If My Heart Could See You

  “I beg o’ thee milady, dinnae ask such o’ me,” he pleaded, crossing himself furiously and glancing back and forth between his lady and his lord.

  Amiria only continued her grim assessment of Devon and once more thrust out her hand in a silent command. ’Twas only with the greatest reluctance when he finally placed his own sword within her reach.

  Turning, she marched her way back to Dristan and he knew from her expression she was not pleased he had just ridiculed her in front of the entire garrison. As if to prove her point that she was more than worthy to guard his back instead of whiling away her hours at stitchery, she lifted her blade. Dristan should not have been surprised to see her determination to swing the weapon towards his head. Only at the last minute did Dristan react as he brought up his own whilst the two swords met with a thunderous clash.

  ’Twas at that precise moment, that God above voiced his displeasure at the two opponents and rain began to pour down from the heavens. Lightening lit the sky and ’twas not long afterwards that the once dry ground began to turn to mud as the two strong willed people continued to hack away at one another.

  Dristan made a motion of his hand, dismissing the garrison to seek shelter. Sheer rage drove Amiria to the brink of exhaustion as she lifted her sword time and time again. She would not yield to him nor concede defeat, but neither would he. He continued to marvel on how well his soon to be bride was handling the blade she held and looked forward to when he would present her with the sword he was having forged for her.

  On and on, they engaged one another in a fight that was more than just the raising of swords. Their footwork remained sure despite the mud that would have made the ground tremendously slippery to a novice swordsman. After a few more jabbing efforts on her part, Dristan could surmise Amiria began to tire and made the decision for her that she would fight no more this day.

  He achieved his objective of maneuvering her during their sword play from the lists to the inner bailey. She was so determined to win their match that he knew she had no inkling as to her whereabouts. A quick glance into the courtyard showed that most had stopped on their way to find cover from the storm to watch the exhibition afore them. Others hid in the shadows of the buildings to watch in fascination their display, whilst buckets of rain fell from the sky.

  Dristan gazed at his lady, who still met his sword stroke for stroke and had to admit that for a woman of such small physique, she had held her own against him better than most young lads her age would have done whether they had been ill recently or not. Impressed with her skill, a smile of pleasure escaped him that this woman would be his wife. He had met his match and with Amiria at his side, he would never be bored.

  Amiria witnessed the gleam in Dristan’s eyes whilst the memory of their time within his chamber flashed unexpectedly across her mind. She watched him advance as his sword swung out as if to proclaim its master would not be defeated. Transfixed on the movement of his blade, she came to realize too late ’twas just another ruse to the unknowing opponent to become distracted whilst the blade flashed afore her with lightning speed. Her hand numb, she watched in dismay when her blade went sailing up into the air.

  He came to her in all his manly glory and crushed her to him in a massive embrace. They stared into one another’s eyes, both breathing heavily. Trying to catch her breath, he did not seem to mind her armor digging into his flesh. Afore she knew his ploy, his head swooped down and claimed her lips in a fierce and hungry kiss. ’Twas almost as if he rewarded her for a job well done, when his mouth became possessive and demanding, she yielded to him.

  Her resolve to remain angry crashed down around her, much like the tempest swirling furiously above their heads. His grip tightened around her waist, and then she knew no more other than the intoxicating headiness she felt as the magic of him left her wonderstruck. Her ability to think clearly became dull, including everything around her, but him. All Amiria could manage to ponder was how he continued to delve into her weakening senses, leaving her mesmerized whilst she was effortlessly lifted and carried into the keep.

  She clung to him never wanting to let go. One moment she was outside with the rain pelting down upon her head and the next the door to his chamber slammed shut with the bolt thrown into place. She knew not how he had divested her of her armor and garments so quickly, but ceased to worry about aught else but the man who caressed her hot skin. Instead, she lovingly wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming him whilst she was pressed down upon the feathery mattress of the bed.

  The storm pressed on around them, but they cared not what was happening to the world outside the chamber. For them, nothing existed but this moment in time as they took the remainder of the afternoon to while away the hours in a diversion known only to lovers. If there was cause for regret, which surely there would be, they would come face to face with that misfortune another day.

  Hugh sulked out of the darken passageway and glared at the door closing upon the woman he wanted for his very own. Cursing, he made his way to the garrison hall and his quarters. Taking parchment and ink, he set to scribbling a message to his cousin, even though his writing was hardly legible. Sprinkling sand on the document to dry the ink, he blew the granules away, folded it, and dripped hot wax upon the edge, placing an unrecognizable seal in its place. None other than Gilbert would identify it belonging to him. A small coin was pressed into the hands of his most reliable servant, ensuring his missive would reach its intended destination.

  His patience at an end, he leaned back in his chair with a grim smile, knowing soon he would have all he desired.

  Twenty-two

  Sabina descended into the Great Hall with the attitude born of a queen. Her head held high, she stood on the last step so that all might view her beauty. She waited in silence with the hope one gallant knight would come to her, offer his arm, and escort her to break her fast. The longer she lingered, the more agitated she became, knowing that none, including Sir Hugh, would extend such a service.

  The hall itself was swarming with men who consumed their food with gusto and those who trained hard and had empty stomachs to fill. ’Twas apparent a majority of Dristan’s original army had departed for places unknown to her. Mayhap with their purses full of coin, they traveled elsewhere now that the battle had been won for England. They had been mere mercenaries and of no worth and, as such, were beneath her. She cared little of what had become of them.

  Her gaze drifted to the high table where Dristan sat upon the raised dais as if he held court. His captain, Riorden, was placed to his right along with several of his closest guardsmen. Amiria sat to his left along with Lynet and Patrick. A lone chair sat empty that she assumed was meant for her. Since food was already laid out afore them, ’twas evident they would not wait for her arrival afore they decided to partake of their meal.

  With narrow eyes and a troubled frown across her brow, Sabina continued her observation of Dristan and Amiria as they ate. Just look at them, she thought furiously. They sit as if they were in truth already wed. She inwardly snarled whilst Dristan offered her sister the choicest meat from the trencher they shared. With a flick of his wrist, a servant rushed to fill the chalice of wine held in his hand. Dristan took a small sip then turned the chalice towards Amiria. A lover’s gesture, Sabina reflected with a scowl. With a small smile, Amiria placed her lips where her lords had just a moment afore been pressed, as she, too, partook of the heady wine. Disgusted with their affectionate display, Sabina could watch no longer and looked upon the hall to see what else might intrigue her.

  Sir Hugh sat with a group of men at one of the lower tables and although she attempted to catch his gaze, he continued his conversation as if he did not see her gesture for him to join her. Feeling slighted, Sabina began to wonder if mayhap she had erred by bestowing this particular knight with the gift of her virginity. ’Twas not as if he had been gentle with its taking or any other time he had bedded her. Still, he seemed to be the best of what this hall of late had to offer, with the exce
ption of Lord Dristan.

  As her gaze continued to sweep the large smoky room, she looked upon one of the tables near the kitchen and espied Amiria’s guardsmen. Now here is something to briefly hold my interest, she thought wryly. One lone knight in particular did not eat his fill of the food placed afore him. Nay! He, too, had eyes for only one individual within the hall. From the stern look upon his face, he was none too pleased whilst he watched Amiria’s movements.

  Sabina began to weave her way across the filthy rushed covered floor, not that she cared the silk slippers she wore would be ruined beyond repair. They were, after all, Amiria’s, so why should she bother to worry about their care. Coming up behind Ian, she felt him flinch when she placed her hands upon his shoulders and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

  “She makes a spectacle of herself, does she not, Sir Ian?” she questioned him snidely whilst she planted the small seed to take root inside his head.

  “You are not to judge her, Lady Sabina,” Ian replied through clenched teeth, apparently guessing at her ploy.

  “She will be with him again tonight in his chamber, Ian. Mark my words ’twill be so!” Sabina gave a short laugh. Moving her hand across his shoulders in a slight caress, she left his side.

  Her work done with Amiria’s captain, she walked with swaying hips through the middle of the hall, knowing that all male eyes watched her every move. Sabina saw how Dristan watched her most intently and smiled towards him regardless of the frown he bestowed upon her. She watched in fascination when he crooked his finger, beckoning her to his side. Now this is most promising, she thought.

  “You asked for me, my lord?” Sabina said quietly, bowing her head ever so slightly.

  Dristan’s perusal swept around his hall and apparently, he did not like what he saw. “Is there perchance something wrong with the victuals served here in my hall, Lady Sabina, which causes you to be late?” he questioned irritably.

  “Nay, my lord.”

  “The company then,” he proposed. “You do not care to break bread in my presence?”

  “Again, I say you nay.”

  “Then take your place at my table and do not be late again or you shall forego eating ’til the next meal is set,” he exclaimed smartly. Dristan beckoned to her once again and she made her way to his side behind the table. He turned in his chair to face her, clearly showing his displeasure. “The keys to the keep, Lady Sabina,” he said, holding out his hand. “’Tis clear you require further instruction on how it should be properly run.”

  “As you will, my lord,” Sabina said quietly. She undid the link from about her hips with fury raging within her. A quick look about the hall gave evidence everyone had witnessed her mortification and disgrace. Any power she had held, however briefly, was gone when Dristan now handed those same set of keys to Amiria.

  “You would do well to listen and learn from your sister,” he ordered, giving her a nod towards the vacant chair.

  Sabina realized she was dismissed since Dristan turned his attention to the conversation going on with his men. As she made her way passed Amiria, her jealousy got the best of her and she leaned down to whisper in her sibling’s ear.

  “Looks to me like ’tis you, dear sister, who has become his whore,” she taunted.

  Sabina took her place and watched in satisfaction whilst all color drained from Amiria’s face. As she began to eat her fill, she saw that where once Amiria had enjoyed her evening, it now appeared Sabina’s work was done at the high table, as well. Even Dristan could no longer coax a smile upon her sister’s face. Ah yes, she pondered snidely to herself. Sometimes ’tis indeed the small things in life that gives one cause to smile and brings so much pleasure. You just have to pause and savor such a moment whilst it lasts.

  Hugh waved to a serving wench, who rapidly came and poured more mead into his empty cup. In return, his hand reached out giving her bottom a hard squeeze. With a squeak, the girl rushed off towards the kitchens and Hugh returned his attention to gaze on the beauty of the woman who sat not far from him. He continued to watch and wait, although he was unsure if what he had been waiting for would come sooner rather than later.

  As if he had willed it, the door to the keep burst open and a messenger rushed to Dristan’s side. Wait for it, Hugh thought, watching in disguised amusement as Dristan listened to the lad’s words.

  Hugh did not have to tarry long for Dristan’s reaction. After reading the missive, Dristan immediately rose, shouting for his men to mount up to ride to one of the villages under his care. Hugh knew ’twould not matter how hard and fast the army rode, for there would not be much left for Dristan to save once he arrived. ’Twas interesting though that he planned on taking Amiria’s guardsmen with him, leaving the girl most vulnerable. Hugh had not thought Dristan would be so careless, but ’twould be to his advantage. Hugh cared only that he was left behind.

  Keeping his eyes upon Amiria, Hugh watched in amusement when Dristan leaned down to have speech with her and she shied away from his touch. Dristan threw up his hands, downed what remained in his chalice, and stomped from the keep, firmly slamming the portal closed behind him.

  Vastly pleased, Hugh took a long draught of his drink and wrung his hands together in anticipation. Perchance this was going to be much easier than he thought.

  Twenty-three

  The mournful melody from the lone bagpipe player vibrated off the rafters of the stable. Garrick leaned up against a hay bale serenading Amiria with a Scottish tune as old as the Highlands itself. He had a look about him that said he would have smiled had he been able to and not miss a note. Amiria took up the song and sang with a purity most could not compare to. Her father would have been proud to hear her sing the song of her ancestors in perfect Gaelic.

  For Amiria, she simply had come to tend Caliana when she noticed her piper on the way to the stables. He had seemed somewhat lost with the majority of the castle knights riding off with Dristan. She motioned for him to join her and, as she took up her brushes and began to coax a shine into her horse’s mane, she listened joyfully when Garrick took up the tunes from days of old. She smiled happily whilst a part of her childhood played for her listening pleasure, for ’twas a humble reminder of when days were simple and she was able to just be a child.

  Memories flashed afore her of when she and Aiden shadowed their father and Killian with their little wooden swords. She had thought when she and her brother had grown that her sire would appoint Killian as their captain, for ’twould have been a logical decision. She had been surprised of his choice in Ian, since he was younger by several years. It had not seemed to bother the older man though and she was thankful to have Killian to watch over her like a relative. There were not many who could be considered so devoted that he would willingly lay down his life for her and her twin.

  Her thoughts for some reason turned to Devon when he had first been brought to the castle by his father. The lad had been terrified to be sent to Berwyck as its newest page. Yet still he knelt with an unknown confidence of a boy of only eight summers as he pledged his fealty to his new laird.

  Caliana nickered and brought Amiria out of her musings as Garrick continued playing much to her delight. She continued brushing her horse ’til the slamming of the stable door made her jump anxiously. She was not thrilled by whom had entered.

  “Cease that infernal caterwauling!” Hugh demanded as the sounds of the pipes abruptly became off tune.

  Amiria nodded her consent and with a brief nod of her head, Garrick took himself and his pipes from the stables in haste.

  “Do you never dress as you should, woman?” Hugh asked, disgusted as his eyes raked her up and down.

  His distaste at her hose and tunic had little impact on her as she continued on with her labor. “’Tis none of your business how I deem to dress myself.”

  “Perchance ’tis time someone makes it his business. Remove yourself from the stall and come hither, wench!” Hugh ordered.

  Amiria arched her brow at his words a
nd cursed to herself that once again she was without her sword. She did not relish the fact that Dristan had left her defenseless, especially from the gleam she noticed in Hugh’s eyes. She knew that look and what he wanted from her, which did not bode well for her person. She could only pray she would be able to reach the knife she had safely tucked into her boot, should the need arise.

  “You forget yourself, sir, as to who I am if you think to order me about. You are not my lord that I must obey you,” Amiria replied with a sneer of loathing. With another brief glance towards Hugh, she looked him up and down much as he had done but a moment afore. She found him lacking and not worth her time. She turned her back on him and resumed her brushing.

  A growl rent the air, and Hugh pressed forward in a rush. He opened the stall door, startling Caliana, who began to prance at this intrusion to her grooming. Ignoring the horse, he made a grab for Amiria as she tried to distance herself from him, only managing to take hold of her long plait of hair. ’Twas enough to get her immediate attention. He ignored her shriek of outrage, as he forcibly pulled on her tresses, yanking her from the stall. Her feeble attempts to keep his hands off her person only amused him, if his chuckle was an indication of his mood. Slamming the stall door, Hugh pressed her up against the solid wood, staring into her mutinous eyes. Her hands were held in a viselike grip.

  “You, my little hellcat, will do well in the future to heed my words when I have speech with you,” Hugh promised. “The alternative will not be pleasant, I assure you.”

  Amiria saw into the black depths of his eyes and only had a moment’s hesitation afore she replied boldly. “As I just said, you forget yourself. I belong to Dristan.”

  He laughed maliciously. “You poor young delusional fool! Do you honestly think you are so different than any of the other whores he has taken to his bed? You are only one of many and surely will not be taken to wife.”