Chapter
24
The moment Olivia landed on her back and Eldridge took a swing at her, I roared and barreled forward. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a weapon or that I was injured with an arrowhead still embedded into my shoulder.
Like an enraged wild boar, I put my head down and tackled Eldridge, taking him down to the ground. The moment our bodies collided, I swung my chained wrists into his head with a strength borne of my desperation and anger. The clank of the metal crunched against his skull.
Even with so heavy a blow, Eldridge fumbled against me, attempting to get a solid grasp of his sword.
I roared again, releasing my anger at him for hurting Olivia. I swung my shackled wrists once more, this time bringing them harder against his head. I pummeled him, until at last he grew still underneath me.
When I finally pushed myself away, my breath came in heaving gasps. The wound in my shoulder burned and blood trickled down my back.
As I stood, I staggered from the pain radiating from every inch of my body, but I searched frantically for Olivia. She lay a dozen paces away with Bennet by her side. He pressed a ripped piece of his tunic against a gash in her head.
I stumbled over and dropped to my knees. Before I could brush him aside, someone had grabbed ahold of my chains and yanked me back to my feet. I started to swing again, enraged that anyone would try to take me away from Olivia.
But at the short dark-skinned Moor, I stopped mid-motion. He started to duck, and I remembered the first sword fight I’d encountered with him in Olivia’s chambers at Ludlow the day I captured her. Cecil had fought as well as a young soldier with a surprising dexterity and agility. In my weakened condition, if he wanted to hurt me, he likely already would have.
Instead, he held out a ring of keys and nodded toward my shackles. His eyes held no warmth, but I knew why he was offering to free me. He wanted me to take Olivia away from here, away from her father, and away from the danger.
I held his gaze and offered my shackles.
Blood oozed from a cut in his forehead, and he’d sustained a wound to his arm. But he stuck the key into the lock and twisted regardless of the repercussions both now and in the future. He pried loose the iron bands around my wrists and tossed them to the ground, followed by the keys.
Then for several heartbeats he studied Olivia’s face as though memorizing her features. “She’ll be happy with you.”
Without a goodbye, he spun and limped back toward the melee. From what I could surmise, our men were overpowering the earl’s who had begun to retreat toward the castle, taking the battle away from us.
Even so, I wasted no further time. I bent, pushed Bennet aside, and scooped Olivia up into my arms. I began to stalk toward my mount. Although my body protested the movement and weight, I pushed aside my discomfort. I needed to get Olivia away from Wigmore and any chance that her father might send someone after us.
“Let’s go,” I said to Bennet.
He’d regained his bearing and now stood watching me without moving. He lifted his visor and his eyes reflected surprise.
“Help me get on the horse,” I commanded tersely.
Still he didn’t budge.
“Now.”
“You’re in love with the girl.”
“She’s not a girl. She’s the earl’s daughter.”
Bennet had the audacity to grin.
I would have ridden away with her by myself without Bennet’s help if I’d had the strength to lift her into the saddle. But I didn’t. I could feel myself weakening. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be unconscious too.
“Please, Bennet. Help me.” My voice was taut with pain and weakness, so much so Bennet lunged forward.
He reached to take Olivia from me, but I held fast to her. “Help me get into the saddle.”
“I’ll hold her,” he offered, his brows furrowing in his suavely handsome face.
I bumped him away with my elbow. “I’ve got her.”
His eyes, so much like mine, rounded. “Very well.”
“Just break the arrow shaft in my shoulder and then assist me up.”
Within seconds, I was in the saddle, with Olivia cradled against my chest. The arrow head still burned in my muscle where it was lodged, but with the shaft broken I wouldn’t risk it slowing me down.
I turned my eyes away from Wigmore in the direction of a place I’d abandoned long ago, a place with too many painful memories, a place to which I hadn’t planned to return.
“Where to?” Bennet asked from his mount next to me.
I urged my horse forward. “Home.”