Page 153 of Historical Hotties
“Ask anyone. They will tell you the same thing. Sir Creed is not to be trusted.”
All Carington could think of at the moment was Creed’s passionate kiss, the way his deep blue eyes glimmered so warmly at her. He had made her feel special, safe. Now she was being told that his actions were quite the opposite. But rather than let her emotions flow freely, as was her nature, she steeled herself. She would not let these Sassenach wenches know her thoughts, her turmoil at the shocking words. Woodenly, she swung the cloak over her shoulders, realizing her hands were quaking and hoping neither lady could see it.
Without another word, she quit the chamber and headed down the stairs to the first floor. By the time she hit the entry, she was struggling against tears. But she would not show her feelings. It was a bright morning as she took the stairs faster than she should have, wiping furiously at the moisture around her eyes. It would not do for Creed to see her state and ask her what the matter was. She was not sure she could explain it to him.
But she could not believe what the Sassenach wench said. She would not believe it. Yet she had only known Creed a matter of days. It was not long enough to know his character. Julia had been at Prudhoe a long time; certainly long enough to know. As she drew close to the cluster of horses and men that were waiting to take her to town, Carington suddenly remember that Kristina had indeed tried to quiet Julia when the woman began to speak of Creed’s reputation. If there was no truth to it, why would Kristina have tried to stop her?
The tears of shock were giving way to the posture of confusion. Confusion gave way to belligerence. By the time she reached the group, she in no way wanted anything to do with Creed or their trip to town. She simply wanted to be alone, somewhere, to sort out her thoughts and the horrors that this endeavor to Prudhoe had brought her. But there was no privacy for her, not back in the shared chamber with evil Julia. She wasafraid of what she might do to the woman should she say another word to her. Carington was lost in her tumultuous thoughts when Creed approached her.
“Ready, my lady?” he asked pleasantly.
His deep, rich voice broke through her fogged mind. Carington looked up at him, gazing into the dusky blue eyes and realizing that she was fighting off tears. She lowered her gaze; anything so that she would not have to look at him.
“I… I dunna want to go to town,” her voice was strangely tight.
His brow rippled. “Why not? I thought….”
She shook her head vigorously. “Nay,” she realized that her words were quivering. “I want… I want to go to the chapel. I want to pray.”
His face did not change expression, but his piercing eyes were riveted to her. “Now?”
“Aye. Now.”
Creed continued to stare at her, wondering why her demeanor had changed so drastically. A few minutes ago she had been warm and agreeable. Now she would not even look at him. He took a step closer.
“Cari,” he said quietly. “What is the matter?”
She shook her head and took a step back. She opened her mouth to deny that anything was wrong but a sob bubbled up instead. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep any more sounds from escaping.
“Nothing,” she hissed through her fingers. “Just leave me be. I want to go to the chapel.”
He glanced around at the escort he had assembled. Quite a few men wait for them, including Burle and Stanton, mounted on their chargers. Creed held up a discreet hand to the two knights, indicating for them to wait. The men acknowledged hiscommand with a nod. Creed then took Carington gently by the elbow.
“Come along, my lady,” he said quietly.
She was not tactful about yanking her elbow from his grasp. Creed let his hand drop as they walked together towards the gatehouse chapel. In silence they mounted the stone steps. At the door, Carington came to an abrupt halt.
“I will go in alone,” she said, still not looking at him.
He did nothing more than open the door for her. Carington went inside and he closed the door softly behind her. Now the tears came as she turned to the closed door, knowing Creed was on the other side and feeling such anguish that she could hardly describe it. She could feel the sobs coming and she knew he would hear them. She did not want him charging into the chapel demanding to know what the matter was. Her eyes fell on the old iron bolt and she threw it just as the first sob sprang forth.
On the other side of the door, Creed heard the bolt slide just as sounds of weeping filled his ears. His hand went to the old iron door latch, jigging it and realizing that Carington had locked herself inside.
“Lady Carington?” he did not want to draw attention and rattled the latch quietly. “Unlatch the door. What is wrong?”
Her response was to weep loudly. Puzzled, Creed began to grow concerned. “Cari, what’s happened?” he pounded on the door softly. “Open the door and let me in.”
Inside the brightly lit chapel with the sun streaming through its many-colored glass panes, Carington wept openly. Her back was to the door; she could feel Creed rattling it. She sank to her buttocks on the cold stone floor, her face in her hands, feeling days of confusion and anxiety gnaw at her. First she was forced to leave her home, then her beloved Bress was killed. Now Creed was apparently not the man of honor and chivalry that she believed him to be; she simply couldn’t take anymore.
Creed listened to her weep with deepening concern. She would not answer him and he truly could not fathom what the problem was. But women were confusing creatures he had never been able to decipher. He may have been a stellar knight, but he was not a particularly good mind reader when it came to the opposite sex. Strange thing was that he wanted to read Carington’s mind very much. She was upset and he had an overwhelming desire to know why. But his hand remained on the door latch, uncertain what to do.
“Sir Creed?”
A soft female voice met his ears. Creed looked over his shoulder, down the stone steps that led into the bailey, and saw Lady Kristina standing at the base. Her pale face and big blue eyes were laced with apprehension.
“My lady?” he stepped away from the door; he did not want her coming up the stairs and hearing the weeping. “How can I be of service?”
Kristina took the first two steps; Creed descended half the flight before she took another step to prevent her from ascending any further.
