Bringing Claire Home [Elinor's Stronghold 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

  Elinor’s Stronghold 4

  Bringing Claire Home

  A year ago, Paul took his sister Claire away to escape Lord Jeffrey’s attacks on the hamlets. Mitchell and Claire were in love, but Mitchell hadn’t asked her to marry him before she left. Now he aches for her, and goes in search of her to bring her back to his home as his bride. But no one has seen or heard of her, and the hamlet where she was to go is empty.

  Finally Mitchell meets Ivan, who takes him into the forest where Claire and Paul, and Ivan himself, have been living for the past year. But Ivan loves Claire, too, and Claire owes him her life. Mitchell suggests he and Ivan share Claire. Can this possibly work—two men with no tie to each other and the one woman they both love? And can they survive a dangerous journey home?

  Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 20,477 words

  BRINGING CLAIRE HOME

  Elinor’s Stronghold 4

  Berengaria Brown

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  BRINGING CLAIRE HOME

  Copyright © 2012 by Berengaria Brown

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-772-5

  First E-book Publication: June 2012

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Bringing Claire Home by Berengaria Brown from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

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  This is Berengaria Brown’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Brown’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  DEDICATION

  For Robin Hood, Alan Adale who told his story, and Howard Pyle who formalized it. Campfires can be truly romantic.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  This story is a fantasy. Although it is set in a medieval-type environment, it is not true historical fiction, and the land and time where the story takes place exists only in the pages of this series.

  BRINGING CLAIRE HOME

  Elinor’s Stronghold 4

  BERENGARIA BROWN

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  Mary was old. Older than anyone else in the valley. So old even she didn’t know how old she was. She could clearly remember Lord Huart being held up on the castle battlements as a newborn babe, his father shouting the news to the world, “An heir to the stronghold has been born!”

  Of course, Lord Huart was killed in battle two years ago, along with both his sons, and now his daughter, Lady Elinor’s twin infant boys were the heirs to the stronghold. Mary smiled. She much preferred Lady Elinor’s attitude to managing a situation. The lady had a way of thinking of unconventional solutions to problems. Just two summers ago, she’d made everyone learn to swim so they could flee over the river if they were attacked. And when they were attacked, some people had needed to swim. Mary smiled more broadly. Even she could swim now. Well, swim was probably an exaggeration. But she could make her way through water deeper than she could stand in, with a little help from her grandson Mitchell.

  Ah, Mitchell. Such a huge young man, and so caring of his old grandmother. His father would have been so pleased at the fine man he’d grown into. For a moment, she felt the same old sorrow at how her son, Mitchell’s father, had died after being gored by a wild boar. Then only two years later, his widow and Mitchell’s little brother had died of the coughing sickness. So many had died that year. Well, Mitchell had lived, and every day he made sure she had whatever she needed. Although her place was down toward the end of the lower tables, the servants always gave her soft food she could chew easily, and she knew this was because Mitchell insisted on it. All the serving girls looked up to him, but he wasn’t interested in any of them. She was almost certain he missed Claire. Claire’s brother had taken her from the stronghold to live with relatives, back when Lord Jeffrey was attacking the hamlets. Her brother farmed a piece of land quite distant from the stronghold and had preferred to leave rather than risk being attacked.

  Silly boy. They’d have been perfectly safe had they stayed. Ah well, she’d just have to look about her and find Mitchell a wife. Someone strong and healthy who would give her a great-grandchild before she died.

  * * * *

  Mitchell leaned his back against a tree, his breeches around his ankles, his hand tugging on his cock. Hard and harder still he pulled, wanting the bite of pain, needing the sharp reminder that Claire was gone and wasn’t coming back. He pictured her oval, smiling face, her pale-blonde hair like a cloud around it, swirling down her back in tangled tresses, her eyes sparkling, now blue, now gray, depending on the sunshine.

  Her breasts had filled his large hands, the nipples always hard little points when he touched them as he kissed her. She’d run to him and pressed into his arms, always enjoying his touch, letting him kiss her breasts and finger her cunt and her ass, although not permitting him to penetrate her with his dick.

  The land he farmed for his grandmother was good soil, productive, and he was young and strong. He was certain it would provide for her as well as for Old Mary and himself. But her brother had taken her away before he’d asked for her in marriage, and now she was gone, who knew where.

  Desperately he tugged
harder and faster on his cock, inching over the border into pain. Pain that matched the agony in his heart since she’d left. Deliberately he dug his fingernail into his cock, and the sharp jab brought him to the edge, his seed spurting from his cock over his hand and onto the ground. He pulled on his dick a few more times as more seed pumped out, and then he leaned breathlessly against the tree.

  The harvest was gathered in. A good harvest, not outstanding, but well enough. His grandmother was safe and cared for in the stronghold. Anything she needed, they provided, or if they didn’t, he could barter for some of his grain. There was no reason why he couldn’t go and look for Claire. Her brother had mentioned family at the far end of the valley. That was about a week’s walk, a little less if he was allowed to borrow a horse to ride. A horse would be useful if they’d moved on farther from the valley. If the family they’d visited had sent them elsewhere. And a horse would mean Claire could ride beside him as he walked back to the stronghold, once he’d found her. He would ask his lady’s permission to go look for Claire. It was decided. He would go.

  He wiped his hand and his cock on the grass, pulled his breeches up, then headed back to the stronghold.

  * * * *

  Lady Elinor’s husband, Lord Rhys, had loaned him an older horse, but one with plenty of stamina. “He’ll be no use if you need to outrun masterless men, but if you walk him, he’ll keep on going all day long,” said Lord Rhys.

  “I wish you well in your quest. Bring Claire back here again,” said Lady Elinor.

  His grandmother was equally forthright. “You’ve been as grumpy as a bear since she left. Travel as far as you need to find her. If you can’t return before winter, ask the local priest to send Father Augustus a letter telling us you’re safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

  “I love you, Grandmother.”

  “I love you, too, Mitchell. Your father would have been proud of the man you’ve become.”

  He packed a bundle of supplies onto the horse, waved, and was gone. The weather was still warm. It would be several months before it turned really cold, and surely that was more than enough time to find and woo Claire?

  The first two days’ ride was through familiar countryside, areas he’d walked through all his life to visit family and friends, to hunt for winter food, and to carry messages from the stronghold. By the third day, he had reached new territory. It was the same, but different. During the fourth and fifth days, he stared at the fields and trees, wondering what had changed, before he understood. The land here was not as well managed at that of the stronghold and the demesne. The demesne was Lord Rhys’s land. Technically the stronghold was his, too, because he’d married Lady Elinor, but everyone still considered her its lady.

  Where he was now, the fields had been harvested, but the paths between them had weeds growing through them, as if no one cared to keep them clear. He had a stout staff on his left hip and a long dagger near his right hand. It was unlikely masterless men would attack a single traveler, especially such a large man as himself, and one who showed no signs of wealth or saleable possessions, but a wise man stayed ever alert.

  Mitchell stared into the trees. The forest seemed different, too. It was quieter, without so many birds calling or other noises. Did that mean people were hiding there watching him? Or did it mean the local people had hunted the birds and animals until few remained? Back when Lord Jeffrey had terrorized the valley, starving people had hunted and gathered anything that could possibly be used for food. But the animals near the stronghold had returned in goodly numbers. Had that not happened here?

  He continued to remain vigilant, worried people were watching his progress, planning to attack. But he didn’t have that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades that a man got when he was being watched. It was strange indeed. However, he decided sleeping under a tree would not be a good choice that night and decided to stop at the demesne of a noble which was only about another hour away. It would be good to have news of these people to take home, too.

  Lord Ceadda was old and had been a friend of the late Lord Huart. He happily welcomed Mitchell and asked for news of Lady Elinor’s twin sons. “Lord Huart would have been so pleased. Two heirs, a man can’t wish for more.”

  Mitchell had noticed a middle-aged couple at the high table and hoped they were the old lord’s heirs. “Your heir is well, lord?” he asked.

  “My grandson is almost ten years old. Already he shows promise with a sword. As long as I live another four or five years, all will be well here.”

  “I wish you good health, Lord Ceadda.”

  “Thank you, boy. You say you are searching for your lady love?”

  “Her brother took her away to live with family when Lord Jeffrey was attacking the valley. I go to claim her and bring her to my home and hers.”

  The old man began a rambling discussion of Lord Jeffrey’s depredations on the valley, and Mitchell guessed he’d never really recovered from that time. He was old, and his heir was very young. That was why the land was not looked after as well as it may have been.

  Late the next day, Mitchell reached the area he’d been aiming for and turned off the main road to find the hamlet where Claire’s family lived. It was much slower traveling, and the track was not maintained. It was almost dark by the time he arrived, and the hamlet looked very poor indeed. Mitchell’s heart sank. This place certainly didn’t look capable of taking in extra family members and providing for them.

  The center of the village was a grassy area surrounding a well. That was unusual. Most villages, or even hamlets, were built near running water. Crops needed water to survive. Having to draw water from a well was not a good sign.

  A small boy and a toothless old lady emerged from the nearest hut. “Did you bring food?” asked the child.

  Bring food? It was just after harvest. They shouldn’t need his food.

  “I have enough for myself. Did your harvest fail?” he asked.

  “I planted as much as I could, but I think the birds ate most of the seed. Not much grew,” said the child.

  “Where are the men and women who should have done the planting?”

  “Most people were killed two years ago when soldiers attacked our hamlet. Some people went to Lord Ceadda’s stronghold, but it’s too far for my grandmother to walk, so we stayed here. I knew where people had hidden their grain, what the soldiers didn’t steal, so we were all right last winter, but most of it has been spoiled by rats and insects now, and I don’t know what will happen to us. You’re the first person we’ve seen since everyone left,” said the boy.

  “Is there no one in the other houses?”

  “Just us,” replied the old lady.

  “I’m looking for Claire, a woman with white-blonde hair. She and her brother were to come here a year ago.”

  “If they stopped at the lord’s stronghold, they’d have been told to go elsewhere.”

  “Very well. Tomorrow I’ll take you back to Lord Ceadda’s, and I’d best ask more questions.” Mitchell sighed. Obviously this was going to take longer and be a more difficult journey than he’d imagined. He just hoped the lord would accept and care for these two people. They’d never survive the winter out there alone.

  Chapter Two

  Claire had adjusted to living in the forest, but she longed to be back at the stronghold, or even living in Paul’s little house in the hamlet. Winter was coming, and winter in the forest was horrible. Even though Paul and Ivan had dug down deep into the soil to keep the heat from the fire inside their shelter and covered their walls and roof with mud, and later, snow and ice, it was still much colder than inside a stone building with a huge fire. In the stronghold, they could always wrap themselves in a fur and sleep in the great hall when it was very cold. Here, the shelter was just big enough for them all to be inside. Her brother always hugged her to him to share his body heat, but the small fire, all they could afford to use as gathering fuel was a time-consuming task, never seemed warm enough to Claire.

 
From outside, the shelter was very low to the ground, easy to disguise, as the men had dug it a long pace deep, and she appreciated the enormous amount of work that had been done, so the temperature inside would be more moderate, and the shelter itself much less obvious to anyone searching for them. But it was not, and never would be, home.

  It was no use asking to go home. Paul was convinced that life with Lord Jeffrey on the rampage was much too dangerous. Even here, so far north in the valley, there were signs Lord Jeffrey had attacked people. Several hamlets were derelict, all the people gone. One had been burned to the ground.

  Meeting Ivan had truly been a life-saving experience. He and Paul together had been able to kill some larger animals that provided them with plenty of meat and furs for warmth. When Paul was by himself, it was much too dangerous for him to tackle a larger animal because if he’d been hurt, Claire wouldn’t have been strong enough to carry him back to the campsite to care for him. But with the two of them, life had been easier, and the tiny shelter was built as well. Claire knew Paul wanted her to marry Ivan, and she was grateful to him, truly she was, but the man she loved was back at the stronghold. She loved Mitchell with all her heart, and gratitude to Ivan didn’t change her feelings for Mitchell at all.

  “Before winter sets in, you really ought to visit some hamlets and find out what has been happening in the valley,” she said to Paul that evening as they sat around a tiny fire.