Bedded by the Warrior

In deference to the Church, she tempered her response, but she still placed her hand against William’s chest, rose up on her toes and returned his kiss.

His lips were warm, and surprisingly gentle. Unlike other kisses she’d encountered, he did not seek to devour her mouth. William barely moved his mouth against hers, and a flash of liquid heat trailed down her spine.

What had been offered as nothing more than a chaste touch of their lips to seal their vows turned to an unspoken promise of shared desire to come.

The snide whispers faded away as she realised that the notion of shared desire did not overly frighten her. Nor did it repulse her.

Confused, Sarah pulled away slowly. To hide her uncertainty, she graced him with a dazzling smile before turning towards the women. One by one they looked away, giving her an odd sense of satisfaction. For the first time, she’d not been the one to avert her face in shame.

Chapter Two

‘Sarah.’ William’s deep voice floated across her ear. ‘It is time to leave.’

As she turned with him toward the double doors, he grasped her hand, asking, ‘Is there any you wish to bid farewell?’

A curt response at the tip of her tongue, she stared up at him. But the twitch at the corner of his lips, and an amused glint in his eyes, stopped her from speaking. He was teasing her. Had he heard the women’s whispers and laughter? Had he somehow understood how much the venom behind their spiteful mocking hurt her?

She leaned forwards, intentionally craning her neck to look around him at the women, and answered, ‘No. I think not.’

William paused to slip his arm across her tense shoulders and pull her closer before turning his focus towards the surprised women. ‘I fault you not for having sense enough to recognise those unworthy of your time or attention.’

He’d raised his voice enough to be heard, and darkened his tone enough to be understood. Sarah couldn’t be certain of what astonished, or befuddled, her more—his open defence of her, or the looks of shock and shame written on the women’s faces.

After once again starting towards the doors, William looked down at her, and she had the sudden sensation of drowning in his golden-flecked soft brown eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.

Worse was the way her heart raced, and her chest swelled with an emotion she feared to name.

She didn’t know this man, didn’t trust him. She didn’t want to be his wife. She couldn’t possibly feel anything for him. Nothing at all.

When they left the chapel, Sarah eased out from beneath his arm. She needed to keep her distance from him. And needed to remind herself that he was nothing more than a way to complete this last task for the Queen.

William couldn’t help but notice his wife’s sudden withdrawal once they were away from the women’s sight. He’d wondered why she had responded so ardently to his kiss, and now he knew it had been for the women’s benefit—not his.

Why did that knowledge cause a twinge of regret? It wasn’t as if the act of exchanging vows had changed anything between them. Except that one taste of her lips served to make him want more.

‘Sarah, wait.’ He laced his fingers through hers. William knew better than to let her get away from him, since he had the feeling she would once again bolt at the first opportunity.

After Queen Eleanor agreed to his demand, Sarah had run away from him. He couldn’t be certain, but he suspected she’d run after Eleanor to convince the Queen to change her mind. Obviously her attempt had been unsuccessful.

Sarah tried to free her hand, but before she could say anything, a woman William recognised as another of the Queen’s ladies approached.

‘Lady Sarah, this is from the Queen.’ The woman gave Sarah a small pouch.

His wife opened the jewel-adorned bag to glance inside. Her eyes widened before she reached into the pouch to retrieve what appeared to be enough gold to see them well on their way.

When Sarah tried to hand the pouch back, the woman shook her head and refused to take bag. ‘No, it is yours. Queen Eleanor wishes you a safe journey.’ She glanced shyly from William to Sarah. ‘As do I and I wish you well.’

His wife’s expressive eyes widened for less than a heartbeat, but she smiled and said, ‘Thank you.’ Sarah paused, as if uncertain, and then added, ‘I wish you well also, Lady Elise. May your stay here be enjoyable and brief.’

Elise laughed. As she turned to leave, she advised, ‘Daylight will arrive within the hour. You need to be on your way quickly.’

William nodded his acknowledgement of the warning and started for the chamber he shared with the Earl. But Sarah tugged his arm in the other direction. ‘This way is quicker.’

She knew the castle far better, and since her freedom was also at stake, he would trust her judgement in this. ‘Lead on.’

Sarah took them quickly down a semi-lit corridor, which ended at a landing that ran the length of the Great Hall.

William glanced over the railing into the nearly deserted hall below. His breath caught in his throat.

Richard of Langsford and Stefan of Arnyll were deep in conversation as they approached the stairs leading up to the landing.

Without thought, William grabbed Sarah. He ignored her gasp and dragged her into a small, unlit alcove.

The sight of Langsford didn’t bother him. That man was nothing more than a bully and a drunken fool—a useless pawn of the Queen’s in her ceaseless attempts to thwart the Earl.

But Arnyll was another matter. What was that soulless son of the devil doing here?

Like William, Arnyll had also been captured and sold into slavery. When Hugh had won his freedom and the lives of three others, he had requested that Arnyll be included only because the man was a fellow countryman.

William had felt sorry for the smaller man’s plight, when Arnyll had first been tossed into Sidatha’s dungeon. William had taught Arnyll how to use speed and agility to conquer his opponents. The two of them had often been paired together, literally fighting back to back, as one.

However, Arnyll had soon shown his true character. The man had proven to be as bad as, if not worse than, the slave master Aryseeth.

The memory of a scrawny dog that William and some of the others had saved from the cook’s pot flooded his mind. He fought not to tremble like a spineless fool at the memory. They’d hidden the starving mongrel for months—until Arnyll, in a fit of spite over an extra portion of bitter wine given to another, had told Aryseeth of the animal. The very next morning they had all learned how futile their attempts to preserve the dog’s life had been.

The men’s footsteps drew nearer. They were so deep in conversation neither man had noticed William and Sarah on the landing.

William dropped on to a stone bench in the dark corner of the alcove, and pulled Sarah down on his lap. Most times it was near impossible to hide his size. With any luck the appearance of lovers in a private tryst might work. It might also provide the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop on the men’s conversation.

When she pushed against his chest in a futile attempt to escape, he wrapped one arm around her to hold her close. Certain she’d not remain silent for much longer, William wove his fingers through her hair and lowered his mouth to hers.

She gasped against his lips, and he whispered, ‘Be still. I will not harm you, but Arnyll would.’

Sarah frowned. Arnyll? It only took her a few moments to realise that he spoke of Stefan. She’d seen the cur Richard with Stefan in the hall, and had witnessed William’s reaction in confusion.

If these men caused a brute like him to act in such haste, perhaps she’d be wise to follow his lead.

Keeping her voice soft and low, she warned him, ‘This is only for appearances, it is not real.’ She felt him smile against her lips as she raised her arms and clasped her hands behind his head.

She narrowed her eyes, wishing she could see his face in the dark. For a reason she could not name, Sarah had the feeling that his smile would be smug, and that his eyes would sparkle with mischief.

Unfortunately it was becoming apparent that she’d not married a man lacking in wits. That could prove a detriment to her task—and perhaps a danger to her.

Above all else, she needed to make certain William didn’t learn she was still under the Queen’s orders. He would never understand. No man would take kindly to know that, regardless of their vows, their wife still answered to another.

Richard and Stefan’s conversation grew louder as they approached the alcove. Sarah could almost make out some of their words, and what little she heard set her mind spinning. There was disjointed talk of a task being successful.

Only someone involved with court intrigue would be able to make sense of the snatches of overheard conversation. They spoke of the Queen and her, but it was doubtful if William would be able to piece the snatches together.

She hoped his hearing was not as attuned to the hushed voices used at court as hers. Because the task the two men discussed was the one she’d recently failed completing.

They’d done their part—the two of them had kidnapped Adrienna, preventing her from seeking out Wynnedom. Even though none had known about their marriage at the time, all had been aware that the pair were always together. So, the kidnapping had been deemed necessary to enable Sarah to be found in the Earl’s bed.

But some niggling thought had urged Sarah to see to Adrienna’s release. That was when she’d learned about their marriage.

Sarah wasn’t certain if either Richard or Stefan knew she’d been the one to release Adrienna. Nor was she certain they knew of her marriage to Bronwyn. She wasn’t eager to discover what they did or didn’t know.

She moaned softly, so only her husband could hear, and pressed harder against his chest. It was all she could do not to sigh with relief when William relaxed his arm and stroked gentle circles on her back.

Perhaps Queen Eleanor had been right. After all, William was just a man. And maybe like the other men at court he could be easily swayed.

She’d learned early on that a soft smile, a teasing look, or a brief touch against his chest, or arm, went a long way towards convincing a man to see things her way. Seldom had she been forced to resort to making promises that would never be kept.

When Richard and Stefan walked in front of the alcove, her heart beat so hard she thought it would burst. Silently she prayed they would say nothing to give her away. She feared William finding out that she still spied for the Queen more than she feared discovery by these men.

William tightened his fingers against the back of her head and covered her mouth with his lips. Sarah’s pulse raced even faster. There was nothing gentle about the way he held her close, or teased her lips until they parted as if under their own will.

He kissed her thoroughly, wiping away any thought of the men, or the Queen, from her mind. She could think of nothing except the heat rushing through her veins, melting her resolve to keep herself distant from this man she’d wed.

The only thing that filled her mind, the only thing she could concentrate on, was the sure and certain magic of his mouth moving against hers. And on the heady warmth he traced along her lips.

When he ceased his kisses, Sarah quickly realised that he no longer held her close. Instead, she clung to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her hands gripping his shoulders.

She quickly pulled away. Folding her hands in her lap, she drew in a deep breath, seeking a measure of calm against the storm still raging in her chest. Never had a man’s kiss affected her so.

She corrected her earlier assumption about how easily he could be swayed. The Queen had been wrong—William of Bronwyn was not just another man.

‘I think they are gone.’ His breath raced hot against her ear. He leaned closer, to ask in a heated whisper, ‘Are you sure nothing about that kiss was real?’

Sarah nearly lunged from his lap, suddenly wondering if she’d wed a rogue.

He rose from the bench and brushed by her, taking her hand in his as he passed. ‘Come, we need to join Hugh and Lady Adrienna, then leave this court.’

Still uncertain how he had so easily stolen her wits, Sarah wordlessly led him to the chamber.

Chapter Three

Daylight barely filtered through the denseness of the trees when William’s senses alerted him to danger. A quick, but thorough, study of the woods and bramble surrounding them gave no clue to the unease pricking at him. He’d long ago learned to depend on his gut reactions, and while he saw nothing, he was certain they were being followed.

After visually checking on Hugh and Adrienna riding a short distance ahead of them, he glanced across the path at his wife. Her features were as strained as they’d been when leaving Eleanor’s castle. William doubted if her unease was caused by anything more than outrage at being forced to marry him, and her unwitting response to his kisses.

A response that promised him more than words ever could.

He’d heard the rumours about Sarah being the Queen’s whore. How could he not? They were bandied about the court so often that it would have been impossible to miss them.

He hadn’t demanded this marriage out of any feelings he had for the woman. He’d done so to offer her protection and to gain a wife for his keep.

It seemed a good choice for all concerned. She would be spared the horrors of a cell, or the danger of life alone outside the court. And he would have the benefit of a wife without any emotional attachment. In addition he’d gain an experienced woman in his bed, not a simpering, frightened virgin.

Perhaps the appearance of Langsford and Arnyll had been a blessing. It had given him the opportunity to witness Sarah at work firsthand, instead of watching from afar.

He’d heard the men’s voices as they had neared the alcove. Although he had been unable to hear their words, Sarah’s reaction made him aware that she had heard them. At first, her response to his closeness had been tentative.

But the nearer the men had come to the alcove, the louder their voices had become, the more passionate she had acted. For some reason, Sarah had felt it necessary to make certain he hadn’t heard what the men had been saying.

He wasn’t some court dandy that she could ply with her wiles in an attempt to distract him. While knowing that Sarah had secrets so dire she needed to keep them from him did not please him in the least, it had been interesting—near amusing—to discover that turning the tables served to fluster her.

‘What is wrong?’

Sarah’s question startled him out of his musings. ‘Nothing.’

‘Ah, so not only are you thick-headed, you lie, too.’

Certain he couldn’t have heard her correctly, he looked at her, asking, ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I did not live this long without learning to read a person’s expressions.’ She studied him intently, as if looking for something, and then explained, ‘Your frown, the stiffening of your body, and your sudden interest in our surroundings—all tell me that something is wrong.’

‘It’s nothing that concerns you.’

Sarah reached up and flicked a braid over her shoulder. ‘No, of course not.’ She paused to smile and flutter her eyelashes before adding, ‘I am but a simple woman with not a care in the world, nor a useful thought in my head.’

They weren’t in the castle; they were no longer at court. There was no need for her to put on such airs, or take such a snappish tone with him.

William was certain there were two ways to get her to drop her play acting—seduction or an insult. At the moment, seduction would be rather difficult. He stared hard at her and said, ‘Simple woman? No. I am guessing you have all the makings of a shrew.’

Instead of flinching away in shame, or becoming angry, as he had hoped, Sarah’s laughter rang loud, chasing the birds from their perches overhead. ‘Perhaps you might have discovered that before insisting I become your wife.’

Not quite the response he’d expected, but she was right. ‘I imagine there are a great many things I might have discovered about you beforehand…had I the time.’

‘Do not place that blame on me. It wasn’t my idea to wed.’

‘No, but you didn’t argue too much about being discovered in bed with me.’

A faint tinge of red covered her cheeks, but Sarah didn’t turn away. ‘You know that I had a task to perform for the Queen. What other choice did I have?’

She might not have had a choice then, but she had choices now. ‘I find it all rather odd.’

She curled her fingers tighter around the reins, but calmly asked, ‘How so?’

‘Even after Eleanor ordered you from her sight, you ran away from me. I can only assume you went to seek refuge from the Queen. Why is that?’

‘I wanted her to stop this marriage.’ Sarah reached over and briefly touched his arm. ‘It was nothing personal, William. I simply did not wish to be forced into a marriage so quickly.’

He looked down at her hand just as she jerked her arm away. ‘Becoming someone’s wife is very personal.’

‘It need not be.’

‘Some marriages, perhaps. But this one will be.’

‘How so?’

William folded his hands atop the pommel of his saddle. ‘I knew what was said about you when I requested this marriage.’

‘Requested?’ She leaned slightly away and stared up at him. ‘You never requested that I wed you.’

He shrugged. ‘Regardless, I took you as wife, knowing you were the Queen’s whore.’

‘I tried to talk you out of wedding such a woman as I.’

Ignoring her, he continued, ‘In return, I expect little from you.’

‘Then that is what you will get.’

William tightened his fingers around the top of the pommel, holding his temper in check. For whatever reason, Sarah was itching for an argument. If she wasn’t a little more careful, she might get more than what she wanted.

‘You are alone in this world, Sarah. There is no one to take care of you, or to protect you, except me. If you desire that security, you need to learn to trust me. You have no other choice.’

He lifted his gaze to capture hers. ‘Tell me again, how can two people sharing a life, a home, a name and a marriage bed not be personal?’

‘We have shared no marriage bed.’ She held his stare, while adding, ‘Nor will we.’

‘Oh?’ Her direct challenge surprised him. Didn’t she realise he’d not ignore her dare? He wanted to tell her that one day she would be more than willing to come to his bed. But he fought to hold his comment back. Finally, he asked, ‘What makes you think we won’t share a marriage bed?’

All colour left her face at the mere suggestion that she couldn’t stop him. Sarah turned away, stiffened her back and stared out over her horse’s head. ‘You would not force me.’

He didn’t believe he’d have to force her. But why did the idea frighten her so? And she was afraid. He knew what fear looked like from experience. He could see her fear in the stiffness of her bearing, in the paleness of her face and heard it in the hesitant, less certain, tone of her voice.

The need to ease her worries prompted him to move closer, to uncurl her fingers from the reins and take her hand in his. William lifted her hand to his lips and dropped a chaste kiss on her knuckles. ‘I doubt if force would prove necessary, my lady.’

Sarah jerked her hand free. ‘You have a high opinion of yourself, my lord.’

‘Perhaps. But there is not a man alive who would dismiss your challenge.’

‘I issued no challenge.’

‘No? Do you truly think me that naïve?’ At her bewildered look, he explained, ‘Your ruse is as ancient as time. An experienced woman boldly tells a man that she will not share his bed, knowing full well that it will be a challenge he cannot refuse. You have no secrets in that regard. Every man knows she does it intentionally, Sarah, in expectation of eventually losing the chase.’

She parted her lips, then clamped them tightly together without saying a word.

Her reaction baffled him. He expected more of an argument from her. William moved away. His wife was a ball of mass confusion wrapped in beautiful finery.

He glanced sidelong at Sarah again riding silently beside him. A man in his position would never imagine himself wed to one as lovely as Lady Sarah.

She turned briefly to glare at him and he hid a smile of amusement. No battle to the death had made his stomach knot, or sweat bead on his forehead in such a manner. Yet, this little bit of a woman sent his body, and mind, reeling with nothing more than a glance his way.

And when she once again turned away, a cold wind swept over his body, leaving him strangely bereft of warmth. He sighed at this unfamiliar womanly nonsense teasing at him.

After once again surveying the area for someone following them, and finding nothing, William wondered if he’d imagined the feeling of danger.

Maybe their hasty exit from Eleanor’s court, combined with his even hastier marriage, had made his senses overwrought. His weapons were at hand, and Hugh was also well armed. So, for now, William would set aside his worry.

For a more pleasurable distraction, he concentrated once again on his wife. The women in the church were justified in their jealousy. Despite a crooked nose and a thin scar cutting across one eyebrow, Sarah was a vision of beauty.

Besides her blonde hair, the first thing one noticed when looking at her was the vivid blueness of her eyes against the unblemished paleness of her face.

He briefly wondered how many men had wished to drown in those eyes. As his attention retraced her nose and the scar, he realised that at least one man had not wished to lose himself in her gaze. Had that been the reason for her sudden fear of him?

‘What are you looking at now?’

‘You.’

‘Why?’ She swiped a hand across her cheek. ‘Is something amiss?’

‘No, everything is in place. I was just admiring your beauty.’

Sarah’s eyes widened before she schooled her features into a mask of contempt, then turned her face away. The forced look didn’t bother him. He’d witnessed her doing the same thing to others at Eleanor’s court. While they may have been put off by her contemptuous expression and left her alone, he knew exactly what she was doing and wouldn’t be intimidated quite so easily.

‘I cannot believe that none have commented on the fairness of your features.’

‘Aye, they have. When they either wanted something, or were so far gone in their wine that they knew not what they were saying.’

‘I know exactly what I am saying, and I already possess all I desire.’

‘And what is that?’

‘You.’

At his answer Sarah swung around to face him. ‘Me?’ Shock fired her cheeks before she shook her head in disbelief. ‘We just wed, and yet already you count me as one of your possessions?’

William cringed at the idea. He knew what being a possession entailed. ‘That is not what I meant.’

‘But isn’t that what a wife is?’ Her voice rose, and she paused to swallow hard before adding, ‘Just another item to add to your assets?’

‘My assets?’ He shook his head at the absurd statement. His possessions amounted to his weapons, the armour on his back, the horse beneath him, and the promise of gold coin and a keep from King Henry. The weapons and armour he could always count on. The promise, however, was nothing more than words and counted for little. He’d not yet seen the gold, or the keep.

He kept a tight rein on his voice as he answered, ‘Oh, aye, Lady Sarah, that is all a wife is to me. Simply another possession. One to use when, and how, I see fit.’

A red haze clouded her vision. Sarah parted her lips to spew curses at him. Just then she caught sight of a glint of humour in his eyes, and she knew instantly that he’d baited her. She closed her mouth, giving him her fiercest scowl and watched in disbelief as he burst into laughter.