She swayed slightly, and he thrust his fingers into her hair as if to hold her steady.
“Kezia,” he breathed. She could hear his desire in the way he said her name. What she saw in his eyes did nothing to calm her racing heartbeat. He bridged the small gap between them and kissed her, and her world narrowed down to that moment—his mouth upon hers, his tongue caressing hers. He smelled mouth-wateringly male, of leather and ale combined with the freedom of the salt air, and fresh earthiness of the fields from which the breeze blew.
When he drew away, she clutched at his arm, afraid he’d withdraw from her. What he’d given her was a mere taste of what she wanted. But it seemed he wasn’t ready to leave and, instead, he rose to his knees and held her head gently, framed in his hands, as if she were the most valuable thing he’d ever touched. And in his arms, she felt just like that—valuable beyond measure. And when his lips pressed against hers once more, teasing, caressing, enticing her, she pressed her hand to his chest and her desire inflamed with every quickened beat of his heart.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding hers in a tangle of desire which turned her limbs to jelly, and she fell against the soft sand. He lowered himself onto her, and her eyes opened wide as she felt his hardness press against her soft flesh.
She tensed; she couldn’t help it. She might have spoken to him of the freedom of Romani lovemaking, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth. And as his leg fell between her own, she pulled her mouth from his.
“What is it, Kezia?” He frowned as he searched her eyes. She saw in his eyes the moment he understood. He rolled off her immediately. “I’m sorry. I should not have…” He shook his head and thrust his fingers through his hair, looking around, as if awakening.
She shook her head. “No, you should. Indeed, I wanted you to. It’s just that…”
He reached to take her hand and pull her to her feet. He placed his hands on her shoulders.
“I said earlier that I would protect you and I will. But you are beautiful and hard to resist.”
“And I am also drawn to you. It’s only that…”
He tilted her chin up. “What?”
How could she tell him that she wanted him as much as he evidently wanted her, but that she wasn’t the women he thought her to be? She had no experience.
“You think all men take what they want,” he continued, “regardless of whether the woman is willing or not? Believe me, I’ve seen enough of that to last me a lifetime. War reduces people to animals. I, Kezia, am not an animal. I will protect you. We may be married, but you do not need to lie with me. Do you understand?”
She nodded and bit her lip. He brushed the sand from her cheek and wordlessly they returned to the castle. It was a short time since she’d left the castle but, somehow now it felt as if everything had changed.
As Boulon dropped a stick at her feet—not Rufus’s—she had the strangest feeling that Boulon also recognized how much the tie between her and Rufus had deepened.
She felt Rufus’s eyes upon her as she greeted the workers in the fields, and the man driving a horse and cart which went clopping by on the hard earth toward the cluster of farm cottages at the far end of the lane.
She caught Rufus’s gaze and blushed before turning away and looking up toward the castle. And for a brief moment, she thought she saw someone, a lady, standing atop the battlements looking down on them, before swiftly turning away with a flick her gown. And for a longer moment, before Rufus brushed the thought away with the touch of his hand on her arm, she felt a shadow darken her world, like a warning to brace herself for what was to come.
Chapter 10
Had she somehow bewitched him? Rufus couldn’t take his eyes off the petite woman walking by his side. She had none of the flirtatious contrivances of other women, nothing that could have warned him that this slight woman with the heart of a warrior would wriggle her way under his skin and make him want her like he’d never wanted a woman before. If he’d seen her coming, he’d have been able to head her off. But it was so quietly done he hadn’t been able to protect himself. Instead, all he could think about was the feel of her tongue against his, and her legs shifting to accommodate him. He sucked in a harsh breath.
Suddenly a shadow flitted over the light on her face, and her step faltered.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching out to steady her.
“I thought I saw…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Nothing.” She gave a brief smile. “Mayhap it was a trick of the eye, a cloud over the sun.”
A shout from across the fields made them both turn around.
William sat unmoving on his horse, as if he’d grown from the very soil of the land. If ever someone should govern this land, thought Rufus, it was his younger brother. He looked to be a part of it in a way Rufus had never been. Rufus raised a hand in greeting and William urged his horse into a canter toward them.
“Rufus,” grunted William in his usual gruff manner as he met them by the gatehouse. He held his great horse in check, subduing it with his solid but subtle force of character. “I’m going out to check the defenses. Will you come?”
“Of course.” Rufus felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t like him to shirk his duties, and he had been distracted by Kezia. The woman who shouldn’t be his wife and yet whose presence had robbed him of his senses. “Of course,” he repeated, more gruffly this time. He beckoned one of the stable boys to bring out his horse. He turned to Kezia whose openness of minutes before was now veiled, her true self hidden behind those remarkable eyes which saw everything but revealed little. For a moment, he wished that he could do something about it—make that wariness disappear. But then he heard a shout from his sister from inside the castle walls, and he remembered his family. Kezia was a survivor; his sisters weren’t and they needed him to protect them. He’d seen how she’d looked out across the sea. She’d leave him. When, he didn’t know. But he knew deep down in his soul, that she would leave. He might want her body, but he couldn’t afford to allow her into his heart.
“I’ll come if you have a horse to spare,” said Kezia.
“No. You will go inside, with Mother and my sisters to…” He didn’t finish the sentence because he was never quite sure how his sisters passed their time.
“To do what? Embroider? Sew? Make… stuff?” It seemed Kezia also wasn’t sure what they did.
Rufus struggled to hide a smile. “Exactly.” Rufus took the reins of his horse from the stable boy and swung into the saddle.
“But I have never done such things! Your mother will hate me more than she already does.”
“I’m sure Mother doesn’t hate you.”
William shot Rufus a sideways look which Rufus ignored.
“She does. Besides, I cannot bear to be trapped inside on a day like today.”
Her hair was tousled in the breeze from which they were no longer sheltered. He could see specks of sand on her cheek which must have landed on her when Boulon had tried to bury the stick in the sand. He had a strong desire to brush it away. He flexed his hands instead.
“Kezia, go inside. The world is different here. And you have to remember that.”
Before she could remonstrate or he could change his mind, swayed by his memories of how tender her lips were against his own, he urged on his horse, and he and William set off at a brisk canter down the lane. He didn’t stop until they were out of sight of the castle, at the far end of the lane, where the great wall ended by a defense ditch which wouldn’t have stopped a couple of pedlars on donkeys let alone an attacking army.
Rufus jumped down from his horse, and William followed. “This ditch needs cleaning out. When was it done last?”
William shrugged. “Father let things slip as his illness progressed. I’ve focused on the crops, not protection. It is the crops which will feed our tenants and us, and the surplus has been shipped overseas. Mother has overseen the trade with Normandy and the Low Countries. Between us, we’ve kept things going.”
Rufus co
uld hear the reproach in his brother’s voice, who’d been a child when Rufus had left to fight for his king and country. “But not defense,” he said.
“No. That’s where your skills lie, brother. It was not needed so much in recent years, but since the de Montmorencys have taken the de Courcy castle, the balance of power has changed.”
“At which manor did the de Courcys settle?”
“Ingham.”
“So we are three sides to a triangle.”
William looked at Rufus askance. “Triangle? Is that more of your infidel learning?”
“Aye. The infidels may not believe in our God, but their knowledge of the world is far greater than ours.”
“Whatever,” said William. “We need to join forces with the de Courcys and retake their castle if we are ever to have peace in our lands.”
“Aye. And we cannot delay.” Rufus looked around. “Our defenses need to be strengthened, but we cannot rely on them. Attack is our only option.”
William narrowed his gray gaze and looked out across the flat land toward where the danger lay. “So it would seem. You come up with the plan, and I’ll find the men.”
Rufus appreciated his brother’s solidity. William never shied away from reality, nor did he grate sugar over it. He dealt with matters as they arose and never imagined anything different. Unlike Savari, whose words could conjure up a different reality, and have people believing it. Not for the first time did Rufus acknowledge that he and his brothers were three very different men, with very different skills. But in this case, they were complementary.
He clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Together, we will succeed, I’m sure.”
William looked at him with a wry expression. “Are you?”
Rufus smiled and turned away. He needed to keep people hopeful for he knew from experience that it made them strong. But he couldn’t do that and look William in the eye. “Providing we bolster the alliances with our neighbors as well as we bolster our physical defenses, all will be well. We will attack the de Montmorencys before they have time to prepare. Come, let’s find some men to help us with these ditches.”
Kezia remained outside the gatehouse watching Rufus and William ride away across the low-lying causeway, toward the manor’s network of protection, and balled her fists in frustration. She walked through the ornate gatehouse and looked around the courtyard. There was no sign of Lady Charlotte, or Katherine, Lora or Celestria. No doubt they were all inside doing… Really, she had no idea what they could be doing.
In the forest, the rough shelters were used to protect from the weather. Nothing more. But here, the women seemed to be cooped up inside all the time, leaving the men to work outside. How the women could stand, it she had no idea.
She heard the girls’ laughter coming from inside and she backed into the shadows of the gatehouse. Rufus’s sisters were sweet, and Katherine especially had done her best to make Kezia feel at home, even though she must have been aware of the changes in circumstances that her arrival signaled. But Kezia couldn’t bear the thought of sitting with the women, in the darkened hall, focusing on either accounts, books or sewing and embroidery. All things Kezia knew nothing of. All things which required inactivity, sitting still and staring at something tiny in one’s hands. All things, which made a sheen of sweat bloom on her forehead. Another peal of laughter saw Kezia retreating through the gatehouse and back onto the lane outside.
She watched Rufus and William canter further away from her, growing ever smaller. Rufus’s dark hair flicked up in the breeze, the strong lines of his profile clear against the bright blue sky. She pressed her fingers against her lips and closed her eyes as she relived his kiss. When she’d been kissed before it had been nothing like Rufus’s kiss—both commanding and gentle at the same time. Not like some callow youth with his eye on tupping her. No, Rufus’s lips had sent shivers of desire tracking through her body.
She wanted him, not just so that he might keep her as his wife, but because when he looked at her, she felt herself flutter and moisten inside. She wished she hadn’t broken the spell in the dunes, but there had been a part of her that had been nervous. For all her knowledge gained by watching and listening, she knew nothing of the act itself. But next time, she promised herself, she would not break the spell. She would bow to the inevitable because that was how it felt.
She turned and struck out in the opposite direction to the two men. The early spring sunshine bathed the flat rich land in a light such as she’d never seen before—clear and bright. It sent joy to her heart, and she walked briskly along a path away from the castle, Rufus and his family. She wanted to know the area and its people. She’d feel safer then.
She hadn’t gone far when she heard horses’ hooves coming from the castle. She slipped through the hedgerow and hid behind one of the trees which grew around the church. It wasn’t until they cantered past that she recognized Rufus’s mother riding between two men. She watched as they retraced the steps along which she and Rufus had arrived the previous day and wondered where they were going. She got her answer when she saw them turn to the east. Not to Norwich then, but to Yarmouth, the seaport about which she’d heard so much. It seemed Rufus’s mother did far more than stay indoors and sew and do the accounts. She hoped that whatever her errand, she’d be away overnight. At least then she might have some respite.
Kezia continued her walk. The people she met were field workers and carters, all of whom greeted her politely. She had no qualms about her safety and so continued to the end of the quiet road where she discovered a river, hidden by a copse of trees and tangled shrubs. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the bright light and peered into the middle of the water. She suddenly realized that what she’d mistaken for being the far bank of the river was, in fact, an island. She’d heard of islands—lands cut off from any other in the water—but never seen one before. The idea had always captured her imagination—a place where no one could reach her, a safe place. The idea took hold again now. She had to explore it.
But the river was too deep to cross, and there was no bridge, so she walked along the bank a little way, watching the birds and otters and insects dart under the shade of the trees. Then she saw it—a small boat, its prow sticking out from a tumble of weeds. She looked across to the island, and before she could convince herself otherwise, she pushed the boat onto the water and, after a few false starts managed to row it as she’d seen the Romani do in the lakes which dotted the forests.
It took a while, but eventually, she managed to cross the wide but shallow expanse of water to the island. She jumped out of the boat and pulled it clear of the water, proud that she’d managed the oars, but aware that her progress had more to do with the gentle urgings of the current than any skill on her part. It wasn’t until she stepped ashore that she saw that the island wasn’t uninhabited and that an old man sat outside a hut and was looking her way.
“Morning, miss. For a little ’un, you’ve a mighty strong arm, there.”
As she approached, she saw his eyes were milky but he still looked at her directly.
“Aye, well, I’m not so cosseted as many.”
He nodded. “Or else you’d not have made your way to me, that’s for sure.”
“Aye, I suppose not.” She frowned, looking around. “What do you do here, sir?”
He laughed, revealing a toothless smile. “Do? Why I cut reeds for thatching, I eat and I drink, I think and I watch.”
“Do you see much with those eyes?”
“There’s more to knowing what is going on than can be gleaned by sight alone. Your strong arm I detected by the sound of the splash of the water against the oar.”
“Hm.” Kezia grunted. “You lead a busy life here on this one small island. Where does this river lead to?”
“Why to Yarmouth, miss. It is a maze of waterways but they all lead to Yarmouth. And from Yarmouth you can go anywhere in the world.”
Kezia was beginning to become intrigued by this place called Yarm
outh upon which Rufus’s family’s wealth appeared to depend, and which appeared to be the gateway to the world beyond the thin dark strip which marked the line between earth and sky.
“Anywhere? I would like to go there.”
He gestured toward the distant town, which appeared to be the key to so many people’s hopes and dreams, and she frowned as blood dripped from his hand.
Forgetting any remaining caution, she stepped forward to him and took his hand. “Why, old man, you’ve hurt yourself.”
“Bah! It is nothing but a scratch.”
“A scratch which is already swelling. It needs to be washed. Do you have a bowl in your hut?”
“Aye, lass.”
As she washed and bound his cut as best she could, she listened to the old man talk. He’d been born and lived all his life in the area and refused to move to the cottages of his relatives. Besides, he told her, he wasn’t alone. There were many others like him who watched the water.
As she left him, some hours later, with promises of further visits, she reflected on what he’d said. Others who watched the water. It seemed no one came or went without these people knowing. She thought of Rufus’s concerns about the castle’s safety, and imagined a network of watchers outside the network of which Rufus and his family spoke—below their notice, but powerful all the same. He’d been away for so long, she doubted Rufus was aware of them. These men who lived and worked on the water were poor men who plied their trade quietly and avoided the politics and power plays of the nobility. But, if Rufus could use their knowledge, combine it with his own, then the depths of their defensive ditches might not be of such import.
She struck out with the oars and pulled the boat across the river, glancing to where the river continued on to that great port called Yarmouth, which she vowed she’d visit just as soon as she could.
She took her time returning to the castle, but as she grew closer she saw two strangers galloping away and, as she entered the bailey, Celestria jumped onto a horse.
Defending His Lady (Norfolk Knights Book 4) Page 11
