Chapter 5
“ I will urge you, one last time. Do not go.”
The earl sat behind his wooden desk in the solar chamber that had served generations of earls of Ellsworth. According to legend, one of the first wood craftsmen to inhabit Crimson Hollow fashioned it for his friend, a man who’d just become the first Earl of Ellswood. The two had fought side by side during William the Conqueror’s campaign to secure the English throne, their unlikely bond forged on the bloodied fields of Hastings.
“I will not abandon them,” he repeated, not for the first time that day.
His father sighed. “Why leave at such an hour?”
Darien had grappled with whether or not to tell his father the real reason. In the end, he’d decided against it. Darien could not take the chance his father might warn the seer of their plans.
“I cannot delay. The king has besieged Wallingford Castle. Robert of Gloucester holds out now, but Matilda’s support has begun to weaken. The Guardians of the Sacred Oak are likely preparing to aid him.”
“All reasons to stay, and not go.”
Darien stood. He’d told Liana to be prepared to leave after sunset, and he did not wish for her to remain hiding in the woods for longer than was necessary. If she was discovered, it would take an order from his father to allow the maid to travel with him—one he was not likely to give.
“There is naught more to say on the matter, Father. You do not agree with the path I forge?—”
“Ignoring the Fletcher women will not bode well for us.”
“I do not intend to ignore them, Father. But to temper their advice with my own free will.”
That was the wrong thing to say. “I have not been held captive by their visions, but respect their service to our family.”
“I meant no offense. Under your guidance, the Isle of Ely has thrived. It would be an honor if I might serve it as well, someday. But I must follow my own path and not yours.”
“You have a smooth tongue, son.”
Darien smiled. “I had a fine teacher.”
When he stood, Darien went to him. Ignoring the shiver that went up his spine at their embrace, he shrugged off any thoughts that it might be their last. He would return, and with luck, Darien would do so under the reign of a new leader. One who brought their country peace and prosperity rather than weakness and instability.
“Fare thee well, son.”
Though they pulled apart, Darien did not step away. Instead he looked into the eyes that were a reflection of his own, strength and kindness mingling there, and said the words so rarely spoken between them.
“I love you, Father. No man has served as a better example for their son in all of England. I will make you proud. You’ve my solemn vow on it.”
Surely he was mistaken that the wetness in his father’s eyes was tears. The Earl of Ellswood did not cry. At least, he’d never done so in Darien’s presence.
“You do so already, my son. Your mother taught me love, and I am grateful for it. Too many men fear such a sentiment.”
It was his way of saying, “I love you too.”
With nothing more to say, and Liana awaiting him, Darien bowed, more deeply than was his custom, turned and walked away, grateful his father had allowed him the only decision he could make. To return to Castle Blackwood and continue the fight for England’s rightful ruler.
She wasn’t coming.
Darien did not blame her. After he’d left, it had occurred to him how much he’d asked from her. To leave her home and put herself in not only a compromising position but a potentially dangerous one too.
If her vision crystalized, it could have helped their cause. But staying was probably for the best, especially given the intense attraction he’d felt toward her. Aeliana—Liana, he corrected himself—had been a pretty girl. He’d not use that word now to describe her, though.
Extraordinarily beautiful. Mesmerizing. Ethereal. But not pretty. It was too common a word for a clearly uncommon woman.
Darien turned from the spot they’d met last eve and headed back toward the castle, where he would fetch his mount and take the lone road out of Crimson Hollow toward Blackwood Castle. When a tree branch snapped behind him, he immediately reached for the hilt of his sword and spun around.
“I thought perhaps I’d missed you,” Liana called, running up to him. Though there were no people nor buildings nearby, he put his finger to his lips.
“Sorry,” she whispered, out of breath, catching him. “I am unpracticed at subversion. Well, unless you count sneaking off to the market.”
Why would a woman of Liana’s age find it necessary to sneak off to the market? He’d have asked, but she continued.
“I tried to tell Mother my head was in pain, and that I wished to go to bed early, but she insisted on making a potion for me.”
The village knew Nimue only as a healer. Darien and his father knew otherwise.
“I am glad you were able to get away.” Still, he did not move. Not yet. “Are you certain of this, Liana? I ask much of you. There was a part of me that was glad you did not join me.”
“I am certain.”
Her voice did not waver. Cloaked, carrying a small saddle bag which Darien took, she wore a robustness in her expression that further impressed him.
And God, she was beautiful. Her cheeks and nose already pink with the chill of the coming winter. Her hair pulled back completely in a braid, tucked inside the fur-lined cloak. How was this woman not already married?
“I have a mount ready,” he said, walking away from her cottage in the distance. Liana did not look back, even once.
“Did the stablemaster not ask who the additional mount was for?”
“He did not.”
Her confused expression reminded Darien of the differences in their stations. “He would not question me, and in this situation, I took advantage of the fact, revealing no more than necessary.”
“Oh.”
These past years, he’d been away from home so often—at Castle Blackwood and, before that, fighting with Matilda’s men—that Darien sometimes forgot he was an earl’s son. For England, he was a warrior. No more, no less.
Here, as his father liked to remind him, he was the future ruler.
“We will be traveling together for a sennight. And there is no telling how long we will be at Castle Blackwood. From this moment forward, I am Darien to you. No more than that.”
She actually chuckled. A heartier sound than he’d expect from her, but one he liked immensely.
“You do not believe me?”
“Nay,” she replied immediately as they approached the castle ground. “I do not. You are the next Earl of Ellsworth to me, and will always be so.”
A vision of him taking Liana into his arms, kissing her thoroughly and asking her if he was still as much took Darien by surprise. That was certainly one way to break down the barriers between them, but not a viable one.
Which reminded him . . .
“It occurred to me, as well, you are an unmarried woman. If we could have brought an escort, I’d have done so. But even returning to Castle Blackwood with you will cause a stir. None are allowed inside the stronghold that have not been thoroughly vetted first.”
“I would imagine no less from a secret order of knights. The Guardians of the Sacred Oak, is it not?”
Liana and her mother were privy to everything his father knew. It had always been so.
“Indeed,” Darien said, remembering the first time he had realized how integral the seer was to his family. “Once, when I was a very young boy, I witnessed my father engage in a secretive moonlit meeting with your mother. I hid outside the window and overheard their conversation, believing my family was making deals with dark forces. My father later reassured me that everything he did was for the protection of our people and convinced me that keeping such a secret would avoid entanglements with outside politics and would protect us. It took many years, though, for me to fully comprehend the trust your family shares with mine, and vice versa.”
“And yet, despite it, we are strangers.”
Darien found that stipulation odd. “So many times I wanted to accompany him. In my mind, forging a relationship with your mother, with you, made sense.”
“I do remember you, though.”
Something about the way she said it gave Darien pause. He searched her face and found no hint of admiration. Not that he would ever compromise the seer’s daughter, or any woman in her position.
“I remember you as well. Though it has been many years.” He had to ask as they approached the stables. “How are you unmarried, still? You must have seen...”
“Twenty-five summers. I am, most assuredly, past the marriageable age.”
He stopped. “How is that possible?”
She blinked. He’d overstepped. “Apologies, Liana. I meant no insult and should not have asked.”
“No insult is taken. I simply have not met a man worthy of risking a broken heart for, and likely never will.”
Of all the reasons he’d ever heard for not being married, that was a first. He wanted to know who had broken her heart so thoroughly that she would remain unmarried because of it. But he’d said too much already.
“You can ride?” he asked, changing topics as they approached the outer wards of the castle. “I should have asked as much before I prepared a mount. If necessary, you can ride with me, though our journey will be slower.”
“I can ride,” she said. “Your father gifted my mother with a horse years ago, and I taught myself to ride him.”
She continued to impress him. “When we reach the stables, I will have you wait outside. The stableboys’ tongues wag more freely than our maids’, and all will know you accompany me before we even leave the castle grounds.”
“Of course,” she said.
They walked in silence then. An easy silence that boded well for the journey ahead.