Page 31 of Dark Rival

Royce shook him off. “Ceit, a chamber for Lady Ailios,” he told a passing maid as he started across the hall. As he passed Ailios, she jumped to her feet, wide-eyed.

“Where are you going?” Ailios asked, appearing stricken.

He didn’t answer. She wouldn’t be pleased if she knew.

CHAPTER FIVE

“WHAT CAN I BE OFFERIN’ YE, my lady?” the pretty blond housemaid asked.

Allie looked grimly around the stone chamber. A plain bed with four thick posts, covered with wool blankets and a thick fur, was against the wall. Two rustic wood and wicker chairs faced a hearth, where a fire burned. A small wolf skin was on the floor near the bed; the rest of the stone floor was bare. The only attractive piece of furniture in the room was a handsome carved chest by the bed, with brass studs in an interesting design, a pitcher and mugs set on it. The windows were small and narrow and the light outside was dull, indicating that the sun was finally setting. She shivered, already cold in her heart as well as her bones.

“My lady?”

Allie turned. A plaid in Royce’s colors—hunter-green, black and silver—was folded over the back of one chair. She took it and wrapped it around her trembling body. She thought about how dirty she was. “Is a hot bath at all possible?”

The blond smiled, as if relieved. “Aye, ye’ll have yer bath an’ a good supper, too.” And shyly, she curtsied. “My name be Ceit, if ye need anything else.”

Allie raced after her as she went to the door. “Wait.”

Ceit paused, surprised.

Allie had to take a breath. All of her composure was in shreds and worse, she felt despair. “Which of you is his mistress?” Every maid she’d passed on her way upstairs had been young and pretty. It was quite the coincidence.

Ceit’s eyes widened; she blushed. “He doesna keep a mistress, my lady.”

Allie didn’t believe it. “Are you going to tell me he lives like a monk?”

Ceit’s color increased. “He be a man, lady, an’ our lord. He has whomever he wishes.”

Allie hugged herself. She should not care. The medieval Royce was not even remotely like Royce in the twenty-first century. A gulf of six hundred years separated them, and in that time, a man could and would change, becoming entirely different. The Royce she had left a moment ago was barbaric to the bone. He gave new meaning to the word heartless.

When he had left the hall she had known, with all of her being, that he had gone out to get laid. And she was in disbelief.

He didn’t want her. He emanated hot, sexy lust every time he came close. Virility dripped from his body like sweat dripped from other men. But he didn’t want her, otherwise, a barbarian like that would have come on strong. It was the final straw.

Ceit hesitated and left.

Now what?

She stumbled to the chair and curled up there. The fire could not warm her. She had never had such heartache. But she had never been in love before. Was this how her boyfriends and lovers had felt, when she had eventually ended things? She hoped not! She had always tried to be kind when saying goodbye. She had always cared. And Tabby had put a few of her exes under a new love spell.

No one should have to feel this way.

She started to cry.

She tried to remind herself that the man who was downstairs somewhere, undoubtedly with another woman, in the heat of really amazing sex, was not the man she loved. The man she loved was dead. She had watched him die before her very eyes, fighting the evil Satan had sent to hunt them all everywhere, in every time. The only problem was, she knew with her heart that they were one and the same.

What was she going to do?

She had spent less than twenty-four hours with the modern Royce, but she had fallen in love with him. He was the love of her life; she loved him even now and she would never get over him—nor did she want to.

There wasn’t ever going to be anyone else. No one else could possibly compare to her golden warrior. She’d remain faithful to him and his memory until she died.

Except, she wasn’t dead yet and this wasn’t over. Time travel opened up all kinds of possibilities. Her tears ceased and she sat up straighter. That love was worth fighting for. Why was she wallowing in hurt?

What had Tabby said again—exactly?

Allie breathed deeply, trying to think, her determination returning. Tabby had said her life would be turned upside down—and she had been right. She had said someone would die—and Royce had been murdered shortly thereafter. But the Sun had lain beneath Death on the table. From the ashes, there will be a new day.