Chapter 24
Without hesitation, Kallen began to describe his aura.
“You are a mix like no other I’ve seen. Most people signal one color, or rather varying shades of a single color.
Every now and then, I find a person with two dominant colors, traits that are of equal weight in their personalities.
From the beginning you have been a rainbow of colors.
I knew, in your own way, you were different as I was. ”
Griffith’s fingers gently caressed her cheek. “Go on,” he said. “Describe the colors.”
“You have many. The blues about you have faded in recent days, which means your sadness has faded as well. The shades left show you are trustworthy and honest. There are streaks of brown, which shows you are dependable, while yellow ones reveal you are idealistic but tempered with great intellect. Purple usually dominates the rings surrounding you, and this is one of the strongest of all colors. It states you are confident and aggressive, athletic and a true leader.”
Kallen paused. “But now about you I see a red like no other.” She blushed. “’Twas present that first time you kissed me on Saint Crispin’s Day.”
Griffith’s fingers brushed along her jaw. “And what is this red?”
“I can only guess ‘tis the red of passion. Of desire. I see it burning brightly in the night. I feel your tremendous heat. It wishes to suck me in and—”
He cut off her words with a kiss that made her belly flutter and her knees go weak.
“Not only passion, my lady. ‘Tis much more.” Griffith cupped her face with his hand. “I want you, yes. But I need you even more. I love you, Kallen. You and no other.”
She whispered, “I love you, too.”
This time his kiss was tender and full of promise. Oh, sweet heavens, how she wanted this man. She couldn’t fool her heart. There could be no other for her than Griffith Sommersby.
“How... we must... can this be explained to Crispin? He’s so committed—”
“I shall approach Harold first. We have known each other for many years. He’ll see reason. He must.”
He kissed her again gently. “We have tarried far too long. I shall go in first since you are glowing pink, and your swollen lips reveal our love play. Stay outside a minute, or all in the great hall will guess what we’ve been at.”
Griffith linked his hands with hers. “I shall find Harold and take him aside when I return. I won’t spare another moment thinking of being apart.”
He whispered in her ear again of his love before he departed. Kallen felt on fire despite the November night’s cold air. She wrapped her arms about her, a smile growing.
“He loves me,” she said to the night. “Griffith truly loves me.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She turned to go but saw a shadow of color ascending at a brisk pace from the bottom of the stairs. The aura she saw confused her.
“Oh, good eve, my lady, and welcome to Mangeron. ‘Tis Maitland from the stables. I hope I didn’t startle you. I must see Lord de Mangeron. The mare you rode is feeling poorly. Nothing I do satisfies her.”
“Carrie ails? What’s wrong with her?”
The groom shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. Usually, I’m good with the horses, but this mare moans for no reason. The earl is an expert when it comes to horseflesh. He’ll want to see the filly himself. I must fetch him.” He gave a short bow to excuse himself.
“Then go. He’s in the great hall. I think I shall go down and see Carrie myself.”
“She’ll like that, that she would. Stables be that way. You can’t miss them.” Maitland nodded and entered the door.
Kallen started off at a brisk pace toward the stables. The noise from the great hall began to fade. She hoped she headed in the right direction. The night was very dark, and she wished she had a torch to better light the way.
She reached the stables, grateful for Maitland pointing her the correct way. All was quiet except for the occasional snort. Kallen called out as she entered.
“Carrie? Carrie? What stall are you in?” She caught a glimpse in her mind of the mare munching happily on hay. Her horse was neither ill nor distressed.
Suddenly, a chill enveloped Kallen that had nothing to do with the night. Something was terribly wrong.
Suddenly, a blinding pain exploded in her head. Stars swirled in an array of colors before all faded to black.
A wave of nausea struck Kallen, disorienting her. What happened?
She became aware of the night sounds about her. An owl hooted. The cold breeze. The stillness of the forest. She lay on her side, cool dew against her face.
Voices!
She couldn’t sit up yet, but she could listen. She opened her eyes a slit. Her vision blurred. Her head throbbed, but she made out two auras glowing nearby. She recognized the voice of one. Maitland? Had that been the groom’s name?
But who belonged to the deeper voice she heard?
“I don’t owe Lord Nowland anything else.”
“Do as you’re told, boy. We all do. How do you think Lord de Mangeron would react knowing you kidnapped his niece on her first day back?”
The Earl’s people.
“If ‘tis ransom he seeks, he’ll get it, whether ‘tis gold or stock. Lord de Mangeron will pay. Just leave me out of this. ‘Twas hard enough sneaking her out the sally port. I could be at the feast now, dancing with my Celia.”
A harsh laugh. “You’ll dance to the earl’s tune or hang. Now leave. Speak of this to no one.”
Kallen knew no ransom was intended. It disheartened her one of Crispin’s servants succumbed to the earl’s bribes, especially one so tender in years. Maitland had appeared younger that she.
Escape. She must try. But it was hard to think clearly when her head ached so. Kallen pushed herself to a sitting position. Before she had a chance to try and stand, a man grabbed her hands and began to wind rope around her wrists. She gasped and started to struggle.
“Ah, you’re awake, my lady.” He rubbed her head, and she flinched. “‘Tis a big knot you have. One which will be sore for a few days. You must feel very bad.”
He moved away a moment and returned. Kallen’s vision began to clear as she focused on him.
“Here. Take a sip of ale.” He held her chin gently and gave her a drink. The brew was cold and tasted good, and she drank deeply.
“Have another. It will help you.” The man patted her shoulder. “Relax now. I won’t hurt you. Just sleep. ‘Tis cold now, but you’ll be warm soon enough.”
His voice soothed her. Kallen began to feel drowsy. Too late she realized the drink must be drugged.
Griffith located Harold immediately and went to join him. He managed to run off the two men conversing with the earl with a calculated look.
Harold laughed as the men scrambled to the other side of the room. “You’re looking well, Griffith.”
He examined Harold carefully. “You could be better.”
Harold shrugged. “I’ve learned when in public to be affable and charming, especially when visiting an important place such as Mangeron. At least I combed my hair before I came to visit tonight, my friend. ‘Tis hard to take an interest in my appearance when I have no interest in anything else.”
Griffith gripped Harold’s shoulder. “You have a son, man. What better interest could there be?”
Harold struggled to speak. “Without my wife…” His voice trailed off, and a sob choked Harold. He turned his back on Griffith and the room.
Griffith lay his hand on Harold’s shoulder again. “Harold, listen to me. She lives—through your child. Your son may be your wife made over. Enjoy what you have, not what you’ve lost.”
He took a deep breath as Harold’s gaze met his. “You know of my pain these past years, Harold. I lost not only Carina but the son she carried all those months. The son that would one day rule Sommersby.”
Griffith wiped a falling tear from his cheek.
“You have an opportunity that was taken from me.
You still have your boy. You can tickle his toes and teach him to sit a horse.
You can be there to watch his first steps and hear his first words.
One day you will teach him to hunt and shoot.
You can sing him to sleep as you rock him in your arms and watch every breath as he lies there peacefully, content to know his father cradles him. "
He swallowed hard. “Do not let sadness overwhelm you, Harold. ‘Twould be a crime to let your son’s childhood pass by and not share in it, only to awaken one day and find him a grown man and a stranger to you. Please, my friend. Waste not what God has seen fit to bless you with.”
An odd look came over Harold’s face. “Your words make sense, Griffith.” He stood taller. “No one has ever put it that way. ‘Tis good advice I will take to heart.”
“I have yet more to say.” Griffith looked steadily into Harold’s eyes. “I know of the wedding contracts drawn up by you and Crispin. Of his promise to give Kallen to you.”
The surprise showed on Harold’s face. “But how?” He expelled a long breath. “I suppose you would, as close as you and Crispin are. You always were. Yet even Deva does not know of them yet.”
Harold smiled. “Kallen seems a sweet girl, very pleasant. She will surely nurture my son and still be close to Mangeron. ‘Tis an arrangement that should please us all. I know we will suit. I came tonight not only to meet my future wife but sign the betrothal contracts.”
His Kallen sweet and pleasant? Oh, she was so much more. Griffith thought of the hot kisses they’d shared, her body responding to his. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow her to marry Harold.
“You are a good man, Harold, but I must tell you that I have feelings for Kallen.”
The nobleman studied him a long moment.
Griffith filled the silence between them. “I did not mean for this to happen. I have not even looked at another woman since Carina passed. Yet,” he paused, a smile coming to his face, “there is something about Kallen that draws me from my blackest mood. Something that makes me want to live again.”
Harold sighed. “You love this woman?”
Griffith nodded. “That I do, my friend.”
Harold slapped him on the back. “Well, good for you, Griffith. I know you have suffered. If Lady Kallen has brought the happiness I’ve seen in your step, so be it.”
Harold leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “Mother has run the household since... since my wife passed. She can continue to do so. I have no immediate need for a wife yet.” He placed a hand on Griffith’s shoulder.
“I shall do as you said and get to know my son first. Besides, by the determined look on your face, you’d as soon kidnap Lady Kallen before a wedding could take place. ”
Both men laughed. The immense burden weighing Griffith down vanished.
“I shall tell Crispin tonight of my wishes to cancel the marriage contracts. Since they’ve yet to be signed, it should not be a problem.” Harold grinned at him. “You have found a wife for your own. You may be asked to locate one for me in the near future, though.”
He clasped his hand around Harold’s. “I owe you, friend. I will never forget your generosity in stepping aside.”
Harold smiled. “’Tis good to have one of your character in my debt, Griffith Sommersby.” He excused himself, and Griffith saw he headed in Crispin’s direction.
Griffith turned and searched the room for Kallen. He couldn’t wait to tell her of Harold’s decision.