Chapter 8

Darian stood still for a brief moment, trying to make sense of her words. Adulterous? What did she mean by that? He'd been as celibate as a monk since marrying Christiana!
London! He suddenly realized. Someone had told her about the wench that John had given him. A roguish grin spread across his face. The little she-cat was jealous!
He strode to the door and knocked on it, softer this time. "Christiana, let me in," he said in a calm voice.
"No."
"So you've judged me guilty without hearing my side?" There was laughter in his voice.
The door opened to a crack and he could see just part of her stormy face. "Are you trying to tell me that you didn't have a woman in your room in London?"
"No, but…"
Slam! The door shut back in his face, nearly taking his nose with it. This time his voice contained no laughter.
"Christiana, I'm losing my patience! Let me in. Now!" he commanded.
There was no answer from the other side and she made no effort to heed his order.
"Christiana, I have knocked one door down tonight, and, by God, I will not hesitate to do it once more!"
The door was then flung open and Kristy had already turned her back, walking back towards the far ************************************************************ **** She looked out into the darkness and charged, "Say what you've got to say, then get out."
He took a deep breath and wondered why he was even bothering explaining at all. He shouldn't have to explain himself to a woman. He should just throw her over his shoulder and take her to his bed.
But he didn't. For reasons he didn't dare try to understand, he was going to tell her that he had had the chance to be unfaithful but couldn't. He came and stood close to her back without yet touching her. His hands folding behind his hack.
"As I was about to tell you, my lady, there was indeed a woman in my room in London. Prince John had sent her there." He paused. He saw her shoulder stiffen. "But I sent her away, Christiana."
Sent her away? "Before or after?"
With an exasperated breath he turned her around and forced her to look at him. "Nothing happened. She was willing but I was not."
She held her breath, "Why?"
He smiled then and marveled at the opportunity that had opened up to him. If he was ever going to get anywhere with her, he'd better start appealing to what women responded to most…her vanity. He reached up and ran his fingers in her loose hair, caressing her nape. "Because, my beauty, there was only one woman who I wanted. The only once that I could not stop my mind from thinking of, and that was you."
"You thought of me?" she asked breathlessly.
"I thought of nothing else," he returned, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. He was almost there! He quickly judged the quickest route to the bed. It wasn't made up, but he wasn't picky, just desperate.
"Oh! Darian...." She threw her arms around his neck and he held her tightly against him.
"Kiss me, my love. I want to feel your mouth on mine..." he whispered against her ear, nibbling on it's softness. If he could just kiss her, she'd be his. No doubts there. She was practically melting in his arms.
"I would love to Darian," she whispered in his ear, causing shivers of desire to run up his body.
"Then lets waste time, no more…" he responded and leaned back to press his lips on hers.
"But it would spoil it, so we'd better not."
Instead of lips, Darian found his lips pressed against her hand. His passion fogged brain could only muster up one word. "Pardon?"
Kristy backed out of his arms. "Oh, this is just as I imagined it, Darian. I get jealous, you come running after me to reassure me, we embrace…." She sighed. "It's such a beautiful beginning to our courtship!"
Things were slowly coming back into focus and nothing seemed to make since. "Courtship?"
She smiled at him. "Yes, and it's so thoughtful of you to be so patient with our relationship, and allowing it to grow gradually!"
"Thoughtful."
"MmmHmmm." She sighed again.
Where did I go wrong? he thought.
"Well, I'd better turn in! Goodnight!" She reached up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and before he could grab her, she was flying past him and out of the door.
"Women!" He raged to the empty room. "I will have gone mad, before I ever get her into my bed!"
Outside in the hall, as she raced to her chamber, Kristy rolled her eyes. "Men!" she murmured. "Does he think I stupid or what?"
She stepped into the room, locked it, then walked over the ************************************************************ **** Wrapping her arms around her she stared off into the night.
Not a star in the sky. Just as well! she thought. Look what the last wish had gotton her into! And though she knew that she was starting to feel something for Darian, she wasn't sure she wanted to stay in the strange century.
"You seem pleased with yourself, my child." a soothing male voice sounded behind her,
She knew who it was before she had turned around, Jubal. "It's about time you showed up!" she snapped at the angel who still wore the same flowing ivory robes as last time.
"Were you in need of me?" he asked with a tone that sounded a just a little mocking.
"I was in need of you the minute you popped out of here! Are we through here? Can I leave now?" She paced about the room as she raved on and on.
Jubal stood patiently waiting until she had finished her tirade then asked her softly. "Is that what you really wish? To go home?"
She plopped down on the bed and ran her fingers through her head, A look of misery marred her face. "Oh Jubal. I don't know. I do and I don't. Darian has got me so tied up inside," She sighed and looked up at the angel. "I think I'm falling in love with him. How could I do that to myself? How could I give my heart to someone who will never love me in return?" she asked exasperatingly.
He went over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "As I said before, you mustn't give up. Darian has already given you more of himself than he had wanted to. He wants to love you, Kristy. He just needs time."
"I'm trying, Jubal. I'm darn well trying," she told him tiredly.
Then she asked, "By the way, how is Christiana doing in my place?"
Jubal gave her a bemused smile, "She is, shall I say, trying to adjust to the American life. Your sister has taken her in hand, 'modernizing' her, if you will."
She looked thoughtful, "Then Danielle knows?"
"Your sister took one look at her and demand to know where her sister had been taken!" He chuckled in a musical way. "A very astute young lady, your sister is!"
Despite her wave of homesickness, Kristy smiled. Her sister, the ever practical one. She would sure as heck know how to deal with a man like Darian,
Darian. The smile faded into a forlorn expression. She rose from the bed and then leaned against the heavy bed post, a weary hand rubbing her forehead. "Oh, Jubal. Will it get better? Will we find happiness?"
"Believe, child. No matter what crosses your path--no matter if it may look hopeless. Believe." The wise being urged her. Then he was gone.
The resounding sound of thunder exploded on the other side of the castle walls. The sheets of hard rain that poured from the darkened sky sounded like sheets of paper sweeping along the floor as it drenched the English countryside. It had been this way for much of the morning and it seemed it would not be letting up anytime soon. It should have been a dull dreary day. No one even dared to venture out into the down pour, instead all who dwelled in the fortress stayed within it's confounds, servants doing their usual business (albeit a little slower). Darian and his higher ranked guard huddle together in the Great Hall were drinking ale and Sidra was tutoring Kristy on the fine arts of tapestry making (which though she was getting the hand of it, it somehow cease to provide her with the mental stimulation that her sister—in—law promised it would.)
Yes, it should have been a bleak, dull day. But it was proving to be just the opposite. There was a comfortable, almost homey feeling in the room. Gone was the tension that usually existed when Kristy and Darian where in the same vicinity of each other and in it's place was a growing awareness, a mutual attraction for the other.
Several times Kristy had caught her husband glancing her way, though he tried hard to hide it. And the reason Kristy had caught him in the act so often was because, she too, had been taking peeks of her own his way. Once she could have sworn he had actually blushed when her eyes had lifted to his while he studied her. But, of course, it had to be a play of the candlelight. The Earl of Greystone would never get all flustered enough to blush!
Sidra gave her sister—in—law a patient look, waiting for her to quit mooning like a love—sick hound over her brother, She had sit and watched Kristy sew the same stitch three times in the same place, ruining the whole effect of what she was trying to accomplish. But what did it matter? It was just so good to see this change between the two——more pointedly, the change in her brother. Ah, it was indeed, good to see the rough lines in Darian's face relax and soften. Merciful heavens, he was even smiling--a slight curve at the corners of his mouth, but a smile none the less!
Having a will of their own, Sidra eye's lifted and settled on the golden, handsome man that sat next to her brother. Vividly, the feel of his touch, the sweet pressure of his mouth, came running before her minds-eye, effecting her nearly the same as they had the night before. Why had she not seen it before? He had always disturbed her, pricked her ire. Now she knew why. She had been attracted to him but her mind had refused to acknowledge something so fruitless.
A regret-filled sigh escaped her and she dragged her eyes away from his beautiful body. It 'twould do no good to pine for something that could only come to naught.
The sigh snapped Kristy's attention back to Sidra. "What was that for?" she queried, eyebrows lifted in question.
She got real curious when Sidra did not lift her eyes, but instead concentrated on her tapestry stitches. "'Tis nothing," she told her quickly. Too quickly. And was her complexion growing a little pink?
She narrowed her eyes at her friend and ordered, "Okay, out with it. Who is he?"
Sidra did a miserable job of feigning ignorance. "He? I cannot imagine what you mean, Kristy."
"The 'he' that is the cause for that heartfelt sigh I just heard you let go!" She teased. And then she caught Sidra quick unconscious glance at Tilden.
"I knew it! I knew behind all that arguing, there lurked an attraction! You're in love Tilden, aren't you!" she announce, quite proud of herself for being right in her assumptions.
But Sidra's face did not reflect Kristy's enthusiasm. In fact she look a great deal apprehensive. "Please, Kristy, you mustn't say that! If Darian thought that we... Tilden and I simply cannot be," she whispered insistently.
"But I don't understand, Sidra. I know Tilden feels something for you, I'm sure of it. Why wouldn't Darian be happy about it?" A frown of puzzlement marred her face as she searched Sidra eyes.
"1 am a daughter of an earl, Kristy. Tilden is a son of a landless knight. He does have noble blood, his father had been the fifth son of a baron and had been left no lands, but you see that makes no difference. It does not change our standing in life. I would never be allowed to marry Tilden." she explained in a despairing tone.
Kristy shook her head in amazement. Being from a world where the poorest born person could arise in life and do and be anything they wanted if they worked hard enough, made it seem incredible that such trivial things such as whether of not you had land, could stand in the way of two person's happiness.
"There must be a way...." Kristy began to argue the point.
"No! Kristy we must speak no more of this. Darian has told me he would see me married. So you see I will soon be away from Tilden and the attraction will die." She quickly dismissed anymore arguments, though to even her own ears the last words rang so very false. "Now, about that the tapestry you destroying beyond recognition..." she quickly turned the conversation to safer ground.
A while later, it was well apparent that the brave knights of Greystone were steadily on their way to getting very sauced. After all they had done nothing but indulge in cup after cup of ale the whole afternoon. There voices were growing louder and ever so often there would be a great burst of laughter, usually after Sir Will got through with one of his bawdy jokes.
Kristy had finally given up on the tapestry business and instead decided to look over some of the castle's accounts. Though twelfth century writing was still somewhat hard to understand, she was steadily beginning to decipher the words if she studied them slowly. And since she was always good with figures, even managing her own fortune she had acquired through modeling, she had decided to work with Darian's steward (who was so old he could now barely see or hear). She was pretty well engrossed in what she was doing, until Tilden's words caused her to pause and look up.
"Vachel, my dear friend, you would bloody well, lead us to the edge of the earth, if you thought it would bring down the enemy!" Tilden declared, slightly slurring his words together.
"Ha! Even Vachel couldn't bring that about!" she said in a know—it—all voice from across the room.
Tilden raised an eyebrow and returned, "And what, Countess, do mean by that'?"
Kristy rose and shrugged her shoulders as she walked over to where they gathered. "You can't very well go to the edge of the earth if the earth is round," she informed.
THAT brought on hoots of laughter and guffaws from the tipsy guard, included her husband.
Darian eyed her incredulously. "That dear wife is the most preposterous thing I've ever heard you say! The earth round! Would we not all slide off it that were the case?" He sounded just a little too condescending. And Kristy Kendrick did not like being talked down to.
"You think you are so clever, don't you. Well tell me then how the sun always goes from east to west across the sky. Have you ever seen it come back across? Where does it go?" She challenged them pertly, arms crossed, fingers drumming at her elbow.
"Well...." Darian started but stopped and looked to his men for the answer. His men however could only give him a blank look. They would be of no help. Then a rather inventive answer come to him. "Why, who are we to question the workings of God!"
Kristy couldn't help but smile at that one. "Oh, that was a quick answer, Darian, but just a little lame," she told him dryly.
Darian frowned. "What does that mean? I am not a lame man!"
"It means your answer was not at all intelligent!"
Darian stood and towered over her, trying to intimidate her, and failing to do so. "You dare call me unintelligent, madam!" he demanded softly, and only Kristy saw the teasing glint in his eyes, for the rest of the men grew strangely quiet, one even drew a quick breath.
She leaned closer to his face that was bent toward her, their noses almost touching. "Yeah, what cha going to do about it." she taunted, a smile playing at her soft lips.
Their eyes held for a sizzling second more, so completely and blatantly aware of the other. They were not even yet touching, but you could feel the electricity that surrounded them.
Kristy didn't know whether she moved towards him or he moved towards her, but somehow she found herself engulfed in his brawny arms, her arms around his neck and there lips clinging, hungrily tasting.
lt didn't matter that they were surrounded by his men who sat their with their mouths agape in amazement, Sidra who was grinning widely and watching with great interest, and the servants who had stopped what they were doing to witness such unusual behavior from their master.
It didn't matter, that is until the whole castle erupted in applause, loud whoops, and whistles. Reality came crashing down around them and they reluctantly parted.
A very out of breath Kristy, could do naught but stare in amazement at her husband, who seemed to be in the very same state she was in. Good Lord! What was she doing, practically making out with him in front of all these people? She would have thought she had more control than that! But with Darian she couldn't know what to expect. With him she became someone different altogether!
Darian was thinking the same thing himself. Any more displays such as this and he'd start becoming less intimidating to his men! What would they think, of their lord and master letting a woman talk to him in such a way? She was getting to him. But God help him, he could not bring himself to care about it overmuch. Nay, he even enjoyed it!
She was still in the circle of his arms, neither too anxious to move. A mischievous grin lingered on Darian's lips and he quipped, "It's still flat!"
"Oh, you!" She playfully hit at his chest, laughing at she spoke. "You can disbelieve me all you want. It won't change the fact that the world is round!"
Tilden motioned for them to sit. "Come sit with us, milady and tell us what other of the world's mysteries we mortals have been ignorant about! I sure it will prove much more entertaining than Sir Wills horrid attempts at being funny!" He sent Sir Will a poke in the ribs and received feigned look of hurt from the knight.
To her further surprise, Darian sat and drew her to sit on his lap, his arms coming about her comfortably. "Please do, Christiana, entertain us with your stories. These lazy knights have naught else to!"
And entertain them she did, though all she did was tell them about things that would happen in the future, things that were common place knowledge to her. To them she seemed such like a good storyteller with a great imagination. If they only knew!
And all the while she sat upon Darian's lap she stayed well aware of his presence. His hand absently rubbing her arm, his fingers slowly feeling their way to her hand where they intimately laced with hers. His chest felt warm against her back, his breath sweet upon her cheek. She could feel the vibration of his voice when he spoke or laughed. She felt HIM. He exuded power and strength. His very presence spoke of authority. Yet now she felt something else. A gentleness. A tenderness. It was true that these traits were a great contrast from the role he tried to play but she knew they were there. She knew they were reawakening where they once had lain dormant. Suppressed.
It was happening. What she had wish, what she had always desired, was starting to happen. It didn't matter that she had to travel into the past to see it come to pass, or that she had leave her family and friends. This was now her family. This, though filled will drunken lazy knights, was her home. This, though still very unfamiliar, was now her life.

chapter 9

"My Lord sent me to bring you a summons, my lady. He bids you come to his chamber directly," Warrick informed her in his most uptight and snooty voice. He stood with shoulders back and looking not at her, but somewhere over her shoulder. At first Kristy wasn't even sure the man's servant was talking to her!
Three days had passed since the rains had come and it was now evening. Kristy and Sidra were just coming in from a stroll in the gardens when Warrick approached them.
Kristy looked curiously at the man. "What for?"
Warrick blinked and looked as if he'd not understood her.
She sighed. "What does he want?"
Warrick sniffed and stuck his nose higher in the air. "He desires that you bathe him, my lady."
It was Kristy's turn to blink. "Excuse me."
Sidra quickly jumped in. "Tell Darian that the countess will be up shortly, Warrick."
"Very well," he muttered and left them.
Kristy turned to Sidra. "Tell me I didn't hear right! He wants me to bathe him? He can't bathe himself?"
Sidra smiled. "Kristy, 'tis our way. It's the woman of the house's duty to assist with bathing the lord. That he has not asked for you, just shows that he was giving you time."
Kristy's mind raced. How could she be that near to him…touch him… and something not happen! But then again, what was she waiting for?
LOVE! She argued with herself. Yet, she knew that she loved Darian. She knew it with every look that he gave her, every small touch of his hand. The last three days had been wonderful between them. He'd taken time to talk with her and get to know her. He'd been kind and charming…and patient.
Had his patience ran its course? They were married after all. Was she just being silly waiting for his declaration of love? What if he loved her, but didn't know how to say it?
It was all so confusing! Sometimes when he looked at her, she was sure that there must be some sort of feeling that he felt for her, and other times, when he seemed aloof, she was unsure.
"So, what do I do?"
"You just wash his back and anything else he ask you to. I would think that it shouldn't be so hard," she said with a teasing grin.
"But you know that we have not been…um…intimate, yet. That makes things a little…awkward!" she said with a red face.
"But you love him, Kristy," Sidra answered softly.
"How did you…"
"It's written in your eyes and heard in your voice."
Kristy groaned. "I didn't know I was so obvious."
"Only to another woman." She grinned. "Men are not as fast divining these things. Especially when they are struggling with feelings of their own."
Kristy looked at Sidra with hopeful eyes. "Do you think that he cares for me?"
"Yes, I do. I have not seen him this way since he married Isabella."
Kristy felt her heart constrict at hearing Darian's first wife's name. "He loved her very much, didn't he."
Sidra looked away. "Yes, and she hurt him terribly."
"Will you tell me about her?"
"No." Sidra looked at her again. "Not today. You have a very large man to bathe, I do believe. And he's water is growing colder as we speak!"
Kristy wiped her palms on her skirt and tried to smile. "Well, I guess I'd better get to it, then."
Sidra gave her a quick hug. "Just love him, sister. That is all he needs. All he has ever wanted, though he does not realize it."
Kristy hugged her back then pulled away. Taking a deep fortified breath, she squared her shoulders and turned towards the stairs. "Wish me luck," she called over her shoulder.
"I wish you love," Sidra called back.
****************
Darian paced back and forth in his chamber as the servants worked hard filling his bath. He wore a dark foreboding expression that made the servants do their task that much faster.
But they'd mistaken his look for anger and that was not the case. Nay, he was troubled and yes, even worried, he'd done the right thing. By all that was right, of course he did the right thing! he argued with himself. Yet he remained uncertain.
He knew that he'd come to care for Christiana. He cared for her more than he was willing to admit. To do so would put him in the vulnerable position that he'd been in when he was wed to Isabella. Yet, he wanted her like he'd never wanted Isabella. A part of her reached out to him. It made him want to hold her to himself, protect her, never let her out of his sight.
Ah, 'twas a mistake to think this way. It was because they'd been together these few days. That must be why he was thinking this way! Had he ever felt so comfortable and free around a woman? Nay, he had not. They could talk for hours or say nothing. It mattered not. It just felt good being with his wife.
His wife. That was the rub. He wanted to make her his true wife! Surely they had had enough time to get to know one another as Christiana put it! His body ached to love her and he was running out of patience. He wanted her in his bed this night and every night hence. By God, he would see that it happened!
At least, he hoped that it would happen. With Christiana, one never knew.
The servants finished their task and escaped the room like there was fire licking at their heels. He had to chuckle. He'd better get into a better frame of mind, else Christiana would be fleeing the same way.
Anticipation built in his chest as he removed his clothing. She would be here soon. How would she react to touching him, bathing his bare flesh? He knew that he would be in flames. Would she feel the same?
Easing himself into the hot, steamy bath he consciously eased his features into a pleasant expression.
Then…the door opened and there she stood. His eyes met hers and he knew. He felt it to his very soul.
***************
Christiana nervously licked her lips as she stared at the naked man in the huge ********************************l tub. Lord, have mercy, but he was gorgeous. All those bulging muscles in his arms and chest and that black hair curling about his shoulders…why she'd never seen a romance novel cover with a sexier man! And by the look of him, the hooded gaze he was sending her way, she knew that he wanted her. And Heaven help her, she wanted him too.
But she wasn't going to let him know that…at least, not yet.
"I just want to go on record, right now, and say that I've never even heard of this custom. I don't understand why a grown man can't give himself a bath," she told him with a teasing smile in her voice and shining in her eyes.
He gave her a sexy smile that could melt a lollipop right off its stick. "Because, its more fun if his wife does it for him."
She swallowed. He did have a point!
Christiana walked closer. "So…how does one go about this…uh…bathing business?"
He reached over the tub and grabbed something off the floor. "Here's the cloth and here is the soap. Why don't you start with my back."
Okay. The back was good. Safe. No big deal. She lathered the soap into the rag, or rather tried to. Soap wasn't the soft bubbly stuff it was the 20th century!
Carefully she started rubbing the cloth along his shoulders. So far so good. He was leaning forward, so she continued in a downward motion until she encountered the water. She quickly dipped her hand beneath the water and swiped what was left of his back, careful not to stray any further and moved back up, audibly breathing a sigh of relief.
Darian grinned at the sound and slowly leaned back. "Now my chest," he ordered in a low voice.
Steady girl! she warned herself. You can do this!! She soaped up the rag again, but before she reached his chest, his hand encircled her wrist.
"I would rather you use your hand."
Kristy's eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"
He looked at her innocently. "It, uh, tickles using the cloth."
Kristy rolled her eyes. She would bet good money that he didn't have a ticklish bone in his body! But from the look of his little grin that he wore, she knew that he was issuing a challenge. She was always a sucker for a challenge.
"Okay," she said, and draped the cloth on the side of the tub. She soaped up her hands and tried to catch her breath.
Lordy! Half of her wanted to reach out and run her fingers along the muscles of his strong chest…the other part of her…the sane and logical part, wanted to run for her life!
Tentatively she reached out and placed one hand, then the other. The feel of his warm skin made her own skin feel warm. Very warm! His chest was hard, yet when she felt his heartbeat, she knew that beneath all the muscle and the 'strong man' façade, there lived a living breathing man. A man capable of emotions and feelings. A man capable to…love.
He moved and she realized that she had stopped. Slowly she lifted her eyes and found his, blazing at her with such a passion filled intensity that, for a moment, she froze. He lifted his hand out of the water and covered the one that lay over his heart.
"Do you feel how it beats for you, my lady?" he asked in a husky voice.
She could not look away. Neither could she find her voice. She could do nothing except nod her head, yes.
"Am I to wait another night, Christiana? Am I to spend this night alone?"
As the country song says, "This ain't no thinkin' thing…" And it wasn't one at that moment. She went with her gut feeling. "No. You'll not sleep alone, tonight."
She loved him. With her whole being, she loved Darian Maxwell, Earl of Greystone.
And she made the mistake…of telling him so…

Chapter 10

Darian froze as he stared down with horror at his wife. "Do not speak those words, madam," he told her harshly, stressing each word.
Kristy shook her head against the pillow. "I don't understand," she said faintly, all the while cursing herself for saying those three little words. She hadn't meant to say them.
"Love," he spat out, "is just a word women use to twist a man to do their bidding. It will not work with me."
Embarrassed and angry she pushed him back and sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. "Look, Mr. Male Egotistical Maniac, if I tell a person I love them, then I love them. No big deal, got it? You can take your warped view of the world and stuff it, because I'm tired of being hit over the head with it." She tried to get out of the bed but he stopped her.
"What do you mean by ego-ti... whatever you said! What does that mean?"
Kristy rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that you took something innocent that I told you and made it a huge issue. I can't help that I love you, Darian, and you shouldn't be threatened by it."
He didn't like that. "I am not threatened by it!"
She just looked at him. "Oh?"
He stared at her for another moment, then flipped back on his back and sighed. "My only dealings with love were not very happy. Maybe I am threatened by it, as you say."
Whoa! Did Darian just admit he was...WRONG?? Don't gloat, she warned herself. "Your marriage to Isabella?" she ventured.
"Yes." He stared up at the ceiling of the canopy, then looked over to Kristy.
"You loved her."
"Aye, I loved her, or I thought I did," he answered quietly, thoughtfully. "But when I look back over our life together, after she had betrayed me, I realize that my love had been somewhat blind and one sided. Now, I remember things about her that I had simply overlooked before. Her selfishness, her flirtations ways to men she would meet, how she would pout to get her way...she could practically talk anybody into anything, she had such a way about her." He reached out and took a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and finger. "When I walked into that bedchamber that day, and found her with my captain-of-the-guard, I wanted to kill them both."
"Did you?" Kristy asked carefully.
"No," he answered and smiled when she let out a relieved breath.
He continued. "She started pleading with me, tears running down her cheeks, saying that it wasn't what I thought it was, and for one insane moment I almost believed her...wanted to believe her. But I'm not a fool and she soon realized it."
He fell quite and Kristy reached out and took his hand in her own. "How did she die?"
"I had left her in the chamber in tears, her lover had already fled the room, and went to Tilden's chamber. I drank myself sick that night and passed out. I was awakened, however, the next morning and told that my wife had left with her lover in the night. But somewhere along the roads they were attacked by bandits. They were robbed and killed. Their bodies left along side of the road to rot. My men brought her body back to Sedgwick Manor and there we buried her."
Tears welled up in Kristy's eyes and she brought Darian's hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, Darian..." she whispered as she kissed his rough palm.
He tipped her face to where he could see it fully. "Why do you weep, my lady?"
"I'm just sorry that you were hurt so badly. You deserve to have love in your life Darian. Even the angels in Heaven think so." she told him, remembering what Jubal had told her about their concern for him.
His eyes took on a look of unbelief. "You converse with the heavenly beings, do you?"
She just smiled and cuddled up to him. "You'd be surprised," she murmured.
He chuckled. "Nothing that comes out of your mouth surprises me, anymore. Now go to sleep," he ordered softly, folding her into his arms.
"Ok. Goodnight, Darian."
"Goodnight, Christiana." He was silent for a moment, then added, "I meant it earlier Christiana, what I said about love. I don't want you to say it anymore."
She opened her eyes briefly, then closed them. "Okay. I'll just show you then."
He didn't reply.
****************************
The next morning, the whole castle noticed that the Lord and Lady did not rise as early as usual. There were secret smiles and even money exchanged from some of his men who'd been placing bets. There was not much that went on in the castle unnoticed. Gossip was very much a part of medieval life.
There was a meeting that morning, after Darian came down, with all his men. Kristy felt an unease as she watched them discuss their plans. It was about Worthingham, she knew. Was the plan dangerous? Would it put her husband in harms way? Just thinking about it, was giving her a headache, so she went out to the gardens.
"Well, it seems the bath was just the trick to get you two together!"
Kristy turned and saw Sidra sitting among the roses. She wore a sly grin on her face.
Kristy smiled back. "You are right! I've never felt like this, Sidra," she confessed as she sat by her sister-in-law. "But I made the mistake of telling him I loved him...afterward. And he really flipped his lid about it!"
"Flipped his what?"
"He was upset," Kristy amended. "He told me about Isabella and her betrayal. It just makes me so mad that one woman could ruin him where love is concern. He wants nothing to do with it." She covered her face with a groan.
Sidra patted her on the back. "Now, Kristy, do not despair so quickly! He probably already loves you and will not admit it to himself."
Kristy dropped her hands and looked hopefully at Sidra. "Do you think so? And if he does, how am I to ever know?"
"How are you to ever know what?" Darian asked, startling both women. He bent to kiss his sister on the cheek. "How are this morn, Sidra?" he asked happily.
Sidra giggled. "Not as well as you it seems!" With that she scooted off the bench. "I have...things...to do. See you around!"
Darian frowned after her. "She'll see me around what?"
Kristy pulled at him hand so that he would sit by her. "It's just an expression that she's learned from me."
"Dear God! You are not going to have everyone speak like you, are you? I'll never understand what is being said!" he complained.
She rolled her eyes and looped her arm through his. "How did the meeting go?"
He stared at her a moment then stared off into the garden thoughtfully. "We attack after three sennights. We've had word that Worthingham will be away from his lands until then."
Kristy made a mental note to ask Sidra about the word 'sennight'. "Is this dangerous?"
He looked back at her. "Yes. Very dangerous." He then got up from his seat and pulled Kristy up with him. "Walk with me," he ordered.
As they walked along the garden path they came to the gate. He pointed to a distant hill. "That is where we will be going. That is Worthingham's lands."
Kristy looked up at Darian and saw the determination written on his features. His hatred of Worthingham ran deep. She knew that it was on his mind day and night. He had to avenge is father and brother. It was the way, in this barbaric land.

Still holding his hand, Kristy leaned her head against his arm. "You've never told me about your childhood, Darian. What were your parents like? Your brother?" She felt him flinched at her question and she, for a moment, wished she could retract it. Was he still grieving, or was there something else?
Darian rarely thought about his childhood. There wasn't much happiness to account for, so he simply had tried to forget about it. He hadn't talked about his feelings as a boy...ever. Tilden knew. So did Sidra. But they never, never discussed it. But now, his curious wife was wanting to know about him, and instead pushing her away, he felt a sudden need to tell her. A need for her to know why he was, the way he was. Yes, he thought, she would understand. He relaxed.
In low whispering tones he told her of his life growing up at Greystone. He left out nothing. Not the bitterness, the hurt, or his strong need for his father's approval. He spoke of his brother, who Darian had practically worshipped, about his sadness about his brother's death. He then told her about his years of fighting with King Richard in the crusades.
Kristy had the feeling that he was leaving much out about those years. She'd read somewhere that the men who fought in the crusades endured unbelievable horrors. Probably much like the soldiers who fought in Viet Nam.
"And then," he concluded, "our blessed king told me about his 'delightful girl' that he had encountered at court once, and demanded that I marry her." He finished his story in a happier tone than he had used before. "Of course, he neglected to tell me she was such a wild wench, who would try to run away on her wedding day!"
She punched him in the arm. "Well, I was scared! The maids made you sound like a monster or something equally terrifying!"
He scoffed at that. "You did not seem a bit terrified to me. In fact, you were quite tenacious, if memory serves me correctly."
They both laughed and continued on their walk about the garden.
************************************************************ *****
The next two weeks were, in a word, wonderful. And during those weeks, a miraculous change had come over Darian of Greystone. Even his men would stand agape at him, at a sudden burst of laughter from their earl, or the easy smile that that came more frequently, more naturally. And they were taken back at the way he would be right in the middle of castle business or a sword lesson with his squire, and then would get that strange glint in his eye and suddenly leave to seek out his wife.
The serfs and the villagers would find themselves smiling at the besotted couple as they strolled about the grounds, hand in hand, in their own little world that lovers existed in.
Yes, it was all so very wonderful——but unfortunately not perfect. The trap that they were setting for Worthingham loomed over them like a bad omen. When Kristy had been told about their complete plan she had argued in vain, against it. Neither Darian nor Sidra would be talked out of it.
And Kristy was scared. For Darian and Sidra. Anything could go wrong and they could easily be killed or hurt. She felt angry that her new found happiness could suddenly be cut short. Angry that Darian was so intent on getting revenge on this Worthingham character.
But then there was something else. It was only a feeling, but a strong one. Call it woman's intuition or something else, it was real. Something was going to go wrong, she knew it. Maybe too, she had been thinking of the last words that Jubal had told her, No matter what happens....no matter what happens... What had he meant? What had he not told her? It was an ill feeling that would not go away.
And now that day was here and that ill feeling grew stronger.
Standing outside the castle, she watched as they made last minute checks on their supplies and weapons. Several of the guard were dressed in dark green to camouflage themselves as they traveled along the forest. Sidra was ready to enter the carriage, along with Squire Percy. Darian was dressed in his colors of gray and gold. His face set with a determination as he talked quietly with Tilden over details, who was dressed much the same. Off to the side, the pennant of the Grey Eagle already flying proudly, ready for the journey.
Cold wet mist swirled about them in chilly coats. The fog hung low over the damp English soil making it nearly impossible to see ten feet ahead. How would they be able to see if Worthingham attacked them on the road?
Apprehension twisted at Kristy's gut, and inside her their cried a helplessness. Nothing. Nothing she could do or say would stop this from happening. Dear God, please let them be alright. Please, bring them home safely... The prayer was her only hope.
Darian turned from Tilden and walked over to Christiana to say his good-byes. He reached out for her hand and brought it to his lips. "Please do not look so worried, my love, I have every confidence that we shall return safely." he reassured her.
Kristy threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. She felt his arms come about her also, holding just as tight. "Oh Darian, be safe," she whispered. She pulled back a little and looked into his yes. "I know you may not want to hear this but I fear I must say it. I love you, Darian. I love you so much it sometimes overwhelms me." A tear trickled down her cheek and to her relief, Darian did not pull away. Instead, he leaned down to catch the tear against his lips. "I know, Christiana, I know and I…" he stopped and then looked away. "I bid you be safe and stay in doors while I am gone."
Kristy's heart clenched within her chest. Why couldn't he say it? Why couldn't he tell her what she already knew…that he loved her. She might never see him again….but no. She wouldn't dwell on that. He must come back. She had to believe that he would.
He then pulled her roughly to him and kissed her hard on the lips like a desperate man taking his last drink of water. "Goodbye, my love," he said in a gravelly voice and then turned to mount his horse.
At least, that was something.
********************************************************
The day seemed to drag by. Kristy had tried all day to keep herself busy, trying not to think about Darian or what he was doing—and it hadn't worked. She still had that bad feeling and it only increased her nervousness.
After the noon hour, Nan came upon her mistress washing the windows, of all things! "My lady! What are you about? You should not be doing that work. Let me call one of the cleaning servants. She stopped when she saw Kristy's hands shaking as she dipped the rag into the pail of soapy water. "Lady Kristy, why you are a bundle of nerves! What ever is the matter?" the maid asked in a worried voice.
Kristy straightened and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her brow. "Oh, Nan. I am just frightened for Darian and Sidra, is all. 1 can't seem to get my mind off it."
Nan looked at her with motherly concern and patted her hack. "Ah, milady, 'tis only that you miss your man. Things have been going fine for you, have they not?"
Kristy managed a small smile that didn't quit reach her eyes. None of the servants knew, of 'The Plan'. "Yes, things are going well for us. You're probably right. I'm just missing him, is all."
Why do you not take a walk. The cool air will do you good and perhaps ease your mind," she suggested.
Kristy nodded her head. "Maybe you are right. If you will get me my cloak, I'll do just that."
And it did seem to help some. She had walked through the village and was about to start back when something in the distance caught her eye. It was a flash of light, as if the sun had reflected upon a shiny object. The flash had come from behind a clump of bushes at the edge of the forest that bordered Greystone.
What in the world was it? Then her brow wrinkled in concern. Had one of the children drifted that far out? Then the brows raised back up again. Or was it that little thief, Gilbert, again? The tailor had told her that morning that one of his knifes had went missing recently. The flash would explain it. That little vixen, she thought, a little amused, he has probably got quite a stash out there!
With a heavy sigh she started up the hill towards the forest. She needed to deal with Gilbert once and for all! She wondered what punishment she should deal to him. Cleaning the stables? No, he would like being around the horses. Cleaning the castle floors? No, not that either. He would just try to steal something in there. There had to be something…Ah… She smiled to herse1f. When Darian returned, she would have him polish all that armor and weaponry—under supervision of course. That should deal with the problem quite sufficiently!
She reached the place where she had thought the source of the flash came from. Nothing. She walked around the spot, peering into the bushes and only become more perplexed. Not realizing it, she spoke aloud. "I could have sworn I saw something!" She gave the area one more sweeping glance then shrugged her shoulders and turned to leave.
"The Lady Christiana, I presume?" a deep gravely voice spoke behind her.
Kri3ty gave a quick intake of breath arid swirled around. There before her stood a extravagantly clothed man standing regally upright, one hand on the hilt of his sword. But it was his face that made Kristy grow cold. He had the most evil countenance she had ever come across. He had black curled hair that fell longer than was the fashion, perhaps two or three inches below his shoulders, his eyes black and beady, cold and sinister. A mustache and goatee surrounded a pair of thin evilly smiling lips. It was as if she had come face to face with the devil himself.
She swallowed hard and carefully erased the fear that was beginning to grow within her, from her face. With so much a blink, she looked at him in a very cool, snobbish way and ask, 'And you are, Sir?'
The man gave a stiff how, barely bending, and announced, "Lord Fredrick, my lady," He paused then added, "...of Worthingham."

Chapter 11

Inside Kristy was trembling. What was Worthingham doing here? He was supposed to be following Sidra. Dear Lord! That could only mean…
Outside, she managed to maintain her cool, her eyes remained steady upon his. "It seems that you are trespassing, Lord Worthingham. I shall have to insist that you take your leave."
All she received as an answer was a dastardly, cunning smile. She felt his eyes rake her body, slowly, insultingly. "I did not realize that Darian had married so well. I think you and I could get along quite well together," he said in a slick, smooth voice that gave her chills.
She stepped back instinctively, but urged herself to stay calm and continue playing the naïve medieval girl, "I think this conversation is over. If you'll excuse me…" She turned to go, but she got no further than a few steps when an icy hand gripped her arm.
"I think not, my lady. You see, you must come with me, instead. " He jerk her against him, her back to his leather clad chest. His arm then curled around her neck.
"HeeeeYah!" She yelled and plunged a quick elbow into his gut, grabbed hold of his arm and expertly flipped him gracefully over her shoulder.
"Yes! I'm getting good at this!" she exclaimed and then realized she should be running instead. With one last glimpse of his stunned body writhing about the ground she took off.
Worthingham let go a string of French curses while holding his belly and then yelled into the forest, "Guards! Don't just stay hidden like idiots! GRAB THE WENCH!" He screeched at the top of his lungs.
Kristy threw a glance over her shoulder arid saw three big knights, clothed in black and silver, descending upon her. "No! NO!" She screamed when they tackled her to the ground. Two of the knights grabbed each an arm and hauled her up from the ground. Her braid was coming loose and wisps of hair hung about her face. Her bliant was torn and grass stained.
With out luck, she wrestled against their clutches. Screaming at the top of her lungs. But she knew it was to no avail. She had wondered to far for anyone to hear. Her face was defiant when she, again, faced her enemy. "Darian will kill you, you slimy toad!" she threw at him, voice filled with loathing.
He smiled coldly at her and grabbed her face in a painful grip. "I am amazed that Greystone thought I would not find out what he had planned. Does he think me stupid, my lady!" He now sounded crazed. Kristy realized she was dealing with a mad man. "But I
have once again bested him. I will take his wife. Mayhaps you may even enjoy it! He laughed at that. It was a black laugh. A demon laugh.
She jerked her chin from his grip. "He will come for me. And then he'll cut you up like dog meat."
He laugh once again. "Will he, my fiery lady? My what a vocabulary you possess for a lady!" He laughed again. "Once he reads the message I have sent him, I doubt there will he any gallant rescues." He ran a black gloved finger down her throat and between her breast. But it wasn't just his touch that made her blood grow cold.
Her face paled and she struggled once again against the clutches that held her. "What message? Dear God, what have you done?" she cried.
"Your face, pretty lady, has assured me that I had guessed right in my presumptions of your marital state. You fear that he will believe my word over yours, do you not? Especially when he reads that you have come to me on your own free will, that you have been meeting me in secret for quite sometime now," he goaded. "It is known all over England and abroad of Darian's mistrust of women. Why should a wife, that he was ordered to marry, be any different,"
"He will come for me, you pompous, overbearing, son of a pig. And when he does, it will be my pleasure to see you on your knees begging for mercy." She raked his black form with utter loathing seething in her darkened blue eyes. "It will be my pleasure," she reemphasized smoothly with more confidence than she actually felt.
But the fact was she wasn't confident. In fact she was incredibly scared. What would Darian think of that note? It spoke of betrayal on her part. Would he believe his enemy or have faith in his wife? It was that answer that she feared the most.
Worthingham smiled mockingly at dark haired beauty and found himself wondering about the accent she had just slipped into, unknowingly. But though she was a very desirable woman, it wasn't she that he wanted. He wanted what was promised to him. He wanted the Lady Sidra.
He was no fool. He knew from his source at Greystone that Darian had become enamoured of his wife. Maybe even in love with her. But he was also wary and his note would hurt him. Knock him off his guard. And that's when Fredrick Worthingham would make his move. He would get his bride and destroy the lord of the castle at one time.
He looked at his guard and nodded. "Bind her hands and strap something over that mouth. We ride for Worthingham."
Her hands were painfully bound tightly behind her and a gag stuck in her mouth. They brought horses from the forest and she was hauled up to sit in front of Worthingham. Her skin crawled as she was force to lean against him. His breath on her ear sickened her to the point that she thought she might throw up. And she wanted to cry. Cry for herself, cry for Darian, cry for a love that could soon be lost forever.
Come get me, Darian. Please come get me....
************************************************************ ******************
The carriage bounced along the rough dusty road, creating a very uncomfortable ride for its inhabitants. They had ridden for the better part of the day and were almost to the place where they would make camp. The wind had picked up and the air had grown suddenly cold with the sun now sinking below the horizon.
Sidra huddled under the furs and blankets wishing that they'd soon stop. She was cold, tired and hungry. And on top of that she was tired of the way that wily squire of Darian's kept staring at her. What was he, ten and five? The look of longing was so clearly written upon his face. Sidra almost felt sorry for him. Mayhaps she would talk to Darian and suggest introducing him to one of the castle maids when they returned.
She parted the small curtain and peered out of the carriage ************************************************************ **** She found Tilden riding beside them on his steed. She smiled wistfully at the stunning picture he made, sitting upon that great gray horse, clothed with the Greystone colors and the gold in his hair shimmering against the dimming sunlight. They had barely spoken since that night he had told her of his feelings. They both seemed to be avoiding being alone with one another. It seemed to be the best thing to do, but oh, how she miss being in his company. She even missed their arguments.
"Tilden, are we close to making camp?"
Tilden looked down when he heard the voice that had the unique ability to set his heart apounding. "Aye, my lady. 'Tis only a short distance now," He answered her softly a loving smile playing on his lips. His breath froze like puffs of smoke as he spoke. "Would you be getting tired, Sidra?"
"Yes, I could swear this road to London gets more rugged the more I travel on it!" She complained. Then she queried, "Has there been any sign of Worthingham?"
He smiled at her worried face and assured her. "Nay, but we did not expect him to strike until nightfall." He pulled his horse closer to the carriage. Bending low, he looked at her in such a way that caused her heart to catch in her throat. "But do not worry yourself, my Sidra. There is naught that 1 would allow to happen to you. There is no need to be fearful."
Their eyes held and an unspoken communication passed between them. I love you. he wanted to say. I miss you, she wanted him to know.
With one more smile he straightened and nudged his horse on up ahead and she let the curtain fall and settled back into the carriage.
Tilden rode up ahead to Darian's side. "Your sister is complaining of the roughness of the ride," he told him with a smile in his tone.
Darian sent him a long-suffering look. "Ah! The fate of all men, my dear friend, is for us to put up with the woman's complaints. But the rewards far outweigh the disadvantages!" he chuckled as he spoke.
Tilden raised a mocking eyebrow at the earl. "Am I seeing a change of heart towards the weaker gender, milord? 'Tis only a month ago you would have spat on the ground upon which they walked!" he told him aghast.
Darian laughed at that and nodded towards Tilden, "'Tis true, sir, but I had not known my lady then!" He smiled to himself as he thought of her words of love to him this morning. He wanted to hurry this business with Worthingham along and get back to his wife. One night was too long to be from her side.
"Milord! Milord!" came a loud cry from behind them.
Darian halted his mount and turned to see one of his disguised guards riding up towards them. Behind him he was pulling along another horse. On the horse looked to be a boy of about ten and three years, probably a page. But what caused Darian to straighten with caution, was the colors that he wore.
He wore the colors of Worthingham.
"Milord!" the guard addressed once again as he reached them, his cheeks red from the cold, his breath coming hard. "We found him along the road. He says he bears a message from his liege lord."
Darian eyed the youth coldly, causing the boy to shrink back on his horse. "Were there more riders'?" he questioned to his knight.
"Nay, milord. He rides alone."
"State your name and your business, boy," Darian ordered him.
Fear shown brightly in the young page's eyes. He had not wanted to come on this quest. Darian Maxwell's reputation was not unknown to him and he felt himself frozen with dread. "Kendall of Worthingham, m—milord. Page to...to Lord Frederick of...Worthingham." The youth stammered. He pushed forward a rolled ************************************************************ **** that he had in his hands towards Darian. "I was told to deliver this to...you."
Darian slowly withdrew the paper from the boy's hands and gave him one more icy perusal before opening it.
As he read the words, an incredible pain struck his heart. He felt as though a part of him died at that moment. The other part raged, however. So much that had he had less control he would have killed the boy just for bringing him such a message. His hands gripped the edge of the letter, causing his knuckles to turn white. His jaw twitched, his face that had at first drained of it's color, now glowed red with the outrage that he felt.
With as much calmness as he could muster, he handed the note to Tilden.
Tilden quickly read the message:
To the Earl of Greystone:
Excellent trap you had set for me, my lord earl. I would have fallen for it, too, if it hadn't been for one minor detail you seem to have overlooked.
Your wife. And a very charming lady she is. Talkative, too. You didn't know of course that we had been meeting for sometime, did you? Of course not. You were much to besotted with her to notice. And you thought all this time she was down there with those nasty villagers of yours!
I have her now, Greystone. I've decided I much prefer her to my former betrothed. Even trade, I think.
A warning, Greystone. Don't try any gallant rescues. You could find a wife that has no desire to be rescued! And beside, my guard have been ordered to tire their arrows at any person that even looks like you, around my keep.
You've been bested again, my friend.
Lord Fredrick Worthingham
"My lord, surely you do not believe this!" he asked Darian in an unbelieving voice, waving the note about In the air.
Darian ignored the question and directed his attention to the boy. "Ride back to your lord and assure him that he can keep his prize. 1 will not be coming to claim it."
The youth nodded and quickly rode back the way he came.
"You cannot mean that, milord!" Tilden beseeched him again. "Christiana loves you. Anyone could tell you that."
"Anyone, Tilden? Can anyone tell me where she was every hour of the day? Can you tell me that. Sir knight!" he shouted at him..
"Nay. 1 cannot, but..."
"We ride back to Greystone." he said gravely.
"but Darian..." Tilden tried again.
"We ride!"
Sidra opened the carriage door at the same moment that Darian went galloping past her. She was taken back at the look on his face. It had been hurt. Almost as if he was suffering pain.
She looked back to Tilden, her brows knitted together, concerned. "What has happened?" she asked him in a frightened voice.
Tilden's face was grave as he handed the note to her. "He read this."
"What..." She stood and leaned against the carriage and slowly read the note. "Oh no...." she said in a despairing whisper. Her eyes went hack to Tilden and she shook her head. "He believes Worthington? The man would lie to God himself if he thought it would profit him. How could Darian believe him?" Her voice sounded incredulous, unbelieving.
Tilden sighed and looked off into the distance where Darian had ridden. "He believes, once again, that he has been betrayed. Isabella's infidelity almost killed him. I fear what this will do to him."
"Oh Tilden, you must go and speak with him. I know Kristy. She would never betray him. She loves him!"
"I know that, my Sidra. I will do my best to reason with him, later. Now however we must wait till he returns. I hear he has ordered us to returned tonight. But once he rides awhile and clears his thoughts he will return and then we will make camp as planned. I don't think we have an attack to prepare for on this night, any longer," He dismounted and informed the men that they would wait for their earl to return.
**********************************************************
Worthingham Keep wasn't anything like Greystone. Instead of luxurious splendor, there was only bare, dark coldness. It was probably half the size of Greystone and the village outside the castle walls was poor and dilapidated, many houses badly in need of repair.
Kristy had, upon arrival, been taken to what Worthingham had deemed a 'dungeon'. But to her it looked more like the pit of the earth. It smelt vile and rats scuttled along the damp, stone floor. But the worst thing of all was that it was pitch black. Not one ray of light could be seen within the small cell.
Kristy sat in the far corner shivering not only from the cold, but also from fright. Her arms wrapped tightly around her knees and she buried her head into her soiled skirts.
It was an unbelievable nightmare. Nothing in all her life could have prepared her for what she was now having to face. She wanted to go home. She wanted to see her sister, go back to that nice comfortable apartment of hers. New York seemed like Disneyland compared to this place. She almost wished now that it had been a kidnapper that had taken her away. She might could deal with a twentieth century convict who only wanted her money, instead of a twelfth century mad man who could very well leave her down her in this dungeon to rot.
And the worst of it all, was that Darian probably wouldn't come for her. Not after he read that note of Worthingham's. She had felt ill when he had took great joy in telling her the *******s of his message to Greystone.
On her left side she felt something brush up against her thigh. Out of instinct she reach down to brush it away and met with something small and furry. A cry escaped her as she jerked her hand back and stood up. Tears began to run down her cheeks and she huddled deeper into the cold corner.
"Dear Lord, get me out of here, please!" she prayed through her sobs. Where was Jubal now, when she needed him the most? Surely he could not have lied to her. Surely he did not grant her wish only to have her die a horrid death at the hands of that monster Worthingham.
No matter what happens…believe… Jubal's words came to her once again. Believe. She must believe. She must! Be strong, Kristy! she urged herself. There would be no hope for her if she let herself fall apart.
An hour later the rusty hinges of the cell door creak open. Light flooded the gloomy darkness and while momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, Kristy could not make out the shadowy figure that entered the room.
"Who...who is it?'' she cried shakingly. Fear seemed to choke her throat as she wrapped her arms protectively about herself. She still stood, afraid to venture unto the floor again, not knowing what she could encounter down there.
A dark laugh came from the person who stood outlined in light in the doorway. He lit a candle that illuminated his dark features. And as her eye began to adjust she realized with mounting dread that the person was Worthingham, himself.
"Adjusting to your surroundings, my dear Christiana?" he taunted cruelly.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice filled with loathing.
He let his seedy gaze slowly rake her body. When they once again lifted he met her eyes, a strange glint burning within them. "What it I told you, that I wanted you?"
Though her face hardened, her lips curled with absolute contempt. "I'd kill myself before I'd let you have me," she assured him,
He laughed. "You shouldn't make promises you cannot keep, my dear." He walked over to her and gripped her face, rubbing a thumb roughly across her lips. He stared down at her as if he was contemplating something. Then he dropped his hand abruptly and took a step back. "Fortunately for you, however, you have been touched by Greystone. I want nothing that he has already used," he snarled and then turned his back arid walked back towards the door.
Kristy's shoulders slumped with relief. So he did not want her. She knew all hopes of reconciling with Darian would be lost if Worthingham decided to take her, He would never believe it would have been rape.
But as she saw him start walking out the door her spirit's plummeted once again. If he wasn't going to rape her, what was he going to do to her? Leave her down in the dungeon indefinitely?
She soon had her answer, however, when Worthingham turned and ordered her, "Come with me. But know this, Christiana, if you even think of trying to escape me. I'll put you right back in here. And the next time, you may never come out." he swore venomously.
She stood there gaping at him, not believing he what she was hearing.
"Come! Unless, of course, you wish to stay," he barked.
She jumped and wasted no more time.
************************************************************ *******
The forest about the campers was quiet. Only the sound of the occasional rustle of the leaves were heard around them. The cold wind pushed it's way through the denseness of the large trees. A small fir burned in the middle of the clearing, the wood that now glowed red cracked and sent a small rain of sparks flying in the darkness.
Darian, Sidra, Tilden and Vachel sat around it's warmness silent, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Each regretting that their plan had failed.
Still staring into the fire. Vachel spoke his thoughts aloud. "There is no doubt that we have traitor in our midst. One of the guard, possibly. There was no one else aware of our plan."
Darian threw a stick angrily into the fire and glared at the knight. "Why is there still a question in your mind. We know who our traitor is. There is no need to pretend otherwise."
Sidra looked at her brother, exasperated. "Darian do not be a fool. It is a trick!"
"Then how, dear sister, did he know of our plan? How did he know that Christiana took walks in the village every day? Can you tell me where she was every minute of the day?" His voice grew louder with each word.
"1 do not know the answer to your questions, brother, but I have no doubt that Kristy did not betray you. She loves you, you cannot forget how she is with you. She practically worships you!" Sidra tried to reason.
"My wife is very convincing at dramatics, I have come to learn." He stared in the fire, all emotion expertly hidden behind a mask of hardness. His voice was flat, devoid of the anguish that he actually felt. No one would know how she hurt him. No one would know that he had fallen in love with her and her betrayal was ripping him apart inside so much that he wished he could die. He ignored the overwhelming desire to mount his horse and go get her away from Worthingham. He ignored the part of him that wanted to believe that the note was a lie and that his wife had indeed been an innocent pawn in Worthingham's scheme. He ignored the voice that spoke from his heart that his wife still loved him.
He ignored all these things because the face of his first wife kept looming before him. Her betrayal kept prodding his mind. Women could not be trusted. None of them. Christiana was no different.
Tears filled Sidra eyes as she saw the callous determination set on her brother's features. Helplessness gripped her heart. "You are not going to go and get her, are you?" she whispered, her eyes searching his.
He locked eyes with her briefly then looked back down. "No."
She leaped up and went over to him, grabbing him by the arm. "Please, Darian. Think for one moment that maybe this has all been a trick. Darian, my Lord, he could kill her."
Her brother answered in stony silence to her plea and Tilden came over and squatted beside Sidra putting a comforting arm about her. "Darian listen to what she is saying. She is still your wife, man!"
His jaw tightened and his eyes closed a moment. A clear struggle was warring between his heart and mind. But he had been hardened too long. Too many hurts now scarred his heart. The pain was too fresh, too familiar.
His eyes opened and without looked at them he spoke to them in such a way that ended all further pleas, "I no longer have a wife."