Page 175 of Historical Hotties
He gestured at Carington. Understanding the implication, Burle leapt onto the wagon bed and hovered over the pair.
“Creed,” he muttered. “Lord Richard approaches. He must not see Lady Carington in your embrace.”
Creed’s response was to hold on tighter. Carington put her hands on his head; his face was still buried in the valley between her breasts. She was trying to pry his head away from her bosom but was not doing a very good job; he held fast.
“English,” she tried to sound firm but gentle. “Let me go. I willna go far, I promise.”
After a split second delay, Creed came to his senses and released Carington. Burle lifted her over the side of the wagon and into Stanton’s waiting arms. The pale young knight took her by the elbow and led her a respectable distance away from the wagon; it would do no good to remove her completely for Lord Richard caught sight of her as he entered the outer ward. He was marching purposefully with the papal legate by his side. Stanton merely took her off to the side, hoping Lord Richard would not demand to know why she was there.
Unfortunately, Lord Richard moved right for her. He seemed completely oblivious to the sorrow happening in the wagon. His handsome face was lined with grief and anger as he focused on Carington.
“You,” he jabbed a finger at her. “Your father was a part of this… this murder raid. What do you know about it?”
He was practically yelling at her. His tone caused Creed’s head to snap up, his dusky blue eyes narrowing when he saw his liege moving for Carington in a threatening manner. Suddenly, he was vaulting over the side of the wagon, but Burle and Galen physically restrained him from going any further.
“Nay,” Burle hissed in his ear. “Hold fast, Creed. The lady can handle herself.”
Creed was an enormous man; they had all been privy to the damage he could do at one time or another when threatened or provoked. He had done a tremendous amount of damage in the battle at Hexham. It took both Galen and Burle to keep him at bay.
Creed’s face was tight with emotion. “I will not permit him to blame her for this.”
Burle shushed him as the scene before them began to unfold. “Wait,” he muttered. “Just wait and see what happens.”
As Richard yelled at her, Carington looked over his shoulder to see Creed literally fly out of the wagon. Burle and Galen were there to stop him, but it was clear that he was unsteady. It would not do for Creed to snap and strangle his liege, so she struggled to remain calm so that he, in turn, would stay calm.
“I am sure I know nothing about it, m’lord,” she replied evenly. “My father never did divulge his battle plans to me. I am as surprised and horrified as ye are and I would sincerely apologize for this havoc.”
Richard was furious; that much was clear. He scowled at her. “Your father pledged you as a hostage against his good behavior,” he snarled. “You have only been with us for a few days and already he breaks his word. Do you realize what that means? It means that I can do with you as I wish. I can throw you to the dogs if it pleases me.”
In the grip of Burle and Galen, Creed flinched and it took every ounce of strength the two knights possessed to hold him still. It was like trying to pin down a raging bull. But Carington, when faced with a very angry English lord, remained quite calm. Given her fiery nature, her cool demeanor was astonishing.
“Ye may indeed, m’lord,” she agreed. “But to do so would not only bring the wrath of my father, but of every other Scotsman from Carter’s Bar to Edinburgh. Would ye risk complete destruction to punish me for something ye know I had nothing to do with?”
By the time she was finished, her hands were on her hips and she was scolding him. Richard glared back at her, his mouth working angrily, but knowing in the midst of his fury that she was right. Still, Ryton’s death was a blow and he felt the need to blame someone. She happened to be a convenient target who, in fact, was not going to take his abuse.
With a growl, Richard turned away from her and moved to the wagon. He noticed that Burle and Galen were holding on to Creed but assumed it was because of his grief. He went to the knight and put his hands on his enormous shoulders.
“Creed,” he sounded strangely calm for a man who had been enraged not moments before. “I am so sorry for your loss. I cannot express what Ryton meant to me, to all of us. My heart aches for him as it would for a brother.”
Creed was still unsteady, still in the grip of Burle and Galen. But he forced himself to calm, shrugging off the hands that held him.
“I must take him home,” he said quietly. “My father will expect him to be buried at Throston Castle.”
“Of course,” Richard nodded, peering in the wagon and spying a very unsavory sight. His features twisted with disgust before turning back to Creed. “Go whenever you wish and take whatever resources you need. But hurry back; as callous as thismay sound, you are now the commander of my army and I will require your services back at Prudhoe as soon as possible.”
Creed just stared at him, a thousand different responses rolling through his head. At the moment, he could not comprehend taking over for his brother although he knew he was the logical choice. Still, it was the furthest thing from his mind. He only had two prevalent thoughts; the death of his brother and Carington. He could not think beyond that.
A small figure in brown robes suddenly passed into his line of sight, moving to the edge of the wagon. Creed recognized Massimo as the priest observed the dead knight and proceeded to make the sign of the cross over Ryton’s body. Then he began praying in Latin. Creed suddenly fell to his knees, Burle and Galen with him, as they bowed their heads in prayer. Richard followed shortly, as did Stanton and Carington. They all went to their knees as the papal legate began reciting prayers for the dead.
It was a dismal group that listened to Massimo’s prayers. Carington had no idea how long they were on their knees, praying for Ryton’s soul, when Creed suddenly stood up and walked in her direction. She barely had time to look up before he was pulling her to her feet and making his way back to Richard.
Carington was actually afraid as Creed practically dragged her across the dirt. She’d never known the man to be anything but gentle with her and his forceful manner was terrifying. But Creed was resolute as he faced his liege with Carington in hand.
“Since Laird Kerr saw fit to attack Hexham and I lost my brother as a result, I am laying claim to Kerr’s daughter,” he said. “I will not accept anything less.”
He said it in a tone that no one had ever heard from him before, especially Richard; the man’s eyes widened as he looked between an anxious Carington and a deeply serious Creed.
“What do you mean ‘lay claim’?” Richard asked.
