To Capture Her Heart (10 page)

Gwendolyn smiled weakly at her mother. She wouldn't tell her that her musings had nothing to do with her entrance. “I think I consumed too many yarbury tarts.”

“Do you think you should go lie down?” her mother asked, concern marring her brow.

“Nay,” she snapped quickly. “I'd rather stay here and enjoy everyone's company.” She couldn't chance missing Jarin when he came.

The remainder of the meal was spent in casual conversation, though Gwendolyn's nerves were taut the entire time. What would she do if Jarin didn't show up as planned? She refused to think of the unfavorable outcome.

Rosalind and Terric eventually took their leave while Gwendolyn waited at the table and her mother finished her tea. “Mother, I've been thinking about my gift.”

Millicent's shoulders slumped as she exhaled a heavy breath. “Gwendolyn, must we continue to talk about this? Last time I expressed my opinion on the matter you became angry with me. I must confess I do not wish to go through that again.”

“Nay, neither do I,” she uttered truthfully. “But, I've been thinking about my healing gift and I—“

Millicent's eyes widened in shock. “Truly?”

“Truly. I think that mayhap it would be a good idea for me to return to practicing it. I may not be blessed with a unique gift like Rosalind, but I am blessed nonetheless, am I not?”

“Aye child, you are.”

Gwendolyn didn't miss the delightful smile her mother gave her. She felt a twinge of guilt at lying to her mother, but she secretly hoped it would help her cause.

Both of the women rose, leaving their linen napkins behind on the table. Gwendolyn twined her arm with her mother's as they began to walk. “Being granted my entrance last night has caused me to think, think about my future and what I will do with myself.”

“But has it caused you to think further about finding a husband?” Her mother inquired boldly.

“Nay, not really. I mean, I suppose it will have to happen eventually but there isn't a rush, is there? I'd like to spend more time learning the healing art. Will you teach me everything you know?”

Her mother didn't even hesitate in her response. “But of course.”

Her obvious pleasure at the thought was as a knife twisting in Gwendolyn's gut. She hated herself for giving her mother a false sense of excitement.

But as luck would have it, she didn't have to feel guilty for long. As they were strolling past the main entrance of the keep, they both came to an abrupt halt as a loud, incessant pounding echoed through the air. Gwendolyn stilled. Could it be that Jarin had finally arrived?

They both listened curiously as one of the defenders standing guard at the door pushed it open. Gwendolyn craned her neck to see, but her view was blocked by the man. She held her breath as she tried to listen to what was going on.

“Please, sir, I must speak to the king's mother,” she could hear Jarin's familiar voice begging.

Her heartbeat quickened as she turned wide eyes on her mother. “Somebody is looking for you. Should we go see what it is about?”

Millicent hesitated. “Mayhap we should let the defenders deal with the stranger. If it is of any importance, they will surely seek me out.”

“But aren't you even a little bit curious why somebody would come here looking for you?” She was pleading, she knew, but she wasn't about to let this opportunity pass.

“I suppose I am a little curious.” Before she could let her mother say anything futher, Gwendolyn was dragging her to the door. She had to hide her elation at the sight of Jarin standing at the door, his hair mused and his clothing unkempt. This was it; their plan was falling into place.

“What is going on here,” Millicent asked the defender holding the door ajar.

“This lad insists on speaking with you. He mentioned he has an ill mother and he insists 'tis of the utmost importance.”

Jarin boldly took a step forward into the castle, ignoring the way the defender stiffened beside him. “I'm truly sorry, my lady, to be a bother to you, but my mother is dying. I've heard of your extraordinary healing abilities and came to plead with you to heal her.”

Gwendolyn pulled on her mother's sleeve anxiously. “Mother, we cannot let this lad's mother die.”

She knew her kindhearted mother would not refuse her services to anyone, especially to a young lad and she was not disappointed when her mother straightened her shoulders and said, “Nay, we cannot.” Turning to the boy she said calmly, “Let me gather my things, and I will follow you to your home.”

Gwendolyn knew it was time to act. She risked a quick glance at Jarin, hoping to gather some strength from him before forging ahead. “But mother, you have promised Rosalind you would visit the village with her today and help her pick out some fabric for her new gowns.”

“True, but that can wait. I'm sure Rosalind will be very understanding when she knows why I have to postpone our outing.”

“But mother,” she said frantically. “I know how excited you have been to visit the shops. Please, I have an idea.”

Her mother looked down at her quizzically, perhaps wondering why she was speaking so swiftly, so passionately. She forced herself to make her voice sound calm. “Why don't you let me go to the lad's mother? Wasn't I just telling you that I wanted to practice the healing art more fully?”

She could tell her mother looked skeptical, so she decided to appeal to her vanity. “I have learned from the best healer in Darth. Your talent and skill are unmatched. Surely I am well equipped to deal with whatever ails his mother.”

It felt like long drawn out minutes before her mother finally answered. “Very well.” Gwendolyn felt elation fill her breast. “I will agree to let you go with me. Let's gather our stuff and be on our way.”

Nay, she screamed in her head as she watched her mother turn and flee down the corridor. That wasn't how things were supposed to happen. She briefly turned to Jarin and tried to convey to him with her eyes what she was feeling. She had to talk to him; she had to sort out this mess.

Pretending a calm formality she didn't feel, she turned to Jarin. “Please wait outside in the courtyard, we will be with you as soon as possible,” then she turned and fled as fast as she could.

Escaping out of the castle undetected was not a problem. She had the freedom to come and go as she wished, but she needed to speak to Jarin without anyone noticing. She slid across the outer stone walls of the castle, trying to melt into the walls as she made her way to the courtyard. She was relieved when she spotted Jarin standing by himself, though she didn't want to talk to him out in the open.

“Come here,” she hissed, hoping he would hear, but he stood still, both hands shoved deeply in his pockets.

She reached down and picked up a small pebble and launched it at him to get his attention. She almost felt guilty when the small stone bounced off of his head.

“Ouch,” he muttered as he quickly rubbed the spot where the rock had come in contact. He whipped around to see who had dared throw the stone at him.

“Jarin,” Gwendolyn whispered loudly. His eyes widened in surprise as he caught his first glimpse of her. She beckoned with his hands for him to come to her, which he did swiftly and without question.

As soon as he reached her, she pulled him forcefully around the corner where she could speak to him privately. “I need you to fix what just happened in there.”

He looked at her as if she had sprouted a second head. “But I did exactly what you told me to do.”

“But she was supposed to agree to let me go by myself. She only agreed to let me go with her. There's no way we will be able to escape to the magic festival with my mother glued to my side. And have you forgotten?  You have no sick mother to take us to either.”

Placing both hands on her face, she moaned. “Oh, this is such a mess.”

Jarin placed a hand on her shoulder. “I will take care of your mother, I have an idea to deter her. But I have no idea how you'll get away from here by yourself.”

Gwendolyn nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to think of something. Finally she said, “Well, I didn't want to have to do it this way, but I see no other option. I'm just going to have to run away.”

Jarin stiffened. “Gwendolyn, if we get caught...” He didn't finish his thought.

“We won't get caught; that's all there is to it,” she said with a mock confidence she didn't feel. “Leave the details up to me. I want you to meet me in the gardens at midnight.”

“Very well,” he said, resigned to the fact that he'd have to trust her.

She turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, and I'll be disguised as a young lad.”

Turning, she fled back into the castle.

Chapter 13

Escape

Oh what a coil she had gotten herself into, Gwendolyn thought as she finished packing a small bag. Nearly as soon as she had returned to the castle earlier, her mother had come down carrying her trunk of herbs. She had given Gwendolyn a curious look, as if to ask her why she wasn't ready to leave, but before she could verbalize her question, there was a knock on the door. Jarin had wasted no time in returning to the castle either.

“I thought I told you to wait in the courtyard,” the defender barked at the lad.

Both Gwendolyn and Millicent moved forward to hear his response. He looked directly into Millicent's face and Gwendolyn noticed there were tears in his eyes. Suddenly, she was even more curious to hear what his plan was.

“I won't be needing your services anymore.”

“What?” Millicent asked incredulously.

“Unless you can bring the living back from the dead, I no longer need your services,” he clarified.

Gwendolyn wanted to laugh when his voice actually broke and one big, fat tear slid down his face. He had missed his calling in life, she thought.

Millicent gasped softly. “My dear lad, I am so sorry to hear. But, how could you know that already? Surely you didn't have time to return home while I was gathering my supplies.”

Her mother was shrewd, she'd give her that. Jarin's eyes widened perceptibly before he turned and fled into the courtyard and disappeared altogether, without further explanation.

“Good riddance,” the defender mumbled as he slammed the door shut.

“How odd,” Millicent mused.

“Yes, how odd. But look at it this way,” Gwendolyn brightened. “You no longer have to miss your trip into the village with Rosalind.”

And that had been the end of that. Gwendolyn had refused Rosalind's invitation to join them on the excursion, feigning exhaustion, but really she had a terribly lot to accomplish if she wanted to escape that night with Jarin. First on her list was finding a tunic and some hose to use for her disguise. She had stalked straight to the stables as soon as her mother and Rosalind had left and quickly secured the items she needed by bribing a young lad with a few coins and swearing him to secrecy.

Now, here she stood wearing the unfamiliar clothing. The tunic was billowy, helping to disguise that she was a woman. The hose fit snugly to her legs, but she thought them rather comfortable. She took the letter she had painstakingly written to her family and placed it on the center of her bed. She had chosen her words carefully, making sure that she did not give any inkling to where she planned to be, knowing that if she did, her brother would waste no time coming for her. Or worse, sending Gavin to retrieve her like he had done before.

She wasn't naïve enough to think that her family would just let her traipse off on her adventure without any consequences. Nay, she knew full well that Terric would send people to look for her and that her mother would be sick with worry, but she was hoping that by the time they found her letter, she and Jarin would have a large enough head start that they could slip into the forest undetected. Mayhap when she came home she'd tell them where she'd really been. Mostly likely Terric would demand it, but she'd deal with that then. In the meantime, she would pray for their forgiveness instead.

Pulling on the worn leather boots that she'd acquired, Gwendolyn straightened. This was it, she thought, time to go. The boots were a few sizes too big, so she had to be extra careful as she made her way through the corridors not to let them clop loudly on the ground. A few times the flames flickering in the scones along the walls would cast eerie shadows, causing her to jump. Her nerves felt on edge as she made her way as quietly and quickly as possible out of the castle.

When she finally reached the courtyard, she breathed a sigh of relief. The cool night air was a welcome relief to her skin that had grown balmy during her escape. Anxious to get to her meeting place, she picked up her pace and jogged towards the gardens, hoping she wouldn't fall in her haste.

***

There was nothing Gavin wished he was doing at the late hour more than he wished he was sleeping. And he had been, before Talbot had woken him with his awful retching. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness just in time to see the dog vomit all over the floor. Gavin sprang out of bed, pulling some clothing on haphazardly before quickly dragging the dog out of the room.

He had been assigned to nighttime duty with Talbot, who normally slept at the foot of King Terric's bed, when the worthless mutt had gotten into some rotten food in the kitchen. Afraid he would become ill, the king had asked Gavin to take him for the night to watch after him, and how was Gavin supposed to say no to the king?

Talbot vomited several more times as they entered the courtyard. Gavin was relieved that the dog had waited until they were outside before he retched again. Looking up into the black sky, Gavin cursed his bad luck. But mayhap it wasn't considered bad luck when his situation was a result of his own poor choices. What was his situation then if not pure bad luck? Looking down at Talbot who was now laying on the ground next to his vomit whimpering like a new pup, Gavin thought there was no other way to describe his situation but shameful.

Soon Talbot began snoring loudly. Gavin looked down at him in dismay. There was no way he was going to stay out in the courtyard with the sick dog all night. Thinking back to his soiled room, he quickly decided he would not be returning there either. Bending, he shook Talbot awake and grabbed his collar, forcing him to walk towards the gardens. If he was going to be forced to stay the rest of the night outdoors, he'd at least do it somewhere more comfortable.