Chapter Three #3
He just stared at her. Then he sighed heavily. “You are correct,” he muttered. “It is not the truth. Do you really want to know why we are here?”
She gazed up at him, the pale moonlight emphasizing her ashen pallor. “Tell me.”
He met her gaze, his blue-green eyes luminescent in the gray light.
“Because earlier today I saw the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said quietly.
“I came to Erith because I wanted to bask in her presence. I came because of you, my lady, and for no other reason than that. I wanted more than just a fleeting glimpse of you.”
Gray stared at him. The swimming in her head was easing, but now her heart was coming to thump strangely.
“Me?”
“You.”
She was momentarily stumped. Could it be another untruth? Was he simply trying to divert her from the reality? Looking into his handsome face, she couldn’t imagine that he was insincere. But the internal struggle was tremendous.
“How do I know this is not a lie?” she hated sounding so fearful. “How do I know that you are not plotting to gain my fortress even as we speak?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I gave you my vow as a knight, my lady. I suppose only time will tell if I was honest or not. When my men and I leave your fortress tomorrow in far better repair than we found it, then perhaps you will trust me, just a little.”
She was gradually aware that his grip on her hand had eased and his fingers caressed her flesh gently. The touch was sending jolts of excitement up her arm. “I… I do not know,” she spluttered.
His gaze was steady on her, as if trying to read what she was thinking. He finally shook his head. “Who has done such terrible things to you that you would be so suspicious?”
Gray averted her gaze, trying to pull her hand away, but he held her fast. “Nay, my lady, I’ll not let you run away.
Not this time. I have come to this forsaken place to slake my curiosity of you and I will not leave until I have done so.
Who has so horribly mistreated you that you would be so defensive?
Tell me his name so that I may seek him out and champion you. ”
Her eyes riveted back to him again, wide with surprise. She yanked her hand hard, finally pulling free of his grip. But she was still on her buttocks and a quick getaway was unlikely.
“You know not what you ask,” she said quietly.
“You are correct; I do not know. But I would ask just the same.”
“Why?”
“I told you why.”
Frustration blossomed. “Do not toy with me, my lord. If you only think to amuse yourself with my misery, then you may look elsewhere for entertainment. I shall not respond to your attempts to probe me. My life is my own and I do not know you. I will be glad to have you on your way tomorrow if only to be left in peace.”
She probably meant it, too. “I am not a clever man, my lady,” he did not rise to her irritation. “I have never, nor would I ever, toy with a woman. I have not the patience. What I tell you is the truth. I saw a beautiful lady today and simply wished to know her.”
She did not reply. He finally stood up, towering over her as she sat at his feet.
Without another word, he turned and descended the stairs along the wall, crossing the dark bailey for the warmth of the keep.
Though his body had left her, his mind had not.
It was still upon the wall walk, wondering why such a beautiful woman was so embittered and mistrustful.
If she did not believe him by now, she never would.
He realized he felt a good deal of disappointment about it.
He was just mounting the steps to the keep when movement caught his attention.
Glancing over, he could see Gray descending the stairs, clutching the stone walls as she lowered herself one step at a time.
She was struggling, that much was clear.
She seemed to be particularly weak and not simply because he had startled her by ripping a sword out of her hand.
He paused half way up the stairs, watching her labor with every stair.
He couldn’t just leave her. Slowly, he retraced his steps.
He met her at the bottom of the wall stairs.
Gray looked at him, all of the fight gone out of her.
Braxton stood there a moment, gazing back at her.
He was still trying to figure her out, though he did not completely understand why.
He’d never had a woman intrigue him so. Silently, he reached out and scooped her into his arms. She looked as if she couldn’t walk another step.
Surprisingly, she did not protest. Her arms went around his neck and he could feel her hot breath on his jaw. He knew she was watching him. He was almost to the steps that led back into the keep when he felt her head, soft and sweet, lay down against his shoulder.
“Would… would you mind if we sat by your fire, my lord?” she asked softly.
He paused at the base of the steps and turned around, facing the south wall where three small fires blazed. “Those?”
“Aye.”
“Why would you want to sit there when there is a warm hall at the top of these stairs?”
Her head came up, the amber eyes fixed on him. “Because it is full of people. You have asked fair questions, my lord. I would give you answers, but not for all to hear. I… I thought we could speak privately if, indeed, you still seek answers to your questions.”
He didn’t argue. In fact, his pace picked up as he went over to the first of the three small blazes. He set her on her feet and she weaved dangerously. He reached out to steady her.
“Are you feeling ill?”
She waved him off weakly. “I shall be all right.”
“When did you eat last?”
Her head snapped in his direction and he could see the shame in her eyes. “Yesterday,” she lied. “I had a large meal. I simply haven’t been hungry until now.”
He didn’t want to dispute her, but Brooke’s hint of how her mother went without food because there was not enough to go around rang loudly in his mind. He pulled out the nearest bedroll and put it on the ground under her.
“Sit,” he ordered quietly. “I shall go and retrieve your meal.”
“Nay, please…”
He was insistent. “I have not yet eaten myself. Sit there and I shall return.”
Gray was too weak to argue. She watched him cross the bailey, noting the confidence and power to his stride.
He took the steps two at a time and disappeared into the keep.
She began to relax, watching the flames as they danced before her.
It was hypnotic, easing the strain on her mind.
Before she realized it, Braxton was back, a hefty trencher in each hand, a wooden pitcher of the cheap wine hooked into a finger, and wooden cups under both arms.
Gray took the pitcher from him and both cups as he sat beside her. Neither one of them spoke as she poured the wine and accepted her trencher from him. As the fire blazed soothingly into the dark Cumbrian sky, Gray delved into the first real meal she had eaten in days.
Braxton ate silently beside her, watching her from the corner of his eye.
He could see that she was famished, stuffing her mouth so full that she could barely chew.
The action touched him deeply. Like her daughter, she was starving.
There simply wasn’t enough for everyone and Gray suffered so that others would not starve.
He doubted the grandmother felt the same pangs.
He suspected the old woman took what she wanted without regard for anyone else. She looked like the type.
“You were going to answer my questions,” he reminded her casually.
Gray swallowed the bite in her mouth, chasing it with a long drink of the bitter wine. “Which question would you have answered?”
His blue-green eyes fixed on her. “Why are you so mistrustful of my actions?”
She met his eyes; the urge to shy away was overwhelming.
“I… I really don’t know. Perhaps it is because no man has ever been particularly truthful to me.
Not my husband or my father.” She lifted a hand to suggest he look at their surroundings.
“Erith is all I have. I am a lone woman with no army. I must protect myself and my family. It was stupid of me to allow you and your army inside these walls.”
“Yet you did. Do you believe me now when I tell you I have no intention of stealing your fortress?”
She shrugged. “I suppose I must.”
“I could take Erith at any time and you’d not be able to stop me. You might as well trust me, for you have little choice.”
Her silence confirmed what she already knew. Braxton watched her as she averted her focus and looked back to her food.
“What happened to your husband?” he asked, somewhat gently, somewhat seriously.
She picked up another bit of venison and put it to her lips, chewing slowly as she spoke. “He is dead.”
“So I was told. But what happened to him?”
Gray couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She didn’t know why she was about to tell him, but she was. “He was murdered,” she whispered. “Over a gambling debt.”
“I see.” He drew in a long breath, gazing up at the stars overhead. “Has he been gone long?”
“Four years.”
He looked back at her. “And you have not considered remarrying?”
She met his gaze, then. “Who would have me, my lord?” The strength was returning to her voice. “I have nothing to offer but a broken fortress. No man of standing or decency would want to marry a woman with nothing to offer but poverty.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You underestimate your worth, madam.”
She stared at him a long moment before shoving her trencher to the ground and rising on unsteady legs. She had barely turned to walk away before he was up and standing in front of her. She tried to move around him but he blocked her.
“What have I said to make you run away from me again?” he demanded quietly.
Irritated, frustrated, she tried to push through him but he would not budge. She threw both hands out as if to shove him out of the way, but it was like shoving a wall. He was immovable. He grasped her arms and held her fast.