Page 8 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

Rowena was met with hostility everywhere she went. The people employed at the castle seemed to agree their master was demeaning himself by taking a Saxon girl to his bed. The women’s disapproval was tinged with jealousy, the men’s with lust. She almost wished they knew the truth about the reason for her presence by William’s side. At least they might stay clear of her if they believed her to be dangerous.

To make matters worse, they did not seem to credit her with any intelligence whatsoever. Though they had seen her converse with William often over the last couple of days, they spoke to her as if she barely understood what they said and stared at her in astonishment when she answered back in their language.

In her frustration, she rebelled and went on with the pretense she could not understand their instructions when it suited her. She peppered her speech with Saxon words, something she never did with William.

On the morning of the third day, two maids planted themselves in front of her when she crossed the courtyard and blocked her way. The tallest one spoke first.

“We are going to change the sheets in the master’s bedchamber. I bet you have not slept in such finery before,” she said, smoothing her hand over the soft wool she was holding. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you slept with the pigs at home.”

“Leave it, she doesn’t know what you’re saying, and she’s not in the master’s bed to sleep anyway,” her friend said brusquely. “Though I’ll be damned if I understand what he sees in her. There is no accounting for tastes, I suppose, but my brother told me he would not take a Saxon if he was stranded with one on a boat in the middle of the sea, and he’s had more than his share of women.”

They managed to sound offensive, condescending, and crude at the same time. Rowena’s temper flared.

“Just make sure the sheets are properly cleaned this time. The linen I found when I arrived would not be deemed fit to wipe our bottoms with,” she answered in her best Saxon accent. “And I’m sure your master would not be pleased to know you spend your days talking about what happens in his bed rather than attend to your duties. As for your brother, I’m sure he’s lying to you. No woman of sense would let him anywhere near with that foul breath.”

The maids inhaled in shock and disappeared without a word.

“What was that?”

Rowena gave a start. Damnation . If she had known William was watching she would not have let herself be riled so. “I-I had to say something. Everyone here behaves so rudely toward me. The maids told me… I cannot tell you what they told me.”

“No need, I heard them.”

There was a hint of ice in his voice, and she could tell he disapproved. He would address the maids about their behavior later, she was sure of it. It gave her the courage to carry on.

“Your people seem to consider it below their dignity to address me, yet take a perverse pleasure in doing so. They seem to think I am no more intelligent than an animal. I would hate to disappoint them.”

“Ah. Hence the outlandish accent and unintelligible Saxon mutterings.” He sounded no longer perplexed but rather amused. “I was wondering.”

“I am glad you find it diverting.”

“Can you tell me how the people here are supposed to think you educated and refined when you talk like that in their presence? I daresay they have never heard anyone talk about wiping their bottoms before.” His lips stretched into a smile.

“What they think of my intelligence is the least of my problems. I am more concerned about what they think of my morals.” She was stung, and did not try to hide it. “You heard how they spoke to me, but that was nothing. I have heard much worse.”

“I can imagine.” The ice was back. “But then again, they think you are my mistress. Of course they would assume we do more in bed than sleep. They probably imagine us locked in all sorts of erotic games where I submit you in a perverse display of power, just to show you who is master.”

In anyone else’s mouth the words would have been unbearably crude. Spoken in his silky voice, they created a ripple of longing inside her. She forced herself to ignore it.

“If you do not approve of how your servants speak to me, why did you not intervene?” She would have enjoyed seeing the two women upbraided by the man they considered like a god.

But why would he take her defense? Because he had saved her from peril once? It was foolish of her to expect anything from him, because of course he did not owe his would-be killer his protection.

“Need I remind you that, contrary to what people believe, you are not here to enjoy my favors but because you tried to kill me?” His stern answer echoed her thoughts. “You are not my mistress, you are not sharing my bed for my pleasure, or yours. I’m sure you will agree that I am under no obligation to aid the people who want to see me dead in their petty squabbles with servants.”

Even if it hurt Rowena to acknowledge it, he was right. “I see,” she mumbled, thoroughly chastened.

William gave a sigh, something that might have sounded like a surrender in another man. “If you must know, I did not intervene because I thought you were doing quite a good job on your own,” he said more amenably. “I doubt I could have done better myself. And now, thanks to your efforts, we should sleep in spotless sheets tonight.”

*

“I have found a use for you,” William announced without preamble.

The altercation with the maids that morning had given him an idea, and he had gone to find the girl at the earliest opportunity. He wanted to make her see that he was on the side of the innocents because in this affair, she had been the injured party. She had not provoked the maids, yet they had been unforgivably harsh to her. He had enjoyed seeing her fend for herself with a mixture of dignity and waspishness, but she was not to know that, and he meant to make amends of sorts.

Her eyes widened at his words. “A-a use?”

“Not that,” he soothed, realizing how it must have sounded. “I already told you, I won’t touch you. Although I could be persuaded if you ever wished—”

“No!” She cut him short with a fierceness that made it clear she would never agree to let him bed her.

“No,” he agreed, edging toward her. “You evidently came to my bed to dispose of me at my weakest, not because of an excess of desire for me, so I will not be able to make the most of having you next to me. It’s a shame. I thought you rather liked what we did. As did I.”

The little gasp she gave sent shards of desire shooting straight up his spine. Why did this woman send him in such a flurry of need? It was not as if he was an untried youth on the look out for the first opportunity to indulge his senses. Considering the reason for her presence by his side, this attraction was all the more inexplicable. Respect and desire were the last things he expected to feel for someone who had tried to kill him, yet that was what exactly what he felt for her.

Respect for her courage and ability to remain level-headed in the face of danger.

Desire for a woman he found beautiful.

She flushed and moved farther away from him when he growled low in his chest.

“Are you ever going to tell me what these plans are?” she murmured, not addressing the fact he had been on the verge of pouncing on her.

William nodded slowly, knowing what he was about to say would be a shock to her. “I am to meet with a Saxon lord in a few days. I want you to serve as an interpreter for me.”

She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he had told her he wanted her to train his stallion. “Don’t you have people to do that already?”

Not liking the distance between them, he planted himself in front of her again. “Of course I do. But they are all Norman. Leowald is rather suspicious of my good intentions, and it would serve me well to have you by my side. Having a Saxon as an ally would present me in a much more favorable light.”

“I’m an ally now? I thought I was a sent assassin?”

“Leowald doesn’t need to know the particulars of our meeting.” William could not help an appreciative smile. “As long as you refrain from stabbing me in his presence, I do not think he will identify you as a potential killer.”

“No but he might help me if I decided to threaten you.”

His smile broadened at the provocation. Oh, he liked her spirit! It pleased him to see she made no effort to curb her instincts in his presence. Over the last few days, she had obviously come to see he was more even-tempered than she had feared and concluded that a man who had not hurt her when he had found her in possession of a dagger would not cut her throat just for asking a question.

“I have no doubt that he would,” he agreed, eager to show she was right not to be afraid of his temper. “At the moment he feels obliged to indulge me, but really he would prefer to see me and all my damned Norman race dead.”

“Why take the risk of meeting with him if he wants to kill you?”

“I have every confidence in my ability to defend myself. In any case, we won’t be alone, and I will be ready for an attack this time, not half naked and without my sword. I will be in a much less vulnerable position with him than I was with you. He lacks the charms needed to lure me into bed.”

The girl let out a croak then blushed and covered her mouth with her hand. Something in him softened. She really was delightful. Then another part of him hardened, because she was also impossibly alluring.

“All my interpreters are men. It would be better to use a woman in this instance,” he continued, refusing to dwell on that.

“Why is that?”

“Leowald will not credit you with the same acumen as my other interpreters. I believe he suspects them to twist his words in order to try and influence my decisions in favor of Normans, but he will never imagine that you could possibly be intelligent enough to try and do anything other than dumbly relay his words to me.”

“How very flattering.” She made a grimace.

“Isn’t it? Though of course that is Leowald’s point of view. I did not say I shared it.”

“Does it mean you believe me capable of more than dumbly translating words from one language to another?”

“Oh, much more. You have already shown that you can think on your feet,” he purred. “Or on your back as the case may be.”

The allusion to the way she had enticed him into bed, then followed his wicked instructions caused the girl to gasp out loud.

“How dare you speak to me thus?” She bunched her fists.

“You are taking exception to the way I speak to you?” William barked a laugh. “I would have thought you weren’t in a position to do anything else than to beg for my clemency. I could have you arrested, or worse, for trying to kill me.” He shook his head to indicate he did not intend to do so. Nevertheless, she needed to understand he was being exceptionally lenient—and she, utterly unreasonable. “A Saxon girl attempting to kill a Norman lord… You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

She would be killed. The Norman barons were ruthless in their bid to ascertain their domination over her country. If he brought the girl to his peers explaining what she had done, they would not hesitate in showing her who was master now.

He could not allow this. Being punished was one thing, being humiliated quite another. Besides, she hadn’t actually done anything to him yet. He had not even seen her with the dagger in hand.

“Hand me over then.” Though she was at his mercy, she seemed determined not to beg.

Good. He liked people with backbones.

“Not yet. I told you I had plans for you. Leowald will be here in a few days. You are safe until then.”

*

The mirror of polished silver was truly a marvelous object. Rowena walked to the corner of the room where the light was brightest before looking at herself. She had never seen her face so clearly before, there was no comparison between the image staring at her now and the blurry reflection she had glimpsed in rippling pools and puddles.

Fascinated, she contemplated the oval of her face, in which her blue eyes seemed to take half the space. Her nose was bigger than she would have liked but at least it was straight. Her mouth surprised her for she had never imagined it would look so full and inviting. Her lips had the same plumpness she had admired on many women before and their rosy color was most becoming.

With some surprise Rowena realized she was staring at a beautiful young woman.

Still looking in the mirror, she lifted her chin and turned her head every which way, trying to capture the image from all angles and imprint it in her memory. Now she would know what people saw when they looked at her. It was both intriguing and unnerving. She tried to smile and found she could not.

“Do you like what you see?” A deep, masculine voice cut through the contemplation.

Feeling caught out, she replaced the mirror on the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

William made one of his elegant waves of the hand, indicating she had done nothing wrong. “It’s no issue.”

“Only… I have never seen my face like this before,” she explained, heat creeping up her neck.

“Then you don’t know what you were missing. What do you think?”

The question took her aback, but less so than the comment. Had he just said he thought her beautiful? Yes, he had. “I suppose it’s h-harmonious,” she stammered.

“Harmonious,” he repeated, sounding suspiciously like he was mocking her choice of word. “I think it’s much better than harmonious.” He walked over to her and traced a path from her temple to the point of her chin with a light finger. “It’s beautiful.”

Rowena was rooted to the spot by his caress and the fire dancing in his eyes. Then he allowed his thumb pad to rest on her bottom lip, and his eyes widened.

Hers must have popped out of her head at the sensation this simple gesture provoked in her. Something loosened in the pit of her stomach. She took a step back and gave a little cough. The sensual smile he threw her in response had a devastating effect on her. She felt short of breath and hot all at once. Shockingly, she understood that if he decided to tumble her into his bed right now, she wouldn’t push him away. The notion made her shiver in self-loathing. Her attraction for this man was infuriating and degrading, but she simply could not help it.

Even more surprising was the appeal she exerted over him.

For a reason that passed her understanding, William seemed quite taken with her. There was a glint of desire in his eyes when he looked at her that could not easily be explained. As it served her purpose, she had not stopped to wonder what it was about her that could appeal to a refined nobleman like him, but he did seem drawn to her.

And he had just called her beautiful.

“Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?” she asked, hoping to gloss over her embarrassment.

He tilted his head and gave her a grin that turned her insides to jelly. “I have.”

“And what did you think of your face?”

“I suppose it’s…” His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. He was about to copy her earlier, bland response. “Adequate.”

Adequate. Yes, he was punishing her for asking a stupid question. How could he not know how good he looked? He was by far too self-assured and confident not to have seen the effect he had on women. It was not hard to imagine he’d been told many times how attractive he was.

“The mirror was bequeathed to me by grandmother,” he told her softly.

“I am not sure what that word means. Bequeathed .”

“It means she left it to me when she was dying.” His eyes sparkled, as if he’d enjoyed the way she had repeated the unfamiliar word.

It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed he liked the way she spoke.

“You have never considered learning our language, since you now live here?”

“I have, and I manage a reasonable level of understanding. But I have never found the time to learn to speak properly. Perhaps I should. It would certainly help in pacifying the relations between Norman barons and Saxons lords. Are you saying you would like to teach me?”

“No.”

He barked a laugh at her uncompromising answer. “Of course. How could I forget? You didn’t come to me in a bid to improve my linguistic abilities.”

The comment brought a smile to her lips, a smile she found difficult to hide. What was it about this man that made it impossible for her to think straight? Or remain composed?

Or hold on to what had become the aim of her life?

She remained immobile in front of him, utterly under the spell of the moment.

“We will have to get you another dress,” he declared, spanning her waist between his hands, bunching the fabric as he did. Rowena could not rid herself of the notion that he was fighting the urge to do much more. She swallowed hard. “One that actually fits you. This one is far too big.”

“It’s not a problem,” she breathed.

His gaze fastened onto her half-exposed breasts. “Not for you, perhaps, but for me…” He shook his head, as if regretting the comment. “Anyway, you should feel more comfortable in clothes that do not swamp you.” His fingers tightened around her. Another moment and he would draw her into a kiss, she could sense it. Should she let him? Of course not! Why was she even wondering?

“It doesn’t matter what I wear,” she said hurriedly, disentangling herself from his embrace. “I need to go.”

The situation was fast slipping through her fingers. She was unnerved by William’s scrutiny, seduced by his easy manners, and they were in his private chamber, with no one to see or interrupt them. He gave her a slanted look that proved he was aware of her wariness—and why she was wary. The irony of the situation was not lost on her.

He should have been the one wary of her, as she was the one determined to kill him, not the other way around.

“Where do you need to go? What requires your attention so urgently?” He tilted his head. “My murder? You don’t need to leave to accomplish it. I’m right here.”

Rowena refused to be ridiculed. “And where do you go when you are not with me, I wonder?” she asked, instead of answering. “What does your life consist of? Do you have any occupations apart from keeping me prisoner?”

“I do, as it happens. I visit local lords, travel the land to assess what needs to be done.”

“This is all part of your conciliation program, I take it?” She had heard about it from the servants who had expressed their outrage at the notion. Why did the mighty Norman stoop so low as to accommodate ungrateful Saxons?

“Of course.” Far from being ruffled, William smiled. “You sound as if you disapprove.”

“Do I?”

“You do.” The smile widened. “So let me ask you again. Do you disapprove of my trying to conciliate the Saxon lords and rein in the Norman barons’ greed and violence, or do you merely consider the enterprise doomed?”

She didn’t know what to answer. No one had ever asked her opinion on such weighty matters before. Her stepfather, for all his involvement with the Norman barons, had never once thought to enquire about his wife or stepdaughter’s opinion. That William of all people should want to discuss his plans with her took her aback.

But now she thought about it, his approach actually met with her approval. The Norman barons had antagonized the Saxon lords for long enough. In the last twenty years, the situation of her countrymen had rapidly deteriorated. Their lands had been seized, their villages burned, their livestock taken away, their women despoiled. She could only side with someone who considered them as reasonable people who might be prepared to cooperate rather than savages to be tamed at all cost.

“No, I don’t disapprove. How could I? I’m a Saxon myself. But I am curious as to why you would bother. Few Normans would.”

“As I have already told you, I like to think that I am not like most men. But you are probably not the best person to be told this since you consider me dangerous enough to be killed,” he said, once again displaying his amazing capacity for self-deprecation.

Rowena had no idea what to answer. She had never met anyone less easily riled than he was. And she had no idea how to deal with it.

The only thing she could think of was fleeing.

“Indeed. And I bid you good day.”