Page 18 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

“Why did it take you so long to come to me for your revenge?”

Rowena was not surprised to see William appear behind her. She had guessed that once the shock of her revelation faded, he would want answers. In truth, that was why she had stayed in the bailey this morning, even though she ached to run to the forest and be on her own.

But after a miserable night alone and cold in bed, she could not spend another moment without seeing him. He would need explanations, and she needed… well, she needed to be with him. She’d missed him all night and tortured herself with the notion he might have gone to another woman to forget about her terrible revelations.

“I wanted to be ready. I wanted to be older, better prepared.” She scoffed. In the end all her preparations had come to nothing.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty. I was born the year your Duke William came from Normandy. I don’t know what my country was like before the conquest. Imagine that.”

“Twenty. So young…” he murmured to himself.

“It is not so young. You told me yourself you killed a man aged seventeen, even if it was an accident.” That had been ten years ago, which meant he was now seven-and-twenty. Inexplicably, Rowena trembled. He was so much more experienced than her—in every sense of the word. “I wanted to learn to speak your language better before I attempted anything. And for a while I could not find any trace of you.”

It was odd to talk about it all with him, but at the same time it felt good. During long months, she had not mentioned her plans to anyone and felt so lonely.

“I went back to Normandy for a while last year, that will be why.”

She nodded. “Yes, I had guessed that much. Then one day, I heard the Norman barons were to assemble at Old Sarum to pay homage to King William. I guessed you would be there. In the hive of activity, I approached one of the cooks and asked for a position in the kitchens. Because they needed all the help they could get, she agreed. I could not believe how simple it had been in the end.”

“How did you imagine you would gain access to me?” He sounded curious rather than mocking. “I do not exactly spend my time in the kitchens when I am invited somewhere.”

“It was a first necessary step. I knew if I was patient enough, I would find the opportunity to get within reach of you. And I was right.”

Indeed, they had been within touching distance of each other. Literally. Rowena’s body heated in remembrance, but thankfully he did not pass any comment.

“You would have been stopped immediately had you had the audacity to make an attempt on my life in view of everyone. My men would have captured you, if not killed you outright,” he said matter-of-factly. “The place was teeming with Normans. Even if you had only wounded me, even if you had only drawn a blade on me, you would have been stopped. Surely you must have known that?”

“I did. But it did not matter, I would have fulfilled my promise to my mother at last.”

“You were ready to be captured or killed in the attempt? To sacrifice yourself?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause. Then William raised the issue she had always refused to address. “Did you promise your mother to do it? To avenge both her and your stepfather?”

“I… No.”

That was the most terrible thing of all. She had never actually given her word. Her mother had assumed she would carry out her dying wish without question, and Rowena had not allowed herself to think she might have a choice and allow the man to live.

“You set out for me armed with a simple dagger, intent on stabbing me in the place where all the Norman barons in the land were assembled. I don’t know whether to be impressed or appalled,” he said slowly. “I could—and should—have stopped you myself of course. I am rarely caught off guard, and I am not so easy to kill. A few have tried, but none have yet succeeded.”

“I always knew it was a risk, but I could not consider failure.” The prospect had been daunting enough without thinking of the potential dangers, so Rowena had always refused to dwell on it. “In any case, you made matters easy for me by asking me to your room that night, and you took your sword off as soon as you saw me on the bed. So much for never being caught off guard.”

A smile bloomed on his lips at the deliberate provocation. Her heart began to beat twice as fast. Things had definitely changed between them. They were no longer enemies but… But what exactly? She had no answer.

“Well. As I told you, my other potential murderers were men, and I have never had to feign an interest in them in order to get them out of a lecherous man’s clutches,” William said with mock sternness. “But you are right, it was ill-considered of me. I unwisely gave you access to me in my most vulnerable moment.”

“You failed to learn from the lesson, though. You are here alone with me, and you have allowed me to sleep next to you every night since,” she pointed out.

He raised a brow. “You are indeed alone with me, but you are unarmed, and I am on high alert for any move on your part. Mark my words, you will not be allowed anywhere near the crockery ever again.”

This was said with one of his most devastating smiles. She had never seen anyone smile like this, much less been on the receiving end of such a blatantly seductive ploy, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.

“So when I spared you de Malemort’s advances and asked you to my room, I did you more of a favor than you could have dreamed.” He became serious again.

“As to that, I will admit I was stunned by your intervention.”

“I can well imagine. Stunned and relieved, as it provided you with the perfect setting for your crime. I signed my own death warrant by being too helpful.”

He sounded wistful and Rowena felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Whatever else happened that night, I want you to know I am grateful for what you did. You did not know me, but you helped me. I dread to think what would have happened had you not intervened.”

“I bet you could not believe this stroke of luck.”

“It’s not quite what I meant.”

“I know.” He scorched her with a blazing look. “In any event, I did not die for my generous impulse, so there is justice after all. Maybe someone is trying to send you a message.”

Rowena had never thought about it like that and though she wasn’t sure she believed in such messages, there was surely a lesson in there somewhere. Rather than lunging at her that night, William had made her lose her mind with pleasure. After months of careful preparations, it had been enough for him to put his hands on her to make her forget everything.

And so, by being generous and patient, William had saved himself. Had he arrived in the room and tumbled her into the bed like the monster she had imagined him to be, he would probably be dead by now. She would have drawn the dagger and plunged it into his body without any hesitation. She had only spared him because she had been too busy enjoying the attention he lavished on her.

Maybe there was justice indeed. Generosity and selflessness had been more efficient in protecting him than brute force would have been. Even if she did not believe in destiny, the fact that he owed his life to his respectful attitude certainly gave her food for thought.

Since that fateful day in her stepfather’s house, she had been presented with two images of William de la Falaise, and wondered which one was the real him. Now she knew. The ruthless killer who had murdered her stepfather was not who he truly was. Such a man would not have been so ready to defend the honor of a servant girl he had never met before. He would not have taken the time to pleasure her before satisfying his own urges.

“I think your mother must have been an extraordinarily single-minded woman,” he said after a while.

She could only agree, but she was amazed that he could have guessed as much from their short conversation. “Stabbing herself must have required an uncommon strength of character, I suppose.”

He nodded. “Yes, but she did not seem to take into account what it would do to her daughter to have to live with that terrible image in her mind.”

This observation was too close to what she had never allowed herself to think for Rowena to be comfortable. She bristled. “What else was she supposed to do? Let the men rape her without a word of protest? Do you think I would have found it easier to live with the memory of the two of them forcing themselves upon her?”

“No, of course not.” William gritted his teeth. “Forgive me, that is not what I meant.”

His obvious disgust at his men’s actions lessened Rowena’s anger. She shouldn’t be getting angry with him. He was only trying to be honest. “What did you mean then?”

“I mean that she chose to kill herself when she knew you were watching. Then she asked you to avenge both her death and that of a man who was not even your father. That is a heavy burden for anyone, too heavy for most to carry, especially someone like you. She did not worry you could be killed yourself for killing a Norman, possibly even be tortured and raped beforehand.” William sounded as earnest as she had ever heard him. “And even if, by some miracle, you did not get punished for it, she did not think how you would live the rest of your life with a man’s blood on your hands.”

“You are only saying this because that man is you, and you’re glad I did not kill you,” she argued.

“Not so, even if I am indeed glad you did not kill me for a crime I did not commit.” He had to be referring to the attempted rape of her mother, Rowena supposed, for they both knew he had killed Godric. “But as I told you before, it is not so easy to kill a man.”

“Your life seems to prove the opposite,” she said more scathingly than she had intended.

As usual, he did not let the accusation ruffle him. “But it is because I have killed men that I can tell you. I know what I’m talking about. You haven’t got the heart of a killer.” He spoke gently, almost as if he regretted the fact, as if he knew it was not what she wanted to hear.

“How can you be so sure? You don’t know anything about me.”

He took her hand and placed the tip of her fingers on the wound she had inflicted him. It was healing well, but still looked raw. Her hand trembled when her fingers touched his skin. She could barely breathe. To think he could be dead right now, through her fault!

“I know enough. Remember how you reacted when you cut my cheek? You almost fainted and were sick with disgust. You tremble thinking about it now.” He wrapped his fingers around hers to still them and carried on speaking softly. “How do you think you would have felt if you had cut open my throat and watched me die at your feet?”

“I-I don’t…” she stammered, imagining him lying in a pool of his own blood, twitching in the throes of agony. He was right, the horror would have unhinged her mind, perhaps permanently. “I don’t know.”

He placed a kiss on the inside her palm, on her injury, lingering over the gesture. Rowena closed her eyes. This was delicious. “You are no murderer and I think your mother should not have asked you to become one. You were her daughter, she should have protected you, she should have protected your future peace of mind.”

“How could she have done that? She did not want you to kill her husband, she did not ask the men to come at her, did she? It is all very well telling me this but how was she supposed to protect me after what had happened? How? Tell me how if you are so sure!” she cried out, pushing at him in anger. He was kissing her, soothing her, making her feel as if everything was all right.

It was not.

She was an orphan, she had failed in her mission and soon she would have to leave a man she had come to cherish above all others. Everything was not all right.

She slapped her palm flat against his chest. He did nothing to stop her, as if sensing she needed an outlet for her pain and frustration. Grateful for his compliance Rowena hit him again and again, conscious she wasn’t hurting him in the least.

He was letting her use him for her own benefit, and the experience was cathartic. Eventually, having exhausted her anger, she let her arms fall by her side in defeat.

“I do not know how she could have protected you, but you did not deserve to be used in such a way. Your mother died, but you had to live through it all, which is perhaps even more difficult,” William said eventually. “What I do know is that you will have to find a way of accepting the fact that you are never going to kill me now. You could hardly bear to injure me. You should try to come to terms with the idea you are not a murderer instead of steeling yourself for a task you find abhorrent.”

They stayed silent for a long while.

“Do you want the dagger back?” he asked once she’d had time to absorb what he’d told her. “Now I know why it seemed familiar to me. It’s the knife Godric drew on me that day, is it not?”

“It is, and I don’t want it.” Rowena shook her head in horror. “I never want to see the wretched thing ever again.” It would always remind her of the awful scene she had witnessed.

“You need never see it again,” William promised her. “I will dispose of it.”

“Thank you. Now I need to be alone. I need to think.”

He nodded and watched her go.