And with those words ringing in her ears, he took her by the arm and led her into the keep.
~ * ~
Shanara paced her chamber, her mind in turmoil. She had to get away from here before it was too late. Save for the witch’s curse, marriage to Reyes would have been far more appealing than returning to her father’s keep, but she would not bear a child knowing that it would be cursed to run with the wolves at the full moon. How could Reyes expect it of her? How could he consider it himself?
Too upset to eat, she refused the tray that Beatrice brought her later that evening, flinched when she heard Beatrice turn the key in the lock. One way or another, she had been naught but a prisoner since Reyes had defeated her uncle in battle. Nay, even before that, she mused. Being a woman, she had never truly known the kind of freedom her brothers enjoyed. They were allowed to hunt and fight, to drink and cavort, while she was left at home with her needlework.
With a sigh, Shanara went to the window and stared down at the yard below. She had to find a way out of here or, at the very least, get word to her father. Surely he would come to her rescue rather than see her wed to his enemy!
Dropping down onto the window seat, she rested her chin in her hands and stared into the gathering darkness. She wouldn’t be here now if she hadn’t gone to visit her uncle.
Rising, she began to pace the floor once again. She was still pacing when Alyce came in to light the fire and turn down her bed.
Alyce helped her out of her dress and undergarments, helped her into a long white sleeping gown, and then glared at her. “Why did you have to come here?”
“I assure you, it was not my wish,” Shanara replied, startled by the girl’s insolent tone and sullen expression.
“Then why are you marrying Lord Reyes?”
Shanara sighed. It came as no surprise that the news had already spread through the keep. Did his servants also know that she had refused his offer?
Alyce reached for Shanara’s brush. “Lord Reyes deserves a woman who loves him.” She brushed out Shanara’s hair, her touch far less gentle than Beatrice’s. Laying the brush aside, she began plaiting it Shanara’s hair. “If you had not come here, perhaps…”
Shanara glanced over her shoulder. “Perhaps what?”
Alyce shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me, Alyce. It may be that I can help.”
A single tear slid down the maid’s cheek. “No one can help me.”
“I cannot help you if you will not confide in me.”
“I love him!” Alyce spoke the words in a rush, then clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening in horror. “Forgive me, my lady. Please do not tell him what I said!”
“Alyce, there may be hope for you yet.”
“How so? You are to wed in a fortnight.”
“I have no wish to marry Lord Reyes, only to return to my father.” Strange how, having said the words, she knew them for lies. “Can you help me?”
“There is a little chapel in a copse of trees behind the mews,” the maid whispered, as if she feared being overheard. “Meet me there in three hours.”
“But the door to my room…”
“I shall unlock it when it is time to go. Do not be late.”
~ * ~
Reyes paced the floor of the great hall, wondering what madness had possessed him to tell Shanara that they would be wed. He had vowed that he would never marry, thus putting an end to the curse that plagued him. But he had looked into Shanara’s eyes, felt her warm breath upon his face, tasted the sweetness of her kisses, and selfishly wanted more. He could not kill her and he could not let her go. At the time, his impulsive decision to marry her had seemed like the only sensible thing to do.
He turned at the sound of footsteps, surprised to see the young serving maid, Alyce, up so late.
“Is something amiss?” he asked.
“No, my lord,” she replied softly. She filled a goblet with wine and carried it to him. “You look troubled.”
He nodded as he accepted the drink. She was a pretty girl. It occurred to him that he had seen a good deal of her of late, and then he grinned inwardly. She was young and impressionable. No doubt she was infatuated with the lord of the keep. It had happened before.
