Chasing Shadows (34 page)

Dropping the guise, he sloshed over to her. “Who else knows?” She grinned, lording it over him. He leaned down and enunciated each word. “Who. Else. Knows?”

A delicate brow arched in defiance.

“Who did you
tell,
Jade?”

“I’m not the one you should concern yourself with!” she snapped. Blinking, she seemed to realize how harsh her tone had been, and her expression turned suddenly sad. She retreated a few steps. “You foolishly trusted her with your secret, but
I
won’t tell a soul, William, if that’s what concerns you—I promise. I shall remain silent if you just answer one question.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, wondering how she knew about Sarah’s awareness of his secret. Jade was still backing towards the falls, and his eyes widened as he realized her intent. “Jade stop!”

She did. Tilting her head to the side, she watched him intently from the knee-deep water. The cold didn’t seem to affect her. “Why not me? Just answer me that. She doesn’t deserve you, you know,” she added quietly.

Will took a few tentative steps toward her, eyes darting to the frothing water that spilled over the falls. She would never survive that drop. “Come back from the edge and I’ll discuss this with you.”

“And that shall garner your attention?” Shaking her head, Jade stepped onto a large rock that jetted out over the edge of the water. She didn’t possess the nerve, did she? Will swallowed.

“You never wanted me,” she went on. “I see now that deceiving that girl could never bring you into my arms.” Her face looked tormented. “Just say my name. My
real
name—the name you gave me when we were children, when I wished to forget my past.”

Will was suddenly aware of how deep her obsession for him went and searched his mind for a solution to get the both of them out of this alive. He took a few more steps, having to pick up his knees as the water deepened. He kept his eyes focused on hers as he sloshed along, and his thighs went numb. “Don’t do this. Please.”

A lone tear spilled down her cheek. “Why not? I spend my life being used and controlled by men and receive nothing in return. What do I have here but emptiness and loss—of my home, my parents, of your affection?”

Seeing she refused to be talked down, Will suddenly raised the bow in a last ditch effort. “Get down from there or I’ll shoot.” He realized that it was foolish to threaten to kill someone on the brink of suicide, but it was all he could think of.

“You won’t shoot me.” She seemed so certain of it, and he knew it was true; he couldn’t do it.

He tossed the bow down, and it swirled in the frothing water and then dropped over the falls. He kept his eyes focused on Jade as he advanced cautiously, trying not to startle her as he rose up on the rock before her. The sun had set, and it was difficult to make out her features in the pale moonlight. “You’re right. I can’t shoot you.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle, startling him. Jade sighed, pressing her body hard against his own, as though he would evaporate if she lessened her hold. “It feels so good to be in your arms.” She paused, arms freezing. “But I can never really have you, can I?”

Will hesitated, barely returning her embrace. He knew he couldn’t lie to her, even under such dire circumstances. “I’m sorry, no. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my life. You deserve more than this.”

She released him, and he caught a flash of teeth as she smiled sadly. “Thank you for that. I will always love you, William, and your secret is safe with me.” Something in her eyes shifted, and his own widened in alarm as he realized she was done speaking. Then she took a step back, and her body tumbled over the falls.

“Marian!” he cried thoughtlessly, lunging for her. His breath was forced from his lungs as he landed on the rock, hard, but he managed to grab ahold of her slick wrist before he lost her completely.

Will grunted, struggling to hang on as the falls pulled at her from below. “Hang on,” he yelled, reaching down with his other hand. His stomach slipped over the rock, and he caught sight of her face. She looked vaguely frightened, yet her mind seemed intent on something other than their plight.

“Say my name again,” she cried.

He ground his teeth, trying to get a better grip on her. His chest slowly inched over the edge of the slick rock, further over the churning water far below.

“Say it!” Jade screamed desperately when he remained silent. She seemed more concerned in hearing him affirm her existence than she was in helping him pull her to safety.

Muscles straining, he managed through clenched teeth, “Don’t let go, Marian!” The words were lost in the roar of the water, but she smiled anyway, knowing he had said what she wanted to hear. Will felt her hand relax, no longer returning his hold.

He arched his back as he struggled to hold on, trying to turn his body to take some of the strain off his arms, but his sudden weight shift caused his body to jerk across the wet surface of the rock. Eyes widening, his free hand searched frantically for some handhold as Jade’s weight pulled him over the edge.

His hand slipped over an exposed tree root, and he made a desperate grab for it. Their bodies jerked to a stop as he closed his fingers around the end of the root, and their weight nearly yanked it from the sodden earth. Groaning in pain, he tightened his hold around Jade’s wrist. He knew that there was no air in the spray of the falls where her body dangled, but he couldn’t let her go.

“Hold on!” he yelled. But she had already gone limp.
Just hold on
, he told himself, closing his lids tightly as he focused on doing just that. His fingers had gone numb, and they loosened against his will, slipping from around the exposed root. He closed his eyes and his last thought as they both fell toward the rocks at the base of Glenborough Falls was that he would get his wish: He would die attempting to save someone.

~Chapter 30~

Tapping her foot anxiously, Sarah stared off into the darkening forest. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, stomach knotting anxiously. But the sun had set, and there was still no sign of Will. He had said he would come, whatever news he had for her, but maybe he had changed his mind.

Sarah shivered as a cold mist from the brook blew her way, soaking through the cloak and chilling her to the bone. She’d been waiting for what must have been close to an hour, and she was starving and half-frozen. The time spent waiting had allowed her to think—and overthink—and when Will had neglected to make an appearance, she had felt conflicting emotions. She was partly disappointed that he wasn’t willing to do something like this for her, but that displeasure felt more like relief the longer she stood there.

Had she been out of her
mind
to propose that they run away together to Locksley? She had never suggested something so rash and felt ashamed for even thinking up such a ridiculous plan. Crazy girls ran away with boys they hardly knew,
not
Sarah—good ol’, logical Sarah. If Janice could see her now, acting as brazen as she, Sarah was sure she’d grab a bowl of popcorn to munch on while she watched the drama unfold.

With time to reflect the longer she spent away from the castle, the place where Edith had been murdered, she began to see the reasons for her recklessness with more clarity. And she felt more ridiculous and impulsive because of it. Yes, she had panicked when she’d witnessed Edith’s murder—even now she had to close her eyes when she thought of it—and that panic had only escalated when she considered how she would have to leave Karen and the Joneses for good someday. And when she imagined she might lose Will, the person who had offered her comfort after the tragedy and to whom she had clung in her time of need . . .

From a psychological perspective, it made sense, her holding tightly to the beacon that had helped her through a traumatic experience. But, while understandable, it didn’t excuse the selfishness of her actions.

Her shoulders bowed under the weight of what she had almost done to both their lives. She had felt a little slighted when Will never made an appearance, but she was starting to think that it was for the best: She could never leave her family like this, disappearing with a man they had never met in a different era, with no mention of where she was going—her parents would have an aneurism! Not to mention Lilly. How could she have considered abandoning her young sister for longer than necessary, prolonging her return to go on an adventure? And the entire purpose of her being here was to track down the king’s murderer, something she hadn’t put any effort into recently.

She never should have entertained thoughts of running away to Locksley Village, however brief the trip might have been. As much as she wanted to keep Will in her life, she knew that he could never come back to her world if this place really was based in the past, which was looking more like the truth each day. What if his presence was somehow tied to the future? She would never know whose lives she might be tampering with, all so she could have the best of both worlds without sacrificing anything.

Sending one final, searching glance over the dark forest, Sarah sighed. “Guess I have my answer,” she said aloud. But it was for the best, she reminded herself, pushing aside her disappointment. She still had a chance to make things right.

Ashamed of what she had been about to do, she stiffened her resolve and her spine, making the decision to leave behind any notion of running away with her tail between her legs. Feeling the gentle pull of her conscience, she turned and walked back toward the castle, hoping she wasn’t too late for supper.

****

“I’m sorry I delayed you,” Sarah apologized, trying to level her breathing as Damien closed his bedroom door. She had rushed upstairs, thrown her cloak and sack aside, and with the help of her new maid, changed into a gown that she’d hardly glanced at. She’d hastily run a comb through her tangled locks to smooth out the snarls the wind had whipped her hair into and then rushed to Damien’s room, hoping he hadn’t already left. He was just exiting his room as Sarah hurried down the hall.

Looking relieved to see her, he offered his arm to her, waiting for her to accept the proffered limb before escorting her down the stairs. “I must admit that I was a little concerned when I found your room empty,” he remarked. “I thought you might have gone down without me.”

Sarah curled her half-frozen toes inside her slippers, wanting desperately to soak her chilled limbs in a hot bath. But now that she was thinking clearly, she saw what a perfect opportunity tonight was—one she did not want to miss, though she almost had in her recklessness. She could warm up after supper, Sarah promised herself.

“I went to say goodbye to my friend,” she supplied, careful not to give away too much of Edith’s whereabouts. She didn’t want to get Terrance and the others in trouble after all they had done, though she was fairly certain that Damien would think it as noble as she. “I must have lost track of the time.”

“Is that why you’re so cold?” Damien rubbed his hand over her knuckles to warm them and brought them to his lips, breathing against her fingers. Whispers of air tickled her skin, and she swallowed as some warmth returned to her hands. And, embarrassingly, the rest of her.

Grinning, he commented, “Your color has returned.”

“It’s warm in here,” Sarah responded weakly, dropping her eyes when he placed her hand back on his arm, though he slid his palm over her fingers to keep them warm as they walked. It was thoughtful, but Sarah felt tense as he guided her through a high archway that opened into a wide, well-lit corridor.

Raising her eyes in interest, Sarah noticed that there were several open archways on either side of them that led into dark rooms. But she was far more interested in the padlocked doors that were scattered throughout the passage. 

“Is that the only reason your cheeks are flushed?” Damien asked, feigning innocence even as that roguish grin slid across his lips.

“What’s behind those doors?” She wasn’t intentionally ignoring his question but was more than happy to redirect the conversation to her own curiosity.

“I can’t be sure, really,” he answered, easily going along with the topic change. “Unused rooms, perhaps?”

“That are chained?” she countered doubtfully.

They entered a darkened portion of the corridor where the torchlight was weak. Unable to see his expression, she felt Damien shrug. “I suppose this old place has its share of secrets, though sadly many mysteries remain unsolved.”

“Hmm,” Sarah muttered in displeasure. She was beginning to feel the same way.
But tonight could be a turning point,
she reminded herself. A spark of nervous energy shot through her middle
.

They emerged into the torchlight once more, and she spotted a set of large double doors at the end of the hall manned by a guard on either side. Damien stopped before the armed guards dressed in ornamental clothing.

“Damien Lisandro and guest,” he said to the men.

Sarah wasn’t sure how she felt about being “and guest,” but it wasn’t like these men would recognize her name—Damien had to introduce himself, and he had attended supper several times already.

The guards nodded in unison.

“Are you ready?” She pulled her gaze away from the hulking doors and nodded at Damien mutely. Up until now, Cadius had only been a name to her, a murderous ghost that she had been hunting for weeks. And now she was a stranger about to meet the man who had been able to end his own brother’s life, and possibly more lives than that.

For a brief moment, she wondered if it was best to let sleeping giants lie. But the guards had already reached out to open the doors for them, and she forced herself to take a deep breath as Damien guided her into the lion’s den.

—

Sarah blinked against the light that flooded the enormous dining room. Torches were mounted all along the walls, and standing torches had been brought in to offer the three long, rectangular tables plenty of heat and light. Large wooden chandeliers hung above each table, and the three tiers of candles managed to banish any remaining shadows in the room.

Drawing her gaze across the large dining hall, Sarah tried to take it all in: The clacking of utensils against wooden plates and trays, the dull scraping of tankards being moved around the table, and hushed conversation filling the air with a jumble of sounds.

Only two of the tables were occupied, and sparsely at that—it didn’t seem as though there were too many guests staying at the castle, as of late—but the attendees present were clearly wealthy, judging by the men’s elegant vests and ridiculous puffery and the women’s incredible gowns and disdainful expressions. No one took any notice of Sarah or her companion as the guards closed the door quietly behind them.

“Shall we introduce you?” Damien asked near her ear.

She shot him a quizzical look. “To whom?”

“The royals, of course.” He nudged her into the room with a gentle hand at her back.

Sarah barely managed to restrain herself from running a hand through her hair. Was her dress suitable for such a formal supper? She doubted it, since she had selected it blindly from her wardrobe. She couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering self-consciously around the room, and she caught the curious and occasionally loathing gazes of a few ladies when they finally noticed her, and more specifically, her companion. Apparently, Spaniards were as hot a commodity here as they were back home, and she felt a spark of pride that she was the one on his arm tonight.

Tearing her eyes away from the contemptuous looks she was receiving, Sarah focused her attention at the end of the table, where she knew Damien was leading her. She searched the faces there anxiously, wondering if Cadius would stick out as the evil mastermind she envisioned. They stopped just to the side of the three chairs at the end of the table, and, heart hammering wildly, she followed Damien’s example as he quickly bowed, curtsying as gracefully as she could manage.

“Your grace,” he said to the ground. She hadn’t managed a good look at the prince and was tempted to sneak a peek at the young man they were bowing before. But her companion had yet to rise, and it was a little difficult to subtly get a good look at him from her submissive position. Her knees were beginning to shake nervously as the seconds ticked by, and she nearly let a sigh of relief escape when the prince told them both to rise.

“I was wondering when we might see you again, Lisandro,” he commented, lifting his goblet in greeting before bringing it to his lips for a long drink. The prince set it back on the table, his dark gray eyes turning on her as he rested his hands on the arms of his large, throne-like chair.

Curling hair the same color as the dark wood table framed a young, angular face and straight nose, and he tucked one of the chin-length strands behind his ear, revealing chiseled cheekbones and freckles along the left side of a smooth face. Karen had once mentioned that he was somewhere in his early twenties, but his slight frame and boyish features made him look like a polished youth playing in his father’s clothes. But it was the frown lines between his brows that aged his smooth skin, and the eyes that considered her were a dull, stormy color. Sarah wondered if they had always been so dead or if his father’s recent passing had been the thing to sap the life from them.

Damien took her hand in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “This is Lady Sarah. She has been acting as my nurse for several days.” His voice had turned formal as he addressed the prince, but he smiled sincerely at her, and she felt her toes curl in pleasure at the admiration glittering in his espresso eyes. “But I fear she is grossly overqualified.”

“And how are you faring, Lisandro?” Sarah pulled her eyes from his hypnotic gaze and glanced down at the woman sitting on the prince’s left. Damien immediately took her hand and bowed over it.

“Forgive me, milady, for not acknowledging you sooner,” he amended, eyes suddenly bright with obvious fondness for the woman. “But I am quite well, I thank you.”

The woman, whom Sarah assumed was the queen, smiled and gently urged Damien to his feet. “I am glad of it. Now”—she turned her eyes on Sarah, and her lips softened—“you must introduce me to your lovely companion.”

Damien smiled encouragingly at her, and she took a step towards the queen, feeling completely out of her element. She managed to bend her quivering knees into a curtsy. “My lady,” she said softly, looking up into brown eyes that were the same oval-shape as the prince’s, though they contained more life and warmth than his.

The skin at the corners of Queen Meredith’s eyes crinkled when she gave her a close-lipped smile. “I heard of the way you came to this man’s rescue, child. It was quite remarkable.”

Sarah felt her cheeks heat and dipped her head. She tried to match the queen’s smooth speech. “Thank you. But I really didn’t do much.”

“You must sit with us.” She flicked a delicate hand, and magically the bodies on the bench seat slid down, making space for the two of them.

Sarah blinked and only moved when Damien took her hand and helped her onto the space closest to the queen’s chair. He slid in beside her and, seeming to sense her discomfort, sat close enough that his shoulder brushed hers, reminding her that he was there should she need his support. She shot him an appreciative look before turning her attention back to the petite woman on her right.