Forbidden (32 page)

Reaching her bedchamber, she hurried Elyne
through the door, and for the first time in her life here at
Raptor, shut the door with such force it made a hearty slam.

“I do not know which man is the most fearful,
your father or your brother. For certes, I cannot trust either one.
I must persuade Ranald to send me to Letia’s afore Hunter Castle’s
siege.”

“What if he says nay? Ye must have a plan in
case he denies it.” Elyne paced around the room, shaking her head.
“I canna ken Ranald being so brutal, though truth be told, were I a
man I would not think it harsh. Rupert’s cruelty is well
known.”

“Sir Giric seems most courtly. Do you think I
could trust him to escort me to Letia’s should Ranald refuse? I
cannot stay here with the laird.”

“Hmpf. I dinna trust Father either. He tore
Ranald from the abbey solely to be a husband to ye. He required his
seed for an heir.” She sighed and shook her head. “I think if the
babe is a girl, Father wouldna keep Ranald from doing as he
promised. He would still need him to, umm, plant another seed.
Hopefully a male child the next time.”

“It’s disgusting. I am naught to them but a
breeding mare hopefully carrying a lusty stallion.” Catalin climbed
the two steps to the side of the bed and plopped back on it, her
arms outstretched, hitting the bedding in anger. “Be most careful
of any man’s attentions, Elyne. And if he declares his undying love
and prevails with his words that it is right and proper to lie with
you before the vows, kick his randy arse from the...”

Oh, Saints! Had Elyne noted she spoke of
Moridac? Hearing Elyne clear her throat, she had.

“Mayhap ye should drop a hint to Sir Giric
and see if he would chance helping ye? It may not be possible to
ask his aid once the siege plans are set in motion.” Elyne sat on
the edge of the bed.

It was two stressful days later afore Catalin
chanced to be close enough to Sir Giric that she did not look to be
seeking him out.

o0o

Fortunately, the weather cleared soon after
Ranald left the abbey and turned Satan’s Spawn toward Raptor
Castle.

He thought long and hard over Abbot Aymer’s
advice as he rode for home. The abbot had been hesitant at first,
but then confided to Ranald that once he too had been married to a
beautiful woman.

One lone night, he and his men had ridden out
to drive raiders from burning a close-by village. It had been
naught but a lure for his enemy to steal into his keep and abduct
his wife. He would gladly have paid any ransom to have her back,
but it was not to be. His sweet love had fled from her abductor and
tumbled down the stone stairway, breaking her neck.

On learning of it, he had gone on an orgy of
killing for which he spent the rest of his life doing penance.

No doubt, the abbot meant Ranald to take a
different lesson from his story, but Ranald decided a cautious man
kept his wife where he could see her. He did not trust his father,
and truth be told, he knew it was best he not allow himself to love
Catalin.

His brow furrowed, his eyes squinted,
thinking on it. It was with some surprise when he noted the
frightened looks of an old man and his son pushing a small barrow
of peat. They scurried so close to the slope bordering the road
they near tumbled into the muddy ground alongside. Not until the
lad’s whisper of “Raptor” floated to him did he ken why. Hmpf. He
must be growing a thicker hide, for it didn’t bother him.

Later that day when he arrived at the keep,
he had reason to think himself wrong. He was still batting the dust
from his tunic as he entered the great hall and found his wife so
close to a man she looked about to embrace him.

“Sir Giric, you will be richly rewarded for
your help.” Uneasy, Catalin stepped back a pace. She did not care
for the triumphant gleam in his regard on hearing her proposal.

He quickly shuttered his eyes and advanced a
step, so close now his leg brushed against her skirts. She edged
away again.

“I dinna seek rewards for helping a beauteous
lady.”

His hand stole around to her nape and stroked
slowly down her back. She near jumped out of her kirtle.

He grunted after her elbow rammed his ribs.
She glared at him, before again moving to put distance between
them.

“Keep your hands to yourself, sir,” she
hissed through her teeth. Her fingers flexed, wishing to strike out
at him. “I do not seek a man for any purpose other than safe escort
to King Stephen’s court. It is best you understand that.”

Giric, his hands held high, waved them back
and forth before clasping them behind his back. “Forgive me, Lady.
I meant no disrespect.”

Huh. His eyes told her different. They edged
from her face to her breasts thrusting against her kirtle. What
ailed the man to look on an increasing woman with such interest?
She frowned, realizing the boisterous room had quieted.

She stretched her neck to peer around his
formidable body. Her gaze collided with Ranald’s scowl. Framed in
the doorway, her husband appeared larger than life with his head
held high, his squinted eyes and firm jaw leaving no doubt of his
displeasure at seeing her talking with another man. Drat him. His
mind leapt to conclude she had sought Sir Giric’s company. Well,
saints, it was true. But not for the purpose of, of, um…certainly
not for the purpose Ranald thought.

She stared down at her shifting feet. Ack!
What was she doing? Looking guilty, that’s what. She flung her head
up and squared her shoulders. She had naught to feel guilt about.
Protecting her unborn babe from two foolish men determined to take
it from her justified her intent to flee her husband.

She pasted a wifely smile on her face. Mayhap
Ranald would agree to see her to Letia’s for safety, whilst he
proceeded with the siege of Hunter Castle. She would far prefer
it.

She watched him walk, nay, not walk, it was
more like stalking with the fierce expression on his determined
face, toward her. People parted before him, giving him a clear
path. How could so large a man move with such grace? His broad
shoulders filled his long-sleeved, black tunic. No cloth could hide
the powerful muscles beneath it.

His clothing did conceal much, though. ‘Twas
like his face, one side so comely she fought the urge to stroke her
fingertips over it, while the other side was dangerous, hidden. His
body was the same. Her mouth went dry thinking of his beautiful,
muscled chest dusted with crisp, black hair narrowing over the hard
slab of his belly. In the dark shadows of their room, she had
trailed her hands down the bunching muscles of his back, over all
the crisscrossed scars there. Her fingers had traveled down to
grasp his buttocks, loving the restrained power as they flexed and
relaxed with his thrusts.

Oh, saints. Heat filled her. The plump
juncture of her thighs throbbed and dampened. She shifted her feet
again, near crossing her legs. Mayhap he would only think she’d had
too much to drink and needed relief.

Ranald stood in front of her, his scowl every
bit as mean as before, but his head tilted in question. Well, Hell.
Had he known what she and Sir Giric had been talking about? For
truth, his hearing could not be as keen as the raptor people called
him.

“You are well, husband?” Catalin’s voice
squeaked when his strong fingers grasped her elbow. They softened
as he hauled her from Giric’s side up against his own.

“I am well. And ye, wife? The bairn
thrives?”

Did he suffer an infection? His body heat was
feverish. He had left the keep after sending her from the room when
he bathed. Mayhap he had sustained an injury not yet healed. She
tilted her head back to study his face.

His stony gaze bored into Sir Giric’s eyes.
Saints! If a look could be felt, the young knight would have
bruises around his eyes every bit as dark as from a fisted hand.
Why, Ranald’s high body heat was anger. If she did not know better,
she would venture to think he was jealous.

“Ranald, where have ye been?” Elyne came
close to buffet her brother on the shoulder, turning his attention
from Sir Giric.

Catalin watched the knight slip away, making
haste to leave the room. More fool he, if he thought Ranald did not
note. He did. His nostrils flared and his narrowed gaze followed
the man until he disappeared from sight.

“Away.” Ranald looked at Elyne, his voice
thoughtful.

“Aye. We knew that since ye were not here. Ye
have become a man of few words.” Elyne grinned up at him.

“Ye asked. I answered. What more needs be
said?” Ranald’s left brow arched.

“Well, now, ye could say ye were hunting, or
that ye were riding Satan’s Spawn and fairies lured ye to their
fern castle and had their way with ye. Or ye can tell us where ye
truly went.” Elyne pinched his arm. She laughed in surprise when
she could not grasp his firm flesh.

“Kelso.” He nodded at Raik, who came up in
back of Elyne. “All was well with Egan’s burial?”

“Aye,” Raik answered.

Elyne rolled her eyes at Catalin. “One word
answers must be a sickness caught by men. Father Martin’s mass was
most soothing, Ranald. All seeing Egan laid out for viewing said he
looked to be asleep. His widow was much comforted for she had
feared to look upon him until Catalin assured her he looked most
peaceful.

“Did that not mean, aye, all went well with
Egan’s burial?” Ranald peered down at Elyne. A slight twitch showed
at the corners of his mouth.

“True.” Elyne nodded, her face serious.

“Come?” Catalin shrugged from Ranald’s side
and held her hand out to Elyne.

“Surely.” Elyne stuck her tongue out at
Ranald as she and Catalin made their way over to sit with Joneta
and Hannah.

o0o

“All weapons have been gathered and counted?”
Ranald asked as he nodded toward the solar door and started towards
it.

“Aye. The armorer and his helpers have been
busy from sun up to sun down. The squires have worked like busy
ants to check hauberks, shields, chain mail and helmets. The men
have seen all swords, axes, picks, daggers, maces, hammers and
other weapons sharpened. The blacksmith’s hammers ring out well
into the night.”

“The men using crossbows and longbows? Have
the archers been practicing? I want no arrows wasted by landing
short of their man.” Ranald frowned, thinking of the distance
needed to reach men atop the battlements. The defenders had the
advantage of added height.

Sir Domnall answered as Ranald strolled into
the solar. “Aye. We’ve crossbow bolts aplenty. Cormac has the
archers going over every inch of their bows for cracks, splinters
or chips on the notches. They gathered arrows together in bundles
of twenty and five. Dinna be surprised if chickens, geese, and
anything else with a feather, squawk and scurry away on sight of
the fletcher.”

Ranald near smiled at the picture.

Chief Broccin hitched up his belt around his
still-trim middle, straddled a stool and reached for an apple
amongst the fruit piled at the center of the table. “Angus has seen
that all horses have adequate shoes. Ye best check that beast of
yer own.”

“Lady Joneta and I are going through the
storage rooms with Cook,” Brodie, the man who took charge of the
food when they were away from the keep, said. “We will have ample
supplies. The harvest is plentiful this year and the vegetable
gardens are flourishing. We should be able to replenish supplies as
we need them.”

“That leaves battering rams and trebuchets.”
Raik frowned. Pulling the unwieldy siege engines was the most
difficult part of any battle preparation. He paced the solar like a
hound impatient for the hunter to set him free.

“Aye. The oxen are fat and healthy. It’s
about time they earned their food.” Broccin grunted and took a
large, crackling bite of the apple. Juice ran down his chin, and he
scrubbed it away with the back of his hand. As he chewed, his
calculating gaze studied Ranald like he tried to search his
mind.

“What?” Ranald was tired of people’s gazes on
him. He would welcome the dark of his bedchamber.

“Yer wife?” The laird took another bite,
talking as he chewed. “Have ye questioned the little spitfire about
Hunter Castle’s layout? She has only to see me and she darts around
a corner, her red hair and bright clothing looking like one of
those barn cats with all shades of color on their backs. She takes
off like she’s running before the hounds.” He wiped his chin on his
sleeve.

“And ye wonder why?” Ranald could not believe
the innocent look his father returned in reply.

No doubt, Catalin feared his sire would prove
the bairn a bastard. He would not allow his father to make him a
fool by having one and all know his wife presented him with his
brother’s get.

They sat there in the solar going over all
the battle preparations. Darkness had long since fallen by the time
they assured themselves that all men and equipment, and what they
needed to sustain them, was accounted for.

Ranald stretched, relieving his stiff
muscles. He thought with longing about the luxury of a hot bath. He
shook his head. Last year at this same time, he wouldn’t
have
thought twice about bathing with cold water.

He must be getting soft.

o0o

Catalin eyed the buckets setting close to the
fireplace. She’d had the servants build a small fire, for she knew
Ranald did not like a warm room. Whilst he had been away, she had
enjoyed the lit fireplace, for the sheets were too cold for her to
sleep comfortably without his big body to heat them.

She twisted her fingers together. While he
besieged her castle, what if he refused to allow her to leave
Raptor? She’d almost made herself dizzy darting around corners
avoiding his father. In the great hall, she hated the laird’s
calculating stare at her swelling breasts. Could a person judge
when a babe would be born by the growth of a woman’s breasts? Ada
said he was forever asking questions about her.