Page 7 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

When William opened the door later on, Rowena was safely tucked under the covers. No provocative pose tonight, no brazen invitation. If he’d expected her to welcome him in bed with open arms, he would be disappointed; she had made sure only the top of her head was peeping out from under the furs.

The message was clear. She did not want to look at him, she didn’t want to be here, and he was not to touch her. How would he deal with it? Women usually slept in men’s beds to be seduced. How was he to handle the unpleasant novelty of having to remain chaste while lying next to someone who appealed to his senses?

Despite his promise not to touch her, he was still a man. His reason might tell him to respect her wishes, but his body was less easily controlled, as she felt when he slipped under the covers. Something hot and hard brushed against her buttocks when he turned to the side.

Rowena forced herself not to recoil and pretended to be asleep, even if she guessed he would not be fooled. After a while, he placed a light hand on her hip. Just like the night before, she would not be able to leave the bed without him noticing. She didn’t move a muscle when he touched her, and heard a light chuckle, as if he found her stubbornness amusing.

“Goodnight then,” he said in a deep rumble.

She let out the least convincing snore she had ever heard and was rewarded with another chuckle.

Once Rowena believed William had fallen asleep, she was able to relax marginally. Still, she felt a long way away from sleep. Never had she been in such a quandary. She was meant to kill this man, but how was she to achieve that? She wasn’t supposed to be drawn to him, but how could she not be?

In the end, exhaustion won. The night before she had barely slept, and the traumatizing events of the last two days had taken their toll. It wasn’t long before she succumbed to a deep slumber.

A while later, she woke up shivering. Since her dip in the river, she had not been able to shake the cold off and the furs had slipped from her body. With the moon hidden behind the clouds the room was pitch dark and she had to grope to find the cover. Before she could locate it, a hand closed on her wrist.

“What are you looking for?” William growled, ever alert.

Had he even slept? He sounded fully awake.

“Not my dagger,” she snapped back in annoyance. “I’m cold, if you must know. You have taken all the covers to yourself.”

He gave a grunt in response. “Come here.”

In one move he threw the cover over them both and wrapped his arms around her. Her back molded itself against his body, his legs curled up behind hers. The contact was intimate, but as soon as she felt his heat around her, she knew that she would not balk.

Despite herself, she sighed in contentment. For the first time since the morning, she was comfortable.

Just as she closed her eyes a now familiar chuckle reached her ear.

“No protests? I guess you truly were cold.”

“Yes, I was. And I am also tired,” she answered with more than a touch of tartness. “I would like to get back to sleep now if I may.”

“By all means. I am tired myself.”

But sleep now eluded her. Behind her, William’s body relaxed, and his breathing grew steady once more. Her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and once she was sure he was asleep, she turned to watch him.

His face was a marvel of beauty which fascinated her. How could a powerful, virile man possess such finely chiseled features? It occurred to her that the women who had shared his bed must have also done this once he had fallen asleep—feast their eyes on him during a rare, vulnerable moment.

What would her mother think if she saw her daughter lying in the arms of her husband’s murderer? A tear rolled down her cheek, then another, but she did not dare wipe them off, afraid of waking William if she stirred. He had proved he would be sleeping only lightly, ready to pounce at her slightest move. His decision to keep her close made it clear he trusted in his ability to stop her if she attempted anything, and he was right to be confident. Without any weapon at hand, what could she do?

Rowena had never been in a better position to accomplish her mission, yet so far from success.

When she awoke, the sun was high in the sky and the bed cold. Her whole body was stiff from the previous day’s exertions. Every single one of her muscles protested when she tried to stretch and take stock of her surroundings.

Where had William gone? She quickly checked the door. It was unlocked and unguarded as promised. Her situation had never been more strange. She was a prisoner, but she was free to go. She could do what she wanted, but there was nothing for her to do. She had slept in a man’s arms for the first time, but that man was her enemy. He wanted her, had touched her even, but she was still a virgin.

It was all confusing in the extreme.

A moment later William entered the room. “Are you ready to break your fast?” he asked with a smile.

Incredulity made her blink. Was that all he had to tell her? Next he would ask her if she’d slept well.

“I am.” There was no point in pretending she wasn’t hungry. She would need all her strength for what was ahead of her.

He gave her a long, assessing look which made her feel all but naked. It was perhaps not surprising, considering the dress he’d asked to be brought last night was far too big for her slender frame. It hung loosely over her shoulders, revealing far more of the swell of her breasts than she would have liked, something he had not missed if the grunt he gave was any indication. Before she could ask whether they could find her a different dress, he turned around and led the way into the main hall.

As soon as she sat, she busied herself with choosing a fruit from the basket filled with pears and apples. “Do you have a knife?” she asked, wrapping her fingers over a pear.

“I do.” Something in William’s voice made her look up. He was watching her with glittering eyes. Rowena’s heart skipped a beat.

“But you will not let me have one.”

“Precisely. I am not such a fool. You have, after all, expressed the wish to kill me, and it seems to me that the knife is your weapon of choice. I told you yesterday I could not afford to take the threat you represent lightly. Therefore, you will have to eat your pear whole, I’m afraid, or ask me to cut it up for you.”

“I’m not a child.”

William’s lips curled as if he had anticipated this tart response—perhaps even done his best to provoke it—and enjoyed her reaction. “I know. You already alluded to that fact once. No need to insist. Rest assured I was not mistaking you for one.”

The way his gaze caressed her curves told her he thought her a woman ripe for the plucking. Though she would have liked to disappear into a hole, she forced herself not to betray her confusion.

What was wrong with her? How could she be attracted to this man? He was her enemy, her captor. She should not be aroused by his suggestion that he found her to his tastes.

Very deliberately, she lifted the fruit to her mouth and bit into it. His eyes lit up in acknowledgement of her provocation and he chose a pear for himself. Just as defiantly as she had bitten into hers, he took his knife out and began to peel his.

It was all she could do not to stare at the way his fingers moved around the fruit, taking its skin off in slow, hypnotizing movements. It put her in mind of the sensual way he would disrobe a lady before taking her to bed. Her whole skin covered in goosebumps. With deft gestures, he cut the pear into slices.

Finally, he plunged his gaze into hers and slipped a slice into his mouth.

“Delicious,” he said, licking the tip of his thumb.

Rowena’s insides dissolved, and she almost gasped out loud at the shocking sensation. She could have sworn he had just touched her… there .

“I-I am not hungry anymore.”

She placed the half-eaten fruit on the table and went straight to the courtyard. Mayhap the activity reigning there would help restore some sense into her.

*

When William emerged from the main hall a moment later, he immediately spotted the girl on the wooden palisade. She was gazing into the distance with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Of course she would not have been to a castle before. It was a new construction brought to her country by Guillaume de Normandie—the man who was now her king—and the view from her vantage point likely took her breath away.

William jumped on Thunder before he became lost in contemplation himself. He had other things to do than waste his time gawking at Saxon girls looking at landscapes in wonder. After a short, reckless gallop that cleared his mind, he reached Ecberg of Faldon’s house.

“My husband left early this morning, but we are expecting him presently, my lord.” Ecberg’s wife, Cwenhild, nodded her dismissal to the servant who’d brought him into the house. As soon as they were alone, she placed a hand on William’s chest and nestled close against him. “It’s been a long time. I am glad to see you. Let me show you how much.”

He gritted his teeth at the very overt seduction. “Leave it, I’m not in the mood.”

“That would be a first,” she chuckled, snaking her hand down to the front of his hose.

Before she could reach past his navel, he grabbed her wrist. “I mean it.” There was a steely edge to his voice he rarely used with women. “I came here to see your husband, not you.”

“That has never stopped you before.” Her grin was pure mischief, and though the comment grated, William could only agree with her.

Yes, unfortunately, he had never let it bother him before.

“Perhaps, but it was a mistake.”

That was the least he could say. He had not behaved wisely where Cwenhild was concerned. He had allowed himself to be seduced, in spite of his better judgment. As soon as she had set eyes on him, she’d pursued him relentlessly, exploiting his many visits to her husband to press her advantage.

After weeks of resistance, William had surrendered. The two of them would never have been able to discuss anything of importance, but her knowledge of his language was sufficient for them to conduct an affair.

Of course, some of her arguments had been non-verbal, and all the more potent for it. He suspected her of having had affairs with other Norman barons, for some of her vocabulary was very specific. It galled him that the only time he had let his judgment lapse was with someone who would discard him as soon as she’d found herself a new lover. Had he resisted her for another week, she would have found herself another toy and left him alone, he was certain of it.

“You are calling me a mistake? When you never uttered a word of protest in weeks?”

William gave a sigh. Cwenhild was incandescent with rage, but he could not muster the will to appease her. It was as if she had lost all her appeal overnight.

While she ranted on about his lack of constancy, his mind wandered back to the Saxon girl he had left behind. He still did not know her name, or anything about her, but that didn’t stop him from thinking of her constantly, and this not because he wanted to find out more about her mission, but because of the woman she was.

Did she have a family? Was a father or a brother looking for her? Would anyone come to her aid? What would she be doing today?

He realized too late he had not left any specific instructions as to her safeguarding. Still, he wasn’t unduly worried about her disappearing into the blue. She was not a competent rider so there was little chance of her trying to steal a horse from his stables, and on foot she wouldn’t go far from the castle. His people knew he didn’t want her to leave, even if they did not know why, so he was confident they would not let her out of their sight.

He had not exposed her as a potential killer yet. Everyone probably assumed she was a village girl he’d taken a fancy to and kept for his pleasure. Even though he had never done anything like this before, the other barons were familiar enough with the practice. That was one of the reasons why William wanted to do everything he could to establish a different relationship between the two peoples. Considering how they acted, it was hardly to be wondered at that the Saxons considered his fellowmen as arrogant invaders without principles. He was sick to his soul of seeing the Normans, in other words nobles who should have known how to conduct themselves with honor, behave as if they had every right to plunder the land, rape the women, and humiliate the local population.

A certain amount of force was probably inevitable, but if the new king wanted his hold on the country to be permanent, he should think about controlling his men’s worst excesses.

“I was telling you I would like to have my stockings returned at some point. But you are not listening to me.” Cwenhild’s acid voice cut through his thoughts.

“No, I’m not, but as I did not come to see you, it is little wonder that whatever you have to tell me should be of no interest to me. As to your clothes, if you are so worried about their whereabouts, perhaps you should not remove them so readily.”

This made her eyes widen. William himself was surprised by his snappy answer. He was not one known for losing his temper. He looked at her more closely, wondering how he could ever have thought her desirable. She was beautiful but lacked the simple appeal of another Saxon girl he knew. Everything about Cwenhild was done for effect, there was not an ounce of spontaneity in her. Even the way she spoke set his teeth on edge. It sounded nothing like the melodious speech of the red-haired girl.

He shook his head. Why did everything make him think of her?

He was fast regretting not taking her along with him today. Having her by his side might have stopped his mind from wandering to her constantly. As it was, he could not but help drawing comparisons between her and the woman before him.

Cwenhild would never eat wild hazelnuts as if they were an expensive delicacy or lift her head to the sky to feel the caress of the sun on her skin. She owed all her powers of seduction to costly gowns and heavy jewelry. Though her status was higher, she possessed none of the natural elegance of the Saxon girl. Under her shift were no maddening curves to be caressed or small, pert breasts crowned with rosy tips.

He grew hard just thinking about how good they had tasted in his mouth. He wanted more of them.

Cwenhild saw it, and a smile appeared on her lips. “Even if you are not interested in what I have to say, you might pay attention to what I can do.” She licked her lips and smiled. “Perhaps you are in the mood after all.”

“I told you I wasn’t.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Who is she then? You are clearly aroused. You must be thinking of someone you will see later, if this is not for my benefit. So, who is she?”

William tensed up. This was the opportunity to put an end to his ill-advised affair with Cwenhild once and for all.

“No one that should be of interest to you,” he answered calmly. “But since you force me to talk about her, I am informing you that I will not come to your bed anymore.”

As expected, this announcement did not go well. Cwenhild started to wail and hit at his chest, heedless of who might hear her.

“I’m warning you, William. I will kill you for this humiliation!”

He only smiled.

Oh no. The privilege of killing me belongs to someone else .