Chapter
XXV

Christian stared at his old enemy and cursed his own schoolboy jealousy for leading him into Jack Midnight’s snare.

Midnight guffawed at Christian’s expression and spoke to Blade. “He’s wondering now. Wondering if you tricked him. His brain’s bubbling and simmering with it, trying to decide if he can trust you. You were always quick, my treasure.” Midnight held out a hand, palm up. “Come closer.”

Christian held back, as did Blade.

“Don’t make me send someone after you. So undignified for two lads of such noble lineage to be manhandled and trussed up like geese.”

Christian walked toward Midnight, halting at sword length. Blade followed to stand at his side. Midnight smiled at them, his gaze lingering to catch Christian’s eye and hold it. Laughing softly, he walked in a circle, inspecting his two captives. He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“For shame, rushing away without swords. Hot-blooded youth is your downfall.”

Midnight stopped in front of Christian and drew his sword. His men closed in, weapons drawn. Christian dared not move.

“Throw the daggers in the pool,” Midnight said.

Christian obeyed, and Blade also. As the daggers hit the water, Midnight raised his sword and touched Christian’s cheek with the tip.

“I’ve been waiting a long time, love.”

Mouth closed, Christian remained silent while he assessed his chances. He couldn’t move until he knew whether Blade was an enemy or not. As if he sensed Christian’s dilemma, Midnight chuckled.

Crooning softly, he said, “Ah, no, it’s not what you think. One of my men spotted the boy. I thought to catch one pretty rooster and got two instead. Blade was always a bloodthirsty little cock, so I had to wait for more men. You see, it’s a hard task to catch a beast rather than kill it, but I’m patient, and look at my reward.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” Christian said. “What do you want with me? Or with Blade?”

“That is my secret, love. And besides, you’ve hunted me from one end of this island to another for vengeance’s sake, so you shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Where do you think I learned it?”

“Enough talk.” Midnight traced a line down Christian’s cheek with the sword and rested the point at the base of his captive’s throat. “Now be a good boy and let Odo tie your hands.”

“No. If you want me, you’ll have to kill me.”

Midnight hesitated. Christian tightened his leg muscles for a jump backward, but the highwayman’s next words sucked the strength from his body.

“You don’t want to die, Kit my love, for then you won’t hear who it was who brought me out on this day of all days.” Midnight paused to heighten Christian’s interest. “Not Blade, love. Nora.”

Christian shook his head.

“Oh, yes. The lady sent a message. Take him away, she begged. Kill him. A determined woman, your wife.”

The world grew cold as Christian listened. He tried not to hear, but the words sank into his brain like arrows shot from a crossbow. Had he been fooled all along?

Blade jerked at his sleeve, rousing him. “It’s another lie. Don’t let him deceive you.”

Shaking his head again, Christian said to Midnight, “You always did have a facile wit for a peasant, but you’ll never convince me that Nora would—” He forgot what he was saying when Midnight held up a letter with a broken seal.

“An entreaty in your wife’s own hand, love.”

Christian slowly took the proffered letter. A few words crawled on black legs across the page. Come to Falaise and he will be yours. At the sight of Nora’s name beneath the message, he shut his eyes. The letter was taken from him while he tried to stop the destruction of his very being.

Pitting all his will against it, he still lost, and hope died. It was if he were a castle and his foundation stones had turned to water. He could feel their massive support dissolve.

“You fool,” Blade said. “That letter is false. She would no more betray you than light the faggots beneath a heretic at the stake.”

“I hurt her so much,” Christian said, not seeming to notice when Blade was pulled away from his side.

He stood motionless. With a ring of swords around him he couldn’t dredge up the will to resist as Jack Midnight closed in on him.

“Christian!” Blade shouted, straining against the men who held him.

While Christian studied a dead log with blurred vision, Midnight grasped his arms and pulled them forward. With elaborate care the thief slipped a pair of manacles around Christian’s wrists. Midnight’s palm brushed his cheek, and Christian looked up to meet his enemy’s bemused gaze.

“I expected fury and a fight.”

Giving his head a slight shake, Christian tried to summon his old venom but found it drained along with his will.

“Have I your attention, love?” Midnight lifted Christian’s chin. “Have I won at last, without having to put you to the scourge?”

“I would have preferred the scourge. Now I don’t care what you do with me.”

Christian watched without much interest as realization suffused his opponent. Midnight swore and yanked on the manacles.

“Bestir yourself. I want a fight.”

His voice faint, Christian said, “There is no reason.”

“There is reason!” Midnight shouted. “God’s cock, your lineage is reason enough. And I want my final vengeance. I want you to fight and writhe when I break you to the saddle. There’s no satisfaction in commanding a docile slave. Why do you think I chose you, and then Blade as your second?”

“I don’t care.”

Midnight sprang at Christian, slapping him across the cheek, then crashing his fist into his jaw. Christian reeled under the blows, his head near bursting. He sank to one knee, but two of Midnight’s men hauled him upright to stand between them. Christian tried to pay attention, but the death of hope was smothering him.

He felt as if his wits were seeping from his body, trickling out on the ground and bleeding into the soil where they would be lost. He couldn’t summon the will to protest, even when Midnight grabbed the chain between his wrists and dragged him to a tree. He heard Blade shouting, but it was too much of an effort to attend to the meaning of the words.

Vaguely surprised when someone unfastened his manacles, Christian’s interest ebbed when they were replaced with his hands held behind him. Midnight tied a rope to the chain between the iron cuffs and tossed the other end of it over a branch overhead. He appeared at Christian’s side, rope gathered in one hand.

“You need reminding of who is master,” he said.

The highwayman began to tighten the rope, and Christian’s arms inched backward until they were taut.

Blade hurled obscenities from where he had been tied to another tree. “Midnight, you son of a dog bitch, let him go!”

“Do be silent,” Midnight said. “Your turn will come soon enough.”

At this, Christian roused. “Midnight, release the boy. You have me.”

“I want you both. Feel how much I want you.”

Midnight yanked on the rope. With a snapping sound, it pulled tight, and pain stabbed through Christian’s shoulders and arms. His body jerked. He bit back a cry as a burning sensation fired along his strained muscles and tendons. Midnight released the rope, and Christian’s arms dropped.

The movement caused greater agony as the tension on his muscles was released. His jaw clamped shut to prevent a scream of pain. Sweat beaded his face, and his breath hissed through locked teeth. Midnight jerked the rope once more, and pain tore through his flesh again as the weight of his own body ripped at his chest and arms.

At last Christian cried out, then sank his teeth into his lower lip to prevent another lapse. Midnight loosened the rope, and waves of pain washed through Christian’s arms, turning his leg muscles to water. He wobbled, but Midnight caught him around the waist. The thief shouted something at him, but Christian was deep in the anguish and couldn’t hear.

As he felt himself losing the ability to control his responses, he decided that he didn’t like pain any more than he had before Nora had made him want to die. A pity he’d not discovered this important truth a little sooner.

Christian chuckled at himself, and the chuckle fermented and frothed until it became laughter. Leaning against the highwayman, he shivered. Old memories of beatings came to him in red-tinged images of Midnight’s face. Midnight’s hand on a whip. Shivering again, Christian realized he hadn’t stopped laughing.

Midnight cursed as Christian turned his head to look at him and chuckled. Pulling the rope taut once more, Midnight grabbed a handful of Christian’s hair and forced his head back.

“Remembering old times, love?”

“May the heavenly Father rot your cock.”

‘That’s my Kit,” Midnight said. “You were made to prey on the innocent, not swoon over them.” The thief gave the rope a jerk, and smiled when Christian’s face drained of all color. “Join me of your own will, love. What else is left to you, now that you’ve had your fill of marriage? I’ll help you get rid of your wife.”

“Leave me be,” Christian said between gasps.

Midnight shook his head. “I can’t do that. Besides, one more tug on the rope and you’ll beg me to do what I want with you as long as I stop the pain.”

“No wonder your lord threw you off your land. Did you starve your own wife and child?”

The highwayman rammed his fist into Christian’s stomach and pulled hard on the rope at the same time. Christian screamed this time, a scream that would have satisfied Jack Midnight’s craving if it hadn’t been for the mounted riders that charged at that moment.

In his pain, Christian was only aware of the sound of hooves and the clash of swords after Midnight had dropped the rope. The noise of battle pierced his senses as he fell. Midnight stopped his descent, hauling him to his feet. Christian stumbled forward over the arm that braced his body, and the thief grabbed his neck. Forcing Christian’s head up, he put a knife to his captive’s throat.

As his head came up, Christian beheld his father and three knights battling with Midnight’s men. The Earl leaned to one side on his horse and slashed a man almost in two. Midnight bellowed at the Earl, and Sebastian looked at his son. There was a moment’s pause during which the Earl stayed his sword. Christian tried to struggle against Midnight’s hold, but his arms wouldn’t move. Numb and useless, they were trapped between his body and that of the thief.

“Surrender, my lord,” Midnight called, “or I’ll kill your son.”

Horror filled Christian’s brain at the thought of his father in the hands of Midnight. “No!”

Writhing in Midnight’s grip, Christian paid no attention to the blade that cut his skin as he fought. Sebastian shouted at Christian to stop, but he was past reason. Flinging his body to the side, he cursed as his small strength proved no match for his enemy.

“Hold still, love,” Midnight said to him as he tightened his grasp, “for I want your head on your shoulders a bit longer.”

Seeing his father dismount, Christian yelled a protest and renewed his struggle. Suddenly Jack Midnight yelped. The highwayman’s body jolted, and Christian thrust a leg out to trip the man. Midnight lost his balance and fell to the ground with Christian beneath him.

Christian’s head pounded the earth. Midnight’s weight crushed his already tortured arms and chest, but he heaved violently anyway, throwing the man off him. The sounds of battle renewed as he scrambled to his knees.

Tossing hair away from his eyes and spitting dirt, Christian whirled, looking for Midnight. His jaw dropped when he saw Nora standing over the highwayman, a log in her hand. She bashed at Midnight’s head as the thief lunged to the right. The wood caught him on the side of his head, and Midnight grunted and swayed.

While Christian watched, Nora darted forward and pulled her own knife from Jack Midnight’s right buttock. The thief cried out and clamped a hand over the wound as he scrambled for safety. He crawled away, only to run into the braced legs of the Earl. Sebastian lifted a booted foot and jammed it into Midnight’s shoulder, then pointed his sword at the man’s nose and smiled.

“Well met, sirrah.”

The skirmish subsided with the taking of Midnight, and still kneeling in the dirt, Christian looked, up at Nora.

He met her eyes reluctantly. “Sweeting.”

“What a crackbrained, goosewitted, addlepatted fool,” she said. “You have the wits of a hobbyhorse.”

Nora’s fear for Christian brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and spank him at the same time.

“You galloped off into the forest with no weapons and no escort,” she scolded instead. “It’s feverish mad you are.”

“He said you brought him here.”

“And you believed him? You faithless weathercock. You have a goose quill for a spine if you can’t fortify yourself with trust in my love for you. Oh, beshrew that.” She knelt beside him and touched his bruised cheek. “I would have your word, at once, that you will never frighten me so again.”

“Stop him!”

They both turned at Blade’s shout. Jack Midnight raced away from the Earl and bounded onto a horse. He yelped when his buttock met the saddle, but kicked the horse into motion.

“Midnight!” Christian yelled.

He struggled to his feet, but Nora grabbed him. “No, Christian.”

“Let me go. He’s getting away.”

Desperate, Nora clutched at her husband, but Christian managed to throw her off. He took three bounding leaps in the direction of his horse. Blade ran up, holding out a key, and she watched the youth free her husband of his manacles.

Nora stretched out a hand to him, but he wasn’t looking. He sprang for his horse, running lightly while holding his arms bent and close to his chest. As she beheld Christian succumbing once again to his obsession, she let her hand fall to her side.

“But what about me?”

She’d spoken to herself. He couldn’t have heard her, for hopelessness had weakened her voice, yet his steps slowed. Hurt at his desertion when she wanted so desperately to hold him and be held, she dared not hope. Yet he stopped and turned back to her.

Midnight had already vanished with two knights in pursuit. She knew well that the thief was capable of escaping them, and that Christian knew it, too. Yet he had stopped.

She held her breath as he looked at her, then looked to where Midnight had disappeared. He stared in that direction for a long time and then turned his back to it. A thrill rippled through Nora’s body as he took a step toward her, and another. He was coming back.

He stopped close to her and gazed into her eyes. His own were filled with pain. He didn’t touch her, though he stood so near, his disheveled beauty a siren’s call to her senses.

Nora’s heart overflowed with love and longing, but she was uncertain. Her confidence in his love was too new, and he had proved his distrust of her twice in one day. All her old fears returned, gnawing at her faith in her worthiness. Mayhap he couldn’t believe in her because there was so little in which to place his faith.

He touched her hand, and she gathered up enough courage to meet his gaze.

“If you can forgive me once again,” he said, “I will devote the rest of my life to proving my love.”

She hesitated, then said, “There is a thing I wish for.”

Taking both her hands in his own, he stepped closer. “I will grant any wish.”

“Wait before you promise,” she said. “Will you give up this mad vengeance? You feed it daily, and in doing so, starve our love. And Midnight could destroy us both.”

She waited, her fear held at bay only by her will. Christian lowered his head and kissed her hands before straightening to look into her eyes again.

“I was going to jump on my horse a moment ago and chase him until one of us dropped. I was almost there when I realized that my arms were too weak and I might not be able to get on the horse, much less ride. Then a strange thought occurred to me.” He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. “I found that I was chasing Jack Midnight out of habit rather than need. I’ve lost interest in him.”

“You have?”

“Do you know what does consume my thoughts?”

She shook her head.

“The question of how my ferocious little dragon of a wife might punish me for my lack of faith.”

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and burst into tears. Groaning as he lifted his arms to her waist, Christian murmured comforting words to her. Nora only cried harder.

“Y-you could have been ki-illed!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Never d-do that again.”

“Never.”

She bawled louder, and she felt his lips on her ear and her neck.

“Nora, don’t. If you weep much more, I’m going to have to pick you up, and that will hurt my arms. You wouldn’t want that.”

“Oh, your arms.” She pulled back from him, wiping her cheeks. “Do they hurt much?”

“They feel like they’re stuffed with lead.”

“A well-deserved punishment,” said his father.

Sebastian was seated on a nearby log, wiping his sword with a rag.

“Sire,” Christian said.

“Hold your tongue, baggage. I’m all distempered because of you. I dislike having to save your life before dinner.”

Nora giggled, but covered her mouth with a hand when Christian tried to quell her with a threatening scowl. She placated him with a hand on his chest.

“Don’t you want to know why I asked your father to give chase?” she asked.

“It would be a courtesy,” Christian said.

“If you had listened to Inigo, you would have known that he got word that Jack Midnight had left the city. Poor Inigo came to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen. And when you ran off, he told me instead. Marry, I near lost the beat of my heart with fear for you.”

Christian started to lift a hand to his brow, but winced and lowered his arm. “I begin to think those spells I got from good-wife Winnie went awry and leached my brains.”

Nora smiled at her husband. Even with his clothing torn, his face smudged with dirt, his body still called to hers, bewitching her as no spell could. His doublet was torn open, and the shirt beneath as well, revealing smooth skin that glistened with perspiration.

She hadn’t yet had time to consider her response to his violence and jealousy. Now that he was calm, she found herself in awe. He was jealous. From the way he still eyed Blade, she could tell his anger at the youth hadn’t faded completely. Poor Blade was helping the Earl’s men tie their prisoners and kept a considerable distance from the viscount.

Nora was jolted out of her own thoughts by Sebastian’s voice. It snapped with impatience as he castigated his son.

“If you had behaved yourself in the first place, she would have thrown herself at your feet, and you wouldn’t have had cause to be jealous of an eighteen-year-old boy. God’s blood, I’ve seen you charm jaded harlots and court matrons stuffed with virtue. How could you not win back the favor of so gentle a maid?”

Drawing closer to her husband, Nora watched shame and grief steal over his face. She took one of his hands in hers.

“Please, my lord,” she said to the Earl, “he had won my favor and regained my love some days ago.”

“You don’t have to lie for me,” Christian said.

“I’m not lying. It’s only that I’m such a coward. I was afraid to trust again, until I saw you trying to cast a spell with Cat’s aid. Before that, you were so … so … well, you’re a frightening man, but there you were, in the middle of the night plotting to enslave me with a puppy and a magic spell.”

The Earl howled his laughter, almost falling off his log. Christian muttered something Nora couldn’t hear, then bent down to whisper in her ear.

“Did you have to say that in his hearing? Beshrew you, woman, I’ll not have my wife telling stories about me to my own father.”

Noting the rosiness that crept over her husband’s face, Nora bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Newly burgeoning confidence flooded her. “But Christian, you’re so wondrous.”

He stopped his fuming and gaped at her. “Think you I am wondrous?”

She snuggled close, lifting his sore arms so that they rested on her waist. Raising her head, she looked directly into his eyes, letting him see all the worship and love she felt. She’d been afraid to reveal to him the whole of her enslavement, but now that she knew of his own captivity to her, she could be honest.

Christian was still frowning at her and didn’t seem to know that he was rubbing his hip and thighs against hers. Her breasts tingled, and she stroked the soft flesh at the base of his throat. He murmured her name on a gasp and nuzzled her cheek.

“Wonderful,” she whispered in his ear. “Beautiful, wild. You heat my blood just by walking into a room.”

“I rejoice to hear it, for I plan to walk into rooms constantly.”

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him. He remained quiescent while she explored his mouth, but soon rammed his tongue deep and thrust his hips against hers.

“Lewd baggage,” the Earl said.

Christian lifted his head to smile into Nora’s eyes. “We’re lost to shame, sire.”

“Your pleasure will have to be delayed, Chris. You haven’t noticed, but darkness is upon us, and I’m hungry. If you keep me waiting much longer, I’m going to throw you over my saddle and you can ride home like a sack of turnips.”

Nora giggled, and Christian released her.

“Please, sire. How can I teach my wife to respect me if you make such threats?”

Taking Christian’s hand again, Nora said, “You may ponder that dilemma on the way home, my lord. And I will help you mount. A good wife would never risk having her husband look like a sack of turnips.”