The Herald's Heart (13 page)

She became aware of Talon’s arms around her, aware that he stroked her hair and crooned to her the same tune she’d sung to Aedwin. His physical touch comforted, but could not make up for the massacre of her family or banish completely the memory of blood and death. Only the return of her home and lands and justice for her murdered family might bring some resolution. Those she would have or die trying. Nothing would ever erase her intimate knowledge of violence and death.

Talon held her while she finished her story, ending with the day she left the abbey after recovering her voice. She said she’d sworn then to find the proof of who she was so she could gain her heritage and justice for her loved ones.

The tears and quaking ceased when she fell silent once more. His arms circled her, pulling her to the warmth of his chest and giving comfort for the horrifying loss she had suffered. They sat, he knew not how long, in a shared silence vastly different than the seven mute years she’d described.

“Do any live who can verify your story?” He eased the question into the quiet.

“Even if I knew the name and face of my mother’s killer and he were willing to condemn himself by testifying against the earl, I could prove nothing. The only proof rests with the earl and within my family’s marriage box. The box is missing, and the earl is unlikely to admit he is as guilty as the henchmen who carried out the order.”

“You accuse a powerful man of a most foul deed, as well as lying to hide that deed.” Talon studied her for a moment, looking for some sign that she understood his point. “Why would any man, especially one as wealthy and powerful as the Earl of Hawksedge, do such a thing?”

She stirred and pulled from Talon’s sheltering arms.

“He is your father, in name at the very least. Your own experience must prove to you he is a cruel man.”

“True, but cruelty does not provide a purpose for the ambush and massacre of his wife and family.”

“Nothing save greed makes sense to me. Rosewood Castle is held through the women in my mother’s family. Each husband stands as guardian to the estate, but it belongs to his wife. The earl lusted after Rosewood and sought to gain it through marriage to me. I do not think he knew until after the proxy ceremony took place that even in marriage, he could not have Rosewood. After that ceremony, I remained at Rosewood until I was fourteen and my courses started. During that time, we heard more and more of the earl’s poor treatment of his first three wives. I begged and pleaded with my father to have the marriage annulled. He was all but convinced. However, he insisted on sending word to the earl before taking any action. The earl wrote back, inviting my family to visit Hawksedge Keep, where he would tell us the truth instead of the wild gossip being spread.”

Talon frowned. “You must admit that the invitation seems most reasonable.”

“Perhaps. My father certainly thought so. But the earl cast you from your home and family, so you will understand better than most what kind of man he is, how devastating is the loss of home and family.”

Understanding was a problem. Talon empathized with Larkin, but should empathy be the official basis for recognizing her as Lady Rosham? If he did publicly recognize her, it might increase the danger she was in. It would also force him to give up his hope of regaining his place at Hawksedge. And the only proof he had was her story and her skill with the Norman tongue.

“My father had not your experience of the earl’s cruelty. Despite my objections and my mother’s, Papa decided we would go and hear the earl out. Halfway to Hawksedge, when we camped for the night, Mother finally convinced Father to go home and request an annulment from the archbishop.”

So, she’d almost avoided the entire tragedy. If she had, Talon would never have met her. Would the earl now be wed to someone else and raising a child of that marriage? Or would the old man have failed to make another match, leaving Talon with the strongest claim to Hawksedge? Now was not the time for such questions. More solid proof must be found.

“We were breaking camp,” Larkin continued, “when an armed troop wearing the Hawksedge badge came upon us. They claimed the earl had sent them to escort his bride and her family. When my father announced that we were returning home, the earl’s men attacked. The rest is as I told you.”

“And this box you seek was lost to you during the battle?”

She nodded.

“Why is the box so precious?”

“As a herald, you should understand how difficult it is to prove one’s identity. The marriage box contains the record of every married woman in my family, from mother to grandmother to great-grandmother for generations. Papers concerning every birth, death, important event, descriptions of children and husbands are kept in the main compartment. A second compartment contains locks of hair from every bride, tied with ribbon from the dresses worn at their weddings. The hair and the ribbon can be compared with the relevant written descriptions to prove the bride’s identity and the bride’s ownership of Rosewood Castle.”

“Was there any other record of your marriage to the earl?”

“Not that I know of.”

“’Tis a miracle you survived.” He resisted the urge to pull her closer.

“Because I survived, I must seek justice for my family and regain my heritage. To do that, I must find the marriage box. Will you allow me to search unrestricted?”

“Search as you will, but you must continue to have a guard with you at all times.”

“What need for a guard? You know I am not trying to steal from the earl, and I’ve been traveling about the area alone for more than a year.”

“You said yourself that the earl and your mother’s murderer wanted no witnesses. Someone has already attacked you once. As long as you could not prove you were Lady Larkin, you were no danger to anyone. If it is known you search for proof, and it will be known, you become more of a threat. Thus you place yourself at risk. I will not have you alone and vulnerable.” If he sounded worried about her, ’twas only because he wanted her to understand how serious was her situation.

She frowned but nodded. “Very well, but I insist on having my own bedchamber.”

His jaw clenched. “Well enough. Use the chamber across the hall as you did before. I will have the carpenter install a sturdy bar on the inside. You will use that bar every night, or I will keep watch inside with you.” Until the earl returned and could be questioned, Larkin was in danger. Talon’s duty was clear. He must protect her at all costs, even though, without any intention, she would destroy his every hope of holding Hawksedge Keep.

• • •

The following afternoon, with the sun casting shadows in the bailey, Larkin waited for her escort to bring her a horse. She was on her way to gather burn blooms and, in the interest of peace, accepted the company of the young knight Cleve assigned to guard her. She paced the courtyard in front of the main keep. Had Talon believed all she’d told him? She wanted to be known as Lady Larkin Rosham and longed to be regarded as an honest, trustworthy person. Yet he was the only person who regarded her as such. She was uncertain his regard alone was enough.

She continued pacing an ever-lengthening path until she reached the far edge of the practice field.

Talon, shirtless save for a leather jerkin, spoke with a young lad, no more than a stripling, showing him a halberd. The weapon was nearly twice as long as the boy was tall. Nonetheless, Talon had the youth grasp the thick pole beneath one arm and support it with the other. Then the knight took the weapon and wrapped the sharp blade at the end with wool batting and cloth.

He gave the blunted pole arm back to the boy. Talon took up a similarly blunted halberd and walked to the opposite side of the practice field. He set his own weapon in the fashion that he’d shown the lad and motioned for the youth to charge. As soon as the stripling gained momentum, Talon, too, charged.

The poles clashed. A flurry ensued as man and boy continued to rush at each other. Then the boy was flat on his back with Talon’s blunted halberd point pressed to his neck. The youth’s own halberd lay tossed a man’s length from him.

Larkin had seen men practice with weapons before, but to pit a battle-hardened warrior against a youth seemed grossly unfair to her, even if the weapons were blunted. So she would tell him as soon as she returned.

Talon lifted his weapon and gave the boy a hand to his feet. They resumed their places and charged once more.

This time, the boy ceased his charge halfway then set his weapon on the ground, bracing it between his legs. He guided the distant end of the halberd with his hands, and Talon, who continued charging, could do naught to avoid running on the blunted tip. The impact unbalanced him and forced him to drop his weapon. The boy was up in an instant, his halberd held to Talon’s chest.

She’d been wrong. Talon was teaching in the most effective way possible, by example and experience. Something twinged in her heart, something like regret and admiration combined. But she had no regrets where Sir Talon Quereste was concerned, had she?

The knight laughed, and the lad shouted his glee at having mastered the technique. Others who’d been watching slapped the boy on the back and cast good-natured jokes at Talon.

Her escort finally arrived with her horse, but Larkin continued to watch her knight.

Talon stripped off his jerkin, grabbed a bucket of water from the cistern, and dumped it over his sweaty form. Water droplets dallied like ladies’ fingers on the smooth skin and rippled muscles of his chest and arms. He shook the water from his hair, casting a diamond-bright spray that caused a brief rainbow to shimmer about his body. The water soaked his chausses, and they clung to his thighs like an impassioned woman. Larkin had a brief vision of Talon naked in the arms of some courtly lady.

Her heart clutched, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, the vision was gone. Talon stared at her, his glance sharp with hunger. His nostrils flared, as if scenting prey. He stepped toward her.

She turned to her escort. “I beg pardon for keeping you waiting. Let us leave now.” She was in the saddle, guiding her mount toward the great gate before Talon had taken three steps. She hurried ahead, not wanting her young guard to notice how breathless she was. Where was her courage? She’d nothing to fear, but she’d not been able to face Talon. His tenderness last night had made talking about those horrible days easier, but he’d also left her vulnerable. His trust created an even greater danger. Nothing, save the truth of her marriage to his father remained between them to defend her from his easy charm. She’d spent a restless night wishing for his company and his touch. She could not, must not want that. She was his stepmother. They could share nothing but friendship. Even were she able to have her marriage annulled, more than friendship would be unwise.

He was a king’s herald, and when his work was done, he would leave Hawksedge Keep for another task. She would remain, hopefully vindicated with her marriage annulled, and, if justice prevailed, in possession of her childhood home. ’Twas a good thing she would spend time alone in the wood. Mayhap she would spend the night at the abbey in contemplation of her future. A future that would not include Talon.

• • •

He let her go. He might want her in his bed, but he’d not allow desire to overcome duty or ambition. If he were lucky enough to hold Hawksedge one day, whether from his father or the king, Talon wanted the guard well trained. Before the incident with Aedwin, he’d had every intention of resuming his seduction of Larkin. Now he was less certain. He believed her claim to be Lady Rosham, but that meant he must deny his lust. Could he be satisfied with friendship, or less?

To avoid her now was wise. With every kiss, their physical yearnings grew. Laying with Larkin was no longer a matter of simple lust. Slaking that lust would complicate everything and endanger more than the fragile trust they shared.

The same was true of her search for that marriage box. His hope of gaining his home would burn to ash if she succeeded in finding it. So why let her search? Why put my dreams at risk for a woman?

Because Larkin wasn’t just any woman. She was extraordinary; just think what she’d suffered and survived. If she earned the victory she sought, he wanted to share in it. However, his own plans would either prevent her success or end in his own sorrow, destroying any chance of sharing her joys. They would end as enemies. All the more reason to keep his distance despite his body’s urgings.

Cleve approached with a cloth and a clean jerkin, and they shared a laugh over one of Cleve’s crude jokes while Talon rubbed his hair dry.

“Tell me,” Talon asked as he donned the jerkin, “why did you assign that young man as Lady Larkin’s escort? He’s the greenest of all the Hawksedge guards.”

“Albert begged it of me. He said he wanted to prove his worth to you. Since the lady goes no farther than the pool in the wood to gather flowers for the abbey, I figured they’d be safe enough.”

Talon studied the senior guard through narrowed eyes. “You are aware that she was attacked in the wood?”

“Aye, sir, that I am. But that attack came at dusk. Lady Larkin and Albert should return well before then, even with a stop at the abbey.”

Talon gave a single nod. “We’ll see. I would like to inspect the work of the keep and the town.”

Cleve blinked. “Ye want to inspect the work of the earl’s servants?”

“That is what I said. How soon can you be ready to accompany me?”

“Ye want me to go with ye?”

“Is something wrong with your hearing, Cleve?”

“N ... no, Sir Talon. I’ll be right happy to help ye. It’s just that the earl never did any such thing.”

“Who did?”

“Well, I guess I did. I’d report about the goings on here when the earl arrived to visit. But it weren’t like I inspected nothing. Folk in the keep and Hawking Sedge trust each other. They’d be mighty offended were I to start poking around in their business and belongings.”

Talon ground his teeth. The earl was responsible for setting standards and expectations. Cleve was not at fault. “I stand in the earl’s stead until he returns. I will not have him or any other claim I neglected the duties he should carry out. Have my horse saddled and one for yourself; we’ll leave as soon as I give orders for the rest of the training and tonight’s watch. You may tell me all you know about the servants and villagers as we ride.”