Chapter Four
Evil is the man who has known honor and discarded it.
Baron Louddon was only a half day’s hard ride from where Duncan and his soldiers were camped. Luck was on Louddon’s side, for he was able to ride during the night hours by the light of a full, bright moon. His soldiers equaled Duncan’s men in loyalty and numbers, and not one complained over this sudden turnabout in plans.
A half-mad servant had chased them down to give them the news of Duncan’s foul deed. They had all returned to Louddon’s fortress then. All had witnessed the message left by Baron Wexton. Aye, all had seen the mutilated bodies of those soldiers left behind to guard Louddon’s domain. The men joined together in outrage and vengeance, and every one of them vowed to be the one to kill Duncan.
The fact that they had all joined with Louddon and acted with treachery toward Baron Wexton was ignored now; they concentrated, instead, on avenging their leader.
Louddon had been quick to decide to go after Duncan. His reason was twofold. Foremost was the realization that his own plan to destroy Baron Wexton by dishonorable means would be unveiled, making him a coward to be ridiculed in court. Duncan would alert William II, and the king, though he favored Louddon, would nevertheless be forced to issue a battle to the death between the adversaries in order to end what he’d probably deem a petty difference of opinion. The king, called Rufus, the Red, because of his fiery face and disposition, would certainly be irritated over the squabble. Louddon knew, too, that if he had to face Duncan alone on a field of battle, he’d come out the loser. Baron Wexton was an invincible warrior who had shown his ability countless times. Aye, Duncan would kill him if given the chance.
Louddon was a well-skilled man, yet it was in areas that would give him little aid against the likes of Duncan. Louddon was a power to be reckoned with in court. He acted the role of secretary of sorts, though he couldn’t read or write and left those mundane matters to the two priests in residence. When the king was holding court, Louddon’s primary duty was to sort out those who had true business with the king, and those who didn’t. It was a powerful position. Louddon was a master manipulator. He instilled fear into those lesser-titled men who willingly paid for the opportunity to speak to their king. He paved the way for these eager men, lining his pockets with their gold.
Now, if his attempt to kill Duncan became known, he could lose everything.
Madelyne’s brother was considered to be a handsome man. Blond hair with nary a crinkle of curl to mar the shine, hazel eyes with chips of gold, tall as well, though reed-thin, with perfectly sculptured lips. And when he smiled, the ladies at court all but swooned. Louddon’s sisters, Clarissa and Sara, shared the same color of wheat-white hair and hazel eyes. They were almost as pretty as Louddon was, and just as sought after.
Louddon was known as a most available bachelor and could have his pick of any woman in England. He didn’t want just any woman though. He wanted Madelyne. His stepsister was the second reason Louddon chased after Duncan. Madelyne had returned home to him only two months past, and after having forgotten her for most of her growing years, he’d been given a shock when he saw the remarkable changes in her appearance. She’d been such an ugly child. Large blue eyes had swallowed up most of her face. Her lower lip had been too full, her expression set to pouting most of the time, and she’d been so skinny as to look sickly. Aye, Madelyne had been such an awkward child, with long, bony legs that caused her to stumble whenever she tried to curtsy.
Louddon had certainly misjudged her potential. In childhood there had been no sign in her appearance suggesting she might one day look so much like her mother. Madelyne had turned from embarrassment to beauty, so lovely, in fact, as to outshine her stepsisters.
Who would have thought such a miracle could happen? The timid caterpillar had changed into a lovely butterfly. Louddon’s friends also had been quite speechless when they’d first seen her. Morcar, Louddon’s closest confidant, had even begged him for Madelyne’s hand in marriage, putting pounds of gold in front of his petition.
Louddon didn’t know if he could let Madelyne go to another man. She was so like her mother. When he first saw her, he’d reacted physically. It was the first such stirring for a woman in so many years, Louddon was all but undone by it. Only Madelyne’s mother had been able to affect him in such a way. Ah, Rachael, the love of his heart. She had ruined him for other women. He couldn’t have Rachael now; his temper had stolen her from him. Louddon had believed his obsession would end with her death. A foolish hope, he now admitted. No, the obsession lived on. Madelyne. His stepsister could well be his second chance at proving himself a man.
Louddon was a man tormented. He couldn’t decide between his greed and his lust. He wanted Madelyne for his own use, but wanted the gold she’d bring too. Perhaps, he thought, if he was shrewd enough, he could have both.
Madelyne awakened in the most awkward position. She was on top of Duncan. The side of her face rested on his hard, flat stomach, her legs were entwined with his, and her hands were wedged between his thighs.
Because of her sleepy state of mind, Madelyne didn’t immediately realize exactly where her hands were resting. Duncan felt so warm, though … so hard. Oh, Lord, her hands were snuggled against the most private part of him.
Madelyne’s eyes flew open. She tensed against her captor, not daring to even breathe. Let him be sleeping, she prayed frantically as she slowly edged her hands away from his heat.
“So you’re finally awake.”
Duncan knew he’d given her a fright when she jerked against him. Her hands slammed into the junction of his legs. Duncan groaned in reaction. Hell, she’d make him a eunuch if he gave her half the chance.
Madelyne rolled to her side, daring a quick look up at Duncan. She thought she probably should apologize for accidentally bumping him there, but then he’d know she was quite aware of just where her hands had been, wouldn’t he?
Oh, heavens, she could feel herself blushing. And Duncan was frowning again this morning. He didn’t look disposed to listening to any apology she made anyway, so she put the worry aside.
He looked ferocious. Aye, the new growth of dark brown beard actually made him look more like a wolf than a man, and he was watching her with a curiosity she found unnerving. His hands continued to span her back. She remembered then how he’d warmed her throughout the night. He could have just as easily harmed her. Madelyne realized she was trying to encourage her fear of him, yet was honest enough to admit that the truth was really quite the opposite. Oh, Duncan did frighten her, but not in the same way Louddon did.
Today was the first time in weeks, since she’d returned to her brother’s home in fact, that she hadn’t awakened with a sick knot of fear lodged in her stomach. She knew the reason too; it was because Louddon wasn’t there.
Duncan wasn’t like Louddon at all. Nay, a man who wished to inflict cruelty certainly wouldn’t have shared his warmth while they slept. And he’d kept his word too. He hadn’t taken advantage … dear God, she’d kissed him. She suddenly remembered every bit of it with a clarity that sent her pulse racing.
Thank the Lord she’d learned to hide her feelings. Madelyne was certain her expression wasn’t giving her horrible thoughts away. That was a bit of grace, wasn’t it? Aye, she thought with a little sigh. Duncan couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking.
Duncan watched Madelyne, secretly amused by the way she showed him one emotion after another. Her eyes gave her away; in the past few minutes he’d seen fear, embarrassment, and, he thought, relief as well.
He was a man conditioned to finding the flaws in others. As a warrior, knowing what was in his opponent’s mind quickened his own reactions. He had also learned to find out what his enemy most valued. And then he would take it away. It was the way of fighting men, yet those lessons had spilled over into his personal relationships as well. It wasn’t possible to separate the two. And though Madelyne was unaware of it, she’d already given him important hints about her character. She was a woman who valued control. Keeping her emotions hidden seemed an important quest. Madelyne had already shown him that not all women were ruled by their emotions. Only once during the destruction of her home did she show any outward reaction. She’d screamed in anguish when she saw the mutilated body of Louddon’s vassal. Yet Duncan doubted Madelyne even knew she’d lost control.
Aye, Duncan was learning all of Madelyne’s secrets, and what he’d learned thus far perplexed him. God’s truth, she pleased him too.
Duncan moved away from Madelyne, else the urge to take her back into his arms and kiss her again would become too strong to ignore. He was suddenly very eager to get home. He wouldn’t feel at ease until he had Madelyne safely protected behind the walls of his fortress.
Duncan stood, stretched his muscles awake, and then walked away from Madelyne, all but dismissing her from his mind. The sun was climbing into the milky clouds above, clouds that would surely block any heat to melt the night’s frost covering the ground. There was much to do before the light was sufficient for their journey. Though the new day was already bitter with chill, the wind was mild enough to please Duncan.
Madelyne knew they’d ride soon. She put on her shoes, brushed the dirt from her gown, and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders. She knew she looked a sight and decided she’d have to do something about it.
Madelyne went in search of Ansel. The squire was readying Duncan’s stallion. Madelyne asked him where her satchel was, though she stood a safe distance from the great beast and had to yell her question, and then thanked the boy profusely when he threw the bag over to her.
She was only going to wash the sleep from her eyes, but the clear water was too tempting. Madelyne used the scented soap she’d packed in her satchel to give herself a quick bath and then changed her gown.
Lord, it was cold. Madelyne was shivering by the time she finished dressing. She wore a pale yellow ankle-length chainse with a rich gold-colored knee-length bliaut over it. A band of royal blue needlework circled the long sleeves of the tunic.
Madelyne repacked her satchel and then knelt down by the stream and began to brush the tangles from her hair. Now that she was rested, and her mind wasn’t consumed with fear, she had plenty of time to think about her situation. The uppermost question was to find out why Duncan had taken her with him. He had told her she belonged to him. Madelyne didn’t understand what he had meant by that remark, yet was too timid to ask him to explain.
Gilard came to fetch Madelyne. She heard his approach and turned in time to watch his approach.
“It’s time to ride,” Gilard bellowed. The force of his voice nearly pushed her into the water. Gilard hastily reached out and yanked her to her feet, inadvertently saving her from disgrace.
“I’ve still to plait my hair, Gilard. Then I’ll be ready. And you really needn’t shout at me,” she added, deliberately keeping her voice soft. “My hearing is actually quite good.”
“Your hair? You’ve still to …” Gilard was too stunned to continue. He gave Madelyne a look that suggested she’d lost her mind. “You’re our captive, for God’s sake,” he finally managed to stammer out.
“I had surmised as much,” Madelyne answered. She sounded as serene as the morning breeze. “But does that mean I may or may not finish arranging my hair before we ride?”
“Are you trying to goad me?” Gilard shouted. “Lady Madelyne, you’re in a tenuous position at best. Are you too simpleminded to realize it?”
Madelyne shook her head. “Why are you so angry with me? You shout every word. Is it your usual custom, or is it because I’m Louddon’s sister?”
Gilard didn’t immediately answer. His face turned a blotchy red though. Madelyne knew she was infuriating him. She was sorry for it, yet decided to continue to bait him all the same. Gilard obviously lacked control over his temper, and if she could nudge him enough, perhaps he’d tell her what was going to happen to her. Gilard was much easier to understand than his brother. And so much easier to manipulate, if she was clever enough.
“Why was I taken captive?” she blurted out. The blunt-ness of her question made her wince. She hadn’t been very clever after all, and was therefore quite surprised when Gilard actually answered her.
“Your brother set the terms of this war, Madelyne. You know that well enough.”
“I don’t know anything well enough,” Madelyne protested. “Explain it to me, if you please. I would like to understand.”
“Why do you play the innocent with me?” Gilard demanded. “Everyone in England knows what has taken place over the past year.”
“Not everyone, Gilard,” Madelyne returned. “I only just returned to my brother’s home two months ago. And I lived in a most isolated area for many years.”
“Aye, that is right,” Gilard sneered. “Lived with your defrocked priest, I understand.”
Madelyne could feel her composure slipping. She wanted to scream at the arrogant vassal now. Did everyone in England believe that horrible rumor?
“Very well,” Gilard announced. He seemed ignorant of Madelyne’s fury now. “I will tell you all the truths, and then you’ll not be able to pretend any longer. Louddon’s soldiers attacked two holdings belonging to Duncan’s loyal vassals. In each attack there was needless slaughter of women and children. The vassals weren’t given any warning either; your brother pretended friendship until his men were inside the fortresses.”
“Why? Why would Louddon do such a thing? What could he hope to gain?”
She tried not to show how appalled she was by Gilard’s words. Madelyne knew her brother was capable of such treachery, yet couldn’t understand his motive. “Surely Louddon knew that Duncan, as overlord, would retaliate.”
“Aye, that was his hope, Madelyne. He’s been trying to kill Duncan,” he added with an obscene laugh. “Your brother is greedy for power. He has only to fear one other man in England. Duncan. They are equal in power. Louddon is known to have the king’s ear, true, but Duncan’s soldiers are the fittest warriors in all the world. The king values my brother’s loyalty as much as he values Louddon’s friendship.”
“The king allowed this treachery?” Madelyne asked.
“William refuses to act without proof,” Gilard answered. His voice sounded his disgust. “He defends neither Louddon nor Duncan. I can promise you this, Lady Madelyne. When our king returns from Normandy, he’ll not be able to evade the problem any longer.”
“Then Duncan hasn’t been able to act on his vassals’ behalf?” Madelyne asked. “That is the reason my brother’s home was destroyed instead?”
“You’re naive if you believe Duncan didn’t retaliate. He ousted the bastards from his vassals’ holdings immediately.”
“In kind, Gilard?” Madelyne whispered her question. “Did Duncan also kill the innocent as well as the guilty?”
“Nay,” Gilard answered. “The women and children were left alone. We Wextons aren’t butchers, Madelyne, regardless of what your brother has told you. And our men don’t hide behind false colors when they attack either.”
“Louddon has told me nothing,” Madelyne protested again. “You forget that I am only a sister. I’m not worthy enough to be privy to his thoughts.” Her shoulders sagged. Lord, there was so much to think over, so much to reason out. “What will happen if the king takes Louddon’s side? What will happen to your brother?”
Gilard heard the fear in her voice. Why, she was acting as though she cared about Duncan. That made little sense, considering her position as captive. Lady Madelyne would confuse him if he allowed it. “Duncan is a man of little patience, and when your brother dared to touch a Wexton, he sealed his fate. My brother won’t wait for the king to return to England so that he can command a battle to the death with your bastard brother. Nay, Duncan is going to kill Louddon, with or without the king’s blessing.”
“What do you mean when you say Louddon touched a Wexton?” Madelyne asked. “There was another Wexton brother and Louddon killed him?” she surmised.
“Ah, so you pretend you know nothing about Adela either, is that the way of this game?” Gilard demanded.
A knot of dread settled in Madelyne’s stomach, for she’d caught the frightening look in Gilard’s eyes. “Please,” she whispered, her head bowed against his hatred, “I must know all of this. Who is Adela?”
“Our sister.”
Madelyne’s head jerked up. “You would war because of a sister?” she asked.
She looked quite astonished. Gilard didn’t know what to make of such a reaction. “Our sister went to court, and while she was there, Louddon caught her alone. He raped her, Madelyne, and beat her so brutally it is a miracle she survived. Her body has healed, but her mind is broken.”
Madelyne’s composure snapped. She turned her back on Gilard so he wouldn’t see the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Gilard,” she whispered.
“And you believe what I’ve just told you?” Gilard demanded, his voice harsh. He wanted to make certain Lady Madelyne wouldn’t be able to deny the truth any longer.
“A part of this story, aye,” Madelyne answered. “Louddon is capable of beating a woman to death. I do not know if he could rape a woman, though, but if you say it is the truth, I will believe you. My brother is an evil man. I’ll not give him my defense.”
“Then what is it you don’t believe?” Gilard asked, back to shouting again.
“You make me think you value your sister,” Madelyne confessed. “That is the confusion.”
“What in God’s name are you talking about?”
“Do you rage against me because Louddon dishonored the Wexton name or because you actually love your sister?”
Gilard was enraged by such an obscene question. He grabbed hold of Madelyne and jerked her around to face him. His hands painfully gripped her shoulders. “Of course I love my sister,” he shouted. “An eye for an eye, Madelyne. We have taken away from your brother that which he most values. You! He’ll come after you, and when he does, he’ll die.”
“So I am responsible for my brother’s sins?”
“You are a pawn to draw the demon out,” Gilard answered.
“There is a flaw in this plan,” Madelyne whispered. Her voice sounded with shame. “Louddon won’t come after me. I’m not significant enough to him.”
“Louddon isn’t a fool,” Gilard said, infuriated because he suddenly realized Madelyne meant what she said.
Neither Madelyne nor Gilard heard Duncan approach. “Take your hands off her, Gilard. Now!”
Gilard was quick to comply, even took a step back, putting distance between himself and their captive.
Duncan started toward his brother, intending to find out why Madelyne was weeping. He let Gilard see how furious he was.
Madelyne placed herself between the two brothers. She faced Duncan. “He didn’t harm me,” she said. “Your brother was only explaining how I am to be used. That is all.”
Duncan could see the pain in Madelyne’s eyes, yet before he could question her, she turned, picked up her satchel, and then added, “’Tis time to ride.”
She tried to walk through Gilard to get back to their camp. Duncan watched his brother hurry to get out of Madelyne’s way.
The younger brother was looking worried. “She wants me to believe she’s not guilty,” he muttered.
“Did Madelyne tell you that?” Duncan asked.
“Nay, she didn’t,” Gilard admitted with a shrug. “She didn’t defend herself at all, Duncan, but she acted so damn innocent. Hell, I don’t understand. She seemed surprised that we would care about our sister. I think it was a true reaction too. Why, she actually asked me if we valued Adela.”
“And when you answered her?” Duncan asked.
“She seemed all the more perplexed. I don’t understand her,” Gilard muttered. “The sooner this plan is seen through, the better. Lady Madelyne isn’t at all what I expected her to be.”
“She is a contradiction,” Duncan acknowledged. “God’s truth, she doesn’t understand her own value.” He sighed over his observations and then said, “Come, the hour grows old. We’ll be home by nightfall if we make haste.”
Gilard answered the command with a nod and fell into step beside his brother.
On her way back to camp, Madelyne decided she wasn’t going anywhere. She stood in the center of the clearing, her cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Ansel had taken her satchel and she hadn’t argued with the squire. She didn’t care if her baggage went with Duncan. God’s truth, she didn’t think she cared about anything anymore. She just wanted to be left alone.
Duncan started toward the squire, wanting to finish his battle dress. He motioned for Madelyne to get on his stallion, then continued on. He suddenly stopped and slowly turned back to look at Madelyne, however, disbelieving what he thought he’d seen.
She told him no again. Duncan was so amazed by her show of defiance, he didn’t immediately react. Madelyne shook her head a third time and then abruptly turned and started to walk back into the forest.
“Madelyne!”
Duncan’s roar stopped her. She instinctively turned to look at him, praying inside for the courage to defy him again.
“Get on my horse. Now.”
They stared at each other a long, silent moment. Madelyne then realized everyone else had paused in his duties and was watching. Duncan wouldn’t back down in front of his men. The way he was staring at her told her that much.
Madelyne picked up her skirts and hurried over to stand directly in front of Duncan. The men might be watching, but if she kept her voice soft, they wouldn’t be able to hear what she said to their leader.
“I’m not going with you, Duncan. And if you weren’t so stubborn, you’d realize Louddon won’t come after me. You’re wasting your time. Leave me here.”
“To survive in the wilderness?” Duncan asked, his voice just as whisper-soft as hers had been. “You wouldn’t last an hour.”
“I’ve survived worse situations, milord,” Madelyne answered, straightening her shoulders. “My decision’s made, Baron. I’m not going with you.”
“Madelyne, if a man were to deny my order the way you just have, he wouldn’t live long enough to boast of it. And when I give a command, I expect it to be carried out. Don’t dare shake your head at me again, else I’ll backhand you to the ground in retaliation.”
It was a distasteful bluff on Duncan’s part, and he regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was gripping her arm, knew that he was inadvertently hurting her when she grimaced in pain. He let go immediately, fully expecting her to run as fast as she could to do his bidding.
Madelyne didn’t move. She stared up at him, that grand composure back on her face, and calmly said, “I’m used to being knocked to the ground, so do your worst. And when I regain my feet, you may strike me down again if that is your wish.”
Her words disturbed him. He knew she was telling the truth. He frowned, infuriated that someone had dared to mistreat her and knew, in his heart, that Louddon was the one who’d meted out the punishment. “Why would your brother—”
“’Tis not important,” Madelyne interrupted before Duncan could finish his question. She was sorry now she’d said anything. Madelyne didn’t want sympathy or pity. All she wanted was to be left alone.
Duncan sighed. “Get on my horse, Madelyne.”
Her temporary bluster of courage deserted her when she saw the muscle in the side of Duncan’s cheek flex. The movement accentuated his clenched jaw.
Duncan made a low, growling sound deep in his throat venting his frustration. He turned her until she was facing the area where his stallion was tethered and gave her a gentle push. “You’ve given me yet another reason to kill Louddon,” he whispered.
Madelyne started to turn around to ask Duncan to explain his remark, but the look in his eyes suggested his patience had worn thin. She accepted the fact that she’d loss this argument. Duncan was determined to take her with him, no matter what she said or did.
She let out a long, sorry sigh and then started to walk toward Duncan’s horse. Most of the soldiers still hadn’t resumed their tasks. They all watched Madelyne. She tried to appear serene. Inside, her heart was beating fast enough to burst. Though the fear of Duncan’s temper weighed heavily upon her peace of mind, there was a greater immediate concern that pricked her now. Duncan’s beast. It was one thing to be grabbed and thrown on top of the huge ugly monster, and quite another to mount without aid.
“What a coward I am,” Madelyne muttered to herself. She copied Father Berton now, for he often spoke to himself, remembered, too, that he once told her no one was more interested in what he had to say than himself. Madelyne actually smiled over that fond remembrance.
“Oh, Father, if you could see me now, how ashamed you’d be. I’ve a demon horse to mount and will surely disgrace myself.”
The irony of her worry finally penetrated her fear. “Why am I worried about disgracing myself, when Duncan’s horse is going to trample me to death? What will I care if they think I’m a coward? I’ll already be dead.”
Her argument helped lessen her fear. Madelyne was beginning to calm down a little, until she noticed the stallion appeared to be watching her. The animal didn’t like what he saw, either, Madelyne concluded, when he began to stomp the ground with his front paws. He even snorted at her. The stupid horse had taken on all the odious characteristics of his master, Madelyne decided.
She gathered her courage and walked over to the stallion’s side. He didn’t like that much and actually tried to nudge her away with his hind flank. Madelyne reached up to grab hold of the saddle, but the horse let out such a whinny, she jumped back.
Madelyne put her hands on her hips in exasperation. “You’re bigger than I am, but certainly not as intelligent.” She was pleased to see the horse actually glanced at her. She knew he couldn’t possibly understand what she was saying, but it made her feel better all the same just to have his attention.
She smiled at the beast while she timidly edged her way to the front.
Once she faced the animal, she pulled on the reins, forcing his head down. And then she began to whisper to him, her voice low, soothing, as she carefully explained her fears. “I’ve never learned the way of riding and that is why I’m so afraid of you. You’re so strong, you could trample me. I’ve not heard your master call you by name, but if you belonged to me, I’d call you Silenus. ’Tis the name of one of my favorite gods from the old stories. Silenus was one of the mighty spirits of nature, wild and untamed, very like yourself. Aye, Silenus is a fitting name for you.”
When she’d finished her one-sided conversation, Madelyne let go of the reins. “I’ve been ordered by your master to climb upon your back, Silenus. Please stand still, for I’m still very afraid of you.”
Duncan had finished his dress. He stood across the clearing now, watching with growing astonishment as Madelyne talked to his horse. He couldn’t hear what she was saying. Lord, she was trying to gain the saddle from the wrong side. He started to shout a warning, certain his horse would bolt, but the words wedged in his throat when he saw Madelyne seat herself on the top of the huge animal. It was all incorrect and certainly strange. He had to sigh over it. Now he understood why Madelyne clung to him when they rode together. She was frightened of his horse. He wondered if her ridiculous fear was confined to his stallion or to all horses.
The skittish stallion hadn’t moved a muscle to disrupt Madelyne’s awkward climb into the saddle. And damn if she didn’t lean down and say something else to the animal once she was settled.
“Did you see what I just saw?” Gilard asked the question from behind Duncan’s back.
Duncan nodded but didn’t turn around. He continued to stare at Madelyne, a smile catching the corners of his mouth.
“Who do you suppose taught her how to ride?” Gilard asked, shaking his head in amusement. “She doesn’t seem to possess the least amount of skill.”
“No one taught her,” Duncan commented. “That much is obvious, Gilard. Odd, but my horse doesn’t seem out of sorts over Madelyne’s lack of education.” He shook his head then and began to walk toward the lady under discussion.
The young squire, Ansel, approached Madelyne from the opposite direction. He had a snicker on his freckled face and began to lecture Madelyne on her inferior abilities. “You’re to mount on the left,” he said with great authority. He took hold of Madelyne’s hand, as if he would pull her to the ground so that she could remount correctly. The stallion began to prance just as Duncan appeared. Ansel’s hand went flying, as did the rest of his body.
“Don’t ever touch her again.” Duncan’s roar followed Ansel to the ground. The squire quickly regained his feet, apparently unscratched from the fall, and nodded his compliance.
The poor lad looked so horrified over displeasing his lord that Madelyne intervened on his behalf. “Your squire was thoughtful enough to instruct me,” she stated. “He wanted to help me back to the ground, for I foolishly forgot in my haste to mount from the proper side.”
Ansel gave Madelyne a grateful look before turning back to bow to his lord. Duncan nodded, apparently satisfied with the explanation.
When Madelyne realized Duncan was about to mount Silenus, she squeezed her eyes shut, certain she was about to be hurled to the ground.
Duncan saw Madelyne close her eyes before she turned her face away from him. He shook his head, wondering what in God’s name was the matter with her now, and then gained the saddle and lifted Madelyne into his lap in one swift action.
Madelyne was wrapped in his thick cloak and settled against his chest before she could worry over the deed.
“You’re no better than Louddon,” Madelyne muttered to herself. “Think I didn’t notice that you didn’t even take the time to bury your dead before you left my brother’s fortress? Aye, I noticed all right. You’re just as ruthless. You kill without showing any sign of remorse.”
It took all of Duncan’s self-discipline not to grab hold of his captive and shake some sense into her. “Madelyne, we did not bury our dead, because none of my men died.”
Madelyne was so surprised by his answer, she dared a look up at him. The top of her head bumped his but she didn’t pause to apologize. “There were bodies all over the ground, Duncan.”
“Louddon’s soldiers, Madelyne, not mine,” Duncan answered.
“Do you expect me to believe that your soldiers are so superior that they—”
“I expect you to quit goading my temper, Madelyne,” Duncan answered.
She knew he meant what he said when he slapped the cloak back over her head.
He was a horrible man, Madelyne decided. And he obviously didn’t have a heart. Aye, he wouldn’t be able to kill so effortlessly if he were gifted with human emotions.
In truth, Madelyne couldn’t imagine taking another person’s life. Having led such a sheltered existence with only Father Berton and his two companions left her ill prepared for the likes of Louddon or Duncan.
Madelyne had learned that humility was a treasured goal. She forced meekness in front of her brother. Inside, she raged. She prayed she didn’t have a dark soul like Louddon. They did share the same father. Madelyne wanted to believe she was given only the goodness from her mother’s side of the family and none of the vile traits from her father. Did she fool herself over such a hope?
She was soon too exhausted to worry. This day’s journey was proving to be the most difficult to bear. Her nerves were strained to the breaking point. She heard one of the soldiers remark that they were almost home, and perhaps because she believed the end was in sight, each hour seemed much longer.
Rough, hilly terrain slowed their progress. Duncan wasn’t able to keep up his usual neckbreaking pace. Several times Madelyne was certain the big stallion was going to stumble, and she spent most of the long, torturous day with her eyes closed and Duncan’s arms around her. Aye, she worried herself into exhaustion, convinced that they were about to be thrown into one of the deep, jagged crevices Silenus seemed so fond of getting as close to as possible.
One of the soldiers shouted the news when they finally reached Wexton land. A resounding cheer echoed throughout the hills. Madelyne sighed with relief. She sagged against Duncan’s chest and felt the tension ease out of her shoulders. She was too tired to worry over what would happen to her when she entered Duncan’s home. Just getting off Silenus was blessing enough for now.
It had turned bitterly cold during the day. Madelyne was growing more and more impatient as the minutes since gaining Wexton land turned into long hours and still not a single glimpse of Duncan’s fortress.
Daylight was fading when Duncan called a respite. It was Gilard who nagged him into stopping. Madelyne could tell from the harsh exchange of words that the stop wasn’t to Duncan’s liking. She noticed, too, that Gilard didn’t seem the least offended by his brother’s harsh remarks.
“Are you weaker than our captive?” Duncan asked Gilard when he had insisted on taking a few minutes to rest.
“My legs have lost all feeling,” Gilard returned with a shrug.
“Lady Madelyne hasn’t complained,” Duncan commented after raising his hand to signal his men.
“Your captive is too frightened to say anything,” Gilard scoffed. “She hides beneath your cloak and weeps against your chest.”
“I think not,” Duncan answered. He jerked the cloak away so that Gilard could see Madelyne’s face. “See you any tears, Gilard?” he asked, amusement in his voice.
Gilard shook his head. Duncan was trying to make him feel inferior to the beautiful woman he held in his arms. He wasn’t the least upset by the ploy and actually chuckled. The desire to stretch his legs and taste a bit of ale were his only concerns now. Those, and the fact that his bladder was near to bursting.
“Your captive might be too simpleminded to know fear,” Gilard remarked with a grin.
Duncan wasn’t amused by the remark. He dismissed Gilard with a frown fierce enough to send his brother running, and then slowly dismounted.
Duncan watched Gilard until he disappeared into the forest, and then turned back to Madelyne. She reached out to him for assistance, placing her hands on the curve of his broad shoulders. She even tried to smile.
Duncan didn’t smile back. He took an infinitely long time getting her to the ground, however. His hands spanned her waist when he pulled her toward him, but as soon as they were eye level with each other, and just a scant space apart, he stopped.
Madelyne straightened her legs with a groan of pain she couldn’t quite contain. Every muscle in her backside screamed in agony.
He had the audacity to smile over her distress.
Madelyne decided then and there that Duncan brought out the worst in her. How else could she explain this sudden, overwhelming urge to scream at him. Aye, he nudged the dark side of her character to the front. Why, she never, ever screamed at anyone. She was a gentle woman, gifted with a sweet, even-tempered disposition. Father Berton had told her that often enough.
Now this warrior tried to mock the gentleness right out of her.
Well, she wasn’t going to let that happen. Duncan wasn’t going to make her lose her temper now, no matter how much he grinned over her aches and pains.
She stared into his eyes, determined not to flinch this time. He was looking at her intently, as if he thought he might find an answer to some unsolved puzzle that was bothering him.
His gaze slowly lowered, until he was staring at her mouth, and she wondered over that until she realized she was staring at his.
She blushed, yet didn’t know why. “Gilard is wrong. I’m not simpleminded.”
His grin, damn his black soul, widened.
“You may let go of me now.” She gave him what she hoped was a haughty look.
“You’ll fall on your face if I do,” Duncan announced.
“And would that give you pleasure?” she asked, trying her best to keep her voice as whisper-soft as his had been when he made the disgraceful comment.
Duncan shrugged and suddenly let go.
Oh, he was a horrible man all right. He knew exactly what was going to happen. Madelyne would have fallen on her backside if she hadn’t grabbed hold of his arm. Her legs could not seem to remember what their duty was. “I’m not accustomed to riding for such long hours.”
He didn’t think she was accustomed to riding at all. Lord, she confused him. Without a doubt Lady Madelyne was the most perplexing woman he’d ever encountered. She was graceful when she walked, but could be incredibly clumsy too. She’d bumped her head against his chin so many times, he thought the top of her head must surely be bruised.
Madelyne didn’t have any idea what he was thinking. But he was smiling at her and that was a worry. She was finally able to let go of him. She turned her back on him then and slowly made her way into the forest to find privacy. She knew she was moving like an old woman and prayed Duncan wasn’t watching.
When she returned from the dense, wooded area, she circled the men, determined to work the aches and cramps out of her legs before she was forced back on Silenus again. She stopped when she reached the far corner of the triangular area, and stared down at the valley they’d just climbed.
Duncan didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry to set out again. That didn’t make sense to Madelyne, for she remembered how irritated he’d been when Gilard demanded they stop. Now he acted as though they had all the time in the world. Madelyne shook her head. Duncan of Wexton was the most confusing man she’d ever met.
She decided to be thankful for this respite. She needed a few more minutes alone to clear her mind of her worries; a few precious minutes of peaceful solitude to get her emotions under control.
The day was nearly gone, for the sun was setting now. Glorious streaks of bright orange and faded red lined the sky, arching downward, giving her the impression that they touched the ground in some distant spot. There was such beauty in the starkness of coming winter; each season held its own special treasures. Madelyne tried to ignore the noise behind her and concentrate on the beauty below, when her attention was caught by a spark of light that suddenly appeared through the trees.
The blink of light disappeared a second later. Curious, she moved to the right, until she captured the light again. Odd, but the spark seemed to come from another direction farther down the valley now.
The lights suddenly multiplied, until it appeared as if a hundred candles had all been lit at the same instant. They flickered and blinked.
The distance was great but the sun acted like a mirror, bringing the sparks closer and closer. Like fire, she thought … or metal.
She understood then. Only men wearing armor could account for such reflections.
And there were hundreds of them.