Page 39 of A Dark and Stormy Knight (A Knight’s Tale #3)

G ossip traveled faster than wildfire around these parts, which was no different than a Hollywood movie set. So, in other words, Cara was used to it.

By the time Wallace collected her and informed her they’d be sitting next to the king and queen at supper, she’d already known about it for at least thirty minutes.

With aching confusion, she gazed up at him. Ever since she’d asked Gillian to ask about the ring again, she’d felt slightly sick to her stomach.

If the ring really had been destroyed, maybe she could never go home. It wouldn’t be her fault, and she could stay with Wallace; but again, at the expense of her parents’ happiness?

Knowing that would ruin it for her.

Her lips curved into a slight smile even though she didn’t feel anything approaching happiness at the moment. “Great! That’ll be fun,” was all she said.

Wallace gazed down at her. “Are you well, lass?”

“Just a little tired. Maybe we could catch a nap before we have to get prettied up for tonight.”

He took her hand in his and the warmth of it sent a sizzle right up her arm.

“You already look beautiful.”

His low tone did things to her insides, and she gave him a slight curtsy, clinging to his hand like a lifeline.

He was her lifeline.

Pulling her hand away, she wrapped both her arms around one of his so she could lean her head against his shoulder, both to absorb his warmth, and so he couldn’t see her expression.

She’d miss him so much if she left.

“Shall we walk back?”

“All the way through the village?”

He gave a slight laugh. “I’m afraid there is no other way. I saw my mother and sisters leave. If we hurry, mayhap we can catch them.”

She glanced at the castle wall in front of her, knowing they’d have to round it and walk back through the village.

Her feet already hurt, and it was getting chilly, but now that the king and queen were well-entertained, she doubted she’d be offered a ride back.

“Fine,” she said, and he chuckled at her tone as they walked.

They made their way past groups of chattering people, aristocracy and peasants alike.

Two men wrestled on the ground, entertaining the crowd, while another beat a drum at a fast pace.

Off to their left a man was cooking strips of meat over coals, and Cara realized for the first time she was hungry.

When Wallace saw what had caught her attention, he stopped. “Would you like some?”

She nodded. If she didn’t like it, she had no doubt Wallace would finish it for her.

He paid for the meat, woven on a stick, and as they walked on, she took a bite.

Flavor burst in her mouth. “Mm. Delicious.”

She thought to ask what kind of meat it was, but quickly changed her mind on the assumption that some things were best not known.

She was about to offer Wallace the next bite, when his name was called. “The king wishes to see you!”

They both stopped walking, and he turned back, but as she wiped juice off her lips, chin, and fingers, she told him, “Go ahead. I’ll keep going and you can catch up.”

He looked moody, stubborn, and obviously didn’t want to go. “Aye. We need to talk. To discuss your feelings on the subject of our marriage. I’ll not be a moment.”

Oh, boy. She was actually relieved to have a slight reprieve.

He left, and she considered walking slowly to give him time, but didn’t want to get stopped herself. Besides, if she sped up, she’d be able to catch up with Lady Helena and the girls. Maybe having his family around for the upcoming discussion wasn’t a bad idea. She could use the support as she didn’t even know her own mind at the moment.

Decision made, she walked faster, munching on the meat snack. She kept going until she reached the outskirts of the village.

The road took a sharp turn, and, feeling only a little guilty for not sharing, she finished the meat and threw the stick into some nearby bushes.

She glanced back, didn’t see Wallace, but there was a line of stragglers, headed up to the castle gates, and she hurried on, hoping to overtake Wallace’s family.

Windowless thatch-roofed huts lined the road, and she passed a smithy, door open, anvil on display. Livestock bleated from fenced areas at the sides of some of the huts.

It did hold an appealing charm.

There was greenery between the homes, a couple of hanging signs she couldn’t decipher, and one hut with roots hanging next to the doorway.

There were few villagers about, most of them still enjoying the festival-type atmosphere now that the joust was over.

The place was a lot more deserted than it had been the last time they’d made their way up this road.

The door to her left opened, and she smiled at the huge, lumbering man, who looked like he’d spent many-a-day hauling whatever-he-darn-well-wanted.

She was just about to greet him with a cheery hello, when he reached out, grabbed her arm, and with a mighty yank, pulled her into the cottage.

“What?” she got out, before a hand was placed over her mouth, she was pulled tight against a large male body, and the door shut behind them.

A peasant wouldn’t be wearing chainmail. She struggled, tried to scream, flashbacks from her earlier attack resurfacing even as her eyes rolled, and she searched the darkened interior.

She drew air through her nose, trying to breathe, and could tell the man hadn’t bathed in a long while, but her suddenly starved lungs didn’t care.

Eyes wide, body struggling, heart pounding, she stomped on top of the man’s boot three times, but with her soft shoes, it only hurt her foot.

He didn’t so much as flinch.

A soft chuckle in the darkness had her looking in that direction and, heart hammering, she rolled her eyes to see.

Lord Dinsdale stepped out of the darkness like a movie villain in a bad script.

She wouldn’t be surprised if he rubbed his hands together or twirled his mustache while releasing an evil laugh.

Seriously, the guy needed to go down.

She struggled harder against her captor but the man wouldn’t be budged.

As Lord Dinsdale watched, obvious enjoyment in his oily dark eyes, she finally gave up and went limp against the hulking giant at her back.

“Would you like to breathe?” Lord Dinsdale finally asked.

Glaring daggers at the man, she nodded.

“Here is what I propose. My man here will take his hand off of your mouth and you and I will have a conversation. Agreed?”

Again, she nodded.

“If you attempt to scream, I will have Jasper cover thy mouth again. We can do this all night, or we can finish our conversation quite quickly.”

He glanced around the room, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “What say you?”

Again, she nodded, to show she understood.

With a nod from Lord Dinsdale, Jasper released her, his big hand on her shoulder tightening, as he slowly, slowly moved his hand away, ready to clap it over her mouth if she so much as squeaked.

Sucking in air, she considered it, but decided getting this over with was her prime objective. “Yes?” She asked putting as much contempt in that word as she could.

Fast as a snake strike, Lord Dinsdale slapped her across the face.

She jerked into the man behind her, and then slowly straightened her shoulders, though she’d started to shake.

She considered, she really did, but his expression was so pleased she couldn’t stop that mouth of hers. “You were saying?”

He slapped her again, tearing the inside of her lip against her teeth.

Footlicker, she thought, utilizing a term she’d heard around the castle. She dabbed at the cut with her tongue, tasted blood, and considered spitting it in his face.

She didn’t want to get hit again and settled for pressing her lips together and glaring.

A scoff of laughter from Lord Dinsdale had her briefly rethinking her decision, but ultimately, she wanted this over with.

He watched her, waited for her to speak again, and when she didn’t, he smiled. “Good, very good. We shall have that discussion now.”

She listened for Wallace, or anyone, really, hoping she’d hear footfalls or conversation and would have a chance to scream.

Lord Dinsdale reached into his pocket and as he drew something out, Cara couldn’t help but flinch, her eyes involuntarily closing for a moment, expecting a knife, or ridiculously a gun or something.

It took her a moment to focus on the object Lord Dinsdale dangled in front of her face.

It was her necklace.

Caution deserted her. “You thief!”

He made as if to slap her again, and when she flinched, he laughed.

“So, I am,” Lord Dinsdale responded. “Too bad there is naught you can do about it. Now, how would you like to visit Dinsdale Keep?”

* * *

The king had not called him forward, had expressed surprise at Wallace’s appearance, and he’d excused himself as quickly as possible.

Still, he couldn’t believe how fast Cara had disappeared.

With his height, he could see almost everyone on the road to the castle, and there weren’t enough of them that he would mistake any for Cara.

She literally must have run up the road.

Mayhap she needed to use the facilities, or had some other feminine reason he vowed not to speculate upon.

Feeling more lighthearted than he could ever remember, Wallace hurried up the road, and accepted the congratulations of anyone he passed, the guards at the gate, and the groups of people congregating in the courtyard.

He finally made it to the tent, to find Lady Helena and his sisters. “Where is Cara?” he asked.

Lady Helena shook her head. “We have not seen her.” She was already starting to pack, and he was glad … anxious even, to be on his way. Mayhap they could use the weather as an excuse, and leave early.

Straight to Wolfsbane Castle.

The king promised him extra men, and Wallace gladly accepted his offer.

The sooner he rousted the Dinsdales from his property, the better.

Not that he expected Lord Dinsdale to give much of an argument, else the king might relieve him of more of his property.

Having been in the same position himself less than a year ago, Wallace knew exactly what the other man was feeling, and satisfaction over Dinsdale’s fate settled within him.

Roust him, his family, and his men he would.

And quickly.

Amelia gave his a shy glance. “Mayhap she went inside?”

Without another word Wallace dropped the flap of the tent and headed to the keep.

Once inside, he looked in the hall, but only servants were setting up tables and getting ready for supper.

Cara was nowhere to be seen.

He asked a couple of servants if they’d seen Cara, but no one had.

He sent one of the servants upstairs to let Cara know he was waiting.

About ten minutes later the lass came back down and, with the timid shake of her head said, “I’m sorry, my lord.”

Without another word he went back outside, thinking mayhap he’d missed her somehow, and soon opened the flap to his family’s tent once more. After a quick scan, he said, “I cannot find Cara.”

His mother looked up from the note she was reading. Her face was pale, and her mouth gaped but no words came out.

“What is it?” His voice was harsher than he intended.

She shook her head and quickly handed the note over.

Wallace straightened outside and read it.

Dear Lady Helena. As per usual, your family has harmed mine.

Do you remember the night that you almost wed me rather than Wolfsbane?

Both our futures changed that night. Do you believe in fate, my dear? I used to, but I cannot anymore. I believe we are in control of our own fate, and that it can be captured, like a child catching a moth. If you let it go in another location, will it not thrive there as well?

I believe it will. Let us put my theory to the test, shall we?

Do you remember where we almost wed? Did you know you left me, bruised, broken, scarred?

We’re not young anymore, and I cannot hurt you in the same manner you once did me, but perhaps I can harm thy son.

And, I will.

The Lady Cara will marry my son the moment we arrive at the chapel.

In one fell swoop, I will have denied you a daughter and a son by marriage, though I cannot believe you would have allowed Rupert to marry Amelia.

Ah, if only.

You might think I have lost everything this day, and that a mere slip of a girl does not matter. But I assure you, if I can inflict the pain upon your son, I myself have felt over the years, I will feel well repaid for this day’s deed.

Au revoir, my dear. May you have joy in your properties, your titles, and your future. Though if it is aught like mine, you and yours may now wonder for the rest of it, what might have been.

Lord Paul Dinsdale.

Wallace’s heart turned to stone in his chest.

Dinsdale had taken Cara?

Before he even knew he’d meant to do it, he was rushing back to the keep, and up the stairs.

He opened several doors before he found a servant. “Lord Dinsdale’s room,” was all he said.

The servant, an older, competent-looking woman, stopped making the bed and immediately came forward. “My lord, if you will follow me.”

She took him to the left and down two more doors, until she opened one on her right.

She stood aside, holding the door open with her back, and said, “Lord Dinsdale packed his things before the joust. He is gone.”

Wallace glanced around the room, already neat and tidy. Without another word, he turned and left.

He was back at his mother’s tent within five minutes.

“Dinsdale’s gone. Where does he intend to go?”

“To Durham, the kirk at the edge of the village.” Face flushing, Lady Helena glanced at her daughters.

“’Tis where I eloped with Dinsdale, where your father caught up to us, and I married him instead.”

Amelia glared. “And you are strict with me when your own behavior was not above reproach?”

Lady Helena straightened, the fire coming back into her eyes. “If anyone knows the danger of relaxed behavior, it would be me. Who better to teach you the perils, than one such as I, who once almost lost everything.”

Amelia glared at her mother.

Dori looked scared.

“Enough!” Wallace said, “I’m going after Cara, you should travel with Lord Marshall and his men. I will come for you all when I have retrieved her.”

“Nay, I will go with you,” Lady Helena pressed her lips together. “If you go alone he may kill you and none the wiser. ’Tis probably what he wants. I … I might be able to talk him from his terrible deed.”

“I’ll go as well,” said Amelia and Dori looked between each family member. “Me too?”

“Nay!” Both Wallace and his mother yelled the word at his sisters. Amelia sank onto her heels with a huff, and Dori still looked confused.

“I’ll go and speak to Lord Marshall about the girls, but I am going with you,” Lady Helena said, her gaze and tone steely as she quickly shoved clothing into a bag. “As I said, I may be the only one Paul will listen to at this point. If you think ’tis you he is trying to draw away, you are wrong.”

Wallace thought to argue, but had his men to deal with. Without another word he turned and left.

* * *

“Are we there yet?”

Cara had been shoved into a carriage, driven into a copse of trees about fifteen minutes away, and settled on a horse in front of Gargantuan.

Her life was a circus. Or, to quote Forrest Gump, a box of chocolates.

Only her chocolates were little balls of horse manure sprinkled with bugs.

“Are we there yet?” she asked, for about the fiftieth time.

The man at her back continued to ignore her like a big dumb animal.

Lord Dinsdale had moved to the front of the line about a few hours ago.

No doubt to get away from her.

When the path widened, Rupert came up to ride beside her and the smelly hulk at her back.

“How fair thee?”

Cara tried to decide how to play it. Could she charm him into letting her go?

At this point, having traveled on three separate occasions, and realizing the futility of trying to go off on her own, she decided it didn’t matter.

Besides, his father would never relent.

“I’m cold. Your nose looks broken, that must hurt.”

Looking a bit self-conscious, Rupert’s shrugged, then rubbed his torso. “My chest hurts as well.”

She pushed back the sympathy his swollen visage inspired. “Do you really think you’re going to get away with this? You guys can’t just kidnap people. Are you hoping for a ransom? You’re betrothed to Lady Amelia. I’m her future sister-in-law. How is she going to like that? None of this is very honorable,” she said, hoping to prick his pride. “Especially after Wallace let you live.”

Something shifted in the other man’s face.

“Oh. You like her, don’t you? You want to marry her? She’s not going to like you anymore after this, is she?”

His jaw hardened, but she didn’t get any more of a reaction out of him.

“You have no idea the things I could say to her that would make her hate you.”

“I’ve done naught to incur your wrath,” he said in a surprisingly rough undertone.

She was definitely getting to him.

“Oh, really? I’m just supposed to be understanding about the fact that you and your father kidnapped me?”

“I had naught to do with this,” he shot a wrathful look toward the head of the line.

“You don’t take much personal responsibility, do you?”

His jaw tightened.

“So, help me get away. Take me back to Wallace, and you can go back to Amelia, and your dad can just …” she looked up at the overcast sky as if seeking inspiration of some kind … and remembered one of her father’s favorite sayings, “eat rocks and die,” she finally finished.

Rupert let out a startled laugh.

She smiled at him, hoping to turn the tide of his loyalty. “Amelia seems truly smitten with you. I don’t think Wallace or Lady Helena want the match, but Amelia definitely does. If you help me, I could smooth your way with the others.”

“Move on,” the rugby player at her back said. “She’ll twist you until you dishonor your father.”

Rupert nudged his horse, and did move on.

She elbowed the man at her back and his mail chinked. “Oh, sure, you have nothing to say the entire day and then you run off someone who’s actually willing to talk to me.”

All that got her was a grunt.

She had to content herself with watching the scenery, which looked dull due to the clouds, and wait for rescue.

Because she would be rescued, wouldn’t she? Wallace wouldn’t want to lose her. Would he?

She thought of the way he’d held her hand last night. How he’d sought her out after the joust. The way he only smiled around her.

The doubt she’d seen in his expression earlier when she agreed to marry him, but he’d seen her reservations.

She leaned to the side and glanced back, and got a few grins from the men taking up the rear.

Wallace was not in the distance coming up the road to her rescue, but she did see someone she recognized. “Sir Gladwin?”

His head jerked up.

“Sir Gladwin, up here!”

As she craned to see around the beefcake at her back, so happy to see one of Wallace’s men, relief sped her heartbeat.

He started toward her, but his expression was grim.

Her first thought was that she’d given him away, that she shouldn’t have called to him, but as he came up beside her, she had the awful thought that he wasn’t here to spy for Wallace.

She hadn’t given him away.

When he reached her side, she was almost sure. “You’re with the Dinsdales?”

“I am.”

Wallace would be devastated. “But why? You’re steward, you knew Wallace’s father, Wallace trusts you.”

That got a laugh from the man at her back.

Dawning realization hit. “But he shouldn’t have trusted you, should he?”

Sir Gladwin let out a heavy sigh, and a slight shrug. “I had to watch out for myself. The Wolfsbanes were ruined, and I saw no reason to partake in their defeat.”

Oh. Oh, now she saw it. “You tried to steal my necklace at the manor. You stole it from the tent.”

He nodded his head, seeming almost proud, and for that she suddenly, desperately wanted to slap him down.

She laughed, a humorless sound. “You thought Wallace would lose again, didn’t you?” She had no sympathy for him. “You bet on the wrong horse.”

Sir Goodwin’s jaw tightened. “I took him a meal last night, but he refused it.”

“He ate in the kitchen,” she remembered.

Sir Goodwin nodded.

“You meant to poison him like his father had been poisoned?”

“Nay, just make him ill and give Rupert the chance to win.”

She felt sick for Wallace. “But why? Wallace really seems to love you.”

“Wolfsbane’s losses forced me to share in the stewardship of a manor house,” his voice was sharp. “I was promised stewardship of Wolfsbane Castle once more.” His tone said he’d made the only choice open to him.

She didn’t ask if he’d murdered the other steward. She figured she knew. “So you were getting your old job back. So now what?”

He shrugged, gave her a sardonic salute, and let his horse fall back once more. “Now, my lady, I’ll serve the Dinsdales, as will you.”

“We’ll see about that!”

As he let them go ahead, she looked beyond him, and still couldn’t see very far for the hills and trees.

She had to content herself with the belief that Wallace was on his way, and they’d soon be together again.

But, like everyone else, she’d doubted, and he’d seen it. Was there no one around him he could trust? Including her?

What if he decided she wasn’t a good bet? That she probably wouldn’t marry him anyway, so he cut his losses?

She wouldn’t blame him.

She leaned back against the behemoth and tried not to cry. No way did she want this crowd to see her break.

Being a damsel in distress, didn’t actually suit her.

She’d prefer to rescue herself, and so it was somewhat irritating that she couldn’t. And if she was irritated, why shouldn’t those around her be as well?

She crossed her arms. “Are we there yet?”

There was a long sigh at her back, but it only made her smile.

“No, really, are we there yet?”