after the Welsh fled I'Eau Clair. Oneâor bothâof them must have seen us using the passageway, and passed the information on to Steffan.”
She thought back over the two servants' behavior; if they'd been in Steffan's employ it explained a great deal, for she'd noticed several times that their actions and expressions had seemed odd, furtive. Wrapping her arms about Rannulf's waist, she laid her head against his chest and held him tightly. “Should we have recognized what they were doing? Were we so distracted by our pleasure that it blinded us to their schemes?”
He stroked her hair and nestled her closer. “Perhaps.” He brushed a kiss along her cheek. “We'll never know, love. But there's naught we can do to change the past. I realize that more than ever now. All we can do is to learn from our mistakes, and vow to do better. I've made that promise to my brother, and I intend to keep it.” He eased her away from his chest and framed her face in his hands. “And I make that vow to you, Gillian, and to our child. I'll never stop regretting that my father died by my hand, but I see now that there's nothing to be gained by punishing myself for the rest of my life.”
“I refuse to allow you to,” she told him fiercely. “'Tis time to look to your future, to our futureâours and our child's. Your responsibilities have changed.” Her gaze holding his captive, she asked. “Does this mean you're finished with your work for my godfather? Will he allow you to stop spying, to lead a normal life?”
Rannulf drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My task is complete, and I shall not seek another from Pembroke. I know now that Nicholas Talbot is no close friend to the king, and is not deserving of Pembroke's distrust. Nor do I believe him any threat to you, especially since he's given me permissionânay, he's ordered me, as your guardian and my overlordâto make an honest woman of you,” he added, his smile brightening his face and eyes.
Gillian's heart thumped harder in her chest, sending a wave of anticipation thrumming through her. “Has he indeed?”
“Aye. You're free of Talbot's hold, but I hope you'll soon be caught firmly within mine.” He tightened his hands about her middle. “I feel as though the weight of the past has been lifted from me. All I desire from life is simply to hold you, to show you all I've held hidden in my heart these many years.” He, kissed her lips slowly, reverently, in a solemn vow. “Will you marry me, Gillian? Will you help me make a life for us, allow me to make up to you for the pain I've caused you?” He laced his fingers with hers and traced his tongue over her palm. “Let me care for you, for our babe,” he added, placing their joined hands on her stomach.
“We say yes, milord.
I
say yes.” She turned his hand and pressed her lips to his callused fingers. “With all my heart.”
I
say yes.” She turned his hand and pressed her lips to his callused fingers. “With all my heart.”
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ISBN : 978-1-4592-5099-4
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THE HIDDEN HEART
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Copyright © 1999 by Sharon M Schulze
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All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontano, Canada M3B 3K9
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
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