Falling for Her Captor (7 page)

The four sat together, passing it between them, any hostility gone for now. They talked over events until they had pieced them together. Though Sir Hugh was exhausted, and weak from the loss of blood and his exertions, he had revived sufficiently to join in the conversation.

Aline was unused to drink that strong, but the warmth spreading through her body was far too comforting for her to care, and she soon found her head spinning. Jack made a further, slightly wobbly trip to the cart and returned with another bottle. He warned her in a slurred voice it was his own brew and would be ‘very, very much too strong for a woman.’

Her pride stung, Aline snatched it from his hand. Tilting her head back, she drank defiantly, conscious of Sir Hugh’s soft laugh as it caused her to cough abruptly and made her eyes water.

* * *

The night wore on and peace descended on the camp. Everyone became preoccupied with their own thoughts as the drink took effect. Duncan sat cross-legged with his back to the cartwheel next to Hugh, singing the same song over and over—something about cheeses and a maiden, though he seemed to know only half the words and was humming the rest. Jack lay on his back a little way off, hiccupping and ranting to the stars about how he should have followed his father into the ironmongery trade.

There would be no getting any sense out of them until the morning, Hugh realised.

Hugh found himself watching Aline as she sat silhouetted by the firelight. Her hair had come loose and now she tried fruitlessly to wind it up again, her body swaying slightly. He could not make out her features, though he found he could bring them to mind with ease. Despite—or maybe because of—his tiredness and the alcohol muddling his brain he could clearly picture the expression on her face as her fingers refused to obey her instructions.

After the third attempt she gave up and allowed her hair to uncurl down her back. Hugh’s fingers twitched as he longed to wind them into the pale tangle and draw her close.

As though she had sensed him watching Aline looked in his direction. Embarrassed at his thoughts, he passed her the nearly empty bottle. She beamed at him hazily before taking a sip and offering it back. He caught hold of her outstretched wrist and pulled her closer. She offered no resistance.

‘When we saw the wolf I told you to get inside the cart,’ he said sternly. ‘Why didn’t you do as I ordered?’

Aline shrugged. ‘If I had you would be dead now.’

Hugh conceded the point with a nod. ‘Thank you for tonight,’ he murmured. ‘Your shooting is excellent!’

Aline smiled again—and overbalanced. She ended up with her face close to his and they studied each other in the dying torchlight, neither one moving or speaking. Hugh found his lips parting in anticipation. Aline’s eyes closed, her head lolled sideways, and she slumped next to him with a sigh and fell asleep.

‘Good night, Aline,’ he whispered to her unconscious form.

He tugged the bottle from her hand and drained it, falling eventually into an uncomfortable slumber.

Chapter Seven

H
ugh woke the next morning with a pounding behind the eyes that he recognised was the cost of drinking anything Jack had brewed. He lay with his eyes shut, hoping the sensation of nausea would soon pass.

It was barely light. The stillness of the camp was a welcome contrast to the chaos of the night before. Hugh’s right arm and shoulder were cold and excruciatingly painful. Something was weighing down his legs. Panic tightened his chest as he pictured himself paralysed. Swallowing nervously, he pushed himself up onto his left elbow to investigate.

Lady Aline, still asleep, was curled against him, one arm flung across his shins and her head resting on that arm. Her hair was tangled and half covering her face, though Hugh could make out the tilt of her nose and a smile on her lips. Lips that he had come so close to tasting last night.

He smiled as he remembered Aline holding the crossbow, wide-eyed and trying to look threatening. Could she ever understand how alluring she had looked at that moment? Come to think of it, did she have any idea what a flash of her eyes could do to a man?

Hugh felt old. Thirty was not such a great age, he knew. With fortune on his side he could have more than that number of years still ahead of him. All the same, he was discovering that a life of drinking into the night and riding all day was long over. His body cried out for a long rest in a soft bed. Images flashed through his mind of who should be sharing it with him and he blinked rapidly to banish them.

Through his closed eyelids he could sense the sky lightening. They needed to move out soon
. One more day,
he thought. Lying near to Aline, he felt his blood chill at the knowledge that the end of their journey together was so close. Impulsively he reached his hand out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She frowned, shifting slightly, but carried on sleeping. The serious expression on her face caused his heart to turn over.

He sat up and shook her awake gently. ‘Good morning, my Lady Wolfkiller.’

Aline rolled onto her back and stretched her arms above her head, arching her back in a manner that did nothing for Hugh’s peace of mind. With a yawn she opened her eyes, then closed them tightly with a groan. Hugh watched with amusement as it dawned on her where she was lying. She sat bolt upright, her cheeks colouring.

‘I… How…? Oh!’

Seeing her embarrassment, Hugh looked away and called to Jack and Duncan to wake up. With difficulty he pulled himself to his feet and left Aline to regain her composure. Hugh walked round to the front of the cart and sluiced his face in the water bucket. The coolness went some way to alleviating his headache.

He could no longer put off what he was afraid to see. He took a couple of deep breaths, anticipating the sight of his torn and bloodied body. He pushed the dressing away from his wound. The sight of the scorched and blistered flesh sent his stomach rolling as he recalled the agony of the knife. Aline’s stitching seemed to be holding, however. The wound was clean, though it would no doubt be painful for a while to come, and his shoulder felt stiff and sore. All in all, he considered, he had come out of the escapade remarkably well.

His tunic was torn and stiff with blood, so he awkwardly shrugged it off and plunged it into the water. He wiped himself down, relieved to be washing away the grime, blood and sweat of the previous night. He turned and without warning found himself face to face with Aline, a mug in her hand, her mouth a circle of surprise.

* * *

Aline stopped abruptly at the sight of the half-naked man standing before her. Only the fact that he looked as taken aback as she felt stopped her turning on her heel and running back the way she had come. Though she had been intimately—many would say indecently—close to Sir Hugh the previous night, it had been almost dark. She had been aware of the strength in his body as she sat astride him, but her only concern at the time had been to staunch the bleeding and stitch his wounds. Now she became intensely aware of what the night had hidden from her.

She had interrupted him in the act of bathing, and rivulets of water ran from Sir Hugh’s hair. Aline’s eyes followed their journey across the arc of his collarbone to the fine thatch of hair across his chest, where beads of water clung to him still. Sir Hugh slowly lowered the wet cloth. His chest and arms were taut and well defined. Aline’s eyes travelled further downwards to his lean waist and the line of dark hair leading from his belly down past the waistband of…

Aline realised with shock where her eyes and imagination were leading her and forced herself to look upwards, hardly daring to meet Sir Hugh’s eyes. She could sense a slow blush creeping across her chest and neck.

‘Can I help you, Lady Aline?’ Sir Hugh asked pleasantly. ‘I hope last night has not taken too much of a toll on you?’

Aline shook her head. He gave no indication that he had seen her staring, though how could he not have?

‘I thought…that is… Here. I brought you some ale. Take this—you’ll need to drink more than usual today.’ She faltered and thrust the mug into his hand.

Turning on her heel, she walked away, desperately hoping that the chill morning air would bleach the colour from her cheeks before anyone noticed how flushed they were.

Hugh appeared a few minutes later. Aline bent over a pile of blankets, rolling them carefully, not trusting herself to look him in the face. From the corner of her eye she could see him watching, his eyes burning into her. She carried the blankets to the cart, passing Jack as he walked Bayliss round to where Hugh waited. Hugh put his foot in the stirrup and stretched up to grasp the pommel. He stopped abruptly with a curse and took a step back.

‘Let me help, sir,’ Jack offered, taking hold of the bridle.

‘I can manage alone,’ Hugh growled, brushing away the young guard’s hands.

He rolled his shoulders back and reached up again. He swung his leg over the horse and landed heavily in the saddle. Bayliss bucked and for a moment Aline feared Hugh might slip. She crossed the ground between them almost without realising, her arms outstretched. Jack looked at her quizzically and she dropped her hands to her sides. With a fluttering heart she started to climb into the cart.

‘My lady!’

At the sound of Hugh’s voice Aline felt the breath catch in her throat. She paused and looked over her shoulder.

‘It’s a fine morning. Why don’t you sit with Duncan?’ Hugh suggested.

When Aline nodded he raised an eyebrow.

‘Good. You’re looking rather pale. The air will bring the colour back to your cheeks.’ With an innocent smile he dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and trotted off, leaving Aline open-mouthed and lost for words.

Despite his insistence to the contrary it was obvious that Hugh could not ride without pain, and progress was slow. By the time they stopped for lunch his face had developed a waxy sheen and his knuckles were white from the effort of gripping the reins.

It was late afternoon before they crossed the hills and made their way through the narrow valley towards Roxholm. As the cart travelled faster Hugh became more frustrated at his inability to control his mount. Finally he called for the cart to stop. Handing the reins to Jack, he climbed from the saddle somewhat awkwardly. He walked stiffly to where Aline sat and held out his good arm. His mouth twisted into a grimace.

‘I’m afraid I must trouble you for your place, my lady.’

He sounded weary and his hand was cold to the touch as Aline took it. All the same her skin prickled where he rubbed his thumb across her palm. As Jack began to tether Bayliss to the cart Hugh motioned him to stop.

‘Bayliss gets restive if he doesn’t get enough exercise. Would you like to ride him, Lady Aline?’ Hugh gestured to where Bayliss stood, shifting his weight from foot to foot. ‘Unless you don’t think you could handle him, that is?’

Aline lifted her chin with a snort and saw the challenge in Hugh’s eyes. Without speaking she took the reins from Jack and swung herself into the saddle. Bayliss tossed his head, impatient to move, his breath sweet on the air. A ripple of excitement ran up Aline’s spine at the sheer power of the animal. For a split second it crossed her mind that she could turn him about and be gone before anyone could stop her.

She slid a sideways glance at Hugh. He was leaning forwards on the bench, watching her intently. With a nod she snapped her heels and spurred the animal into a gallop, Jack following behind on the mare.

* * *

Hugh watched them go, Aline’s exhilarated laughter floating on the breeze, and smiled to himself.

Duncan cracked the reins and the carthorse set off. He looked from the path to Hugh, then back to the path, before smiling and shaking his head.

Hugh ignored the soldier’s smile for as long as he could bear before finally sighing. ‘What is it, Duncan?’

‘You’re taking a risk, aren’t you, sir?’ Duncan asked. ‘Jack’ll never catch her if she makes a break for it.’

‘I don’t think she would now. We’re too far from her lands—she’d not know where to go.’

‘Good that she’s getting a last taste of freedom, then, given as how the Duke’ll be keeping her close by,’ the older man muttered, not quite under his breath.

‘She’s a hostage, Duncan, nothing more,’ Hugh snapped. ‘He’ll keep her until he negotiates trade concessions or land, then send her home.’

Duncan snorted. ‘Do you really believe that? Even if that’s true he’s not going to keep a pretty thing like her around without taking the opportunity to amuse himself, is he?’

Hugh clenched his fists as the fears he had been harbouring were voiced so starkly. ‘He wouldn’t dare try anything so foolish once she’s in the citadel—and why do you think I insisted it was me who brought her here rather than some of Stephen’s brutes?’ Hugh replied.

‘Hugh,’ Duncan said, wielding the name like a whip, ‘I’ve known you for over twenty years. I know why you owe him your loyalty. But listen to an older and wiser friend for once. In just two years Stephen has nearly ruined the province with his reckless decisions. How much longer will you let him act this way?’ Duncan asked the question quietly.

‘I guard the interests of the province as best as I can—you know that. I am bound by my vows and I’ll do what I always have: try to counsel him wisely and temper his impulses.’

Duncan looked at him for what seemed like eternity before he spoke. ‘He’s getting worse, isn’t he? Stephen may be Duke, but the people would follow you willingly and you know it.’

‘Are you suggesting treason?’ Hugh glared at the old soldier.

Duncan pursed his lips and shrugged. He shook the reins and the carthorse redoubled its efforts.

Moodily Hugh wondered what his life would be when he was no longer of use to the Duke. Would he share the fate of many of Rufus’s old advisors and find his end with a knife in the back? He sat hunched over, brooding on Duncan’s words, his mood worsening by the minute.

They rounded a bend to discover the horses standing patiently, where a knot of trees began to thicken into forest. Aline stood on a low bough, throwing down greengages to Jack, who caught them in his saddlebag.

‘I thought you might like some fruit, sir,’ he called to Hugh.

He reached up to Aline, who was now standing on the lower branch. She jumped down into his waiting arms and the boy caught her round the waist to steady her. The sight of her in Jack’s arms hit Hugh like a punch to the stomach.

‘We’ll stop for ten minutes. Water the horses,’ he instructed Jack curtly.

He climbed down from the seat and held out his good arm to Aline. She hesitated briefly before accepting, and together they walked into the forest. Hugh bit his lip, racking his brains as to how to warn Aline of the threats she might face. He rejected his words four or five times before he began to speak.

‘Lady Aline, I want you to understand how sorry I am for my part in this business. You saved my life; I don’t believe I have thanked you properly for that. I am in your debt.’

Aline said nothing but continued walking, her pace steady. When she spoke her voice was so low Hugh had to strain to hear.

‘Then set me free. Say I escaped, or that you never found me.’

That scenario had crossed Hugh’s mind so many times that to hear it from Aline brought home the treachery it implied. He dropped her arm and rounded on her crossly. ‘Do I seem so dishonourable a man that you think I would break my oath just on a whim? Would you be so quick to betray
your
province, my lady?’

Aline recoiled as though he had slapped her. She broke away from him and stumbled back towards the cart.

‘Aline! Stop—please!’

She leaned against the trunk of a tree as though to steady her legs. Hugh desperately fought the urge to pull her into his arms. Instead he took her hands in his, resisting her attempts to pull free.

‘Please,’ he repeated.

Aline stopped struggling but Hugh kept hold of her hands. He brushed his thumb lightly across her knuckles.

‘You know I cannot do that,’ he explained, his voice softer now. ‘I have made promises I am honour-bound to keep, and for ill or good I must do my duty. I swear, though, I will protect you as much as I am able. I offer you…’

Aline looked up at him with such an intense expression in her grey eyes that Hugh’s heart began to race. For one moment he thought she might kiss him. If she did he would be lost.

He looked away. ‘I offer you my friendship,’ he finished.

Aline’s eyes clouded. Wordlessly she twisted free and pushed past him. She stalked back to the cart, ignoring the mug of ale Duncan held out, and climbed inside, pulling the curtains closed behind her. The guards looked at Hugh, but he held his hand up to forestall their questions.

‘Jack, tether Bayliss to the cart. We need to move out. We have a delivery to make and we’re late.’

The sun was setting when they met the escort. Half a dozen men sat around a low brazier; a carriage hitched with four horses stood nearby. The Sergeant leaped to his feet and saluted smartly, though his eyes widened as he noticed Hugh’s bandages.

‘Wolf. I’m fine,’ Hugh explained curtly. ‘I’ll fetch Lady Aline.’