A Knight to Remember Page 10

  Shadows greeted her, for the window’s shutters were closed. Hugh lay on his back on the bed, one broad arm draped over his eyes, the other wrapped around Philippa, who was curled alongside him. The girl obviously hadn’t stayed in the cozy nest Gilly had arranged for her.

  Hugh hadn’t even bothered to undress before falling asleep, or to slide under the blankets. Philippa, though, had managed to snuggle in under the sheets. Aislinn hesitated, not wanting to wake either of them, but his arm shifted, revealing the glint of his eyes. He lifted his hand in greeting.

  “I am sorry,” she whispered. “I will let you rest—”

  “Wait,” he rasped. Gently, he eased his arm out from under Philippa and rose from the bed. With a heavy sigh, she settled again, and he tucked the bedding around her shoulders, his movements careful and tender.

  Hugh reached under the table for his boots. He pushed his feet into them, then raked his hands through his hair. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” he asked softly.

  “I know just the place.” ’Twas a spot she often frequented when she needed somewhere quiet to think.

  Aislinn left the chamber, and Hugh followed, carefully closing the door behind them. She led him down a couple of passageways, then opened a stout wooden door to reveal a short flight of stone steps leading upward. A cool draft blew over her as she climbed the stairs, then opened the iron-banded door at the top. She stepped out onto the battlements.

  The fading afternoon light drenched the castle and surrounding lands in sumptuous shades of amber and gold. Aislinn walked to the edge of the battlement and leaned on one of the squared merlons. She gazed down through the nearest crenel into the bailey below, where servants were herding chickens into their coop and finishing other end-of-day tasks. Beyond the opposite outer wall of the castle, the rectangular lines of fields, different colors for different crops, created a patchwork of muted greens cut through by brown ribbon roads.

  “The view up here is so beautiful,” she murmured, as Hugh halted behind her.

  “Indeed, ’tis.” The appreciative rumble of his voice sent a delicious shiver chasing along her spine. She fingered a strand of windblown hair out of her mouth and glanced back at him to find his gaze on her, not the landscape.

  Mercy, but he was so close. Near enough to touch, to lean against, to kiss. The heat of his body teased her over the space between them. How she ached to melt against him, to repeat their wondrous kiss that had left her breathless, yearning, and starved for his hands upon her naked skin. She wasn’t an innocent maiden anymore; she knew where feverish desire led, and her body craved that passionate consummation.

  Instead of touching him, though, she kept her arms at her sides and fisted her hands into her gown. He’d said he wanted to talk. She would hear what he had to say.

  Moreover, no matter how much she cared for him, he had daughters born in wedlock. A Lady Brigonne waited for him to return home. Hugh was another woman’s husband.

  He cleared his throat, as though uncertain how to begin all he had to say. “I must thank you,” he said after a long moment, “for all you have done for me over the past few days.”

  “I was glad to help.”

  “Your kindness…” His gaze flicked away before returning to her. “I know I did not necessarily deserve it.”

  The ache of old, painful memories weighed upon her. She fought to keep her expression free of anguish, to keep her tone light. “I could not leave you in the woods; ’twould not have been charitable. I am sure you would have done the same if I were the one wounded and left for dead.”

  “True.” A muscle ticked at his jawline. “What happened between us in the past—”

  “Hugh—”

  “I must say it. I have wanted to say it for years.” His tone roughened. “I am sorry for hurting you, Aislinn.”

  She swallowed hard. “I am grateful for your kind words.” Naught she could say now could ever encompass the heartache she’d endured, so instead, she murmured, “In time, I came to understand why you made the choice you did.”

  “At that point in my life, I believed going to London was the only wise option available to me. I had no money, no inheritance, no prospects except my skill with bow and arrow. I wanted to be someone, Aislinn, someone respected and important. That meant making difficult decisions. The most difficult of all was to end my relationship with you.”

  “You did not give me a choice.” Aislinn fought the resentment creeping into her voice. “You did not ask me if I would go with you to London, or if I would…wait for you.”

  “I thought about both of those options. However, I realized I could not ask so much of you. I had naught to promise for our future together, and you, Aislinn, so very beautiful, intelligent, and perfect…” He drew a ragged breath. “You deserved far more than I could give you.”

  A moan burned in her throat.

  “When I discussed going to London with Lord Falderston, he confirmed every one of my doubts about trying to make our love last. He told me that if I cared for you, I would let you go. You would find…someone better suited.”

  “Lord Falderston said such?”

  Hugh’s troubled gaze locked with hers, and he nodded.

  Aislinn’s eyes burned. She’d never imagined that his lordship had influenced Hugh’s decision to leave her, but Lord Falderston was a powerful man and a leader Hugh had admired. ’Twould have been nigh impossible for a young Hugh not to do as his lordship had ordered.

  The wind gusted, blowing hair over her eyes, and she reached up to brush the strands away, grateful for a distraction. Yet, Hugh’s fingers reached the wayward skeins first. Gently, very gently, he pushed the hair back behind her ear. His touch, once as familiar and vital to her as breathing, left her trembling and blinking away tears, and she pulled back, curtailing the contact. His hand dropped away.

  “What happened to you in London?” she asked. “Was it all that you had expected?”

  “In some ways. The long days of training were intense, but they made me a better warrior and a stronger, more disciplined man. I had the honor of meeting important clerics and councilors who helped King Richard rule these lands, and I saw a lot of the great city.” He paused, eyes narrowing as though seeing into the past. “I was also lonely. Always, I felt a piece of me was missing.”

  Was he going to say he’d missed her? Aislinn bit back a twinge of resentment, for he hadn’t sent her a single letter. He’d made no effort at all to contact her.

  “I know what you are thinking,” he said quietly. “You would point out that I did not write to you or visit. I thought it best for both of us, especially you, if I did not. Moreover, I had not been in London that long before I heard rumors of a Third Crusade to the Holy Lands to be led by King Richard. I knew if I joined the king’s cause, I might be killed in eastern lands, never to return.”

  His words made sense, yet still… Aislinn gathered her fortitude around her like an iron cloak. “I saw the scars on your body. I saw—”

  “A great deal more of me,” he said with a wink, “than I have ever seen of you.”

  She laughed, startled by his boldness. He grinned, and her heart ached anew with the memory that laughter and mirth had been so much a part of their relationship.

  “What I meant to say,” she added, “was that I suspected you had been on Crusade, long before you told me. Your scars spoke of great battles, not injuries sustained from weapons training.”

  “True. When King Richard asked for men to join his Crusade to the Holy Land to free Acre from the rule of Saladin, I volunteered. I craved the adventure and knew I could serve my king well with my archery skills.” He smiled. “I fought well for the king, and he knighted me the day that Acre fell. I returned to England with a writ he had given me, honoring my valor in battle and awarding me an estate and a bride. Within two sennights, I was married to a lady I had never met before the crown arranged our marriage, and I was Lord of Hallingstow Castle in Lincolnshire. More than I had ever dreamed of when I w
as but a squire at Drandwick Keep.”

  “Soon, too, you became a father,” Aislinn noted. She tried not to acknowledge a flare of jealousy for the lucky woman who’d become his bride.

  “My wife and I both wanted children,” Hugh said. “She gave birth to three girls. She got with child again, two summers ago, but…” He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, they were heavy with sadness. “There was trouble with the birthing. The midwife did all she could to save my wife and my son, but the cord was wrapped around his neck. Both died.”

  “Oh, Hugh.” Aislinn touched his cheek, the anguish in his gaze as raw as a fresh wound. Having lost Matthew, she knew that kind of torment. Yet, part of her cried out with relief. While there had once been a Lady Brigonne, Hugh was a widower.

  “I have raised my girls alone over the past two years,” he said, his skin warm against her palm. “It has not been easy. I did not want to wed again, though, until I found the right woman.”

  A note in his voice made Aislinn’s breath catch. She started to draw her hand away, but he caught it and curled his fingers around hers to keep her hand in place against his cheek.

  “What about you?” he asked softly. “How long were you married?”

  “Nine years.” She smiled. “I was seventeen when Matthew asked for my hand in marriage.”

  “You were happy, I hope, as his wife.”

  “Happy enough.” Aislinn refused to let her smile slip. “He was twenty-five years older than I and a good man.”

  “Any sons or daughters?”

  “Nay.” Her voice wobbled, but she pressed on. “Matthew wanted children, especially a son and heir. Three times during the years that we were married, I was sure I was with child, but each time…my belly did not swell, and my monthly flux returned. I blamed myself, always felt as though, in this important role of a wife, I had failed him.”

  “Never,” Hugh said roughly, squeezing her fingers.

  “If I had birthed a son, an heir, then the future of his keep would not be so uncertain. As ’tis now, with the tremendous debts…” She took a shaky breath “Well, ’tis not a matter I wish to dwell upon at the moment.”

  “Mayhap not.” Hugh frowned. “’Tis a matter you must think well upon, though. To settle your debts, the king will likely require you to marry again. Moreover, this is a desirable holding; he will want it ruled by a lord he trusts.”

  “I know.” Aislinn shuddered, and her raised arm began to tremble. She withdrew her hand from Hugh’s. He didn’t try to stop her, though she saw regret flicker in his eyes.

  The uncertainty of the days ahead made her stomach gurgle. She smiled weakly and pressed her hands over her belly, and her wrist brushed the small leather bag she’d tied at her waist. Glancing down, she unfastened the leather cord and held the bag out to him. “I am sorry. I kept this longer than I should have.”

  He took the bag and tipped the contents into his palm.

  “The emerald,” he murmured.

  “’Tis a lovely stone. Unusual, too, I expect, in the pink and gold hues at the center.”

  Smiling, he turned the jewel in his fingers. “I believe ’tis very special, indeed.”

  “Where did you get it? In the Holy Land? Larina thought it might have come from far-off lands.”

  Hugh’s gaze flicked up to hers. “Larina is right. I acquired the stone while on Crusade.”

  “How did you come to own it?” Aislinn didn’t mean to pry, but the emerald was captivating, not just in its size, but the way it seemed to glow from within.

  “I paid no coin for the stone,” Hugh said. “’Twas a gift from a Saracen prisoner.”

  “A gift!”

  Hugh nodded and brushed his thumb over the smooth surface of the emerald. “It came into my possession at Acre, not long after the armies of the French king and our King Richard defeated Saladin’s forces.”

  “I see,” Aislinn murmured.

  “The prisoner was a wealthy merchant. He, his wife, and five young children had been captured by Christian forces during the overthrow of the city. They were taken to a camp on the outskirts of Acre. Hundreds of prisoners were herded into a fenced area and guarded day and night. I served as a guard to the prisoners several times. There was a gleam, though, in the man’s gaze that I could not ignore. He managed to make his way to me. Although I tried to ignore him, he caught my gaze and lifted his foot slightly out of his shoe to show me the emerald he’d hidden. ’Twas a mere stone then, without the gold setting or chain. I knew what he was asking: Help his family escape, and in return, he would give me the stone.”

  “A bribe,” Aislinn said.

  “Aye. A bribe I refused. However, the helplessness in his eyes, the fear on his children’s faces, haunted me. Our king, surely, could not expect innocent children to pay for crimes they did not commit and that they were too young to understand.

  “I tried to speak to King Richard about that family,” he added, “but he was away from the camp most days attending to other matters. I did not have the chance. A few nights later, though, I could bear the dilemma no longer. I went to the fenced area and told one of the guards that the man and his family were to be questioned—I had indeed been assigned to interrogate prisoners—and that they were to come with me. I took them to a tent, where they huddled together, weeping, clearly expecting to die.

  “I did not know the man’s language, but he knew some of mine, learned through selling his goods. I drew on the sand floor and showed him the spot where he had the best chance of escaping. Then, picking up a brass candlestick, I urged him to hit me about the head, to pretend he had overpowered me. He understood. Gratitude in his eyes, he tried to hand me the emerald. I refused. ‘Special stone,’ he whispered. He pointed to his wife, then himself, and in broken sentences, he told of an ancient legend, one that claimed the emerald united soul mates. I urged him to silence. I would not take his gem. At last, he picked up the candlestick and swung.

  “I woke to find myself lying on the floor, my head bleeding and two knights standing over me. They told me some prisoners had escaped. I pushed to my feet, prepared to help them search, and felt a weight slip down into my right boot. The Saracen had given me the emerald, a gift imbued with its own kind of honor. I kept it safe—to tell my fellow warriors how I came by it would have served no good purpose—and when I returned to England, I had a jeweler mount it in gold and attach a fine chain.” Hugh looked down at the jewel again. “I gave it to my wife, but she did not like it. She said ’twas too large, too gaudy. She told me to sell it, but I could not bring myself to do that.”

  “I think ’tis an exquisite stone,” Aislinn said. “’Tis even more wonderful now that I know its story.”

  “I hoped you would like it,” Hugh said softly. He took the chain in his fingers and, before she could say a word, slipped it around her neck. The emerald settled against her gown and hung just above her breasts.

  A tingle raced through her as she looked down at the gleaming stone. “Hugh! You cannot—”

  He chuckled. “Of course I can.”

  “’Tis your emerald.”

  “I am giving it to you.” His fingers brushed the jewel, resting dangerously close to her breasts. If his fingers shifted to the right the slightest bit… She shouldn’t crave that sinful touch, but her whole body seemed to be waiting for it.

  “The jewel looks stunning on you,” he said.

  Aislinn stared at him, her pulse racing with shock, joy, pleasure… “But—”

  “Please. Do not refuse it. If need be, you can sell the emerald to pay off your debts. You would be wealthy enough then that you would never have to remarry. Not unless you wanted to.”

  A sob caught in her throat. “Oh, Hugh—”

  “The day I was attacked in the forest, I was on my way to visit you.”

  “Y-you were?”

  “Did you not receive my letter saying I wished to visit?”

  Aislinn smothered a shocked cry. Hugh had intended to see her after all these
years?

  In her dreams years ago, she’d imagined him riding back into Drandwick Keep’s bailey, dropping down on one knee in front of her, and telling her that he’d never stopped loving her. To have that dream almost come true… Aislinn’s legs threatened to give way, and she stepped backward to brace herself against the stone merlon. “I did not receive a letter from you.”

  Hugh cursed under his breath. “You did not receive my missive. I was ambushed and left for dead. Philippa was abducted. It seems that vile plots were contrived to make sure you and I never saw each other again.”

  “Who would commit such wickedness?”

  Fury burned anew in Hugh’s eyes. “I have a very good idea who is responsible.”

  * * *

  Anxiety and confusion flickered over Aislinn’s beautiful face. How Hugh longed to lean in and kiss her—swiftly, fiercely, and thoroughly—until she vowed she was his, this day and forever.

  As his desire for her flamed, so did the urge to protect her. If the man he suspected was willing to commit murder to keep him from her, what else might the bastard be capable of doing?

  Aislinn stared up at him, sudden understanding in her eyes. “You cannot mean—”

  “Lord Riverwell.”

  “Why? What reason would Nolan have to want you dead?”

  Hugh scowled. “I can think of several reasons, actually. Firstly, my late wife, the woman granted to me as my bride by the crown years ago, was a lady Riverwell had been courting. He’d hoped to wed her and, by marriage, lay claim to Hallingstow Castle, but of course, she and the lands became mine. Riverwell did not take the news well. Every time we have met, he has reminded me of what I stole from him.”

  “Even though the decision was not yours, but the crown’s,” Aislinn clarified.

  “Aye. Secondly,” Hugh added, “there was the meeting a few sennights ago at my keep, which is a short distance from his along the River Witham. I’d suggested the meeting to discuss ways to control the thefts taking place along the river. Thieves, you see, will steal livestock and goods from my estates, load the items onto boats, and sail down into Riverwell’s lands, knowing my efforts to track and capture them are hindered by the fact they are on another nobleman’s property. ’Twas obvious to me, from the undue attention Riverwell paid Philippa during his visit, that his interest was more than…friendly. He was so bold as to jest about wanting a young wife in his bed, even one as young as she.”