Kissing the Bride (Medieval 4)

Reynard looked at the soldier and shook his head. He really was fat—a great round belly and only thin legs to hold it up. Dear God, how were they to get this creature up onto one of the horses?

“Will you hurry?” the lardy soldier said in a hissing wail. “I am about to fall down. And Raf can hardly breathe under this chain mail.”

Reynard was down off his horse and at her side. It was she. It was Rhona, disguised under a wash of mud and the ancient helmet. Her chain mail tunic was enormous, big enough for two, and if what she had said was correct, there were two under it. No wonder she could hardly walk!

“Be careful,” she whispered, her eyes eating him up. “One of my father’s spies might be watching. The men are not all loyal to my brother and me, but there are more than we ever thought. We have sent my father to sleep with a sleeping potion, but it will not be forever. I thought Alfric would come with me, but now he wants to stay and take my father’s place. He wants to hold him prisoner in his own castle. Dear God, my gentle brother Alfric to play the hero! He does it for me, so that I can get away to safety. He says it is for all the times I have saved him. Oh, Reynard…”

Tears streaked the mud on her cheeks. Reynard ached to hold her, but with all those watching eyes he knew it would not be wise. So instead he allowed himself a brief, searching look before he turned to his men.

“Come on, help me get this soldier up onto a horse!” he shouted. “And then let’s go home.”

They rode into the woods before he adjudged it safe at last to stop. Rhona was lifted down and her chain mail removed. Raf, who had been tied to her chest, was released, and he lay panting on the ground.

“I could hardly breathe, and the chain mail was so heavy,” he complained. Then his lip trembled. “Where are Lord Henry and Mama?”

Rhona stroked his hair. “You’ll see them soon. You were very brave and very quiet. They will be proud of you, Raf.”

Reynard was watching her, and when she looked up, he saw that her eyes were filled with tears.

“I couldn’t let it happen,” she said, her lips trembling, too. “I thought I would rather us both die trying to escape than suffer what my father and Jean-Paul had planned.”

“Rhona, you are a brave and wonderful woman. But I always knew it was so.”

Her face crumpled. “I thought I would never see you again!”

He took her into his arms, holding her fast, feeling her body so soft and trusting against his. She was his, he realized in gratitude. He had been given another chance to take her home to Gunlinghorn, and this time he would never let her go.

Back at Hilldown Keep, Baldessare was stirring. First one eye opened, then the other. He blinked, sleepily, then with a growing alertness.

As he awoke, the rage awoke with him. Until it consumed him. Alfric. He would kill Alfric first, and then Rhona. A father deserved the loyalty of his children—he was a king in his castle, after all. Disloyalty was treason, and treason was punishable by death.

Chapter 24

“My lady, my lady!”

The voices grew louder, approaching up the stairs toward the solar. Shouting now, with an hysterical edge. Jenova opened her eyes. Somehow she had fallen asleep, here on the seat, enclosed in Henry’s arms. Henry, who was already on his feet, and running for the door.

It was flung open before he reached it.

Reynard, the night damp clinging to his clothing and sprinkling his hair, his black eyes gleaming like stars. And in his arms, a small, pale boy with reddened eyes and a wobbling mouth.

“Raf!”

Jenova clutched him to her, beyond thought, beyond tears. Her body shuddered, and she carried him with her back to the window seat and sank down, still holding him. Behind her she heard Henry asking questions, but she didn’t care what the answers were, not yet. It was enough that she had her son back.

Safe in her arms.

“Lady Jenova?”

This voice was not one that should have been in her solar. Perhaps it was the fact of it being out of place that pierced her abstraction. She looked up and blinked. Lady Rhona? Her face filthy, her clothing…Jenova’s eyes narrowed.

“Lady Jenova,” Rhona repeated, tilting her chin in her usual proud manner. But there was something new in her eyes, a hint of pleading. “I have brought your son home to you, and at great cost to myself and my brother. I am placing myself in your hands and asking that you allow me to stay within the safety of Gunlinghorn’s walls. If my father finds me, he will kill me for what I have done. God have mercy on my poor brother.”

She swallowed, and Jenova could see that she had been crying. Slowly, her gaze roved over the girl, taking in the bagging breeches and the enormous chain mail tunic. Her fair hair curled and straggled about her dirty face.

“Mama,” Raf spoke in a husky voice, pushing slightly away from the comfort of her arms, but not too far. “Mama, Rhona saved me. She found me in the room they had locked me in, and she took me to her brother, and they made a plan to save me. They were frightened, because her father isn’t very nice, but they did it anyway ’cause she said it was the right thing to do. Please let her stay.”

Rhona managed a smile, her gaze meeting