A Knight of Honor (44 page)

“I never had any plans to release her,” Richard answered.
 
“You knew that.”

Slane’s jaw tightened.
 
He was a fool for bringing Taylor here.
 
What could he have possibly been thinking?
 
But he knew what he was thinking.
 
He had thought to pay the debt he owed to his brother so he could get on with his life.
 
He now realized just how wrong he was.

“Ahh,” Richard said, his face lighting with a grin.
 
“All this talk of marriage has you missing your own beloved.
 
Well, I’ve kept you from her for far too long.
 
She is probably waiting for you in the Great Hall.”

Slane threw the door open, his thoughts not on Elizabeth at all.
 
He had to see Taylor.
 
He had to make sure she was all right

“Why don’t you dine with me and my betrothed,” Richard suggested.

Betrothed.
 
Slane froze, stiffening at the way Richard said the word.
 
As if Taylor were some sort of possession.

Richard brushed past Slane without looking at him.

Slane hesitated for only a moment.
 
He didn’t like the way Richard was commanding him.
 
He didn’t like the sly look in his brother’s eyes.
 
He was up to something.
 
But Slane knew he had no choice but to play Richard’s game.
 
He was lord of the castle and his word was law -- a law that Slane had taken a vow to uphold despite his current misgivings.

***

Despite Anna’s pleading, Taylor had chosen to remain in her leggings and tunic.
 
Now she ignored the stares of the guards and the curious looks of the peasants as she sat in the Great Hall.
 
She lifted the cup of ale that had been set before her and drained it.

She looked around the room.
 
All the peasants were reveling, eating their fill.
 
The guards lounged in chairs, squeezing the maids’ bottoms as they scurried by to fill empty mugs with ale.
 
A juggler performed in the middle of the room, tossing bags of beans round and round in his hands.
 
Dogs barked in excitement, running from table to table to pick up the fallen scraps of food from the floor.

From Taylor’s view at the head table, the Great Hall looked to be ordered chaos.
 
She couldn’t help but think this was all wrong.
 
She shouldn’t be here.
 
This was some sort of mistake.
 
Her gaze scanned the hall, continually moving to the large wooden double doors at the rear, where she awaited the one person she trusted to explain what was going on.

Slane had said he would return.
 
The thought had no sooner crossed her mind than two men strolled in through the double doors.
 
Taylor’s heart skipped a beat, even as trepidation gnawed at the edges of her consciousness.
 
Forcing herself to be calm, she leaned back in the chair.

Wife.
 
The dark, ugly word crept into her thoughts again.
 
Wife.
 
Why hadn’t Slane told her?
 
Surely, he didn’t know, or he would never have brought her to Castle Donovan.
 
Not after what they shared.

As Slane and Richard approached, Taylor couldn’t help but notice the strong gait, the charisma, the pure power with which Slane entered the room.
 
He was stunning to watch, easily the most handsome man in the room.

She failed to notice the dark scowl that crossed Richard’s brow as he approached.

Slane’s gaze locked with hers.
 
There was something in his eyes that sent a vibration through her body, sent hope soaring within her heart.

As they rounded the table, Taylor stood to greet Slane.
 
The smile that filled her soul reached her lips in a grin.
 
She suddenly knew that everything would be all right.

But then Richard stepped in front of Slane.
 
His blow struck her across the cheek and sent her reeling back onto her chair, the force of it knocking her and the chair to the ground.

“Taylor!” Slane said and leapt over the chair to kneel at her side.
 
He helped her to a sitting position.
 
“Are you all right?”

She nodded and the movement drew his gaze to her neck, where Richard’s handprints had now turned to dark purple bruises.
 
She watched Slane’s eyes widen with disbelief and then fury.
 
When he lifted his gaze from the bruises to her eyes, pain and guilt dulled his usually startling blue eyes.
 
His jaw tightened and his fists clenched as he rose slowly to face his brother.
 
“Damn you, Richard.”

Taylor’s cheek stung, but it was nothing compared to the unease that spread through her.
 
She reached out to stop him.
 
“It’s all right,” she said.

But Slane didn’t hear her.

Richard’s face was a mask of disgust.
 
His eyes locked on Taylor in a disapproving scowl.
 
“I told you to change out of those men’s clothes,” he warned.
 
“I am lord here.
 
You will learn to obey me.
 
Or face the repercussions.”

Slane’s fist tightened convulsively and he drew his arm back.
 
Taylor was on her feet instantly.
 
She leapt at his arm, catching his elbow, preventing him from fulfilling his swing.
 
“No, Slane,” she urged.
 
“I’m not worth it.
 
Think about what you’re doing.”
 
Still, he battled with her, trying to shake free of her grip.
 
“How can I leave if you’re locked up?” she whispered.

Slowly, Slane stopped his struggle and lowered his arm.

Taylor felt a sigh fill her body.
 
She felt Richard’s gaze shift from her to Slane and back again.
 
She saw disbelief widen his eyes.
 
A grin notched her lips.
 
“I don’t take well to authority,” she explained, releasing Slane.
 
“Maybe someone had better explain that to you.”

Richard’s jaw tightened and he stepped forward, raising his fist.

Taylor stood unflinching, knowing that Slane would intercept Richard if he attacked.
 
And he did.
 
He caught Richard’s hand in his downward arc.

“No woman speaks to me thus,” Richard snarled, “especially not my future wife!”

“Then perhaps she’s not right for you,” Slane hissed, pushing his brother away from Taylor.

Taylor felt her hope die.
 
There was no surprise in Slane’s voice, no shock on his face.
 
He had known!
 
He had known all along Richard intended to marry her.

“Regardless of whether she’s right for me, I will marry her.
 
And she will learn her place,” Richard said harshly.

A sinking feeling in the pit of Taylor’s stomach pulled her down into an abyss of despair.

“You would be wise to learn your place, too,” Richard snarled at Slane and whirled, storming off through the Great Hall.

The room had gone quiet.
 
Now, as Richard passed, mumbling started low and then grew.

Slane lifted a finger to Taylor’s neck and ran it along the length of the bruises.
 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Taylor opened her mouth to ask the truth of him.
 
All she needed was an explanation.
 
A reason for his silence.
 
Why hadn’t he told her?

“Darling!”

Taylor and Slane turned.
 
As Taylor saw Elizabeth approaching, a gnawing dread filled her, a feeling worse than when Richard had vowed to marry her.
 
Suddenly, she couldn’t face Slane.
 
She couldn’t look up at him and see the joy in his eyes at seeing Elizabeth.
 
She didn’t want to see his disloyalty.

Elizabeth threw her arms around Slane.
 
“Darling, I’m so glad you’re all right!”

A tightness closed Taylor’s throat and her vision blurred.
 
She had believed with all her heart that Slane would make things right again.
 
She had trusted him.
 
Fool! her mind roared.
 
All this time, he’s done whatever it would take to get you to Castle Donovan... to his brother.

No! her heart cried.
 
It can’t be.
 
He... he kissed me.
 
He touched me.

Her eyes locked with Elizabeth’s over Slane’s shoulder.
 
There was such confidence in Elizabeth’s brown eyes that Taylor felt her hopes being dashed on the stones, cracking into a thousand shards.

She brushed past Slane, moving toward the door.
 
She willed away the tears she felt burning her eyes.
 
How stupid I’ve been! she thought.
 
I know how treacherous nobles are.
 
But Slane...

She remembered the tender way he looked at her, the gentleness of his touch.
 
He had treated her like no one else before.

She banged into a knight and his ale sloshed across his tunic.
 
He turned dark eyes to her, but she didn’t even falter in her hurry to flee the Great Hall.
 
She practically flew through the open wooden doors.
 
But once out of the room, she halted and glanced over her shoulder to see Slane still speaking earnestly with Elizabeth.

Taylor saw the way he held her hand, the earnest way he gazed into her eyes.
 
She whirled away from the heart-wrenching sight.

Taylor rushed to the inner ward.
 
Her teary gaze scanned the morning rush of people.
 
Panic rose up inside her.
 
She felt trapped and imprisoned.
 
She had to get out of there.
 
She had to escape.
 
She took a step forward and then another.

But suddenly, she came to an abrupt halt.
 
What good would it do to run?
 
Richard would send men after her.
 
Perhaps even Slane.
 
No.
 
Slane’s debt was paid, Richard had said.
 
He was free of Richard... and of her.
 
But the men would come.
 
The Corydons.
 
The Magnuses.
 
The nameless, faceless mercenaries of her nightmares.
 
She would never know a moment’s peace.
 
She would always be looking over her shoulder.
 
That was no way to live.
 
She was done with that.

Jared would have told her to stand and fight.

Taylor straightened her shoulders, angrily wiping at the tears that wet the corners of her eyes.
 
I’m not running any longer.
 
Richard is the cause of my plight.
 
And he will be the end of it.

With a new resolve, she turned and headed back into the castle in search of Slane’s brother.