Honor's Splendour

Chapter Three

They journeyed into the north, riding hard and fast through the remainder of the night and most of the next day, pausing only twice to give their horses respite from the furious pace the baron set. Madelyne was allowed a few moments privacy, but her legs could barely hold her weight, making the task of seeing to her personal needs an excruciating ordeal, and before she had a chance to stretch her protesting muscles, she was lifted onto Duncan 's steed again.

Because there was safety in their large number, Duncan decided to follow the main road. It was a sorry broken path at best, with overgrown thicket and naked branches making the way a continual challenge to the most fit of knights. The men's shields were up most of the time. Madelyne, however, was well protected, safely embraced beneath Duncan 's cloak and armor.

The soldiers were well served by their heavy equipment, save for those who wore the open-faced conicals and rode with bare hands, and the wilderness had little effect on them other than to slow down their progress somewhat.

The torturous ride didn't let up for almost two days. By the time Duncan announced that they would spend the night in a secluded glen he had spotted, Madelyne was firmly convinced he wasn't human. She had heard the men refer to their leader as a wolf and understood the odious parallel well enough; Duncan wore the outline of that terrible beast of prey in his blue and white crest. She fantasized now that her captor's mother must have been a demon from hell and his father a great, ugly wolf, and that was the only reason he could keep up such a grueling, inhuman pace.

By the time they stopped for the night, Madelyne was sick with hunger. She sat on a boulder and watched the soldiers care for their horses. A noble's first concern, Madelyne decided, knowing that without his steed, the knight would be completely ineffective. Aye, the horses came first.

Small fires were started next, with eight to ten men surrounding each, and when all the fires had been ignited, there were at least thirty separate flames, all outlining the weary shoulders of men ready for rest. Last came the food, a meager offering consisting of crusty bread and yellowed cheese. Horns filled with salty-tasting ale were also passed around. Madelyne noticed the soldiers only drank a sparse portion, though. She thought caution might have overridden their desire to indulge, for they would surely need their wits about them this night, camped as they were in a vulnerable position.

There was the ever-present danger of roving bands of men, displaced misfits who had turned into vultures waiting to pounce on anyone weaker than they, and there were wild animals roaming the wilderness, too, with much the same intent.

Duncan 's squire was ordered to see to Madelyne's needs. His name was Ansel, and Madelyne could tell from the frown on his face that he had little liking for his assignment.

Madelyne consoled herself with the knowledge that each mile north was a mile closer to her own secret destination. Before Baron Wexton interfered with her plans, Madelyne had been planning for her own escape. She was going to journey into Scotland to her cousin Edwythe's home. She realized she'd been naive to think she was capable of such an undertaking. Aye, she realized her folly now, even admitted that she wouldn't have lasted more than a day or so on her own, riding the only mare in Louddon's stable that wouldn't unseat her. The mare, swaybacked and quite old, wouldn't have had the stamina for such a journey. Without a strong horse and suitable clothing, the escape would have been a form of suicide. And the hastily drawn map from Simon's faulty memory would have led her in circles.

Though she admitted it was a fool's dream, she decided she'd have to hold on to it. Madelyne grasped at the glimmer of hope simply because it was all she had. Duncan surely lived within shouting distance of Scotland 's border. How much farther could it be to her cousin's new home? Perhaps she could even walk there.

The obstacles would overwhelm her if she allowed them leverage. Madelyne pushed reason aside and concentrated instead on the list of what she'd need. A capable horse came first, provisions second, and God's blessing last. Madelyne decided she had the order of importance twisted, put God first and horse last, when she caught sight of Duncan moving to the center of the camp. Lord, wasn't he the biggest obstacle of all? Aye, Duncan, part man, part wolf, would be the most difficult obstacle to get around.

Duncan hadn't said one word to her since they'd left Louddon's fortress. Madelyne had worried herself sick over his fiercely made statement that she now belonged to him. And just what was that supposed to mean? She wished she had the courage to demand an explanation. Yet the baron was so cold, so remote now, and much too frightening for her to approach.

Lord, she was exhausted. She couldn't worry about him now. When she was rested, she'd find a way to escape. It was the duty of a captive, wasn't it?

She knew she was unskilled in such matters. What good was it that she could read and write? No one would ever know of her unusual ability, as it was highly unacceptable for a woman to have such schooling. Why, the majority of noblemen could not write their own names. They relied on the holy men to do such meaningless tasks for them.

Madelyne certainly didn't blame her uncle for her lack of training. The dear priest had taken great pleasure in teaching her all the ancient stories. Her favorite was the tale about Odysseus. The mythological warrior had become Madelyne's companion when she was a young girl and terribly frightened all the time. She'd pretend Odysseus was sitting beside her during the long, dark nights. He helped her ease her fear that Louddon would come and take her back home.

Louddon! Even his black name made her stomach tighten up. Aye, he was the true reason Madelyne lacked all the skills necessary for survival. She couldn't even ride a horse, for God's sake. He was to blame too. Her brother had taken her riding a few times, when she was six years old, and Madelyne still remembered the outings as clearly as if they'd taken place the day before. Why, she'd made such a fool of herself, or so Louddon screamed, bouncing around the saddle like a clump of hay barely tied in place.

And when he realized how frightened she was, he'd tied her to the saddle and slapped the horse into racing through the countryside.

Her terror had excited her brother. It wasn't until Madelyne finally learned to mask her fear that Louddon stopped this sadistic game.

For as long as she could remember, Madelyne knew her father and her brother disliked her, and she tried every way she knew how to make them love her just a little. When she turned eight years old, she was sent to Father Berton, her mother's younger brother, for a short visitation that turned into long, peaceful years. Father Berton was the only living relative on her mother's side of the family. The priest did his best to raise her, and he constantly told her, until she almost believed him, that it was her father and her brother who were lacking, not her.

Oh, her uncle was a good, loving man, whose gentle ways spilled over into Madelyne's character. He taught her many things, none of them tangible, and he did love her, as much as any real father could love his daughter. He explained to her that Louddon despised all women, but in her heart Madelyne didn't believe him. Her brother cared about his older sisters. Both Clarissa and Sara had been sent to fine manors to gain their proper education, and each had an impressive dowry to take to their marriages, although only Clarissa had married.

Father Berton also told Madelyne that her father wanted nothing to do with her because she looked so much like her mother, a gentle woman he'd married and then turned against almost as soon as the vows had been exchanged. Uncle didn't know the reason for her father's change in attitude, but placed the blame on his soul all the same.

Madelyne barely remembered the early years, though a warm feeling filled her when she thought about her mother. Louddon hadn't been there very often to taunt her, and she'd been well protected by her mother's love.

Only Louddon held the answers to her questions. Perhaps he'd explain it all to her one day and then she'd understand. And with understanding would come the healing, wouldn't it?

Lord, I must put these dour thoughts aside, Madelyne decided. She scooted off the boulder and then walked around the campsite, keeping well away from the men.

When she turned and went off into the dense forest, no one followed, and she was able to take care of her body's demands. Madelyne was on her way back when she spotted a small stream. The top was crusted over but Madelyne used a stick to break through the ice. Kneeling down, she washed her hands and her face. The water was frigid enough to make her fingertips wrinkle, but the clear liquid tasted wonderful.

Madelyne felt someone standing behind her. She turned, so quickly she almost lost her balance. It was Duncan towering over her. "Come, Madelyne. 'Tis time to rest."

He didn't give her time to answer his command but reached down and pulled her to her feet. His big, callused hand enveloped both of hers. His hold was firm, yet his touch gentle, and he didn't let go of her until they'd reached the opening of his tent, a strange-looking affair consisting of wild animal skins braced into an arch by thick, unyielding branches. The skins would block the rising wind. Another gray fur had been placed on the ground inside the tent, obviously meant to be used as a pallet. The glow from the nearest fire cast dancing shadows on top of the skins, making the tent look warm and inviting.

Duncan motioned for Madelyne to get inside. She quickly complied. She couldn't seem to get settled though. The animal skins had absorbed much of the ground's dampness and Madelyne felt as if she were draped upon a block of ice. Duncan stood there, his arms folded against his massive chest, watching her try to get comfortable. Madelyne kept her expression contained. She vowed she'd die before offering him one word of complaint.

All of a sudden Duncan pulled her to her feet again, very nearly upsetting the tent in his haste. He took her cloak from her shoulders, knelt down on one knee, and spread the garment on top of the animal skins.

Madelyne didn't understand his intent. She had thought the tent was for her, but Duncan settled himself inside, stretching out to his full length, taking up most of the space. Madelyne started to turn away, infuriated over the way he'd claimed her cloak for his own comfort. Why hadn't he just left her back at Louddon's fortress if he meant to freeze her to death, instead of dragging her halfway across the world?

She didn't even have time to gasp. Duncan snared her with lightning speed. Madelyne fell on top of him and let out a groan of protest. She'd barely gotten fresh air and new outrage back into her chest before Duncan rolled to his side, taking her with him. He threw his cape over the two of them, trapping her inside his embrace. Her face was up against the base of his neck, the top of her head caught just under his chin.

Madelyne immediately tried to get away, horrified by such an intimate position. She used every ounce of energy she possessed, but Duncan 's hold was too strong to be broken.

"I cannot breathe," she muttered against his neck.

"Yes you can," Duncan answered.

She thought she heard amusement in his voice. That infuriated her almost as much as his overbearing attitude. How dare he decide if she could breathe or not?

Madelyne was too upset to be frightened. She suddenly realized her hands were still free of restraint. Madelyne slapped his shoulders until her palms were stinging. Duncan had removed his hauberk before entering the tent. Only a cotton shirt covered his massive chest now. The thin material was stretched snugly over his wide shoulders, outlining his thick muscles. Madelyne could feel the strength radiating through the soft fabric. Lord, there wasn't an ounce of fat to grab hold of and pinch. His skin was as inflexible as his stubborn nature.

There was one distinct difference, however. Duncan 's chest felt warm against her cheek, almost hot, and terribly inviting to snuggle up against. He smelled good, too, like leather and male, and Madelyne couldn't help but react. She was exhausted. Aye, that was the reason his closeness was having such an unsettling effect on her. Why, her heart was racing.

His breath heated the side of her neck, comforting her. How could that be? She was so confused; nothing was making sense to her anymore. Madelyne shook her head, determined to shake the sleepy feeling invading her good intentions, and then grabbed hold of his shirt and began to pull on it.

Duncan must have become bored with her struggles. She heard him sigh just seconds before he trapped her hands and slid them under his shirt, flattening her palms against his chest. The thick mat of hair covering his warm skin made her fingertips tingle.

How could she feel so warm when it was so cold outside? His nearness was an erotic, sensual pull to her senses, flooding her with feelings she hadn't known she possessed. Aye, it was erotic, which certainly made it sinful, obscene, too, because his pelvis was smashed up against the junction of her legs. She could feel his hardness there, nestled so intimately against her. Her gown proved inadequate protection against his manhood, and her inexperience gave her no protection at all against the strange, bewildering feelings he provoked. Why didn't she feel sickened by his touch? In truth, Madelyne didn't feel sick at all, only breathless.

A horrid thought entered her mind and she gasped out loud. Wasn't this the hold a man used when he coupled with a woman? Madelyne fretted over that thought a long moment and then discarded the fear. She remembered the woman had to be flat on her back, and though she wasn't certain of the exact way of it, she didn't believe she was in real danger. She'd overheard Marta visiting with the other servants and remembered that the coarse woman had always begun every lusty adventure with the remark that she had been flat on her back. Aye, Madelyne recalled with acute relief, Marta had been most specific. "Flat on me back I was," she always began. Madelyne regretted now that she hadn't stayed to hear the rest of the woman's bold tales.

Lord, she was lacking in that area of her education too. She got angry then, for a decent lady shouldn't have had such a worry anyway.

It was all Duncan 's fault, of course. Did he hold her so intimately just to mock her? Madelyne was close enough to feel the strength in his powerful thighs trying to flatten her own. He could crush her if he had a mind for it. Madelyne shivered over that picture and immediately quit her struggles. She didn't want to provoke the barbarian. At least her hands protected her breasts. She was thankful for that much. Her gratitude was short-lived, however, for as soon as she thought to be appreciative, Duncan shifted his weight, and then her breasts were plastered up against him as well. Her nipples hardened, shaming her all the more.

Duncan suddenly moved again. "What the devil…" He roared the unfinished question against Madelyne's ear. She didn't know what caused his outburst, only that she was going to be deaf for the rest of her life.

When Duncan jumped, muttering an expletive she couldn't help but catch, Madelyne moved away. She watched Duncan out of the corner of her eye. Her captor had lifted himself up on one elbow and was searching for something underneath him.

Madelyne remembered the squire's dagger she'd hidden in the lining of her cloak just as Duncan lifted the weapon.

She couldn't help but frown.

Duncan couldn't help but grin.

Madelyne was so surprised by his spontaneous smile, she almost smiled back. Then she happened to notice his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. She decided she'd best not smile after all.

"For a timid creature, you're proving to be resourceful, Madelyne."

His voice was so mild. Had he just given her praise or was he mocking her? Madelyne couldn't make up her mind. She decided not to tell him she'd forgotten about the weapon. He'd certainly think her foolish if she admitted that truth.

"You're the one who captured me," she reminded him. "If I've proven to be resourceful, it is only because I am honor bound to escape. 'Tis the duty of a captive."

Duncan frowned.

"Does my honesty offend you, milord?" Madelyne asked. "Then perhaps it would be best if I didn't speak to you at all. I would like to go to sleep now," she added. "And I'm going to try to forget you're even here."

To prove she meant what she said, Madelyne closed her eyes.

"Come here, Madelyne."

The softly issued command sent a tremor of dread down her spine, and a knot settled in the pit of her stomach. He was doing it again, she decided, scaring the breath right out of her. And she was getting sick of it. Madelyne didn't believe there was much fear left inside her. She opened her eyes to look at him, and when she saw the dagger was now pointed in her direction, she realized she still had quite a store of fear left after all.

What a coward I am, Madelyne thought as she slowly moved closer to Duncan. She rested on her side, facing him, just a few inches away. "There, does that please you?" she said. She guessed it hadn't pleased him much at all, when she suddenly found herself flat on her back, with Duncan looming over her. Why, he was so close, she could actually see the silver flecks in his gray eyes.

Eyes were supposed to echo the thoughts of the mind, Madelyne had heard, yet she couldn't tell what Duncan was thinking. That worried her.

Duncan watched Madelyne. He was both amused and irritated by the confusion of emotions she unwillingly showed him. He knew she was afraid of him. Yet she didn't weep or plead with him. And Lord, she was beautiful. There was a sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Duncan thought the flaw most appealing. Her mouth was appealing too. He wondered how she'd taste to him and could feel himself becoming aroused just by the thought. "Are you going to stare at me all night?" Madelyne asked.

"Perhaps I will," Duncan answered. "If I wish to," he added, smiling at the way she tried not to frown at him.

"Then I'll have to look at you all night," Madelyne answered.

"And why is that, Madelyne?" His voice was soft and husky.

"If you think to take advantage of me while I sleep, you're mistaken, Baron."

She looked so indignant. "And how will I take advantage of you, Madelyne?"

He was smiling at her now, a true grin it was, reflected in the depths of his eyes.

Madelyne wished she'd kept silent. Lord, she was putting obscene ideas into his head.

"I'd rather not discuss this issue," she stammered out. "Aye, forget I said anything, if you please."

"But I don't please," Duncan answered. "Do you think I'll satisfy my lust this night and take you while you rest?"

Duncan lowered his head until he was just a scant breath away from Madelyne's face. He was pleased to see her blush, even grunted his approval.

Madelyne was as still as a doe, trapped by her own worries.

"You wouldn't touch me," she suddenly blurted out. "Surely you're too tired to think of such… and we are camped out in the open… nay, you wouldn't touch me," she ended.

"Perhaps."

And just what did that mean? She saw the mysterious gleam in his eye. Was he gaining true pleasure over her obvious distress.

She decided she wasn't going to be taken advantage of without giving him a good fight. With that thought in mind, she struck him, aiming her fist just below his right eye. Her mark was true, but she thought she received more pain than he did. She was the one who cried out in pain. Duncan didn't even flinch. Lord, she'd probably broken her hand and all for nothing.

"You are made of stone," Madelyne muttered.

"Why did you do that?" Duncan asked, his tone curious.

"To let you know I'll fight you to the death if you try to have your way with me," Madelyne stammered. She thought it was a brave speech, but the force of it was ruined by her shaky voice. She sighed, discouraged.

Duncan smiled again. "To the death, Madelyne?"

From the horrible look on his face, Madelyne decided he found the idea pleasing.

"You jump to conclusions," Duncan commented. " 'Tis a flaw, that."

"You threatened," Madelyne countered. " 'Tis a bigger flaw, that."

"Nay," he argued. "You suggested."

"I'm sister of your enemy," Madelyne reminded him, pleased by the frown her reminder provoked. "You can't change that fact," she added for good measure.

The tension went right out of her shoulders. She should have thought of that argument sooner.

"But with my eyes closed, I'll not know if you're Louddon's sister or not," Duncan said. "It's rumored that you lived with a defrocked priest and that you played the whore for him. Yet in the dark, that wouldn't bother me. All women are the same when it comes to bedding."

She wished she could hit him again. Madelyne was so outraged over such evil gossip, her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that Father Berton was in good standing with his God and his church, and that he happened to be her uncle as well. The priest was the only one who cared about her. The only one who loved her. How dare Duncan stain her uncle's reputation?

"Who told you these stories?" Madelyne asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Duncan could see how his words wounded her. He knew then that all the stories were just as he suspected. False. Madelyne couldn't hide her pain from him. Besides, he'd already recognized her innocence.

Madelyne was shattered by his malicious words. "Do you think I'm going to try to convince you that the gossip you've heard about me isn't true?" she asked. "Well, think again, Baron. Believe what you will. If you think I'm a whore, then whore I am."

Her outburst was vehement, the first real display of anger Duncan had witnessed since taking her captive. He found himself mesmerized by those incredible blue eyes, flashing with such indignation. Aye, she was innocent all right.

He decided to end their conversation so that Madelyne would be saved further distress. "Go to sleep," he commanded her.

"How can I sleep with the fear you'll take advantage of me during the night?" she asked.

"Do you actually think you'd be able to sleep-through it?" Duncan asked. His voice sounded incredulous. Lord, she'd insulted him, yet he realized she was too naive to know it. Duncan shook his head. "If I decide to take advantage of you, as you describe it, I promise to wake you first. Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

He pulled Madelyne into his arms, forcing her back up against his chest. His arm circled her in an intimate way, resting against the swell of her breasts. And then he threw the cloak over both of them, determined to dismiss her from his mind.

It was easier said than done. The scent of roses clung to Madelyne, and she felt so soft against him. Her nearness all but intoxicated him. Duncan knew it would be a long while before sleep claimed him.

"What would you call it?" Madelyne's question came to him from beneath the cover. Her voice was muffled but he caught every word. Duncan had to recount their conversation before he thought he understood what she was asking him.

"Taking advantage?" he asked, clarifying her question.

He felt her nod. "Rape." Duncan muttered the foul word against the top of her head.

Madelyne jerked upward, hitting his chin in her haste. Duncan 's patience was wearing thin. He decided he never should have spoken to her. "I have never forced myself on any woman, Madelyne. Your virtue is safe enough. Now, go to sleep."

"Never?" Madelyne whispered her question.

"Never!" Duncan shouted his answer.

Madelyne believed him. Odd, but she felt safe now and knew he wouldn't harm her while she slept. His nearness was starting to comfort her again.

She was soon drugged sleepy by his warmth. She snuggled closer to Duncan, heard him groan when she wiggled her backside against him to get more comfortable, and wondered what was bothering him now. When he grabbed hold of her hips and held them still, she assumed her movement was keeping him awake.

Her shoes had fallen off and she slowly slipped her feet between Duncan 's calves to gain more of his heat. She was careful not to wiggle too much for fear she'd irritate him again.

His warm breath heated the side of her neck. Madelyne closed her eyes and sighed. She knew she should resist the temptation, but his warmth pulled at her, lulled her. She remembered one of her favorite stories about Odysseus and his adventures with the Sirens. Aye, Duncan 's warmth wooed her just like the song those mythological nymphs sang to lure Odysseus and his soldiers to certain destruction. Odysseus had outwitted the Sirens by stuffing wax into the men's ears to block out the irresistible sound.

Madelyne wished she were as clever and resourceful as the epic warrior.

The wind whistled and moaned a forlorn tune around her, but Madelyne was well protected, held tightly in the arms of her captor. She closed her eyes and accepted the truth then. The Siren's song had captured her.

She awakened only once during the night. The back of her was warm enough, but her chest and arms were freezing. Ever so slowly, so as not to disturb Duncan, Madelyne turned in his arms. She cushioned the side of her cheek on his shoulder and slipped her hands beneath his shirt.

She wasn't completely awake, and when Duncan began to rub his chin against her forehead, Madelyne sighed with contentment and snuggled closer. His whiskers tickled her nose. Madelyne tilted her head back and slowly opened her eyes.

Duncan was watching her. His expression was unguarded, so warm and tender. His mouth looked hard though; she wondered what it would feel like if he kissed her.

Neither said a word, but when Madelyne moved toward Duncan, he met her halfway.

Madelyne tasted as good as he knew she would. God, she was soft, inviting. She wasn't completely awake and therefore didn't resist him, though her mouth wasn't opened enough for him to penetrate. Duncan solved that problem quickly by forcing her chin down with his thumb, and then thrust his tongue inside before Madelyne could guess his intent.

He caught her gasp and gave her his groan.

When Madelyne timidly used her own tongue to stroke his, Duncan rolled her to her back, settling himself between her legs. His hands cupped the sides of her face, holding her still for his tender assault.

Madelyne's hands were trapped under Duncan 's shirt. Her fingers began to caress his chest, teasing his skin into a fever.

Duncan wanted to learn all her secrets, to satisfy himself, then and there, and all because Madelyne was so wonderfully responsive.

The kiss turned so hot, so consuming, Duncan knew he was in danger of losing control. His mouth slanted over Madelyne's again and again, his tongue penetrating, stroking, taking. God, he couldn't seem to get enough of her.

It was the most incredible kiss he'd ever experienced, and he wouldn't have stopped if she hadn't started trembling. A soft whimper came from deep in her throat. The sensual sound nearly pushed reason aside.

Madelyne was too stunned to react when Duncan abruptly pulled away from her. He rested on his back, with his eyes closed, and the only indication he gave of their kiss was his harsh, uneven breathing.

Madelyne didn't know what to do. Lord, she was so ashamed of herself. Whatever had come over her? She'd acted so wanton, so… common. And she could tell from the frown on Duncan 's face that she hadn't pleased him.

Madelyne felt like weeping.

" Duncan?" She thought her voice sounded as if she were already crying.

He didn't answer, but his sigh told her he'd heard her call his name.

"I'm sorry."

He was so surprised by her apology, he turned back to his side to look at her. The ache in his loins was painful and he couldn't keep the scowl from his face.

"Sorry for what?" he demanded, irritated that his voice sounded so harsh.

He knew he'd frightened her again, because Madelyne immediately turned her back to him. She was shaking enough for Duncan to notice too. He was about to reach out and pull her back into his arms, when she finally answered him.

"For taking advantage of you."

He couldn't believe what he'd just heard. It was the most ridiculous apology he'd ever been given.

A slow smile overcame Duncan 's scowl. Lord, he felt like laughing now, would have given in to the urge, too, if Madelyne hadn't sounded so damn sincere. His desire to guard her feelings kept his laughter contained, however. Duncan didn't understand his reason for wanting to protect her feelings, but it was there, nagging at him.

He let out a long-drawn-out groan. Madelyne heard him and immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was thoroughly disgusted with her. "I promise you, Duncan, it won't happen again."

Duncan put his arm around Madelyne's waist and pulled her up against him. "And I promise you that it will, Madelyne."

She thought it sounded like a vow.