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"Where is she!"

Lionheart's roar shot up through the rafters and vibrated through the hall. He had awakened that morning to find Vanora gone. At first he had thought naught about it, but as the day progressed without a sign of Vanora, he knew with certainty what she had done.

Hoping he was wrong, he had dispatched a man to the village and instigated a thorough search of the keep and outbuildings. His anger mounted when he realized that only one explanation was possible. Vanora had deliberately disobeyed him and gone to Daffid. He felt it in his bones, knew it with every breath he took. Damn her to perdition!

"Who was the sentry last night?"

" 'Twas I, Lord Lionheart," Sir Eldin said, stepping forward.

"Did my wife leave the hall while you were on duty?"

"Aye, my lord. She said she could not sleep and was going to the chapel to pray. I saw no reason to stop

her."

Lionheart's gaze searched for and found Father Caddoc. "What do you know of this, priest?" "Naught, my lord. Vanora did not confide in me."

"The secret door behind the altar ..."

"... is still sealed, my lord, just as you ordered."

"Where is Mair?"

"Here, my lord," Mair said, shuffling toward him, head bowed, shoulders slumped.

"Did your mistress confide in you? Do you know where she went?"

Clearly distraught, Mair wiped away a tear and shook her head.

Lionheart dismissed her with a glance, and the woman shrank away, her shoulders quaking. "Who was on duty in the gatehouse last night?"

"That would be me, my lord," Sir Osgood said.

Lionheart speared the man with a piercing look and asked, "Did you raise the portcullis for my wife last

night?"

"Nay, Lord Lionheart. I raised the portcullis but once the entire night, and that was for Sir Morse." Sir Morse pushed through the crowd. "Nay! I did not leave the keep last night."

Rage swept through Lionheart. Of course Sir Morse had not left the keep. 'Twas his wife who'd left under

the guise of Sir Morse.

"I wish to speak in private to Father Caddoc," Lionheart said. "The rest of you are dismissed. Arm

yourselves and be ready to ride within the hour."

Lionheart waited until the hall cleared before addressing the priest.

"Where does Vanora keep her armor?"

"In a small anteroom at the rear of the church. Think you she left Cragdon disguised as Sir

Morse?"

" 'Tis exactly what I think," Lionheart growled. "Come, we will go to the chapel together and see for

ourselves what folly my wife has wrought."

The chest in the anteroom yielded naught but dusty robes. Too angry to speak, Lionheart slammed the lid

down and stormed off. Vanora had gone to Daffid. What in God's holy name did she expect to accomplish?

Her reckless act had only handed Daffid another hostage. Lionheart had no recourse now but to storm the

fortress and pray that the prisoners survived.

Squinting up at the sun, Lionheart realized there was not a moment to lose. If his forces were to make a

surprise night attack, they would have to leave immediately. Foolish, foolish Vanora. Her sacrifice on his

behalf had done naught but endanger her own life.

Lionheart was striding across the inner courtyard when a warning blast from the battlements stopped him

in his tracks.

"Two riders are approaching!" a sentry called out.

Lionheart climbed the outside stairs to the parapet and, shading his eyes against the glare of the sun,

spotted the riders. They were approaching slowly, heads bowed.

"One of them is a woman," someone shouted.

"Raise the portcullis!" Lionheart ordered. Racing down the stairs, he arrived at the inner gate as the new

arrivals passed through.

He recognized Sir Giles but not the lady with him.

Lionheart grasped Deirdre's reins and swung her from the saddle. But for Lionheart's support, her legs

would have crumpled beneath her.

Giles dismounted and swept Deirdre into his arms. "My lady is exhausted," he said. "She has been

through a harrowing experience."

"Take her up to your chamber," Lionheart instructed. There was a great deal he wanted to learn from

Giles, but his wife's health came first. "I will send Mair to attend her and await you in the solar." "Aye, Lionheart. I will not be long."

Lionheart sent for Mair and directed her to Giles's chamber. Then he climbed up to the solar, prowling

restlessly. His relief was palpable when Giles presented himself a short time later.

"How fares your lady?"

"Mair gave her something to soothe her nerves and put her to sleep. Deirdre has a delicate constitution,

and I feared she would fall apart before we reached Cragdon."

"Tell me what happened."

"Peter probably told you most of it. We were attacked upon the road and taken to Draymere. Peter was

released to carry Daffid's message to you."

The question burning on the tip of Lionheart's tongue came tumbling forth. "Where is Vanora? Is she

with Daffid?"

Giles's expression grew wary. "Aye. Did you send her?"

"Nay, I did not. She crept from our bed in the middle of the night and rode forth from Cragdon garbed as

a knight. Sir Osgood raised the portcullis, but I blame him not, for she tricked him."

Giles hesitated a moment, then said, "She was wearing chain mail and a white tabard trimmed in gold." "Aye. I have known that my wife was the White Knight for some time. When I confronted her, she

promised she would never don armor and ride as the knight again. Through some misguided notion, she thought

she could save you and Deirdre without my help."

"She said . . ." Giles's words fell off and his gaze slid away from Lionheart's.

"What is it, Giles? Did Daffid do my wife harm? Did she give you a message to carry to me?" "I was given a message to deliver, but I hesitate to do so. I hate to be the bearer of unwelcome news." "Spare not my feelings, Giles. I would know the truth."

He sent Lionheart a pitying look. "I spoke with Vanora before leaving Draymere."

Lionheart's shoulders tensed. "Go on."

"She said to tell you she does not need rescuing, for her heart belongs to Daffid."

A nerve ticked along Lionheart's jaw. "Is that all?"

"I think so ... except..."

"What is it?"

"She said she was forced into a marriage she did not want and wished to remain with Daffid." It was a lie. It had to be a lie. But deep in his heart Lionheart knew Vanora could not love him. No one had

ever loved him, not his mother, not his father, and not Vanora. He had been a fool to believe her lies. "Leave me. See to your wife's comfort and seek your own rest. I will meet Deirdre tomorrow, when she is

recovered from her ordeal."

"I pray you are not planning to storm Draymere," Giles said. " 'Tis what Daffid wants, you know. He has

gathered a small army within Draymere's walls. They will cut our forces down without mercy." "My course of action is yet unclear."

"Then I will leave, for I can see you wish to be alone."

Giles took his leave and strode toward the door, hesitating as he reached for the latch. "Lionheart, about

Vanora—"

Lionheart shook his head. "Nay, Giles, I do not wish to discuss my wife."

"I understand," Giles said.

Once Giles had left, Lionheart dropped down upon a bench and buried his head in his hands. What have you

done, Vanora? He had thought she'd gone to Daffid to negotiate Giles's and Deirdre's release. But after listening

to Giles, he realized just how wrong he had been. The pain of betrayal made him realize what a dunce he had been

to believe that Vanora cared for him. Thank God he had not declared his growing emotional attachment to her. He

would have felt twice a fool for admitting his feelings to a woman who cared naught for him. He rose and crossed the room to the bed. The warm, womanly scent of her skin and her hair still clung to the

bedding. In his mind he pictured her lying there, sprawled in wanton abandon while he feasted on the creamy

curves of her body. She was a woman to drive a man to distraction, and he had allowed himself to be beguiled by

her feminine wiles. He recognized within himself the inability to withstand the power she held over him, but no

longer, he silently vowed.

Wanting a woman who did not want him was a waste of time and energy. Wife or no, he washed his hands of

her.

What if you are wrong? an inner voice asked. What if Vanora had deliberately lied about her feelings to save

Giles and Deirdre? What if Daffid had forced her to say those hateful things?

Not likely, Lionheart's demon replied.

So what in the hell was he going to do? Should he lead his men into a battle they could not win to rescue a

woman who by her own words neither needed nor wanted rescuing?

Lionheart was still undecided when he sought out Sir Brandon a short time later and told him that, although

the men were to remain on alert, they would stay within the keep this night. He needed time to mull over Vanora's

words.

* * *

In a sparsely furnished chamber that overlooked the courtyard, Vanora slept poorly that night. She had

awakened early and had just pulled on her chausses when a knock sounded on the door. It opened scant seconds

later, admitting a swaggering Daffid carrying a drab garment over his arm.

"Daffid, I am not dressed!" Vanora said, diving for a coverlet to wrap around her bare torso. "I am your betrothed. There is no shame between us."

"I still have a husband," Vanora reminded him.

Daffid gave her a smug smile. "Not for long. Preparations are being made for Lionheart's expected attack

even as we speak."

Vanora's chin angled upward. "He will not come."

"I say he will."

He walked toward her, a stalking beast with a lustful gleam in his eyes. "In the meantime, there is no reason

why we cannot satisfy our desire for one another."

Vanora recoiled. "There is every reason in the world. First, I do not desire you, and second, I am still wed.

You cannot touch me without fear of going straight to hell when you die."

He laughed. "I do not fear hell, and you are not strong enough to keep me from taking what I want." He

forced her backward against the bed with the strength of his stocky body.

Vanora bared her teeth. "Touch me before I am willing and I swear you will regret it the rest of your life. You

know I am not a fragile damsel, and I am more than capable of defending myself. You have seen my strength,

Daffid. You know I have a strong sword arm. Take me against my will and I swear I will sever your manhood

from your body."

The fierceness of her words and the determination behind them brought Daffid up short. "I do not fear you,

Vanora."

Vanora stifled a smile. The indecision in his voice belied his words. "You should fear me. Respect my

position as a married woman and we shall get along for as long as I choose to remain at Draymere." " 'Tis not your decision to make," Daffid responded. "You will remain here until I slay Lionheart. Once he is

dead, we will wed and live out our days at Cragdon. I can wait. The reward will be all the sweeter when you come

to me willingly."

"Lionheart will not come, and Cragdon is impenetrable."

"There is still the secret entrance."

"It has been permanently sealed."

Daffid shrugged. "No matter. If Lionheart plays the coward and does not come, we will surround the keep and

wait until starvation drives him out. Once he leaves Cragdon, he is a dead man."

Vanora turned her back on him, unable to deny his words. The sheer number of men at Daffid's command

would most assuredly prevail if Lionheart left Cragdon and attempted an attack upon Draymere. "Here," Daffid said, tossing the garment he had been carrying onto the bed. "Put this on. Your armor

offends me. I will not have you wearing it at Draymere."

Vanora turned her head and stared at the rough garment. "I prefer my armor."

"A servant's garment was all I could find. 'Twill have to do until you have access to your own clothing. It

will not be long, Vanora, this I vow. Come down to the hall when you are dressed and we will break our fast

together."

"I would attend Mass first."

"There has been no priest at Draymere since my father's death many years ago. My estate is poor

compared to the size and wealth of your lands. There is no village and but a few villeins who dwell within

the keep. The nearest priest is Father Caddoc, and he is at Cragdon, a half-day's journey away." "Nevertheless, I shall go to the chapel to pray before I break my fast," Vanora persisted. Daffid frowned. "Very well, but do not linger overlong."

Vanora found the chapel in sad disrepair, like all of Draymere. Daffid was a careless landholder. She

remembered coming to Draymere with her father when she was a child and playing in the well-tended garden

behind the keep while her father and Daffid's talked. Daffid was rarely home, for he had been fostered during

those years. But after Daffid's father died, the son had allowed the keep to fall into ruin. Vanora knelt before the altar, recalling those days she had wandered Draymere's grounds with a child's

freedom and innocence. She had spent many pleasurable hours exploring the small keep. She smiled,

recalling how she pretended to be a damsel in distress waiting to be rescued by a brave knight who would

risk all for her. Funny, she reflected, but the knight never had Daffid's face.

One day she had discovered a small postern gate overgrown with weeds and had tried to open it, but her

child's strength would not budge it.

Vanora went still. There was a postern gate! She had forgotten about it. That childhood memory had

come unbidden when she had begun to reminisce. Since Draymere had never been under siege, Daffid would

have had no reason to use the gate in recent years, and even less reason to believe she knew about it. The

knowledge would bear exploring, Vanora decided. After offering a prayer of thanks, she left the chapel and

joined Daffid in the hall.

* * *

Lionheart felt the onerous weight of indecision bearing down on him. There was still a raw place in his heart that did not want to believe Vanora had betrayed him with Daffid. Three days had passed since

Giles and Deirdre had returned to Cragdon. His temperament during those days was such that no one dared

to approach him about his plans. He was like a beast with a thorn in its paw.

After the meal that evening, Father Caddoc found the courage to approach Lionheart. "My lord

Lionheart, may we speak in private?"

"I am in no mood for conversation," Lionheart growled. "Can it not wait?"

"Nay, my son, it cannot."

Lionheart hissed out an impatient sigh. "Very well, Father, what is on your mind?"

"I am worried about Vanora, my lord. I do not believe she stayed with Daffid willingly." "You have no proof of that," Lionheart said gruffly. "My wife's message was quite clear. She does not want

rescuing. Why should I risk the lives of my men for a woman who cares naught for me?"

"Something is amiss," Father Caddoc warned. " 'Tis you Vanora loves."

Lionheart gave a snort of disbelief. "She has a damn strange way of showing it."

"I do not blame you for your reluctance to pit your twenty-odd men against a hundred or more." "Think you I would hesitate if I thought Vanora wanted rescuing? I have no proof that Daffid forced her to

deny our marriage, to deny us."

"Let me go to Draymere," Father Caddoc said. "I will learn the truth and bring it back to you." "Nay, I will not allow it. I am responsible for your life and will not let you risk it."

"What risk, my lord? I am a frail old man who but wishes to visit the woman who is like a daughter to me. I

shall go alone, unarmed and in peace. Daffid will not refuse me entrance, nor will he keep me from leaving." "What do you hope to gain?"

"The truth, my lord. Mayhap I will find a way to resolve this intolerable situation."

"That would take a miracle, Father."

The priest raised his eyes heavenward. "Did you not know? God is a miracle worker, my son." Lionheart knew that God worked in mysterious ways but he was positive it would take more than a miracle to

turn him into a man that someone could love.

"What say you, my lord?" the priest prodded. "Will you order your sentries to stop me if I attempt to leave?" "Do as you please, priest. I do not own you. You are free to come and go as you like."

* * *

Lionheart stood on the parapet beside Giles shortly after the hour of Prime the following morning as Father

Caddoc rode forth from Cragdon mounted on a mule.

"Where does the priest go?" Giles asked.

"To Draymere. He has some foolish notion that Vanora is being held against her will." He turned away. "How

is Deirdre? I have had little chance to talk with her. Does she miss England?"

"Deirdre is young enough to miss her family, but I hope to give her a family of her own one day." "Methinks you care a great deal for your little bride," Lionheart teased.

"Deirdre is sweet and biddable, Lionheart, and she claims to love me. How can I not love her in return?" "How indeed?" Lionheart said, turning his head to hide his bitterness, for he knew love did not exist. "I know you have been unwilling to discuss Vanora with anyone, but it does not help to keep your feelings

within yourself. I believe you care for Vanora more than you are willing to admit and her rejection has caused you

pain."

"Vanora's rejection is but another in a long line of rejections I have known over the years," Lionheart said. "Nay, this is different, more hurtful. You love her. Deny it not, Lionheart, for I am a man in love myself and

can see how highly you value your wife."

"Have you no duties, Giles?" Lionheart bit out.

Giles stared at Lionheart a moment, then shrugged and strode away. Lionheart returned his attention to the

priest, who was now but a small dot in the distance.

"Go with God," Lionheart whispered. His words were snatched away and carried off by the wind. * * *

'Twas near dusk when Father Caddoc, bowed with fatigue and shivering from cold, reached Draymere.

He gave his name when challenged by the sentry and waited in silent prayerfulness to be admitted or turned

away.

'Twas Daffid himself who appeared at the portcullis a few minutes later. "What do you here, Father?" "I come in peace, my son. It occurred to me that Draymere has no priest, and that some of your men

might be in need of confessing and receiving absolution."

"If you have come to take Vanora back to Cragdon, you are not welcome here. Furthermore, Vanora has

no wish to return."

"I am an old man, Daffid. You have naught to fear from me. Open the portcullis. I am cold and in need of

rest and sustenance. After I am rested, I will hear confessions. In the morning I will say Mass and take my

leave."

"You are right, Father," Daffid confirmed. "I have naught to fear from you. Very well, you may enter and

shrive those who feel in need of it."

Vanora was in the garden behind the keep and had no idea the priest had arrived. She had waited until

dusk, when shadows and dim light would prevent discovery, to search for the postern gate she remembered

from her childhood. She had managed to sneak out twice to explore but had failed to find the gate. The walls

were overgrown with weeds and ivy, making the search extremely difficult. There was always the

possibility, of course, that her childhood memories had failed her, that imagination had become reality in her

mind.

"Vanora, where are you?"

Vanora started violently as Daffid's voice rolled through the keep like a winter storm. Lifting her skirts,

she hurried inside. He met her at the door.

"What were you doing out there?"

"I enjoy walking in the garden. It soothes my soul."

"There is naught in the garden but weeds and brambles. Hardly a soothing combination. Come with me, I

have a surprise for you."

A frisson of apprehension slid down Vanora's spine. She could well imagine the kind of surprise Daffid

was capable of providing. Girding herself for the worst, Vanora followed him to the hall. Just inside the

door, she stopped short, certain her eyes were deceiving her. But when she saw Father Caddoc smiling at her,

she knew she was not imagining him. He was here, really here.

"Father Caddoc," she cried, rushing forth to greet him.

Though weary in body, the priest's sharp gaze searched her face. "You are well, child?" "Of course she is well," Daffid answered. "Why would I harm my intended bride?"

"You are mistaken, Daffid. Vanora is already wed. I performed the ceremony myself." "I have prior claim," Daffid said. "Her marriage is invalid. Vanora was forced to wed Lionheart." "No papers were signed between you, and Vanora agreed to the marriage to Lionheart." "Father!" Vanora interrupted, fearing that Daffid would harm him if he did not hold his tongue. Hoping

to distract the priest, she sat down beside him and asked, "How long can you stay?"

"He is leaving after morning Mass," Daffid said. "He said he came to hear confessions, but methinks he

lies. Think you I am stupid? Father Caddoc wanted to see for himself that you have not been harmed. 'Tis

obvious Lionheart sent him. Tell the good priest you are well, and that you wish to remain with me, so he

can carry your words back to Lionheart."

"Is that true, child?" Father Caddoc asked. "I want to hear in your own words that you are not being

mistreated or held against your will."

Daffid leaned over and hissed into Vanora's ear, "Tell him you want to be with me, else the priest is a

dead man."

Father Caddoc, who was hard of hearing, pulled Vanora's sleeve and asked, "What did Daffid say?" "Naught that matters, Father. To answer your question, I wish to remain with Daffid. I never wanted to

wed Lionheart."

"I thought you and Lionheart had come to an understanding, that you were content with your marriage." "Finish your meal, Father," Daffid growled. " 'Tis late, and there are many men in need of confessing." Vanora searched frantically for a way to speak privately with the priest.

"Will you hear my confession before you leave, Father?"

"Aye, 'tis why I am here."

"Nay, Vanora, 'tis not necessary," Daffid said. "You have naught to confess. You may return to your

chamber after you have eaten."

Father Caddoc started to protest, but Vanora's eyes flashed a message that the priest understood and

heeded, albeit reluctantly. Vanora finished her meal in silence and excused herself. But instead of returning

to her chamber, she slipped through a rear door into the garden. Scrambling among the ivy and weeds, she ran her hands along the wall, looking for the opening she remembered from her childhood. Shivering in

the bone-chilling cold, she despaired when her hands encountered naught but rough stone and thorns. A

rustling behind her caught her attention, and she spun around.

"Looking for something?"

Daffid!

"I... I was just enjoying the fresh air," Vanora stammered.

"I know what you are up to, Vanora."

"You do?"

"Aye. My sentries have kept an eye on you and reported your comings and goings. Since there is naught

in the garden but thorns and weeds, I realized you had remembered the postern gate and were looking for it." "You made no move to stop me," Vanora charged. Caution fled when Daffid appeared amused instead of

angry. "Surely you must know I have no intention of staying with you."

"I figured that out long ago, but it matters not. I want Lionheart dead, and you shall help me accomplish

his death. As for the gate you are looking for, it no longer exists. I had it removed and the wall repaired after

Father's death."

"Why?"

"It was not needed. There is another way out of the keep. No one but myself knows about it because

Draymere has never been under siege."

"I will find it," Vanora declared.

"You will not. Lionheart will be dead long before you find it."

"He will not come," Vanora retorted.

Daffid glared at her through the encroaching darkness. "I have changed my mind about waiting until

Lionheart is dead to bed you."

Vanora opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her words with a forceful kiss that made her want to

vomit. She bit down hard on his tongue. He cursed and lashed out at her with the back of his hand. Her head

snapped back beneath the force of his blow, and stars whirled in her head. Pushing the pain aside, she spat out the

taste of him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I despise you!"

"It matters not. I will still have you. I wanted to be gentle with you, but it seems you would have it

otherwise."

She turned to run, but he snagged her around the waist and dragged her into the keep.

"Father Caddoc will stop you!" Vanora cried.

"He is hearing confessions in the chapel. Stop struggling. You may be strong, but I am stronger. Once I plant

my child in you, you will change your mind."

"Your plan is doomed," Vanora charged. "I am already carrying Lionheart's child."

Vanora prayed her calculations were correct, that missing her last woman's time meant Lionheart's seed was

growing inside her. She had told no one, for she wanted to be certain before informing Lionheart. She had no idea

how Daffid would react, or if the news would even make a difference in what he intended. The words had come

unbidden from her mouth.

Daffid's response was immediate and violent. He shoved her to the floor and stood over her, rage contorting

his face.

"Bitch! Whore! You disgust me. Your babe will not live to see the light of day. I will kill it ere it gushes forth

from your body."

Vanora tried not to cringe but could not help it. The cruel, sadistic smile stretching his lips frightened her. She

would not have thought Daffid capable of slaying an innocent child.

* * *

Vanora was on hand when Father Caddoc left the following morning.

"Godspeed, Father," Daffid said. "Convey to Lionheart my felicitations and tell him that if he does not leave

Cragdon two days hence, I shall kill Vanora."

The priest blanched. "You cannot mean that, Daffid!"

"Every word," Daffid replied. "Tell Lionheart I will bring Vanora to Cragdon. When he sees us, he and his

men are to ride forth, unarmed and wearing no armor. Only then will I release Vanora into his care and allow him

and his men to leave in peace."

"Nay! Do not believe him," Vanora cried. "Daffid will kill Lionheart. Tell him not to leave Cragdon no matter

what Daffid promises."

Daffid's blow sent Vanora flying. Father Caddoc started to dismount and go to her aid, but Daffid applied the flat of his sword to the mule's rump, sending the priest on his way.

"Father," Daffid called after him. "Be sure to tell Lionheart to do as I say if he wishes the child that Vanora

carries to see the light of day."