The Mercenary's Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  ‘Those are for…’ She paused as she looked at them. ‘I do not know what those are for. I thought you might have added them to the ring since coming here.’

  ‘When did you last see these? Before my arrival?’ He was seeing more strands of that web now, more connections between Oremund and Eoforwic’s death. ‘Think carefully, Gillian.’

  ‘Before my father left with King Harold. Then again when Oremund arrived here with news of his death. He carried the keys to show me his authority.’

  Brice placed the four similar keys on the stone floor in front of the brazier and took out his dagger. After lining the tip of it up with a line down the centre of one key, he shoved the dagger down as hard as he could. As he thought would happen, the key split in two. He handed them to Gillian with instructions to keep each set together and he repeated the action, splitting each key into two pieces.

  ‘How did you learn something like that?’

  He laughed at her expression, not certain if she was horrified or proud. When he was done, he took each set and tried each key separately into the notch in the stone next to the door. When he found the one that fit, he placed it inside the mechanism and tried to open the door. It did not move.

  ‘And how did you learn that?’

  ‘I was not always the fine, noble man who married you, Gillian,’ he began. She laughed then, and it sounded good to hear it, in spite of the seriousness of the situation. ‘At one time, in my headstrong youth, I lived among a gang of thieves and made my living by stealing. I learned all about locks, how to make them and especially how to open them.’ He nodded at her disbelieving look. ‘There was not a door I could not open or a lock that could keep me in or out.’

  ‘Lord Gautier knew?’

  ‘He suspected.’ Brice smiled then. ‘At the very least, I would have lost a hand as punishment if I’d been caught, so the first thing he did when he summoned me was to tie my right hand behind my back so it was useless. He left me that way for three days and nights and then asked if that was how I wanted to live.’

  ‘A smart man.’

  ‘Aye, without a word, I learned that lesson quickly. Learning about honour took a bit longer,’ he confessed. ‘Though I rarely use the skills I learned, I still have them.’

  ‘What do you plan to do with those?’ She looked at the other keys.

  ‘I do not want to lock these completely. If I do, you will have no way out if you need to escape. But, I can set them so that you can enter here…’ he nodded at the closed wall ‘…and exit below in the smithy.’

  ‘I do not want him able to get in here again, Brice,’ she said, leaving no doubt about her feelings on the matter. ‘Close it—seal it if you have to in order to keep him out.’

  They were interrupted before he could explain the rest to her. Stephen called through the door to him. Tempted to speak to him down in the hall, he realised that though it would most likely reinforce Gillian’s fear of trust, she must know the truth for herself.

  ‘Did you find him, Stephen?’

  The warrior glanced from him to the lady and back again. ‘There is no sign of him. My men searched every place in the keep and the yard and buildings. No one can remember seeing him after the evening meal, after your return to the keep, Brice. He is gone.’

  ‘My uncle?’ she asked, walking closer to Stephen. ‘He would not leave Thaxted.’

  Brice did not say a word—he did not have to. His wife might be emotional, but she was intelligent and she was putting the pieces together for herself. He watched as the truth hit her and her hands shook. Then all colour left her face and, when she faced him, the bleakness in her gaze hurt to see.

  ‘He would not,’ she said, shaking her head. Her mind might be seeing the truth, but her heart fought it. ‘He protected me. He helped me escape. He would not…’ She did not finish, but only stood there, denying it to herself.

  ‘Go, keep searching,’ Brice ordered.

  ‘He is not here,’ Stephen argued.

  With a nod of his head, he dismissed the man, his best hunter. And if Stephen could not find him, there was no doubt in Brice’s mind that Haefen was gone.

  The only question was how deep into Oremund’s plans was he and what was his price for his co-operation.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A storm was brewing.

  She could feel it, in her bones and in her heart. Gillian moved through the next sennight without much thought. She carried out her duties; the ones that had offered such joy to her at first she now did by rote. When her courses finished, Brice joined with her again, but even that was tainted now by the pain of her uncle’s bitter betrayal.

  Morning came, the day passed and night arrived. Again and again, without much meaning or importance to her. The only way she could make it through each one was to block off her feelings and not allow the horrid pain too close. Now that her last link to her mother and father was broken, she convinced herself that she felt nothing.

  Tension within the keep and people of Thaxted grew, winding tighter and tighter, until she knew something had to break. Brice’s men continued to train and to build and rebuild, hoping that the new wall would keep out the danger. But Gillian knew it was impossible. For when evil men are determined, not much can stop them.

  When the attacks began in a circular pattern around Thaxted and Brice was forced to send out troops of men to deal with each one, trying to catch the ones behind it, Gillian noticed the pattern before Brice did. He was too busy trying to hold all the pieces together while fighting a seemingly invisible enemy.

  Now that she’d lost everyone dear to her, he stood to lose the most. If he failed to hold Thaxted for his king, he lost his lands, his title, and even possibly his life. And, she’d overheard at some point, that the last of the three bastards, Soren, would never receive his grant.

  But what she feared most about telling him the rest of it was that he would change and become like Oremund. Men killed for it. Men were blinded by the promise of gold. Men became drunk and obsessed trying to possess it. Gillian feared seeing the expression in his eyes when he wanted the gold more than he wanted her.

  And in the dark of the night, before the storms arrived, Gillian knew the truth. She did have something else to lose. Wrapped in his strong embrace, one that never faltered through the worst of nights, she realised that this Breton knight had managed to get past her defences and burrow deep into her heart. And if Oremund succeeded in destroying him and his dreams, Gillian could neither forgive nor live with herself.

  For that would be losing the last person in the world she loved. And, if she loved him, she must trust him with the whole of it.

  She woke with a sense of purpose that had been missing for weeks and asked to join him when he met with his men that morning. When everyone had broken their fast and most went off to see to their duties, he kept her at his side.

  ‘Lady Gillian has asked to speak to us,’ he began. She could see the puzzled expressions of the men seated around the table in the corner.

  ‘My brother believes that there is a hoard of gold somewhere in Thaxted.’ She stated it plainly and boldly. ‘And he believes I know where it is.’

  The one called Richier let out a long whistle. ‘That explains much.’

  ‘And is there this hoard of gold?’ Brice asked quietly. She would not meet his gaze, unwilling as she was to see him want something more than he wanted her.

  ‘My father promised Thaxted to my mother and told us there would be gold enough to support it if he was gone,’ she said. ‘That much I know. The rest is all rumour and conjecture.’

  ‘Part of the morgengabe, lady?’ Lucais asked.

  She looked at him. ‘Aye. So that she would have no claim, no reason to claim his other estates and wealth.’ He nodded his understanding of how things were done with wives not sanctioned by the Church.

  ‘And this gold? Where is it?’ Brice asked.

  So it would begin. She knew if she met his gaze, the hunger there would not be for
her. Her heart hurt, so she avoided his eyes.

  ‘After my mother’s death, he never mentioned it again. I do not know if he ever had it or planned to use it to go to war against Tostig and Hardrada. Or if he gave it to King Harold.’ She shrugged. ‘I know not.’

  ‘Oremund believes it,’ Brice said. ‘He believes you can lead him to it.’ All the men looked at him and he shook his head. ‘’Tis why he kept you alive, Gillian. Why he killed those around you—to force the truth from you.’ His voice softened. ‘Why he had you beaten and starved.’

  The other men at the table gasped and growled then, as one, and now stared at her. It was curious in a way that these burly, strong, ruthless warriors were bothered by her brother’s actions. What was a little torture if it brought results? She glanced towards Brice.

  ‘He still believes it’s here. He needs it and will do what he must to find it.’

  ‘Then we must find it first and let him know we have it,’ Brice stated. She began to argue that it was not here, but he shook his head and smiled at his men, who all smiled back at him and then laughed. Had they lost their wits? As she watched them, she decided there must be some secret language spoken only among men who fight together, for with a glance, a shrug, a nod, a shake of their heads and a few guttural curses, they seemed to have an entire plan formulated in minutes.

  Brice ordered them to meet back at the evening meal when all was in place and stood as they left. Now that they planned their own search, she did not want to see the lust for it in his eyes. Gillian stood as well and turned to go back to the kitchen, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  ‘I want to thank you for doing that, Gillian,’ he said softly.

  ‘For telling you my brother’s motives? You should be angry with me not telling you sooner.’ She finally dared to meet his gaze, steeling herself for what she would find there.

  His eyes darkened then, but not with lust, not for the gold or for her. They darkened and something else shone in their depths. Something she could not believe she was seeing there.

  ‘Not about your brother or the gold, Gillian. For finally trusting me with the truth.’ His voice lowered then. ‘For taking that step and trusting me with your secrets.’

  He stepped closer, wrapped his arm around her and bent down to kiss her. He’d kissed her dozens, nay, hundreds or even thousands of times since taking her as wife, but none of them matched this one. It was as different from the ones before as every one after this would be. It marked a change between them and she felt it in her blood, in her heart and in her soul. His mouth touched hers and a promise was made between them.

  And when he lifted his mouth from hers, Gillian looked into his eyes to see if she’d been mistaken. But she’d been right, for love stared back at her.

  ‘I must go, but wait for me this night,’ he said as he stepped away as Stephen called out his name.

  She could do nothing but nod, for tears threatened and her throat grew tight. He walked away then, but turned back twice before he reached the doorway to the yard. Then when he did reach it, he cursed aloud and said something else to Stephen. Turning around, he returned to her and pulled her into his arms, so tightly she nearly could not breathe.

  And the kiss!

  This kiss was filled with fire and heat, desire and wanting, promises and love and it took her breath away with its power. He touched his lips to her and possessed her mouth, tasting, caressing, and making her whole body ache for more. Then, as quickly as he’d begun, it was over and he ran to catch up with Stephen.

  Gillian felt more in that moment than she had in the weeks before and a new sense of anticipation filled her. Not only about the night ahead, but also about the possibilities of defeating her brother’s aims and living without his interference and threats.

  And all because she had finally decided to risk trusting Brice.

  The entire keep seemed to come alive that day, awaking from its slumber and working together for one purpose. Gillian found there was joy in accomplishing her household tasks and watched as everyone who could did something.

  Outside, she knew Brice was putting some plan in motion, one that involved the gold. And Stephen, who’d spent weeks searching for her brother and her uncle, now turned his skills towards finding the gold. No matter that it could not be here in Thaxted, no matter if it existed or did not.

  The hours crept by for her and night would not come. Staying busy should have helped, but it did not. Working with her hands did not. And watching the women as they smiled knowingly made it even worse. Finally, the sun dropped down in the sky and those in the keep prepared for night.

  And she waited in her chambers for Brice.

  He was certain he knew what had caused her to take the step, but, regardless of the reason, he was pleased she had. Trusting him meant more than even the love he saw in her eyes—it meant their very survival.

  The information she provided showed Brice the reasons for the growing web surrounding Thaxted and gave him options he did not have before. His men understood immediately because, in that instant of revelation, they went from being victimised to being powerful.

  She’d given them a weapon and there was nothing a man-of-war liked better than a good weapon. Gillian had freed them from their position of watchfulness to one of action. All because she finally trusted him.

  The love was something he never hoped for and so was even more special to him.

  Brice spent the day in planning and working to use what they now knew to defeat their enemies. And though it meant destroying Oremund and Gillian’s true last link to her family, he would do what was necessary to safeguard their future.

  All through the day, while thoughts of Gillian swirled in his mind, something else nudged at him. Something about her father’s true plan to protect his wife and daughter. Something about the gold. When he finally climbed the steps to her chambers, all thoughts of that part of the puzzle fled for all he could think about was loving Gillian.

  He knocked and then pushed the door open.

  Gillian stood before the brazier in only her shift. The low light given by it was enough to outline her womanly curves through the thin fabric. He could see the dark pink tips of her breasts, already pebbled and tight, and that enticing triangle of curls between her legs. As he moved closer, she turned to him and smiled, one that would have tempted him, if he’d been Adam, to give up paradise, but this one promised it to him.

  When he would have kissed her, she ducked away, taking him by the hand and leading him to the side of the bed. Without a word, she began to loosen the laces at his neck and pulled his tunic over his head. Then she worked on the belt and did not seem surprised when his erection burst out as she pushed his braies down from his hips. She reached out towards it and he waited…waited for her touch.

  She laughed and shook her head. ‘Not yet,’ she whispered. He did not want to wait and shuddered in anticipation of it. She pushed him back to sit on the bed and if her hand slid over him by accident, she laughed it off.

  His chest grew tight and he could not draw in a breath then, as she knelt down between his legs and removed the leather garters that held his leggings in place and then his boots. She was too close. Too close. Heat filled his blood and the need for her pounded through his body. Gillian laid her hands on his thighs and caressed him, sliding her fingers back and forth from his knees to his… Hell, she stopped again just before intimately touching him.

  Brice could not be certain if he growled or begged in that moment, but she finally slid her hands forwards and touched him there. With her fingers massaging him, she teased him and taunted him with the promise of it. He dragged in a ragged breath and prepared for the almost-painful pleasure of her caress. When her touch was with her lips and not her hands, he fell back on to the bed believing he had died and found paradise.

  He leaned his head up and watched her moving up and down on his shaft, her mouth tight around its width and her tongue tasting him as she moved. Her loosened hair fell over
his legs and he reached out to grasp it as she suckled on him. He grew harder and larger in her intimate kiss, but she did not slow her attentions. He wrapped his fists in the length of her hair, holding her close and guiding her pace.

  Then his release was coming, his shaft shook and tightened in her grasp as she milked him of every drop of his seed. The tremors moved through his body as he shuddered with it. Gillian did not slow her pace and had not taken her gaze from his; even now she watched every second of his pleasure until he fell back, his body satisfied and his heart full.

  The best part was that she was not done. He watched now as she stood and climbed up on the bed and over him, kissing her way up his thighs, across and over his belly on to his stomach. Her kisses and the touch of her tongue made the muscles there ripple and she continued up on to his chest, her hair trailing along tickling his skin with its softness. By the time she reached his own flat nipples, and praise heaven she moved slowly in her pursuit, he was ready again.

  He used all his strength to do nothing, enjoying every touch, every kiss, and every caress by her fingers and lips and tongue and not wanting it to end. But now he wanted to show her the desire, the wanting, the yearning and the love that filled his heart for her.

  Though not as experienced as other women might be, Gillian could tell the moment he let go. From the way his body trembled beneath her fingers and her mouth, she knew he enjoyed her attentions and fought to let her continue. He pulsed like something alive in her mouth, making her own body shake with pleasure. And despite using her mouth on him before, she’d never brought him to release there.

  His growl was the only warning she got, for a moment later she was on the bed and he moved over her like a storm, all power and fury and sensation until she begged and begged for completion.

  And he ignored her pleas.

  Her body arched, it shook, it trembled, it grew hot. Her nipples tightened, her muscles clenched, her core wept for him.