Guardian of Darkness by Kathryn Le Veque Page B

and he tossed it off, hearing it land several feet away. “’Tis all right, honey. Just relax. Relax and breathe.”
    She heard his words, soft and soothing, but she could not do as he asked.  She was ill, verging on a faint. Horrified beyond description, she went limp against him. The heaving had stopped for the moment but she the tears came.  Creed sighed heavily, with great regret, and held her tightly against him.
    “I am so sorry,” he breathed against her dark hair. “I did not know what had happened until it was too late. None of us did.”
    Carington’s hand was at her mouth, covering it, as she struggled to breathe. “I… I ate him!”
    It all came out as a strangled cry that cut him to the bone.  “I know, honey, I know,” Creed’s gloved hand was on her forehead, holding her head against his shoulder in an effort to both support and comfort her. “But I stopped you before you went too far. I am only sorry that I did not prevent the entire circumstance.”
    “You cooked him!”
    “Nay, lass, I did not cook him. I was burning the carcass and the men smelled the meat cooking and thought it was for eating. It was all a horrible mistake.”
    She wept as if her heart was broken. Creed heard footfalls crunching in the grass behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Ryton and Burle standing several feet away. His brother looked sickened while Burle just looked angry.
    “Get her up, Creed,” Ryton said quietly.  “Do not let her wallow in this. We must be on our way.”
    “Give her a minute, for Christ’s sake,” Creed snapped softly. “Keep moving. I will catch up to you when she has calmed sufficiently.”
    Ryton’s gaze was fixed on his brother, apparently trying to keep the hysterical hostage from running any further by the grip he had on her.  As he watched, the lady heaved again and more stomach contents ended up on the mashed grass.  With a heavy sigh, he motioned Burle back to his charger.
    “Do not be too long, then,” he said to his brother. “Lord Richard is expecting us around noon. We cannot delay.”
    Creed gave him a brief nod, feeling the lady’s body convulse under him once again as her stomach struggled to bring up more bile. “It would be wise if you kept Jory out of my sight,” he rumbled. “I cannot guarantee my control if I see him.”
    “I will take care of d’Eneas, have no doubt,” Ryton replied. “You tend the lady. And do not be over long with it.”
    Ryton’s footfalls faded across the grass, leaving Creed and Carington alone in the cluster of trees.  Creed returned his focus to the lady, no longer retching but struggling to calm her breathing.  The hysteria of tears had faded to a soft weeping and he continued to hold her in silence, feeling tremendously guilty.  At some point, he started to rock her gently, as one would an ill child.  It was an instinct and nothing more. Carington clung to his big arm with one hand, the other still pressed against her mouth.
    “Ye knew,” she said it so softly that he hardly heard her. “That is why ye took the meat away from me last night. Ye knew and ye didna tell me. Ye knew and said nothing!’
    There was an accusation in the statement. Creed rocked back on his heels, shifting her so that she was sitting on his thighs and off of the cold, dirty grass.
    “You still would not know if I had any say in the matter,” he said frankly. “I did not expect Jory to announce it to you but I suppose I should have. The man is an idiot.”
    “I told ye that I dinna like him,” her voice was a breathy whisper. “He is evil and malicious. Any man who would… who would.…”
    She was beginning to sob anew and he shushed her softly. “No more,” he said. “You are going to make yourself ill.  What is done is done. It is over with. You have expelled your grief and we must move beyond it.”
    “I canna move beyond it. Could ye?”
    “I would have to if there were more important things on the horizon, such as