Devlin. Erin Yorke
of hiding in the kitchens with a woman when a battle beckoned just the other side of the door. He had to make Alyssa see that such behavior was impossible for him, to make her understand what he was about to do.
He turned to her in the eerie glow of the banked fires. She was a golden maid now. Placing his thumb beneath her chin, he raised her face to his.
“’Tis not that I’m ungrateful, Alyssa Howett,” he began, his husky voice melodic and almost tender, “but there’s no help for it. We’ve lost. I must go out to meet my enemy.”
“Wouldn’t you rather go out the door that leads to the trench surrounding the castle and find a horse awaiting you?” Alyssa asked, her eyes caressing Devlin’s face, every plane, every rugged masculine contour.
“The devil you say!”
As the banging on the door grew louder and more insistent, Devlin didn’t hesitate to trail Alyssa down the staircase to the storeroom. He should have been ecstatic to have the possibility of freedom so near, yet somewhere in the back of his mind, in the portion that did not deal with the immediate problems of survival, Devlin knew something was wrong. But things were happening too quickly, and he ignored the feeling as he easily moved the chests of grain and found the exit Alyssa had promised. He entirely disregarded his uneasiness as he put his shoulder to the door and forced it open, then wriggled through a narrow tunnel hardly wide enough to allow his shoulders room to pass. Whatever it was that was disturbing him could be dealt with once safety had been reached.
And then, he was outside, and he could think of nothing other than the liberty he had so miraculously been granted. Already he envisioned himself riding through the forests and across the mountains, freer than the winds that would play against his face and ruffle his hair.
Crawling to the top of the trench, he saw a slim hand appear from the darkness to lie beside his own.
“The horse should be tethered behind yon stand of trees,” Alyssa informed him, scrambling up the deep, earthen walls.
Immediately, Devlin and Alyssa began to run, low to the ground, praying all the while that the swirls of rising mist would keep them safe from detection. Reaching the trees, they found that there was, indeed, a horse waiting.
The castle was coming quickly awake, the sound of running guards ready for battle issuing from behind the walls. Devlin swung himself up into the saddle, and looked down at the woman, little more than a girl, who had saved his life. He would remember her forever, standing here in the moonlight, her skirts lost in the smoky mist. There was so much to say to her, and so little time. He could not seem to find the words, and perhaps it was best that he could not.
Alyssa, however, had no such trouble.
“Give me your hand, Devlin, and help me up. Why are you looking at me with such shock? There’s no time to tarry.”
“What are you doing? You’ve got to go back to your father. You can say I took you hostage and released you once I cleared the castle.”
“Go back!” she echoed, her face a study in dismay and bewilderment. “Fie, I can’t do that now! They saw me leading you by the hand and mayhap heard me directing your flight as well. I can’t return unless you want me to find my head upon the block. They know I helped you escape.”
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