“What reason did he have?”

“None.” Horace shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, he didn’t give any. He just robbed me.”

“Well, if he did, you came out better for it with that there necklace in your pocket…at least, you would have, had you not been caught.”

Chapter Sixteen

“LIER…IN. Lier…in.”

Lenore frowned in her sleep and rolled her head on the pillow.

“Where are you? Lierin? Lierin? Come out. Come out, wherever you are….”

She was hiding behind a carefully clipped shrub partially shaded by the manor looming in the background. A young red-haired girl crouched beside her, and they hid their giggles behind cupped hands as the stalking footsteps came closer…closer….

“Lierin…Lenore…Come out…Come out…Wherever you are…”

“Shhh,” she warned her sister silently as that one threatened to burst into laughter and reveal their hiding place. “He’ll hear you and find us both.”

The tiny pebbles of the walk crunched beneath the hesitating footfalls that came ever nearer. Seeing a large manly shadow fall on the lawn nearby, they pressed against the shrub and waited, scarcely daring to breathe as the shadow advanced with slow, stealthy caution. It disappeared by degrees, falling onto the shrub that protected them as the man stepped closer; then quite unexpectedly a bee flitted past their noses, startling them both, and they scrambled away with cries of alarm.

“Aha!” The man’s voice rang with a note of victory as he leaped past the shrub and pounced into view.

Torn from her dream, Lenore came upright with a gasp and stared about the dark room in wide-eyed panic. The face in the portrait! It was the one in her dream!

“Lierin…Lierin…”

A sudden chill shivered along her spine as she pressed back upon the pillows, trying to listen above the frantic beating of her heart. Had the voice come from her dreams to torment her?

“Lierin…Lierin…”

“Ashton!” The name flared through her brain as she realized that what she had heard was not part of any fantasy. It was Ashton! She threw herself from the bed and, flinging open the french doors, ran out onto the veranda. Reaching the balustrade, she searched frantically for the one she was sure was there. But where? Her eyes swept outward, anxiously skimming over the grounds and sweeping the shoreline; then a sound close by made her look down. There, right below her, the tall figure leaned against a post of the lower porch.

“Ashton!” she whispered as loud as she dared. “What are you doing down there?”

“Ah, my Lady Lierin! My queen!” he called up and, stumbling away from the house, swept her a gallant bow. “I have finally beckoned you from your chambers. My soul despaired at my lengthy failure, but now it doth quiver at the sound of your voice.”

“Go home, Ashton,” she beseeched him plaintively. She was afraid of what Malcolm would do if he caught him. “Go back to your tent, and go to bed.”

“Nay, my lady.” He shook his head and staggered unsteadily as he moved farther away from the house. “Not without your soft, sweet breast to lay my head upon.”

“Malcolm is here!” she reminded him frantically.

“I know! ’Tis what torments me! I have maneuvered my knights as best I can, but he’s still there, holding my queen.”

“Malcolm will hear you! Please go away,” she implored. “He’ll kill you if he finds you here!”

Ashton reflected upon her statement a moment and leaned his head back with a chuckle. “He’s welcome to try, my lady.”

“He will! And you’re in no condition to defend yourself,” she chided.

“Ah, madam, I’m not concerned with defending myself. ’Tis you I’ve come to protect. I lay my sword at your feet, offering my services…my arm for your protection…and whatever portion of me you may have need of.” He lurched forward a step. “I shall defeat the arrant foe who has captured you, and then I shall take you to yonder castle.” Sweeping an arm about, he indicated the huge tent that had become his home. “Lo! It sits there awaiting your presence, my lady.”

“I can’t go with you!” she cried in a whisper. “Now go back…please….”

“I shall not leave without my lady,” he firmly declared, striking a stance of stubborn resolution for a brief second before he stumbled and fell spinning to his knees. There he collapsed like a limp rag doll with his long legs tucked beneath him and his hands braced upon the turf. Hanging his head between his shoulders, he moaned, “Lierin…Lierin…Come down to me.”

The agonized plea wrenched her heart, and she felt a rush of tears at the misery she heard in his tone. Anxiety was there, too, filling her with dread as she hurried to the stairs, but her love beckoned. Her bare feet flew down the stairs, and ignoring the last step, she leaped to the lower level and raced out onto the front lawn. There, she paused in some confusion, for he was gone. Vanished! She glanced about, her eyes searching the moonlit yard for the manly form she knew only too well.

“Ashton?” she called in a whisper. Cautiously she moved toward a small grouping of trees on the east side. “Ashton, where are you?”

Suddenly she gasped as she was seized from behind, and an arm, slipping about her waist, swirled her around. Another gasp was startled from her as she was lifted from her feet and brought firmly against a long, hard body. Eager lips covered hers, and she was engulfed in the intoxicating essence of brandy. The kiss went through her, flicking awake her senses and making her stirringly aware of his manhood as her thighs slid against his.

“Ashton, behave,” she pleaded breathlessly as his mouth sank to her throat. She closed her eyes and rolled her head away, trying to escape those burning kisses that branded her. Her world tilted crazily in a spinning orbit as his mouth dipped down and caressed her breast through her gown. She shivered as the moistness seeped through the light cloth, and the glowing coals of desire began to spill like a lava flow through her body. His hand was on her buttock, clasping her close, and at the bold, manly touch of him, a hunger grew in the softness of her.

“I want you, Lierin,” he rasped in a whisper. “I can’t go back without you.”

The realization seeped down in her that the longer she resisted going back to his tent with him, the better his chances were of being shot. Get him back and leave him where he would be safe, she thought.

“Ashton, I’ll go back with you,” she whispered unsteadily as his lips moved to the opening of her gown. “Just put me down, and I’ll take you back.”

“I’ll carry you.” Setting her to her feet, he swept an arm down to lift her up again, but she laughed and placed a hand on his chest, halting him.

“We’ll both go rolling if you do.” Her fingers traced along his cheek as she gently chided, “You’re too drunk, my darling.”

“I’ve had a few,” he admitted with a slightly injured air.

“A few!” With a soft chuckle she slid her hand down along the lithe muscles of his arm and settled it upon the waiting palm. The long, thin fingers entwined with hers in a loving grasp as she whispered, “You’ve had more than a few, my darling.” She gently tugged at his arm, and they staggered side by side across the moonlit yard. He was wont to stop often and pull her into his embrace, but she urged him on with a sweet promise, “In the tent, my darling.”

Reaching their destination, Ashton swept back the tent flap, allowing her to enter first. With eyes that were wide in amazement, Lenore roamed around. She had not expected such grandiose appointments and was rather awestruck. Several lamps illumined the interior, lighting her way around the furnishings and over the rich carpets. The gold silk hangings of the bed shimmered against the glow of the bedside lamp, and it was to this resting place she came to stand and stare. It was difficult to take in all the wealth at once.

Ashton watched her from beneath his brows with that sort of manly-boyish hesitation that was so much a part of his charm. How could she deny him anything when he looked at her like that? But she must…for his own good.

“I love you,” she whispered with a tender smile, “and I’ll stay for a while, but I need more time to clear my thoughts.”

Ashton released a disappointed sigh in slow, halting breaths and gave a reluctant nod, turning away. The brown shoulders gleamed as he drew off his shirt, and Lenore stared at the dark expanse, remembering when she could freely stroke her hand over the wide breadth of his shoulders and along his lean, muscular ribs. Becoming aware that she was being affected by the sight, she averted her gaze and reddened profusely. If he only knew how she desired him…!

Staggering around, Ashton dropped into a nearby chair and tugged off his boots, then leaned his elbows on his knees and hung his head in mute dejection. The posture pierced Lenore’s heart, but she curbed the feeling that grew in her, for it was a dangerous longing. Moving with whisper-soft tread, she drew back the bed hangings and folded down the luxurious coverlet. She followed in the same order with the sheets and smoothed the folds with her hands as she pulled them snug, then stood back with a hesitant glance in his direction.

“Come to bed, Ashton,” she softly implored. He looked up with an unspoken inquiry, but she lowered her eyes before his probing gaze. “I’ll sit with you for a while; then I must go back.”

With a sigh Ashton raised himself from the chair and made his way unsteadily around the end of the bed and to the far side. There he turned his back to her and, dropping his trousers, sat down on the bed. He made no further attempt to comply with her wishes, and in curious wonder Lenore went around the bed and found his eyes closed beneath a harsh frown, as if a pain had started throbbing between his brows.

“Ashton?” Her voice was whisper-soft.

The lashes lifted abruptly, and he fixed her with a direct stare; then, releasing his breath, he slowly reclined upon the pillows. Lenore felt a warming in her cheeks and a quickening in her blood as her eyes skimmed over the manly length of him. She had often compared him to a gladiator of olden days, with his long lithe muscles rippling beneath his bronze skin. He was no less impressive lying naked upon the bed. It was not a new sight for her, but one that she realized she had missed viewing during the time they had been separated. In wifely compassion, she bent and, tugging the trousers off his feet, swung his long legs onto the bed. She pulled a sheet over his nakedness and tidied his clothes, wistfully caressing them with her hand as she hung them on his silent valet. Blowing out the lamps, she returned to the bedside across from where he slept, and sat cross-legged upon its softness. Her eyes wandered around the darkened interior, and she felt consumed by its blackness. Carefully she lay back upon the pillows, making a firm resolution not to sleep, and put her mind to the task of remembering….

“Whither will I wander…Thither will I roam…’Round the world, and back again, this way will I go…Marching down the steep hill…Tramping up again…Ever will I ramble…’Til I’m home again….”

The sea breezes whipped the auburn hair with its breath, setting its softly curling length and the long ribbons adorning it into a wild, frenzied dance. Watching her sister frolicking far ahead of her on the beach, she giggled and slipped her small hand inside the much larger one that brushed her arm. The tall man reached down and lifted her high upon his shoulder, much to her squealing delight, and they chortled together as he pretended to be her steed and galloped after her sister. Her thin fingers curled in the mass of dark hair, seeking security at the lofty height, and she knew without looking down that his face was squarish…and his eyes were deep green….

The woods were dense and darkly shaded as the two girls crept forward. Her sister, a young woman barely fifteen, gestured with a finger across the lips, and they stilled. She waited, searching with her eyes; then she saw the deer they had stalked lift its head in alert attention. His ears twitched to catch the sounds around him; then with a start he glanced behind him. His large eyes stared a moment into the shaded coppice, until a faint snap of a twig surprised him, and he bounded away in the opposite direction. Disappointed, the two girls moved together; then a familiar voice called from where the twig had snapped: “Lenore…Lierin…” A man clothed in a brown hunting suit and toting a long gun beneath his arm came tramping through the trees. “Lenore…Lierin…where are you?”

“Lierin?” the voice sighed against her ear before warm lips brushed her cheek. “Lierin…?”

“Yes?” she sighed and, rolling onto her side, snuggled against the warm body.