Page 19 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

Rowena’s feet brought her back to the river. The soothing babbling of the water was exactly what she needed to bring some peace to her thoughts. She felt different, lighter. For the first time since her mother’s death, she had shared her torment with someone. It felt good, because that someone had been William himself and she now knew the truth about his involvement—or rather, lack thereof—in her mother’s assault.

It was as if she’d been granted absolution at last.

She plunged her hand into the water, letting the current weave through her fingers and caress her skin. A branch was stuck against some rocks in front of her. With a flick of her thumb, she freed it. As it sped away, she imagined herself like the piece of wood, finally free to make her own path, free of the terrible promise her mother had imposed on her.

Just when the branch disappeared around the river bend, William stepped out from behind a bush. He walked over to her, silent in his catlike gait. Even though she was surprised he’d found out where she was, she was gratified he had sought her out. There were still questions she needed answers to, and she had been about to go to him.

But he’d come to her of his own accord, warming her to the bottom of her soul.

“How did you guess where I would be?”

His perfect mouth twitched. “It is not the first time we have been here, is it?”

Of course. And last time, he’d saved her from assault. She glanced at the ring on her finger.

“I did really find the ring here,” she said, pointing to the great boulder in the middle of the river. She knew without a doubt he would believe her now.

“I know.”

He regarded her intently for a moment, then told her what she guessed he had come to tell her. “I swear I never asked Gilles and Sylvain to harm your mother. I am horrified that men under my orders could act in such a beastly way, dare to attack a woman, a woman whose husband had just been killed.”

“Yes. I believe you,” Rowena whispered. The William she knew would never have behaved in such a manner. “What happened to the men?”

They were not in his entourage, that much she had seen, for she would have recognized them anywhere. She had meant to enquire about them long ago. The fact she was now comfortable enough to ask the question told her just how much things had changed between them.

She and William now trusted and valued each other.

“I dismissed them shortly after when they expressed a desire to go back to Normandy. As they weren’t indispensable to me, I allowed them to go back home.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked, picking on the tone. He sounded furious.

“I do. For I have no idea where they could be right now, and after what you told me, I would like nothing more than to see them punished for their behavior,” he said through gritted teeth. “I had suspected them of being less than honorable, that was one of the reasons I was happy to let them go, but if I’d known what they had done, they would have had to answer for it, believe me. I would have made them suffer for this.”

It was only then Rowena wondered if her mother was the only Saxon woman they had treated thus. The idea had never crossed her mind before, and she did her best not to dwell on it. It would not help to agonize over it.

William snapped a branch from a nearby tree and started peeling the bark from it, likely in a bid to release some of the anger she saw boiling under the surface. His eyes threw sparks, and his gestures were unusually brusque.

“Were you and your stepfather close?” he asked, keeping his eyes on his working fingers.

She had to admit that asking the question showed considerable aplomb. She waited until he had stripped the piece of wood completely before answering.

“No, not particularly.” His courage should at least be rewarded with honesty.

He threw the naked branch into the water and nodded. “In that case I will tell you why I killed him.” The words were uttered with a determined effort at composure, but Rowena wasn’t fooled by his detached tone. His jaw was clenched so hard, it looked about to crack. “You deserve to know the truth.”

She liked the fact he spoke to her in such a straightforward manner, as he would to an equal, not to an impressionable female he should shield from the truth. He trusted her to be strong enough to handle whatever he would tell her. Above all, she liked that he did not shy away from his responsibility. He had killed Godric, and he was not trying to pretend otherwise or downplay the fact.

And now, she was about to find out why.

“Tell me.”

*

William had come to find the girl because he wanted her to know the truth about what had happened that day. He hated that she believed him a cold, ruthless assassin, capable of running a man through with his sword at the least provocation, without care or thought to the family he was leaving behind.

He was nothing like that.

“I first became involved with Godric the Redman about three years ago,” he explained. “He approached me himself when he understood I was trying to create better relationships between Norman barons and Saxon lords.”

“I never knew he was so involved in such dealings. I am not even sure my mother knew,” the girl mused. “I have to say I am impressed he would want to aid such a far-sighted and commendable scheme.”

“Don’t be too impressed,” William scoffed. “He was playing a double game. Far from aiding the cause, he secretly encouraged Saxon riots. He only wanted to have an ear to my plans.”

“Yes. That sounds more like the man I knew.”

William was gratified to see she did not question his word for a moment. “You never wondered why he spoke my language so well?”

“No, though I was surprised he would want to teach me. I told you I wanted to improve before finding you, but I already had some knowledge of it because my stepfather insisted I learn it. As he had never lavished time or attention onto me before, I could not help but find the matter peculiar.”

William made a dismissive gesture of the hand. Who knew what the man’s reasons had been? It mattered little now anyway. “Maybe he thought it would send the right message to me, show his commitment. Or maybe he was planning an alliance between you and a Norman baron.”

“Yes, I think he was,” the girl said slowly. “He alluded to it on more than one occasion.”

“Do you know who he had in mind?” he asked, striving to sound neutral when his whole body had tensed.

“No. I think he might not have been sure himself.”

She would not have been married to a man, as much as to a project. In such circumstances, any of the local Normans would have been acceptable. Godric had only meant to use the match to further his own ambition.

William tried to imagine the girl married off to one of his countrymen and had to forcibly steer his mind away from such an unsavory proposition. The thought that one of them would have been entitled to take her to bed was enough to make his blood boil.

“I will admit I was relieved to see the project abandoned at his death, yet another reason for me not to feel too much chagrin at his demise.”

William nodded. At least the man’s scheming had had one positive effect. He had taught his stepdaughter the Norman tongue, without which they would never have been able to converse. And her speaking his language had been the reason why he’d noticed her…

As usual his body gave a jolt when he remembered what had happened that night at Old Sarum, how she had felt in his hands. He forced his mind back to the present. They were discussing something of importance, he should not let his mind wander on such licentious paths.

“You still haven’t told me why you killed my stepfather,” the girl reminded him. “I would like to know, even though by now you’ve said enough to convince me his death should not be lamented overmuch.”

No. Indeed.

“I told you he only wanted to keep abreast of my plans to suit his own purposes. I think he meant to show the local Saxons lords he should be their leader because he had managed to rid the county of the hated Normans,” William said in a snarl. “A few months after my first meeting with Godric, a delegation of barons traveled to Winchester. An ambush in the forest killed them all. One of the men who perished that day was my brother Stéphane. I felt responsible for their deaths, for I had made no secret to your stepfather and a couple of his friends of the route they would take that day, thereby allowing the men to plan their attack.”

“So you killed him to avenge your brother’s death.” The girl sounded somewhat crestfallen, as if she had expected better from him. “And despite that, you told me that I should forget about avenging my mother’s death? You are no better than I am; you only wanted revenge. The only difference is you actually succeeded in your mission.” She shook her head, clearly not impressed.

“Yes, I wanted revenge, but that is not why I killed your stepfather,” William contradicted immediately. He could tell his explanation had been a blow to her. She hadn’t liked being told that the reason for his plunging his sword into Godric was purely a thirst for revenge.

“I might have killed him there and then had I witnessed the ambush, but I do not believe in cold-blooded murder.” He gave her a half smile. “I understand that you might not believe me, but it’s true.”

She gave him the same rueful half smile. “Yes. But I do believe you.”

They remained with their eyes locked for a very long time. Then he carried on.

“That day at your house, I found out he had been the one betraying us. I had tried to pin the man responsible for the deed for quite some time, and during our discussion, your stepfather inadvertently revealed something which made me understand the role he had played in the ambush in Winchester.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I remember picking up on the change of atmosphere between you two at the time.”

William nodded. From the moment he had understood he was talking to an enemy rather than an ally, he had become distinctively colder. The man’s treachery had been responsible for his brother’s death.

“Godric realized I had seen through him, and he started threatening me. As soon as I walked out of the room he would have sent a message to the Saxons who were now eating out of the palm of his hand, demanding my execution for one reason or other. I could not let that happen. I had intended merely to incapacitate him, but he drew his dagger and left me no choice. He would never have let me out of the room alive, and other lives were at stake. I will own that his death did not overly weigh on my conscience, though I should perhaps not tell you as much,” he added in a bid at honesty.

“No, but…” the girl started in a low voice. “Despite the violent manner of it, I would not have been traumatized by his death if it had not been followed by my mother’s ordeal. What I have really tried to avenge all this time was her dishonor and death, not Godric’s murder. That’s why I was not as determined to kill you as I would have been to kill the two men who had attacked her. I focused on you because you were the only one I could find any trace of, but I would never have thought to pursue you had my mother not given me your name with her dying breath.”

Her eyes flicked to his cheek, where he bore the scar of her attack. He wished she didn’t have to see it and be reminded of what she had done. After having heard her story, he hated that she felt guilty about it, because now he knew what had motivated her action, and he could not blame her.

“I am relieved you did not become a murderer on my account,” he said, brushing his finger along her cheek. The skin was softer than silk. “When did you lose your father?”

“When I was very young. I have few memories with him, but I still feel his loss keenly. My mother married Godric when I was ten years old. They never had any children together. I know he was not a faithful husband, but I never heard word of any by blows. It might be that he was unable to father children, which would explain his attitude toward me. He wanted an heir, and my very existence proved the barrenness of his marriage could not be laid at my mother’s door. I think he always resented me for being the proof of his lack of virility. When I grew up, he started to see me differently and understood that I could be a useful tool in his ambition.”

Yes. It made sense, but what a dispiriting childhood picture she painted… William watched her intently, feeling everything she wasn’t saying.

The sadness, the shame, the despair.

“So no, in answer to your question I was not particularly fond of my stepfather. His death did not affect me as much as it perhaps should have, especially now that I know he brought it on himself by his underhanded actions.”

“Yes. That is one way of seeing it,” William agreed.

The girl gave him a long, thoughtful stare. “Why did you ask if I was close to him before telling me the truth? What difference could it possibly make?”

“Because if you’d told me you loved him as a father, I would not have revealed his true nature. Instead, I would have let you think ill of me for killing him in cold blood. It would have been a small price to pay. You have already lost your father and your mother in the most shocking way. I did not want you to lose the good opinion of a man you had come to love and respect.”

*

The extraordinary answer rendered Rowena speechless. This had to be the most selfless, thoughtful act anyone had ever done for her.

She cleared her throat, moved beyond words. “Well, as I said, I was not particularly fond of my stepfather, and I would rather know the truth.”

I would rather have my good opinion of you confirmed.

For days now, she had fought the realization that William was not, in fact, a ruthless killer. This reversal of opinion had happened gradually but inexorably. It was impossible to live in close proximity to a man like him and carry on hating him. Fair and clever, he was a far cry from the dangerous enemy she had taken him for these last eighteen months.

No one else she knew, Norman or Saxon, wanted the two peoples to cohabit together in harmony. It was a noble pursuit. For that if for nothing else, William did not deserve to die. She looked at him squarely, knowing her life was about to change forever. She would put down the burden she had carried for so long and give herself a second chance at life.

“Now I know you killed Godric only to defend yourself and save the lives of others. Now I know you are not responsible for your men attacking my mother. If I had known that from the beginning, I would have…” Her voice died on her lips.

“What are you saying?” William asked softly, keeping very still as if he didn’t want her to bolt. His eyes were aglow with something akin to compassion, and she found that she could not sustain his gaze. “Are you glad you did not kill me after all?”

“Yes.”

“So am I, though I cannot regret you ever trying. We would never have met otherwise.” He took her wrist in a tender gesture.

“You need not fear me anymore.”

Such a declaration could have made him laugh. Certainly, anyone watching him tower over her with his broad shoulders and powerful hands would have found it improbable that she, frail as she was, could ever pose any threat to him.

But he did not mock her, he simply nodded. He seemed to say that she could have killed him if she had really wanted to. The hold on her arm didn’t loosen, but she did not want him to let her go. She was mesmerized by the way his long fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“If you do not want to take revenge on me anymore then you don’t have any reason to remain here. And I have no cause to keep you,” he said slowly.

Had she imagined the note of regret in his voice? It could be that she attributed to him the feelings she felt herself, for she did not want to leave.

“No, I have no reason to stay.” The idea that they would soon be parted made her breath catch in her throat. Then inspiration struck. Surely there would be other meetings with Saxon lords in the weeks to come, considering what he was trying to do. “Except… Didn’t you need an interpreter?”

The request would be odd, possibly even seen as begging, but she cared not. If it earned her another few days with him, it would be worth it. She was not ready to go just yet, not like this.

He shook his head but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “I told you, I already have more interpreters than I need. However, if you wish to remain with me, I am sure we could find a way to accommodate you.”

This time she knew she had not imagined the fire in his eyes. “I’m not sure I should—”

“To hell with what you should do! We are past all this, you and me,” he cut in roughly. “Nothing of what is happening is what should happen. You tried to kill me, and yet I feel for you a desire such as I have never felt before. After what we’ve been through together, I think we can afford to be honest with each other. Don’t you feel this connection between us? Don’t you want to stay with me? That’s all I’m asking. If you want to stay, then…” The grip on her wrist tightened possessively. The heat in his eyes took on a new intensity. “Stay. For another night at least. Stay. Please. You and I are not quite done yet.”

Rowena could not ignore the meaning of his words. It was all she had been able to think about for days. Her mouth opened and she tried to speak but she had no idea what to say so she closed it again and instead nibbled at her bottom lip.

As she did, William’s gaze fastened on her mouth. A flame she had no difficulty identifying as desire lit up in his eyes. Heart thumping, she understood his control had finally snapped.

Before she could protest, he drew her into his arms.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Speak now if you don’t want me to touch you because I can’t help it, I’ve held the need to do so in check for far too long,” he warned before placing his lips on hers in a searing kiss.

Even if she had wanted to, she could not have drawn away. He kissed her with all the passion she imagined a man was capable of. After the iron restraint he had exercised over his urges in the past week, it was as if a dam had burst. Delight made Rowena’s chest warm. She provoked his desire, she was the one making this virile, measured man lose all control.

The idea was intoxicating.

In his arms, her world changed, became brighter. His mouth worshipped hers, his lips caressed hers, and his hands held her fast against his hard body. He kissed her until her body grew limp, like a man determined to win her over, desperate for her to stay. Keeping her close, he drew back and stared deep into her eyes, as if to will her to accept his offer.

And she knew she would not be able refuse.

“Does that help you make your decision?” A long shiver traveled up and down her body. Oh yes, it did. A thousandfold. “Come back to the castle. Stay with me tonight. Sleep with me, in the real sense of the word. At least once. Please. I need you.”

Rowena felt the heat of his body and the strength of her own desire for him. Added to the sensations his kiss had awoken in her, it made his offer impossible to resist. She made a strangled sound he obviously interpreted as an agreement and kissed her again. This time it was not a plea but the seductive ploy of a lover. She wondered briefly if he was not about to take her right here, on the grass. The notion sent a flutter of anticipation low in her belly. If he wanted to make her his, she would allow him.

But he drew away.

“I have to go,” he rasped, leaving his forehead in contact with hers.

Yes, he had to, Rowena agreed, otherwise she would be the one tumbling him onto the ground, out here in the forest for all to see. She cleared her throat and clenched her teeth before she could grab his tunic and draw him into another kiss.

William shook his head. “There is something I must do today, but I will be back before nightfall. Wait for me in bed.”

In bed.

The words were heavy with promise. They caused a quiver of anticipation to flutter inside her. “I will.”

He gave her one last, desperate kiss before disappearing through the bushes the way he had come, leaving her panting with a longing mingled with familiar anxiety. Until her encounter with William, she would never have thought such a thing possible, but she actually wanted a man to make love to her.

This man.

His kiss had been almost like lovemaking, and what she remembered from his caresses told her she had nothing to fear from him. He would be gentle. He would be patient.

And in his arms, she would finally overcome her fears.

*

“William. Over here.”

The feminine voice was not the one William had expected—or wished—to hear upon his return to the castle. He muffled a curse and joined Cwenhild. She had hidden her precious gown and bejeweled hair under a cloak that, judging from its simplicity, must belong to one of her maids. In this attire she was unrecognizable. His suspicion was instantly roused. Why this need for secrecy?

“What are you doing here?” It was the first time she had come to find him at his castle and she risked a lot by coming here.

“I must speak to you.”

He gave a curse. When he had announced the end of their affair, he had guessed she would not leave it at that, but he had not imagined she would pursue him all the way here.

“We have nothing to say to each other,” he said, barely concealing his irritation.

His body was still humming from the girl’s embrace and the last thing he wanted right now was to deal with Cwenhild. She belonged to his past. His future was with the Saxon girl, he was certain of it. Whatever happened tonight would mark a new chapter in their life because he would not be content with making love to her just the once. That damn dagger of hers had not left any trace on his skin but all the same, she had carved herself a place into his heart.

From the moment they met he’d wanted her. And now that they had kissed, everything had been turned on its head. The desire he felt for her had become an all-consuming need, something that transcended simple physical craving.

William had never kissed anyone with such desperation before. The other women he’d had in his arms had already accepted they wanted him. They had no reason to shy away from the fact. Kissing had been part of a seductive game, or a prelude to lovemaking, nothing more.

Not with her.

With her it had been different. New. Exciting, the beginning of something life-changing. Today he had kissed a girl who could vanish at any moment, who wasn’t sure what she wanted. So much more had been at stake. He’d kissed her to erase any lingering doubts she might harbour about him.

At first, she’d remained rather stiff in his arms, seemingly surprised by the intensity of his embrace, then she had softened against him. Her body had found its place against his as naturally as it did at night, as easily as her soul had molded itself around his during their time together. They belonged together, he was sure of it.

This first kiss only made it more imperative that she should allow him to make love to her at last, and then stay by his side. Fortunately, she’d agreed to spend one more night with him. He would make sure that one night turned into many days of happiness.

Leaving her when he’d finally gotten her where he wanted had been torture. But he could not have taken her out in the open. Anyone could have come upon them. Besides, Eilmund was waiting for him in the great hall. He could not afford to delay any longer.

And now this!

“There was no need to come all this way to see me,” he told Cwenhild. “We have nothing to say to each other.”

“We never did, but we always found a way to spend the time.” This last comment, pertinent though it was—or rather because it was pertinent—did little to encourage him to be patient with her. She saw it and amended her statement. “I know you do not want to see me anymore, but there is something I need to tell you.”

“Then tell me, and be done with it,” he snapped.

“I cannot, not here.”

“Then you’ve come for nothing and I suggest you leave. I have business to attend to.”

She stopped him with a hand on his arm when he made to walk past her. She glanced around her nervously, checking that no one was within hearing range. “I think I am with child,” she whispered in his ear. “Now will you persist in your refusal to listen?”

William’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

No.

Not this, not now.

“Why would a child of yours be of any concern of mine?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She pursed her lips. “Because you are the father. My husband will consider it a miracle to see me swell with his child, considering we have not slept together in months. Usually miracles are well received, but I am not sure this one will be.”

William gave a muffled series of curses. He had put an end to that ill-advised affair too late after all. In his folly he had fathered a child onto a married woman, the wife of a man he was trying to win around to his ways, a man he was trying to convince Normans could be trustworthy allies, instead of arrogant invaders.

A few moments of madness would ruin months of effort. After that, he would not blame Ecberg for thinking William a traitor and a liar. It seemed that Cwenhild did not belong to his past after all. There was a very real possibility she would be part of his future as well.

As the mother of his child.

“I will have to speak to your husband,” he said through gritted teeth. Saying the meeting would be unpleasant was an understatement. He had little choice but to face his responsibilities and do the right thing by Cwenhild, however. He would not be a coward. “I will not let you face him alone.”

He had expected her to be relieved at this show of support, but her eyes grew wide with anguish.

“Wait, no! I am not absolutely certain yet. We need to speak calmly about it and find a solution. That’s what I came to tell you.” She threw a quick glance toward the door where servants came and went. Indeed, this was not the right moment or the right place for such an important discussion. “Come and see me tonight. Do not speak to my husband until we cannot avoid it. It might never come to that in the end.”

This last comment made him frown. She seemed panicked at the idea of him confronting her husband. That was, perhaps, understandable, as the news was bound to send him into a rage, but there was something about her urgency that made William think. If she was so adamant they should wait until she was certain she had fallen with child, why had she come now?

“All right, I will not see your husband just yet,” he agreed reluctantly. “I will come to you tonight, although perhaps we should wait until you know for sure.”

“No, it has to be tonight. Come to the disused barn by the stables. My husband is away, so there will be no chance of being caught.”

“We will not be caught as we will do nothing but talk,” he told her sternly.

Was that what she had in mind? Luring him into her arms one last time? It would never happen. The only woman he would bed tonight was the Saxon girl. He had promised he would come to her and nothing Cwenhild attempted would make him break his word.

“I need to know I can rely on you if I do have to face my husband,” she pleaded.

“Yes, you can.”

As much as he disliked the idea of having a child with Cwenhild, he would stand by her if she truly was carrying his child. He would not let her face Ecberg’s wrath alone.

An image of the Comtesse de Vallon being kicked by her husband flashed through William’s mind. Though she had been unfaithful to him, she had not deserved such a treatment. He would not run the risk of Cwenhild being injured when the blame for their affair was shared.

He would meet her tonight, for he wanted his mind to be clear when he went to the Saxon girl, and there were a few things he wanted to ascertain for himself. For one, he wanted to know the state of affairs between Cwenhild and her husband. William had been surprised to hear she’d not shared her husband’s bed for months. Such a piece of information would surely have been mentioned when she had tried to ensnare him if that were true.

Secondly, he wanted to be sure she did not have any other lovers. Was he the baby’s father or was it someone else? Experience had taught him not to be na?ve.

“Yes. I will meet you later,” he said before walking away.