Page 20

Inching the door closed as soundlessly as she could, Caryn scrambled away to the foot of the high carved bed. She had angered him again, but it had been worth it. The boy Leofric was saved!

In the passage behind the great hall, Caryn had heard his mother’s story, a broken tale, told between desperate pleas and heart-wrenching sobs.

She had asked for Caryn’s help, but Caryn had declined, saying her help would be useless, that it would only enrage her husband and might even make matters worse.

She had been resigned to sit in silence, hopeful her husband would be just. Then she had heard Ral’s words and the sentence the boy might receive, and her feet had moved of their own accord.

Caryn glanced nervously toward the door. In the hall below, she could hear the clatter of men moving about the great room and the sound of the dark Norman’s voice as he climbed the steep stone stairs. He’d been as angry as she had ever seen him. Mother of God, what would he do?

Caryn jumped as he lifted the heavy iron latch and strode inside the chamber, the muscles taut in his arms and shoulders, his rich plum mantle sailing out behind him. He didn’t stop walking until he stood before her, a black look marring his handsome face .

“So… my lady wife… you await me as you were told. ’Tis the first time, I’ll wager.”

Caryn wisely did not respond.

“What have you to say for yourself?”

“Very little, my lord.”

“That is a change. ’Twould seem to me that once again you have defied me.”

“I-I did not mean to, my lord. I only—”

“’Tis not enough you should gainsay me in private. Now you must do so in public as well.”

“I am sorry, my lord. ’Twas just that the boy’s mother was so distraught, so worried you would see the child maimed. She begged me to intercede and—”

“And so you did, though ’twas hardly your place to do so.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Did you also believe I would order such a sentence?”

Caryn glanced down at her feet. “I was not sure.”

“Since ’tis certain you were listening to what went on, I am certain you now know the fate the boy suffered.”

Caryn smiled up at him; she could not help it. “Aye, my lord. Thank you.”

“I do not believe you should thank me so soon.” He unfastened the gold and garnet brooch on his right shoulder, pulled off his cloak, and tossed it onto the bed.

“Wha-What are you doing?”

“I mean to do exactly what I said—see justice done.”

Caryn went still. Should he wish to beat her, she knew all too well how easily he could accomplish the deed. Still, she had known the risks before she decided to help; she would not now cower in fear.

“Justice often differs,” she said softly. “’Tis seen quite opposite by the man who prescribes it and the one upon whom it is heaped.”

A corner of his mouth curved up. “That is true. But as I recall, ’twas you who agreed to accept a portion of the young lad’s sentence.”

“You would have me work with him in the kitchen?”

“I told you before, I do not wish it said I am married to a scullery maid.”

“Then… then what is your wish, my lord?”

“Since your arrival in the castle, too often you have behaved as a man—riding off into danger, speaking out when you should hold your tongue. As the notion holds such an appeal, I will give you the chance to play the part in earnest.”

She eyed him warily, but could not read his expression.

“Tomorrow we hunt,” he said. “I would have you act as my page.”

Caryn just stared at him, certain he was speaking in jest, but there was no hint of amusement on his face. She smiled once more, this time even brighter. “Your page, my lord? Do you mean it? In truth, you would let me go with you?”

Ral’s brow went up in amazement. “You would enjoy this? You would be pleased?”

“But of course, my lord.”

Ral slammed his fist against the bedpost. “God’s wounds!” His scowl could have rivaled the devil himself. “You are like no woman I have ever known. ’Twas supposed to serve as punishment, yet you look at me as though I’ve gifted you with the moon.”

“’Twould be wonderful, my lord, to ride through the forests in search of game. I am a fair shot with a bow—should you allow me to carry one—though it has been some time since I have drawn one. ’Twas taught me by a bowman who served my father.”

“A fair shot with—” Ral swore an oath beneath his breath. During the long uncomfortable moments when he said nothing more, Caryn found herself wishing she had somehow disguised her pleasure.

“I am sorry, my lord. I did not mean to upset you.” Still he said nothing. “I am really not all that good a shot. Surely nowhere near as skilled as your archers. The joy came only in the learning.”

“And now,” he grumbled, “you would enjoy the chance to learn the duties of a page.”

“If that is your wish, my lord.”

He watched her a moment more, then a hard smile curved his lips. “Since you find the notion so pleasing, ’twould seem needless to wait for the morrow. ’Tis better we begin your duties here.”

“Here, my lord?”

“My muscles are tense with the hours I have spent in the hall. I have ordered a bath brought up. As my page, you will tend me in that as well.”

“A bath, my lord? That is all?”

His hands balled into fists. “Would you be better served with a beating?”

“N-No, of course not. But you could have commanded that of me even as your wife.”

“You are not my wife. Should you be my wife in truth, you would find yourself spread upon my bed, the penalty for your boldness a night of being ridden hard beneath me.” Caryn’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Since you are naught but a little imposter, you will make amends in the way I’ve commanded.”

Caryn thought no response was the best to make in this.

In silence she waited for the servants to arrive.

When at last they came and Ral granted them entrance, the door swung wide, and a wooden curvell of water was carried in.

The two young pages left them, and Ral sat down on the edge of his wide carved bed.

“You may start with my boots.”

Caryn smiled. “As you wish, my lord.” She knelt to do his bidding, feeling fortunate she would pay for her brashness in such a small way.

At least it seemed so, until he ordered her to strip off his tunic and the chainse he wore beneath.

She did so with some reluctance, climbing atop the big bed to accomplish the feat since he was so tall.

When she had finished, he stood in front of her nearly naked, looking down at his chausses as if he would have her strip them off, too.

She knew her cheeks were flaming, but the sight of his powerful body filled her vision and she could not look away.

“You are staring at me as if you’ve seen naught of a man before.”

“Of-Of course, I have. I have bathed my father and uncle.” But never had she seen them fully naked. Even if she had, ’twas certain the men would have looked nothing like the tall powerfully built Norman.

“No other?”

As the daughter of a Saxon lord, the duty might have often been assigned her. Usually she was nowhere near.

“No, my lord.” Her eyes ran over his body, magnificent in every detail and beautifully proportioned, from the astonishing width of his shoulders to his deep solid chest to the flat-muscled ridges of his belly.

As her glance moved lower, she saw another ridge of muscle, this one jutting forward, straining against his chausses.

Caryn gasped before she could stop herself.

“Fetch the soap,” Ral said gruffly, relenting to her embarrassment, turning away to strip off the balance of his clothes.

When she returned, she found him seated in the tub—thank the Blessed Virgin—leaning back against the edge with his eyes closed, his black hair plastered wetly to the nape of his neck.

Resting on the sides of the tub, his huge arms bulged with muscle, and heavy bands of sinew rippled across his massive chest.

“My back is in need of scrubbing,” he said without opening his eyes. He shifted to give her access, forcing water over the edge and onto the planked oaken floor .

“Aye, my lord.” Caryn’s hand shook as she soaped a rag and began to wash his shoulders. ’Twas like scrubbing well-honed steel.

“Now my chest.” He leaned back once more and Caryn bent over him, her fingers moving with purpose, trying not to notice the texture of his skin or the warmth of his breath against her ear.

He captured her wrist and with it her attention. “What you did this day,” he said softly, “’twas unwise of you, ma chere. I would have these people’s respect. I will allow naught to occur that might undermine that which I have worked so hard to gain.”

Caryn’s hand trembled where it rested against his chest. “’Twas never my intention, my lord.”

“Had I believed it was, ’twould be a far greater penalty you would pay.”

Her eyes searched his face. There was something in his expression, something that told her more than his words. “I fear I may have done you an injustice.”

A thick black brow arched up. “How is that?”

“I have come to believe, had I remained in the shadows, your sentence would have been the same. Is that not so, my lord?”

Some of the tension eased from his body. For the first time he smiled. “That is so, Cara.”

Caryn smiled, too. “I am glad, my lord.”

For a moment they remained that way, Ral’s blue-gray eyes on her face, Caryn’s fixed on his beautiful lips. It took a strength of will to force her attention away. She started to rise, felt his hand on her arm, felt a sharp tug that threw her off balance.

Caryn shrieked as he tumbled her into the water.

“Sweet Mary, what do you? Have you lost your wits?”

He chuckled, a soft deep rumble in his chest. “Mayhap I have.” Her useless struggles made his smile grow even wider. “Since you have once more escaped my wrath, I will assume the next time you find cause to doubt my judgment, you will speak of it when we are alone.”

Caryn stopped fighting, her eyes going wide. “You would hear what it is I have to say?”