Return of the Rose Page 11

  Besides, it was time to go in search of Amanda and the Earl of Kensington. She had waited long enough, procrastinating with unreasonable thoughts of lurking danger when the real problem was that she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Braddock, and especially Derek Vanguard. Something about that man made her want to seek him out at every turn. It was time to do something about her situation…time to search for the real Amanda. She would find shelter in the village or at an inn. She pushed open the heavy lid of Amanda’s trunk and rummaged through the neatly piled clothes until she found her jeans, T-shirt, and a small purse filled with coins. She dressed quickly, putting on the tennis shoes she’d had on when she first arrived in this century.

  There was leftover bread on the tray from this morning which she shoved into a leather pouch. She needed to get far away, find a way home while her heart was still intact. Her feelings for Derek were spiraling out of control, causing her to lose direction and focus. Besides, she missed her mother back home. Her mother must be worried sick about her.

  She threw on Amanda’s woolen cloak, hoping to pass the guards without attracting much attention. With all the excitement over Derek’s lady friend, hopefully they’d be too busy to notice her at all.

  She made it to the stables without anyone trying to stop her. The blacksmith was busy fitting a horse with new shoes. Further on, two men were digging holes that would be used to empty dirty basins and chamber pots. She heard laughter while passing the gardens, but the stone walls and high shrubs provided cover.

  Using the hood of the cloak to hide her face, she kept her gaze straight ahead as she arrived at the outer gates.

  “You there. State your name.”

  Morgan swallowed and said in a low, husky voice. “‘Tis Odelia, her ladyship’s maid. I have been instructed to go to the village for almonds. It seems our guest likes nuts.” She grimaced, praying she hadn’t ruined her chance of getting through the gates without Derek’s permission.

  “You may pass,” he said. “Make haste though, for the gates will close at sundown.”

  Morgan nodded as she hurried past.

  It was late afternoon by the time she arrived at the village. Judging by the crowds of people coming and going, she figured it had to be market day which she’d heard Odelia speak of on more than one occasion. Morgan stopped the first woman who passed by. Two children clutched at the woman’s stained brown skirts. A basket filled with bruised apples hung from the woman’s arm. Beneath the ragged cloth tied to the woman’s head was a gray mass of tangled hair.

  “Would you mind if I asked you a question?” Morgan pleaded.

  “I hath not the time,” the woman muttered.

  “I need to find a woman who looks a lot like me,” Morgan said anyhow, struggling to keep up with the woman as she headed onward. “I’ll pay you with coins for your help.”

  The woman did stop then and watched closely as Morgan slid back her hood. The woman gasped.

  “What is it? Have you seen someone who looks like me?”

  The woman nodded. “She is prettier than you but she lives at Braddock over yonder. The villagers say she is a witch and breathes life into the dead.”

  “Thanks,” Morgan said half-heartedly as she realized the woman was talking about her. “You’ve been very helpful.” She handed the woman one of two-dozen coins, no longer feeling guilty using Amanda’s clothes or spending her money. If Amanda wanted to claim her things, she’d have to come get them.

  The woman smiled broadly as her kids clamored to see the shiny coins. Thoroughly disappointed, Morgan set off again. Hours later she was down to her last two coins. As she wondered what to do next, a filthy old man approached her. She couldn’t see his face beneath his hooded cloak. She tried not to gag at the sour smell of him as he leaned close to her and said, “I hear you are looking for a woman with golden hair and sparkling eyes,” the man said, hacking out the last word.

  The man appeared sick and feeble; what harm could he do? Besides, she was desperate for some answers. “I don’t know about sparkling eyes,” Morgan said, taking a step back so she could breathe easier, “but I’m looking for a woman who looks just like me. Have you seen any such person?”

  “Aye,” he answered without pause, giving her hope.

  “Where?” she asked excitedly. “Where did you see her?”

  He was staring at her money pouch.

  “Oh, I only have two coins left, but you can have them both if you point me in the right direction.”

  “For two coins,” the man said eagerly, “I will take you there myself.”

  ~~~~

  Night was descending upon Braddock when Odelia burst into Derek’s office without waiting for permission. “My lord,” Odelia said, glancing nervously from Leonie to Lord Vanguard. “I must speak to you about Lady Amanda.”

  “What is it?” he asked irritably. His head pounded already as if a battering ram were laying siege to his head. Surely the maid was not going to tell him her ladyship was dying. Paperwork was piling up and he had yet to go over expenses with the cook and the marshal. Never mind the nearby manors needing his attention. And he had yet to reprimand Leonie for coming to Braddock without invitation, which was exactly why he had asked her to come to his office for a private chat.

  Although he’d never seen Leonie looking comelier, he was displeased with her coming to Braddock at all. And he certainly did not like her bringing a small entourage of servants whom he now felt obliged to feed.

  Odelia’s worried voice brought him back to the matter at hand. “It seems Lady Amanda has gone to the village alone,” she said. “I am worried for her safety. The guards at the outer gates told me of a woman dressed in a woolen cloak who left hours ago. She has not come back. Her ladyship should have returned by now, my lord, and I am certain she would have if she was not in danger.”

  “How can you be so sure? If ever there was a woman who could take care of herself, ‘tis your lady Amanda.”

  The elderly maid’s shoulders wilted before his eyes.

  Derek raked his hands through his hair, glanced outside at the darkening sky, and found himself suddenly on his feet, surprising even himself at his sudden concern. “Have the stable master ready my horse. I will see what detains your lady.”

  “Oh, thank you, my lord. God bless you.”

  After Odelia left, Leonie quickly maneuvered her way around the table until she stood before him. “Surely you do not intend to leave me here to dine alone? I have come a long way to see you, my lord.” She slipped her slender arms around his neck, pressing her soft bosom to his chest. “I have missed you,” she went on. “I hoped since our last meeting that you have had time to reconsider. Please do not go.” She took his hand and placed it firmly on her bosom.

  The feel of her breast restrained within its velvety confinement made his loins harden. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman.

  He glanced out the window. Night was fast descending upon them. The thought of Amanda out there alone gnawed at some deep hidden conscience he had not been aware existed until this moment. He dropped his hand and headed for the door. “We will talk later.”

  Morgan walked along with the sickly old man, stopping and waiting for him every few minutes as he coughed and staggered through the brush. As the sky darkened, she became aware of what a foolish thing she’d done, putting her trust in a strange man, following him on a pathless route through the forest. Shivers coursed over her as the small hairs at the back of her neck stirred. “Are you sure this is the way?”

  Before he could answer, a heavily bearded man bolted from a thick cluster of tall shrubs and pointed a dagger their way.

  Morgan turned toward the old man for help, but there would be no help from him, she realized too late. Obviously this had been their plan all along, and she’d easily fallen into their trap. Without hesitating further, she clutched at the hem of her cloak and ran. If she could get back to the edge of the forest, she might have a chance. She heard the thumping of foot
falls and the crushing of leaves behind her. They were gaining on her. She ran faster, jumping over shrubs and dodging low branches. Her pulse raced; branches tore at her clothes. A bolt of pain shot up her side as a man’s full weight clung to her and she was yanked to the ground. She kicked at the man on top of her, screaming and scratching at every part of him. It was working, too, until the other man caught up and took hold of both her arms, pinning her to the ground. Rocks and thorns bit into her skin. The horrid smelling man brought forth his dagger. She struggled helplessly as he pressed the sharp tip of his knife to her neck. She screamed for help as he sliced through her cloak and T-shirt, ripping the fabric from her chest. When the knife was at his side, she butted his back with her knee, but he only laughed at her efforts.

  The sickly man pulled his hood off, revealing his face.

  “Otgar,” she said, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  “I am flattered by your remembrance of me,” Otgar said. “I, too, have not forgotten you. Nor the way you hungered for me the day I found you in the woods. Now we shall both have our due.”

  “You’re a madman,” Morgan said through gritted teeth. “I should have known it was you from the horrid smell of you alone, you dirty bastard. Get off me or Lord Vanguard will make you pay.”

  Otgar laughed like a hyena. “You need not worry about him ruining our fun. It is another comely wench who keeps him busy this night.”

  Morgan spit in his face.

  “You stupid wench! Do that again if you like, for it only makes my loins grow harder to see you squirm and fight. Come now, wriggle your slender body beneath me like an animal in heat.”

  She did exactly that. It didn’t matter what he told her; she wouldn’t ever lie still while he groped at her with his stained hands and exhaled his horrid breath on her face and neck. She felt his lips on her throat and she bit down on his ear when he turned his head.

  Otgar jerked back with a hiss and jabbed the sharp tip of his knife into her cheek. “Do that again bitch and I will slice your neck clean through as though you were but a deer. Either way I will enjoy your soft mounds of flesh beneath my eager hands. Matters not to me whether you are alive and kicking or stone dead.”

  Certain that he meant every word, Morgan stopped fighting him. She would live. If only for the sake of seeing Otgar pay for what he was doing to her now. She shut her eyes and waited as he plunged his dagger back into his belt.

  Her arms throbbed in pain. They were pulled tight above her head and the other man’s full weight was on them. Tears slid down the side of her face as Otgar’s repulsive wet lips licked the drop of blood that his dagger had caused on her cheek. One filthy hand fondled her knee and drool seeped out from his crooked mouth as his hand slid up her thigh.

  The ground vibrated beneath her, and she was sure it was the devil laughing at her. But then a new awareness registered and the vibrations turned to a heartening drumbeat of thundering hooves. She opened her eyes and saw the white mane of Derek’s horse and the steel of his blade flashed through the night. She inhaled, never so relieved to see anyone in her life.

  Quicker than his companion, Otgar jumped to his feet and took off running, disappearing into the forest. The other man released her arms and staggered to his feet, standing rigid against a tree. With the tip of Derek’s blade already sharp against his belly, the man begged for his life.

  She tried to stand, but her legs would not support her. Derek glanced down at her, his gaze taking in the blood and terror on her face. She wasn’t sure whether she would have protested or not, but before she could try and move again, Derek’s stallion reared up, causing the blade of his sword to finish what it had started.

  Blood spurted from the man’s body and Morgan threw her hands over her face and cried. She cried for the hideous man’s life. She cried for her mother back home, and she cried for the parents she’d never met. And then she cried for the loss of her heart to a man she could never call her own.

  ~~~~

  Derek came to stand before her. Bending down, he placed his mantle around her shoulders. She didn’t stir, not even when he picked her up and carried her home.

  Derek watched over Amanda long into the night. He sat near the hearth within her bedchamber, staring blindly into the flickering light. It was well past midnight and the castle was quiet. As he gazed upon her thoughtfully, something inside of him stirred. Tonight she had shed every tear possible. His heart had ached at the sound of her whimpering for they were not the sounds of helpless whining from a feeble woman, but the cry of one who mourned for something lost, something irreplaceable and significant.

  She could have been killed. Seeing her trapped beneath those men had made his blood thicken. He had felt no mercy. Never before had he felt such utter wrath. His furor would not rest until Otgar was dead. His jaw hardened and the tic there began to throb. His forbidding expression did not soften as he touched her cheek, soft like the rest of her. He held a loose tendril of hair between his fingers, taking pleasure in its silkiness.

  ~~~~

  Kicking frantically at the covers, Morgan fought for her freedom and swung her arm outward, knocking a silver goblet from the bedside table.

  Odelia rushed to her side and grabbed her shoulders. “My lady, wake up. Amanda, please!”

  Morgan opened her eyes. Beads of perspiration gathered on her forehead. “Odelia. Thank God it’s you.”

  “And let us thank the Lord that you are safe.”

  Morgan’s voice cracked. “I don’t mean to cause you so much trouble, Odelia. I’m confused and I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

  “My lady, if only you would learn to talk to me before you do such things. If you truly do not like it here at Braddock, then send message to your father. Tell him you cannot stand the sight of Lord Vanguard. Tell him that you never want to see him again. Your father will understand. He will listen if only you tell him the truth.”

  “I wish it were that easy. It’s not that I can’t stand the sight of Lord Vanguard. Actually it’s quite the opposite effect he has on me.”

  Odelia pointed a finger at her. “Ah-ha, I thought as much. But why then did you run away?”

  “Because he doesn’t care for me the way I care for him. And even if he did…” She might disappear without notice, in an instant, and he’d think she’d abandoned him. Not wanting to upset Odelia further, she kept her thoughts to herself.

  “‘Tis nonsense you speak. If you care for him at all…show him. Why end something that has not yet begun? Besides, a broken heart never killed anybody.”

  Odelia tilted her face upward for a better view of the cut on her cheek. “Do you have any other wounds?”

  Morgan shook her head. “Some bruising is all.”

  “You will not have Otgar to worry about again. When that hideous man is found, he will be hung from the highest tree. Now promise me you will dress yourself and make an appearance before this day is over.”

  “Is that woman still here?”

  Odelia nodded.

  “I don’t know if I can stand to see her fondling him again.”

  “Have it your way,” Odelia said, “although you were the one who his lordship watched over all through the night.”

  “He was here?”

  “Right there,” Odelia said, pointing to the chair next to the bed. “All the more reason for you to join his lordship this evening. No need to hide from that other woman. She is not his lordship’s betrothed. You are, my lady. Besides, you can teach me how to play chess as you promised.”

  ~~~~

  Derek leaned forward and clasped his hands together on top of his desk, paying no heed to Leonie as she rambled on. The curtains were pulled back. Another day had passed and once again darkness descended as his mind filled with thoughts of last night. When he went in search of Amanda last night, some villagers had sworn they had seen her, but nobody knew of her whereabouts. After heading back toward Braddock and cutting a path through the forest, he had heard a woman’s cries for he
lp. Never in his life had he felt such panic as he did in that moment. He was a warrior, for God’s sake, experienced in warfare and trained to stay calm amidst conflict. But hearing her screams had caused fear to clamp down upon him, twisting his gut without mercy.

  “Please, my lord, tell me you are not bothered by my visit,” Leonie said again, distracting him from his thoughts. She sat stiffly within the chair before him. Unlike her spine, her voice was soft when she spoke. “I was on my way to visit a friend and thought only to stop by and see how you were faring. That is the only reason I made this untimely visit, I swear.”

  Derek raised a brow. There had to be more.

  “Surely you do not find anything wrong in that?” she asked. Under his stern gaze, Leonie wriggled uncomfortably within the chair. “Tell me I have done nothing wrong, my lord. After all, we have known each other in such an intimate way.” She fluttered her lashes and feigned an act of modesty. “I can think of no reason why you would be distraught by my visit. Surely ‘tis not because you are afraid of your betrothed’s reaction to my coming here?”

  Derek saw right through Leonie and still managed to say naught. He knew what she was up to. Womanly games. She was much too predictable. So much so, he was sure she would offer to leave just to please his betrothed. And, of course, expect him to fully decline such an offer so that his pride would remain intact.

  “If my stay would aggravate your betrothed, my lord, I will leave tonight…before sundown.”

  Derek stood, feeling the weight of these past days on his shoulders. “That would be an unselfish gesture on your part to do so, Leonie.” He tried not to smile at her look of sheer disbelief that he would let her leave. “Lady Amanda will surely appreciate the inconvenience you would dare put yourself through for her well being. If you would like, I will have Matti provide you with assistance in your packing. We will have you off and visiting your friend before the morrow.” He flashed her his most charming grin.