A Knight of Honor (25 page)

He was far ahead of her, but as she reached the top of the stairs she saw him enter one of the rooms down the hallway.
 
She raced to the room in pursuit, only to come to an abrupt halt at what she saw inside.
 
Slane was embracing the woman who lay in the bed, rocking her slightly, kissing her lips gently, murmuring her name over and over.
 
“Elizabeth.
 
Elizabeth.
 
Elizabeth.”

Taylor’s throat closed tightly and she had to choke down a swallow.
 
Her eyes darkened with pain before she turned and left the room.

Taylor walked down the hall, keeping her back straight even though she felt like collapsing into sobs.
 
She was not a weak person.
 
She would never give in to those feelings.

Maybe Elizabeth was a sister, a cousin, some sort of relative.
 
But Taylor knew she wasn’t.

She moved through the unfamiliar castle like a specter.
 
The image of Slane holding that woman, that Elizabeth, haunted her every step.
 
She felt lost, abandoned.

Finally, she wandered into the Great Hall.
 
It was empty and its vastness only seemed to enhance the loneliness she felt.
 
She moved as far away from the doors as possible, searching for a place that would move her away from him, a place that would take her away from the confused and hurt feelings that were swirling through her.
 
She turned to look at the large double doors she had just entered, somehow thinking Slane would materialize there and explain what was happening.
 
But the doorway remained empty.

Taylor bumped into the wall and she came to an abrupt halt.
 
What was she doing?
 
She had never needed anyone.
 
And she didn’t need Slane.
 
But what was she to do now?
 
She had no coin.
 
She had no food.
 
She realized with a start that she had put her complete trust in Slane.

Desolation swept through her, and she slid down the cold stone wall and buried her head between her arms.
 
She had never felt so lost.
 

Then she heard footsteps.
 
She lifted her head so she could peer over her arms, half expecting to see Slane moving toward her.
 
Disappointment stung her heart as she watched from beneath a wooden table as a peasant’s woolen skirt swished toward her from a rear door.
 
The table hid the rest of the woman from her view.

Behind the first woman trailed another woman, her green woolen skirt a bit shorter than the other’s.
 
“When did he return?
 
Lord Slane was supposed ta be out lookin’ for that girl,” one of the women said.

Taylor stiffened, holding her breath.

“Just minutes ago,” an older voice answered.
 
“And thank the Lord, he come none too soon.”

“Lady Elizabeth was cryin’ out for him just last night.
 
I’m prayin’ she lives.”

Taylor’s heart jumped.
 
Did the woman just say Elizabeth was crying out for Slane?

“She’ll be fine now that lord Slane is here,” the older voice reassured.
 
“He’ll take care of her -- you’ll see.
 
Put this cup there.”

“But if it’s the plague –”

“Hold your tongue, girl,” the older woman snapped.
 
“I’ll not have any talk like that.
 
Lady Elizabeth don’t have the plague.
 
Besides, things will be better now, I’m sure.
 
Lord Slane will want to be getting’ on with their plans.”

“But no one will come near this cursed town.”

“I don’t think they’ll be worrying about wedding guests.
 
After all, they’ve waited a year now!”

Wedding?
 
Taylor’s mind refused to acknowledge the word, refused to acknowledge what the voices were saying.

“I guess you’re right.
 
If lady Elizabeth survives...”

“Of course she will.
 
How many times do I have to tell you...”

Taylor watched the women move out of the Great Hall.
 
She fought back the urge to race after them and shake them and demand an explanation.
 
Instead, she sat stock-still for a long moment, unable to move, not wanting to think.
 
But the thoughts came anyway.

Wedding.
 
There was to be a wedding.

Taylor rose on shaking legs.
 
If she concentrated on taking one step at a time, the realization wouldn’t come.
 
She wouldn’t have to think about it.
 
About how Slane had kept the truth from her.

That Elizabeth was his betrothed!

Taylor walked the castle, desperately trying to clear her mind.
 
But the image that kept resurfacing was Slane embracing and kissing his betrothed.
 
She felt a wretchedness of mind she’d never known before.
 
Even the thought of downing a few quick ales left a sour taste in her mouth.
 
It’s my own fault, she thought over and over.
 
I let him get close to me.
 
And now she was stuck in a town ravaged by this dread disease with no coin, no food, and no friends.

She fought back the sudden tears that came to her eyes, angry with herself for letting a noble come very close to destroying her.
 
She had to get away from him before he tricked her again with his damned charm, his warm words and gentle looks.

Just like the faceless, formless knight of her nightmares had destroyed her mother.

She quickly pushed the thought away and concentrated on trying to figure out a way to leave.
 
She turned a corner of the hallway and came upon a group of four men drinking ale and playing dice.

A grin lit her face as she watched the dice tumble end over end on the stone floor.

***

An hour quickly passed, then another.
 
Soon Taylor had a good pile of coin before her and an ale in her hand that didn’t taste sour at all.
 
She snatched up the dice and shook the small cubes vigorously in her hand, then flung them to the ground.

There was a moment of silence as the dice spun; then came a roar of disbelief that brought a warm smile to Taylor’s face.
 
She bent to collect the coin from the floor and add it to her pile.

“You’re luckier than a wart on the king’s hand!” one of the men across from her hollered.

“Let ‘em fly again, boys,” Taylor encouraged with a disarming smile.
 
“My luck has to run out sometime.”

The man sitting beside her laughed and flipped his long dark hair over his shoulder, then rubbed his hand along the length of her back.

“Unhand her, you filthy wretch!” a voice growled.

Taylor looked up to see a dark shadow moving toward her.
 
She started to rise, but stopped when the form entered the circle of light cast by the flickering torch on the wall.
 
Slane appeared, a snarl twisting his lips.
 
He stepped up to Taylor’s companion and planted a kick straight into his chest, knocking the man soundly to the ground.

Taylor gave Slane a look of disbelief, then scrambled over to her companion.
 
“Are you all right?” she asked.

The man nodded and boosted himself up onto his elbows.
 
“Lord Slane!
 
A thousand pardons...”
 
He glanced from Slane’s dark visage to Taylor.
 
“I didn’t know.”

The other three men had risen to their feet upon recognizing Slane.
 
Now they appeared nervous, shifting their weight as if to flee.

“If you men will excuse us, the lady and I have business to discuss,” Slane said, his tone heavy and threatening.
 
“Gather up your coin and dice and go.”

The men quickly obeyed, casting curious glances at Taylor as they departed.

The man with the black hair hesitated long enough to ask Taylor, “Should I still wait?”

She nodded and he disappeared around a corner.
 
She turned away from Slane and began scooping up her winnings, which were quite impressive.

“I see you’ve made yourself quite comfortable here already,” Slane commented, the displeasure dripping thickly from his voice.

“I need the coin for food and the man for escort.
 
You see, even though I am a mercenary, the roads are still dangerous for a woman.
 
Especially at night,” she said, sitting back on her heels to tie the sack of coins closed.

Slane slapped the sack with the back of his hand, sending it flying to the stone floor, its contents spilling out and rolling in all directions.
 
“You have no need of coin,” Slane told her firmly.
 
He grabbed her hand and pulled her gently to her feet, but his voice was not so gentle as he added, “And you certainly have no need of an escort.
 
If that man touches you again, I will break his fingers.”

“You don’t own me, you don’t know me, and you can’t command me.”
 
She forced herself to be calm.
 
“You’re betrothed, Donovan.
 
And it’s not to me.
 
I’d be more worried about myself if I were you.”

“Can you jump into bed with a stranger so easily?” Slane demanded.

She turned and bent to pick up her coins and put them into the pouch.
 
“What do you care?
 
I do what I have to do to survive.”

Slane tightened his hand into a fist.
 
“If I didn’t care, would I be standing here now?”

She sat on her buttocks and looked up at him.
 
A portion of her hair fell before her eyes.
 
“I don’t know what you want.”
 
She shook her head quietly, sadly.
 
“I must say you had me fooled.
 
I thought I understood you.
 
And then…”
 
She jerked her quivering chin at the ceiling.
 
“Her.”
 
She quickly looked away, down at the bag in her lap.
 
With shaking hands, she tried to tie the string, but couldn’t quite manage it.
 
Finally, she stopped and clenched her fists in her lap, trying to bring their trembling under control.

“Elizabeth is not the problem here,” Slane commented flatly.
 
“I gave my word I would return you.”

She looked at him as if he had struck her.
 
“You bastard,” she whispered, the years of control Jared had taught her crumbling into nothingness before his cold manipulations.
 
She rose to her feet, anger, fear, agony all warring inside of her.
 
“Then that’s one word you’ll have to break!”
 
She whirled to flee, her throat closing rapidly with the onset of unwanted tears.
 
She would not show him how much he had hurt her.
 
She would never let him see her tears!

Slane grabbed her arm and spun her back around to face him.
 
“My word is my sacred bond.
 
The oath I made to my brother will not be broken.
 
I swear on my grave it will not.
 
If I have to post four guards to watch your every move twenty-four hours a day, then so be it.
 
It will be done, Taylor.
 
It will be done.”