Authors: Julia Templeton
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Erotica, #Historical, #General
Renaud crested the final hill, and inhaled a deep, steadying breath as he took in the sight below.
He smiled. Braemere in all her glory.
It had been less than a month since he had first set eyes on the impressive fief, and he would never forget her beauty. Much as the beauty within.
Every part of him ached for Aleysia, and had since he'd left Braemere a week ago. To see her face, to hear her voice.
Though he had lost this beautiful fief, he prayed he had not lost the woman he loved. Aye, and love her he did. He would do everything he could to regain William's favor.
He nudged his mount into a gallop, anxious to see the woman whose green eyes had haunted him so much these past days.
As he approached the gatehouse he heard Galeran's voice, shouting orders.
Unease rippled along his spine. Something was amiss.
The portcullis opened and Galeran rode out, two dozen men behind him, all dressed in armor.
Galeran, clearly surprised to see him, approached. "My lord, I fear I have bad news. MacMillan has taken Aleysia."
Anger and fear surged within him. "When?"
"Two hours ago. He killed six guards. I am sorry, my lord. I do not know how they managed to sneak inside the keep without being spotted."
Renaud turned to his squire. "Bring me a fresh mount."
The boy nodded, and raced for the bailey.
"How many men were with him?"
"Alexander said there are fresh tracks in the forest."
"Then we will take at least twice that and leave the others here."
They rode hard for hours, at a full gallop, following the path the Scots had left.
Renaud let his anger fuel him, and as they ate up the miles and approached the borderlands, he knew they were at a disadvantage. The terrain grew more treacherous with every mile, the weather worse. He could easily be falling into a trap. Two men were sent ahead, hoping they would not encounter danger.
Now those scouts came galloping toward him, a third man with them.
"Adelstan?" he said under his breath, recognizing the young man's blond hair and broad shoulders.
"Aye, it is." Galeran followed Renaud as they approached the trio. "What the devil is he doing here?"
"De Wulf," Adelstan said with a nod. "MacMillan passed this way just an hour ago. I followed them to a small valley where a cathedral sits. From what I could hear, I believe he intends to marry Aleysia this evening. We have little time to waste."
Renaud's blood ran cold. "The bastard certainly wasted no time."
"Aye, he wants to make sure that Aleysia is his."
"By God he will not!" Renaud replied.
"How many men are there?"
"I counted thirty."
"We will follow you then," Renaud said, motioning for his men. "Did you see your sister?"
"Aye, she is well. But scared. We just need to make it in time."
Adelstan pulled his mount up alongside Renaud. "I pray that we will not be too late."
"If we are, then Aleysia will be a widow by tonight. She belongs to me and no other."
The river was as cold as ice, but Aleysia clamped her teeth together and took another step out into the slow-moving water.
She wore just an under tunic, insisting on it due to her modesty. Audrey had shook her head while muttering under her breath. Aleysia wanted to make sure she had something covering her when she made her escape.
Duncan's sister stood on the riverbank, watching her closely. The two men who had followed them stood just out of sight, close enough that she could hear them conversing. The sun was slipping beyond the hills, which would work in her favor.
She must hurry though and take advantage of time. Taking another step, she waded out until she was in waist deep.
"Careful," Audrey yelled, as she tossed her the soap.
Aleysia made quick work of washing her body, then spent a little longer soaping her hair, looking toward the horizon where the sun was making its descent.
If luck was on her side, she could hide in the forests tonight, and then, God willing, make for Braemere in the morning. One thing that worked to her advantage was that she knew about soldiers and how to make do with very little. She also knew how to find shelter and how to hide and stay hidden from an enemy.
Problem was, the night was growing bitterly cold, and she would be on the run with soaked hair and wearing nothing but an under tunic, and a wet one at that. God willing she would find a hollowed-out tree, or some type of shelter that would keep her safe from the elements.
And the Scots who would be looking for her.
"Hurry, Aleysia."
She looked over her shoulder at the older woman, while her fingers curled around a good-size rock on the river's floor. It would have to do.
She hated to hurt Audrey, but she had no choice.
"I am finished." Aleysia stepped from the water, hiding the rock behind her back.
Audrey opened the drying cloth and came toward her. She put the cloth about Aleysia's shoulders and pulled her hair out from beneath it. She turned to grab Aleysia's shoes and that's when Aleysia brought the rock up and hit the woman square on the back of the head.
Audrey slumped to the ground soundlessly. Aleysia winced, hoping she had not hit her so hard as to kill her.
Aleysia hurriedly removed the other woman's shoes and put them on. Wrapping the drying cloth about her shoulders, she raced toward the south, far away from the camp, and crossed over a small bridge she had seen earlier.
She ran for miles, not looking back, ignoring the sounds of night all about her. She had always had Adelstan with her to calm her fears, but now in this unfamiliar terrain, she had never felt so alone. Worse still, she would be hunted shortly.
Tripping over a fallen log, Aleysia stifled a cry, wincing as a short branch cut her calf. Blood seeped down between her toes. Ripping a piece from her soaked under tunic, she wrapped it about her injured leg and stood. The wound was deep, making walking exceedingly hard.
Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away, praying for the strength to continue.
An owl hooted overhead, and she stopped short, hearing something else.
She closed her eyes, concentrating, and realized with a start it was horses' hooves. Several in fact. Fear paralyzed her.
No doubt Duncan had discovered Audrey on the riverbank. Looking for cover, she rolled up into a ball, her back to the trunk of a giant oak.
Her chest constricted, her heart rate accelerating the closer they came.
It did not help that both the tunic and linen sheet were white, and would no doubt stick out in the dark woods like a beacon. She gasped when out of the darkness came a large black horse... and riding it was Duncan.
Dear God, no!
He saw her.
She scrambled to her feet and ran, darting through the brush, hoping that the low-hanging branches would stop him.
But it didn't. The next thing she knew Duncan was off his horse, and he grabbed her none too gently by the neck, and threw her up against a tree trunk, so hard the breath left her lungs.
His men had stopped, not ten feet from them. There was nowhere to run. No way to escape them.
Two of Duncan's men dismounted, while the others stayed astride, watching her with wicked smiles.
"You think to escape me? You nearly kill my sister, and then disappear into the night. Do you return to him? To the Norman? What a little whore! Think ye I know nothing? Your father would turn over in his grave if he knew his daughter fucked his enemy." He shook his head while he untied his cloak.
Though it was dark, she could see the murderous gleam in his eyes. Cruel eyes.
If only Renaud were here with her now.
Duncan's dark gaze shifted from hers, to the neckline of her gown. She had thought for a moment he would give her his cloak, but now she realized with horror, that he had something else in mind.
Something that made her blood run cold.
He ran a finger along her jaw, down her throat, to the erratic pulse at the base of her neck, to where his hand covered her breast. "I have waited far too long for this moment."
His men snickered behind him. It would not help to cry out. There would be no one to hear her. Plus, he wanted her to cry. To hurt her.
"What are you doing, Duncan?" she asked, her tone surprisingly calm.
His lips curved into a sinister smile. "What I should have done years ago. What I have been waiting to do from the first moment I saw you."
Bile rose in her throat as with his free hand he untied his braies. A second later his erection pressed against her belly.
One of the men behind Duncan shifted on his feet. One looked away, while the men still astride their horses watched.
No one would help her.
She tried to wrench away, using every last bit of strength, but he held her firm.
Bringing her knee up, she caught him in the ballocks, but still he did not let go. However, he did take a moment to slap her, so hard she again tasted blood.
His rough fingers pulled on a nipple, tweaking it hard, sending pain coursing throughout her.
"Why do you do this here, in front of others? My father would kill you if he were alive. He trusted you."
He flinched as though struck. "Your father is dead, and soon you will join him."
She felt the blood drain from her face.
He ignored her, and she closed her eyes, unable to watch the men witness her rape.
Duncan kicked her feet apart, and his sex probed her women's flesh.
Her heart beat so loudly she could hear nothing above it. One minute Duncan's lips were against her forehead, the next a primitive cry sounded throughout the forest.
Renaud hit Duncan so hard, Duncan's front teeth flew from his mouth.
Before the older man could stand, Renaud struck him again, this time on the jaw. Duncan's head snapped back hard.
From the corner of his eye he saw Adelstan covering Aleysia with his cloak, holding her tightly to him, while his men made quick work of the Scots, including the two who had taken off on horseback.
Renaud trembled with hatred, the image of Duncan as he'd nearly raped Aleysia while his men watched replaying in his mind.
He had seen the fear in her eyes before she closed them.
Thank God he had not been too late.
Duncan tried to fight back, but only managed a right punch to Renaud's stomach. The only thing Renaud could feel was the blood coursing through his body while he hit the Scot over and over... until the man's face was a bloody mess, and his breathing labored.
Let the man die like the animal he was.
Here in the forest.
"Kill him!" one of Renaud's men shouted.
Duncan fought to get on his feet, and when finally he stood Adelstan approached him. Silver flashed—the blade long. The Scot went to swing, but Adelstan was faster, his blade sinking into the man's barrel chest.
Shock showed on the highlander's face, a moment before he sank to the ground in a heap.
Aleysia went into Renaud's arms, holding him tight, like she wanted to step inside him. He embraced her in return, kissing the top of her head. "Thank God you are well."
She looked up at him, her lashes spiked with tears. How delicate she appeared. Her face bruised from the abuse she had endured. So frail.
"Adelstan is right. The others will return. We had best make haste for Braemere, but we will get you into some warm clothes first." Renaud glanced at Duncan one last time. The man's eyes were frozen open, staring skyward.
"How did you come to be here?" Aleysia asked her brother, who was already mounting his horse.
"I had been staying in a village near the border when I heard Duncan and his men pass. I followed you to the chapel, and when I realized what Duncan was about, I rode for Braemere. Thank God I did not have to travel far before I discovered Renaud and his men."
"Will you travel to Braemere with us?" she asked, needing him.
Adelstan looked past her to Renaud. "I do not know if it is safe."
"You will be safe, Adelstan," Renaud said. "I will see to it."
"First Aleysia must change out of the wet clothes." His men looked away while Renaud helped her out of the clinging, wet under tunic, and wrapped her in his fur-lined cloak.
Within seconds she was astride Renaud's mount. He settled behind her, and she snuggled up against his hard chest, finally relaxing. Her teeth chattered and he ran his hands up and down her arms, hoping to warm her.
"We're going home."
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. "Yes, let's go home."
CHAPTER 21
Aleysia had fallen fast asleep in Renaud's arms, and when she woke the next morning, she could scarcely remember the journey at all.
Renaud was not in the chamber, but he had called for a bath; the steam rose off the water, enticing her to step in.
She was disappointed that she had not talked to Adelstan last night. In their urgency to reach Braemere there had not been time for idle chatter. They had ridden as hard as their mounts could carry them, and thankfully, Duncan's men had not pursued them. Only one had gotten away. The others lay near Duncan's body in the forest.
She shivered, remembering how close the Scot had come to raping her. The one man her father had trusted to care for both her and Adelstan. Their father would be horrified to learn his friend had betrayed them all so badly.
At least Duncan was no longer a threat to her or her brother.
But that did not mean Duncans people would not want vengeance.
Whatever the case, she would put it from her mind for now. She instead was anxious to see Renaud and her brother.
She dressed in a light blue kirtle with a delicate silver girdle Elena had given to her. Securing the cloak about her shoulders, she tied it, and stepped out in the drafty hallway.
The bailey was alive with activity and she smiled at a young boy who held a basket of freshly cut flowers. He handed her one, and she bent down and kissed the top of his dark head, thinking he could very well look like her son, if she and Renaud had a child. The boy's cheeks turned bright red as she stared. She had not had her menses yet and she wondered if even now Renaud's baby grew in her womb.