Chapter 5
As the rain increased, Tyrell moved to stand under the eaves of the stable. Lia followed him. One moment, dragged on after another as they waited for Tavia to make her appearance.
“They must be hurrying back,” Lia commented. “I can’t imagine they want to get caught in this rain.”
As if she had spoken a prophecy, a long line of riders appeared on the hilltop, galloping toward them, talking and laughing as they clutched their hoods to keep them from blowing off.
A herd of servants rushed out of the stables to greet them, helping each noble dismount and bringing their horses into the warmth of the barn as quickly as they could.
Lia rushed out with the crowd. Tyrell watched her as she looked widely around for Princess Tavia’s palomino mare.
Her movements became increasingly frantic as she realized neither princess nor horse were anywhere among the throng.
Tyrell noticed that someone else was missing also—his brine-faced sea-leech of a rival—Captain Julian.
Then, Tyrell spotted a familiar nose sticking out from the recesses of a crimson cloak. That nose he would recognize anywhere.
“Lane!” he called.
Lane was racing into the stables to escape the monsoon. “She’s not here, Tyr!” he yelled over his shoulder.
Tyrell raced after him, catching him just as he made it under the eaves of the stable.“What do you mean, she’s not here?” he demanded.
Lane scowled at him. “I don’t know, do I look like her nanny? She rode off somewhere with the Captain!”
The color drained from Tyrell’s face.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Tyr,” Lane frowned, drawing his soaking cloak more tightly around his shoulders. “The man’s already had seven fiancees. It’s not like anything is going to come of it.”
“Where did they go?” Tyrell breathed.
“You going to fight him?” Lane asked, a sparkle of interest lighting up his eyes.
“Where did they go?” Tyrell repeated.
“East, toward the cliffs,” Lane shrugged. “That’s all I know.”
A thousand images of Tavia being thrown into the sea passed across Tyrell’s mind. Without a word, he snatched the reins of Lane’s horse from the hands of a passing stableboy.
“Why of course, you can borrow Copper,” Lane stated flatly.
But Tyrell barely heard him, he had already swung upward into the saddle and was urging the horse back outside. He spotted Lia having a frantic conversation with one of the young noblewomen.
Riding up beside her, he extended a hand.
Understanding dawned in her eyes, without a word she accepted and swung up into the saddle in front of him. Then, they both shot forward into the storm.
Tyrell was soaked to the bone mere moments later, he leaned forward hoping to shield Lia from the rain, but nothing worked. It seemed like it was coming from every direction. They kept riding in the direction of the southern coast.
“They must have gone to the light house,” Lia called over the wind. “It’s the only shelter near those cliffs.
She was right, they couldn’t possibly have intended to stay outside in this, right?
A short while later, poor Copper was cold and shivering when they dismounted under the tiny eve that covered the lighthouse entrance.
Tyrell led the animal just inside the door. “If this horse gets sick, Lane is going to kill me,” he breathed.
He wished he had a dry blanket to cover the poor animal, but a quick glance around the small stone interior showed him no such luxuries. The keeper’s house was detached and the tower itself consisted only of a tall stack of dry wood and stairs that spiraled up endlessly above them.
“Hush,” Lia whispered, putting a finger to her lip. “I hear someone up there.”
She started up the stairs, motioning for Tyrell to follow. When he noticed her gripping a little knife in her hand, he tapped her shoulder and motioned for her to let him pass.
He wasn’t about to let a lady march before him into danger. Unconsciously, he gripped the hilt of his sword. He also wasn’t about to lead her into battle undefended.
Around and around they went, Tyrell wondering how in the world Lia had been able to hear a human voice above the roaring wind. But, as they approached the hatch that opened out onto the top of the tower, he could also make it out.
It was definitely Tavia’s voice, though he had no idea what she was saying.
He raised a hand and pushed the hatch open just enough to peer out.
He could see the firebasket in the middle of the room.
A small roof held aloft by pillars kept rain from landing directly on the flames but was not sufficient to keep the storm from blowing in sideways.
It was entirely miserable and the worst place he could imagine for wooing a lady.
The only reason he could think to bring a lady all the way up here to talk in the middle of a raging storm was if one intended to hurl her down onto the rocks below.
Not wanting to lose the advantage of surprise, Tyrell glanced around carefully, until he spotted the hem of Tavia’s dress out of the corner of his eye. Satisfied that they were distracted off to his left, he carefully pulled himself up before diving behind one of the pillars.
Lia popped up just behind and darted to his hiding place.
The pillar was not quite large enough to cover them both, and she stood very close to him to hide as well as she could.
They glanced around either side of their pillar to see Tavia, standing before Julian, gaze locked with his. The rage in Tyrell’s heart burned stronger when he got a good look at them.
His princess was completely soaked through, her beautiful golden updo deteriorated into a mess of loose, clinging locks. The rain was pounding against the delicate skin of her face and neck so hard, he marveled that she didn’t erupt in bruises.
Yet, she was smiling at the Captain, her eyes dreamy, completely oblivious to the frigid air.
“We did it Julian,” she breathed. “The flame is rekindled.”
The captain stared out over the roaring sea. “Not fast enough,” he growled. “We could have lost a thousand ships.”
“But we didn’t,” Tavia insisted.
He turned on her, eyes dark and wild as the storm that raged around him. “Do you know that, princess?”
“Scoundrel,” Tyrell whispered. “How dare he keep her out here in the cold like this!”
“While I would love to blame that on him, this was definitely her idea,” Lia whispered back.
In response to his questioning glance, Lia added. “She’s always wanted to kiss a man in the rain.”
“Really?” Tyrell whispered. “Why?”
Lia rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and shrugged.
“Well he wouldn’t dare,” Tyrell added, gripping his sword hilt, he started to draw the blade from its scabbard.
Lia caught his wrist, stopping the motion.
“Don’t be stupid,” she warned. “Wait until he tries something.”
Tyrell took a deep breath to calm himself and turned his gaze back to the couple. Lia was right. He could not just attack Julian unprompted without ending up in a dungeon someplace. As much as it killed him, he had to let Julian make the first move.
“I know it, Julian,” Tavia was saying. “Stop fretting. Our ships are safe!”
“You only say that because you are innocent,” he replied, gripping her hands in his fists. Tyrell was trembling as he used all available willpower to hold himself back. It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough . . .
“Your precious hands have never borne the weight of life and death,” Julian explained.
Lia and Tyrell glanced at each other. For his part, Tyrell was imagining Julian’s hands choking the life out of maidens one through seven. Based on Lia’s expression, she must have been imagining something similar.
“You . . . always think the best of men, don’t you?” Julian growled. “Even . . . men like me.”
“Why shouldn’t I think the best of you, Julian?” Tavia whispered.
In response, Julian gripped her shoulders in clawlike hands and jerked her forward, drawing her face toward his.
Tyrell couldn’t stand it any longer. Before their lips touched, he leapt forth from his hiding place crying out, “Away from her, Julian!”