Page 11 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

A snarl woke Rowena. Had a wild animal entered the meadow?

No.

Her heartbeat, which had gone wild at the thought, settled as soon as she saw William standing in front of her, his back propped against a tree trunk. The sight reassured her, even if she could not understand what he was doing in the meadow. He would not be so relaxed if a danger was threatening them. Yet he was not looking at her, his gaze was fixed on a point behind her. She turned and saw two men eyeing him warily.

She covered her bare legs in haste and stood up. The air bristled with tension, and she understood the snarl must have come from William himself. Far from being relaxed, his body was taut as a bow string, and his hand was poised at the hilt of his sword.

Ready to strike.

“What is happening here?” Only once the words left her mouth did she realize she’d aimed the question at him, not her countrymen.

“Our friends found you asleep in the grass and were considering taking advantage of the fact,” he answered in a clipped voice. “I think they are now rethinking the wisdom of this decision.”

Indeed the men were watching the exchange with worried faces.

“You were wrong Oswald. She’s a Norman, like him,” one of them said under his breath. “We had better get out of here.”

Rowena’s temper flared at this. “I’m not a Norman,” she said, reverting to her language.

“No. But he definitely is.” The man gestured toward William, whom no one could have mistaken for a Saxon. “And he knows you. Is he your lover?”

“Certainly not!”

“Why are you on your own together, if not for a tryst in the woods? He seems determined that no one else should have you.”

“I had no idea he’d followed me,” she explained with diffidence, shocked at the way the man spoke about her. He seemed to say that, as a woman, she was ripe for the taking, no matter who did it or her opinion on the matter. Suddenly, Saxon as he was, the man did not seem like an ally, whereas William, despite being her enemy, was prepared to defend her virtue.

Without thinking, she took a step toward him.

“So you are not together?”

She hesitated then answered the man’s question. “No.”

They weren’t. Not in that sense at least.

“Does he speak our language?”

“No.” She wasn’t sure how much William understood of the exchange, though. He’d said he didn’t speak but he did know a few words.

“We will help you get rid of him then.” The man turned to his friend. “Go get the others. They are scything in the field yonder. The girl and I will keep him waiting. This promises to be worthwhile.”

Oswald disappeared in the blink of an eye. Rowena thought quickly. As far as the men were concerned, this was an unhoped-for opportunity to rid themselves of a despised Norman baron. Once the other men arrived, William would be outnumbered, perhaps ten to one. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

If she told them she was his prisoner and beg for their help they would only be too glad to give it. But there was no need. It seemed their leader had already made up his mind the Norman would not leave the meadow alive. The men would pounce and probably inflict all sorts of humiliations before killing him. Her mother and stepfather would be avenged a hundredfold. The Saxons would do what she could never do on her own. Not only kill him, but make him suffer in the process.

There was only one problem.

William did not deserve such a fate, not when he’d prevented the two men from assaulting her. She knew he wasn’t lying about that, she had seen for herself the lewd glint in their eyes. Who was to say they’d leave her alone once he was dead? There was no knowing how many men were on their way, and they might well expect her to show them gratitude for their help against her supposed enemy.

What if they decided to celebrate their victory over the Norman with her body? Fear sliced through her. For better or for worse, she and William were in this together. Handing him over to the men would only place her into danger.

She had to save him to save herself.

“We need to leave without delay. The other man has gone to get more friends,” she told him under her breath. “And they mean to kill you.”

His eyes narrowed. He seemed surprised to hear her urge him away from danger, as well he might. After all, she was supposed to want him dead.

“Come closer to me,” he told her with a straight face. “The man will not allow us to leave so easily if he means to keep me here until his friends arrive. I need to be able to protect you.”

Rowena nodded and took a step toward him, behaving as if they were having an innocuous conversation. She was confident the Saxon did not understand a word of what they were saying and had assumed she was simply helping him to kill time until the others arrived.

Her heart was beating furiously in her chest, but the farther she got away from the man, the safer she felt. When she was within arm’s length of William, she let out a shaky breath, like someone who had just escaped a great danger.

Whatever happened now, the Saxon could not get to her. He would have to get past William first.

“Run back toward the castle,” he told her, placing his strong body between her and the man. “Wait for me at the edge of the forest. Go. Now .”

She ran, not stopping until she was a good distance away.

Panting, she stopped and glanced around her. From where she stood, she could not see the clearing, and the only sound reaching her ears was the chirping of birds. What had happened out there? Had William managed to escape before the man’s friends had arrived? Anguish tightened her chest and she realized that he was worried for him, which did not make sense.

But then again, nothing made sense where this man was concerned.

For the second time, she had missed her chance to kill him. She might be able to persuade herself she had been unable to do it on the night at Old Sarum because he hadn’t come anywhere near her—at first at least—but this time, sparing him had been a conscious decision. His death had been within her grasp, yet she willfully rejected it.

It was no use telling herself she had done it for her own protection. She knew her reasons were much more confused than that.

Ater a while William appeared, walking as calmly as if he had not just been in mortal danger. Not wanting to hear he’d had to kill him, she did not dare ask what he had done to the man.

“Let’s go.” He walked past her without breaking his stride, staring ahead.

She saw then that, far from being relaxed, he was in a foul mood. His gait was so graceful, she’d mistaken it for nonchalance at first. Her insides withered.

Oh Lord.

He was angry.

With her .

*

William could barely think for rage.

If he hadn’t followed her into the forest, the girl would have woken up with a man on top of her, inside her. How foolish could one be?

For a moment he considered showing her the reality of what she had narrowly avoided. Feeling herself trapped and powerless under a man’s weight might knock some much-needed sense into her, more than any remonstrance would. He should tumble her onto the floor right here, right now, and show her how dangerous men could be.

He shook his head.

He would never have the control required for such a risky experiment.

If he lay on top of her to illustrate what a man without scruples would do, he wasn’t at all sure he would be able to keep his desires in check. Since their encounter at Old Sarum, he’d obsessed about taking her, and he might find it impossible to resist the temptation to do just that if he felt her writhing under him. He was fairly certain she would not push him away if he attempted to seduce her, but he’d promised not to touch her in that way. He meant to honor that promise, however much it cost him.

“What were you doing in the meadow?” she asked after a while.

“I followed you. And a good thing I did too. Do you often fall asleep in the forest, unprotected and alone?” He came to an abrupt halt. “Have you no sense? Do you have any idea what men who found you alone and asleep in the grass would do given half the chance? What those two almost did? And why did you go alone to the forest? What is there to do there?”

The girl shrugged. “I like to wade in the water, smell the flowers. I was raised outside, in nature. Unlike you, I did not spend my time in grand castles. I like to be with myself. At the castle I feel like…”

“You feel like?”

“Like a prisoner,” she finished in a small voice.

William could not help a snort at this answer. “If you do, you have only yourself to blame. I did not ask you to try and kill me. Besides, the conditions of your incarceration are considerably less restrictive than a real prisoner would expect. You are free to go wherever you want, are you not?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. She had proven that by going alone to the forest. “Might I suggest, however, that you take someone along with you when you feel the urge to go wading in the river?”

“Is this supposed to make me feel less like a prisoner?” she challenged, displaying her usual brazenness.

But this time he did not smile. He wanted to impress the point upon her. She ought to be more cautious. “I’m worried about your safety.”

She blinked. “You are worried about the safety of the woman you found in your bed with a dagger?”

“Yes, I am. And so should you be. Just because I do not want you to kill me doesn’t mean I want you raped.”

The girl paled, as if the possibility had not occurred to her before. He was not so na?ve. Without a doubt, the men would have assaulted her had he not been there when they found her.

“You are so protective of women… Why are you not married yet?” she asked, resuming her walk. The purpose of the question could have been to shift the focus away from her, but she sounded genuinely curious.

“How do you know I’m not married?” For all she knew, he had a wife waiting for him in Normandy. He was after all, well past the age of matrimony.

“ Do you have a wife?”

He let her question hang for a moment. “No.”

“Then we are back to my original question.”

Her perseverance wrenched a snort from him. “I am not married because I do not trust the women who approach me. They all seem to have an ulterior motive.”

“So you send them on their way?”

“Absolutely, I do. Eventually.” He looked her straight in the eye and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush. “I don’t want to marry them, but there are many things we can do before I send them on their way.”

“What type of ulterior motive do they have?” Though she tried not to betray any confusion, her cheeks had gone a delicious pink color.

“At best, they want to make the most of my position. At worst, they want to use me for a purpose. I told you about the comtesse. I’m sure after having heard that story you will understand my wariness.”

Wariness. Yes. Since this misadventure he had been careful not to let himself be influenced by his urges. He was careful to choose women without husbands as his lovers, and he never let his emotions become too involved. The only exception to that rule had been Cwenhild. Keeping his feelings under control had never been an issue, but she was undoubtedly married. He had allowed himself to be seduced one night, when after a somewhat lively dinner, she had slipped her hand under the table and proceeded to show him just how far she was prepared to go to have him in her bed.

At least he had put an end to that folly now. It had been high time, for he could not afford a repeat of Lady du Vallon’s story. Besides, Cwenhild’s charms had not long outlived the frisson of transgression he had felt at first.

“I resolved to marry only someone I could trust and without whom life would seem impossible. So far, I haven’t met anyone who fits the description.”

He winced. What had made him justify his decision not to marry to this girl? He did not owe her any explanation, but to his surprise, he wanted to give her an honest answer.

“Not all women are devious and manipulative. The women who approached you might have done so because they were attracted to you as a man,” she observed.

A smile tugged at his lips. She was effectively saying she thought him handsome enough to turn women into reckless wantons. Good. He would have hated to be the only one not thinking straight in this odd relationship of theirs.

“Yes. Maybe you are right. Remind me, why did you come to my bed that evening at Old Sarum? Was it because you were attracted to me as a man? Because you wanted me to make love to you all night?” he purred, enjoying himself. “Or did you have an ulterior motive?”

He watched her flounder with amusement. They were both only too aware that she had gone to him so she could kill him.

“I…”

“I will allow that your reason for pursuing me is more extreme than most, but still, I’m sure you get my point,” he said when it became clear she wouldn’t be able to give him a coherent answer. “But I do not lay all the blame at your door. I am at fault as well. I should have been more prepared, but, fool that I am, I only wanted to help you.”

William heard the undercurrent of hurt in his voice. Undeniably, it had been a blow to realize the girl had used his selfless impulse to get her out of Hugues’ clutches for her own purpose.

Well. Selfless at first. William had quickly found a way to make the most of the opportunity. It made him uncomfortable. Perhaps she was right to be wary of him. Perhaps he was not as honorable as he’d like to think. After all, it hadn’t taken him long to turn the moment to his advantage.

“Is there anything else you would like to know?” he asked, annoyed at his failings. “If I have any children for example?”

“Children? I never imagined that you could have children,” she murmured, almost to herself.

“If I had they would only be bastards, of course, since I am not married, but they would still depend on me. Is that what is bothering you? Are you saying you are a murderer with a conscience? That you would be loath to rob innocent children of their father?”

He was teasing her, but the tears that sprung in her eyes told him the idea was indeed abhorrent to her.

“I would never want to see a child deprived of their father. I-I know just how painful it is to lose a beloved parent.”

He did not miss the earnestness in her tone. She was genuinely horrified at the idea of being responsible for a child’s heartache. Had she lost her father at a young age herself, leaving her inconsolable? He had the irrepressible urge to reassure her.

“Rest easy. I have no children. That I know of,” he amended in an effort at honesty. “Though perhaps I should lie and claim to have dozens if it would stay your hand.”

There was no answer, but he knew what she would be thinking.

They had been together for nearly a sennight now and she had made no progress in her plans to kill him. Worse, she had let a golden opportunity to dispose of him pass. She was still his prisoner, still at his mercy.

And he was still alive.