Connie Mason (12 page)

Waldo was so close now she smelled the foulness of his wine-soaked breath. She gagged and turned away. Waldo grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger in a hurtful grip and forced her to look at him.

“Name the coward you are protecting, Raven, ere I beat his name out of you.”

“Did you beat my sister, Waldo?” Raven challenged. “Did you kill her when she displeased you?”

His beady eyes blazing with fury, he hauled his hand back and slapped her. The stunning blow sent Raven crashing to the floor. He bent to lift her for more of his abuse, but Raven,
still in control of her senses despite her reeling head, rolled across the rushes to escape his heavy hand.

“I know who you fornicated with,” Waldo bellowed, lumbering after her. “ ’Twas my bastard brother! You fornicated with him beneath my very nose. I will kill him. Right after I kill you.”

Raven searched frantically for a weapon. In his drunken rage, she feared Waldo would make good his threat. She rolled away again, and suddenly the pitcher she had flung at Drake earlier, the one he had caught and placed on the floor, lay within her grasp. Curling her hand around the handle, she held her breath as Waldo bent forward to drag her to her feet. Expelling a whoosh of air, she brought the earthenware pitcher down on Waldo’s head, shattering it into a hundred pieces. His stunned gaze met her own elated one, and then he collapsed in a boneless heap on top of her.

Raven shoved him off her, leaped to her feet, and slowly backed away. When Waldo did not move, she skirted him and ran to her clothes chest. Dragging out the first gown she laid her hands on, she dressed quickly and pulled on her sturdiest shoes. When Waldo still did not move, she shook a pillow free from its casing and filled the pillowcase with all the clothing she could stuff into it. Then, despite the warm weather, she threw a dark, fur-lined cloak around her shoulders and edged toward the door.

As she passed Waldo’s prone body, she wondered if she had killed him. She did not like him but she did not wish him dead. It would be a heavy burden to bear. Gathering her courage, she bent and placed a hand on his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath her palm relieved her of all guilt. With grim purpose, she slipped out the door and noiselessly descended the spiral staircase.

She paused at the foot of the stairs and listened a moment to the snoring and snorting of the men sleeping in the hall. Torches placed in sconces around the hall provided sufficient
light for Raven to ascertain that all was quiet. Rather than leave by the main entrance and risk discovery, she skirted the hall and exited through a door used by servants to bring food in from the kitchen.

No one was stirring in the inner bailey. Inebriated guests and men-at-arms were sprawled against the keep wall and curtain wall. Raven slipped around the snoring men and approached the stables. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it deserted but for the horses.

With quiet efficiency, Raven saddled her favorite mare and led her from the stables. No one stopped her. The guard at the gate was slumped against his post, sleeping off the wedding ale. She did not mount her horse until she had passed through the barbican and crossed the drawbridge that had been lowered to allow the visiting jousters to return to their campsites outside the castle walls.

Sober now and in complete control of his mind, Drake found himself mercilessly plagued by his conscience. He had abused the chivalric oath he had taken and was deeply troubled by his dishonorable act. He had allowed his quest for vengeance to blur his judgment. What he had done to Raven was unconscionable. Furthermore, only a coward would have left Raven to face Waldo’s rage alone. He was not proud of what he had done. The Black Knight had performed many scandalous deeds in his life, but never had he dishonored a lady.

Cold sweat popped out on his brow. What would Waldo do to Raven when he discovered she had no maidenhead? Cursing himself for a fool, Drake quickly changed from his wedding finery and roused his squire from his bed.

“Awaken the men,” Drake ordered crisply when the sleepy-eyed lad appeared. “I want them ready to ride when I return.”

“ ’Tis still dark, my lord, and the men have imbibed freely at the wedding feast,” Evan said.

“Rouse them anyway, Evan. We may be required to leave in haste.”

Evan gave him a puzzled look. “Where do you go, my lord?”

“I left unfinished business behind in the keep,” Drake bit out. “Go now.”

Drake had decided to return to the keep to save Raven from Waldo’s rage. He did not want to kill his brother if he did not have to. No matter what he did, though, he would doubtless be declared an outlaw by his king and country. But honor demanded that he offer Raven his protection. If that meant abducting her to keep her safe, so be it.

Drake recalled Raven’s sweet response to his seduction and felt himself growing hard. Her body, everything about her, was perfection. He had not expected to take such enjoyment in her womanly charms. Not even experienced women had satisfied him as Raven had tonight. And how had he repaid her? By stealing her virginity and leaving her to suffer the consequences. Honor demanded that he make amends. The least he could do was to make it possible for her to flee to Scotland. He would offer Sir John as escort.

The thunder of pounding hooves caught Drake’s straying attention and he reached for his sword. The moon hung high in the sky, bathing the ground in silvery shadows. Drake squinted through the darkness and nearly lost the ability to speak when he recognized both the horse and rider. Upon the back of a pure white mare sat a woman whose rich chestnut hair gleamed darkly in the moonlight.

Raven.

Drake’s brow furrowed with concern as he waited for her to reach him. He had no idea what had taken place after he’d left her bedchamber, but his imagination conjured up several unpleasant scenarios. Not one of them pictured Raven riding into his camp well after the hour of matins.

Raven brought her mare to a halt and Drake reached up to lift her from the saddle.

“What happened? Where is Waldo?”

“Lying on the floor of the bridal chamber.” She paused, squinting up at him. “He knows.” Her voice was flat, devoid of all emotion.

“He knows?” Drake repeated dumbly.

“Aye, I told him I was not the innocent he expected and he flew into a rage.”

“You told him? He did not find out for himself?” The thought that Waldo had bedded Raven after Drake had made love to her had caused him a wealth of anguish. Her words seemed to soothe the pain.

“I did not want him touching me.”

“Was he sober enough to know what you were telling him?”

“Aye.” She touched her cheek. “He did not take it well, so I bashed him with the water pitcher. He was unconscious when I left. With luck, he will not stir until we are well away.”

Drake’s eyebrows rose sharply upward. “
We?
Are you including me, my lady?”

“Waldo knows ’twas you. He knew there could be no other and has vowed to kill you.”

Drake searched her face. It was half-concealed by shadows and he could not see it clearly. “Did the bastard hurt you?”

Raven lifted her chin, giving Drake a clear view of her face. “Not enough to stop me from bashing him. He will kill me if he finds me.”

Drake saw the darkening bruise on her cheek and rage seethed through him. He reached out and gently caressed the bruise. “Nay, he will not kill you, Raven of Chirk. I will not let him.”

Her eyes darkened with unbridled fury. “Tell me no lies, Black Knight, for I will not believe them. You left me to face
Waldo’s wrath alone, and for that I will never forgive you. You knew he might slay me and yet you left me to face his fury alone. You owe me your escort to my aunt’s home in Edinburgh.”

“Believe what you will, Raven, but I intended to return to the keep to make amends for what I did to you. I was going to help you flee. Now that you are here, Sir John will escort you to Scotland.”

“ ’Tis a bit late for your conscience to make an appearance, Drake of Windhurst,” Raven said with rancor.

Evan’s arrival forestalled Drake’s answer. “The men are making ready to ride, my lord.” He gave Raven a sidelong glance. “Will the lady accompany us?”

“Nay,” Drake said. “Send Sir John to me posthaste.”

Evan sprinted off to do Drake’s bidding.

Raven fidgeted nervously, casting furtive glances over her shoulder. “Waldo will awaken soon, and I do not wish to be anywhere near when he does.”

Men were moving about now, preparing for their departure. Drake guided Raven away from the commotion so he could speak privately to her.

“Sir John will give you escort to Scotland. ’Tis the best I can offer. Unfortunately I cannot offer my own services, for I am needed at Windhurst.”

Sir John strode up to join them, saw Raven, and blinked in surprise. “Evan said you wished to speak with me.”

“Aye, John. You know Lady Raven, I believe.”

“Aye. Please excuse my bad manners, my lady. I am surprised to find you here at this late hour.”

“There is scant time to lose, John,” Drake said, jumping into the silence left by Raven’s embarrassment. “Lady Raven has urgent need of an escort to Edinburgh. I offered your services.”

John sent Drake a disapproving look. “I knew no good would come of this night,” he said sourly.

Raven let out a wounded cry. The sound made Drake cringe, for he knew he was the cause of her distress.

“I am sorry, Raven. Sir John knows everything.”

“E-everything?”

“Aye.” He returned his attention to John, avoiding Raven’s murderous glare. “What say you, John? Will you escort Lady Raven to Edinburgh?”

“You are not thinking clearly,” John chided. “Am I right in assuming that Raven is fleeing from her husband?”

“You are right, of course,” Drake concurred. “She must leave immediately, before Waldo rouses his men-at-arms. Should Duff decide to join him, we will be sadly outnumbered.”

“Am I also correct in assuming that Waldo knows what, er . . . happened in the lady’s bridal chamber tonight?”

“Damn it, man, speak your piece.”

John turned his attention to Raven. “Lady Raven, does Waldo suspect you might flee to Scotland?”

“Duff would know if Waldo does not. I sought permission to visit my aunt after Duff betrothed me to Waldo. He knew I disliked Waldo and would try to seek my aunt’s protection. He denied my request and refused to let me leave the keep unaccompanied.”

John nodded sagely, then returned his attention to Drake. “Edinburgh will be the first place Waldo will look for his wife. Think you he will let anyone keep him from Raven? Nay, Drake, Waldo has legal right to take his wife back into his custody.”

Drake massaged his throbbing temples, wondering how in God’s name he had allowed himself to take Raven’s virginity. Honor now demanded that he make amends. He had hoped that sending her to Scotland with an escort would suffice, but instead his life was becoming more complicated by the minute.

“I wish to go to Edinburgh,” Raven said firmly.

Drake sighed wearily. “John is right. Waldo will find you within a sennight, and when he claims you your punishment will be severe. Is that what you want?”

“Your concern is touching,” Raven said with a touch of sarcasm. “Unfortunately it comes too late. Should my aunt and her husband be unable to protect me, you need not worry, for you will have done your part in getting me there.”

Drake did not like the sound of that at all. Abruptly he came to a decision he feared he would live to regret. “You will not go to Scotland.”

Raven set her mouth in stubborn lines. “I
will
go.”

“You are my responsibility. You would not be in this predicament had I not acted unwisely. Had I not interfered, Waldo would have taken your maidenhead as was his right, and you would be his wife in every way.”

Raven’s expression grew mutinous. “Aye, and I would have hated every moment of it. Mayhap you did me a favor, Drake of Windhurst.”

Drake chuckled mirthlessly. “And mayhap I did myself
no
favor.”

He glanced at the bulging pillowcase tied to her saddle horn. “I see you came prepared. Good. We ride for Windhurst immediately.”

“Windhurst! Nay. North to Scotland.” She mounted her mare and tried to wheel her around, but Drake grasped the reins.

“Hurry the men along, John,” Drake ordered crisply. “And send Sir Richard to me. I have a special assignment for him. Dawn is fast approaching and the servants will soon be stirring. We must be away before Waldo awakens and cries the alarm.”

Distraught, Raven made a futile attempt to wrest the reins from Drake’s hands. She did not want to go to Windhurst. Drake had made it clear that she was naught but an imposition, a burden he had not planned on. Why had he
suddenly found a conscience, she wondered, when it had not bothered him while he was making love to her? He had stolen her innocence and left her to face the consequences alone. As a child she had loved the black-hearted devil, only then he was sweet and kind and honorable. She would have accompanied Drake to Windhurst, and gladly, had he not made it clear that she was naught but a penance he had to bear to atone for his sin.

Raven glanced toward the keep and saw pinpoints of light moving through the darkness. “Torches.” Her warning captured Drake’s attention.

“God’s blood! Waldo has awakened and called out the guards.”

“To Windhurst!” Drake cried, spurring his mount.

Raven felt her mare jerk forward and realized that Drake still held her reins. Soon she was riding hard, away from Castle Chirk, away from Waldo, and toward a new life with a man who had used her as an object of revenge against his brother and now considered her a trial he must bear for his sins.

They rode south across the moors and plains throughout the remainder of the night and far into the morning. Raven was so hungry her stomach felt as if it were touching her backbone. They had just crossed a shallow creek when Drake finally called a halt to water and rest their horses, and to prepare the wild game his huntsmen had bagged during their march southward. Raven saw no signs indicating that they were being followed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She did not relish another encounter with Waldo, for the next time she knew she would not escape unscathed.