Mayhap that sharply squared jaw, thrust out more because of the gag. She had to
be mistaken. Arrogance was a trait of noblemen. Arrogance in a serf would get
his back whipped raw.
But this serf did not lower his eyes or look away in the presence of a lady.
Bold he was, or still too surprised to recall his place. But what was she
thinking? He could not tell she was a lady, when she wore her bedclothes. But
then she realized he certainly could, for her white shift was of the finest
linen, soft and nearly transparent, it was so thin. Her bedrobe was that rare
velvet of the East, given her on her fourteenth birthday by her mother, sewn by
her own hand. A by-blow, then, as Gilbert had said, and apparently proud of it.
And what did she even care what he was? She could not care he was to die. But
first she was to give him her maidenhead oh, God! How could she? Fool, how could
she not when her mother? ?
She wanted to sink down on the floor and cry. She had been raised gently, with
love and care, the cruelty and harshness of life kept at bay. It was difficult
for her to see her life now as real, because it was so alien to her. She was
supposed to take this man, in truth, to rape him. How? In anger she had told
Gilbert she needed no help, but she did, for she knew not the first thing about
begetting children.
There was no longer surprise in his eyes. They were nowadmiring. Was that good?
Aye, ?twould be better for him did he not find her repulsive. She was glad of
that at least. And he was nothing like her husband. He was young, clean, even
handsome, his skin smooth, his body firmnay, nothing at all like her husband.
Even the gray of his eyes and the blond of his hair were different shades than
Lyons had been, the one lighter, the other darker.
She had the strangest feeling she could read his thoughts through his eyes, for
she imagined a question there now. Had he been told why he was here? Nay, likely
not, since he had been senseless until moments ago. And why would Gilbert bother,
when the man had only to lie there and accept what was done to him? She was the
one Gilbert had instructed, for she was the one who would be doing what must be
done. But that question was there in his eyes?
It was left to her to tell him, and she could not even reassure him that he
would be released when it was over. Her anger surfaced again, this time wholly
for his sake. He had done naught to deserve this. He was an innocent, snared in
a monster?s plans. She would take his seed, but then Gilbert would take his life.
Nay, she could not allow that. She would do the one, she had to for her mother?s
sake, but somehow she must prevent the other. Somehow, she would help him escape
when the time came, before she told Gilbert that his seed had taken, thereby
ending the man?s usefulness.
But she could not tell the man that. She would not give him false hope, in case
she was unsuccessful in helping him. All she could do was try. And he did not
need to know he was to die.
There was no reason to tell him that. Let him think what he would, and why
should he think that he would not be released when she was done with him?
Again he was communicating with her with his eyes, and again she understood him.
He was dropping his eyes down toward his gag, then looking at her again. He
wanted her to remove it so he could speak to her. That she would not do, for she
did not think she could bear it if he begged her for his release, adding more
heavily to her guilt. She knew what she must do was wrong, but what choice did
she have? But to hear him beseech hernay, she could not.
She shook her head slowly, and his own dropped back to the mattress so he no
longer looked at her. If she did not know better, she would think she had been
arrogantly dismissed, having denied him what he wanted. Like as not his neck was
strained from being lifted so long. She came around to the side of the bed so he
could see her without straining, but his eyes were closed now. He did not care
that she stood there. Or mayhap he had not heard her approach in her bare feet.
She paused now that she could see him more clearly. His big body truly filled
the bed. She thought he might even be taller than Gilbert, though she could not
be certain, but he was surely much broader of chest. His arms were thick and
long, and well corded with muscle from shoulder to wrist. His shoulders, neck,
and chest were likewise thickly muscled, the sungilded skin taut, with no
Whatever he did to earn his keep, ?twas obvious he worked hard at it. A
woodcutter, mayhap. One on her father?s fief had been brawnier than any knight.
She realized she was staring, but she could not help herself. Strong he was,
very strong, and she found herself being thankful to Gilbert, after all, that
the man was tied down, then was ashamed of the thought. Yet this man could
easily snap her in two with his bare hands, and ?twas better for her that those
hands could not reach her.
?I am sorry,? she began, wondering why she whispered when they were alone.
? Tis better I do not hear what you have to say, but I can tell you why you are
here.?
His eyes opened again, his head turning slightly so he could stare at her. There
was no question there now, no curiosity of any kind. Patience, she realized, was
what he was displaying. He fully expected to have all his questions answered,
but she was not as brave as that. She would tell him only what she had to and
nothing more.
But now that it was time to do so, she could feel heat stealing up her neck into
her cheeks.
?IIyou and Iwewe mustwe must?
The question was back in his eyes, and if he were not gagged, he would be
shouting it. She could not blame him for losing his patience, but she could not
say the word. She was too ashamed. She tried to remind herself that he was only
a serf, and she had always been kind but firm with her servants, as her mother
had taught her. But he was like no manservant she had ever ordered. And that
arroganceshe could not get it out of her mind that he was more than a serf, and
although that should make this no worse, it did.
And then she heard the scratch on the door and almost melted with relief that
Mildred had finally come. She gave not another thought to the man on the bed,
who had strained nearly every muscle in his body waiting for her to get to the
point in her explanation. An explanation that was no longer forthcoming as he
watched her rush from the room.
Warrick collapsed back and growled in frustration. Damn her.
?We must?what?! Why could she not just spit it out? But then he forced himself
to relax. He could not blame her. She was a delicate thing, ethereal in her
beauty, and she had not put him here.
He could not imagine for what reason she had been there, however, unless she had
brought him food. He could see none left for him, but she could have set it on
the floor. Yet she would not remove his gag, so how was he to eat it?
Questions without answers. Patience. Whatever was wanted of him would be
demanded soon enough, and then he could think of revenge, for whoever had
ordered his capture, whoever was responsible, would die. It was his vow, sworn
to God many years ago when his soul had shriveled and died from the devastation
of his losses, that no one would ever do him an ill again without paying for it
in kind or worse. It was a vow he had kept for sixteen long years, half of his
lifetime. It was a vow he would keep till the day he died.
The little wench intruded on his thoughts again, and he let her, for she was
more pleasant by far than his dark musings. When he had first seen her, truly
had he thought her an angel with her halo of golden hair glowing in the
candlelight. All in white she was draped, and those flaxen curls cascading over
both shoulders down to her hips.
Her sapphire eyes had dominated her small face, large and round and beguiling,
hiding secrets, hiding thoughtsuntil he had seen that spark of anger. It had
aroused his curiosity almost more than the reason for his being there. He had
had the ridiculous desire to play the guardian to this angel, to smash and
utterly destroy whatever was disturbing her.
He had wanted to ask her what caused her anger. He had tried to get her to
remove his gag. Her refusal had surprised him, then annoyed him, enough that he
had acted no better than a child in sulk, refusing to look at her again,
refusing to acknowledge that she was even there. He thought now of what he had
felt at the time and was amazed at himself. Truly, the wench had a strange
effect on him.
But he had not been able to ignore her for long. In truth, he liked looking at
her, she was so pleasing to the eye, and that she would tell him what he needed
to know had been his excuse to look at her again. But he had been struck anew by
her beauty at the closer range as she had stood beside the bed. Her alabaster
skin was flawless her lips lush, inviting, and to his chagrin, his loins had
begun to heat.
He would have choked on his laughter if he?d given in to what he was feeling,
but the gag that would have choked him had also kept him from seducing the wench
to ride him while they were yet alone. But then bitterness reared its head to
ask him, Why would she agree, when he was no more than a prisoner, and naked of
his purse to offer her a coin? When he was released, he would see to the wench.
When he was released, he would burn this place to the ground, so she would need
another home. He would offer her his. He thought briefly of his bride, waiting
for him even now, but that could not change his mind. He would still bring this
wench to his home.
Chapter 8
?So now you know,? Rowena said dejectedly, having finished telling Mildred the
whole sordid tale of her husband?s death and her meeting with his substitute.
?And Gilbert meant it, stated it plainly this time. Either I get myself with
child, or he will kill my mother.?
?Aye, I doubt not that he meant it. He is the devil?s own son, that one. Tis
fortunate he does not want to stand there and watch. Your husband would have, if
he gave you to his own man, that John.?
Mildred sighed.
?I suppose you must see it done, then.?
Rowena wrung her hands.
?I know, but how??
Mildred?s eyes flared, closed briefly, then opened again, clearly filled with
self disgust.
?I am that stupid, I am. How can you know how? Your husband would have taken
what he wanted, with your having to do naught but lie there. But now you have to
do it all on your own, and that lad in there not able to even direct you, with a
gag in his mouth. And he is on his back, you say??
?Flat on his back, and I doubt he can move at all, the chains are so tight.?
Mildred sighed again.
?I am trying to see it in my mind. I have never ridden a man, you understand. ?Tis
not natural.?
?Gilbert must think ?twill not be difficult, for he has left him bound so.?
?I did not say it could not be done,? Mildred said disagreeably.
This was a subject for kitchen wenches, not for her lady. Her cheeks were now as
pink as Rowena?s were pale. But that wretched d?Ambray would no doubt be back
with the dawn to see for himself that the deed was done, so there was no help
for it.
?Aye, all right, I have it now,? she continued.
?And I will speak plainly to get the telling over with quickly. You must
straddle his hips, get his rod inside you, and then you ride it. There will be
pain until your maidenhead breaks, but then it should not hurt so much. Just
imagine yourself astride your palfrey at a canter. You bounce nay, do not
blushyou will likely adjust to this method as soon as you are seated. Just
remember, that rod of his needs the movement to give up its seed, and you must
provide that movement if he cannot. Just sitting on him once he is fully
sheathed in you will not do it. Think you can do it now? Is there aught more
that needs explaining??
?Nay, Inay.?
Mildred hugged her then.
?Treat this as any other chore, my sweet one. I would have other advice for you,
easier to stomach, were he not a stranger and to remain a stranger. But remember
that is all he is, that you will never have to see him again once the babe is
well planted, so he does not merit your embarrassment.?
But he had it, Rowena thought as she returned to the small room across the way,
and the heat did not leave her cheeks again. His eyes were on her the second she
opened the door, and he watched her approach the bed. Mere interest was all he
showed this time, and she revealed nothing of her own turbulent thoughts.
A chore, like any other? Very well, she told herself. Just get it done.
She dropped her gaze to the bed, loath to watch him while she explained the
horrid facts to him.
?I must have a child, and it must be conceived immediately. You were chosen to
aid me because your hair and eyes are the same as my husband?s, for the child
needs have the look of him. So we must copulate this night, and the next, and
the next, until your seed bears fruit. I like this no better than you, but I
have no choiceand neither do you.?
His chains rattled, but she would not look toward those expressive eyes of his.
Briskly, she took hold of the thick sheet covering him and I !
flipped it to the end of the bed, where it slithered to the floor. She did not
watch it fall. With a will of their own, her eyes were drawn to his manroot, and
widened to their full roundness. There, truly, was the monstrous weapon she had
heard tales of. It lay soft and still in a bed of golden curls.
A growl came out of his throat, making her start, her eyes flying up to his face.
Expressive eyes he had, so expressive, and now they promised grim retribution if
she did not desist. She took a step back, suddenly afraid. So much fury in an
expression.
She had not bargained on this. Most men would not mind what she had to do. They
spread their bastards far and wide, so what was one more to them? Nay, that was
the attitude of nobles, not serfs. But male serfs took their pleasure where they
could, tooonly they rarely knew if a babe was theirs or not, for the maids they
cavorted with were not constantand
they tended to marry if they were caught.
Did he think he would have to marry her? Or did he object to the way they would
have to copulate, with her on the top, with her in control? Mildred had called
it unnatural, so mayhap he thought so, too. Well, she could not help that. She
could not help any of this.
?I am sorry you object, but that changes naught,? she said now, her tone tinged
with bitterness.
?I still must do it. But I will be quick so you are not disturbed for long.?
His eyes flared at her, as if she had said something incredibly stupid. She
wished she could not read his thoughts so well. She wished he would make this
easier for her, but why should he? He must feel as misused as she did. Well, she
refused to look at him anymore. And she would get this done and over with.
So decided, she climbed up on the edge of the bed, but it suddenly shook so
forcefully, she tumbled backward to land on the floor. She stared up at the
ceiling, fighting for the breath that had been knocked out of her, wondering
what had happened. But then she heard the chains settling down to silence and
knewand got mad.
Damn you! she wanted to rail at him, but all she did was get back on her feet
and glare down at him.
?I will copulate with you. Do you understand? I have to!?
She got back on the bed, ready for his violent thrashing this time, but less
prepared to actually watch it. He was violent, and the power behind his bucking
and twisting and writhing was terrifying to behold. His body strained beyond
limits, seemed to grow in size. The entire bed bounced and moved across the
floor. She lost her balance again, started to topple, but bent toward him just
in time, so that she was thrown across his loins instead of to the floor.
He stilled instantly. She worried then that she might have hurt him, and lifted
herself up to look under her. But his manroot still looked the same, so she
could not tell if her belly had harmed it or not. But from that position she saw
the blood coating his ankles. She glanced at his hands, and there, too, blood
smeared over his wrists.
She hissed through her teeth at this evidence of his violence.
?You stupid man. Why cause yourself pain over something you cannot prevent??
He answered with another growl. But while he was still motionless, she swiftly