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“You speak as though you have committed grave crimes,” her sire said.

  “I have. Among them, I abducted Addy.”

  ***

  His heart pounding against his ribs, Garrett waited for Lord Mortimer to respond.

  While Garrett experienced shame at his confession, he was also relieved. A crushing weight had been lifted from his soul. After long years, his secrets were finally going to be unburdened. He didn’t expect forgiveness, but at least he might see justice done.

  Lord Mortimer’s gaze bored into him. “You are responsible for abducting my daughter?”

  “I am.”

  “Garrett was forced to kidnap me,” Addy said, so beautiful in her poise and resolve. “Denman left him no choice.”

  Ransford, his sword still unsheathed, shook his head. “Lies. All lies.”

  Obviously unsure who to believe, Lord Mortimer asked, “Garrett, how do you know Ransford?”

  “I once served as his squire. I became indebted to him, and by doing so…felt obliged to do his bidding.”

  “That included abducting a lady.”

  Guilt gnawed, but Garrett wouldn’t shift blame to anyone else. He wanted to be worthy of Addy; therefore, he must accept responsibility for what he’d done. He nodded.

  “You must arrest Denman, Father.”

  “I am still not clear on exactly what happened, or why—if Garrett’s claims are true—Ransford would have you kidnapped.”

  “They are not true,” his lordship insisted, while his gaze shifted to Stockton and the guards at the cavern entrance. “Garrett is trying to taint my good name. Surely you will not accept his word over mine.”

  “Garrett and I will explain all,” Addy said. “For now, Denman must be locked in a dungeon cell until he can be sent to London to be tried and punished.”

  “A dungeon?” Ransford’s face tautened with fury. “How dare you suggest such a thing?” Straightening his rumpled garments, he strode for the cave entrance.

  Garrett moved to stop him, but Lord Mortimer shook his head. “I cannot simply arrest a peer. I must have proof.”

  Determination glowed within Garrett. He wouldn’t allow Ransford to go unpunished. He must act for those who’d been murdered, or who were too fearful to report his lordship’s treachery. “I will get you proof. To start, I will write down all that I witnessed.”

  Corwin sniffled then dried his face with his sleeve. “I can tell what I saw and heard.”

  “We also have a letter,” Addy said, “written by someone who copied Garrett’s handwriting. ’Twas hidden at the abandoned castle where I was held captive.” Glancing at Ransford, she added, “The missive was to be discovered at a timely moment and presented to authorities to place all blame for the kidnapping on Garrett.”

  “Since the sheriff worked with Ransford years ago, and likely is still conspiring with him, we might see what we can do to persuade him to talk,” Garrett said.

  Lord Mortimer nodded. “Very well. Men, detain his lordship—”

  Stockton lunged at the guards. His blade struck again and again.

  Ransford, also lashing out with his sword, hurried to the horses.

  “He cannot get away!” Addy cried, but Garrett was already in pursuit. As Ransford shoved his booted foot into a stirrup to swing up onto the mount, Garrett yanked him backward. With a grunt, his lordship landed on his back on the sand.

  Drawing his arm back, Garrett slammed his fist into the older lord’s jaw. “For Addy,” he growled. Ransford struggled, but Garrett, giving full rein to his rage, walloped him again. “For Corwin.” The older lord’s body went limp.

  As Garrett shook out his fist and stood, he saw Stockton sprawled on the sand. Blood soaking the front of his tunic, the dead thug stared skyward.

  Lord Mortimer drew near with several guards. “Ransford is not dead, I trust.”

  “Only unconscious, milord.”

  “Good, because he will answer for his crimes.”

  Addy smiled at Garrett. “He certainly will.”

  Garrett’s heart warmed, for he loved the hope brightening Addy’s expression. How he wished he could make her happy every day for the rest of his life.

  “Ransford and his lackeys will be taken to my dungeon,” Lord Mortimer said, before his gaze met Garrett’s. “Until I know exactly how you were involved in recent events, and what you did to my daughter, you also will be my prisoner.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Give me another word to spell out loud.”

  Seated against the dungeon’s mildewed wall, Garrett glanced at Corwin. The lad was sitting cross-legged against the opposite wall, close to the iron bars fronting the cell. Light from reed torches in the below-ground prison’s main room kept away only some of the dank shadows.

  “I can give you another word,” Garrett said, “but I do not understand why you will not accept Addy’s offer. You could be enjoying the day with her rather than in this cell with me.”

  Corwin shook his head. “I told you, I am staying with you.”

  “You are a child. You are in no way responsible—”

  “You never left me,” the boy said firmly. “You had many chances in France and here in England, but you stayed by my side. Now, I will do the same for you.”

  A lump lodged in Garrett’s throat. He appreciated the lad’s loyalty, but a prison was no place for a child. After Garrett had been brought to Ferringstow Keep and had his wound stitched, he’d given a written account of what he’d witnessed years ago at the seashore and what he knew of Ransford’s activities, as well as descriptions of the men he’d worked alongside. Then he’d been escorted to the dungeon. The boy had entered the cell as well and had refused to come out until Garrett was freed.

  “So. Another word,” Corwin said, shoving hair out of his eyes.

  “Traitor,” Ransford said from the cell across the dungeon; his men were imprisoned in cells farther along. Standing at the bars and glowering, he said, “’Tis what we call a man who forsakes his loyalties, as you did to me today.”

  Garrett stood, longing to be able to pummel Ransford again. “How about criminal?” he answered. “’Tis most fitting for the current situation.”

  “C-r—” Corwin began.

  Ransford slammed his hands against his cell bars. “I will see you suffer, Garrett,” he snarled. “I will take that wretched boy. I will cut—”

  “You will never harm him. I swear, upon my soul.”

  The older lord chortled. “You cannot stop me. With my connections, I can find any man in England, destroy lives—”

  “—and intercept missives?”

  His lordship’s gaze sharpened.

  “’Tis clear to me now. You prevented me from getting the letters from the king, telling me of my inheritance.”

  Ransford clapped. His lips twisted into a mocking grin. “I even paid soldiers to ensure you died in battle, but regrettably, they failed. When I heard you were in England—”

  “You contrived a plot that would ensure I did not survive.” The bastard, though, hadn’t known of Garrett’s love for Addy, which had changed everything.

  The dungeon door creaked open, and moments later, Addy and her sire entered. Her gaze immediately went to Garrett, and his heart turned over in his chest.

  She hurried to the cell and linked her fingers through the bars. He pressed his hand over hers.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Aye.”

  Corwin jumped to his feet. “I was practicing my spelling.”

  “Well done,” she murmured. Ah, God, even in the murky dungeon, she was beautiful.

  Lord Mortimer approached the cell. “Earlier today, Garrett, my men and I confronted the sheriff. Upon realizing he had no hope of evading punishment, he decided he had best cooperate. He led us to the barn you mentioned in your account.”

  “Did you find any stolen goods?”

  “Indeed, we did. Crates of items were being prepared for sale. I apprehended the workers, who, after some
persuasion, shared what they knew. My men are following other leads, but I have more than enough proof to keep you in prison, Ransford, for years.”

  The older lord’s face contorted with outrage. “I will deny involvement. I will—”

  “’Tis your right. However, the sheriff will be accompanying you to London. I doubt the king will be lenient, especially after tallying up all of the taxes he lost on the goods you stole.”

  The imprisoned peer’s face whitened. He turned away from the bars.

  When Corwin leaned against Garrett’s side, he put his arm around the lad’s small shoulders. While Garrett was glad Ransford and his cohorts would face justice, sadness also weighed upon him. Although Lord Mortimer hadn’t said such, Garrett expected to be taken to London, too, to be put on trial for working with Ransford. He’d appeal to the king for leniency—after all he’d done for the sovereign, he prayed he’d be granted freedom—but even so, he might not see Corwin for many days.

  ’Twould be a harsh punishment indeed.

  And to not be able to see or touch Addy….

  His fingers instinctively tightened on hers. She seemed to be following his thoughts, for she blinked hard, as though fighting tears.

  Lord Mortimer retrieved a key ring. Metal jangled as, to Garrett’s surprise, Addy’s sire unlocked the cell door.

  No armed guards were standing by to escort Garrett, even though he was a prisoner who’d be considered dangerous. What was going on?

  “Come,” his lordship said. “There are matters to discuss in the great hall.”

  ***

  Twilight cast lengthening shadows over the bailey, where servants were finishing chores for the day. Emerging from the dungeon, Addy drew in some fresh air. Night would fall soon, but somehow, the moment held a sense of anticipation; something important was about to transpire.

  What, though, she didn’t know. Her father had been away from Ferringstow most of the day, which she’d spent catching up with Gwen. Her dear friend was fine, thankfully, although she’d been very worried about Addy.

  When Addy’s sire had returned to the keep, he’d told her to accompany him to the dungeon. She’d learned what the men had discovered at the same time as Garrett.

  What her sire hadn’t said, though, was what was going to happen to Garrett. Surely the fact he’d risked so much to reveal Ransford’s treachery would be considered when deciding his fate. Mother Mary, but she couldn’t bear the thought of him spending the rest of his life in gaol. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d never give up on their love, just as Aelwen had been forever true to Kael.

  Garrett stepped out of the dungeon with Corwin in tow. He looked uneasy—exactly how she felt. She held out her hand to him and he took it, gently kissed it, before linking his fingers through hers. Following her sire, they walked in silence to the forebuilding and climbed the stairs up to the great hall.

  The cavernous room was empty, apart from dogs slumbering by the hearth. A large jug of wine waited on a trestle table, along with an assortment of meats, cheeses, slices of cake, and fruit.

  Wide-eyed, Corwin stepped out from behind Garrett. “Look at that feast!”

  “Eat what you like,” Addy’s sire said.

  “T-thank you, milord.” The lad rushed to the table and snatched up a piece of honey-glazed cake filled with raisins and dried apples; with an appreciative groan, he stuffed the whole piece into his mouth.

  Garrett grimaced. “Sorry. He is still learning his manners. Corwin—”

  Addy pressed his arm. “Another day, we can correct him.”

  “We?”

  She’d never been more certain about any decision. “Aye. Together.” Sensing her sire’s assessing gaze, Addy turned to him. He should know of the vow she and Garrett had made in the cave, but first, she’d ensure her true love’s freedom. “Garrett should not be punished in any way. He—”

  “Addy,” Garrett said, clearly uncomfortable.

  A wry smile touched her sire’s lips. As he moved to the table, he said, “Truth be told, I agree that Garrett should be held blameless.”

  Beside her, Garrett sucked in a sharp breath.

  “I am glad you feel that way, Father.”

  “What, may I ask, made you reach your decision, milord?” Garrett asked.

  “For a start, your circumstances. After reading your account, I do believe that as a fourteen-year-old with limited means, you had no choice but to obey Ransford.” Her sire picked up the jug and, as Corwin munched on a large piece of spice cake, he poured red wine into three silver goblets. “Also, for more than a year, by order of the king, I tried without success to uncover who was smuggling goods from ships wrecked along Cornwall’s coast. With the sheriff and Ransford identified as leaders of the treachery, I see why evidence was difficult to come by.”

  “’Twas the perfect scheme for them,” Garrett said, accepting a filled goblet. “That is, until I returned to England and Ransford realized I posed a threat.”

  “Thanks to your heroism, Garrett, I can fulfill my obligation to the crown. With Ransford now known to be a criminal, I will also insist that Addy’s nuptials be cancelled.”

  Thank God! She’d wondered how best to approach her sire about annulling her betrothal, but now she didn’t have to. She exhaled a sigh of relief.

  “I also feel,” her father added, “that for his outstanding bravery, Garrett deserves to be pardoned. I will write to the sovereign and send my letter along with the evidence gathered, and ask that the pardon be granted.”

  “I planned to seek an audience with the king to explain my actions,” Garrett said, his tone warm with gratitude. “I have no doubt, though, that your support will be of great benefit to me. Thank you.”

  “Aye, thank you,” Addy agreed.

  “May I offer a toast, then, to our successes this day and to Garrett.” Her sire raised his goblet. They clinked the vessels together, and then they drank. The piquant wine slipped down Addy’s throat and warmed her like a kiss ripe with promise.

  Oh, but she was suddenly warm all over. She could hardly believe the magnificent man standing beside her was hers, but he had pledged himself to her in the cave. When the moment was right, she must inform her father that she wanted to wed Garrett as soon as possible.

  Garrett wiped glistening wine from his bottom lip. “If I may, milord, there is one other matter for which I seek your support.”

  “Go on.”

  Addy caught her breath, for once again, she sensed that heady anticipation.

  “I ask your permission to wed Addy.”

  Her heart soared.

  “I loved her from the first day I met her,” he continued, his words roughened with emotion. “I was too young and troubled years ago to commit to marriage. Meeting her again made me realize how much I still love her, and that…I want her to be my wife.”

  “Oh, Garrett.” Joyful tears filled Addy’s eyes.

  “I am ready, now, to run a castle and have a family. I want to be…the man she deserves.”

  Addy sniffled as tears slipped down her cheeks.

  “She will also become a mother to Corwin,” her sire pointed out, while the boy, stuffing his mouth with more spice cake, glanced their way.

  “I will love Corwin like my own son.” Addy wiped her eyes and then set down her goblet; her hands were shaking, and she didn’t want to spill the wine. “Father, please say you agree. I love Garrett, and have already pledged myself to him. He and I touched the red-colored stain together in the cave of Kael and Aelwen.”

  “As your mother and I did, long ago,” her father said softly.

  “You did?”

  “Aye, and we had many happy years together.” Her sire smiled. “I trust you and Garrett will be equally as happy.”

  “Does that mean you…grant your permission?” She had to be absolutely certain.

  He chuckled. “I do.”

  She squealed and flung herself into Garrett’s arms. His free arm went around her, and he hugged her tight. />
  “I love you, Addy,” he murmured. He kissed her lips, and her eyes slipped shut. Oh, how glorious, to be kissed with so much love. Their life together would truly be remarkable.

  At last, with a sigh, she drew back to arm’s length. “I love you, Garrett.”

  Corwin careened into them. His arms wrapped around them both as he said, “Now I will have two parents, not just one.”

  “Is that all right with you?” Garrett asked, ruffling the lad’s hair.

  The boy grinned. “’Tis.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Three weeks later

  Garrett rode his destrier over the drawbridge into the bailey of Blyndwick Castle, Corwin and Addy riding a short distance behind. Servants were gathered in the bailey: men, women, and children who smiled and bowed to him as he rode past.

  Pride and trepidation churned inside him, truly powerful feelings. Yet, after the past weeks, during which he, Addy’s sire, and men-at-arms had escorted Ransford, the sheriff, and other prisoners to London, he was ready to settle in one place for a while. After all, these were his folk now. This was his fortress, taken from Ransford and granted to Garrett by order of the sovereign.

  His home.

  A place that, admittedly, held some difficult memories for him, but he would replace those with new memories founded on love.

  The salty sea breeze tangled his hair as he halted his horse and slid from the saddle. A keen pulse of excitement ran through him as he turned to see Addy and Corwin dismount. Addy was perfectly capable of getting down from her mare herself, despite her long gown and cloak, but he crossed to her and, setting his hands at her waist, helped her down.

  She turned to face him, wisps of hair dancing in the breeze and her face glowing. The betrothal ring on her finger—a ruby as blood red as the stain in the cavern—gleamed as she swept hair back behind her ear.

  Ah, God, but he couldn’t wait to wed her. Only one more week, and they’d be man and wife. They’d be married in the church in St. Agnes to be followed by a grand celebration at Blyndwick.

  “Are you all right, Garrett Thurlow, the new Lord of Blyndwick Castle?” she asked, her eyes shining.