He was always between Eric and Marissa. Always positioning his body in such a way that the other man could never get a full, good look at her.
There was a part of Marissa that was grateful for that. She did not want that man’s eyes raking over her. But it also meant that she was finding it difficult to get a good look at him.
She was in the dark about many of his movements or subtle looks. And that left her feeling on edge, like there was important information she was lacking.
So, she kept shifting. Each time Arthur adjusted his stance, she would move. Just a little bit, just enough that she could make out what was happening around them without having to expose herself fully to the wolf at their feet.
“I didnae care if Roald killed ye when I sent him,” Eric continued. His voice seemed almost amused, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. “I just told him to do whatever it takes to bring me Marissa. If he had to dispatch ye or yer entire clan, then so be it. As long as I had her.”
“Like I said before,” Arthur growled, “ye sent the wrong man.”
Eric huffed out a laugh, waving his hand dismissively. “Aye, I was gettin’ to that. So, when Roald didnae return when I thought he would, I gathered up some of me men and rode here. We had fully intended to stake our yer castle. Mayhap we would take one of yer servants captive, figure out a way to get inside and get to her.”
“But imagine me surprise when we stumbled upon ye on our way!” He clapped his hands together as if it was all one big, grand joke. “It was truly somethin’ special. Somethin’ that shows me that I’ve been right this entire time. That Marissa belongs with me. Because if she didnae, then God himself wouldnae have put her right here before me. Directly on me path. And do ye ken what else God intended?”
Marissa did not like what Eric was saying. She didn’t like it one bit. With each word the man spoke, his voice rose, sounding more unhinged. He seemed like a man completely undone, a man that had split entirely with reality. And such a man was dangerous, indeed.
“What did God intend?” Marissa asked.
It was her first time speaking since he’d first shown up, since she had demanded to know what he was doing here. But she couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted to get this all over with. To get him to stop speaking and drawing out the moment so she could at least find a way out.
Or find a way torun.
Eric’s expression darkened. “He intends for me to kill the man who took ye from me,” he growled. “An act to prove to him how much I deserve ye, and that I’ll do anythin’ to make ye me wife. Guards!”
At the final word, his arm moved as quickly as a flash. He drew a sword that had been sheathed at his side and pointed it directly at Arthur. His men rushed forward with a mighty yell, one that sent terror racing all the way into Marissa’s bones. Their eyes were not fixed on her, though. They were fixed on Arthur.
Just as quickly as Eric had acted, so had Arthur. He took the small hunting knife out of its sheath, holding it out in front of him with steady, confident hands.
There is nay way he can win this.
“Stay behind me,” he growled, just as the first guard reached him.
The yelling and the flurry of movement sent ducks squawking. Their cries mixed with the voices of the guards, grunting and yelling as they all advanced on Arthur.
It was absolute chaos. Marissa could hardly see what was happening as all the men converged on him.
She’d thought for certain that he would go down quickly. But somehow, he remained standing.
As someone would swipe for him, he’d expertly dodge, forcing them to move in and almost cut each other. Then, another one of them would move, blocking her view, and it would be chaos and confusion all over again.
She marked his safety with quick glimpses, nothing more than a flash of his tunic or a glance at his kilt.
I should run. They’re all distracted—mayhap I could escape.
Glancing around, she realized she didn’t see Eric. Maybe he was caught up watching the attack on Arthur? Or maybe he had joined it?
Either way, she thought that this might be her only shot.
If I can get away while they’re distracted, mayhap I can make it to the castle. I could get to Joseph and Arthur’s men. Mayhap I can save him.
It was that thought, that hope of being able to save the man who was currently fighting so desperately to save her, that finally overrode her fear.
Fisting her hands in her skirts, Marissa began to move. The shallow sand pressed against her boots, preventing her from running the way she desired. But that did not stop her from giving every last bit that she had.
She pumped her arms, the fabric of her skirts flailing around her. As she crested the top of the beach, finally getting to where sand gave way to grass, she cast one panicked glance over her shoulder.
The fighting was still going on. That much she knew from the grunts and cries that reached her ears. But she couldn’t make out much more than that.
