shadow and lace (42 page)

Marlys's grip changed, and Rowena saw that tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hand fell limply away from Rowena's arm.

Gareth plunged toward them. Folio's hooves blurred to white, showing no signs of slowing. Rowena thought Gareth would drive him straight up the steep hill, but at the last possible second he sawed back on the reins, bringing Folio to a rearing halt. The stallion's whinny rang in the air.

Rowena's eyes drank in Gareth's features, watching relief soften and then exasperation tighten the tiny lines around his mouth.

"You foolish little girls! What do you mean going off on such a harebrained quest? You almost got me killed."

The glance Gareth threw over his shoulder reminded them of the horses behind him, black shadows rolling across the meadows. Gareth slid off Folio and started up the hill.

"Gareth."

He stopped, frowning at the sharp note in his sister's voice. His gaze passed between the two women.

Rowena slowly raised her bound hands.

The puzzled expression in his eyes deepened. "What the devil? I thought you went off to find a murderer."

"I did," Rowena said gently.

When Gareth started up the hill again without comprehending, Marlys's arm snaked around Rowena's waist. Sunlight glinted off the blade she pressed to Rowena's throat. Gareth froze, his hands on his knees.

His gaze lit on Marlys and stayed. Her chest heaved against Rowena's back.

"You," he said. It was not a question.

Marlys tossed her head back, her sneer answer enough.

"All those years you let them believe it was me."

"I had no choice," Marlys cried hoarsely. Her hand jerked. The blade bit into Rowena's tender flesh. "They could not touch you. You were Lord of Caerleon. I would have spent the rest of my life chained up in a madhouse or cloistered in a nunnery."

Gareth's mind was quicker than Rowena's. "And Mortimer?"

"He was bent over fluffing up his hose. It only took a tiny bump. He didn't live long enough to hear me beg his pardon."

Gareth's eyes locked on Rowena's face. A thin line of blood trickled into the hollow of her throat. She pressed her eyes shut.

"Free her, Marlys."

Marlys's arm tightened around Rowena's waist. "Why? Your sword bites deeper than mine. You've spilled more of her heart's blood than I ever will."

Gareth took a step up the hill. Marlys dragged Rowena back until the pine branches quivered around their shoulders.

He took another step. "How you must have hated me."

Marlys's face crumpled. "You fool! Elayne hurt you. I could not bear to see you hurt. Don't you know? Don't you understand? You were the only one who was kind to me. Even when I left your life in ruins, not once did you lose your grace, your courage. You are everything I ever wished to be."

Hoofbeats bore down on them. Marlys cast a wild glance at the meadows.

Tears sparkled in Gareth's eyes as he stretched out his hand. "Marlys. Love. Come to me. I shall take care of you. I won't let them hurt you."

Marlys's voice hardened. "Nay. Back down the hill, Gareth. Away from Folio."

The blade touched Rowena's throat again. Gareth obeyed without hesitation. He spread his arms in surrender as Marlys shoved Rowena down the hill in front of her.

Recognizing both women's scents, Folio twitched but did not flee when they stumbled against him.

"Your sword, brother," Marlys snapped.

Gareth unbuckled his sword and tossed it to the ground at her feet. Marlys clutched a handful of Rowena's hair in her fist as she draped the buckler over Folio's saddle and mounted. The sod trembled with the approach of Gareth's pursuers. Marlys leaned over Folio's slender neck.

For a fleeting instant, she buried her face in Rowena's tangled curls. Rowena felt the breath of her whisper against her ear. "I could have never hurt you. Never."

A careless shove. Gareth's waiting arms enfolded her.

Marlys straightened with a jaunty grin that cut straight to Rowena's heart. "Take care of her, brother. If I hear you did not, you will answer to me."

With those words, Marlys wheeled the stallion in a circle. She unsheathed the sword and lifted it in the air as she galloped away from the approaching riders. Her battle cry floated back to them on the wings of the wind as she thundered toward the distant horizon, as free as the knight she had always dreamed of being.

"Marlys!" Gareth's hoarse cry was caught by the wind.

Rowena gripped his arm. "Let her go, Gareth."

Gareth's legs crumpled. Rowena's hands reached for his tunic. He dropped to his knees in the soft turf as a hawk flew in front of the sun and went soaring in Marlys's path until both of them were only shadows against the swaying grasses.

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Rowena sank to her knees beside Gareth, nuzzling his shoulder with a wordless murmur of comfort. He cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing the thin scarlet scratch marring her throat.

"Did she hurt you?" he said gruffly.

Rowena shook her head with a tremulous smile, remembering Marlys's last words to her—words that Gareth could not have heard. Gareth gave the scratch a tender kiss. His lips traveled upward, at first gently, then devouring hungrily her chin, her cheeks, her nose. She answered his kisses with her own, savoring the rough caress of his beard against her skin. His lips found hers. The tangy grit of their sweat bound them together in a taste more precious and infinitely more lasting than goblets of nectar. Gareth rested his forearms heavily on her shoulder.

His head dropped. "Whatever shall I do without her?"

Rowena pressed her brow to his with fierce strength. "You will go on. As she would want you to."

His lips quirked in a half-smile. "When you say it with such conviction, I almost believe it possible."

"All is possible, milord—"

The rest of Rowena's reply was drowned out by the thunder of hoofbeats. She threw herself at Gareth's chest, fearing they were to be trampled. The thunder rolled to a halt. For a long moment, nothing was heard but the stamp and shuffle of hooves and winded snorts. Rowena opened her eyes to find a circle of disapproving faces glaring down at them. The most disapproving was Irwin's moon of a face glowering down from a dun palfrey. Little Freddie and Big Freddie rode nondescript chestnuts. Sir Boris shifted his bulk on his mount, a length of rope dangling conspicuously from his saddle.

Blaine gave a disgusted snort that would have done any of the horses proud and bounced off his black stallion. Gareth's arm circled Rowena protectively.

A pretty black ring around one of Blaine's eyes matched his horse perfectly. He flung out both arms. "Is this what you escaped for? To make merry in a meadow with this beleaguered child? Was it worth all the bodies you left littered across my hall?"

Rowena stiffened.

"Courage, child," Gareth whispered. "Unconscious, not dead." To Blaine, he replied, "You are only testy because yours was one of them."

"You're damned right I'm testy. 'Tis extremely bad form to render your host unconscious. 'Tis against all the rules of hospitality. The Prince of Wales would shudder."

" 'Tis extremely bad form to lock your guests in the spice cellar."

Blaine conceded that point by turning around and kicking a rock. He frowned at the horizon. "Where the hell did Marlys go?"

Rowena opened her mouth. Gareth gave her arm a warning squeeze. "My sister is no concern of yours. She made that clear at an early age."

"Painfully clear." Blaine rubbed his side at the remembrance. "Mayhaps she did not choose to see you strung over the nearest tree."

Little Freddie and Big Freddie exchanged a worried glance. Rowena pulled out of Gareth's arms, ignoring his warning glance. "Marlys did not flee to exile so you could go on bravely bearing the burden of her guilt."

Blaine whirled around. "Guilt?" He fixed Gareth with a hard stare. Gareth climbed to his feet, dusting off his hose.

Blaine's eyes surveyed the horizon. He let out a slow breath, more of admiration than surprise. "So the cantankerous little bitch killed Mortimer."

"And Elayne," Rowena added. Gareth gave her a dark look.

Blaine started for his horse.

Gareth was there with his hand on the bridle. "Going somewhere?"

"To fetch a murderess."

"For hanging?"

Blaine arched an eyebrow. "I had a more private incarceration in mind. With myself as caretaker, of course."

"You had your chance at taming Marlys. There won't be another one."

Gareth's bulk was immovable. Blaine cast a hopeful glance at Sir Boris. The elderly knight studied his fingernails. Rowena gave Gareth's arm a supportive squeeze.

Blaine bit off a curse. "I ought to hang you in her place if only for your treatment of this sweet lady. And not necessarily by the neck."

Rowena paled. Gareth neatly tucked her behind him. "As I told you once before, Blaine, if you have any complaints about my care of this sweet lady, you may challenge me to a joust."

"I have a passel of complaints," Blaine hissed.

Gareth rolled his eyes.

Blaine shook a finger in his face. "You kept her at Caerleon against her will. You brought her to Ardendonne on the end of a rope. Then you allowed her to beabducted by a murdering madwoman. Your care, sir, leaves much to be desired."

Gareth yawned. "So what is it to be? Shall you hang me or challenge me?"

In one smooth motion, Blaine jerked off his gauntlet and whipped it across Gareth's face. Gareth did not flinch, although the leather left a reddened welt on his cheekbone.

"So be it," he said stiffly. "What are the rules of this joust."

Blaine paced away, his hands locked behind him, then paced back. "The prize," he said, "is to be the Lady Rowena."

Rowena waited for Gareth's snort of laughter, his refusal of such a ludicrous wager. "Allow me to clarify that," Gareth said. "The prize is to be the
hand
of the Lady Rowena—in marriage."

"Why my hand?" Rowena mumbled. "Why not my head or my leg?" She tugged on Gareth's sleeve.

Gareth felt the fluttering motion and said out of the corner of his mouth, "Do not fret, my love. 'Tis not a bride Blaine seeks. He will withdraw his challenge."

Blaine shoved his fingers into his gauntlet. "Very well. A bride the lady shall be."

Another gauntlet came sailing through the air, striking Gareth on the temple. "Count me in." Irwin's face had gone as pale as snow, but his voice did not quiver. "She was mine to begin with."

Rowena peered around the circle of men with her mouth hanging open, wondering if they had all gone mad.

" 'Tis settled then," Blaine said. "A tournament tomorrow afternoon with Rowena sitting in the seat of the Queen of Love and Beauty. He who is unseated is lost."

Irwin swayed in his saddle. Big Freddie righted him with a punch to his shoulder.

They all turned to stare as Rowena backed away from Gareth.

Gareth's brow furrowed. "What is it, love?"

"Have you lost your senses? Did you learn nothing from Marlys? A woman is not a possession to be sold or won. Mayhaps if you could have ever convinced her of that, you would not have lost her."

They gaped at her as if she had sprouted horns and a tail. Big Freddie scratched his head.

Blaine looked genuinely puzzled. "You should be thrilled, Rowena. Most women would find it the highest honor to have a joust fought in their name." He looked to Sir Boris for help.

The knight nodded, a distant look in his eyes. "The Queen of Love and Beauty holds the seat coveted by every lady in the land."

Gareth stretched out a tentative hand, as if afraid she might flee. His voice was low, meant only for her ears. "A knight cannot refuse a challenge and keep his honor."

She turned toward the open meadows, pushing her way past Irwin's horse.

Gareth strode after her. He caught her arm in a grip that was less than courtly. "I've lost everything, Rowena. I cannot afford to lose you."

"Nonsense, milord," she said softly. "You've gained that most precious thing you've sought your whole life—your honor. I hope it warms you at night."

With those words, she gathered her tattered skirts in her hands and marched away through the crackling grasses. Clutching a handful of mane, Little Freddie steered his mount in a circle.

He twisted around with an insulting dip meant to be a bow. An impish grin curved his lips. "With your leave, milord?"

Gareth shooed him away with a growl. Little Freddie trotted after his sister. Gareth did not take his eyes off Rowena until she mounted behind Little Freddie without relaxing the proud curve of her spine. Then he rubbed his pounding temples.

Blaine dug a sharp chin into his shoulder. "Women! Grand and mysterious creatures, are they not?"