Page 65 of Wolf's Keep
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Mmm?”
“Lothair isn’t the only one you’re keeping things from.”
Gaharet halted so abruptly she ran into him. He spun around, placing a hand on each of her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, her face pale, her green eyes troubled. “I will explain everything, Erin. I promise. Right now, I need to get you hidden.”
“Because I assaulted an archeveque?”
“Among other things.”
“Among other things? Whatexactlydoes that mean? What other things?”
His breathing stalled. What had Renaud told her?
“Trust me Erin.Please.”
He would tell her, he must tell her, but not here, not now. He caught a scent, another presence hovering just out of sight. A keep guard sent to follow him? To report back to Lothair?L’enfer.Their chances of sneaking out of the keep were dwindling. With people coming and going along the corridors, a dead guard would draw attention.
Erin placed her hands over his, a hesitant, gentle touch drawing his focus back to her.
“I trust you Gaharet, but my life is on the line here, too, and you have some serious explaining to do. No more secrets.”
He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. She trusted him. He could not have asked for more. Nodding his agreement, he leaned in, took her mouth in a brief, chaste kiss. “No more secrets.”
Gaharet changed direction, leading her along the corridor and farther into the keep. He stopped in the kitchen, ignoring Lothair’s man keeping his distance, and had the cooks prepare a plate of food for them. He wound his way through the keep to the upper levels and found the room he searched for. Another keep guard hovered amongst the shadows. Lothair was taking no chances. Gaharet had never resented Lothair’s cunning intelligence more than he did right now. Leaving would be more difficult than he had thought but leave they would. He would bide his time.
He sent Erin through the doorway, following her, closing it and sliding the plank in place, barring the door. He had Erin with him, as secure as she could be for now. They had a few hours to fill before the keep went quiet for the night and Gaharet planned to use those hours well.
He placed the plate of food down and lit a candle from the brazier, moving about the room lighting the oil lamps.
“Are we safe here?” she asked. “I think I broke an archeveque’s nose. Surely he won’t allow that to go unpunished?”
Gaharet shook his head, giving her a reassuring smile. “I doubt Lothair will do anything about it. We have all wanted to hit Archeveque Renaud at one time or another. Considering his nefarious intentions,” he said, lighting the last of the oil lamps, “I imagine Renaud will not mention the incident.”
Despite his calming assurances, Gaharet was not so certain. Lothair had flogged men for lesser crimes than hitting a priest and would again if it suited his purpose. Renaud could prevail on Lothair to do what he had failed—confine Erin in the cell, attempt to force Gaharet to comply in exchange for Erin’s life. His mouth went dry and his stomach churned. An unthinkable choice, one he hoped to never have to make.
“Are you sure?”
Gaharet came to stand before her. “You are safe here with me, Erin.”
He cupped her cheek with his hand, brushing his lips over hers. His need for her roared to life, hitting him with a force that nearly sent him to his knees, an overwhelming imperative to make her his.Well, almost safe.
Perhaps she sensed it, felt the presence of his beast close to the surface, for she backed away from him, her breathing shallow. She wandered about the room, refusing to look at him, touching the jug of wine on the table, the goblets, running a hand along the wall and fingering the fabric of the bed covering. He moved to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders, her body trembling beneath his hands.
“Did Renaud say anything to you, Erin?”
Her breathing hitched, and her heart rate increased. He turned her toward him, and her gaze skittered away from him, her face flushing. He reached out, taking hold of her hand, and turned it palm up to reveal the blood.
“Here, let us take care of this.”
Gaharet led her to the table, sat on the stool, and moved her to stand between his thighs. He uncorked the wine and searched the room. “We need a cloth.”
“Why don’t you use this?” Erin held up her dress, revealing something stitched to it.
He frowned, peering at it, and threw back his head and laughed. “They would have to be theworstviolets I have ever seen. They are violets, are they not?”
She giggled, the tension easing a little from her body. “They’re supposed to be violets, yes. As you can see, embroidery is not a talent I possess. Just get the thing off so we can use it as a rag. It won’t be much use for anything else.”
Gaharet gripped the embroidered cloth and her dress and ripped them apart. He doused the rag in wine and, with gentle hands, he wiped the blood off her palm. “You really hit the archeveque de Tours?”
