Bound to a Warrior (22 page)

M
ercy settled in a small room on the third floor after the tour of the keep was cut short. She had tried to show interest, but Mara, being as astute as she was, suggested that perhaps the tour was better left for another day. She had then brought Mercy to this pleasant room. Two wood chairs faced the hearth that kept the room toasty warm and a large chest sat between them, several candles sitting atop. A basket of embroidery sat to the side of one chair and Mara had explained that this was where she snuck off to on occasion.

It was her place of solitude, a place where she simply could be and not let anything disturb her.

Mercy appreciated the time alone. She truly needed to think. She needed to find an answer to her dilemma, though if she were honest with herself she would realize that there was only one conceivable answer.

She would have no choice but to trade herself for Bailey's wife.

She would have never believed herself capable of such
decisive action. Things had always been determined for her. It was the way of things, meant, she supposed, to protect her. But since sharing this unexpected journey with Duncan, she realized she had grown strong and somewhat self-sufficient.

Duncan had given her that and more, and while she would have much preferred to remain here in the safety of his arms, she couldn't.

And it wasn't only Bailey's wife who concerned her. It was Duncan's family as well. She feared for their safety no matter how Duncan and his brothers tried to reassure her. She might not know her father all that well, but she knew enough to know that while he had shown her kindness, he had also shown his wrath. There was no trusting the man.

And with his sovereignty threatened, he would certainly do whatever was necessary to retain his power.

Briefly, very briefly she considered telling Duncan about Bailey and letting him help her sort it out. But on closer consideration she knew that in the end, if there was no other choice, he would not allow her to be traded for Bailey's wife. And she would never be able to live with the fact that her father had killed a woman simply because his daughter had refused to return to him.

Besides, what future did she truly have with Duncan? She certainly could dream of one, but that was all it would ever be—a dream.

He had a mission, and her fate had been decided the day she had been born the bastard daughter of the king.

And like her father she was no fool. She would find Bailey and give him a message to give the soldiers. If they wanted her to return with them, they would have to bring his wife to the meeting place. There the exchange would be made, otherwise there would be no exchange.

The one last thing she would do was to ask Bailey to deliver a message to Duncan. She wanted him to know why she had made the decision she did and that she loved him and always would.

Tears pooled in her eyes and she laughed as she wiped them away before they could fall. Her mother had been right about love. It brought tears, pain and suffering, but she would not have given up knowing and loving Duncan for anything. She would suffer it all again, without hesitation.

She rested her head back against the chair and allowed her eyes to drift close. She wanted a few moments of quiet and peace before she went to find Bailey and meet her fate.

 

When he was finally finished in the solar, Duncan went in search of Mercy. The sudden look of worry that had flashed across her face at breakfast had haunted him the whole time he had been talking with his brothers and father. Something had suddenly troubled her, where only before she had been smiling. He wanted to know what had intruded on her thoughts, robbing her not only of her smile, but her peace of mind.

He covered a good portion of the keep and couldn't find her, so he looked for his mother.

He found her in the kitchen talking with Etty, or rather arguing. The two could never agree on anything, and if truth be told, he knew his father much preferred that she leave Etty alone as did he and his brothers.

Etty was the god of food to them and you didn't mess with a god.

“I'll be making what I've planned and that's that,” Etty said as he approached.

“But Carmag mentioned to me how much he likes roasted boar—”

“And he'll be getting it soon enough, but not today,” Etty declared, kneading the dough with white-hard knuckles.

“I want it cooked today,” Mara said.

“And I want it to taste its best and that won't be until tomorrow.”

“Well, place the meat closer to the flames,” Mara demanded.

That was all Duncan needed to hear. He wasn't about to suffer through charred meat, which happened when his mother decided to cook herself. Something he, his brothers and father had no desire to experience ever again.

“Mum, I need your help,” he said, walking over to her and slipping his arm around her shoulder.

She smiled at him and he easily guided her out of
the kitchen. And from the huge smile and nod Etty sent him, he knew he'd be well rewarded.

“What is it you need, love?” she asked.

“I can't find Mercy.”

“Did you look in my resting room? That's where I left her.”

Duncan furrowed his brow. He wouldn't even think of treading on such hallowed ground.

His startled expression had her laughing and she said, “Come with me and we'll see if she's still there.”

He walked alongside her through the great hall. “Did Mercy enjoy the tour?”

“We never finished it,” Mara said. “There seemed to be something on her mind, but then with all that has happened to her in a relatively short time, it's no wonder she's preoccupied. It certainly can't be easy for her.”

“She has me,” Duncan said.

Mara stopped before starting up the stairs and placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Of course she does, but think about it, Duncan. She loses her mother, her father, the ruling king, wants her dead and where does she end up? In the heart of the true king's troops. Who then does she truly trust?”

“Me!” he said with an adamant pound to his chest. “I love her and she knows it.”

Mara's constant smile faded and it startled Duncan to the point where he felt a chill run through him. Never had he seen his mother without a smile. Angry or not, she wore her smile, as she insisted it helped keep her sane.

“Love sometimes isn't always enough for some,” she said.

“It is for Mercy and me. Our love will see us through this,” he insisted.

Her smile returned and chased away his fearful chill. “I'm sure it will.”

He was certain of it and would let no one tell him any differently. Their love was strong and would survive any and all obstacles. Hadn't it already? And it would continue to do so, no matter what the turmoil. It was that strong and he that certain.

Duncan followed Mara into her private sanctum, pleased that she favored Mercy enough to share her private retreat with her.

“She's sleeping,” Mara whispered as she peered around the chair. “This room can do that to you; take away your worries if only for a time.”

Mara gave Duncan's arm a gentle pat. “Take your time.”

“I can stay here?” he asked teasingly.

“Not if you sass me,” she quipped and playfully slapped his arm before leaving.

Duncan crouched down in front of the chair and stared at Mercy. She looked so content and he was glad that she could escape her concerns for awhile. He couldn't say he wasn't worried himself. Though his family agreed that Mercy shouldn't be returned to her father, he knew if her presence here ever threatened the mission that there was a chance she would have to leave. Not return
to her father, but seek asylum elsewhere until the true king took the throne.

He didn't want that. He wanted Mercy where he could protect her and keep her safe, but he also knew that might not always be possible. That was one reason he taught her how to use a dagger. She had been right when she had suggested that there might not always be someone there to protect her. He felt better knowing that at least she had a minimum of skill.

He reached out and gently took a strand of her long black hair between his fingers. He loved the feel of it, so soft and silky, just like her skin. He let it fall back to rest on her chest and he continued to drink in her beauty.

She stirred then and he hoped she would wake, though his thoughts were no longer on talking with her, but rather making love. Damn, but he couldn't resist her. He was already growing hard when he was around her and that wouldn't do. He needed to talk with her, needed to know what troubled her…needed to kiss her.

He was in trouble, big trouble, since there was no way he could make love to her here in his mother's private sanctuary.

It didn't take him long to make a decision. He eased her into his arms without waking her, her head falling to rest on his chest and her body cuddling against him. Even in sleep she seemed to know he held her.

It didn't take him long to get her to his bedchamber and as he placed her on the bed, he couldn't stop himself from kissing her or touching her. His hand slipped beneath
her blouse. Her skin was warm and so very soft. His hand gently explored her plump breast, repeatedly teasing her nipple with his fingers until it grew stiff. He eased her blouse up, his mouth hungry for her hard nipple when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

Duncan jumped and Mercy's eyes sprang open.

“Duncan,” Reeve called out.

He lowered her blouse covering her up and whispered, “I was attempting to make your dreams come true.”

She smiled. “You always make my dreams come true.”

The second pounding shook the door before it sprang open.

Reeve barged in, not looking at all contrite. “You're needed now!”

Duncan sprang out of bed and sent Mercy an apologetic glance.

“I'll see you later,” she said and waved him off.

Duncan raced down the stairs behind Reeve.

“The mission comes first,” Reeve reminded.

“I know that.”

“Lately, it doesn't appear that way.”

Duncan didn't need a lecture. He knew Reeve was right, but he also knew how he felt about Mercy.

“I love Mercy and I intend to make her my wife.”

Duncan pulled back to avoid colliding with Reeve, he stopped so abruptly.

“The mission comes first,” Reeve reminded again.

“You don't need to keep reminding me.”

“Don't I?” Reeve asked. “There's no time for love right now.”

Duncan shook his head. “I didn't plan on falling in love.”

“Then put it on hold until the king takes the throne.”

“I can't put love on hold, but I will not see the mission suffer for it,” Duncan said.

“Your word on that?”

“We all gave our word, I need not give it again,” Duncan said. “My word is my honor and you should know that.”

“Just making sure,” Reeve said.

“Enough about me, why the rush?”

“The messenger has returned.”

“So soon?” Duncan said. “It must be important.”

The two men bolted down the stairs, grabbed cloaks from the pegs by the door and ran out of the keep into the storm.

 

Trey, Bryce and his father were waiting along with Neil in the stables when Duncan and Reeve arrived.

The wiry little man sighed with relief and delivered his news in a rush. “The king
knows
that his daughter has vital information pertaining to the true king, which is why he wants her kept alive.”

“How does he know for sure?” Trey asked.

“Evidence was found at the cottage,” Neil confirmed.

“What evidence?” Duncan asked.

“I don't know for sure, though I heard mention of a burnt piece of cloth or hide and a servant who shared something she saw,” Neil said.

“What about this hide?” Bryce asked. “What importance does it hold?”

“No one knows for sure,” Neil answered.

“But there must be speculation,” Duncan said. “People must be talking. It is the way of things around the king. People talk. What are they saying?”

Neil shrugged. “It's only gossip.”

“Then let us hear it,” Bryce said.

Neil lowered his voice. “It is said that it holds a secret.”

“What secret?” Duncan asked.

Neil leaned in closer. “The secret of his birth. The proof that makes him the true king.” He shook his head. “But it is only gossip.”

“Tell me what happens to the king's daughter if she should return and he finds out what she knows. What becomes of her then?” Duncan asked.

Again Neil shrugged.

“Speculate,” Duncan suggested quite firmly.

Neil lowered his head along with his voice. “She dies.”

W
ith a hooded, heavy wool cloak to protect her from the rain, Mercy hurried through the village searching for Bailey. She didn't know how much time she had before Duncan returned and she wanted this done. It wasn't that she worried that she would change her mind. She had made her decision and knew it was the right one, especially after hearing the conversation between Duncan and his brother Reeve.

She had gone to find him shortly after he had left the bedchamber. She had wanted to tell him that she'd be waiting in the great hall for him. She hadn't wanted him to search for her and discover her meeting with Bailey. She had heard Reeve accuse him of not tending to the mission because of her and she felt responsible for causing dissent between the brothers and for having been the cause of Duncan neglecting his duty.

It seemed that no matter where she went her presence presented a problem. She wished there was somewhere
she could sneak away to and be safe. The thought struck her so fast that she halted in her tracks.

She would have never even considered the possibility that popped into her head, if she hadn't gained the courage from surviving her ordeal. She had been in the hands of soldiers who intended her dead and had escaped. And if she did it once she could do it again. As long as she knew that Bailey and Kate were safe with Duncan and his family, then there was no reason for her to return to her father. She didn't believe that her father wanted her returned alive because he wished to make amends. He wanted something from her and once he had it, she would meet the same fate as her mother.

Her biggest obstacle was where to seek safe shelter and not bring harm to anyone. And the answer came easily and felt so very right. She would go to Bliss. After all, the woman had told her that they would see each other again, so she would be expecting her return, though perhaps sooner than she had anticipated.

Mercy grew more excited. If she could accomplish this, then someday there might be a chance for Duncan and her. But for now her absence would give him the time he needed to concentrate on his mission and prevent anyone from being harmed.

She felt relieved, for fate no longer had hold over her. She had taken control and would forge a new path of destiny for herself. She felt proud. Never had she thought she would have the courage to take control of her life, seek her own direction and make her own decisions. It
felt so very good and so very right, and she doubted she would ever want it any differently.

She spotted Bailey huddled against the corner of a cottage, it and a hoodless cloak his only defense against the harsh wind and rain. She sent him a nod, letting him know it was time for them to talk. He drifted off into the woods and she followed. Thanks to the inclement weather no one was about, so she wasn't worried that someone would see her entering the woods behind him.

He stood under the spreading branches of a thick oak, the rain finding it hard to make its way through.

Her heart went out to Bailey when she got close enough to see how the worry had etched its way into his face in such a short time. She didn't waste a minute in telling him of her plan.

“I will trade myself for your wife, but only if you do as I say.”

“As long as I get Kate back safe, I will do anything, even if it means forfeiting my life,” Bailey said.

“Your death would defeat the purpose,” Mercy said firmly. “What we need to do is to keep our wits and see that we all survive.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You must tell the soldiers that I have agreed to return to my father and that we will meet them tomorrow at dawn. And tell them I insist that they have Kate with them to make the exchange.”

“What if they refuse or ask why you hadn't simply agreed when first asked?” Bailey asked anxiously.

“They won't,” she assured them, “especially if you tell them I've been held against my will. If they do refuse to bring her that means—” She didn't finish. She didn't want to think that this all would be for nothing.

Bailey nodded. “You're right. I can't just hand you over to them and trust them to return Kate.”

“There is something else I wish you to do,” she said.

“What is it?”

“I want you to give Duncan a message from me.”

“I will take it directly to him,” Bailey said.

“No, you can't do that,” Mercy said. “Duncan would surely follow with a troop of warriors and now is not time for the true king's troops to battle, especially over me. You will wait until evening. That will give me the time I need.”

“Time for what?”

“To escape.”

“You will return then?” Bailey asked.

Mercy shook her head. “I cannot return. Not now.”

Bailey nodded as if he understood. “Tell me the message. I will repeat it to him exactly as you tell me.”

“It is brief. You will have no trouble recalling it,” Mercy said.

He nodded and Mercy gave him the message.

“There is no more?” Bailey asked.

“Duncan will know,” she said confidently. “But it is better no one else does.”

They parted then, their plan firm for dawn tomorrow.

Mercy made her way back through the pouring rain thinking that tonight would be the last time that she and Duncan made love for awhile. She refused to think that they would never love again. After all, she had taken charge of her destiny and Duncan was her destiny. They would be together someday; she refused to believe otherwise.

She intended to make love with him tonight like never before and then sneak away in the morning and do what she must. Do it for Duncan, for Bailey and Kate, and oddly enough for her mother.

Mercy wanted her father to know that he may have succeeded in killing her mother, but that the woman he had once claimed to love beyond belief had raised her daughter to be strong—and to survive.

She hurried out of the rain into the keep and almost collided with Mara.

“What were you doing out in such horrid weather?”

For a moment Mercy didn't know what to say. The only word she thought to murmur was, “Duncan.”

“You looked for Duncan?” Mara shook her head, snatched her wet cloak off her and ushered her to the hearth. “He's busy with his brothers at the moment. You need to sit and get warm, or God forbid you catch a chill.”

The woman fussed over her like a mother hen and Mercy had to admit that she enjoyed it. Her mother had rarely fussed. She had expected certain things from Mercy from when she was young and like a dutiful child she
had obeyed. But every now and then her mother would be different. She would picnic with her at the river's edge or tell her a story and tuck her into bed. Of course that was when she was very young. As Mercy matured those special moments she had cherished with her mother had dwindled until they completely disappeared.

“I'll fetch us each a tankard of mulled cider and we'll chat,” Mara said after she finished pulling a chair near the hearth and gently pushing Mercy into it, then tucking a soft wool blanket around her.

Mara returned in no time and pulled a chair up alongside hers after handing Mercy two tankards to hold.

Once she sat, Mercy returned one of the tankards to her. “Thank you for this.”

“Nonsense,” Mara said. “I'm pleased beyond belief that one of my sons has finally brought home a woman he loves, especially when I can see that love shining brightly in both their eyes.”

“It's that obvious?” Mercy asked, not a bit sorry that she and Duncan wore their love so openly and so proudly.

“From the first,” Mara said. “I don't believe you could have hidden it if you wanted to.”

“I didn't want to.”

“It is good you feel so sure about your love for my son,” Mara said.

“I have not a speck of doubt that I love Duncan.”

“No matter what?” Mara asked.

Mercy thought her question odd but answered it without hesitation and with more truth than Mara would realize.
“If I should have to leave here tomorrow, my love for Duncan would remain strong in my heart always. And no one or anything could change that.”

“You are strong. You will survive this.”

Mercy wondered if Mara realized that perhaps she was speaking the truth and encouraging her, but that wasn't possible. No one knew of her morning departure, though she wondered if Mara knew more that went on in and around the keep than she let anyone know.

The two women sat in silence for several moments before resuming the conversation.

“Loving someone can be difficult,” Mara said.

“Loving someone is easy,” Reeve said rounding his mother's chair and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Shame on you for sneaking up on us like that, be gone with you now,” Mara scolded, shooing him away. “Besides what do you know about love?”

“All I need to know to stay away from it.” He grinned and hurried off, out of reach of his mother's swatting hand.

“I fear Reeve will have the most difficult time with love since he takes it so lightly,” Mara confessed.

“I never thought much of love,” Mercy admitted.

“Why?”

“My mother raised me to believe it served no true purpose and that in the end it brings nothing but tears and heartache,” Mercy said. “I've often wondered if perhaps my mother had been deeply hurt by love and that was
why she felt the way she did. But I never got the chance to ask her.”

“Love can leave scars,” Mara said.

“That never heal,” Trey said as he walked passed them, though never stopped.

When Trey was out of sight, Mara said, “He loved and lost and has yet to heal.”

“I'm so sorry. How terrible for him,” Mercy said, her stomach quivering from the thought. Leaving Duncan of her own free will was one thing, but having him taken away from her, knowing she would never see him again was something she didn't know if she could live with.

“Time is the only thing that will help him,” Mara said, shaking her head. “Sometimes the wound is too deep to ever heal.”

Mercy wondered if that was what happened to her mother. Had she been wounded so badly by love that it never healed? She wished she had asked her mother about her past when she was alive. Now she would never know.

“Though sometimes love can heal any wound as long as the heart is willing to take another chance,” Mara said.

“You know your sons well,” Mercy said. “Am I what you expected for Duncan?”

Mara shook her head, though smiled. “You are so much more. I knew Duncan would be the first to fall in love. He has known for sometime what he wanted.”

“Which was?” Mercy asked eagerly.

“To fall in love, marry and raise a family. He may have enjoyed the favors of women now and again, and probably be horrified that I said so, but he knew once the right woman appeared he would know and never let her go. It seems his dreams have come true.”

“Mine certainly have,” Mercy admittedly happily.

“I'm the fulfiller of dreams,” Duncan sang out and came up behind Mercy, leaned around and kissed her cheek.

“Mercy's just being nice,” Bryce teased and slapped his brother on the back. “Come, we have more work to do. You can fulfill dreams later.”

Duncan kissed her cheek again and whispered, “Later.”

Mercy smiled and watched the two men laughing and bantering as they left the keep. “What of Bryce? How does he feel about love?”

Mara shook her head. “In some ways he's the easiest of my sons to understand and in other ways he is the most difficult. I can only pray that he will find a woman who understands him.” Her smile grew wider. “But the most important part is that all four of them make certain that they give me lots of grandbabies to spoil.”

Mercy laughed and prayed that she would eventually be part of this loving family. She would miss them all and would be relieved when she finally returned. She had to keep telling herself that she would return. No matter what happened, she had to find her way back here—her way back home.

 

Supper was a delightful affair, but then perhaps it was because this was her last night here and she wanted to enjoy every moment of it. The brothers laughed and teased and Carmag regaled everyone with Scottish tales until finally one by one they began drifting off, Reeve first and then Trey.

Then Bryce turned to Duncan and said, “I thought you were the fulfiller of dreams.”

“You knew what I was thinking,” Duncan said and took Mercy's hand and bid everyone good-night.

She giggled when he scooped her up in his arms and carted her up the stairs. Her heart swelled with love and sadness. She looked forward to this night with Duncan, but knowing she was leaving afterward made it bittersweet.

Once inside their bedchamber he fell down on the bed with her, smothering her face with kisses. She laughed, though it faded to sighs when he began kissing her in earnest.

The sighs soon turned to moans as his hands explored beneath her skirt with such erotic tenderness that she thought she would climax. But his hand slipped away before she did.

“No,” she whispered in his ear. “That felt so good.”

He kissed her quick. “I'm about to make it feel even better.”

He sat up and shed his shirt, and before he shed his plaid, his hand once again dipped beneath her skirt and
favored her with gentle strokes that ignited her already burning passion.

“I like that you melt to my touch so easily.”

“How can I not when it is such a loving touch,” she said. “Now hurry and please me so that I may do the same for you.”

He worked fast at his plaid. “And then—” He grinned. “We'll start all over again and I will ride you slow and easy until you cannot stand it a moment longer.”

“I already cannot stand it.” She laughed softly. “You must hurry.”

The solid rap at the door sounded just before Duncan was about to toss his plaid aside.