Heather Graham (28 page)

W
HEN DANIELLE AWOKE, SHE
did so from a deep fog. Colors around her seemed muted. She could only half open her eyes and she was only aware of things very close to her—the sheets beneath her, her pillow, the fast-fading trail of light that caught dust motes in the air above the bed as it reflected from the archer’s slit across the room.

She shifted, and found the simple movement difficult, shifted again, and realized she was sore from head to toe. The night came blazing back at her then, waking her fully, snapping her mercilessly from the fog. She ignored her aches and leapt out of bed, then streaked across the room for water to douse her face, then her body. She nearly dumped the entire pitcher and bowl atop herself, then stood shivering in the room, for the fire was dying. After a moment, she started back to life again as she wondered just how late it was. Shadows should be filling the corners of the room once again,
and just where was Adrien and what had he done with poor Simon?

She frantically dragged clothing from her trunk and dressed, then started to comb out her hair but gave up when she found that her fingers were shaking and her hair was in a hopeless mass of tangles. She threw her comb down with an oath, turned to leave, but hesitated, her eyes on her bed. The covers and sheets were twisted and tangled, nearly wrenched from the bed. They carried proof that her marriage had been consummated, and not from chicken blood. Her ringers wound into her palms and she felt herself trembling again and longing to shake Adrien until he begged for mercy. Once he had allowed Edward to seize Aville. Now, he had laid claim to the fortress. And to her.

And he had Simon. At his mercy.

She hurried from her room and down the stairs to the great hall. Rem was there, aligning goblets and trenchers upon the table. There were far fewer than there had been last night, for now that their wedding feast had been celebrated, only the immediate household—increased somewhat by Adrien’s arrival—would dine in the hall. “My lady!” he said and beamed with pleasure as he saw her. He was a gentle man, tall and very slim, sometimes appearing to be little more than a long bag of bones. She’d known him all her life, and he seemed as much a part of Aville as the stones of its walls.

“We were not to disturb you,” he told her. “The earl is not due to return until dusk, but my lady, you must be hungry. May I get you something to eat?”

“No, thank you, I’m not hungry. Rem, can you tell me where Laird MacLachlan has gone?”

“To the field with the men. They are at archery practice.”

“Thank you, Rem,” she said, and turned to leave him. She hurried out into the courtyard and saw that the gates were open, the bridge down. Her people were busy about their lives again—craftsmen at their stalls, young girls watching flocks of squabbling ducks, housemaids carrying wine pails, coopers at their crafts. She was greeted with calls of “Milady!” as she passed through, a number of bows, and, she thought, smiles, for everyone seemed to want to grin at the mere thought of a wedding night. She gritted her teeth, acknowledging the greetings with nods and smiles.

She strode into the stables, telling the young groom who dropped his hay-spreading task to serve her that she could tend for herself. She didn’t take time to bother with a saddle. She slipped a bridle over Star’s nose, looped her gown so that she could leap up on the mare astride, and rode out of the stable quickly. A guard from atop the parapet called out to her, but she ignored him, riding hard across the field where targets were kept for archery practice.

Horses grazed at a distance from the men, who were aligned on foot. Daylin stood at one end of the grouping next to Ragnor, while Adrien strode along the list of men, dropping a word here or there, a suggestion, a comment. He came to a youth who had missed the center of the target entirely. The young man apologized profusely for his error, but Adrien clapped him upon the back and warned, “Steady nerves are needed here, lad. Pay no heed to what is around you, keep your eye firm upon the target, so.” He took the long bow from the man, deftly drew an arrow, paused a split second, and let the missile fly.

To Danielle’s great irritation, the arrow found its mark with exacting precision. Adrien returned the bow to the youth and ordered him to try again, warning him to concentrate.

The arrow found its mark and cheers went up among the men.

Amidst the noise, Adrien turned and saw her. His features were unfathomable, his gold gaze dispassionate, but she was certain he was annoyed she had come here. He called to Daylin, who then saw Danielle as well, nodded, and called out to the next man to draw his bow. Adrien strode to Danielle, reaching up without pause to draw her down from Star.

“It’s not proper for you to be riding bareback and astride,” he told her irritably.

“I ride so frequently.”

“Not, milady, in the future.”

She was beginning to wish she had not come; she felt flushed at his nearness. She eased a foot away from him, stroked Star’s nose, not looking at him, and said with quiet determination, “You will not walk into my life after such an absence, sir, and think to instruct me
in your ways
at this late date!”

“Nay, Thibald!” Daylin was crying to one of the young men of Aville. “ ’Tis like the earl said, lad, concentration!”

Without really thinking—just determined to put some distance between herself and Adrien for a moment’s respite—Danielle started forward to the line.

“Danielle! Get back here, you could be hurt!” Adrien called after her, but she ignored him and came to Thibald, taking his long bow and an arrow just as Adrien had done moments before with the other young man. “I agree that it’s in the concentration, Thibald,” she told him. “In battle, you cannot be aware of the confusion around you, only of your target.” She prayed she would not falter as she studied her target, then let her arrow fly. God was with her! Her arrow arced and flew beautifully. But then, she had studied in the household of a king’s son, with the finest masters available. She felt a satisfied smile curl her lips as her arrow struck the target with the same precision as Adrien’s. The men applauded her. She smiled and thanked them, twisting about to acknowledge each man, pausing when she saw that Adrien watched her with his arms folded across his chest and no look of surprise. He had expected her to hit the target with perfect aim, and had merely waited impatiently for her to perform before the men.

“A contest!” someone cried out suddenly. “A contest between our lord and lady!”

He hadn’t been expecting that! Danielle thought with pleasure, and he didn’t seem pleased with the prospect. But to her surprise, he shrugged, unfolded his arms, and came forward, accepting a bow and a quiver of arrows from Daylin while more arrows were brought forward for Danielle. Men sprang forward to clear the target, using a small piece of charcoal to narrow in smaller segments for a contest between such experienced contestants. Then Adrien and Danielle stood side by side, close, as the others retreated.

“Begin!” Richard Huntington called cheerfully, having determined he was the master of the game.

Danielle looked to Adrien. He bowed slightly to her. “Ladies first. Though, under the circumstances,” he added quite softly, “I do use the term quite generously.”

She smiled, ignoring the taunt, and took aim with her first arrow. It fell very close to the dead center of the target and she was immediately cheered.

“What a wondrous accomplishment for a wife!” Adrien said, drawing his bow, taking aim himself. “Imagine, had you been born a poor peasant lass, your husband might have come in from a wretched day in the fields seeking his supper, but alas! He would find his good wife ready to shoot arrows for him instead!”

“But, sir, I was not born poor, but rather to rule a castle. Which it appears I do well enough, for even in such a skill as this, I am your equal, sir.”

He let his arrow fly. Like hers, it landed almost dead center, just a breath from her own. Once again, the men cheered.

“Milady!” Richard encouraged her.

She slipped an arrow from the quiver and drew her bow.

“Alas, milady,” Adrien mused, “born a rich countess, and still, born not to rule a castle, but serve the lord who, as destiny’s son, was born to rule
her!
”

She let her arrow fly. To her own amazement, it struck the target between the arrows there already. Gasps were heard again; she had surprised even herself. It had been an incredible shot. Another round of cheers and applause went up, along with warnings to Adrien. “Ah, milord! ’Tis impossible!”

Danielle smiled sweedy. “Alas, milord. Whatever I was born, there is no lord alive who will rule me.”

He smiled slowly in return, gold eyes sparkling with fire. “That’s to be seen, isn’t it, my love?” he inquired politely. Then he raised his voice and cried out with assurance to his men, “Nothing, my good fellows, is impossible!”

His eyes remained on Danielle while he drew his bow-string and set his arrow. Then he turned to the target.

Seconds seemed like eternity.

His arrow flew …

And split hers straight down the middle. Sir Richard cried out in delight, other men rushed forward to stare at the target with disbelief.

Danielle didn’t believe it herself, but as the others milled around, all staring at the target, she felt Adrien’s smug and self-satisfied gaze upon her once again.

“So?” he said softly.

“So, milord,” she replied politely, “had this been battle—and had you been my target—you’d not have been able to strike back, because it wouldn’t have mattered that I had pierced your heart just a bit to the side of dead center!”

He was smiling, mockingly she thought. “I was not referring to the contest. I was wondering why you had come here. Did you miss me? Have I been gone too long from our marital bed?”

The blood drained from her face. “An eternity, my lord, would not be too long.”

“Oh, milady! I don’t suppose it would be chivalrous to denounce you as a complete liar—”

“What has ever been chivalrous in your manner to me?” she cried.

“Indeed! Fine. Then, my lady, you are a liar.”

“Adrien, for the love of God, I demand to know what you have done with Simon!”

“Ah!” He arched a brow, studying her, a smile playing at the corner of his lip once again. “Simon … ah, yes! Simon, the young man guilty of plotting treason against King Edward whom I discovered fondling my all-but-naked bride last night, right?”

“Damn you, Adrien, he isn’t English, so his plotting against an English king would not be treason.”

“So he did plot to seize Edward’s holdings?”

“I did not say that! Adrien, you will tell me, now!”

The smile faded from his lips and his gaze was sharp. “Perhaps, lady, you should quit making demands. I’ve not forgotten how I discovered the two of you together. You might want to beg my forgiveness and mercy for the event—for, I assure you, young Simon was quick to do so.”

She paled still further. “What—what did you do to him?”

“Nothing, my lady. Nothing at all. I needed to do nothing for him to realize that he must beg my pardon, and beg for his life as well.”

He turned away from her, striding for Star. When he reached the mare, he threw the reins over the horse’s neck and gave her a swat on the rump, sending her to race home across the field. Close on Adrien’s heels, Danielle demanded, “Why did you do that? Am I to walk home? Is that some bizarre punishment?”

He wheeled on her. “Punishment? Nay, lady. I’ve missed you in the few short hours we’ve been apart, and would have you ride with me, that is all.”

“Don’t mock me, Adrien, you’ve not missed me at all, you’ve been playing war games. You don’t intend to let me ride astride Star—that is all!”

He didn’t respond, but called out to his men. “Lads, we’ve finished here for the day—darkness comes quickly!” He whistled and his well-trained mount—Matthew today—obediently trotted toward him. He set Danielle atop the animal’s back quickly, then leapt up behind her. She sat as stiffly as stone, gritting her teeth against the constricting feel of the arms that came around her. He nudged his mount with his heels, and they moved ahead of the others at a slow lope. Night was indeed coming quickly. The very last pale pink rays of the sun rested on the stone walls, and the castle of Aville shone as if it were created of marble.

Adrien reined Matthew to a walk. Danielle was startled when he spoke to her, his voice surprisingly husky and soft. “It is always to be a contest, then, milady? If so, remember, you have long been forewarned. Take care, for I do not lose in battle or in games.”

“But I very nearly won,” she told him. “And you should take care as well, milord, for I do not give in, in life or in games.”

“Whether you admit defeat or not, Danielle, I am the victor.”

She sighed softly. “Do you speak of the archery contest—or Aville? Is there no state of compromise?”

“Compromise!” he repeated, and laughed. “With you, my love? I doubt it. But at least you’ve quit haunting me regarding your—friend. You enjoy a fight, because you’re always determined you’ll win. You’ve forgotten Simon again—as you did in the thrill of nearly besting me at archery.”

She hadn’t realized that she had leaned against him until she stiffened angrily, trying to sit straight and away from him. He laughed, and drew her back.

“Adrien, no more games—”

“All right,” he said flatly, “no more games. Your Simon is a wealthy man. I have sent him with an escort to Prince Edward, who will see to it that he is sent to England and held for ransom.”

“But—”

“He remains in full possession of his head, heart, limbs, and so on, if that is your next question.”

“Adrien—”

“That will be enough on Simon,” he said firmly.

She bit into her lower lip, and remained silent. When they returned to the hall, she fled from him as soon as he had eased her to the ground. She hurried on into the keep, restless and unnerved and anxious to accept the wine Rem offered her as she entered the great hall.

Within minutes, Adrien entered behind her, followed by his close retainers. It seemed to add insult to injury to see that her own companions, Lady Jeanette and Monteine, entered into the hall with Adrien’s newly arrived men, chatting and laughing.