Defiant Surrender (13 page)

“Ahh, so you did see me that night,” he sighed, the sound one of remorse and regret. “I never slept with the wench, Madeline. I’ll admit that I tried. But ’twould seem I did not have the stomach to follow through.” He laughed. “Let me declare with all honesty, there was another I wanted in my bed, and it was not her.”

Like a schoolgirl on the eve of her first kiss, she grinned knowing William was deadly serious.
Maddie swallowed, her throat parched as his gaze heated. “Well then, my lord, I suggest we start as friends and go from there. Does that meet with your approval?”

“Naught would I agree to more, ma chère. Over the past months, you have shown yourself to be a woman of loyalty and kindness. A woman I had not thought existed.” William picked up her hand and kissed it. “I would like to get to know you, Lady Madeline, if you would allow.”

Maddie’s heart stumbled. He was in earnest. He was a man of pride and principles, if she excluded his past faults. And she would love to get to know him. Find out all there was to know about the Baron of Kingston, their homes, people and land.

She cleared her throat of the lump lodged there. “I’d like that, too,” she said, as a drop of rain splashed against her cheek.

“’Twould be best to return, the weather looks to change,” William said, looking to the west.

Maddie looked up at the sky and noticed the ominous clouds blowing toward them. “Yes, we’d better.”

“Would you care to trot? I will not allow you to fall,” William said.

Maddie calculated how far they had to travel home, then looked back to the storm billowing behind them. “I’m not sure,” she replied as she patted her horse’s neck. Felt the whip of its tail slice across her leg for her effort. She pursed her lips and weighed up her options. She could either walk all the way back to the castle, arrive drenched, or she could throw caution to the wind and give it a go. Trust in her husband’s words that he would look after her.

“Why not?” she asked, shrugging. “Lead on, my lord.”

William leant across and kissed her. Her hand stole to his cheek before he pulled away. The swirling pool of heat in his eyes, masked an inferno her body recognized well.

“It seems my lady wife is brave.”

Maddie shivered when he spoke, his breath, fragrant of mint, caressing her cheek. The compliment warmed her against the imminent storm and its cold wind.

As they cleared the beach, Maddie urged her horse into a trot, happy with her small progress. William kept close by her side, had to grab her only once when she lurched too far one way, and nearly toppled off.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maddie caught the flash of grey in the woods. She squinted as she tried to make out what exactly she thought she saw. Whatever it was, it did not seem to be there now. Perhaps the wind played tricks, or an animal ran for cover. The weather turned for the worst and branches and leaves blew up and whipped at their faces. Maddie turned as she caught the movement once more, this time followed by a whizzing sound. She stilled before some inbuilt sense of foreboding made her lunge forward on her horse.

She gasped as an arrow came directly toward her. The next few seconds played like a movie in slow motion. The arrow thumped into her arm, popped out the other side like some special effect gone wrong. She looked down at it, not comprehending what she saw. What she didn’t want to see.

A metallic taste settled in her mouth as she heard William curse from afar. She was going to faint. A
s her breath hitched, she realized she was still on her horse. She clasped her arm. Someone had just fired an arrow at her, and it was now stuck there.

Oh God, that meant they would have to pull it out. Maddie swallowed. That one thought was enough to make her decline into darkness. A welcome darkness where there was no pain, no anything. She didn’t acknowledge the ground as it came up to greet her.

*

William froze before fear for Madeline took over his uncomprehending mind. He jumped from his horse and swore as he ran to her. She lay partially under her mount’s hooves. The horse stood above her in a protective gesture, as if it could save her from further assailants. He gently pushed Eurus away. He did not move her, for fear of injury. He checked her neck. Thanked God it was not broken. She breathed calmly and regularly. A good sign. As for her arm, this was a different matter. He frowned as blood oozed from the wound, the arrowhead clear through both her flesh and
woolen gown. He only hoped that when they removed it, it would not bleed excessively. He had lost many a good man to innocent looking wounds.

He scraped her hair from her face, sighed in relief as she murmured his name. Her face, bleached of
color, took his attention back to her wound. He tore his shirt and made a tourniquet around her arm. It would do for now.

“Madeline, can you hear me?”

She did not answer. He had to get her home, keep her safe, warm and out of the gusting wind. Her dress and cloak were no protection against such a storm. He could only pray she did not succumb to fever, as such wounds had a tendency to turn septic. He swallowed the bile that rose in his gullet. He would not think such things. He would not lose her.

William scooped her up and ignored his inner warning that whoever had shot at her may still be around. He looked toward the trees and could see no one. It was not a comfort. He could only hope, since they had hit their prey, they would have crawled back to the hovel they called home. One he would find soon enough.

He mounted his horse and settled her as best he could. Madeline whimpered in unconscious pain and anger tore through him like a sword. How dared someone hurt her? Try to kill his wife. He turned his horse toward Aimecourt and kicked his mount hard into a full gallop.

His horse, as if sensing its master’s distress, needed no urging, knew what it must do. As the gatehouse came into view, William yelled for the sentries to open the drawbridge. His horse never lost stride as he galloped within the outer bailey walls. Sir Alex ran down from the battlements and met him at the doors of the keep.

“She’s been shot,” William said, as he watched his knight pale when he looked at the wound.

“Pass her to me, my lord,” Sir Alex said, his arms outstretched.

William settled her into Sir Alex’s embrace while he dismounted. Serfs and servants stopped to stare. Women with concerned faces, the men’s set in hard lines of revenge. William understood their emotions and welcomed their support. Whoever had done this to her, his wife, their mistress, would pay.

He walked up to Sir Alex and gently took Madeline back
in his arms, just as Mistress Rhode burst through the keep’s main doors.

“This way, m’lord,” Mistress Rhode yelled. She barked orders for clean linens and hot water to be brought to the Lady Madeline’s chamber as they passed the great hall. Staff scurried to do her bidding. Knew by the worried expression, which covered all their visages, that Lady Madeline was in trouble.

William followed her up the stairs, waited as Mistress Rhode pulled the sheets down on his wife’s bed. Dread pooled in his soul. He shuddered over the thought of what they were about to do to her. Unconscious she may be, but the pain they would soon inflict could possibly pull her out of that comfort. He settled her as best he could.

William stepped back as water and bandages soon arrived. All set out close to the bed, close to the ghastly wound that sat open and mangled and could kill her. Mistress Rhode, who seemed very apt in such situations, requested one of the maids to fetch her medicine basket.

“M’lord, come.” Mistress Rhode gestured him forward. “I need you to cut away her clothes, while I prepare to remove the arrow.

William cut away her mantle, pulled it out from beneath her. The dress, made of fabric the same
color as the ocean, was soon ruined by his ministrations. As he prepared to cut in and around the arrow, he sent his men out. He did not want anyone but himself to see her stripped of decency.

His conscience pricked as he gazed down at the small, limp form in the bed, a bed too large for one person. How could he have made her sleep here alone these past months? A good woman, who deserved better than his treatment of her. William could only hope he had the opportunity to tell her so and to right his wrongs.

He promised himself that should she survive, he would never treat her in such a way again. He picked up her hand, so cold and pale, and frowned. There was no doubt he had feelings for this woman. His wife and supposed enemy; an enemy no longer.

When had he recogniz
ed the emotion that had settled in his chest, for what it was? It was more than esteem, like or admiration, although he held all of those things for her. Comprehension dawned like the rising sun of the east. It warmed his soul and heated his blood. Even if he could not form the words at this time, he would someday.

The thought that he may lose her today, this very night, made him rage against the world. She had not deserved such a callous attack. A woman unarmed, out riding with her husband. He would kill the villain who dared try to take her away from him. That he could promise.

He looked at Sir Alex, the only knight left in the room and walked over to him. “Take thirty men. Search the woods two miles east of here. Where the track leads to the shore; it happened there. Someone aimed at her from the forest. She must have caught a movement before the arrow struck, because she turned.” He rubbed his jaw and swallowed. “It was the only thing that saved her. It would have been a clean shot to the heart otherwise,” William stated with a shudder.

“Lord William, if you please, we need to remove the arrow,” Mistress Rhode said from the bed.

He frowned. He didn’t want to hurt Madeline. At least with it lodged in her arm, she lived. What if they pulled it out and she bled to death?

“Yes, m’lord,” Sir Alex, replied.

William nodded in acknowledgement as his knight clasped his shoulder in support, his eyes steadfast on his wife.

“If you find whoever did this, kill them—slowly.” William’s voice brooked no argument.

“I understand,” Sir Alex answered.

William watched as Sir Alex strode from the room, yelling orders as he went. He looked back to Madeline and noted the dark circles beneath her eyes. They were losing her. He swallowed and prayed she lived. He came and sat beside her on the bed. What they were about to do had brought tears to the eyes of the strongest men. He watched as she fought for consciousness each time her maid pressed or touched her mangled flesh. He prayed to God not to let her wake before they pulled the arrow from her arm.

He wished he could swap places with her. He would do anything for her at this moment should it lessen her pain. He strove for calm, needed to keep his head clear, uncomplicated by the feelings he had for his wife.

“Hold her firmly, my lord.”

He nodded. Leant over Madeline and secured the one shoulder he could, his other hand hard against her hip. He watched as Mistress Rhode cut the arrowhead away. It enabled them to pull it back out the way it came. He stole a look at Madeline and stilled at her beauty. His hand stole to her cheek where he touched the softest skin he’d ever known.

Mistress Rhode touched his shoulder. “Ready, my lord?”

“Ready,” he replied, his attention steady on Madeline.

Mistress Rhode clasped beneath the wound and pulled at the arrow. Madeline jerked under him, and a scream that chilled his blood rent the air.

Madeline pushed at them. “Stop. Please stop! It hurts,” she said, sobbing.

“Shhh, ma chère. ’Twill be quick. I promise.” William stroked her hair and held her gaze until the fear and panic disappeared from her eyes. “We need to get the arrow out. Now.”

Madeline nodded, her lower lip trembling, no doubt in fear. “Okay.” She paused and took a calming breath. “Do it. But do it now, before I change my mind.”

Mistress Rhode placed a piece of circular wood between Madeline’s teeth. “Bite down on this m’lady. ‘Twill help with the pain.”

William frowned and held her still. Madeline’s eyes closed as the arrow pulled free. Only the slightest whimper signified the pain she experienced. His respect for her increased tenfold. A strong woman. The woman for him. He, on the other hand, made the mistake of looking at the wound. He paled.

Mistress Rhode kept calm as she placed another tourniquet around Madeline’s arm. Madeline, he saw, winced as the bandage tightened. A maid held the dressing tight, while Mistress Rhode poured water over the entrance and exit wounds. His fists clenched as tears streaked down his wife’s cheeks. To clean a wound of such magnitude would be unbearably painful. He leaned forward as she went limp.

“She is well, m’lord. She has slipped into unconsciousness once more, that is all. It is the least of our concerns,” Mistress Rhode said

He swallowed; sweat beaded his skin.

“If she bleeds when the tourniquet comes off, there will be nothing I can do, m’lord. We can only pray the vein that has been punctured will clot.” She frowned as she packed clean swabs of cloth against Madeline’s wounds.

“We need to leave the wound open to heal. If the bleeding does not stop…” A moment passed. “We may have to cauterize the wound. I’m sorry, m’lord.”

“How long before we know?” he rasped, his throat tight, his mind a whirl of anxiety. They would find a way in which to save her. He would not lose her now.