Samantha James (26 page)

The hall was deserted. She was making her way toward the hearth to warm herself, when the doors swung open.

Simon strode in, bold as you please. Glenda squared her shoulders and fixed him with a glare.

“You are no longer welcome here, Simon.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

Oh, but she itched to slap the arrogance from his face! “You know very well why. I suggest you leave forthwith.”

Her demand met with grating laughter. “Oh, I think not. Not just yet.”

There was something in his smile, something that sent a prickle of alarm up her spine. She glanced around, but there were no servants about.

He stepped close. “Your mantle,” he said pleasantly. “You’ll be needing it for the journey.”

“What journey? I’ll go nowhere with you!”

Ruthless fingers bit into the flesh of her arm. He jerked her against him. “Oh, but you will. You’re going to England, a journey you make for your own safety. I’m taking you under my protection. Your husband has gone quite mad, you see. Terrorizing the countryside. Murdering his own guards.”

In shock Glenda stared into his eyes. They flamed
with a light she could not begin to understand. He was the one who was mad, she thought faintly.

She tried to bring her fists up between them, to pummel his face. His arms tightened so that she feared her bones would surely be crushed. Suddenly she could scarcely breathe. Yet somehow she managed to tilt her head back. “You cannot think to get away with this! Egan will not allow it—”

“Your husband is already dead.”

“No! He is on his way to the Sutherland—”

Simon was shaking his head. “No,” he said calmly.

Glenda froze. “Dear God. ’Tis a trap—”

“No doubt my men have killed him by now—’tis most fortuitous that they should rid us all of this vermin from the north, eh?” Satisfaction rimmed his twisted smile. “But your daughter, Glenda. Where is she? In your chamber?”

Her eyes sparked. “What do you want with Elizabeth?” She opened her mouth to scream.

Brutal fingers clamped around her mouth. “Do not,” he warned silkily. “I know she’s in your chamber. If you scream, by the time help arrives, I’ll have her throat slit.”

He made the prediction with chilling coldness. Glenda saw that in his twisted, ugly smile, which made her blood curdle. Sickly she acknowledged that he was wild and crazed—that her premonition had been of this moment. His arms loosened, but he jerked her up hard against his side. Firelight glinted off the dagger in his free hand.

Glenda’s heart sank. She had no choice but to do as he’d commanded.

Mutely she led the way to her chamber. Taking a
deep, serrated breath, she reached for Elizabeth.

The cradle was empty.

Glenda stared down in horror. “My babe,” she gasped. “Elizabeth!”

In an instant Simon was beside her. He flung the blankets to the floor and whirled on her.

“Where is she?”

Glenda’s eyes were streaming. She began to shake helplessly. “I do not know!”

Simon released a long, violent curse. “I’ll not waste time looking for the brat! Come!” He nearly wrenched her arm from the socket and dragged her toward the stairs.

But the hall was not deserted. Nessa was just about to climb the winding steps.

Glenda’s eyes flew wide. “Nessa, run!” Even as she realized the futility of the command, Simon seized the old woman’s staff and dealt her a stunning blow to the head.

The old woman crumpled to the rushes.

“Nessa!” Glenda gave a strangled cry and would have rushed forward, but Simon stopped her.

“Leave the old witch be!” he snarled.

His dagger pressed against the small of her back, Glenda moved numbly into the chill night air.

“Stop!” The word whistled quietly through Egan’s teeth. He reined his stallion to an abrupt halt. The men behind him followed suit.

The clouds shifted and surged, revealing a full, perfect moon. Silvery beams spilled down from the sky, so that it was nearly as light as day.

Milburn’s mount let out a snort. He leaned close. His face held a watchful calm. “What is it?” he murmured.

Their eyes met. It flitted through Egan’s mind that much had changed since the day he and Glenda had first passed through the gates of Blackstone Tower. Milburn was no longer a sotted guard who swilled his ale so freely. The hours of training had rendered his body muscled and toned, his sword arm capable and adept. Egan now counted him as his most capable man.

They had not ridden far. In all truth, Egan could not say what came over him in that instant. The hair on the back of his neck rose as if in warning, alerting his every senses.

Danger lurked just ahead.

His fingers curled around the handle of his sword. It slipped from its scabbard with nary a hiss of sound. A silent nod indicated the road just ahead. There was a curve where the embankment dipped low and led to the wandering stream below.

By now Milburn’s sword was in hand as well, as were those of his men.

Guttural shouts erupted, shattering the silence of the night. A horde of men surged from the ditch, brandishing their weapons high aloft. Steel rang against steel. There were moans and screams, but the men lying in wait for Egan were no match for his men.

They met their end with swiftness and little mercy.

Milburn leaped down from his horse and strode to a heavy-jowled man who lay sprawled on his back. “This is Simon’s man. I recognize him.” With the tip of his sword, he pointed to another, and another. Steel arced through the air. “All of them.”

Egan shifted in his saddle. “They knew we were coming.”

“You think it was a trap?”

Egan set his jaw. “Aye.”

A flicker of disquiet knotted in his belly. His unease mounted with every beat of his pulse. His mind turned furiously. All at once he couldn’t stifle the feeling that Glenda might be in danger as well.

“I will take no chances, Milburn. Will you take the men and ride on to the Sutherlands to make certain that all is well there?”

Milburn’s chest swelled. He was honored that Egan would entrust him so. “Aye. But what of you?”

Egan gritted his teeth. “I’m going back to Blackstone.”

The night sentry saluted him when he arrived at the gatehouse.

“Have you admitted anyone since I left?”

“Only Simon Ruthven, my lord. Your lady then departed with him.”

Simon—with Glenda! A jolt ran through him. Egan could have howled his rage aloud, yet he couldn’t blame the guard. He’d been careless. He’d left few of his men here at Blackstone. He’d been so certain it was Simon who’d been captured at the Sutherland farm.

The guard frowned. “My lord? My lord!” The guard’s cries were lost in the thunder of hoofbeats.

Egan had already wheeled and raced away, his features utterly grim.

Glenda was terrified. Not for herself, but for Nessa and Egan—for their daughter. She could not bear to think that Simon’s men had slain Egan; to think that his body lay still upon the earth, bloodied and unmoving…nay! She would not allow herself to believe it!

But where was Elizabeth? Most everyone in the keep had been abed. She didn’t believe in faeries and witches, but her mind and heart were all awhirl. Had some demon snatched her babe away? No. It wasn’t possible. Yet who could have taken the babe from her bed…and why? It was all she could do to stop her heart from plummeting to an endless depth of despair, yet she forced herself to cling to a gossamer thread of hope.

Simon had set her on his horse before him. She held herself stiffly erect, not wanting to touch him, any part of him. It was then she heard it…

The thunder of hoofbeats…her ears strained. In her desperation, did she only imagine it? The hour was late. Had Simon heard it? she wondered. Nay. His pace remained steady, but not urgent. They were headed toward his keep; it seemed he was in no hurry. The wind picked up, sending a scattering of leaves across the ground.

Her mind raced. If indeed a rider approached, she could call out for help, if she could only get Simon to halt. Aye, she had to think of something. Somehow she had to get away. She had to do…something!

“Simon, you must stop!”

“Not yet.”

“Simon, I-I beg you! We must halt for a while.” The plea cost her, but he slowed his horse, leading it to a copse of trees just off the road.

He dismounted, then lifted her down. His gaze ran over her. Aware of his perusal, deliberately she hobbled toward a stout oak tree.

He followed her. “What’s wrong?” he asked with a scowl.

“Use your imagination,” she said irritably. “My child was born but a fortnight past. I’m not yet ready to ride a horse.”

His stare turned brazen. With a sly smile, he ran a finger down the shape of one breast. “Before long you’ll be riding me.”

His crudity made her flush. She pushed his hand away. The thought of his hands on her made her skin crawl.

“My people will never believe I left willingly.”

He laughed outright. “Lady, the guard at the gate saw you go willingly,” he boasted. “Your lands will be mine one way or another, and so will you.”

“Is that why you did this? Harried my people? Set fire to their homes and drove them away?”

He smirked. “When your uncle sickened, it was then I began to think…Blackstone lands might easily be mine!”

“But for months you did nothing! Once Egan and I wed—”

“I knew I could never be so obvious. The earl would never have allowed me to take your lands by force. I had to bide my time—and find another way.”

“Another way?” she cried. “
Deceit
was your way! You and your men hid your faces. You were afraid of Egan, afraid to face him outright, afraid of being beaten!”

His smile faded. He glowered, but said nothing. Glenda knew then she was right. “What about Murphy and Holmes? Why did you murder them?”

His smirk returned in full measure. “They had to die. They saw me and one of my men one night.”

Glenda felt sick inside. “Someone will find out, Simon. The earl—”

“Will believe what I tell him, I assure you. As for you, you’ll do exactly as I say, as long as I have your daughter.”

Glenda felt the blood drain from her face.

“Ah, I see you take my meaning,” he taunted. “You’ll do whatever I want, whenever I want.”

“I know not where she is,” she said quickly.

“That I do not believe, lady. Even if you do not, someone does.”

In this, she could only hope that he was right…

“I’ve no qualms about gaining what I want—in any way I want.”

Glenda raised her chin. She had no doubt the tales of his cruelty were true.

“’Tis just as Egan said. You prey on those who are weaker than you, because
you
are weak! You are a coward, Simon. You set your men on him because you are afraid to face him yourself!”

“Watch your tongue, else I’ll cut it out.” For an instant, anger transformed his features into a distorted mask. Then suddenly he was smiling, a smile that sent a chill the length of her. “No,” he pretended to muse, “I do believe I’d regret it. I can think of many other uses for your tongue—all pertaining to my pleasure.” He leered.

“I’ll bring you no pleasure. You disgust me!” She raised her hand to strike him.

He caught it and dragged it behind her back. His grip merciless, he yanked her against him. His mouth came down on hers, hot and open and wet. He thrust her against the tree so that she cried out. When she did, his tongue stabbed at hers, gouging deep; she gagged. Hard hands caught at her hips and dragged her skirts high.

“No!” she screeched. “You will not do this!” She raised her fists high to pummel him.

Once again she failed. He caught her wrists and jammed them against her sides. He wedged his weight between her thighs and ground himself against her; Glenda was suddenly certain he did not
care that her woman’s flesh was still swollen and tender and healing from the rigors of childbirth.

He panted against her throat. “You’re mine—”

“Nay, Simon, she’s mine, and I grow weary of this battle. What say we settle this here and now?”

That voice, coolly imperious…It was Egan! Even as joy bounded high, she wondered how he had delivered himself so silently that neither she nor Simon had heard him. Then she realized that Simon had been so intent on his lust, and she on fighting him off, that an army could have passed by and neither of them would have noticed.

Simon’s hands fell away from her. He turned and gaped, yet despite his astonishment, his recovery was speedy.

“You bastard,” he sneered. “You should have stayed in the Highlands!”

Egan’s eyes were steady on his foe, but it was Glenda that his quiet tone encompassed. “Stand clear, sweet.”

But Glenda could not move. A dagger had appeared in Simon’s hands. A scream welled in her throat as he bared his teeth and charged toward Egan, his arm raised high.

The dagger never fell. In his rage, he failed to see the glint of steel at Egan’s side. Egan had only to raise his arm…

Impaled on his sword, Simon slumped to the earth without a sound.

It was over in but a heartbeat…yet for Glenda, ’twas never-ending.

She swayed unsteadily, then all at once strong arms enveloped her.

“Egan.” She choked out his name and sagged against him, overcome with emotion. “Oh, God, Simon said you were dead—”

“I know. I heard. Ah, but ’twould take a better man than Simon to see me to my grave.”

“I knew you would come. You always do…whenever I need you, you’re always near.” She clutched at him, trying desperately to contain the tumult of emotion tearing through her breast. She longed to cry that she loved him…demand that he love her in return! But all that emerged was a dry, jagged sob. Hot tears began to slide down her cheeks.

“Hush, love. It’s over. We’re safe and unharmed.”

She shook her head, unable to quell her anguish. “Did you come from Blackstone?”

“Aye.”

“Elizabeth…did you see her?”

He frowned.

Her tears only flowed the harder. “No,” she said brokenly. “God, no!”

“Glenda, what is wrong?”

She raised her face to his. “She was gone, Egan. She was gone!”

Egan stared at her. A trickle of unease creeped along his spine. “What do you mean?”

“She was not in her cradle, Egan. Simon intended to take her as well, but she was gone!”

His mind balked. There had to be some reason…’twas not as if the babe could walk away!

“Sweet, calm yourself. Perhaps in the dark, you were mistaken—”

“I was not. She was gone, I tell you!”

“Then surely Nessa has her—”

“She does not. Simon struck her when we left, and I fear she may be dead, too!”

There was a cramping tightness in his chest. Elizabeth…gone, he thought vaguely. It could not be. For an instant he couldn’t move. The terror in Glenda’s eyes pierced him to the soul, for he knew this was her deepest fear. To lose her child…
their
child.

Perhaps it was Glenda’s tears, but he was suddenly unable to still the alarm that leaped in his breast. Turning abruptly, he whistled for his stallion. Without a word he swung Glenda up before him in the saddle.

They raced frantically back to Blackstone.

Her cheeks were still damp when the walls of Blackstone Tower came into view. A shout went up when the guard raised the gate and they passed into the bailey. A small body of soldiers and horses were gathered near the stables; apparently they had readied themselves to ride after him.

Someone spied Egan and called out. “My lord!”

Egan raised a hand. “Simon is dead,” he shouted.

A deafening cheer went up; Simon the Lawless would not be missed here at Blackstone.

Assisting Glenda to the ground, he glimpsed Nessa hobbling toward them. A massive bruise welled on her temple, but at least she was alive. Glenda saw her then as well. Crying out, Glenda ran to her. Egan joined them, stunned when the old woman turned and hugged him as fiercely as her aging arms would allow. Glenda smiled, but her expression was still fraught with anxiety.

She reached for Nessa’s gnarled hands. “Where is Elizabeth? Have you seen her?”

Iron-gray brows raised in confusion. “Why, surely the wee lamb is still asleep in your chamber—”

“Nay, she is not! Simon would have taken her, too, but she was gone!” Glenda raised tear-bright eyes to Egan. “I want my babe! Where is my babe?”

His arm stole around her. He was nearly as pale as his wife.

“We will find her,” was all he said. “
We will find her
.”

Egan caught Glenda’s hand and brought her close to his side. At his urgent command, others began to search for the missing infant.

And indeed, Elizabeth was not in her cradle. The sight of that empty nest wrung a moan from Glenda, but she made no further outcry when Egan drew her from the chamber to search first the north tower, then the south. The air was stale and thick with dust, for the rooms there had not been used in many a year. Though Glenda tried hard to take comfort from Egan’s staunchness, when no cry that Elizabeth had been found was forthcoming, her spirit grew ever more leaden.

They were just about to leave the uppermost chamber when Egan suddenly stopped. Glenda’s gaze swung to his face. She saw that he was staring intently at the cupboard jammed against the far wall.

Were it not for the first faint glimmer of dawn peeping through the shutters, lending its light to their candle, she might never have seen the bit of cloth sticking out from the bottom edge of the cup
board. In but a heartbeat he’d crossed the room anew and swung the door wide.

There was a small figure hunched inside. With a gasp the figure looked up at Egan, her eyes dark and wide and frantic.

It was Jeannine. In all the furor, Glenda had failed to notice that Jeannine was not present.

Egan cocked his head. “Jeannine?” he queried gently. “Are you hiding?”