“Lady Elissa, is something wrong?” Alasdair stopped short of putting his hands on her, though he wanted to. So he could banish all visions of Lord Avery Lenore’s touch on her.
It had been innocent—first her hand in his, then her hand on the lad’s forearm, and tucked into his elbow.
Then she’d said, ‘Aye, my lord, whatever you desire.’
He wanted to stab something—then and now.
She’d no idea what she’d said—or how he would’ve given his favorite sword for her to say it to him. Of course, Lady Elissa hadn’t meant anything untoward. Certainly not the forbidden things Alasdair’s mind had jumped to. What she’d said had been as innocent as Lord Avery’s touch on her hand, her touch on his arm.
So why was it bothering him?
Midday meal had been surprisingly pleasant. The lad and Lady Elissa had included him in their discussions. They’d sat in a place of honor on the dais, and Alasdair also had a place, since he was their chaperone.
“Nay.” She paused in the corridor, before they’d made the turn to go into the guest wing of Castle Aldern.
Was it his place to confess his observations? She’d seemed upset and fidgeting during her time with the young lord.
She hadn’t been…normal. It’d worsened from what he’d thought he’d seen before they’d entered the great hall to meet the lad. She hadn’t been the even-tempered Lady Elissa he’d been getting to know for the past few days.
The most relaxed he’d seen her was in the gardens when she’d been working her magic—that’d been something to behold. His admiration of her had shot up considerably. The glowing of her eyes had been fascinating, but he preferred her natural hazel to each magical hue.
Such power in her small frame.
Then she’d been tense all over again at the high table. Perhaps distracted? Oh, she’d smiled when appropriate and even laughed at Alasdair’s teases and jests, as had the young lord and their other tablemates, but instinct told him something wasn’t right with her.
When the king had entered the hall to join them for the meal, she’d thrown a glare at him—or so Alasdair had thought. The lass had schooled her expression so fast he’d discounted it as imagined.
Why would Lady Elissa be cross with King Nathal?
The meeting with Lord Lenore had gone well. And her smile was back in place as she’d met the Duke of Tarvis, Lord Avery’s father.
She’d seemed normal.
He cleared his throat.
“Sir Alasdair?”
Alasdair inclined his head. “Forgive me for overstepping, my lady, but you seem upset about something.”
She flashed a smile, but he didn’t buy it. Especially when she started to rub her arm, then plastered her hands at her sides as soon as she’d realized what she’d been doing. “I’m well. I enjoyed meeting Lord Avery very much. He’s a kind lad…man. Sweet and funny.”
Alasdair nodded, but he didn’t stop studying her face. His gut said her suitor wasn’t really what was on her mind. “If something is bothering you, you may tell me. Secrets are always safe with me.” He patted his chest and winked, trying to make her give him a genuine smile.
Lady Elissa laughed, but it still had an edge he didn’t like. She squeezed his forearm and he had to swallow as a bolt of energy shot into his biceps. If she’d noticed—or felt it too—she didn’t give any clues.
Not for you. She’s not for you.
It’s fine. That’s what I want, anyway.
He needed to keep adding that caveat. If he didn’t, he might…
Oh, hell. Stop.
He’d escorted her to meet a suitor—with three more to come—for Blessed Spirit’s sake.
“Thank you, Sir Alasdair.” She chewed on her bottom lip as if she wanted to say more, but didn’t.
Her mouth was thick…luscious, and the last thing he needed was for Lady Elissa to draw attention to it. He tried not to groan. “Any time.”
Finally she gave him a real smile. Her small hand gripped his arm again. Alasdair felt hot, although the touch had been light.
“Actually…”
“Aye, lass—my lady?” He couldn’t keep the proper honorific on his tongue, and it made him want to kick himself. Even if he hadn’t called her by her given name—he’d never, maybe not even if invited—he couldn’t seem to stop calling her lass. It was too casual. Not proper.
Her breasts rose and fell as if she’d taken a big breath, and he tore his gaze from them.
“I’d like to go riding.” Lady Elissa’s beautiful eyes implored, and Alasdair’s gut tightened.
He didn’t want to tell her no, but he had to. “Unfortunately, that’s not possible.”
“Why?”
“You’re not permitted to leave the castle walls.”
“Even with an escort?”
Alasdair inclined his head. “Nay, my lady. I’m afraid not.”
She opened and closed her fists at her sides. “I need to get out of here.”
Concern constricted his chest. He took a step toward her. “We can go outside, walk in the gardens again. Or tour the bailey. Whatever you’d like.”
“I’d like to go riding.” Lady Elissa cleared her throat and shook her head. “Nay. I need…to go…riding.”
“I’ll request an audience with the king.”
“I can’t wait. I have to go.” Now she wouldn’t look at him.
“My lady, what’s wrong?” Every fiber in his being wanted to reach for her, but Alasdair didn’t.
“I need to go.” She squared her shoulders and stood taller. “I’m sorry. I can’t wait.”
He reared back. Grabbed her wrist, but was careful not to hurt her. He tugged, until she looked at him. “You will obey. You’ll stay here. With me.” Alasdair kept his voice even, but gave her a hard edge, so she’d realize how serious he was.
So she’d stop arguing. She wouldn’t win. Not in this. It was his duty to protect her. He’d do so, no matter what it took.
Hazel eyes flashed, almost glowing with green and gold flecks. Her loose hair surrounded her like an aura. Her delectable mouth was a hard line. Alasdair didn’t miss her fists clenched tightly at the sides of the pretty silver gown, either, as if she was restraining herself from hitting him. Gone was the polite lass who’d met one of her suitors. “You have no power over me.”
Alasdair growled and took another step, intentionally towering over her. He could feel her body heat—and her ire.
She tilted her chin up. Her posture was regal. Angry.
“I have every power over you. I’m supposed to protect you.”
“I need no protecting.”
“The king disagrees.” He shoved away the urge to wince. Mentioning the king was akin to tattling like a lad, and Alasdair needed no justification for following orders. His duties.
“I refuse to be a prisoner here.”
“No one said you’re a prisoner.”
“I won’t be trapped. You’re treating me worse than a captive. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Nay, my lady. I’m following orders.” He made an effort to soften his voice. “I’ll keep you safe.”
Her eyes narrowed, but it didn’t diminish her beauty. “I am safe.”
“Lass—”
“Aren’t I?”
The question was a dare, and he wasn’t permitted to tell her the information she was digging for.
“Aye. I’ll keep you that way.”
“As ordered.”
“Aye.” Alasdair offered a curt nod.
Lady Elissa said nothing, but unnamed emotion darted across her ethereal face. He couldn’t begin to guess what she was feeling, but her stare was still pointed. “You will not command me about.”
“When it comes to my duties, I shall do just that.”
Lady Elissa perched her hands on both hips and glared. “I am not a child.”
The lass before him sure as hell wasn’t a child.
She was a temptress.
Alasdair wanted to taste every defiant line of her mouth. Make her lips soft and pliant under his demand; make her open for him so their tongues would meet, rub, dance. Make her clutch at his shoulders and beg for more.
A chill shot down his spine and his gut clenched.
The desire wasn’t just unwanted.
It wasn’t him.
Alasdair rarely kissed the women he bedded. Had no need for such intimacy.
A rule he didn’t often break.
He swallowed hard and fought the urge to fidget. He was supposed to be angry at her for challenging him; threatening to disobey.
Not fantasizing about how she would taste.
Besides, he’d escorted her to meet the first of four possible men she would marry. Lady Elissa Durroc was more than forbidden.
Her fate had been decided by their king.
Elissa glared. Of course the knight—her keeper—wouldn’t cooperate. “You have no right to address me as such.”
His frown melted into a scowl, and she saw the tremor in his shoulders as he leaned over her. Trying to scare her. Sir Alasdair was controlling himself, but anger rolled off him in waves.
Well, Elissa had news for him. She wasn’t scared. She was angry, too.
Just as much as him, if not more.
Magic pounded down her limbs. Elissa flexed her hands, kept them at her sides. She wasn’t afraid of hitting him, she was more worried she’d drown him. Her powers were boiling beneath the surface of her skin. Rolling over her in waves, gaining speed and heat, tempting her to give into the sensations and the fury. Let the water free. Fling it at him. She couldn’t give in. Didn’t want to hurt him.
How can I get away?
Desperation clawed at her, like the magic.
She needed to go to Castle Durroc.
“I’m going to my room,” she bit out. “There’s no reason for you to escort me. You’re dismissed.”
“Dismissed?” He roared the word.
“Aye.” She nodded, squared her shoulders and cursed the fact she had to look up at him. Elissa concentrated hard. To push her magic away, as well as mentally reach for an expression of disdain.
She wanted to maintain a countenance like she’d seen her cousin do when displeased. Even the fiercest warrior scrambled out of Queen Morghyn’s way when she was upset. Including King Nathal.
“It seems you’ve made my head ache.” Not a lie. Her powers were making her temples pound.
Sir Alasdair narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Nor did he move away. His gaze traveled down her body before settling on her face again.
Heat crept into her cheeks. A burn that had little to do with magic.
He was looking at her as if he’d devour her. She didn’t hate the idea, or the passion in his sapphire eyes. However, Elissa wouldn’t give him the pleasure of breaking their eye contact. No matter how uncomfortable he was making her.
I am not weak.
“You will obey me,” he rumbled. “And I shall take you to your rooms.”
“Why? To ensure I enter? What’d you think I’m going to do? Run away?” That was exactly what she planned. Saying it out loud might not be smart, but he’d probably never consider she’d do such a thing.
He didn’t answer her jibe.
“Alas, I need a word.”
They both jumped.
King Nathal had a smile on his face as he approached. Sir Murdoch Fraser was on his heels. Both men looked at her, then at her knight. The king’s face fell. “Is all well?”
“Aye,” Elissa said, praying the word was even. Her heart leapt and she fought the urge to swallow.
The king was the last person she wanted to see, despite her ire with Sir Alasdair. Her anger at King Nathal trumped what she felt regarding her knight. Betrayal tightened her chest even as she met his pale blue eyes.
Sir Alasdair bowed to the king, but she didn’t miss him clearing his throat. “Aye, all is well, Your Majesty. You need to speak with me?”
The king nodded. “Aye. Murdoch, please escort Lady Elissa wherever she wishes, and meet us in the duke’s solar.”
“Aye, Highness.” The big redheaded man nodded and offered Elissa his arm.
She didn’t want to argue, so she returned his smile and tucked her hand into his elbow, not bothering to look over her shoulder to watch King Nathal and her stubborn knight walk away.
“My lady?” the captain asked.
Elissa tried not to hedge at his side. “I was headed to my room to lie down.”
His brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, nay. Tired from the morning, is all.”
Sir Murdoch gave her an indulgent smile, and seemed to accept her words.
They walked in silence and when they reached her guest suite, Elissa bowed deeply to the captain. “Thank you, Sir Murdoch.”
“My lady...” He shifted in his boots, despite the smile he still wore.
The gesture was unnecessary because her rank was higher than his, but she needed him to hasten his getaway. Making him uncomfortable should do the trick.
She widened the curve of her mouth. “You’re so kind, Captain. Shall I see you later?” Her heart thundered as Elissa set her hand on the doorknob.
His huge shoulders loosened a bit. “Of course, my lady.” After a nod and another awkward pause, Sir Murdoch was gone.
“Thank the Blessed Spirit,” she whispered. She paused, fingers slipping from the handle. Elissa sucked in a breath and scanned the corridor.
No one was in sight—a boon. She darted around the corner.
The repeated click-clack of something hard tapping the stone floor caught her attention and she threw a glance over her shoulder. Two wolves, one much larger than the other, were headed down the corridor away from her. It should be a shock seeing beasts inside the castle, but there were several bonded animals living at Castle Aldern.
Ladies Cera and Aimil, as well as Mistress Ansley, had all been members of the King’s Riders—King Nathal’s royal messengers—before they’d married. They were all magically bonded to a wolf, as was common amongst the Riders.
Duties often included long solo rides, so the beasts were for protection as well as companionship. She was told it wasn’t limited to wolves. Any animal with intelligence and claws would work. Big cats were almost as common as wolves.
Bonding was a serious matter, though. Magic tied the parties together for life.
From the larger wolf’s white coat, she knew him to be Trikser, the duchess’ bondmate. Lady Cera had mentioned a litter of cubs had been birthed by Lady Aimil’s she-wolf, sired by Trikser.
The smaller one must be one of them.
Elissa’s heart kicked up when the smaller beast paused and sniffed the air, then glanced in her direction.
He was too far away to inspect, and she hoped the wolfling stayed far, but his fur was beautiful. Darker than his sire, he really couldn’t be considered white or completely gray. Several shades of steel graced his coat, becoming darker as it lay down his spine. His tail was the darkest part of him, a definite gray hue. She would call him silver in color.
Trikser stopped at the end of the corridor and wuffed. A sound low in his throat, but not menacing. Rather like a question, although he didn’t turn toward Elissa.
The cub looked at her again. His tail swished once. Then he faced his sire and darted to catch up. They quickly disappeared around the corner. Her breathing didn’t return to normal until the wolves were out of sight.
What were they doing in the guest wing?
They probably had free reign of the castle. They were as much residents of Castle Aldern as the people who lived here.
Elissa reminded herself of her task, and snuck into what she knew to be a supply closet. She closed the door silently, blowing out the air she’d fortified herself with and leaning into the solid wood at her back.
A magic orb floated close to the ceiling. It brightened, lighting up the whole area.
She stared up at the circular bulb. It must’ve sensed her entry, as well as the room being shut off from the bright corridor. “Fascinating.”
Elissa had never seen the like—aside from the similar ones at Sir Roduch’s wedding—and sensed the young knighted mage, Lucan’s magical signature all over it. She prayed he didn’t have a connection to the magic he’d left to power the light. If he sensed her in a closet, he’d surely have questions about it.
She shivered and looked around. Shelves lined all the walls, filled with cleaning supplies, bed linens, bathing sheets and bedding materials, baskets with soaps in them, and even a shelf with nothing but decorations.
Elissa swallowed. She’d been hoping for some clothing. Couldn’t go to the main stores of the castle. There’d be too many questions. If she’d needed something, surely a servant would’ve fetched it. She could hear them saying, “My lady, you but only had to ask.” Then they’d shoo her away from an area she had no business being in.
Yet, she couldn’t request breeches and a tunic—there’d be too many queries about that, as well.
Damn the king for confining her. Damn her knight for agreeing…and trapping her inside.
Of course, she could gather why from her eavesdropping excursion…couldn’t she?
No.
What did her parents’ murder have to do with her?
It’d been a long time ago….over twenty turns. The only home she remembered was Castle Rowan.
Had they been killed at Castle Durroc? Somewhere else?
Somehow she’d survived. Or had she not been there?
What else hadn’t Elissa been able to discern?
“A whole hell of a lot.” Her cheeks burned. She’s spoken a curse word.
Her first. Ever.
She rolled her eyes at herself and pushed off the door. Again, Elissa scanned the racks before her. There was a small trunk on the bottom shelf to her far right. It was next to a fluffy folded sleeping fur that wasn’t too different from the one on her bed.
Kneeling, she reached for the handle on the side of the small chest and pulled. It was heavier than expected. Her grip slipped and the trunk slid to the stone floor with a smack and thud that resounded in her ears.
Elissa froze. Her heart took off, stealing her breath as it bounced off her ribcage.
Why hadn’t she thought to bar the door?
“Calm. Down.” She tried to stave off a magical reaction. Her powers danced over her shoulders and down her arms. “No one heard. No one has come running. You’re fine.” Her whisper became more frantic with every word, but she repeated the phrases in her head, too, and it helped. A little.
Cursing herself—she was becoming a regular foul-mouthed lass—she straightened the fallen chest with shaky hands. Elissa failed to control the tremors even as she reached to open it.
The Blessed Spirit had answered her silent plea. Garments sat in two neat piles, covering the whole interior of the trunk and filling it to the brim.
It shouldn’t be difficult to find something to fit me.
Guilt nudged her. She’d never stolen a thing in her life, let alone clothing that was poorer in quality than most of her gowns.
Stop. It’s not stealing. It’s borrowing.
The feeling didn’t dissipate.
Sneaking out only made sense if she couldn’t be easily recognized, right?
She needed to get away from Sir Alasdair especially. Time was of the essence.
Elissa had no idea how long the king would keep him. He wouldn’t likely let her “sleep”—despite being the cause of her aching head. She had no desire to continue their discussion.
“That is, unless—”
Nay.
There was no way the king would change his mind if what Sir Alasdair had said was true. King Nathal wouldn’t let her leave the castle grounds. He was a stubborn man, and when a decision was made, it was just that. Firm. Unchangeable.
Besides, her knight was angry with her. He probably wouldn’t even appeal to King Nathal. Not with how they’d left things.
I have to go on my own.
Guilt gave a second bite when she contemplated Sir Alasdair.
Would he have consequences if she was able to sneak away from him and the castle?
I don’t care.
Liar.
She sighed.
If I’m quick no one will know. That’s it. Quick.
Elissa had to go and return before anyone could find her missing. It would work.
It has to.
She had every right to see her former home. It was hers, after all. Even a part of her dowry. The king had assured her of that.
Elissa received gold for her personal coffers annually from the produce that was still farmed on her land. Had her own money; would receive it in full upon her marriage.
“How will I get out of here?” She’d need her horse, but how could she get the gray mare without questions arising? Especially if she was minus her guard.
Am I foolish to try this?
“Nay.”
Her rights were not a lost cause. She wouldn’t allow them to be.
She’d figure out how to get to Castle Durroc. Elissa wasn’t a prisoner here—as her knight had so aptly put it. She could move around freely—and she would.
“But, first things, first.” She dug into the chest of clothing.