Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me (17 page)

She wanted to become one with him, to make their marriage true. Surely they could form a bond and work through their differences if they united in this way.

He moaned again, but this time it sounded as though he were in pain. His shoulders tensed; his hands trembled. “Nay.”

Her heart stopped.
Dear heavens, what had she done wrong?

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Not now,” he murmured. He released her and held a hand to his head.

“Nicholas? What is it?”

Another groan emerged from his lips, much different from the one he’d made earlier. His forehead creased as he rubbed his brow.

She tried to push aside her hurt to determine what had gone amiss. Had he changed his mind? Had he been injured somehow?

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” she whispered as she caressed his arm.

“Hell’s teeth,” he muttered. He kept his hand over his face.

Convinced he was in pain, she waited as he quieted, the tension in his body easing slightly. Frightened at his odd behavior, she touched his cheek with gentle fingers. “Nicholas?”

He didn’t respond.

Elizabeth felt the distance between them spread like a chasm though they still touched. She played the last few moments back through her mind, wondering if she’d done something wrong. It was all a bit of a blur. Passion seemed to have the same effect as too much wine, making one’s memory dim and cloudy.

Determined to help if she could, she placed gentle hands on either side of his cheeks. “Are you unwell? Should I get help?”

He heaved a great sigh then opened his eyes, eyes that were clear, no longer burning with passion. His expression seemed resigned, sad even.

She breathed deep, relief that he wasn’t angry making her giddy.

Until she heard his next words.

“We must return home. At once.”

Devastated, she could only watch as he released her to pick up his tunic, her heart squeezing with pain at his rejection of her once again.

Chapter Seventeen

Nicholas rode through the gate of Staverton with Elizabeth by his side. The rain had stopped and the clouds had moved on, gracing another part of the country with their moisture. The cheerfulness of the shining sun seemed incongruous next to his foul mood.

He gave orders to lower the portcullis behind them and advised Stephen to put extra men on watch before continuing into the bailey.

“Would you give me the courtesy of explaining our abrupt departure?” Elizabeth asked.

What could he tell her that wouldn’t make him sound crazed? “A difficulty arose that I hadn’t anticipated,” he muttered.

The vision had only provided him with a glimpse of a scene, but had left him stunned. A man holding a knife at Elizabeth’s throat. He hadn’t seen the man’s face or any other details that might explain who he was or why he’d harm Elizabeth. The bits and pieces visions gave him frustrated the hell out of him.

Especially this one.

The protectiveness that had surged through him surprised him nearly as much as the scene had. Why couldn’t he contain these feelings for her when his mind so clearly knew he needed to keep his distance?

“I can only assume I’m the ‘difficulty’ you speak of,” Elizabeth said, her tone flat.

His behavior at the cottage had obviously both hurt and confused her. He tried to imagine telling her of his second sight. Nay. She’d think him some sort of monster as so many others had. If he couldn’t tell her of his vision, he couldn’t tell her of the man with the knife.

“Not exactly,” he said, well aware that wasn’t much of an answer.

His instincts told him a threat was imminent but he knew not from who nor when. He could think of no reason anyone would hurt Elizabeth. All he could do was keep watch over her. The best place to do that was within the protected walls of Staverton.

The memory of her in his arms made him shift in his saddle uncomfortably. Her passion had nearly undone him. She’d been more responsive to his touch than he’d dreamed a wife could be. Yet, he could hardly have finished what he’d started after that damned vision.

The timing of it was unbelievable. He couldn’t help but interpret it as some sort of sign that he wasn’t meant to make Elizabeth his. Perhaps he’d just avoided a huge mistake.

Or had he made one?

Hell’s teeth
! The woman had him twisted in knots.

As they rode up to the stable, Thomas ran out to greet them, the relief in his face evident as his gaze rested on Elizabeth. “My lady!”

She looked surprised at the urgency in the boy’s tone. “Greetings, Thomas.”

“I’m very pleased to see you.” The boy gave a small bow, his eyes watering suspiciously.

Elizabeth’s mouth parted and distress filled her expression at the boy’s obvious concern. Before Nicholas could aid her, she slid off her horse and gave Thomas a hug. She bent down to look him in the eye. “Thank you for sending Lord de Bremont after me. That was very thoughtful.”

The boy nodded, his throat working hard. He ducked his head and took the reins of her horse. “My pleasure,” he muttered, then spun away to lead her mare inside.

Elizabeth turned to Nicholas with a puzzled expression as she rose.

He’d be willing to place a wager that she was surprised at how concerned Thomas was. Apparently, she didn’t realize how much all the servants cared for her despite her brief time here. Even he –
Nay. He would not finish that thought. Not now.

“I’ll see how William fares,” she said, her voice quiet.

“I’ll accompany you.” Nicholas dismounted and tied his horse to a post outside the stable door, certain Thomas would return for it.

She sent him a questioning look at his suggestion. “Don’t you trust me to do so?”

“Aye, but I would see how he is doing as well.” He couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling deep in his stomach. He had no intention of letting Elizabeth out of his sight until she was inside, and he could be sure she was safe.

They started across the bailey in silence with Elizabeth lifting the hem of her cloak and gown to keep them out of the mud the rain had left behind. A shout from the gate stopped Nicholas mid-stride.

Elizabeth halted as well and looked at him curiously. “What is it?”

“Visitors.” Nicholas waited to see if he could hear what the guards said, wondering who it could be. Cottages stood between them and the gate, blocking their view, but Nicholas knew no strangers would be allowed admittance without reason.

Stephen appeared at the far end of the bailey, riding his horse at a full gallop toward Nicholas, mud flying. He slowed just before he reached them. “We have guests.”

“And who would that be?” Nicholas knew it was no friend from the displeased expression on Stephen’s face.

The man glanced at Elizabeth. “My lady, the man claims to be your cousin.”

Elizabeth looked taken aback. “Gerard? Lord Gerard Perry?”

“Aye,” confirmed Stephen.

She heaved a sigh then glanced at Nicholas. “I suppose he’s gotten word of our marriage. I’d better speak with him.”

“Not if you don’t wish to,” Nicholas advised her.

“Trust me. It’s better to get this over with. Gerard can be very...persistent.”

Nicholas decided she didn’t mean that as a compliment. “He’s your cousin?”

“Second cousin to be precise. On my father’s side. Though Gerard always claims a closer relationship with my family than second cousin normally implies.”

Nicholas frowned, wondering what she meant by that. Her comment made him curious about this man and his relationship with Elizabeth.

“Shall I let him in?” Stephen asked.

Nicholas turned to his wife. “Shall he?”

Elizabeth stared at him, her elegant brow arched. She seemed taken aback that he was allowing her to make this decision. Truth be told, he’d rather keep the gate closed, but it was her cousin.

She glanced down at her gown, which looked rather the worse for the wear after she’d ridden through the rain. Spatters of mud speckled the bottom half. Damp spots were still visible on the light fabric. She’d fashioned her hair in a loose braid before they’d left the cottage, but strands had escaped to curl about her face. She grimaced.

“Aye, let him in,” she said, seemingly resigned to her bedraggled appearance.

“Why don’t you go change and...” He paused, not daring to think of the other things she might do to make herself ready, for that brought to mind her soft bare skin, long limbs and slender curves. All of which he’d so recently seen and touched in vivid detail. Damn.

Stephen cleared his throat and sent a questioning look at Nicholas.

Nicholas reined in his wayward thoughts. “Stephen can delay your cousin’s entrance for a time. We’ll have him shown into the hall when he arrives and wait for you there.”

Elizabeth frowned up at him, and he could almost hear her question.
Why are you being nice to me now?

He had no answer. He only knew that he wanted to protect her from any possible harm. Surely she’d prefer to look her best when she greeted her cousin for the first time as Lady de Bremont.

That was all.

Nothing else.

*

Elizabeth sat down with a thump upon the bed in her chamber. Tired and chilled to the bone, she rubbed her temples to ease the nagging pain that had started soon after the conversation with the smithy’s wife and had returned three-fold since she and Nicholas had left the cottage. She tried to untangle what had happened there, but the task was impossible.

How could she have guessed how much would happen, how much would change in so short a time? Heat filled her cheeks at the memory of the afternoon.

With careful fingers she twisted her wedding ring upon her finger. She feared she’d done the worst thing: fallen in love with her husband. To open her heart to him, to allow herself to become so vulnerable to a man who found her attractive physically, but abhorred her so much that he couldn’t bring himself to make her his wife in full.

That was a horrible thing indeed.

The tears she hadn’t shed after his dismissal of her at the cottage filled her eyes at last. The worst of it was that she’d let herself hope. She’d let herself believe that his feelings for her had changed. How could she have so badly misread the signs he’d given? He’d been the one to pull her close, to kiss her until her head reeled. Why would he do that if he didn’t care for her?

Never could she have guessed at the way he’d made her feel – the passion he’d aroused in her, the feelings he’d evoked in her heart. And she’d made her enjoyment of it all quite clear. She closed her eyes at the memory of her wanton behavior. If he’d thought her a seductress before, what could he possibly think of her now? She knew his respect for her must’ve dropped like a stone in a deep well.

She wiped away her tears, for she’d already shed enough of them. Then, she rose to remove her wet clothing, trying to summon the energy she needed to deal with Gerard. Before she’d done more than take off her cloak, a knock sounded at the door. Surprised, she opened it to find Mary and two other maids carrying a bathing tub and buckets.

“Lord de Bremont said you’d be needing a bath, my lady,” Mary said with her customary cheerful smile.

Confused, Elizabeth simply stood staring at the women and their buckets of steaming water.

“Do you want us to come back later?” Mary asked.

Warmth filled Elizabeth at her husband’s thoughtfulness. “Nay. Now would be lovely.” She opened the door wide to let them in.

Mary and the other maidservants soon had the small tub filled with hot water, and Elizabeth immersed in it. She sighed appreciatively as the water chased away the chill.

What could Nicholas mean by this gesture? Unable to come up with any sort of reasonable explanation for his behavior or odd mood swings, she resigned herself to enjoy the bath.

The other two maidservants left while Mary remained to help wash her hair, her touch firm but gentle as she worked the soap into Elizabeth’s long tresses.

The maid chatted, pulling Elizabeth’s thoughts away from Nicholas. “Edith is sitting with Sir William, my lady. I’m sorry to say we haven’t seen him move one bit. I can’t imagine what’s keeping that man asleep.”

“Nor can I,” Elizabeth mumbled, pleased to know she wasn’t the only one frustrated with William’s lack of progress.

Mary stepped to the side to lift a bucket of clean water to rinse Elizabeth’s hair. “Edith got a bit of broth into him, drip by drip. Thank the Lord the woman’s got the patience of a saint.”

“’Tis good that one of us does,” Elizabeth added from beneath the folds of a linen cloth she held over her face to keep the water out of her eyes.

Mary laughed. “You have more than enough for all of us, my lady.”

Elizabeth sighed. “I wonder if that’s part of the problem. Perhaps ’tis time for us to get a bit angry with William.”

“How would we do that, my lady?”

“I’m not sure, but I do know my patience is nearly at an end.”

Mary continued to visit as she looked through Elizabeth’s gowns while Elizabeth soaked. Mary found a saffron gown with dark brown embroidery decorating the neckline. “Will this be satisfactory, my lady?”

After a brief glance, Elizabeth nodded. She didn’t care what she wore to greet Gerard, but she didn’t want to look a pauper. Otherwise her cousin would assume her marriage had not been a favorable one. The last thing she needed was for Gerard to make any sort of trouble.

Mary set out a pair of soft, leather slippers as Elizabeth finished washing.

Elizabeth didn’t dally overlong, for she worried what Nicholas and Gerard might be saying to each other in the hall. She couldn’t imagine the two men chatting amiably given their different personalities.

Feeling more prepared to speak with her cousin, Elizabeth dried off, donned her undertunic followed by her gown. Mary combed her hair and with quick fingers, plaited it with a ribbon.

All too soon, she was ready to go down to the great hall to see Gerard. Could the day get any worse? She hoped he didn’t wish to stay the night.

*

Nicholas tapped a finger against the table idly as he sat in the hall, wondering how Stephen had managed to detain Elizabeth’s cousin this long. However he’d managed it, Nicholas appreciated the delay. He doubted this meeting would be a pleasant one.

After taking time to clean up and change, he now sat with a flagon of ale before him, a cup already poured. Waiting. Though he wasn’t thirsty, he drank since it was there. Surprised at the taste, he took another sip. He rolled the brew in his mouth for a moment, enjoying the flavor. Rather than the bitter, watered down ale normally served, this was smooth and tasted faintly of apple.

Another improvement for which to thank his wife. He shook his head. She’d affected every aspect of his life in a short time. After the events of the afternoon, he wasn’t certain how to proceed with her. His desire and protective instincts had both been aroused, and neither was easy to set aside. What he’d believed to be right or wrong no longer seemed to apply when it came to his wife.

What he wanted had changed.