Heart's Ransom (Heart and Soul) (17 page)

The knight lifted his cup towards Talon.  “Let that be a lesson, my lord.  Never try to climb a tree in armor.”

Talon laughed heartily, returning the salute with his own cup.  “Your advice is well taken, sir.  I shall avoid trees, and garish hats, when mounted.”  He paused and winked at Gwen.  “But I fear I cannot avoid hauling beautiful women into my saddle.”

Gwen laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes.  “I pray you break that habit, sir, afore you find a dagger across your throat.”

“No worries about that, my lady, there is only one woman I wish to haul into my saddle and I already know how to disarm her.”  He leaned closer, his eyes sparking with innuendo.  “And I believe it is now as simple as a kiss.” 

Gwen blushed but returned his grin.  “Perhaps, my lord, but do not rest too comfortably on your laurels.”

Talon chuckled.  “With you, lady?  Never.”

The servants brought the meal, served in large trenchers.  A thick mutton stew with fresh vegetables from the garden.  More freshly baked bread was served with it.  Talon shared his trencher with her, allowing her first morsel.

Gwen was keenly aware of him, sitting so close that their shoulders brushed several times.  She could almost feel the heat radiating from his body.  Every so often he would lean close and whisper a comment in her ear about one of the stories.  His manner seemed relaxed, like a lion lounging over his domain but ready to leap at any moment.

Gwen also noticed that several times a page entered to speak to Marcus, sometimes forcing him to abandon his meal.  But as the constable of Montgomery it was his duty to deal with problems so his lord would not be interrupted.  Rarely there was something so great he could not handle it.  But when he returned to the great hall and strode straight to Talon, his jaw set in a grim line, Gwen knew something was amiss.

Marcus whispered in Talon’s ear.  “The crofter has returned....”

Talon’s face turned gray and Gwen’s heart lurched in alarm.

But he schooled his features into a cold expression.  Gwen recognized it instantly, his rage threatened to burn out of control.  The mask was held in place only with an iron grip on his will, the colder the mask, the hotter the rage.

“Pray pardon, my lady,” Talon said softly.  “There is something I must attend.  I shall return momentarily.”  He rose and followed Marcus out of the great hall.

Gwen watched him leave, her eyes narrowing.  It was time she got to the bottom of this intrigue.  She took a long drink of wine for courage and discreetly slipped away from the table, following Talon and Marcus.

Darkness covered the bailey; scattered torches in stanchions on the walls cast an eerie glow.  She saw the two shadows turn for the gardens.  Marcus stopped at the gate, his arms folded over his chest, the position of guard.  Talon continued onward, disappearing behind the garden walls.

Gwen waited for what seemed like an eternity.  She knew she could never slip past
Marcus.  A bit later a large man stepped from the gate and hurried away.  He must be the crofter she heard Marcus mention.  Marcus turned, speaking to someone hidden by the walls.  Gwen could only assume it was Talon.  Marcus nodded once, then twice, before returning to the keep.  Gwen stepped deeper into a shadow as he passed.  But she clearly saw the troubled expression on his face.  Marcus was devoted to Talon and something vexed him grievously.

Suddenly worried even more for Talon, Gwen hurried forward.  A torch at the garden gate was the only light, the depths cloaked in blackness.  She stepped forward, away from the light, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimness.

Twenty paces away, on a small bench, Talon sat with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed.  Gwen, her slippers silent on the grass, slowly approached.  In one hand Talon clutched a crumpled parchment, in the other a long lock of golden hair.  She heard a strange choked sound and saw his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Sweet Jesu, what was wrong?

Forgetting her worry that he would be infuriated with her intrusion.  Gwen hurried forward.  “Talon?  Dear Saints, Talon, what is it?”  She knelt next to him and cupped his face in her hands.

He looked at her startled but there was no sign of fury - only terrible grief.  A tear glistened on his cheek.  Suddenly he hauled her into his arms, nearly squeezing the breath from her, and buried his face in her hair, fighting back the sobs wrenching through him.

Gwen held him tightly, her hands stroking his hair, trying in vain to comfort him.  “Talon,” she whispered.  “What grievous thing has happened?”

He pulled away slightly, fighting to regain control of himself and gruffly wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.  “You asked me once--” his voice cracked and he sucked a deep breath.  He spoke so softly she could barely hear him.  “You asked me if the portrait was of Rose.  It is not.”  He held up the lock of golden hair.  “This is all I have of my Rose...my eight year old daughter.”

Shock blazed a mindless path through Gwen, leaving a riot of emotions in its wake.  Rose was his daughter?  The woman who tore Talon’s heart to shreds was his child not a lover?

I am a widower.

She stared at the lock of hair, appearing exactly as the woman’s hair in the portrait.  She battled to clear her thoughts, to make sense of this.

Talon gazed at her a long moment, his dark eyes liquid.  He gently but firmly took her hand in his.  “Come.  ‘Tis time you knew the truth of this.  I should have told you sooner.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she stood with him.

He stepped close, again burying his face in her hair, sliding his lips across her cheek to her ear in the most erotic fashion.  “We must speak privately,” he whispered.  “If anyone overhears us it could put Rose’s life in jeopardy.”

She nodded in understanding.  Talon moved to kiss her mouth, sending her senses spiraling.  But Gwen realized what he was doing.  If anyone was watching them, they would think them bent on a lovers tryst.  He was trying to divert attention.

Gripping her hand firmly, Talon led her inside the keep and up the stairs.  But he did not stop at his
solar; instead he turned for the tower and the room he had ordered her never to enter.

She ground to a halt.  “Talon--”

“I know,” he said softly.  “But it is the only place the servants avoid.  I cannot risk someone overhearing us.  I was wrong to be so harsh with you, Gwen.”

She took a deep breath and summoned her courage, following him up the stairs.  He unlocked the door and silently opened it, lighting a single candle in the corner then locking the door behind them.  He guided her to the divan and sat, his fingers firmly entangled with hers.

“’Tis only appropriate that we discuss this in the room where it all started,” he said bitterly.  “I married Eleanor ten years ago.”  He gestured to the covered portrait.  “She was the king’s ward and we were betrothed as children at his behest.  I saw her only three times before we were wed.”

He released her hand and rose, pacing the room.  “Her family was from London, rich and powerful, matching the earldom of Montgomery.  But her mother and father died when she was young.  Henry claimed her as his ward to keep her lands from falling to a cousin who enjoyed giving Henry grief.  She was raised to be a delicate lady, one of the
queen’s handmaidens, accustomed to the comfort of the king’s court, not the harsh life of the Marches.”

Gwen swallowed hard, not wanting to interrupt him but needing to ask one question.  “Did you love her?”

He snorted, still pacing.  “At the time...I thought I did.  I was young then, new to the knighthood and puffed up with my own importance.  She was as beautiful as the fair maidens of the chansons.  I was entranced with her appearance.  I thought only of the match we made, of escorting the most coveted maiden in the king’s court.  I never noted her soul.  Even after we were married I never truly understood.” 

He paused a long moment, his expression tormented and still slightly confused.  “Only now do I realize what a sham, what a disaster our marriage was.  ‘Tis why I rebuked you for so foolishly believing in those same chansons.  After we were married, I quickly discovered beauty and virtue did not exist side by side.” 

He hesitated and stared at her, his anguish so apparent in his eyes.  “I tried, Gwen, I tried so hard to make her happy, to be a good husband to her, to give her the home she wanted and needed.  It was my duty to take care of her no matter our relationship but I failed.”

She frowned in confusion.  How could Talon fail at anything like that?  “What happened?”

“Eleanor adored the lifestyle of the lavish court.  Montgomery, despite its wealth, was a boil on the backside of the devil’s arse as far as she was concerned.  I did not know until much later, but she never wanted to be married to me.  Apparently, my size and strength scared the hell out of her.  My enemies, jealous of the king’s regard for me, made certain rumor destroyed me in her eyes long before we spoke the vows.  My reputation at court for my ruthlessness in battle grew into sordid tales of debauchery and rape.”

Gwen’s eyes widened.  “Oh God.  Then on your wedding night....”

Talon nodded morosely.  “She cried, Gwen, she pleaded with me not to take her virtue and instead send her to a convent.  But in my male vanity I thought I could convince her otherwise.  I claimed my husband’s rights.  I was gentle, trying to show her how glorious it could be, but it ended in disaster.  I took her virtue and she demanded my self-respect in return.  After she left the room, I became physically ill when I realized what I had done.”

Gwen gaped at him.  She could not believe she was hearing this from him of all people.  But suddenly it all made sense, especially his reaction last night.  She crossed the room, gently
placing her hand on his arm.  “And what did you do, Talon, but make love to your wife?”

He blinked at her startled.

“There is always pain for a maiden, you know that.”

He stepped forward, towering over her, as if trying to intimidate her.  But Gwen refused to quail from him, instead she smiled.  If he thought that by intimidating her he could prove himself to be a brute, he was in for a surprise.

He touched her cheek and ran his fingers through her hair.  “I thought I had made the same terrible mistakes...that all I could do was visit pain upon a woman.”

“I know, Talon, but instead you granted me the greatest joy I have ever known.”

He drew in a deep breath, his shoulders straightening slightly.  His expression eased and she once again glimpsed the fire in his eyes.

“I understand something, Talon.  Perhaps you can consider it a woman’s point of view.  I was frightened
yester eve...anyone without knowledge or experience would be.  I imagine Eleanor was the same.  Unfortunately, instead of growing to know you, like I did, Eleanor allowed her fear to control her.”

Talon’s brows collided.  “What do you mean by growing to know me?”

“Talon, I was frightened but I was also reassured because I know you.  I trust you.  You would never hurt me.”

“But I did hurt you.”

“Saints blood,” she snapped, rolling her eyes.  “That doesn’t count because there is no getting around it.”  She paused, fighting back a wicked grin.  “Only getting through it.”

Surprisingly, his lips twitched.  He had to look away from her for a moment.  “Point taken, lady.”

She sighed, her humor vanishing.  “Talon, that night I put my faith in you.”  She gripped his hand tightly.  “And I was not disappointed.  Eleanor never gave you that faith, instead she allowed her fear to control her and because of that her fear came true.  To make matters worse, her fear infected both of you, and destroyed what should have been something very special.”

Talon turned away from her, remaining silent for a long time.  He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly.  Then he took a deep breath.  “I must finish this now or I never will.”

“Go on, please.”

“After...after our wedding night, I struggled to bed her, only doing so because it was my duty to get an heir on her.  Usually I had to be near blinding drunk to...perform.  But at the same
time, I refused to forsake my vows to her.  I could not take a mistress.  When I found out she was breeding I vow I had never been so relieved.  But in doing so, I damned her.”

“She died in childbirth?”

He shuddered and she stepped forward but he moved away, remaining stoically apart from her.  “A fortnight after.  Rose was late in coming.  She grew too large for her delicate mother.  Eleanor never recovered her strength and died when an infection settled in her womb.”

Gwen said nothing.  Again she stepped forward but this time, Talon remained motionless.  She reached up and gently pushed the hair back from his temple, stroking her fingers through the soft locks, waiting for him to continue.

“She died in this room.”  He turned, his arms sweeping outward.  “This was the place she selected to hide from me,” he said bitterly.  “She refused to sleep in my bed at night, only joining me when I insisted and only long enough for me to complete the act.  Then she would flee here and lock the door.  God, I felt as if I was covered in filth afterward.  When she was not in here, she was in my mother’s solar at the loom.  I allowed her to go her own way for the most part, respecting her choices, and praying she might one day care for me, that one day she would see more within me than a vile creature and our relationship would change for the better.  But when she found out she was breeding, she only grew even more bitter towards me.”

Slowly, Talon moved toward the bed, gripping the post so tightly his knuckles turned white.  He stared at it, as if able to clearly see her ghost resting upon it.  “I was with her when she died.  I held her in my arms.  But the fever had lasted too long and had gone too high.  It began to destroy her mind.  She did not recognize
me; she did not know I was with her as she suffered.  She raged at her foul husband for damning her to such a blighted existence so far from home and the London that she loved.  She railed against me for getting a child on her that would claim her life and then abandoning her to die alone.  Then she damned me.”

“Damned you?”

“‘I curse you Talon Montgomery.  Upon my dying soul you will know only the anguish you have visited on me for the rest of your days.  I condemn you to live and die in agony, abandoned, and alone just as you left me.  May your eternal soul walk the bowels of hell.’”

He paused, his head bowed, his eyes squeezed closed.  “I can hear her words now as clearly as she uttered them eight years ago - every nuance, every inflection,
and every ounce of hatred they bore.”  He sucked in his breath repeatedly.

Gwen waited a moment, uncertain if she should approach or if he would resent her intrusion into his past.

Suddenly he lifted his head to the heavens, his eyes still closed, and she was stunned to see tears streaming down his cheeks.  “I begged her to hear me,” he said, his voice hoarse with pain.  “To know I was there with her, but she went limp in my arms and died.”

Gwen closed her eyes, feeling a hot tear slide down her cheek, mourning a woman she
didn’t know, who she didn’t even like because of what she had done to Talon with her bitterness.  Gwen grieved over the pain Talon had suffered because of Eleanor. 

The icy oppressiveness of the room swept over Gwen with renewed power.  Eleanor’s ghost indeed haunted this tower, but not because of Talon.  It was because of her callus hatred of a man who did not deserve it.  Her curse had actually damned her own soul.  But Talon’s guilt, his misery, condemned him to live under it.  Why could he not see it?  Why could he not realize that the only person who could break the curse was him?

“But Talon, you were there for her.  It is not your fault that the fever destroyed her mind and didn’t allow her to recognize you.”

“It is not?” he asked quietly. “After what I did to her?” He shrugged.  “I tried to counter the curse, swearing over her body before God I would protect our daughter with my life.  Never would she know such terrible heartache as her mother had experienced.” 

He paused, a sad smile tugging at his lips.  “Never did I realize the power a child could have over a man.  Within a scant amount of time, somehow Rose became my reason for breathing.  Every time I held her in my arms, my heart simply melted.  When she was a toddler, all I had to do was enter a room and she would stop what she was doing and hold her arms out to me, wanting me to pick her up, never pushing me away, and never rejecting me.  I loved her with all of my soul, and Rose returned that love unconditionally, never seeing the vile creature her father was.”

The realization smacked Gwen in the teeth.  Talon was a father who loved his daughter with all his heart.  What would it have been like to grow up with a father who cared, who did not beat his daughter into submission, who did not hire men to kill her in order to further his own greed, one who would die rather than see his child come to harm?

Talon turned on his heel and gazed at her.

Gwen’s tears began anew.

“Sweet Jesu, Gwen,” he whispered and stepped forward, enveloping her in his arms.  He crushed her to his chest.

Gwen clung to him, fighting not to sob, but a few escaped her.  Talon held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and murmuring soft reassurances along with apologies.

He pulled away slightly, brushing away her tears with his free hand.  “I understand not your own sire,” he said gruffly.  “I cannot begin to comprehend how he could do what he has to you.”

“I know,” she gasped, trying to grab her errant emotions.  Her gaze focused on the lock of hair still clutched in his fingers and she hauled herself away, staring at it in horror, and remembering his words in the garden.  “Sweet Mary have mercy, someone has Rose.”

Again his shoulders bowed as if a great weight would drive him into the floor.  “Aye.  Someone realized the power the child had over me.  They took her.”  He shook his head in amazement.  “They stole her from my own gardens, Gwen.”

“Good glory.”

“For a long time I did not know if she was alive or dead.  I never received a ransom or message from her abductors.  But at first I suspected your father.”