wcEND.rtf (39 page)

"You have just done that," Hunter said.

"Yet no one else shall ever know," Bruce said. "For your own safety, no one must ever know."

And Hunter realized it truly mattered not whether he could shout the joyful tidings from the battlements of his castle to the world to hear. He knew who his father was and that was enough for him. Especially now that he had
Détra
's acceptance. An acceptance he had jeopardized by lying to her again about the chalice's whereabouts.

"We must part now," Hunter said. "I must care for my
lady wife. When next we meet, most probably in the battlefield, I shall turn my back to you."

Bruce nodded. "And I to you."

******************

IN THE BATTLEMENT OF THE PE
L
E TOWER, RUPERT watched me sun rising on the horizon, seething at being under the guard of a Scotsman. He should be grateful, though, that his participation in Détra's abduction had not been exposed to Hunter. Had it not been for Douglas, Bruce's faithful friend, having recognized him, Rupert would probably now be dead. He had no illusions Hunter would forgive him for having abducted Détra.

Rupert was also grateful he was dragged from his eavesdropping position after he had overheard part of Hunter and Bruce's conversation, and not before.

He had heard enough that strong suspicions rose in his mind.

The possibility Bruce could be Hunter's father pleased and annoyed Rupert at the same time. Pleased him, for what better weapon to use against Hunter than his possible kinship to Bruce, self-proclaimed king of Scotland? And annoyed him, for Hunter should be the spawn of some unknown lowborn villein and not the son of a nobleman.

And yet a nobleman who surely would never claim his bastard.

However, the mere possibility, especially backed up by the physical evidence of the chalice, should be all Rupert needed to cast serious doubts in King Edward's mind about Hunter's loyalty to him and to England. Mayhap even enough to have Hunter stripped of Windermere and his marriage to Détra annulled.

The thought cast a warm glow on Rupert's mood.

A while later, when Hunter left the pe
l
e tower unharmed and, along with hi
s wife, departed me clearing un
hindered, Rupert's suspicions grew stronger.

Hunter had landed on his feet again, Rupert seemed, but his good fortune was about to end.

Rupert followed the guard down the stairs. It was time to speak with Bruce.

******************

ISABEL DIDN'T DARE GLANCE OVER HER SHOULDER AS she sat stiffly on her mare while she and Hunter rode away from their captors. She counted the seconds in her mind, expecting at any moment to be yanked back by Scottish hands. Only when they'd ridden for quite a good while, and she had lost count of time, did she begin to believe they were truly free.

And only then did she allow herself to react to the horror of the last few days. The trembling of her lips spread like wildfire throughout her body. Never in her life had she been exposed to such violence, and never would she forget such a horrific experience.

Used to feeling relatively safe in a world whose rules she understood, Isabel was shaken to her core by the thought she cou
l
d've died for no reason whatsoever.

But since when had violence made any sense? She was deluding herself to think she was safer in me future, where her views were colored by the fact she'd never been a victim of crime. Unfortunately, poverty, crime, wars, and terrorism still existed in the future. She'd just been lucky it had never affected her directly.

As she was lucky Hunter had been here to save her. The memory of the three dead me
n
—
m
en Hunter had kille
d
—
c
ame back to her, and a bout of nausea threatened to overtake her.

"Hunter," she called, swallowing down the bitter bile. "I need to stop."

Without waiting for his help, Isabel slid down her
mount to her feet and unsteadily rushed to the edge of the woods flanking the road. Hunter caught up with her and held her head low as she retched miserably, her empty stomach rebelling at the pain.

When she was done he led her to the shade of a tree. She sat down, her face in her hands, her body shaking with sobs. Hunter held her until she calmed down, then he rose and went to his horse, returning to her side with a canteen of water. He took his gloves off, poured some water in his hand, then gently washed away her tears and the dust on her face.

"It is over, Détra."

"Is it?" she asked, glancing to the road from where they had come from. "Will they not follow us?" She didn't think she'd ever feel entirely safe again.

"Nay. There is no need to worry."

"How can you be sure?" She still couldn't believe the Scots had let them go.

"Bruce gave me his word."

"Bruce? As in Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland?" Isabel's mouth fel
l
agape. "How did you get England's archenemy to release us?" Good God! Had Hunter been forced to compromise his integrity or loyalty to his country to save their lives?

Hunter jerked to his feet and offered her his hand. "We still have a long journey ahead of us. We should not delay."

She took his hand and rose to her feet. "You did not answer my question."

"
There are things better left unsaid, Détra."

"There are too many things left unsaid between us," she said, acutely aware she had no moral backing for righteous demanding of the truth from Hunter when she herself had lied to him from the very beginning. But weren't most of their problems derived from their lies? If Hunter
hadn't lied to her about the chalice's whereabouts, she wouldn't have gone to the lake and wouldn't have been kidnapped. God only knew what had happened to poor Maude. Isabel didn't even want to think about that. She had to hope Maude had gotten away.

"I want no more lies between us," Isabel said, determined to come clean as well. She couldn't bear the thought that Détra might return and reveal to Hunter that Isabel had lied to him all the while she was here.

Hunter was also tired of lies. He was well aware of the many secrets he had kept from Détra, and the consequences of keeping them. And he would lie no more. And he would begin by telling her his deepest secret.

"Bruce let us go because I am his son," Hunter said without preamble.

"What?" Détra staggered back in shock. "When did you find that out? Is that why he kidnapped me? To get to you? Good God, Hunter, you finally know!"

Hunter shook his head, smiling at how her mind jumped from one thought to another. "Bruce had naught to do with your abduction. I know not what he was doing at the pe
l
e tower and I did not ask, but while we were inside he told me the truth. And, aye, it is wonderful indeed to finally know."

"How can you be sure he was telling the truth?"

"He had proof."

"Proof?"

He to
l
d her then of the chalice Bruce had given to his mother, of him not knowing about Hunter until his mother had died, of paying Lord Reginald to foster him into knighthood. "For obvious reasons," Hunter continued, "Bruce cannot claim me as his son, but he had wanted me to know the truth. And now that I know, and that you know, no one else must know. This is a secret we must keep forever, Détra."

"I understand, and I am glad you trusted me with such a secret. How do you feel about knowing who is your father? Does it change anything for you? I mean, in your heart?"

Hunter pondered on the question for a moment. Aye, it changed everything. Knowledge of his father's name gave Hunter power to accept once and for all his past and look to the future with his lady wife. That was if she forgave him again.

"Aye, I am truly glad to know my father's name, but, D
e
'tra, to the world I must remain a bastard
.
Can you accept that?"

"A princely bastard? Sure," she teased.

He grinned at her jest.

"It does not matter to me who is your father," she said. "What matte
r
s is who you are." She hugged him tight.

Détra
's acceptance meant the world to him, but they still had matters to resolve. He still had to find out who abducted her and why. Not to mention the small detail of his keeping the chalice from her. He would have to broach that matter soon, but before that he needed to know more about her abduction. "How did the Scots get to you?" he asked. "Was Windermere attacked?"

She shook her head. "I was at the lake."

"At the lake?
"
His voice rose. "Why did Gervase allow such folly when he knew Scots were but a day's ride from Windermere?"

"It was not his fault, Hunter. I convinced him that I would be safe. Besides, he sent two guards to protect us."

"The safety of Windermere and its people in my absence falls onto Gervase's shoulders, not yours,
Détra
. You could have been killed."

Bristling over his harsh tone,
Détra
spat, "Had you told me the truth of the chalice's whereabouts I would not have been there in the first place."

"Was that what you were doing at the
l
ake? Searching for the chalice?"

Deus!
It had been his fault that Détra was abducted. She could have been killed. The pain on his shoulders seemed to intensify, and Hunter suddenly felt older than his years, more tired than he had ever felt in his
l
ife.

"Why did you lie to me about the chalice, Hunter?" she asked.

No more secrets. No more lies between them.

"I was fearful the chalice would return you to your old self, to the Détra who hated me, who wanted naught to do with me, and thus destroy my dream of a perfect life with you."

His hands shot through his hair. "Now I know there is no perfect life, no perfect dream. That you should not wish for what cannot be yours. For even when dreams come true they might not be exactly as you wished them to be."

"Sometimes reality can be better than dreams," she said.

"Aye, and you have exceeded mine." He touched her face, still beautiful even marred with dust and tears. "You are not happy with me, my lady wife. Your relentless search for the chalice proves you cannot be happy until you are what you are, not what I want you to be."

He walked to his horse and picked up the sachet containing the chalice, then returned to her side. Giving it to her, he said, "Here it is. I give your life back to you in the hopes you would still want to share it with me."

With trembling hands, Isabel squeezed the sachet.

"Whatever happens, though," he warned, "our union shall stand. Naught shall change that. I vow to be fair, to protect and care for you even if you cannot be my heart wish, but I shall not release you from our bond of marriage." He then released his hold of the chalice.

"I could never dream a man as wonderful as you, Hunter
,
but I do not want a dream. I want the reality. I want you to want me." She patted her chest, indicating her heart. "The real me, not a dream. And the only way for this to happen is for me to open my heart to you as you have opened yours to me. To trust you with my secret as you have trusted me with yours. And to be forgiven as I have forgiven you."

DÉTRA had a secret! Only one with memories could have secrets. Had she recovered her memories?