Ginny Hartman Read online

  Terric smiled. “Tis I,” he answered with humor. He loved the way her wide eyes searched his face as if she were trying to convince herself that it truly was him. Regrettably, he couldn't decipher if she was pleased to see him or not.

  “What are you doing here? Tis highly improper for you to be in my chambers.”

  Her question forced him painfully back into reality. “I'm here to fetch you and assist you back to your parents.”

  Before he could further explain, she cut him off, “That can't be true. My parents gave me express permission to stay here, at Herfordshire Castle until they returned from the council meeting.”

  “That may be so but,” he paused to take a long, steadying breath before lying to her, “they have been sent to Peltis on a royal visit and will be away longer than they originally intended. They insist you be delivered to them at once.”

  “Well, what if I refuse to go?” she asked petulantly.

  “I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here, forcing you to ride strung over my lap the entire way so I can keep you in your place.”

  “You wouldn't dare!” she cried.

  “Truthfully, I'd rather not have to go that route, but I'm not above doing so if it means that I will fulfill King Cedric's wish.”

  She cocked her head to one side, “What does my uncle have to do with this? I thought you said that it was my parents wish that I reunite with them.”

  Suddenly the alcove felt too small and too warm. The girl was much too shrewd. “Tis their wish. Now I must insist that you ready yourself to go. We leave at once.”

  Rosalind surprised him by placing both of her hands on his chest and shoving him into the wall. He wanted to laugh at her boldness, but didn't think it wise. “Why,” she said, leaning in close to his face, “would they send you? Did they truly believe that I'd make such a fuss as to warrant the High King's Lead Defender as an escort?”

  This was the part Terric hated having to explain the most, for it didn't make sense. Instead, he opted to forgo any sort of explanation in favor of distraction. He reached one hand up to her hair and twisted a lock around his palm and watched as the silky strands wound across his hand then slithered down his arm. He was very aware of her violet eyes searching his face, but he chose not to look into them as he spoke. “We leave in a quarter of an hour. Pack light and be quick. Your chambermaid and the steward have been made aware of the situation, so there's nothing left for you to do but comply.”

  Sliding his hand down the length of her hair, he reached up and tucked the lock behind her ear, purposefully caressing the soft skin behind her earlobe and down her throat as he did so. Then without another word, he lifted the tapestry and hopped down to the ground below and walked out of the room, leaving a stunned Rosalind gaping after him.

  Chapter 8

  No Turning Back

  Terric stalked to the stables, not entirely sure he could stand several days in the girl’s company without caving into temptation. Maybe King Cedric had been wrong in trusting him with this particular task. He shook the thought violently from his mind, refusing to allow himself to give into weakness. As soon as he reached the stables, he retrieved his horse and led him back to the entrance of the castle to wait for Princess Rosalind.

  His eyebrows rose in surprise when the lady in question walked into the courtyard, taking even less time than he had allotted her. She had changed from her nightgown and was now dressed in a simple light blue dress, her long hair plaited and hanging over one shoulder. Clutched in her hands was a small satchel, presumably her belongings.

  Terric stepped forward, one arm reaching for her bag. “Allow me to load this onto my horse then we can be on our way.”

  “Just you wait a moment.” An overwrought voice followed a rather large trunk carried by two young boys out into the courtyard.

  Terric looked from the trunk back to Rosalind before asking, “Didn't I instruct you to pack light?”

  Rosalind smiled at him, “Aye, and I did. That,” she said, indicating the trunk, “is all hers.”

  Brigit stalked out from behind the trunk and harrumphed. “Nonsense child, you know as well as I that most of the clothing in this trunk is for you. I refuse to allow you to travel to Peltis with only one change of clothing. What would your mother think?”

  At the mention of her mother, Terric stepped towards Brigit and said, “We are not taking that trunk.”

  “We most certainly are. There will be plenty of room for it in the wagon.”

  Terric looked around. “What wagon would that be?” Brigit's face turned red, and Terric could have sworn he heard Rosalind stifle a giggle.

  “The one you will retrieve from the stables,” Brigit snapped back.

  “I regret to tell you that Stephen here will be our only mode of transportation.” He walked over to where his destrier was standing and patted him on the neck.

  Brigit's eyes bulged in her head. “Surely you jest. How will we all fit?”

  Terric turned and walked calmly towards Rosalind, who was watching the interchange with amusement. Looking directly at her, he spoke, “If we wish to make good time, we will need to travel without a wagon. You and I will fit on Stephen without a problem. That is unless...” He let the sentence trail off, watching as her violet eyes widened in excitement.

  “Are you implying we leave Brigit behind? It isn't proper, but...”

  Leaning close to her face so only she could hear, he whispered lowly, “You would like that wouldn't you?”

  After several seconds of silence, she replied honestly, “Aye.”

  Terric straightened, watching the merriment dancing in her eyes. He was loathe to refuse her anything that brought her joy, knowing that joy would turn to sorrow soon enough when she learned the real reason he had been sent to fetch her. He knew it would be unwise on so many levels to travel with the princess unchaperoned, but he reasoned with himself that it would be quicker. Besides, he rationalized, King Cedric hadn't told him exactly how to do his job, just that he was to bring the princess to Peltis and that's what he was doing. His mind made up, he turned to Brigit. “You will stay behind.”

  Brigit sucked in several shocked breathes before stuttering, “I—I have never...this is utterly unacceptable.”

  Terric ignored her indigent stammering, reaching for Rosalind's bag and storing it in the side saddle, before hefting her up into the saddle, then pulling himself up to sit behind her. Grabbing the reins, he urged the horse into a trot, pausing only long enough to turn his head towards the furious chambermaid and holler, “Take it up with King Cedric,” behind him, as he kicked Stephen in the flank and galloped off.

  ***

  Rosalind couldn't contain the giggle that started in her stomach and rose forth to burst from her mouth. She had never seen Brigit so angry, so purple-faced before and defying her so openly felt so liberating. Well mayhap it hadn't been her that had directly defied Brigit, but still, it felt good nonetheless.

  When her amusement at the situation finally abated, she focused her concentration on holding tightly to the pommel of the saddle while they furiously rode further and further away from Herfordshire Castle, her many questions for the defender having to wait until he slowed the horse's pace.

  She wasn't sure how long they rode, but the further they got away from her home, the more distracted she became by the stranger sitting behind her. His arms were covered with the black material of his defenders tunic, but his hands were lean and strong, as he expertly guided his destrier. She took her time inspecting what little of his body she could see from her position in front of him. She could feel the strength of his legs as his muscular thighs held tightly to her sides. She looked down at the gray hose covering those magnificent legs and noticed several splatters of blood. She cringed, wondering briefly if he was aware of the stains, or why he hadn't bothered changing into clean attire before coming for her. She shrugged the small detail off, knowing that she wasn't one to judge another for their unkempt appearance, kno
wing very well that her own appearance was often lacking.

  When the horse finally slowed, Rosalind adjusted herself in the saddle, attempting to look up into the defender's face. He was so handsome; her heart did a funny little flip in her chest, beating out an erratic cadence against her ribs. She tried to ignore it, as she asked, “Are you seriously planning on escorting me all the way to Peltis without my chambermaid?”

  The defender pulled back on the reins, slowing them almost to a stop. “It would appear so. I certainly don't intend to go back and retrieve her.”

  “My parents will be furious when they find out.”

  A steely look passed over his face, but only just briefly. “King Cedric instructed me to retrieve you and deliver you to Peltis. He never specified that I bring along your entire castle staff as well.”

  Rosalind smiled. “One chambermaid doesn't exactly constitute the entire staff of Herfordshire Castle.”

  The defender just shrugged, completely unapologetic for his actions. And truthfully, Rosalind wasn't offended by his actions in the least. The rebellious streak that had always seemed to reside in her rejoiced at the prospect of an adventure, however brief it may be. When it became clear that the defender had nothing else to say, she asked him curiously, “Since we are to spend the next several days together, may I inquire as to how I should address you?”

  “My name is Terric de Valles.”

  “Terric,” she said, testing it out on her tongue, liking the way it sounded.

  Another spell of silence ensued before she spoke once more. “Tell me Terric, why would King Cedric see fit to send his lead defender to escort me to my parents?”

  She felt him stiffen behind her, as he brought the horse to a complete halt and slid effortlessly from the saddle. Once he was planted firmly on the ground, he looked up at her through his helmet and said, “I'm just doing as I have been instructed.”

  Rosalind didn't wait for him to assist her. As she slid from the horse, Terric reached up and steadied her with his hands, guiding her safely to the ground. “Do you always do as you are instructed?” she asked him.

  “I do,” came his firm reply.

  “Of course you do, you wouldn't be the High King's lead defender if you didn't.”

  “Do you view that as a weakness, Your Highness?”

  Rosalind looked up at him, wishing he would take off his helmet so she could search his face. She thought about his question before answering him. She knew that she herself often struggled with complying to every instruction bestowed upon her. Her disregard for her parents’ rules had often caused much contention between them. She had often argued that she was just following her heart, but maybe it was more of a willful rebellion on her part than she had previously realized.

  She paused in her ruminations, knowing that he wasn't asking her if she always did as she was instructed, but wanted to know if she found him weak for being honor bound to his duties. When she thought of it like that, she knew her answer immediately. “Not at all. I don't imagine there is a weak bone in your body.”

  She watched as his face broke into a smile at her response. Was he amused by her answer? Finally, he reached up and removed his helmet from his head, dangling it from two fingers as he lowered it to his side. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat, and the faint shadows under his eyes revealed to her that he must be exhausted, but there was still something about him that made her insides feel as if they were turning to mush. She pressed both of her hands to her midsection, as if the action could cause the feeling to flee.

  “There's a stream not too far from here. I will lead Stephen there so he can get a drink before we must resume our journey.”

  Rosalind only nodded, then watched silently as he led the horse to the water, bending to splash some of the cool liquid on his face and hair as well. Now that they were away from the castle, the first inklings of doubt began to form about being alone with him. She had only been thinking about adventure and getting away from the stifling Brigit. She hadn't taken the time to anticipate the full consequences of her actions. The next few days could prove to be very awkward—she wasn't quite sure how to act around men, especially one as handsome as him.

  Trying to distance herself from both Terric and her uncomfortable thoughts, she walked further upstream from the man and his destrier. The morning air was still crisp, but Rosalind couldn't resist slipping her feet from her shoes. Lifting the hem of her dress, she dipped one toe cautiously in the water before withdrawing it suddenly at the overwhelming coldness. She laughed nervously before glancing towards Terric to see if he was watching her. When she was satisfied that he wasn't, she braved submersing one foot fully into the water before letting the other one follow.

  Her feet felt as if they were quickly turning to ice, but it was oddly refreshing nonetheless. She found her footing on the slippery rocks at the bottom of the stream and took a few tentative steps. Starting to feel confident, she chanced another step, but her foot came down on the sharp corner of a jagged rock, causing her to moan in agony and withdraw her foot suddenly, causing her dubious balance to wane. Arms flailing, she fell back, her bottom end meeting with the hard ground of the riverbank. Great, she thought, she had most likely just stained one of only two dresses she had with her for her journey to Peltis. Her mother would not be amused and would surely insist on an entire wardrobe to replace the one she didn't bring with her.

  Glancing downstream, she desperately hoped that Terric had not witnessed her blunder. With relief, she noticed that his back was turned to her, though his shoulders seemed to be shaking. Was he laughing at her? Bolting upright, she felt her cheeks flame red. Why was she always embarrassing herself in his presence? Surely he must think her extremely incompetent. Brushing her backside off, she waited for her feet to dry before replacing her shoes and making her way to where Terric was standing.

  Hearing her approach, Terric turned towards her. She willed herself not to blush as he looked at her, his eyes sliding towards her feet, then up to her now-stained dress before settling his clear, blue eyes once more on her face. “There won't be time for you to change, or any place decent for you to freshen up for that matter.”

  “Do you hear me complaining?” she snapped back, unsure of why she felt so peevish at his statement.

  “I just thought that...”

  “Well you thought wrong. I'm not like most princesses you know. My clothing is dirty more often than not, and it doesn't bother me one bit.”

  Terric smiled at her then, an infectious smile that seemed to brighten the overcast morning. She felt the funny feeling start in the pit of her stomach once more before it seemed to spread, first upwards into her chest then branching out into her limbs. Her arms began to feel tingly and weightless. Glancing briefly over Terric's shoulder, she saw a slow mist crawling towards them, shimmering with vibrant colors. She cocked her head to one side as she viewed the intrusion, mesmerized by its beckoning call. Ignoring Terric's curious stare, she stepped around him and began walking towards the wisps of color. Feeling a strong hand wind around her forearm and pull her back, she blinked, snapping out of her reverie.

  “Are you well, Your Highness?” Terric asked in a worried voice.

  Shaking her head to try and dispel it of the fog that had settled on her senses, she turned to look at him, but the effort proved too much. Suddenly weak, she slid to the ground in front of him, cradling her head in her hands, as she stared at the grass beneath her legs.

  Terric knelt before her, “Are you well? Perhaps you should eat; your strength has failed you.”

  Rosalind responded without raising her head, “Mayhap that would help; thank you.”

  Terric rose and went and rummaged through his saddle bag until he found some dried strips of meat and some almonds. Returning, he extended his hand and offered them to her. They sat in silence as she ate, her strength seemingly returning, albeit slowly.

  When the food was entirely consumed, she turned to him, her face still pale, “Strang
e things happen when I'm around you.”

  Stunned, he asked, “Whatever do you mean? We've only been around each other...”

  She cut him off, “Four times, if you count earlier in my bedchambers as a separate time than now. And, each time I have felt...well, strange.”

  “How so?”

  Rosalind thought a moment, unsure of how she was going to explain to him what had just occurred. Finally she spoke, “I feel funny inside. My limbs become weak and I...” His hitched breath caused her to stop speaking. She looked at him curiously, but when he didn't say anything, she continued, “I see these wisps of translucent color swirling towards me, almost beckoning me to them. I've never touched them, but I wonder what would happen if I dared.”

  “Is that all that happens?” he asked.

  “Yes, that's all. When the wisps leave I feel faint, drained of all my strength, like now.” Turning imploring violet eyes on him she asked, “What could it mean?”

  Terric rubbed one hand over his chin methodically, as if it would somehow help him think more fully. “Are you sure it only occurs when I am around?”

  “Certain. The first time it happened was upon our first meeting in the woods, the day you found me searching for cudworth berries. That's why I was lying in the grass when you approached. I hadn't the strength to rise.”

  “Curious,” he said, still rubbing his chin, his eyes taking on a faraway look. When his gaze came into focus, there was humor dancing in his eyes. “It could only mean one thing—you are hopelessly in love with me.”

  Rosalind gasped, her face burning with heat. She could feel the blush rise from her throat and pour over her face. “What an audacious thing to say! I don't even know you, how could I be in love with you? ”

  Terric started laughing then. He stood, reaching forth one hand to assist her, which she took reluctantly. “I'm only just jesting. Your strange episodes are most likely a result of poor nutrition and too much sun.”