Ice Maiden (6 page)

Like now, he failed miserably over hiding his
anger for her failure to accept him. He didn't need to say
anything, his eyes told her. Somehow she sensed the emotions buried
deep within that awesome body.

Amy tried to explain away her response to
him. She wasn't herself. Being thrown back in time and all, would
crack a statue. To wake, be kissed senseless by a stranger and then
engaged before she could catch her breath, things like this just
didn't happen this fast to Amy, at least not the person she used to
be.

But I am not that woman anymore and
everything tells me I won't be her--ever again!

Those endless dark pools were burning into
her senses. Anger? God, he could shake this place to its foundation
with its strength.

Berating her wandering thoughts, she knew she
just missed something vitally important.

“Ye had your chance, Amy.”

Her fingers clutched her skirt to keep from
reaching out to halt his rise beside her. Amy swallowed hard,
knowing she just earned his suppressed rage.

The slow smile he graced her troubled gaze
with chilled her in warning. The raising of his wine goblet
silenced the room.

Bern damned the beauty staring at him for the
volatile emotions she could fire to life. Never did a woman
affected him so, making him question the wisdom of going ahead with
the announcement she chose not to make to her guest. If she
expected him to release her for her refusal, Bern decided, she best
learn his intention of becoming a permanent fixture in her
life!

“The Lady Amelia has given me the honor of
announcing our betrothal, her shyness is one of the endearing
qualities I find myself drawn to.”

Captivated by the smiling lie he gave her,
for their audience's benefit, Amy found she couldn't escape the
dreaded hold of his condemning gaze. Her mistake cost her dearly
and Bern wasn't above embarrassing her in payment.

“Aye, the Lady's charms are endless, it is no
wonder I find myself compelled to make her my wife.” Bowing to her,
his desire to crush her flawless composure took on an unreasonable
intensity. “No doubt she will light the halls of Randall Castle
with the same vibrancy I have found here at Morgan Castle.”

Remaining impassive to his announcement, one
that sent hushed whispers threw the crowd, took all of Amy's
willpower. Knowing everyone waited for her reply, she unconsciously
sought out the one responsible. The challenging light in his
ominous gaze made her suck in her breath.

Amy told herself she didn't mistake what she
felt from him or the expectant people in attendance. Unfortunately,
Amy was the only one that didn't understand what they all waited
for.

Commanding herself not to drop her eyes from
his, she touched his out-stretched goblet with her own. From
somewhere she found her voice, praying her words would not be
outlandish enough to expose her.

“Your challenge, my Lord, is flattering, but
may be difficult to accomplish.”

Bern found the air trapped in his lungs as he
accepted her coy rebuttal against their leaving Morgan Castle.

“I hope your praise will not be regretted, my
Lord.”

The half smile he gave her was all he could
manage. No, she did not deny him before the audience, but neither
did she truly agree. Bern added cunning to his growing list of her
attributes.

He raised the goblet as she did, his halted
before drinking. “To our future.”

To survive the intensity his eyes held her
in, Amy forced her own to lower. She could not afford to let her
guard down in his company again. She felt she defused the disaster
about to take life, but next time she might not be as
fortunate.

His curiosity became insatiable where she was
concerned. Ever since the toast she gave him her full attention,
guarded though it might be. He couldn't help but wonder what
unlikable plans were churning behind her lovely smiles. He'd be a
fool to think he could trap her into leaving here so easily. That
she seemed, to all, contented with their pending wedlock kept him
even more on edge. He could have sworn he sensed she was about to
run from the hall earlier.

The thought she might actually think of him
as a challenge pricked his pride. The admission he himself
perceived her as one, didn't gentle the insult he felt she
deliberately turned on him.

And yet, Bern knew she suddenly became much
more than a dallying game to break his boredom and appease the
demands of his station to produce an heir. Watching her, his eyes
were sharp and picked up the slight tremble in her lips to maintain
the smile she gave the Duke of Westbrook. It wasn't shyness as he
stated earlier as an excuse. Somehow he felt the woman's fears as
if she were trying to hide something. And more, almost a protective
wall about her and in her mannerisms. But why? What did she
fear?

That morning in the glen, he perceived her
attack on him as anger for breaching her barrier. Yet now that he
thought on the memory, he realized he saw fear in her eyes.
A
flicker that never shined there before and one that now didn't
leave her.

Nay, even now it lay there. Honesty made Bern
face the fact that the Lady's wariness wasn't all because of his
intrusion in her life.

Peter? The one she called beast. Was he the
cause of what he felt coming from her?

Bern's body actually shook under the rage his
thoughts brought with them. When he followed her he expected her to
be meeting a man. That he would have killed her lover didn't
deserve any further consideration.

Learning instead of her impulsive rides over
the countryside, Bern still felt surprised over his own reaction.
The danger she placed herself in made his insides convulse. The
guards he set about the castle insured she would naught be taking
such rides again.

His gaze swept the room for the missing
Captain Lansing. Bern wasn't surprised, not after the tongue
lashing he gave the man for his lack of protecting Lady Amelia,
even if it was from herself.

Bringing his attention back to her, Bern did
question her lack of awareness over the old man's absence. And
today, she seemed unconcerned by the Captain's lingering anger with
her, where as before, she rarely made a move without informing the
man of her every step. How did one woman change so completely in
the span of minutes?

Waking from a long sleep…
Did he awake
more than her passionate nature?

* * * *

The chamber held little comfort for Amy. She
felt so tired she ached. Maintaining her guard at the banquet
proved exhausting and yet sleep eluded her. Wringing her hands Amy
couldn't shield herself from the truth. “Damn, I am terrified to
sleep!”

The beast laid waiting in her dreams and
nothing could convince her differently. The large room with its
huge stone walls suddenly felt as if they were suffocating her.

She grabbed the cloak off its peg. Amy
wrapped it around her night dress. Her racing steps were silent
whispers on the stone steps in her flight from the tower. The night
air cooled the fever holding her as she moved within the shadows.
Having no real destination she wasn't surprised when she reached
the stable's darkness. The silent presence of the horses watching
their unexpected guest felt like a soothing balm on her frayed
nerves.

Stopping before Squires stall she opened the
gate with such normalcy she reeled. His great head rubbed against
her chest as if to caress her fears away. When the massive horse
moved out into the open area and stopped to wait for her, Amy
didn't hesitate.

His mane felt coarse and thick beneath her
hold as she vaulted up onto his back. Leaning over the powerful
neck Amy buried her face there, releasing the tears she held
away.

* * * *

“Damn!” Bern hadn't been sure his eyes
weren't playing tricks on him until the stallion emerged from the
stable. His call did nothing to halt the steed's movements from
picking up speed and racing past the unaware gate guards. His own
legs never ceased running towards the stalls.

He cursed the moments he lost to bridle his
mount, Bern raced them at full gallop before they left the
compound. Fearing he lost her in the night, his frantic gaze
searched the forest edge finding nothing. He swung his search to
the open hills feeling his heart pounding over the sight--there,
moving along the crest galloped the sleek stallion. On his back the
cloak and white gown flew out like wings, making it appear as if
she was a part of a winged beast.

He dug in his heels and raced his horse until
they drew alongside the stallion. Seeing no reins to stop the horse
with, Bern faced no choice but to ride with her until the stallion
ended his run.

Riding there at an easy lope Bern realized
Amy held no awareness of his presence. Much like the wild eye glare
of the stallion she appeared lost to all but the night's
freedom.

The midnight ride was one he would never
forget. He followed, never trying to interfere. When the stallion
returned to the castle the guard's lack of alarm over their
mistress's excursion told Bern the scene he witnessed wasn't a new
one.

Sliding off his mount Bern walked forward to
where the stallion stood. Bern gently untangled her hold on the
horse's mane. That she remained oblivious to his actions drew deep
lines of concern across his brow.

He eased her pliant body into his arms, some
of the tension left him when she snuggled up to his chest. Holding
her tighter Bern felt a surge of protective desire strike like
lightning through his frame. Like the wild creature he was
beginning to know, her hair floated about them like an ermine
cloak.

He forced himself to find the stairs that
would deliver her to the sanctity of her chamber. Silently he
cursed his gallant jester when her open door finally drew them
inside. Yanking the covers down off the bed he lowered her gently
into its waiting comfort. In the candlelight she looked as if she
were still racing over the moonlit hills. Her ivory skin flushed to
a rosy sheen, only the darkness haunting the mink lashes whispered
of her exhaustion.

Bern's finger pushed back the wild mass of
curls from her brow. “Ack, ye are beauty itself, Amy.” Remembering
how she felt in his embrace, the fire in her kiss, Bern waged a
fierce battle to pull back from her allure and not take what he
wanted to possess.

The unexpected fear that by possessing he
might destroy what he so wantonly desired, delivered a staggering
blow. Backing away from her in silence he watched her sleep for
endless minutes. A slow wistful smile came to his darkened frown.
“What new wonders will the dawn bring with thee, sweet Amy?”

“Gone? Gone where, Mistress?”

Tilly turned away to shade her knowing smile
over the lass' piqued interest in Laird Randall's whereabouts. “The
hunt I suspect--rode out at dawn they did. Raised a ruckus too. I
will be surprised if there is game within a fortnight that's not
been warned of their approach.”

Ah yes, she remembered now, the boar. The
mental picture she made of the hunt sent shivers over her arms. But
then, she'd felt little else since rising and finding she still
remained here.

“Ye should have stayed abed this morn, look
right done in ye do.”

“I'm fine, it's just the late hour of the
feast last night.”

Amy missed Mistress Tilly's brow raise over
her excuse. “Oh aye, been keeping many a late night these last
weeks.”

Amy paid little mind to the woman's rebuke,
her thoughts were trying to decipher the meaning of her new
reality. She refused to dwell on what happened to bring her here,
Amy focused on the here and now and one very unforgettable man.

“When will he return?”

“By noon I'd say, unless the game leads them
a merry chase.”

The older woman's answer made Amy fidget
before the open balcony. “Boars don't run...” Biting her lip, Amy
scolded her concern and her increasing lack of control over voicing
her fretful thoughts.

“True, but then neither does a man like Laird
Randall.”

The knowing smile that meant Amy's worried
glare made her jerk her head back around.

Before Mistress Tilly could take her teasing
any further the shouts and mounting commotion in the castle's yard
drew both women out onto the balcony. Amy's eager eyes searched the
double line of men riding through the massive gate. When she failed
to see Bern her gaze went back to the first man taking a closer
study, wondering how she could fail to spot him.

Without thought Amy reached out and took hold
of Mistress Tilly arm, squeezing it as her fears came out in a
breathless wisp. “He's not there.”

Tilly tried not to add her own worry to what
she felt and heard in her lass. “Probably be along in a shake and
with a fat boar in tow, no doubt.”

But neither lady saw the dead animal to
confirm the possibility.

Unable to stand there and not learn of his
whereabouts, Amy went racing out of the room. Skirts flying she
reached the yard and continued her frantic search that did nothing
to relieve her mounting anxiety.

Failing to find the old Captain, Amy sought
out Lord Randall's men. Touching the mounted man's leg that she
recognized. “It's Captain Craig, isn't it?”

“Aye, Lady Amelia.”

“Where is your Lord?”

Her fingers tightened on his thick thigh when
he would have looked away. “Where man, tell me!”

“They be bringing him in, now.”

Amy swung around, gasping over the sight she
confronted.

The travois pulled behind the horse could be
the only way she would not have seen him--because he laid in
it!

Running to the halting procession she forced
herself not to wretch from the blood soaked clothes and his pale
contorted face.