Chapter Eleven #3
Brooke sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Aye, Mama.”
Gray found a stool next to Geoff and sat heavily. “Sit down and I’ll hear nothing more from you. We will wait for Braxton to return.”
Brooke sat down on the ground next to Edgar. When Gray turned her attention to Geoff to inspect his wound, Edgar stuck his tongue out at Brooke. She pinched him.
*
Braxton briefly inspected the worn bay charger as he thundered into camp. Someone had tethered the animal to a tree. Dallas was ahead of him and had already dismounted, lifting up a hoof to inspect the shoes. As Braxton passed by, he nodded to his liege.
“‘Tis the same shoe markings, my lord,” he told him.
Braxton didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on the weary beast. Having been located by one of his soldiers a quarter hour earlier, he had raced like a madman to get back to camp.
The lady was back and was apparently unharmed.
That was all he could focus on as he dismounted his charger and stormed into the larger tent.
His eyes struggled to acclimate themselves to the weak light.
To his right were Brooke and Edgar, sitting on the ground and apparently playing some sort of game between them.
He could see sticks laid out in patterns.
Looking around, he spied Gray kneeling over Geoff, her lovely face tense in concentration.
She must have heard him, or at least sensed him, because she looked up and their eyes met.
She bolted to her feet and they came together somewhere at midpoint in the tent.
Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
Braxton held her so tightly that he was certain he was squeezing the life from her.
It was the most amazing, satisfying embrace of his life.
Given the horror of the past hour, he could hardly believe she was actually in his arms.
“Sweetheart,” he breathed. “What happened?”
She was weeping quietly, trying not to disturb the children too much.
They were already watching the reunion with big eyes and she had refrained from showing any emotion in front of them up until this point.
She hadn’t wanted to frighten them any more than they already were.
But the sight of Braxton was enough to dissolve her.
“Are you all right?” she answered his question with a question. “You were hit so very hard and…”
Her hand was moving to the back of his head and he stopped her, taking her hand and kissing it reverently. “I am well enough,” he told her. “But what happened? Who took you?”
She wiped at her tears. “De Aughton. He hit you over the head and carried me off.”
Braxton didn’t know why the news did not surprise him. In fact, he had almost expected to hear that although he was unsure why. All he knew was that he remembered how the man had looked at her the night before. He knew that hungry look.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked softly.
“Nay. But I had to gouge his eyes out to get away.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “You gouged his eyes out?”
She nodded. “I do not know where he was taking me, for he never said much at all. We fought for such a long time, Braxton, I cannot even fathom how long. It seemed like days. I relaxed and let him believe that I had given up, but I hadn’t.
He relaxed, too. When he did, I shoved my fingers into his eyes so hard that he fell right off his charger. ”
Braxton listened to her with complete, utter amazement. “My God,” he breathed. “And then you stole his horse?”
She nodded. “I had to make it back to you. Oh, Braxton, I was so frightened.”
“But you are sure you are unharmed?”
“Aye.”
He pulled her into his arms again, kissing her forehead, her temple, whispering thanks to God that she was in one piece.
She was safe and well, and he allowed those feelings to be his overriding thoughts for the moment.
Were he to allow himself to linger on de Aughton, he could very well explode the anger he was trying so hard to bank.
Beyond the relief, beyond the thanks, there was something inside him demanding satisfaction.
He could not help it. Niclas de Aughton had made a bold attempt at taking something that belonged to another.
Men these days were less likely to do such things as had been the norm in ages past, but it did happen on occasion.
Had de Aughton gotten her to a priest to marry her, she would have legally belonged to him and there wouldn’t have been anything Braxton could have done about it.
Except kill him, which he would have done without question.
He could not have the constant threat of de Aughton hanging over his head. He wanted to find the man and punish him.
“Where did you leave him?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t hear the menace in his voice.
Her face was buried in his neck, burrowing, seeking comfort. “I am not exactly sure. To the west of Milnthorpe, along the main road. I traveled that road for quite some time before coming to Milnthorpe. Then I recognized the town and remembered where you had set up camp.”
He snorted softly. “So you took the main road back here?”
“Aye.”
He shook his head at the irony. “So that’s why I missed you. My men and I set off to find you along every path and trail but the main road. We assumed that whoever took you would not stay to the main highway.”
She pulled her face from his neck, looking up at him.
“And he did not. He went through trees and fields, and I truthfully have no idea how we ended up where we did. But I just stayed to the road because I did not know what else to do. I figured that if I kept heading east, I would eventually run into a town. I was just fortunate that it was Milnthorpe.”
He cupped her face in his big hands, smiling gently at her. He kissed her nose, her lips, listening to Brooke giggle off to his right. He turned around and looked at the girl.
“What’s so funny?” he demanded lightly.
Brooke grinned, looking a good deal like her mother as she did. “You kiss my mother the way I have seen women kiss their children.”
“Is that so?” he asked. “And how is that?”
Brooke wrinkled her nose. “Little baby pecks. Like you are trying to kiss her to death.”
Braxton glanced at Gray and they exchanged grins.
He dropped his hands from her and faced Brooke.
“I am simply glad to have her back safely, as you should be.” When the girl nodded her head, he turned for the tent flap.
“Now, I have some things to attend to. Edgar, keep tight watch over the ladies.”
The young lad nodded sharply. With a lingering glance at Gray, who had settled herself back at Geoff’s side, Braxton exited the tent and found Dallas standing over by the massive fire.
The men huddled together. Now that Dallas was to marry Brooke, their relationship had somehow deepened. There was a kinship forming that did not exist before. Now, they were to become family and Braxton was more comforted, more pleased, than he realized. Dallas would be a fine son-in-law.
“It was de Aughton,” he told his knight in a low voice.
“Gray said she left him to the west of Milnthorpe somewhere along the road. Since she took his horse, he would have to travel on foot but, I would suspect, his inclination is not to travel back to Milnthorpe. He has to know she would return to me and I would come looking for him.”
Dallas nodded. They were joined by Graehm, having just come from inspecting Niclas’s big bay charger. “Arnside is a town around five miles to the east of Milnthorpe,” Dallas said. “He could have gone there instead.”
“Or to any number of little villages to the south,” Braxton countered.
“Organize the men into groups of four. Send a group to Arnside, Milnthorpe, and have the rest spread out over the countryside. Leave no stone unturned. I would have them report back to me by late tomorrow, whether or not they find anything. But tell them a bounty will be given to the men that find him. I want this man located and brought back to me.”
Dallas nodded smartly and was gone. Braxton watched him march across the dim encampment, fading into the shadows. He turned to Graehm.
“You will find me a priest,” his voice was quiet. “Bring the man here posthaste and pay him well for his trouble.”
Graehm blanched. “Is Geoff…?”
Braxton cut him off. “No, not for last rites. For a marriage. Actually, two.”
Graehm’s eyebrows lifted slightly but he obeyed, disappearing into the darkness to collect his charger. With his men on the move, Braxton went back to the tent and stuck his head in through the door.
“Gray,” he called softly. “A word, please.”
She rose from her position next to Geoff and obediently went to him. He pulled her gently outside, under the blanket of stars that spread across the sky. It was a lovely night in spite of everything that had gone on. He crossed his big arms, facing her as the firelight flickered off his features.
“Surely you understand that with de Aughton’s threat, the event of marriage is even more important than ever,” he said quietly. “I have sent Graehm to find a priest. Before this night is out, your daughter will be married to Dallas and you shall be married to me.”
There was no longer any hesitation or reluctance in Gray’s expression. She had learned to trust Braxton completely. “Then I must tell my daughter she is to be a bride,” she said softly.
He nodded. “Would you like for me to tell her?”
Gray shook her head. “Thank you, but no. This is something I must do.”
He gave her a wink, a supportive gesture, and followed her back into the tent. While he took up station next to Geoff, Gray took Brooke out into the night to tell her of her future. He was not surprised, moments later, to hear the young girl weep.