Devil's Dominion (37 page)

The sight of her did things to him that he’d never experienced before. It was as if his heart was lighter and his mood was better instantly. Something had changed for him since Newtown – if the woman had been on his mind before, now he could think of nothing else. She was never far from his thoughts no matter where he was and, as such, he found himself becoming fiercely protective of her. Just now, in the great hall when Grayton had brought up the fact that she had gotten away with her terrible behavior on the morning they’d left for Newtown, Bretton had reacted just as he’d reacted before - he punched Grayton in the face and sent the man onto the floor.

No one brought up Allaston after that and Bretton knew it was because his men sensed there was much more than a captor/prisoner relationship between them. Even if it was the case, Bretton wouldn’t elaborate on it and he wouldn’t explain it away. It wasn’t any of their affair, anyway. But he knew the uncertainty was making his men edgy and that edginess was beginning to create a divide. He’d been feeling that divide since before Newtown, but now in the aftermath, it had gotten worse.

It was tension between him and his commanders that was interrupted by the commotion at the gatehouse. It had been enough to divert the attention away from his relationship with Allaston. A messenger had evidently ridden to within a few dozen feet of the gatehouse, dropped an envelope that contained a missive, and had just as swiftly left. The army of the dead did its job to frighten away those who would approach Cloryn. Bretton’s men ran out to grab the envelope and a couple even gave chase to the messenger, but he was astride a very swift horse and able to lose those who were trailing him. Meanwhile, the envelope was delivered to Bretton.

The first thing he saw on the leather envelope was the seal of Hereford and Worcester burned into the animal hide.
De Lohr
, he thought. Curious, he had gone into the keep with Grayton, Teague, and Dallan trailing after him, opening the envelope by the time he entered the keep. By the time he entered the small, open room, he had broken the seal on the parchment and carefully unrolled it. There was a good deal of writing on it and the first thing he looked at was the signature on the bottom. He could make out de Lohr’s signature.

His curiosity grew. He had no idea what message de Lohr would have for him but he soon found out and as he read down the parchment, the veins on his temple began to throb. He was absolutely enraged by what de Lohr had to say, not at all the reaction the earl was going for but one that he had feared. Bretton read the missive four times before turning it over to Grayton, who read it once in its entirety before reading it aloud to Teague and Dallan. As the three commanders discussed the possibilities of de Lohr’s missive, Bretton left the room. He had to, or he was sure to get in another confrontation with his commanders. They were amenable to de Lohr’s suggestions, he was not. He knew the only reason the commanders were agreeable was because the missive involved removing Allaston from Cloryn, which was something he suspected they were increasingly inclined towards. They wanted her out.

So Bretton found himself in the kitchen yard staring at Allaston as she sat and shelled peas. The mere sight of her gave him pause to breathe, to collect himself. He could feel himself calming. As she smiled at him, he returned the gesture and made his way over to her.

“More peas?” he asked. “I swear I have never eaten so many peas in my entire life until I came here. Is that all that grows in the garden?”

Allaston giggled. “Practically,” she said. “Peas, carrots, and a few cabbages. But the peas are my favorite. I like to eat them when they are young and green. They are soft and delicious.”

He nodded, grinning because she was. When she coyly lowered her eyes and turned back to her peas, Bretton’s attention stayed on her a moment longer before he turned away, leaning against the support beam for the kitchen’s roof overhang as he studied the immediate area. He found that he really didn’t have to say anything. Their silences had become comfortable ones, as if they were content simply to be next to one another. All the while, however, his mind was reflecting upon de Lohr’s missive. He was trying to determine just how much to tell her. Normally, he wouldn’t have involved her in his business but because she was mentioned by name in de Lohr’s message, he felt she had a right to know something about it.

“I saw some commotion near the gatehouse earlier,” Allaston said, breaking into his thoughts. “What was happening?”

Bretton, leaning against the support post, folded his enormous arms against his chest. “We had a messenger,” he said casually.

Her head came up and she looked at him curiously. “A messenger?” she asked. “Another message from your cousin?”

Bretton shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. After a brief hesitation, he decided to tell her all of it. He couldn’t come up with a good reason not to. “It was a message from Christopher de Lohr. It would seem that the Earl of Hereford and Worcester has offered to mediate my dispute with your father. He wants to know my terms to return you to your family.”

Allaston set aside the basket of half-shelled peas and stood up. “What are you going to tell him?” she asked. “I do not want to go back, not now.”

Bretton glanced at her. “Why not?” he asked. “You had a mind to escape me once.”

She calmed down a bit, her expression uncertain. “I know,” she said. “But the situation has changed. It is as I told your cousin. If I can deter you from killing my father, then I am more than willing to stay.”

Bretton turned to her, looking at her full-on. “Is that the only reason you stay?” he asked softly. “I told you that my vengeance against your father is my own. You shan’t change my mind.”

Allaston gazed at him, steadily, thinking many things at that moment. He was asking for truth. Perhaps he was even asking her how she felt, as if there was more in her heart than the mere desire to save her father’s life. Their conversation in Newtown had been very deep and very revealing. Perhaps he was asking for more than what she was willing to tell him. Allaston has the distinct feeling that he was demanding to know what was in her heart. Simply by the way he was looking at her, she could tell. She began to feel warm and quivery all over.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked quietly. “Do you want me to tell you that somehow, someway, you have grown on me, too?  I will tell you that if that is what you wish to hear.”

His expression was surprisingly soft. “I only wish to hear it if it is the truth,” he said. “Is that why you wish to stay? Because I have grown on you?”

Allaston wasn’t comfortable speaking on her feelings when it came to a man. As a woman committed to the cloister from a young age, it was something she had never had to face. She felt a bit embarrassed, that was true, but not so embarrassed that she did not want to answer his question. After a moment, she simply shook her head.

“There is more to it,” she said, gazing into his bright blue eyes. “I cannot tell you what more, or how much more, but there is more to it. I want to stay because... because I think you need me somehow. I told you in Newtown that I want to be fond of you but I think I already am.”

His eyes roved her lovely face, devouring her as he had never devoured a woman in his life. All things fine and soft and beautiful were standing before him, things he never knew to exist. He never knew feelings like this to exist, something that took his breath away yet made him strong all in the same moment. It was astonishing.

“You told me that you wanted me to give you a reason to love me,” he murmured. “How can I do that? What can I possibly do to earn that love?”

Allaston was growing giddy with the conversation, feeling an odd liquid warmth spreading between the two of them, enveloping them both. She’s never known anything like it and it was enough to make her feel light-headed. But she didn’t mind in the least.

“I... I am not sure,” she said. She couldn’t help notice that he was moving closer to her. “A man of goodness and mercy would surely earn it. I have asked that you show mercy in your dealings, Bretton, that you spare women and children in your quest to conquer their homes.”

He reached out, timidly, and grasped her by the upper arms. His grip was warm, strong, and reassuring. “I told you that I would try,” he said. “But even if I do, you will not be there to witness such things. How can I do something that you will witness, something that will please you?”

She peered up at him, his touch causing her heart to race. “Does it mean so much to you to earn my love, then?”

“I would not ask if it did not.”

It was a beautiful answer. Allaston gazed up at him, feeling his heat and power enveloping her, thinking it was about the most wonderful thing in the world. The man was a killer, that was true, and by all rights she should not love the man. But she was a woman of religion, and religion taught her to forgive and not to judge. Even though he had done some terrible things, it was truly not her place to judge him. She needed to show him mercy and compassion, too, in the hopes it would bring forth that man, that good man, she knew to be buried deep within him. She opened her mouth to reply but the wind shifted and she caught a whiff of the rotting dead outside the walls. In that stench, she had her answer.

“Bury the dead of Cloryn,” she said softly. “It would be a great act of mercy and compassion, Bretton, something I could see. Something I could be proud of. Would you do this for me?”

Bretton didn’t outright deny her but she could tell that he was unhappy with her request. The hands on her arms began to caress her, ever so slightly.

“Why would this mean so much to you?” he asked. “You do not know these people. They mean nothing to you.”

She fell silent a moment, contemplating her answer. She had to make him understand. “Nay, I do not know them,” she said. “But someone did. Someone mayhap even loved them. Think on it this way. If it was your father out there, wouldn’t you hope that someone would have the decency to bury the man and put him to rest?”

He let go of her arms, his bright eyes studying her, deliberating on her reply. With her calm questions, she was making him face the most horrific thing in his life rationally, without anger or fear. It was not a pleasing or simple answer that he gave her.

“As far as I know, no one did,” he said quietly. “My father was left on a pole for all to see and I do not know how long he remained there. Everyone knows that de Velt left his victims impaled for at least six months. But what he did with them after that, no one seems to know. More than likely, he threw the bones into a mass grave or into a river.”

Allaston sighed heavily. “But why do you leave them up?” she asked the same question she had asked before. “You are not hurting my father by doing this. You are not even sending him a message because he truthfully doesn’t care. I told you that the only way to truly hurt him would be to put me on a pole so he can see me when he comes to Cloryn, but you would not do it. I even gave you the opportunity.”

His expression was one of displeasure. “You were counting on the fact that I would not do it,” he said. “You knew I would not. You did it to bait me and to humiliate me in front of my men.”

Allaston shook her head. “I did not mean to humiliate you,” she said truthfully. “At the time, I truly meant what I said.”

“That may be, but you caused me some dishonor with your behavior. Surely you realize that.”

“Then tell me how I can prove my remorse?”

His attention focused on her, thinking of all the ways she could make good on her apology, but they were ways she would more than likely not agree to. In fact, she was quite likely to fight him on it because his ideas involved naked bodies. He had to think of something she would be agreeable to, something they would both find satisfaction from. He was on such unsteady ground with her, not knowing what to say, unfamiliar with the art of gentle conversation. He wanted to be polite and courteous, but it was utterly foreign to him. He simply wasn’t an eloquent man so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“No more peas,” he said, pointing to the basket she had set down. “I will eat carrots, but no more peas.”

Allaston grinned, turning to look at the basket he was pointing to. “I must prepare those or they will rot,” he said. “You will not have to eat whatever I make. Is that truly all you can think of to make amends? No more peas?”

He shrugged his big shoulders, eyeing her after a moment. There was a hint of mischief in his expression. “I might forgive you for a kiss.”

The statement has been spoken almost fearfully, as if he knew she was going to deny him even before he asked. It was an utterly innocent statement, too, coming from a man who had no more innocence. It had been taken from him long ago. But not everything in him was ruined. Allaston could see it in his expression. There was still something good and fair underneath. But he was also being a bit impish about it and she played along.

“Cheek or hand?” she asked.

He cocked is head. “What do you mean?”

She signed with mock impatience, as though he was an ignorant fool. “The kiss,” she said. “Where do you want it? Cheek or hand?”

He could see she was jesting with him. “You can plant it on my arse.”

Allaston shrieked in disgust, trying not to giggle as she did so. “I am
not
kissing your arse,” she said. “It is the cheek or the hand.”

Bretton was fighting off a grin. “Those are my only choices?”