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Authors: Teresa Medeiros

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BOOK: shadow and lace
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Gareth raised eyes as dark as midnight. "Tell her I am not worthy of her. I had no right to believe I was."

He was halfway through the door when Blaine's mutter reached his ears. "Damn your pride."

He whirled around. "Aye. Damn my pride. My pride almost killed her." His voice* softened. "I'll not give it another chance."

With those words, Gareth left his friend staring blankly at the parchments in front of him. He strode past the alcove where Little Freddie crouched. The boy slipped out of the shadows as Gareth disappeared into the sunbeams streaming through the main door.

Little Freddie stood for a moment, fists clenched, then started for the stairs. His sure feet pounded up the curved staircase. He sped along a narrow hall, then up a set of steeper stairs. His breath came in quick gasps as he darted down a sloping corridor. His hands rumbled with a latch. He burst onto the battlements into a rush of sun and wind that whipped tears from his smarting eyes. His hands curled over the sun-warmed parapet.

Far below, a stallion emerged from the stables. The dark-garbed knight took the reins, leaving Big Freddie to slump against the stable wall.

As Gareth swung a long leg over the stallion's back, Little Freddie's nails dug into the stone. It was nearly impossible to tell where the black sheen of the stallion ended and the surcoat of the knight began. Gareth urged the horse into a gentle lope down the road that bypassed the lake, the long, winding road that led away from Caerleon.

Little Freddie held his breath as Gareth reached the first curve in the road. The horse slowed, and Gareth guided it in a prancing circle. Even through the distance that separated them, Freddie felt Gareth's eyes find the sheen of his blond hair on the tower. The knight raised a gauntleted hand in salute.

Little Freddie waved both arms wildly, leaning over the wall until the deepening green of the world below tilted. Gareth lowered his arm. He slapped the reins on the stallion's back. The faint tinkling of bells reached Freddie's ears. The stallion turned, breaking into a gallop, carrying its solitary rider around the bend of the curve and out of Freddie's sight. He came back into sight on the next curve—a lonely black speck on a never-ending ribbon of tan. Little Freddie was still waving when he felt the faint pressure of Sir Blaine's hands on his shoulders.

Tasting the salt of tears on his tongue, he swiped at his nose with his sleeve. "How will I tell her he isn't coming back?"

Blaine squeezed his shoulders. "He'll be back, lad. Don't worry. He'll be back."

Even as he said it, Blaine wasn't sure if he was trying to convince the boy or himself.

 

Chapter Twenty-nine

«
^

 

A burst of wind and rain tore the leaves from the branches. They danced and whirled in a chaotic frenzy, taunting Gareth with their crackling refrain. The cold, damp breath of autumn blew down his neck. Beads of rain clung to his beard. He huddled deeper in his cloak, trying to conjure up the vision of his own warm hearth and Dunnla's face wreathed in a welcoming smile. The long, lonely months away from Caerleon, skirmishing with the Scots at Edward's side, had dimmed that vision, blurring it with other memories: a flash of white teeth beneath tangled, black hair; wheaten curls, heavy and damp from a bath, catching every scrap of light the fire tossed away; a bloodstained lance lying in the dirt. The horse jolted into a hole, and Gareth bit his lip, thankful for the cleansing pain. Memories were dangerous and best left alone.

A bundle of wet leaves slapped his neck. He peered upward. Between the black net of branches, the gray sky deepened to the charcoal of twilight. There was no sun to mourn the day's passing. Rain had fallen with leaden weight from dawn to dusk.

Ancient trees lined the wide road, massive and knowing. Unblinking eyes watched him from sockets of bark and moss. Had they always been so menacing? He could feel their weight like the heaviness of his spirit, bearing down on his chest, constricting it until every breath was a burden. Tendrils of mist drifted between them, uncurling their gnarled fingers to beckon the weary traveler. Gareth shivered, cursing his own fancies. He clucked at the horse, hastening its walk to a gentle trot. A crackling fire and a flagon of ale would ease his imagination. One more bend and he would be home.

The tree above his head exploded in a flurry of leaves. A giant bat flung itself from the lowest limb with a bloodcurdling screech. There was only time to half raise an arm to protect his face before the creature was upon him. His yell of dismay blended with the beast's rabid squeal as they both went toppling from the stallion's back into the wet leaves. Gareth's head struck a dead branch. His ears rang and suddenly there were two beasts bouncing gleefully on his chest.

"Surrender," the creature growled, raising a menacing stick.

Gareth blinked. The two beasts blended into one. The bat wore a black helm with a dent where the nose should have been.

Gareth shook his head, silencing the irksome bells. His fingers slowly uncurled. He lifted his palms to each side of his head in a gesture of surrender.

"Ha!" came the triumphant cry.

The head bowed. Hands sheathed in leather gauntlets cracked with age reached for the battered helm.

A new set of bells took wing in Gareth's head—a mad carillon that would have put the bells of any cathedral to shame.

The helm tumbled to the leaves. Gareth was choked in a fall of long, blond hair. Rowena flung it behind her with a wicked grin.

Her eyes sparkled. "An easy victory, milord."

"I always was when it came to you." Gareth's hands reached for her. His thumbs encircled her wrists, probing and rubbing to insure she was bone and flesh, not just a tantalizing illusion spawned from his weary mind. "If you are a robber baron, I have no gold. A beautiful wench broke my heart and won my gold."

"Did she give you these?" Rowena neatly plucked a gray hair from the new sprinkling at his temple.

Gareth's hand slipped beneath her hair, cupping her beautiful sturdy neck. "Losing her gave me those."

" 'Tis just as well you are a pauper. I possess a mighty castle and all the gold I need." She leered at him. " 'Tis not gold I seek."

"Then why have you accosted me, wench?"

At her slight wiggle and coy sidelong glance, Gareth forgot his exhaustion. "I've been waiting many long days and nights for a knight to capture," she whispered.

"So you could carry him away to your enchanted castle and make merry on his body all the night long?"

She sniffed. "You malign me. My intentions are honorable. I have a priest waiting to hear our vows."

"And has he married you to every knight who traversed this road? Mayhaps you have a chest of headless knights awaiting me to take my place among them."

" 'Tis a chance you'll have to take."

She made his choice easier by leaning forward and gently pressing her lips to his. Gareth drew her down to a kiss that left them both breathless. He pulled her face to his shoulder with a reverent sigh.

Rowena laughed huskily against his throat. "Bested by a girl. Methinks you've grown soft in your travels."

"Carry me off to your priest and I shall spend my lifetime proving you wrong."

With a devilish slant of one eyebrow, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, molding their bodies together. His lips found hers again, drinking of the grail of sweetness he had found at the end of his lonely quest.

She pushed against his chest. "For shame, sir. You seek to do your proving without benefit of a priest." She drew a strand of her hair across the tip of his nose.

His nose twitched. He frowned solemnly.

Rowena clutched his hauberk. "Why do you glower so? What ails you, milord?"

He gestured at the branch above their heads. "Before I make my oath, milady, tell me, is this what I have to look forward to every time I return to my bride?"

"Nay, milord. This is what you have to look forward to."

She threw both arms around his neck. They rolled over, oblivious to the sodden leaves clinging to them. Gareth stared down into eyes as blue as the skies of his childhood.

Rowena squealed as he stood and scooped her up in his arms.

He strode toward the castle, ignoring Rowena's halfhearted struggles. "Gridmore!" he bellowed. "Get out here and fetch some rope. I've captured a robber baroness."

He rubbed the tip of his nose to hers. Rowena froze, mesmerized by the desire in his eyes, the paralyzing tenderness of his smile. "And I believe I shall keep her."

She pressed her cheek to his beard, her voice muffled. "For the winter, milord?"

"Nay, milady. Forever."

Rowena lifted her head as they rounded the bend. Torchlight blazed from every window of Caerleon. The rain fell harder. Rowena's arm curled trustingly around Gareth's neck as Little Freddie pelted out the main door to welcome them. The sight of Irwin wrapped in a fur cloak and waving cheerfully from the battlements only deepened Gareth's smile. The Dark Lord of Caerleon had come home.

 

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

 

 

About the Author

 

USA Today
bestseller Teresa Medeiros has well over two million copies of her books in print. She was recently chosen one of the Top Ten Favorite Romance Authors by
Affaire de Coeur
magazine. A former Army brat and registered nurse, Teresa wrote her first novel at the age of twenty-one and has since gone on to win the hearts of both critics and readers alike. Teresa currently lives in a log home in Kentucky with her husband Michael and four lovable neurotic cats.

BOOK: shadow and lace
13.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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