His head finally came up, the dual-colored eyes glazed with passion. “What is it?”
He kissed her firmly before she could reply and she dislodged the kiss, bobbing her head to avoid his seeking mouth so that she could speak.
“If you want to marry soon, then you must seek my father’s permission right away,” she said. “You must convince him that your intentions are honorable and that you are not simply claiming a spoil of war.”
He sighed against her cheek, disappointed that she was making him focus on something other than her sweet body. His hand was still over her breast and he began to rub it softly.
“I do not believe your father would be receptive to it today.”
“Then when?”
“When I return.”
“When will that be?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Knowing that you will be here waiting for me, it will seem like an eternity.”
She gazed into his unusual eyes, thinking for the first time how beautiful they were. She gently touched his cheek. “For me as well. Jax, please promise me that you will conduct yourself with fairness and mercy. Do what you must, fulfill your ambitions, but at least do it with decency. Will you at least promise me that?”
A faint smile came to his lips. “Aye,” he finally muttered. “If it means so much to you, then I will do my best to comply.”
“Do you even understand what I mean? Such things do not come naturally to you.”
“I understand. My men will think I’ve gone mad, but I understand.”
She smiled brightly, both hands on his head affectionately. “I will not stop you from being who you are, but let us add another chapter to Jax de Velt’s legacy. Let us introduce mercy to the man and his legend and see where that takes us.”
He met her smile, kissing her with such ardor that it made her head swim. Then he kissed her exposed breast tenderly before he covered it back up and straightened the neckline of her gown. Reluctantly, he lowered her to the ground. Taking both of her hands, he brought them to his lips.
“Did you mean what you said?” he asked, his mouth against her fingers.
She looked puzzled. “About what?”
“You wanted to know how you could love a man who kills the weak and helpless,” he turned her hands over and kissed the palms. “Do you really think you could grow to love me someday?”
She smiled warmly. “Oh, Jax,” she breathed. “To that man who is kind, gentle, generous, and understanding, I think I can learn to love him. But to the Dark Lord inside you… I do not love what he does. I hate it.”
“We are one in the same.”
“I know. Although I will not try to cage the Dark Lord, I will be honest when I say that I intend to civilize him.”
He couldn’t help the grin that creased his lips, snorting softly at her bold declaration. “Then you have a task ahead of you, lady.”
Her smile faded as she gazed up into his unusual eyes. “Will you not tell me where you are going?”
The smile left his lips as well. “Does it matter?”
She shook her head. “Nay, only… only what if you do not return? I will not know where to look for you.”
A flicker of confusion crossed his features. “You would look for me?”
“Of course. I would bury you in Pelinom’s chapel so that I could still talk to you every day.”
“Bury me?”
“If you fall in battle, I mean. Someone must take care of you and remember you in prayer.”
She meant every word sincerely. Jax stared at her, touched beyond words that she would say such a thing. He’d never had anyone express such sentiment to him; not even his father from whom he learned everything. The man was beyond sentiment, a black spawn from a black family line that had culminated with the mightiest warrior of the line in Ajax. The de Velts were not known as a sentimental family. Even when his mother had died when he had been six years of age, Jax remembered only that they had taken her body to the nearest church where his father had paid the monks to pray over the woman and bury her in some unmarked grave. And that had been the end of it.
Did such sentiment really exist? He’d never cared until this moment. In fact, there were a great many things in his life that he’d never given thought to until he had met Kellington. Now he cared a great deal. Bending down, he kissed her sweetly on the lips.
“Have no fear, love,” he murmured, kissing her again. “I will return to you, I swear it.”
With a final kiss, he quit the solar, vacating into the sunset skies beyond the keep. Kellington went back to her bookkeeping, her thoughts lingering on the massive man with the two colored eyes and praying that he would keep his promises; all of them.
*
Keats opened his chamber door to the soft knock and was surprised to see who stood there. “Lavaine,” he said. “So you are still at Pelinom. I had no idea what had become of you. Are you well?”
Lavaine nodded, pleased to see her husband’s commanding officer. He had always been very kind to her. When he ushered her inside his room, he took her hand and kissed it.
“I am well, my lord,” she said. “It is very good to see you returned.”
Keats wriggled his eyebrows. “And it is good to be back, I think,” he led her over to the chairs near the hearth. He held one out of for her and she sat. He took the one opposite. “It is a far different place than I left,” he commented.
Lavaine agreed. “At least… at least the army has been cut down and buried. We may thank Kellington for that. She demanded that de Velt bury the army, so he did.”
Keats absorbed the words, his seasoned mind working. He was glad to see her, that was true, but he was mostly interested in what was really going on at Pelinom. Lavaine had always been something of a gossip so he knew she would tell him. Although he had not wanted to get into it so early in the conversation, since she brought the subject up, he would take her lead.
“Lavaine,” he said slowly, not wanting to upset her. “What is going on with my daughter and de Velt? The Jax de Velt I have heard tale of for nine years is not a man of compassion or kindness. He had not taken her for a lover, has he?”
Lavaine blanched slightly. “Have you asked her, my lord?”
“I have. She has denied it.”
Lavaine sighed faintly, looking to her hands as she thought carefully on her words. “I do not believe they are lovers in the literal sense, my lord,” she said. “But I would be lying if I said that there was nothing between them.”
Keats closed his eyes to the horrors of that thought. He suddenly had a very bad headache right between the eyes and he rubbed at his forehead. “Do you know this for certain?”
“I have not seen evidence of it, no. But he keeps her very close to him. And he will do anything she asks. When… when she asked him to bury Trevan and our son, he did so without delay.”
Keats was still rubbing his forehead, remembering Trevan’s groans of pain as de Velt impaled him on a sharpened Yew sapling. It was something he could not block out.
“Then I am thankful for Kelli’s influence over de Velt,” he said. He stopped rubbing and looked at her. “But how far does it go? Is she fond of him also?”
Lavaine shrugged. “She will not speak of it to me.” She suddenly looked uncomfortable. “But… but I have heard de Velt’s men speak of his infatuation with her. They are not kind about it.”
“Because they are all demons and murderers,” Keats grumbled. “What is it they say?”
“That Kelli is a witch and has cast a spell on de Velt. They say she has great control over him.”
Keats could not believe what he was hearing. When he was sent to Foulburn Castle those weeks ago, never had he imagined that the situation at Pelinom would take this course. On the other hand, he was not surprised. Kellington was a beautiful woman with a beautiful figure and she’d had suitors come and go since a young age. She had never shown much interest in any of them. He found it horribly ironic that the one man she apparently gave attention to w
as one her father would prefer she not.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, calming somewhat now that his suspicions had been confirmed. “I will speak to her about it. She must know that de Velt is not meant for her.”
Lavaine nodded emphatically. “You must, my lord. I fear she is siding with the Devil and believing his lies. I fear for her.”
“As do I. Thank you for telling me.”
Lavaine wrung her hands. “Is there any way you can remove her from Pelinom? Perhaps if you were to take her away from here….”
Keats threw up his arms. “How? I am a prisoner myself. How would I be able to remove her from de Velt’s presence?”
“You could if I helped you.”
A deep voice came from the chamber door; it was open. Neither Keats nor Lavaine had heard it open on its old iron hinges. But it was indeed open, and Hazard now stood in the doorway in the form of Amadeo.
Startled, Lavaine shot to her feet, certain that they were going to be put to death by the big blond knight, but so far, he’d not made a move. He just stood there. Keats, on edge, slowly rose from his chair and faced the man.
“We were not conspiring,” he told Amadeo. “We were simply discussing my daughter’s welfare.”
Amadeo walked into the room and closed the door behind him. “I know,” he said, eyeing Lavaine as she cowered near the wall. “Come over here, lady. I am not here to harm you.”
Lavaine was trembling as she walked towards them. Amadeo turned back to Keats.
“You are concerned for your daughter’s welfare as I am concerned for my liege’s,” he said. “It seems that they are both quite smitten with each other, which is coming to be a disadvantage for the war machine of Jax de Velt.”
Keats wasn’t quite following him. “Did you come here to speak to me about Kellington?”
Amadeo nodded. “I came here to see if we could reach an understanding.”
“And what is that?”
“Remove your daughter from Pelinom and you will both leave with your lives. Stay here and she dies.”
“What?” Lavaine gasped. “What do you mean?”
Amadeo’s normally even expression hardened as he looked at Keats. “Suffice it to say that for my own reasons, your daughter must be removed. I have watched for weeks as de Velt becomes more and more enamored with her. Did you know that he intends to marry her?”
Keats’ face went red. “He’ll have to kill me before I would allow it.”
“He would kill you if you oppose him, have no doubt,” Amadeo agreed. “And your daughter is proving to be such a strong influence over him that, sooner or later, I would be forced to eliminate her for the good of all of us. The men are already questioning de Velt’s sanity as a result of the order to bury Pelinom’s army. More and more, she commands and he obeys. It will soon reach a critical point.”
Keats was shaken. “What do you mean?”
“Precisely that. Understand, Coleby, that de Velt’s men have indentured themselves to him through promises of riches and conquest. De Velt has never gone back on his word. But your daughter has already exerted strong influence over him, so strong that I fear what she may ask of him next. If she asks him to cease the completion of his plans, then de Velt will have a rebellion on his hands. This I cannot allow. Jax has a plan he has carefully mapped out, something that had been coming to fruition for years. We are close to the end of that plan and I cannot allow your daughter to ruin it. Do you understand?”
Slowly, Keats nodded. “I do,” he said. “You want what de Velt has promised you and you fear that Kellington will stand in the way of that.”
“Exactly. So I therefore make you this offer: I will help you escape, but you must take your daughter with you. If she stays, I will kill her.”
“And if I tell de Velt of your threat?”
“I will kill you tonight, in this room, and no one will ever find your corpse. Then I will kill your daughter and scatter her body to the winds.”
Keats knew that he was deadly serious. He looked at Lavaine, near tears, and was regretful of the fact that she had to hear all of this. As he pondered the threat, he realized that he had little choice.
“What are you going to tell de Velt when he discovers that we’re missing?” he asked. “If he is as smitten as you say he is, he will track us.”
Amadeo had thought the matter through clearly. “I will tell them that you escaped and I will personally lead the search to recover you. He will be disappointed when I return empty handed, but he will not question me. Make sure you flee far enough away that there will never be any chance of de Velt finding you.”
Keats drew in a long, contemplative breath. He was cornered. But in a sense, he was also glad. Removing Kellington from de Velt’s presence was exactly what he wanted and this murderous knight was an unexpected gift.
“Very well,” he agreed quietly. “But I would take Lavaine with us as well. I do not want to leave her behind.”
Amadeo nodded crisply. “I will make the arrangements; there are others that feel as I do and are willing to assist. I will send someone to you on the morrow with further instructions. Be prepared to leave after the army pulls out of Pelinom.”
Keats did nothing more than nod. Amadeo’s gaze moved between the man and Lavaine before swiftly quitting the chamber. When he was gone, Lavaine turned to Keats.
“What are we going to do?” she was verging on panic. “He’ll kill us if…”
Keats’ jaw ticked as he put up a sharp had to cut her off. “Return to your chamber and pack what things you need. Do not breathe a word of this to Kellington, do you understand? Not a word. I’ll kill you myself if you do.”
Lavaine nodded fearfully, wiping the tears from her cheek as she fled the room. Keats continued to stand there long after she was gone, wondering what manner of hell they were not preparing to face. Kellington would not be a willing participant if she was as smitten with de Velt as he had been told. It would make a quiet escape difficult. Keats therefore knew he was going to have to resort to a tactic he had never used with his daughter; to protect her life, he was going to have to play a difficult game.
In order to save his daughter, he was going to have to lie.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Having fallen asleep the night before to the sound of Jax bellowing orders in the bailey four stories below, Kellington awoke well before dawn when Matilda shook her awake. Groggily, she pulled herself out of bed and tugged off her sleeping shift. Matilda had brought a half-barrel tub with violet-scented water in it and Kellington stood in the warmed water as Matilda poured it over her body.
Water splashed onto the floor and sent droplets into the hearth, creating puffs of white smoke. Using a bar of hard white soap that Keats had purchased for his daughter when he had traveled to Bristol, Matilda proceeded to scrub her mistress with the sudsy, almost greasy, bar. After much scrubbing and several rinses, Kellington stepped from the tub and wrapped herself in an enormous sheet of drying linen. As she sat by the hearth, Matilda combed out the braids that she had slept in.
The braids had made her long blond hair wavy and silky. Kellington brushed her teeth with a soft reed as Matilda tried to pull the linen off of her and get her dressed. But it was chilly and Kellington held on to the linen, wrapping herself more tightly in it as Matilda pleaded. Finally, and with a grin, Kellington tossed back the linen and hooted at the temperature of the room, demanding to be given her shift. Matilda could hardly get it on her for as much as she was jumping around. But the soft linen shift when on, as did the warm pantalets and stockings.
Because she suspected she was going to spend some time in the orchards this day, Kellington chose a durable gown of gold-colored wool. It was a shade that made her golden-brown eyes appear almost entirely gold and complimenting her lovely features. The neckline was close to her neck, laying along her clavicle and closing tightly at the edge of her shoulders. The sleeves were long and snug and the bodice form-fitting. It was a warm garment and she knew she w
ould need it on this cold morn.
She knew Jax and his army was leaving at dawn and she wanted to see him before he went, causing her to urge Matilda to hurry and finish with the dressing. As Kellington slipped on her warm doe-skin slippers, Matilda brushed her hair back and folded into a long, neat braid down her back. Kellington pulled on the matching coat that went with the gown, a sleeveless garment that was lined with fur around the neck and arm openings, and trailed all the way to the floor. It was heavy and warm. Pulling on a pair of doe-skinned gloves, she eagerly quit the chamber.
It was still very dark as she made her way down to the third floor. The door to her father’s chamber was closed so she continued down to the second floor. There was some light radiating from the great hall two serving women brought fresh bread and other goods up from the kitchen. But for the two of them, the hall was empty.
Kellington went into the dark, cold solar and lit two tapers on the desk. She took her writing box from the shelf and pulled down the parchment that had all of the names of the laborers written. As she sat down to go over the list of names, a figure entered the solar.
It was Jax’s knight, Michael. Broad and squat, he was dressed in full battle gear. Kellington looked up from her parchment.
“What is it?” she asked.
The man wiped his nose with his mailed glove. “De Velt says to tell you that your laborers are already arriving. He has them penned in the bailey and wants you to come right away.”
Rolling up her parchment, she quit the room with the stocky knight on her heels. Emerging from the keep into the heavy darkness of pre-dawn, she descended the wooden stairs into a bailey that was full of men and torches. De Velt’s men soldiers were everywhere. Michael walked beside her, gradually directing her to an area near the gatehouse where several dozen people stood. As Kellington drew close, she recognized some of the people from Hadden. Amadeo was there, as were several other soldiers, forming a human ring around the frightened group.
Kellington wasn’t pleased with the fact that her laborers were being harassed into a terrified huddle. Granted, they had been frightened into their jobs, but she did not appreciate the way Jax’s men were treating them like prisoners. She marched up, eyeing Amadeo as the man stood tall and silent with a stony look on his face.