Montague - The Warlord Part 2

2.

Barely an hour pa.s.sed before the marriage papers were signed and the small group was shown to their horses. The ceremony was a blur to Tess, dazed as she was. Her uncle's words of good wishes were vague to her ears as he took her arm at the end of the ceremony and led her from the chapel.

"Do your duty," Ian told his niece gruffly. They stood outside the abbey gates where he engulfed the girl in a tight hug. "Make your family proud, la.s.s."

"I will." Tess lowered her gaze guiltily. It was possible that her plan would make her family proud, she reasoned. Much as she'd like, she knew she couldn't go to Scotland with her uncle. Scotland's King Alexander was Dunmore MacLeith's ally and would only order Uncle Ian to return her to her stepfather. She couldn't allow her uncle to fall into ill favor with his king. She hugged her uncle fiercely, wondering what her reception would be if she ever saw him again. "G.o.d keep you safe."

"Try not to worry," he said lightly, his troubled expression belying his words. "You'll frown so much that the Montagues will think you related to bears."

Tess tried to give him an encouraging smile but failed. She knew her time was running out when Uncle Ian gave her hand a quick, rea.s.suring squeeze. Baron Montague nudged his horse forward, then leaned down and lifted her effortlessly into his lap.

'Twas odd, being held so close to the stranger who was her husband. Her head barely reached his shoulders and his arms easily circled her to hold the reins. She was pressed against his hard body from the top of her head to her heels and his warmth surrounded her on every side. She decided she rather enjoyed the feeling of being protected by so much power. Scowling over her fanciful thoughts, she reminded herself that his power might be used against her someday.

"I know you will treat her well, Baron," Ian called over his shoulder. There was a clear note of warning in his voice.

"I'll keep her safe," the baron replied arrogantly, as if insulted by the implication that he wouldn't.

Safe. That was the word Tess was searching for. She hadn't felt safe in years. Wasn't it odd that the man known throughout England for his cruelty should provide the feeling so effortlessly? Her body relaxed a little, and she leaned her head back against the baron's broad shoulders.

Kenric raised one hand in farewell, then wheeled his horse around, anxious to get closer to his fortress. The sky was beginning to turn pink on the horizon, and he knew Tess would be discovered missing within the hour. Fortunately, he didn't have to cross Remmington land as Ian must. The Scot would be d.a.m.ned lucky to make the ride across the border to his own fortress without coming across one of MacLeith's patrols. There was a hard two-day ride ahead of them, but they would reach his first patrol in a few hours. He'd stationed over two hundred men farther ahead at intervals along the road, knowing they were less likely to be set upon early in their flight. He wanted his men and their horses fresh and rested if they needed to face MacLeith in the open. He took a moment to wrap the edges of his cloak around his wife, then spurred the stallion forward.

With the plan well under way, he had no need to worry about their journey. Kenric's thoughts turned instead to his new bride and what a pleasant surprise she'd turned out to be. A moment later, he felt her head nod against his chest as she drifted off to sleep. Every soft curve seemed to melt against his hard frame, bringing an unexpectedly heated reaction from his loins. He was amazed again at how easily the girl could inflame him. He couldn't keep his groan contained when she shifted her hips and snuggled closer to his warmth. She was arousing him enough to make the ride painful. He pulled the horse back to a walk and took several deep, cleansing breaths in an effort to ease his discomfort.

"Is something amiss?" Fitz Alan questioned, pulling up to his side.

"Nay," Kenric answered, harsher than intended.

"Are we there?" Tess asked sleepily.

"The horses need to walk for a while," Kenric lied in a clipped voice. "Go back to sleep."

Kenric tightened his grip on Tess and pulled her back against his chest, wanting nothing more than to lead her into the deep woods and ease the incredible l.u.s.t she stirred in him. The reasonable side of his mind said the idea was foolish. The sun was well in evidence and they could encounter MacLeith's men at any time. Besides which, it was too d.a.m.ned cold. Still, the thought was distracting.

"I did not think I would fall asleep so easily." She stretched and wiggled around until Kenric placed a firm hand on her hip to stop the maddening action. "You are amazingly warm, milord."

Tess couldn't see Kenric's grimace until she turned slightly in the saddle.

"Would now be a poor time to ask a question?" She raised her eyebrows hopefully, but the baron's forbidding expression didn't change. Nor did he answer. Rudeness seemed to be his most dominant trait. Unable to meet his intimidating gaze a moment longer, she casually turned her attention to the road, ignoring his silence. "I was wondering what name I should call you by."

"I am your lord and master, Lady. You may address me as 'milord,' or 'Baron,' or... 'husband.'"

The man's arrogance left Tess speechless. She considered thanking him for allowing her to speak at all, but thought better of the idea. She would behave civilly for the duration of this farce, even if he did not. "What I meant to ask was your given name, husband. I know your t.i.tles, Baron Montague, but I do not know your Christian name."

He had the audacity to smile at her. Tess quickly dropped her gaze back to the road, half afraid she would betray her anger and smile back.

"My name is Kenric."

Though her hood was between them, Tess could almost feel his lips against her ear and his breath against her cheek. She marveled at the way his deep voice seemed to steal her breath away.

"You may call me by such whenever we are alone, wife."

After a moment of silence, he pulled her hood aside.

"You find some humor in my name?"

"Hm?" she inquired absently.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Your voice," Tess answered dreamily. "I can feel it. Right here." She placed her palm between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a soft laugh in her voice. "It tickles."

Kenric stared at her small hand until his body told him it was time to breathe again and he had to look away. He closed his eyes and a thousand images flashed before them. Most contained his very naked wife. He snapped his eyes open and scowled, disgusted with himself and his lack of control. This was too much. The girl was either an expert in seduction or the sweetest innocent alive. But he was determined to be safely inside Montague Castle before finding out the truth of her charms.

"You appear to enjoy my company well enough for a woman who wanted to be a nun." The guilty look on his wife's face reminded him of her reluctance at the altar. That helped cool his blood.

"I have a confession to make," she said quietly, sounding remorseful. "I have thought long on this matter and feel it best to inform you of my sin."

That announcement caught Kenric off guard. He could almost feel the blood in his veins turn to ice. She's had a lover, he thought grimly. How thoughtful of her to unburden her pious little soul before he discovered the truth for himself. His face became hard, his expression meant to prepare her for the rage that would follow. If she thought he would find this confession n.o.ble, she was wrong. Though he was bound to keep her even if she'd had a score of lovers, he didn't have to like it. He reined in the horse and waved Fitz Alan ahead, remaining silent until he was sure their conversation would be private.

"I'm all ears," he drawled sarcastically.

"I told a lie to the priest." She spoke so softly that Kenric had to lean forward to hear. He frowned but waited for her to continue. "I told him I did not want to marry."

"Tell me the rest of it, Tess." Kenric's voice was quiet but there was no missing the fury lurking there.

" 'Tis rare that I tell a lie, milord, and never before to a priest," she hurried to explain. "I would not blame you if you think me wicked, but I did so want this to end without bloodshed."

"Well?" he growled.

"Well, when we met in the chapel I was not displeased with the idea of marrying you, but I had to try to avert this war and the convent plan seemed like such a good one. Then again, since I was asking to become a nun, I couldn't very well admit to Father Olwen that I was taken with you right from the start and the idea of being your wife was quite appealing. Nuns do not have such earthy thoughts. Oh... I mean... I really didn't have much time to think about being your wife, but I was quite intrigued with the notion. Even though I shouldn't have thought about being a wife at all, not if I truly was of a mind to become a nun. Oh, Lord!" Tess felt her cheeks flame red, surprised at everything that had somehow fallen out of her mouth. Curse and rot her tongue! Why not just openly admit that she l.u.s.ted after the man? Her poor husband looked stunned. He was certainly wondering what kind of woman he'd married. Tess looked away. Gaining his trust by admitting the lie was the stupidest idea she'd ever imagined.

"Look at me, Tess," he demanded sternly. She lifted her gaze, her eyes filled with embarra.s.sed tears. He cupped her cheek with one hand and brushed his thumb across the creamy surface. "You are telling me the truth now?"

"Aye," she admitted. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, unable to look him in the eye another moment. "Though I did not intend to tell quite so much."

The smile she saw curve his mouth astonished Tess. She leaned back to see the rest of his face and watched in amazement as his eyes changed from a dark, steely color to a soft shade of gray.

It was him, she realized in stunned disbelief. Kenric of Montague was the man she saw in her dreams! The image that had suddenly come to life before her eyes stirred other realizations. Ian had once said her grandmother had the ability to catch small glimpses of the future, but Tess never knew she too possessed the strange skill until this instant.

She needed to think more on such an important revelation, but at the moment she couldn't seem to think beyond her husband's captivating smile. She lifted one hand to his cheek, fascinated by the rough growth that said he'd been a day without shaving. Kenric's smile disappeared the moment her hand touched his face.

"Your eyes are gray," she said softly, their gazes meeting.

"I'm glad you told me."

"You didn't know your eyes were gray?" she asked, her hand falling to his shoulder.

It took Kenric a moment to get his own thoughts gathered enough to follow the conversation. Those eyes of hers were enough to bewitch a saint. They actually changed color with her mood. Sapphires one moment, amethysts the next.

"I knew," he replied. He lifted Tess's hand and placed a kiss in the palm, smiling over the shiver he felt go through her. "I'm glad you told me how you felt when we first met. 'Tis no sin to appreciate your king's choice."

She blushed and tried to turn away again, but Kenric easily caught her chin, curious to see her reaction in the color of her eyes. Deep, dark blue, he mused, his lips curving into a smile.

"Are you angry that I lied to Father Olwen?" she asked hesitantly.

"Nay, Tess." Kenric couldn't resist placing a light kiss on her forehead. He immediately liked the feel of her beneath his lips, but forced himself to pull away. Her shy confession would be rewarded, settling the idea of taking her into the woods once and for all.

"The lie was a sin, but told for n.o.ble reasons," he conceded, his manner once again arrogant, his expression closed. "Women cannot always be held accountable for their actions."

Tess bit her lip, willing the sharp words to stay in her mouth. This was not the time to start an argument. Especially when she wasn't exactly armed with overwhelming proof to argue his opinion of women. Instead she nodded stiffly and turned her back to him, hoping the wretched man would be sensible enough to realize why she was angry. There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him, to find out anything she could to make her escape easier. But the man needed a good dose of silence to think over his rude remark.

Had she actually imagined Baron Montague a fit man to judge her sin? Accountable, indeed. Any kind ideas she'd harbored about him were pushed aside. He thought her inferior, a child who could not be punished for failing to recognize the difference between right and wrong. Hah! That was a good one. As if the Butcher of Wales could distinguish between the two.

Kenric smiled over the top of his wife's head, satisfied by the stiff set of her shoulders that said he'd hit his mark. He spurred the horse forward, more anxious than he'd ever been to reach Montague Castle.

The first sign of trouble came less than an hour later. A twelve-man patrol rode straight toward them, each soldier wearing a MacLeith plaid.

Kenric and Fitz Alan quickly a.s.sessed the situation and decided the chances were good that the patrol didn't know of Tess's disappearance. The band was riding north, probably returning from a courier mission to London. Kenric guided their horses to the side of the road and slowed to a walk. He'd wrapped Tess securely beneath his cloak to shield her from the biting wind, but quickly threw the edges over his shoulders where the garment wouldn't be in the way of his sword arm.

"Wake up, Tess."

The words were softly spoken, but Tess responded to the urgency in Kenric's voice and the sudden tension in his body. She quickly pushed aside the lingering grogginess, knowing instinctively that something was wrong. Kenric leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"A MacLeith patrol is approaching but I doubt they know you are missing. They ride from the south. Keep your face covered and do not let go of my waist no matter what happens."

Before she could nod in agreement, Kenric lifted her from his lap and swung her around to seat her behind his back. She pulled her hood low, wrapped her trembling arms around her husband's waist, and began to pray.

The soldiers approached quickly, but slowed to meet the travelers. The sound of hooves, the jingle of harnesses, and creaking of leather faded until there was silence, interrupted again as a horse nickered, answered by another.

"Greetings," their leader called out. He was a coa.r.s.e, insolent-looking man with a full, bushy beard that seemed an attempt to make up for his thinning hair. His gaze shifted between the two knights, his gaze plainly curious. "What brings honest men out on such a miserably cold day?"

"We travel from Revensforth to Montague," Fitz Alan lied glibly, a look of utter sincerity in his warm brown eyes. He rubbed the dark stubble of his own emerging beard. "Baron Montague has returned from the king's wars and 'tis rumored he seeks warriors to replace those lost in battle. My cousin and I have fulfilled our service to Baron Revensforth, and hope to enlist our services with Montague."

The leader's small eyes traveled slowly over the mercenary knights. His horse pawed the ground nervously, as if awaiting a decision. A bad sign, that. A skittish horse was often the sign of a nervous master. The man grunted and nodded toward the road.

"We travel to Remmington. The road is clear ahead?"

"Aye," Fitz Alan answered. "We've met with no trouble."

"Then I'll bid you good day." The soldier began to turn his horse aside, then stopped. He leaned sideways in the saddle, trying to get a closer look at Tess. When that failed, he turned his attention to Kenric.

" 'Tis doubtful Montague will accept your sword if you are burdened with a wench. Is she valuable enough to risk your livelihood?"

"She is my wife," Kenric replied with a shrug. "She'll earn her keep."

The soldier nodded, but made no move to leave. His hooded gaze shifted from Kenric to Fitz Alan, then back again to Kenric. Both recognized the telling action. He was sizing up his opponents.

"My men and I have had a long, cold ride from London." The soldier didn't take his eyes from Kenric, but one hand flexed on the hilt of his sword. "A good week has pa.s.sed since any of us had a woman to warm our loins." The soldier gave an almost imperceptible signal and his men drew their swords. Crossing his arms across the high pommel of his saddle, he leaned forward, grinning unpleasantly at Kenric. "Perhaps your woman could earn her keep on the king's road as well."

The man's grin turned evil, but then it faded when neither man moved a muscle. Kenric and Fitz Alan just stared at him.

"Of course we'd pay you for her services." His horse began to paw the ground in earnest and he straightened in the saddle.

Kenric drew his sword so fast that the soldier barely had time to flinch before the blade found his neck. The other men watched in disbelief as their leader toppled from his horse and those lost moments cost two more their lives. The soldiers quickly fell into the spirit of the battle, splitting their numbers to attack the two knights separately. Yet they soon regretted their dead leader's hasty challenge.

Kenric and his horse worked as though joined together, but Tess felt as if she'd grabbed hold of a lightning bolt. Or a warrior in battle. Keeping her grip around Kenric's waist was a near impossible task, requiring her full attention. Each time his sword lashed out she could feel the bone-jarring blows in her own body, the force nearly jolting her off the horse. She couldn't imagine what it was like to be on the receiving end of those blows.

Kenric and Fitz Alan set about their job with the methodical precision of seasoned fighters. The dense woods guarded their backs and they kept their horses' rumps close enough to provide additional protection while allowing ample room to wield their swords. Though the two warriors traveled without their heavy shields, they evened the odds by wielding a sword in each hand, one to thrust and one to parry.

" 'Tis the Remmington b.i.t.c.h!" one of the soldiers cried out when Tess's hood fell back. "Kill him! He has the girl!"

Kenric took advantage of the distraction to drive his sword into two more soldiers. Fitz Alan wasn't as lucky and brought down only one, but the Scots were half their original number.

One of Fitz Alan's foes tried to surprise Kenric by attacking from the right. He was unsuccessful, but kept Kenric distracted long enough for another to move past the baron's blades to his unprotected left side. Three men attacked Kenric with a vengeance while the fourth worked on separating Tess from the baron's waist. The task was made more difficult by Kenric's broadsword, falling every other blow on the man's battered shield.

The soldier became desperate when one of his comrades fell in the frontal attack. He let go of his shield and lunged forward to wrap his arm around Tess's neck, giving one mighty tug. She surprised him by going so willingly that they both fell backward off their horses. Sprawled out flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him, the soldier opened his eyes to find an enraged angel looming overhead.

"Do not move."

Tess held the blade of a needle-sharp dagger at the soldier's neck, but she didn't notice his hand inching toward the sword he'd dropped in the fall. The man kept shifting his eyes nervously to one side, so Tess turned the point of the knife to rest against his throat, intending to p.r.i.c.k him just once to hold his attention. He brought the hilt of his sword down on her head at the same instant. The blow was ill-aimed, causing more surprise than pain, but the force of his attack knocked Tess forward. Her knife slid forward into his neck with sickening ease, right up to the hilt.

Tess threw herself off the wounded man with a pained gasp, as if she'd been burned. She scrambled backward on the cold ground to a safe distance and stared at the fallen soldier, morbidly fascinated by the sight. Blood was everywhere, gushing from his neck like a macabre fountain. Anyone who lost that much blood shouldn't be alive, but she could still hear his gasping, gurgling breaths. Strangely enough, the man didn't try to tend the injury. One hand clutched the sword to his chest, the other hand lay useless above his head, twitching every so often.

The tortured breathing finally stopped and his skin quickly turned as pale and hard as wax, his lips a vivid blue. She wouldn't have recognized him now as the same man who attacked her. Tess slowly leaned forward and pulled the bloodied plaid over the death mask, too stunned to say a prayer for his soul. She stood up and walked a few paces toward the woods, trying to block the ugly sight from memory. She didn't see the other soldiers fall, or Kenric's quick but frantic search for her.

"I told you not to let go!" Kenric bellowed as he leaped from his horse. He grabbed Tess by the shoulders and dragged her around to face him. "You let go on purpose!"

She didn't flinch or show any other emotion while her husband shouted in her face, but her eyes filled with tears.

Kenric couldn't remember the last time he'd yelled at anyone, much less a woman. His anger was always as cold and chilling as steel, his displeasure communicated in low, deadly tones that were much more effective than a raised voice. That his wife could have no idea how truly furious he was only served to make him angrier.

"He had me by the neck," Tess whispered. Her voice rose shakily as she placed her hands on Kenric's arms to steady herself. "If I'd held on he would have pulled you off balance, giving an advantage to the others attacking from the front."

"Never disobey me again!" Kenric shouted, completely ignoring her flimsy explanation. He couldn't resist the urge to shake Tess just once before wrapping her in a tight bear hug. His heart was still racing from the unfamiliar fear he'd experienced when she was pulled away from his side, knowing she was unprotected, completely vulnerable. He'd fought with a demon's rage then, quickly dispatching the fools who'd threatened to take what was his.

"Hush now," he said gruffly. Tess was weeping all over him. G.o.d, how he hated a woman's tears. But he didn't seem to mind stroking her hair, finding it just as soft and silky as he knew it would be. The scent of spring flowers drifted across his senses and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the fanciful notion. "There's no need to cry. You're safe now."

She mumbled something against his chest. Kenric lifted her chin and waited for her to look at him. He marveled that the woman could remain so appealing through tears. "What did you say?"

"I said, I always felt safe." Tess sniffed loudly, looking disgruntled. "A fine wife I'd be if I didn't trust my husband to keep me safe."