When I finally pushed myself away, my breath came in heaving gasps. The wound in my shoulder burned and blood trickled down my back.
As I stood, I staggered from the pain radiating from every inch of my body, but I searched frantically for Olivia. She lay a dozen paces away with Bennet by her side. He pressed a ripped piece of his tunic against a gash in her head.
I stumbled over and dropped to my knees. Before I could brush him aside, someone had grabbed ahold of my chains and yanked me back to my feet. I started to swing again, enraged that anyone would try to take me away from Olivia.
But at the short dark-skinned Moor, I stopped mid-motion. He started to duck, and I remembered the first sword fight I’d encountered with him in Olivia’s chambers at Ludlow the day I captured her. Cecil had fought as well as a young soldier with a surprising dexterity and agility. In my weakened condition, if he wanted to hurt me, he likely already would have.
Instead, he held out a ring of keys and nodded toward my shackles. His eyes held no warmth, but I knew why he was offering to free me. He wanted me to take Olivia away from here, away from her father, and away from the danger.
I held his gaze and offered my shackles.
Blood oozed from a cut in his forehead, and he’d sustained a wound to his arm. But he stuck the key into the lock and twisted regardless of the repercussions both now and in the future. He pried loose the iron bands around my wrists and tossed them to the ground, followed by the keys.
Then for several heartbeats he studied Olivia’s face as though memorizing her features. “She’ll be happy with you.”
Without a goodbye, he spun and limped back toward the melee. From what I could surmise, our men were overpowering the earl’s who had begun to retreat toward the castle, taking the battle away from us.
Even so, I wasted no further time. I bent, pushed Bennet aside, and scooped Olivia up into my arms. I began to stalk toward my mount. Although my body protested the movement and weight, I pushed aside my discomfort. I needed to get Olivia away from Wigmore and any chance that her father might send someone after us.
“Let’s go,” I said to Bennet.
He’d regained his bearing and now stood watching me without moving. He lifted his visor and his eyes reflected surprise.
“Help me get on the horse,” I commanded tersely.
Still he didn’t budge.
“Now.”
“You’re in love with the girl.”
“She’s not a girl. She’s the earl’s daughter.”
Bennet had the audacity to grin.
I would have ridden away with her by myself without Bennet’s help if I’d had the strength to lift her into the saddle. But I didn’t. I could feel myself weakening. It wouldn’t be long before I’d be unconscious too.
“Please, Bennet. Help me.” My voice was taut with pain and weakness, so much so Bennet lunged forward.
He reached to take Olivia from me, but I held fast to her. “Help me get into the saddle.”
“I’ll hold her,” he offered, his brows furrowing in his suavely handsome face.
I bumped him away with my elbow. “I’ve got her.”
His eyes, so much like mine, rounded. “Very well.”
“Just break the arrow shaft in my shoulder and then assist me up.”
Within seconds, I was in the saddle, with Olivia cradled against my chest. The arrow head still burned in my muscle where it was lodged, but with the shaft broken I wouldn’t risk it slowing me down.
I turned my eyes away from Wigmore in the direction of a place I’d abandoned long ago, a place with too many painful memories, a place to which I hadn’t planned to return.
“Where to?” Bennet asked from his mount next to me.
I urged my horse forward. “Home.”
Chapter
25
The softness of a feather mattress embraced me, and cool, clean sheets covered me. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know I was in bed. Immediately I sensed I wasn’t in my own bed inside Wigmore Castle or even at Ludlow.
Where was I? Had someone returned me to Lord Pitt’s?
I sat up and surveyed my surroundings. I was in a large four-poster bed with thick embroidered bed curtains of the richest royal blue. The chamber was enormous with a stone fireplace covering one wall, several long windows along another, and a polished mahogany table with chairs near the hearth.
One of the chairs had been pulled alongside the bed but was empty. A leather-bound book with gilded corners lay on the floor, not upon rushes, but upon a thick patterned rug of the same deep blue as the tapestries.
I slid to the edge of the bed, noting the exquisite nightdress I was wearing with tiny embroidered roses at the scalloped neckline. My hair hung loose in silky waves, as if someone had recently brushed it. I lifted a hand to my nose and caught the fresh scent of lavender and realized I’d been bathed as well.
With a start, I stood, but immediately sat back down as a wave of dizziness overtook me. My head throbbed, and I gently touched the aching spot at my temple. It was still slightly swollen and the gash was tender. But it seemed to be healing.
From outside the long windows, a sweet melody of birdsong entered the room with a cool breeze that belonged to the morning. How long had I been asleep? What had happened to me?
The battle between Lord Pitt and my father came rushing back. I remembered fighting Eldridge away from Aldric, but somehow he’d managed to hit me. After that I knew nothing. What had become of Aldric? Had he escaped?
With a new sense of urgency, I rose to my feet again, this time going slower. Muted voices in the hallway outside the room came through an open crack in the door. Carefully, I made my way across the room until I stood by the door and could hear more clearly.
“Collin has already left,” came Bennet’s voice. “The Lady Juliana is expecting their first child, and he wanted to make certain he’s home for the birth of the babe.”
“Then I’ll send him a gift with my gratitude.” It was Aldric. I released a low breath of relief that he was here. Perhaps he’d been the one sitting by my bedside. He’d obviously stepped away for only a moment, not anticipating that I’d awaken.
“Collin has no wish for a gift,” Bennet said. “He’s a wealthy man in his own right and has no need of repayment. Such a gesture would only offend him.”
Aldric sighed. “Very well.”
“He was only glad he could be of service to you and the king.”
“Then you will at least allow me to repay you for all your help.”
It was Bennet’s turn to release a breath of frustration. “You were there for me during my greatest moment of need. And I was there for yours. We help each other, Aldric. That’s what family does.”
“You’re sure you won’t reconsider my offer to take Maidstone as your own? You’re more suited to it than I am.”
I straightened at Aldric’s offer. Were we at Maidstone? Their home? I glanced back over the room. It was spacious enough to be the master’s chambers.
“You know I love it,” Bennet said gently. “But I have Sabine’s home now. I have no need for another castle.”
The two were silent for a moment, and I considered making my presence known and ceasing my eavesdropping. But Bennet’s next words stopped me. “You’re the baron, Aldric. It’s in your blood. Not mine.”
Baron?
Was Aldric a baron? All this time, he’d led me to believe he was a poor landless knight when he’d been a baron?
Frustration flared to life, and I swung open the door.
The two brothers started at the sight of me. I had sights only for Aldric. For a moment, I forgot about my questions and frustration. He was simply too stunning for me to think of anything else. With the half-moon bruise under one eye and the layer of stubble covering his chin and jaw, he was even more ruggedly handsome than I remembered. His dark hair was slicked back and freshly groomed, and he wore a clean white tunic edged with a golden braid, fine hose that defined the muscles in his legs, and tall leather boots.
He was attired casually but in a refined manner that displayed his wealth. And his status as a baron.