Page 9 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

“I found these amongst the master’s dirty linens. I guess now we know what he did yesterday, and for once it’s not one of his wretched diplomatic missions with the Saxons!”

The plump girl giggled. Her friend, however, seemed more scandalized than amused.

“For shame! What lady would forget herself so much as to let him take these from her?”

From her sitting place, Rowena spied on the maids handling some kind of delicate lady’s garment she could not identify. Stockings perhaps? As she did not want to risk being seen by stretching her neck for a closer look, she remained where she was.

They had come into the room to light the fire and were seemingly unaware she sat in the corner, hidden in the shadows. The sun had yet to rise fully, and if she did not move, they might not see her.

“Who cares about propriety? She is a lucky lady, whoever she is. He could take what he wanted from me. I would leave his room without a stich on if he made me moan like he does the ladies he takes to his bed. God knows what he does to them to make them lose all sense of shame, but I wouldn’t mind finding out one day.”

“Hush! This is shocking talk.”

“Don’t tell me you would refuse Lord William if he asked you to bed?” the first one challenged with her hands on her hips.

“Well,” her friend admitted with a smile. “I’m not made of wood.”

They both dissolved into a fit of giggles that left them a bit breathless. A moment later they were gone.

Two things were clear from that conversation, Rowena mused as she made her way to the main hall. One, William was a notorious lover, renowned for his prowess in bed. The fact surprised her little for, unlike the maids, she had more than an inkling of what he did to make women moan and forget themselves.

Secondly, he had lied about his occupation the previous afternoon. He had not gone to see a Saxon lord as part of his conciliation program, he had been busy with a woman. So much for his laudable intentions. To think he’d had the nerve to ask her if she disapproved of his activities.

Well, if they consisted of his seducing the local womenfolk for his own selfish purposes, she did disapprove. It was disappointing and demeaning.

Fueled with resentment, she pushed the door of the main hall open and found him alone. He was writing a letter by the window, making the most of the sunlight starting to pour in. His profile carved against the stone wall was as delicate as an angel’s. For a moment she lost herself in contemplation. Why did this man she had sworn to kill have to be so attractive?

“I know you did not go the valley yesterday,” she started, pushing these unhelpful considerations out of her mind. It did not matter what he looked like. Should not matter. “Or at least if you did it was not to discuss politics with a Saxon lord. Instead, you spent the afternoon with a woman.”

“Did I?”

If she had thought to provoke a reaction, she was disappointed. He did not lift his head from the letter, but continued writing.

“Didn’t you?”

This time he paused and threw her a challenging glance. “So when you said you knew, you lied. You were only trying to find out where I was.” He resumed his writing, but a smile was now floating on his lips.

A smile she wanted to wipe right off.

“Is that part of your conciliation endeavors? You aim to acquire the female population’s support by sleeping with them? How far along are you? How many women are left to bed? You must be exhausted!”

“I see that you would like me to tell you more about my, shall we say, personal life.” At last, he put his quill down and stood up. “In which case you could have just asked.”

“I am not interested in your…” She stopped, unable to find a word in his language for what she wanted to say. She wasn’t sure she knew one in hers. “But you lied to me about what you did yesterday.”

“What if I did? I do not see why I should be accountable to you for the way I spend my days. A wife might have a right to object to my affairs, but certainly not you, a woman who wants me dead.” He walked over to her with predatory intent. “Or are you telling me you want me to remain celibate while you live under my roof? It would be harsh. After all, it is not as if I could indulge my senses with you.”

This was getting too dangerous. Rowena took a step backward, cursing the impulse that had made her challenge him on such a delicate issue. She would never get out of this conversation unscathed.

“I have nothing further to say to you,” she mumbled.

He laughed at that. “I’m relieved to hear it. I confess I was already bracing myself for another scolding.”

“No need. I will leave you to your correspondence.”

With those words she left the room, determined to put some distance between them. She needed to put some order to her confused feelings, and it would not happen in his presence. Why did the idea of him taking a woman to bed upset her so? She suspected she would not like the answer to that question, so she tried to push it out her mind.

A moment later she found herself by the river at the base of the hillock, having no idea how she had ended up there. It was the first time she’d left the castle since arriving, but today, she needed to be on her own and not think about the tall, handsome, infuriating Norman who had become her whole world. A wade in cold water might help. Without further ado she kicked her shoes and stockings off.

Ice-cold water wrapped around her calves when she stepped into the shallow pool, stealing her breath. How on earth had she not fallen ill after her prolonged dip in such an unholy temperature? She had no idea.

While she watched the meanderings of a leaf bobbing on the water, a gleam caught her eye. Something was glittering in the river. She picked her way over the slippery pebbles toward it and fished out a gold ring. The cold metal warmed in her hand while she looked at it. It was a lovely piece of jewelry, a woman’s ring, and almost new. Without trying it on she knew the intricately carved band would fit her.

Could she keep it? It would not be stealing, she reasoned. The woman who had lost it would never find it now. A lady, undoubtedly. No peasant would possess such a precious item. It did not belong to the likes of her, but she could not resist its appeal. She slipped it on.

Captivated by the way it caught the rays of the sun, Rowena smiled to herself. Yes, she would keep it. After all, what harm could it do?

The answer to that question was not long in coming.

When she returned to the castle, the great stallion Thunder was in the hands of a groom, having his mane brushed. So William was still there. Her heart gave a jolt, and her pace quickened. Almost as soon as she came into the hall, his eyes fastened onto the ring with the accuracy of a hawk.

“What is this?” Before she could move, he had walked up to her and grabbed her wrist. “Who gave you this?”

“No one. I found it in the river, wedged between two rocks,” Rowena answered, knowing he would never believe her.

His eyes lit with a dangerous gleam. “Of course you did. You are telling me that after your near-drowning, you felt the urge to go back to the river and that while you were there, you just happened to find a ring?”

“Yes, I am, as it is the truth.”

“And not just any ring,” he carried on, as if he had not heard her answer. He brought her fingers even closer to him as he spoke to examine the band.

“What do you mean?” she asked, more affected than she would have liked by the feel of his hand wrapped around hers.

“This is a precious ring, and the design is unmistakably Norman. Therefore, I repeat. Who did you see today? Whose orders are you following?”

Rowena instantly regretted keeping the ring, for William’s suspicions were renewed. He was more convinced than ever she was under someone’s pay. She would never convince him it was not the case now. He would not let her go until he had found proof of her allegiance.

It would take forever, of course, for she was not obeying anyone’s orders.

“You are hurting me,” she protested.

“My grip must be stronger than I know.” William’s grin didn’t reach his luminous eyes; he knew she was lying, but he relaxed his hold on her wrist somewhat. “Now, do you still expect me to believe you are not here at someone else’s orders?”

“Yes,” Rowena replied in a voice as steely as his. She had no idea how to get herself out of this. “I am not a liar.”

“You will allow me to reserve judgment on a woman who used her charms to lure me into bed.” His voice had gone softer than silk and all the more dangerous for it. “Still, even considering the plans you had for me, I cannot regret asking you to expose yourself to me.”

This crude comment gave her the strength to snatch her hand away. In that moment, if she’d had a dagger in hand, she would have lunged at him.

“Well, I do regret it. And it will not happen again.”

With those words, she turned and fled back to his room.

*

Well, I do regret it. And it will not happen again.

This, William could well believe. The girl seemed more determined than ever to fight any desire she might feel for him. Or… did she really feel desire? He was not quite certain. True, on the night of their first meeting, she had not tried to keep him at arms’ length, rather the opposite, but there was an explanation for this—she had been waiting to get him into a vulnerable position.

Even at the time, he’d wondered at her compliance. That she had been new to the experience of baring her body to a man and pleasuring herself had been obvious. However, she had not protested, and instead followed his every instruction. Unaware of her ulterior motive, he’d attributed this eagerness to a state of arousal as high as his, but he had since been forced to reconsider this first impression.

That night, she would have agreed to anything as long as it got her in a position to do what she was sent to do, namely kill him. What a blow to his pride. She had not found his touch irresistible, she had only obeyed her master’s instructions.

And yet…

And yet she had surrendered to the pleasure he had given her, that was undeniable. He could not forget how her body had pulsed under his caresses. This could not have been feigned. Whatever her reasons for submitting to his touch, she hadn’t been able to fight her longing for more. The way she’d arched her back in silent supplication had made it clear. She’d wanted him to make love to her.

It might have been that once he’d touched her, she’d changed her mind and decided to make the most of the opportunity, wait until after he’d possessed her to kill him. After all, he would have been just as vulnerable immediately after doing so, if not more.

He thought back to the ring she claimed to have found.

Up until this moment, William had imagined the girl to be sent by a Saxon lord but now he was not so sure. It seemed obvious she’d been given the ring as payment for her services, but a Saxon would never give her a Norman jewel.

Was he in fact targeted by a Norman baron, one of his own people? Was this why the girl spoke his language so fluently, because she was in league with a disgruntled Norman who had taught her himself? It was a possibility. His attempts at conciliation with the local population were not popular with all the barons, far from it. Some of them were bent on violence and did not take it too kindly to be denied their sport.

There was another explanation for the ring though.

If Cwenhild could choose one of his countrymen for her pleasures, why would this other Saxon girl not do the same? She might have bought a rich Norman’s protection with her body. She was certainly beautiful enough to make any man do her bidding.

William allowed himself a moment to picture her as she’d been a moment ago, ablaze with indignation. Magnificent.

To replace Adèle’s old dress, he’d found an emerald bliaut which fit her slender frame much better, and not a moment too soon. It had been maddeningly distracting to see more of her body than was decent. The swell of her breasts was just too provoking to be framed by a gaping collar.

It had not been easy to choose the perfect dress, however. The girl’s smooth skin would have put the finest silk to shame and no color was vibrant enough to compete with the fire in her hair or the sparkle in her eyes. In the end, he’d settled on a green linen that was so finely spun, it flowed almost like water every time she moved.

William gave a sigh. It had been a mistake to choose such finery for her. His gaze was drawn to her just as often as it had been in the shapeless woolen dress, if not more. Perhaps a dress that hugged her in all the right places was not an improvement. It only made keeping his untimely urges in check more difficult. Talking about sharing her bed had not helped either, or the hint of jealousy he’d glimpsed in her eye when she’d accused him of seducing Saxon ladies. That had been a surprise. He had not expected her to care about the women he took to his bed… but then, neither had he expected to care about the men she would take to hers, Norman or not.

But he did more than care.

Things were deteriorating, fast. With each passing day his infatuation toward her grew, to the point of making him forget about his intention to discover who she was or who had sent her.

An idea struck him.

Could he win her around and get her to betray whoever had sent her? Only the day before, she had said she approved of his efforts, so it was not impossible. She might come to see she was better off helping him in his endeavors than disposing of a man willing to treat her countrymen decently. It was worth a try.

And once he had her on his side, he should not find it difficult to find out more about her, starting with her name. In his mind she was still “the Saxon girl” and because she had not revealed anything about herself, he was forced to put together a picture of her personality with the few elements he’d gathered over the last few days.

Her innocence was the most noticeable thing about her. Her age undoubtedly accounted for it. She could not be much more than twenty years old. The second trait of character he’d noted was her uncommon courage.

She was brazen in her attitude in front of him, almost to the point of foolhardiness. As a man of some spirit himself, he could not help but admire this. She was also not easily deterred. Anyone less determined would have concluded her chances of success were now extremely slim and given up. But she had not tried to escape, though his security arrangements were lax to say the least.

That was another thing. Why was he so lax? He should have her under lock and key, he should use coercion and intimidation, not give her the choice of whether to answer his questions or not. Starting with the one about her elusive master’s role in her life.

Determined to find out if she enjoyed the man’s favors without delay, he stormed toward his chamber. This time he would get answers.

He found the girl standing by the window. As he could have predicted, she did not turn around when he entered. His mood darkened further.

“Do you have a lover, a Norman baron? Did you go to him today? Is that where you got the ring? Did he reward your services in bed?” he demanded, coming to a halt within touching distance of her. “Did you tell him what I did to you at Old Sarum and how you came undone? Does he know that you sleep in my bed at night—in my arms? Should I expect him to come and kill me himself for stealing his property?”

Anger flared in the blue eyes when she finally looked at him. “I am no one’s property!”

“No, but are you someone’s mistress?” he roared, taking her by the shoulders, barely repressing the urge to shake her like a tree. Right now, it was all he cared about. “Answer me.”

She seemed taken aback by the violence of his outburst, as well she might. He could usually control himself better. But William was furious at the notion that another man might share her bed and get to enjoy the treasures she had to offer.

Treasures she was denying him.

“No, I do not have a lover, Norman or otherwise.” Her voice was calm despite the color on her cheeks. “And I will not hear another word of your accusations. I told you I found the ring in the river. I told you I was not sent by anyone. You will have to believe me. If you are unable to accept my word, then there is nothing I can do.”

His temper exploded at her defiance. “Christ, sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you Saxons! It has brought me nothing but trouble.”

“Then why don’t you and all your friends go back to Normandy? You wouldn’t be missed,” she snapped back. “Why are you even here, if it’s so unpleasant?”

A bitter taste invaded his mouth. The conversation had taken yet another turn. “I could tell you I came here to seize an opportunity in a country where Norman nobles are given lands and privileges by the new king,” he answered slowly.

“And I could pretend to believe you. Or you could tell me the truth.”

“The truth… No one has ever asked me that before. Men don’t usually question my explanations.”

“Men.” She snorted.

Composure restored, William regarded her with a tilt of the head. “You do not think much of men, do you?”

“No. They tend to be self-centered, aggressive, lecherous fools.”

“Now I know where I stand,” he said with a reluctant smile. “If such is your opinion of men, I doubt the real reason of my presence here will do much to restore your faith in us.”

“Let me guess. You killed someone, and you had to flee for your life. You didn’t think about glory and opportunities when you crossed the British Sea; you just wanted to save your neck.”

“Yes,” he said, crossing his arms on his chest. “That is a fair summary of the situation.”