Velvet Bond (37 page)

Read Velvet Bond Online

Authors: Catherine Archer

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction

 

Olwyn did not hesitate as she rushed across the crowded courtyard.

 

Without another word, Elizabeth ran toward the stables. On horseback she would be much more likely to catch them. When her heavy gown hindered her progress, she lifted it high, completely oblivious of the stares cast her way.

 

She knew she had to act, and immediately, if she had any hope of rescuing the child before Hyla reached Harrington with her. After that, nothing short of war would see Willow returned to them. And that Elizabeth did not believe her husband would do. Not with the child inside the keep. If Elizabeth did not succeed now, Nigel would have won. Raynor would not risk harming her to get her back. Even in the event that a long and tedious siege was undertaken, Willow would suffer with the rest of the castle’s occupants, until they ultimately ran out of food and water.

 

'Twas untenable.

 

Guilt drove Elizabeth on, uncaring of the people she jostled in her haste. Willow had been left in her care, and she had failed to protect her. How could Raynor ever forgive her if Willow was lost to the very man who had raped her mother?

 

As she reached the stables, Elizabeth saw a sight that heartened her greatly and gave her hope that her quest would succeed. A black palfrey stood saddled and ready for mounting in the yard outside. It was a fine specimen of horseflesh with a proud head and glossy coat. Obviously this was the prized possession of some wealthy merchant’s wife. Save the boy who held the reins, there was no one about, and this seemed odd, but Elizabeth chose not to question her good fortune.

 

Without a word to the startled boy, she hefted her skirts even higher and climbed atop the mare. She then reached around the horse’s neck and pulled the reins from the boy’s hands, even as she kicked the beast to a gallop.

 

She gained the outside easily and sped down the hard-packed dirt road in the direction of Harrington. Leaning low over the horse’s back, Elizabeth prayed that she would overtake them before it was too late.

 

For several miles, Elizabeth rode on, hardly thinking past the pain in her heart. She knew nothing beyond the need to reach her child and see her safely returned to her husband.

 

Then, unexpectedly, she came around a bend and saw them on the road ahead of her. But when she did, her heart sank. For not only could she clearly see Willow, sitting before Hyla on a spotted mare, but there was Nigel Harrington himself, resting atop his own stallion, only a few feet from where Hyla had stopped.

 

Even as she watched, Hyla awkwardly nudged her horse closer to Nigel’s when he reached out his arms.

 

Elizabeth’s skin crawled at the idea of Harrington touching Willow, and before she had a chance to think on the wisdom of her actions, she gave a kick and her mount sprang forward.

 

But even as she reached them, she knew she would have to have her hands free to grab the child. Dropping the reins and trusting to her skill as a horsewoman to make the mare obey her by simple command of her gripping thighs, Elizabeth was between the other two before they even noticed her approach.

 

Taking a deep breath, she reached for Willow and brought her into her lap without so much as slowing. Elation filled her for that one split second, as Willow realized who she was and clung to her.

 

But the joy proved short-lived when her mare came to a halt with a jolt that nearly tore the child from her arms.

 

Elizabeth swung around and found herself looking into the mad gaze of Nigel Harrington. He smiled coldly, showing her reins in his hands. He must have grabbed them as she flew past. Elizabeth knew a sickening rush of disappointment and then fear. Although she held a sobbing Willow close against her, they were not free.

 

What would he do with them now?

 

Nigel Harrington gave a harsh laugh. “Now I have you both. Better and better. Warwicke will rue the day he crossed me.”

 

Something inside Elizabeth exploded, and she screamed, “Filthy cur! How dare you even speak my husband’s name! You are not fit to breathe the same air as one such as he!”

 

“Not fit?” he growled. “Why are you women ever blind to what Warwicke truly is? He wants Willow for her inheritance. You know, don’t you, that everything of her mother’s went to her? It was entailed through direct descendant, even if that was a female.” His voice rose. “My father only married Louisa’s mother to bring her money to Harrington. Louisa knew that everything but Harrington keep was hers. I asked her to marry me. We could have gotten a dispensation, ours not being a true blood tie. But she wouldn’t have me. Though she made a pretense of saying it was because she didn’t love me, I knew Louisa thought she was too good for me. Me, a Harrington. My ancestors came here with the Conqueror. But I showed her.” He laughed bitterly. “I made certain she had a bit of Harrington blood in her.”

 

Bile rose in Elizabeth’s throat at his cruelty. “Vile despoiler,” she spat.

 

Nigel leaned forward and slapped her face. “Do not press me, woman. You are in no position to make insults.”

 

Elizabeth leaned back, stunned, as she moved one hand to her cheek. “You are mad.” She shook her head. “Have you not caused enough harm? Why, why must you take Willow? How could you hope to gain? The king has declared Raynor the child’s father. He will not allow you to keep her in the end, no matter that you take her now. You gain nothing but to cause us all pain.”

 

Nigel laughed again. “My dear Lady Warwicke. You are quite wrong. By taking the child, I draw Warwicke from his den. Once he is disposed of, I become her only living relative. Not only do I repay him for keeping her from me, I also become the executor of all her wealth.”

 

Elizabeth was not impressed with this bravado. “You may find Raynor is not so very easy to kill. Taking Willow does not make him more vulnerable to you. He has no need of a shield to protect him from you.” She knew he was remembering the way he had used her as such by the angry flush that stained his cheeks. Just as she had meant him to.

 

Hyla spoke, surprising Elizabeth, who had forgotten her presence. “My lord. Should we not go?”

 

“Aye, we should,” Nigel agreed. “We have lingered here overlong as it is. I would be at Harrington before Warwicke knows of this. For clearly he does not as yet, or you, lady Elizabeth, would not have come alone.”

 

The observation was not one she could refute, so Elizabeth said nothing, only biting her lip in consternation. She could only pray that Olwyn had found Raynor quickly, and that he would come after them.

 

With an expression of triumph, Nigel began to lead them back down the road toward his keep. Hyla stayed close beside him, her own face filled with spiteful pleasure every time she turned to glare at Elizabeth.

 

They had gone only a short distance when a dearly familiar voice hailed them from behind. With a gasp of joy, Elizabeth swung around to see Raynor bearing down upon them.

 

Nigel’s face was a tapestry of fear, rage and frustration when he saw his mortal enemy closing in on him. With a cry of fury, he threw Elizabeth’s reins to Hyla. “Hold them while I dispose of Warwicke.”

 

He drew his sword just in time, for Raynor was immediately upon him.

 

Elizabeth held Willow’s face close against her shoulder, so she could not see the battle. But the child flinched at the first clash of steel against steel, and began to weep all the harder.

 

To Elizabeth’s dismay, Nigel met her husband’s attack with more skill and fervor than she would have guessed. He seemed to be a proficient swordsman, despite his past lack of bravery where Raynor was concerned.

 

Both men clung to their wildly dancing mounts as they fought on, each plainly wanting nothing so much as the other’s blood.

 

Elizabeth held her breath in fear, for she knew that a tumble from his horse could easily render Raynor vulnerable to Nigel’s flashing sword. But he kept his seat, and before long it was clear that the black-hearted knight was no match for Raynor. With each thrust and swing, he was further beaten back.

 

When finally the death blow came, Nigel looked at Raynor in shocked surprise, then crumpled off his horse to lie still upon the grass.

 

It was a moment before any of them could react. Then, as if realizing that her protector could no longer be of any benefit to her, Hyla cried out and attempted to escape.

 

But she was no experienced rider, and her mare did not instantly react to her signals.

 

By that time, Raynor had seen what she was about and easily caught her, only a few feet away.

 

Looking up at Raynor, atop his horse, his hand on her mount’s neck to prevent her from escaping, Hyla’s expression was filled with panic. When she spoke, her voice was rife with desperation, her eyes pleading with Raynor to heed her. “My lord Warwicke, let me go and I will tell you all.”

 

Raynor’s lips were thin with anger. “All what?”

 

Hyla pointed to Elizabeth. “Of her. It was your lady wife who helped us. She gave me the child when I went to the keep.”

 

Elizabeth was aghast at the complete brashness of the lie. Surely Hyla must know that her story could be disproved! Elizabeth had no care for that. It was fear of Raynor’s reaction to the tale that froze her blood in her veins and made her heart ache with sadness. Would he look at her as he had that time when he came upon her with Nigel Harrington? However briefly, would she see the shadow of doubt cloud his face, and know that deep within himself he held back?

 

As if he had read her very mind, Raynor looked fully on his wife as he replied to Hyla’s accusations. “You lie. My lady wife would not betray me or our daughter in thought or deed.”

 

A great cacophony of joy sounded in Elizabeth’s heart at the trust and love in her husband’s eyes.

 

At that moment, when they two were lost in each other’s eyes, Hyla gave a desperate kick and was away, hanging precariously to the horse’s back. Raynor began to go after her again, but Elizabeth stopped him. “We will find her, love. Right now, we had best take Willow home. She is most disturbed by what has happened here.”

 

Raynor looked down at his daughter, who had stopped sobbing, but clung to her mother as if she would never let go. “Aye. I can see you are right. My men follow close behind, and I will set them to find her when we meet them on the road.”

 

Elizabeth bent and raised Willow’s tear-streaked face. “All will be well now. We are going home.” When Willow buried her head against Elizabeth’s shoulder again, she looked to Raynor with a frown of worry.

 

He leaned forward to take her hand for a brief moment, his eyes dark with emotion. “Have no fear, love. She will be all right, with your tender care to heal her heart.”

 

* * *

 

That night, with Willow safely tucked in her own bed, Raynor held Elizabeth close in theirs. As she snuggled into his sheltering embrace, Elizabeth felt him shudder. “What is it, love?” she asked, reaching up to touch his face and finding it damp. “Raynor, do not cry, my dearest. We returned to you safe and well.”

He took a deep breath, and when he spoke his voice was husky with emotion. “I weep with happiness, wife. So grateful am I to God for your life. The emptiness I felt at nearly losing both you and Willow is now filled with a love so deep it makes me ache just here.” He put her slender hand to his hard, bare chest. “You are my life, my reason for living.”

 

“God was surely with us,” she replied, raising up to kiss him tenderly. “When I went to the stables, a horse stood there already saddled. I must remember to find the lady who owns the beast and thank her.”

 

“Then you must thank yourself, love, for the mare was to be my marriage gift to you. It was what I had gone to get when I left you. A fight had broken out between two men who had taken too much wine, and I was delayed.”

 

Elizabeth hugged him tightly. “She is mine? Oh Raynor, ’tis a most beautiful gift. Thank you. Nothing could have been more welcome than that surefooted sable mare. She carried me to Willow.”

 

Raynor pulled her down to him, holding her so tightly she could scarce breathe, but Elizabeth reveled in the embrace. “Why did you go alone?” he whispered. “I was just inside the stables there, but by the time the lad had come to tell me you had taken the mare, you were gone. And I knew not where. Thankfully, Olwyn found me only moments later, or I fear what would have happened.”

 

She kissed him. “But naught did, Raynor. Everything was as it was meant to be. Have you realized that we no longer have to live under the threat of what Harrington might do? Willow is safe from him for all time. And though she was frightened by what occurred today, I believe she is going to be fine. Why, when I left her a few minutes ago, she was resting peacefully and spoke with relief that the bad man would not try to take her again.”

 

“Nay, he will not,” Raynor growled, a hint of anger in his voice as he remembered. “'Twas a fitting end. And now that Hyla has been captured by my men, there is her punishment to consider.”

 

Elizabeth put her finger to his lips. The past and Nigel were dead, and she resented even one more moment of their future spent on thinking of him. “Now is the time for us, Raynor. No more can he harm us. Hyla will wait until morn.”

 

“Aye, you are right.” He rolled her on her back and kissed her then, long and hard. And deep inside her, Elizabeth felt a stirring of warm desire. She sighed against his mouth, her hands disappearing in his hair as their embrace grew steadily more heated. In this ancient, most intimate way would they celebrate their love and life together, leaving the past behind them.

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