Halcyon Rising (5 page)
Authors: Diana Bold
The temptation to touch her again, to run his hands across her soft skin or investigate the strange fabric she wore grew so strong he forced himself to back away from the bed. Better to have left her in the dungeon than to have introduced such chaos into his orderly life. She made him remember the press of bare skin to bare skin, the blissful ecstasy to be found in the arms of another.
Until she had come into his life, he had not realized how lonely he had become.
But what was he to do with her? Sighing, he turned back to the fireplace, stoked the embers into a roaring flame, and forced himself to focus on mundane tasks instead of his rioting emotions.
She would be hungry when she woke. God knew how long it had been since she’d had a nourishing meal. Starvation probably contributed to her weakness. She did not seem the type of girl to faint on a whim. He would make her a hearty stew, and then brew a tisane for her discomfort.
Once he had put a fresh kettle of water on to boil, he grabbed her amazing light stick and traipsed back down to the ground floor of the tower, where he kept his herbs and flowers. He shone the light in a slow circle around the room, assuring himself she had not found the hidden passageway to the hot springs that lay deep below the castle. Fortunately, the large cabinet that hid the tunnel appeared untouched.
The lever on the floor that opened the door was harder to conceal. Whoever had built the castle had obviously felt no need to hide it, since anyone who might see it would already be in the tower.
The ancients obviously never had to contain a beautiful, infuriating siren within these walls.
A small smile curved his lips as he remembered finding her in a pathetic little heap in front of the door.
I was trying to escape.
So brave, even when thoroughly caught.
I was trying to escape.
So brave, even when thoroughly caught.
He would have to keep a better eye on her in the future. The only thing that had kept her from getting away from him tonight was sheer exhaustion. She had been too tired to think clearly, had given up when she could not open the door. If he gave her another chance, she would certainly prove more resourceful.
With a grunt of effort, he moved one of his heavy drying tables over the floor lever, so she could not find it.
That problem temporarily solved, he filled a basket with onions, garlic and parsley he had harvested from the castle garden a few days ago. He also tossed in a slab of ham he had taken in payment for a love potion he had brewed for a silly village lad. That should make a nice stew.
What to put in the tisane? Lavender and valerian for pain. Mint to help her rest. Rose petals for aches and to calm her nerves. Essential oil of clove to strengthen the heart.
Ingredients complete, he ascended the stairs once again, pleased to find the girl still sleeping soundly. He wished he knew her name, but he despaired of her ever telling him. He had let her closer than he had let anyone in almost a decade, yet he did not even know what to call her.
For the next half hour, he busied himself with chopping and brewing, letting the familiar preparations soothe his frayed thoughts. One step after another. Everything in a neat, orderly ritual. Such careful attention to detail had helped get him through the last few years, and ‘twas his only hope of surviving the lovely mystery in his bed.
* * *
Rhoswen awoke to a plethora of wonderful, exotic scents. Her stomach growled hungrily, and she opened her eyes in wary confusion, trying to remember where she was and why every muscle in her body ached. Her panicked gaze skidded to a stop when she saw Sebastian seated at his table, examining her portable data unit.
Everything came back in a rush — her capture, her aborted escape.
Sunlight flooded the narrow arrow slits that ringed the tower. An errant beam caught in Sebastian’s dark hair, illuminating strands of copper and gold. His hair wasn’t black, she realized, but a deep, rich sable.
She shifted uneasily, ashamed and embarrassed by the flood of desire the very sight of him roused within her. She should hate him for keeping her against her will, yet all she could think about was the tenderness in his gaze after he’d carried her to his bed and bade her to rest.
“You are awake, my lady.” His voice startled her, and when she lifted her gaze to his, she found him staring intently. He put the data unit aside and stood with the spare grace that characterized all his movements. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore and hungry,” she admitted, her voice little more than a hoarse rasp.
Holding her gaze, he moved toward the fireplace. “I have made some stew, which should help you to regain your strength. And I have also made you a tisane for the pain.”
“Thank you.” His kindness stunned her once again.
“If you can sit up, I will bring you a tray.” As he spoke, he ladled a large spoonful of whatever boiled on the hearth into a bowl, then poured something from a kettle into a earthenware cup.
She struggled to push herself to a sitting position, wincing when her muscles screamed in protest. She’d never known it was possible to feel this miserable. Her wetsuit was stiff with saltwater and sweat, sticking to her skin and chafing terribly. The four-day walk had sapped her strength, and she wondered how she’d ever regain it. She wanted nothing more than to soak in a hot bath for a day or two, then sleep for a week.
As she leaned back against the carved, wooden headboard, Sebastian brought her the tray. He placed it carefully in her lap, and she noticed the dark circles that shadowed his eyes.
“Have you been awake all night?”
He nodded, and she remembered him saying something about bad dreams before she’d faded off.
“You should try and get some rest. I’d be happy to return your bed.”
“Ah, but then who would keep an eye on you?” he chided. “It would be unfortunate to have to bind a lady to a chair.”
“You needn’t bind me,” she snapped, her patience worn thin. “We’ve already determined that I can’t get out.”
“Yes, but we both know that there is a way out. Given enough time, I am sure you are smart enough to find it.”
She gaped at him, unsure whether to be angry that he would consider tying her up or flattered by his belief in her ability to beat his “magic” door.
“Eat,” he murmured. “Your stew is getting cold.”
Unable to think of a suitable retort, she turned her attention to the fragrant dish he’d laid before her. She took a bite and found the combination of unfamiliar tastes far more appetizing than she’d expected.
“It’s quite good,” she admitted with reluctant gratitude.
He gave her a quick smile and resumed his seat at the table on the far side of the room. “I have my talents.”
The husky note in his voice brought to mind all sorts of interesting possibilities, none of them having to do with cooking. Her cheeks flamed as she turned her attention back to her food.
Bothersome man.
Every time she’d decided she couldn’t trust him, that he was just like the others, he did something to surprise her, something that made her long to learn more about him.
Blessed silence fell between them as she finished her meal. She sniffed the tisane cautiously but decided that if he meant to kill her, he could have done so half a dozen times already, so there was no need to resort to poison. Besides, given the large quantity of herbs and flowers on the ground floor, she assumed he knew quite a bit about the science of plants.
“What’s in it?” she asked.
“Something to take away your aches and pains, a sleeping draught, and a few other things to rebuild your strength and balance your bodily humors.”
Lifting the fragrant potion to her lips, she drained the entire concoction, wincing a bit at the potency. “You seem to be quite a healer. I never expected to find someone so knowledgeable in this…place.”
“What did you expect?” He leaned back in his chair, frowning. “You still have not told me your purpose here, or even your name. As I told you last night, I cannot help you if you do not cooperate.”
“I appreciate all you’ve done. But despite your many kindnesses, you’re still one of them. You’re your brother’s man. I can’t expect you to put my interests before his. I don’t blame you for that, but I can’t possibly trust you either.”
“Fair enough.” With a sigh, he pushed to his feet. “Do you need to use the garderobe?”
It took her a moment to understand what he was asking, but then she shook her head. She’d become dehydrated from the lack of water on her forced march. Hopefully, his tisane would help. “No, not yet.”
Reaching into a trunk at the foot of the bed, he grabbed a long, slender length of fabric. “I am sorry to have to do this, but I have some errands to run, and you leave me no choice.”
He started toward her, and when she realized his intent, she tried to evade him. The tray and her lingering weakness hampered her. Before she’d done more than shift position, he’d removed the tray and bound her wrists to the headboard.
“No.” She twisted in a frantic attempt to free herself from her bonds. “Please don’t do this.”
“I will not be gone long,” he assured her. “Try and get some more rest. I will return with all haste.”
Then, much to her fury, he turned and left the room.
Chapter Four
Sebastian hurried across the bailey, bypassing a group of giggling kitchen maids near the gardens. Father Alric stood on the chapel steps, and when the priest caught sight of his nemesis he crossed himself and turned away, as though any contact with the godless denizen of the tower would send him straight to Hell. The priest’s attitude suited Sebastian just fine. He would rather be avoided than persecuted and preached at. Besides, he sensed he was about to get a lengthy sermon from his brother.
He had promised Simon a full report but had little to convey. Not even her name — a fact that still rankled far more than it should. Why should he care? All he wanted from her were the secrets of her incredible machines. The sooner he had what he sought and was free of her, the better. She had created far too much havoc during the scant hours since she had entered his life.
In truth, he could have waited until later to speak to his brother, but he had been eager to escape her unsettling presence.
He liked her.
With every spirited retort, she intrigued him more. He had never known a woman so intelligent and sure of herself. How was he supposed to remain detached when every glance in her direction made him ache with need?
Crossing the armory, he headed into the Great Hall, where his brother held court every morning to listen to the villagers’ concerns and complaints. His unexpected arrival caused a bit of a stir, and he wished for the familiar protection of his hooded robe, which allowed him to hide both his features and emotions.
People feared what they could not see, and it had always amused him to assume the role of faceless shadow.
Unfortunately, his lovely prisoner had appropriated the garment. She had remained huddled within the warm folds ever since he had first wrapped the woolen robe around her in the dungeon, and he had not had the heart to take that small bit of security away from her.
He walked a dangerous line where the girl was concerned. He still had not decided how far he was willing to press Simon in order to keep her safe.
Schooling his features, he forced all thoughts of her from his mind and focused his attention upon his brother. The Lord of Hawkesmere sat in his throne-like chair upon the dais, looking bored as he listened to a villager drone on about a stolen chicken. When he caught sight of Sebastian, he gave the man a few brief words of counsel, then gestured for his brother to join him.
“Good morning.” Sebastian took the chair beside Simon’s, the one he seldom bothered to use. Weeks had passed since he had eaten a meal in the Hall. Having spent nearly an entire day with the girl, he had begun to realize just how much he had set himself apart from the people of Hawkesmere, how solitary and empty his life had become.
Simon leaned back and surveyed him from head to toe. “What have you learned?”
Sebastian had always liked the fact that his brother did not waste time with small talk. “Nothing. The poor thing was exhausted. She slept most of the night.” No reason to tell Simon of the failed escape attempt. Not as long as she remained safely in his care.
Simon’s gaze sharpened. “You are being too soft on her.”
Sebastian flinched, because his brother’s words had hit a nerve. Why was he so determined to see the good in her? For all he knew, her people ringed Hawkesmere’s gates at this very moment, ready to attack. “And you are being far too hard,” he countered, trying to justify himself. “You would treat her as harshly as the lowest criminal, given a chance.”
“How do I know she is not a criminal? Simply because she is fair to look upon? I must say I am surprised by your interest in the woman. From all accounts, you have not so much as touched a village maid’s hand in passing since you returned from the Holy Land, yet you have been smitten by this maiden since you first laid eyes upon her.”
“I am not smitten,” Sebastian protested, stunned by the fact that his brother had been monitoring his sexual activity — or lack thereof. “I merely wish to grant her Christian charity.”
“Christian charity?” Simon gave a hearty laugh. “I will have to tell the priest you have given up your godless ways.”
“Perhaps not all of them,” Sebastian admitted wryly. “But you know it has always bothered me to see an innocent harmed.”
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