If My Heart Could See You, Page 8

  “’Twas a mistake that should never have happened,” she began, “you know that as well as I.”

  “A mistake you say? How can you think we are a mistake, Amiria, when I love you so?”

  “Oh, Ian. How many times must we remind ourselves that we can never be?”

  He watched her closely and came to stand afore her ’til she had to tip her head back just to see into his angry hazel eyes. “’Tis him, isna it?”

  “Who?” she inquired softly, although she knew within her heart whose name he would utter next.

  “Let us play no games between us, lass. I have known you far too long for us to begin such,” Ian declared roughly.

  “I know not of what you speak,” she replied, with a stubborn flip of her head.

  “You think I have not noticed, Amiria, where your attention goes these days? You have been under my care and I have guarded you for how many years now, and you think I do not see what is happening in your heart?” Ian yelled. “You have watched Lord Dristan most earnestly these past many fortnights, Amiria...even I can see that!”

  “Lower your voice lest you wish to bring others into this discussion,” she chided coolly.

  “I care not who hears us! ’Tis time all know who you are and that you are mine,” he declared, and reached out to bring her into his embrace.

  Amiria struggled against him and for the first time felt uncomfortable in his presence. He ran his hands all over her and she began to panic. Without thought, she swung back her arm and slapped him as hard as she could across his cheek. The sound cracked sharply, echoing loudly off the stable walls. ’Twas not hard to observe the red impression of the mark her fingers left on his handsome face, nor when his eyes glossed over with a rage she had never afore witnessed. She could not believe she had acted so rashly, and yet she fumed that he would act thusly with her.

  “How dare you touch me so! Do you think me some lowly whore that you could make free with me here in the stables?” she demanded with tears in her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips, waiting for his answer, although in reality she was frightened by what flashed in his eyes. Ian rubbed his bruised cheek and inhaled to calm himself. He gazed at her closely, and Amiria knew that trepidation flashed in her violet eyes. ’Twas an expression she seldom showed to anyone, especially her captain.

  “You are afraid of me. ’Twas naught my intent.” His harsh tone echoed in her ears as she watched him shake his head, most likely baffled by what he had almost succumbed to.

  Amiria knew not how to answer, as his words were really not a question.

  “We have spoken these words afore, Ian,” she voiced quietly, with a hint of sorrow in her words, “and they should not have to be repeated. We can never be anything more than friends.”

  “I am still your captain, and I gave my oath to your sire to guard you.”

  Amiria straightened her head gear to ensure everything appeared as it should to any possible observer. Then, she raised her misty eyes to him.

  “Then guard me, Ian, but do not ask for more.” She stood her ground and watched as the resignation to their situation registered in his hazel eyes. “I cannot in truth give what you would have of me.”

  She knew she had hurt him, but did not know what she could do to change anything. Amiria watched Ian nod to her. Just as he turned to leave the stables, the door was wrenched open. They quickly broke apart as a silhouette clearly appeared in the entrance. They watched in silence as the form came into the light. Amiria held her breath, for what she knew not was to come.

  Riorden scrutinized the pair afore him with a scowl and approached them without words. He looked Ian up and down. “Leave us,” he ordered with a nod of his head towards the doorway. Ian gave a brief bow and left without further comment.

  He came to Aiden’s side then circled the youth several times afore coming to stand once more afore him. He had to give the boy credit, for he stood his ground during the examination and defiantly raised his chin to look him straight in the eye. Silence stretched between them whilst Riorden continued his assessment of the boy whose nerves surely must be strung taut. The only sound to be heard was the occasional neighing of the horses stabled in their stalls.

  Riorden reached out quickly and grabbed Aiden’s chin and the youth struggled for breath in surprise. He led the boy closer into the light of a nearby torch. He turned the boy’s face this way and that, trying to determine only what in truth the lad knew for sure. Still, Riorden continued to study Aiden’s dirty soiled features with his black brows brought together in a terrifying frown of perplexity.

  “You are not what you seem, I think,” Riorden determined sternly, “and bare closer watching.” He at last released him as if he offended him in some way. “Get you to our liege’s chambers. He has asked you join him there.” Riorden stared at the boy, who seemed unable to move his feet. “That does not mean you go at your own whim. Now move, Aiden!”

  Apparently, those orders were all that were needed to get the lad’s feet into motion as Aiden all but ran from the room. Riorden went to the doorway and watched as the young boy disappeared into the evening night in the direction of the keep. Aye . . . watch the boy he would, and closely, ’til he figured out what ’twas about the youth that disturbed him so.

  Amiria made her way into the keep, pushing and shoving her way through the throng of men and serfs alike, who still gathered in the hall. The tables were in the process of being removed ’til needed for the next meal. Some of Dristan’s men grabbed blankets and took themselves off to find places to sleep upon the floor since the garrison hall was near to overflowing with his army. Her family, it seemed, had already retired for the evening and was no longer present in the Great Hall. She saw her men near the hearth and they rose as if to follow her upstairs. With a slight shake of her head, they ceased their movement and returned to their conversation, with the exception of one.

  Killian made his way to her side and halted her progress up the stairs. His kindly eyes looked upon her like a daughter and all Amiria wanted to do was rest her weary head upon the shoulders of a man who was considered part of her family.

  “I dinnae like this, lassie,” he whispered, for her ears alone. “Ye shouldna’ be serving him alone in his chambers.”

  She only shrugged. “’Tis not such an unusual request to ask of one’s squire. Aiden must needs obey the dragon’s bidding.”

  “Aye, Aiden mayhap, if ye were in truth a younger version of yer brother. Ye must put an end to yer deception afore it blows up in yer face, lassie!” Killian hissed.

  Amiria patted his arm, not that it provided the man any comfort. “I know not how,” she whispered softly and watched him take his leave to return to the men.

  Climbing the winding stone steps to the upper floors, Amiria passed numerous torches giving off a slightly smoky haze in the stairwell and corridors. Upon reaching the third floor landing, the passageway veered both to the left and right, leading to the family’s private chambers. Her normal path would have taken her along the stone flooring leading to the left towards her own chamber, but this night was different. She took a brief breath and turned right instead to obey the summons she had been given. Her feet, trudging along the passageway, felt heavier than ever afore from the weight of the lie she continued to take part in.

  It took her what seemed only a moment ’til she came afore the chamber door that once housed her father for as long as she could remember. Without further delay, she knocked on the solid portal then opened the door when she heard the command to enter.

  As the door swung inwards, Amiria felt as if the world as she knew it now traveled in slow motion. Her eyes beheld a sight she had never seen afore and caused her mouth to hang open in a silent O of startled surprise. There afore her, the Devil’s Dragon rose in all his naked splendor from the wooden tub. The water ran from his glorious body, causing it to glisten from the candlelight with a sleekness that left her breathless and reminded her in truth of an all-powerful dragon ready to take flight
. Her heartbeat quickened and she at last remembered to draw breath since it had been taken from her at the sight of such magnificence. Yea, he was indeed most handsome, especially since his face was now completely shaven and she had a full view of his visage. If a man could be described as beautiful, ’twould certainly suit the man standing afore her now.

  Dristan turned in her direction, and surely her expression could only be called stunned. “Hurry and come in, boy. And close the door. You are letting in a draft.” Amiria did as he directed but took her time whilst she tried to collect her thoughts. “Come, Aiden, and help your brother raise the pail to rinse me. He is having trouble lifting it.”

  She turned her gaze back into the room and saw Patrick was indeed trying to haul the bucket, containing the rinse water, to their lord. He raised his eyes and Amiria knew he was not pleased his sister was in her current predicament. Even at only eight summers in age, Patrick knew ’twas not seemly that she was in the presence of a naked man. Their father would have never approved. Although assisting in the bathing of a guest was a regular routine and usually performed or directed by the lady of the castle, this ritual was always forbidden for Amiria to take part in by her sire. ’Til this moment, she thought never to see a man in such a state ’til her wedding night.

  “Aiden! I grow cold,” Dristan bellowed and she could only imagine his thoughts as to what had befallen her to act so sheepish around him. After all, as far as he was concerned, they had the same parts.

  Amiria came farther into the chamber and took hold of the pail in Patrick’s hands. Apparently, her brother had other ideas in mind and a pulling war commenced between them whilst he refused to give up the handle. Amiria gave one final tug, and her sibling at last released his grip with a decisive plea in his eyes, which she ignored whilst water sloshed from the pail. Her gaze averted from the man, who was patiently waiting, she slowly made her way to the side of the tub.

  Standing upon a stool, she raised the bucket and dumped the contents of warm water over her lord. Stepping off the stool, she watched through lowered lashes whilst Dristan shook the water from his hair. He came out of the tub, took a drying cloth that Patrick now handed him, and began to rid himself of the water that dripped from his hard muscular body.

  ’Twas only when Dristan turned, dropping the now wet cloth to the floor, that Amiria’s situation finally penetrated her slow working brain. He was glorious to the eye with a body sculpted as if from stone. Her gaze raked in his body, noticing the broadness of his shoulders and the strength bulging in his arms. Moving her view lower she looked upon the ripples of rigid muscles stretched firmly across his stomach. She could not take her eyes from him, and blushed crimson when she glanced even lower to his manhood.

  Amiria made as if to speak, but found herself unable to do so as her mouth became suddenly dry. After several attempts, she took one last look into her lord’s grey eyes and bolted for the door. Her cheeks, she knew, must be flaming red in embarrassment. Slamming the portal closed as she fled, she began running as fast as her feet would carry her.

  As she dashed down the corridor, she could hear Lord Dristan’s voice roaring Aiden’s name. She halted briefly at her chamber door, but knew no solace would be found there since ’twas the first place he would search. Her mind quickly made up as she sprinted to the end of the hallway, Amiria gave only one brief hesitation afore she fitted her fingers between the rough worn stones and felt the catch to open the hidden doorway. Closing it softly behind her, she slipped into the darkened stairwell leading to the strand below. She did so cautiously, since she brought no torch with her to light her way in her haste to leave the castle. She changed her clothing for one’s she kept hidden in a chest far below afore she ventured out into the ocean air to clear her head.

  The sea spray upon her face did much to lighten Amiria’s mood and she could only wonder what had caused her to become so soft. She had always been made of sterner stuff, or so her father and Aiden had oft said of her, especially when most women would fall into a swoon given what she had had to endure.

  Amiria was sure, however, that no peace would find her this night, as the sound of Dristan’s voice continued ringing in her ears far into the still night whilst she walked the lone beach. Perchance, though, ’twas nothing compared to what her mind would remember if she but chose to close her eyes and ponder the matter. ’Twould take a miracle, she supposed, to erase the recent vision of Dristan from her memory. She did not think God above, in his infinite wisdom, would be so kind as to grant her that kind of a reprieve or favor any time soon . . . mores the pity.

  Twelve

  With the dawning of the new day, Dristan rose, dressed quickly, and made his way down to the Great Hall. There were not many who stirred as yet this early. He went to the kitchen, grabbing but a loaf of bread and some cheese to break his fast. He had much on his mind this morn and did not relish company.

  Making his way to the stables, he went to Thor’s stall and noticed the exceptional job Aiden had performed yester eve. His critical gaze took note of Thor’s shining coat and he assumed the boy had brushed it to its now lustrous sheen. He grabbed Thor’s bridle and trappings and had his horse ready in no time. Leaping into the saddle, Dristan left the security of the castles walls and made for the beach. ’Twas something he had longed to do for many se’nnight’s since he had first seen the lady in the mist gazing out serenely upon the ocean waves. Thor seemed to sense his master’s need for a taste of freedom, and tossing his head he lengthened his stride, putting the castle far behind them. His hooves thundered upon the sandy shore, and clumps of the disturbed sand marked their way across the strand.

  Dristan let the stallion race along the shoreline with no thought of attempting to slow the steed to a slower pace. He became one with his horse whilst the scenery of the countryside flew by his vision in a blur. ’Twas the first time in a while he felt at peace, with no thoughts to his future or the responsibilities of the new castle and lands to now hold securely in the name of his king. With the taste of the salt air on his lips and the wind whipping through his hair, he was content to have only his own thoughts inside his head. At least there, no other would harp at him or try to tempt him into their bed.

  The unwelcomed thoughts of Lady Sabina made him realize how far in truth he had traveled in such a short time and he could only marvel at Thor’s stamina. He should breed the steed to a fitting mare so the line could continue with the blood of newborn colts. With only a slight tug on the reins and a slight pressure of his knee, Thor slowed his pace. Dristan turned his mount into the direction from whence he came and took in the view.

  Sitting there, he fully surveyed his surroundings for the first time. The castle was well in the distance now, but still appeared impressive situated on a high cliff. If it had been anyone other than him and his army, they would have been hard put to penetrate its defenses. He planned to reinforce the walls where he had found weaknesses so no other would ever take by force what now belonged to him.

  Thor stamped his hooves in the sand impatient to be on the run again, but Dristan only gave him a pat on the neck and continued holding the reins loosely in his gloved hands. The sun chose that moment to peek from beneath the clouds and the sand came alive as if ’twere covered in sparkling diamonds as far as the eye could see. The water shimmered whilst the waves crashed into the shore and even the trees of the nearby forest looked as if they, too, were shining a little brighter from the dew drops caressing each leaf.

  Dristan was about to let Thor have his way and let the beast fly his way back to the security of the castle, when a slight movement by the edge of the forest caught his eye. He blinked once and tried to refocus his vision ’til he noticed a person lying wrapped securely in a MacLaren clan’s tartan. He watched in fascination as the person stretched and unfolded and the unmistakable form of a woman became abundantly clear.

  Apparently, the woman had not realized she was no longer alone. She rose from her bed on the sand and began to shake the tiny g
ranules from her clothing and hair. Finally, in frustration, she grabbed both ends of her tartan, which she had used as a cape of sorts, and raised it above her head, shaking out the contents that had found every fold to hide in. ’Twas only as she settled the garment around her head and fastened a broach to keep everything in place that she chose to at last look up, and a startled expression crossed her face.

  Dristan gave a brief smile as he took off his gloves, dismounted, and made his way towards the woman, knowing Thor would remain where he was left. The closer he came, the more pleasantly he was surprised, ’til she pulled the tartan close about her features. Although only allowed the slightest glimpse of her face, this woman appeared as an angel with porcelain skin, a neck as graceful as a swan’s, and high cheekbones. A small pert nose and lips begging to be kissed were now hidden by the plaid she used to conceal her appearance.

  His hands would no doubt be able to span her small waistline; her breasts were not overly large but he knew they, too, would fit well within the palm of his hands and then some. Her hair was the color of flames or the sky just as the sun was about to set as a few loose tendrils blew in the ocean’s breeze.

  She shifted her feet in the sand in indecision, and he noticed no shoes covered her feet, which even appeared perfect to his eyes. Surely there must be some flaw with the girl, Dristan thought to himself but he could find none. First the lady in the mist had consumed his thoughts, and now this woodland nymph had come to confuse him even more. Mayhap he could hope the damsel was not wed or spoken for.

  “A good morn to you, mademoiselle,” Dristan said, with a slight bow. “You are far from the village so early. Mayhap I can offer my assistance and see you back to your dwelling?”

  A negative shake of her head was all Dristan was awarded, and he watched as she took several steps backwards towards the haven of the trees behind her.

  “Come now . . . I mean you no harm, mistress, as I am lord of yon keep,” he declared with a wave of his hand towards the castle. “As a knight of King Henry’s realm, I fear you must humor me as ’twould be most unchivalrous to leave one so lovely unprotected to the elements of both man and beast alike. May I escort you to the village perchance?”