A Tavern Wench to Bed

by Brenda Williamson

  “You killed my dragons,” she yelled, charging at him.

  He grabbed her around the waist to stop her, but she threw so much of herself against him that they both fell. She landed on top of him and swung her fists. It was the first time in her life she had acted on the urge to physically harm anyone.

  “I did not kill any dragons.” He rolled, putting her under him. “And if I did, do you think I’d confess to such a crime?”

  “You did it and I know you did.” She struggled under the weight of him. “Where’s Sir Henry? What have you done to him?”

  “I haven’t seen Henry since he beat me in that match today.”

  “Don’t lie to me. He was coming to confront you about killing my dragons.”

  “What are you going on about?” He pinned her arms above her head on the ground. His face came close as he leaned over her.

  “My four dragon mares and Sir Henry’s Nimbly have been slaughtered.”

  “Someone killed Nimbly?” He got up and pulled her to her feet. “And you think I did it?”

  “I know you did. I found your sword pendant with the ruby in my field.”

  Sir Reven put a hand to his chest, checking for the missing piece of ornate jewelry. “And what reason do you think I have for doing something as atrocious as killing dragons?”

  “Vengeance.”

  “For what?” His brow lifted in surprise.

  “The dragon fight we had didn’t go your way.”

  “But I won.”

  “You didn’t get me.”

  “A grave error on my part. I shouldn’t have let my overconfidence get the best of me. I should have taken my pleasure with you before I wagered you against Sir Henry’s dragon. But that hardly means I’d kill your dragons, or his. Henry and I have battled for years. Sometimes he loses and sometimes I do. It’s a game, not a war.”

  “I think this time you didn’t take losing so well.”

  “I wasn’t happy about it, but it’s over. Maybe you’d like to try your luck against me again. I’d be more than willing to offer the same terms.”

  “And what will you tell Lady Kathryn should you win me?”

  “I don’t answer to Lady Kathryn,” Sir Reven hissed low.

  “Isn’t she to be your wife?”

  “I’d not marry that shrew if she were the last woman on earth.”

  “She thinks differently.”

  “She can think what she wants and she can listen to my brother filling her head with whenever he wants. Neither of them controls what I do. I can promise you this. I will never marry Lady Kathryn. Now what do you say to that bet? Better yet, let’s forgo the games and find somewhere private to enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Maybe you should reconsider marriage to Lady Kathryn, Sir Reven. I believe she is the only woman around interested in your company.” Sorcha stormed away.

  * * * * *

  Henry stood at the top of the hill and surveyed the men working to burn what remained of the dead dragons. Smoke filled the air with a rank scent of burnt flesh. He thought by overseeing the task of cleaning up the field that he could vent his rage, but it only grew.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Duncan stood at his side. “Are you sure Reven would do this?”

  “I don’t know.” Henry rubbed his hand over the cross in his pocket reaffirming he did have evidence.

  “I’ve sent word to Kilburn,” his brother Ware came from behind and put a hand on his shoulder. “This is the last time they’ll take anyone from us again without reprisal. First Relt, then Elan, and now Reven and Uther, the Tulanes are a scourge that needs cleansed from these lands.”

  “Don’t forget my sister, Ware. She kidnapped your cousin, Lady Rachel and tried again with your wife, Lady Juliette. Someone needs to stop her as well.”

  “She won’t have anywhere to turn if we destroy the Tulanes. That was her last place of refuge.”

  Henry rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. What his brother said about Reven’s grandfather, Lord Relt Tulane disturbed him.

  “Elan kidnapped Irisa before you married her. But who did Lord Relt take?” he asked.

  Ware paced in front of him. “Forget about that. We have to think how best to go at Reven and Uther.”

  Henry grabbed Ware’s arm, stopping his incessant march back and forth. “Mother didn’t die when I was born, did she?”

  Ware stared at him, a blank expression that gave nothing away. But Henry knew his brother. His silence was a confession.

  “You were never to know. Father made Kilburn and me swear you’d not grow up hating anyone or seeking revenge. It was what mother wanted.”

  “What happened? Did she leave father like Uther and Reven said?”

  “No.” Ware rubbed his jaw. “You were about a year and a half old when Mother and Father took us to Tregarth for a visit. Father went on a hunt with Lord Tregarth. While they were gone, Lord Relt attacked the Castle. You and Kilburn were napping near the hearth. Mother was helping me with my reading lessons when the servants rushed in to tell us we were under siege.”

  “Why have I never heard of this before?”

  “It wasn’t anything grand. Lord Relt stormed in with his men and killed anyone who fought or protested. He came into the great hall as if he had all the power. He told mother he’d wipe the lands of all Pembrokes. Only his power was nothing to what she had over him. She talked him into leaving Tregarth.”

  “And he just did as she asked?”

  “He was in love with her since before her marriage to our father. His feelings blinded him to her plan.”

  “Which was?”

  “To keep her children safe. She went with him. When she kissed me goodbye, she whispered in my ear to tell father if anything happened to her, he was to protect us.”

  “Father went after her, didn’t he?”

  Ware took a deep breath. “He brought her back dead.”

  Henry’s chest burned. His stomach knotted. “What happened?”

  “She hadn’t anticipated Relt taking her by dragon instead of horse. The villagers said he had landed one on the northern slope. When he left, he went back to that dragon. Apparently, mother fought him, stabbed him in the chest with his own knife and then tried to run away. Agitated by the commotion of a stranger too close, the dragon unleashed his breath of fire. The flames caught her clothing and she—”

  Henry put his hands over his face and pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes to stop the image he had of a woman burning to death.

  “Father and I got there in time to smother the fire, but she was too far gone. With her dying breath, she begged him not to seek revenge or let her sons live with hate. It was a promise easily kept. She had killed Lord Uther. We never suspected his grown son, Elan had the same ambition to rule all the lands. Of course, whatever revenge he wanted was short lived when I killed him in that sword fight at Mansfield after he kidnapped my Irisa.”

  “I had heard rumors,” Duncan commented. “But they involved Lord Uther being killed in battle trying to rescue Lady Gwyneth from her tyrant husband. I didn’t believe that could be true, nor do I think most people did. Now I understand. Elan must have spread those lies to his sons to make them think better of their grandfather.”

  “Regardless, I know the truth and I will make sure everyone knows who’s responsible for the slaughter of these creatures,” Henry said.

  He’d find Reven and make him confess his crime if it was the last thing he did.

  Chapter Ten

  Sorcha looked for Henry in the tavern, and the pavilions, then decided he must have returned to the field of her slain dragons. It was the last place she wanted to go. But if that was where he’d gone, she must go there too. She had to find out what he planned to do about Sir Reven.

  She headed back to Sir Ware’s dragon. Her mind wandered from blaming Sir Reven to the memory her animals lying slaughtered. It made her sick. She had grown up with some, watched some hatch, loved and adored all of them eve
ryday. Now they were gone, just like her father.

  Lost in thought, she missed seeing the man alongside one of the pavilions, until he sprang toward her. His arm went around her waist and his hand covered her mouth. She twisted to get free, but he outsized her. She opened her mouth to scream for help, but his hand confined all but the gurgling rage of her frustration.

  He toted her along like a sack, her feet sometimes dragging the ground, sometimes swinging freely. She shook her head violently and managed to catch his finger in her mouth. When she bit down, he made a loud cry of pain. His grip slackened and she broke away, but he snagged her arm before she could get very far. She turned and saw to her surprise it wasn’t Sir Reven.

  “You evil little wench,” he hissed, swinging his hand at her.

  She felt the blow of his palm flat on the side of her face. Its stinging burn made her head buzz. No one had ever hit her. Stunned, she stared in disbelief. Who was he? What did he want? Why were tiny specks of white blurring her vision?

  “Sir Reven is a crazy one for wanting you.” The man said, grabbing her again.

  Sir Reven, after all. Her outrage grew. If Sir Reven thought he’d get away with kidnapping her, he’d be in for a surprise. He’s killed her dragons, sent a brute to manhandle her, and for what? To force her into having sex with him? Incensed at how much he’d already gotten away with, she spent the rest of the ignominious haul thinking of killing him.

  The man forced her into a pavilion, and she looked around for Sir Reven. Her eyes widened when instead it was Lady Kathryn who emerged from a partitioned corner.

  “Surprised?” Lady Kathryn sauntered over to a table set with a pitcher and goblets.

  “What is the meaning of this? Why am I here?” Sorcha eyed her surroundings for another exit besides the one the man blocked behind her.

  “I saw you talking to Sir Reven, and it doesn’t take a genius to see he still wants you.”

  “What he wants and what he gets are two entirely different things.”

  “Yes, but Reven is a bit slow to learn lessons like that. He’s refusing to marry me, and I believe it’s because he has deluded himself with fantasies that he’ll somehow win you over.” Lady Kathryn poured wine into two goblets. “I know, I know, he has no chance with you, but it still leaves me with a problem. What to do to get you out of his sight—out of his mind.”

  “I think you are very wrong about what Sir Reven wants. Yes, he lusts to bed me, but he knows that will never happen. He killed my dragons and. . . . ”

  “He killed your dragons?” Lady Kathryn did not contain her amusement.

  “Yes, and with the evidence I found, he’ll have a lot more to think about than who he beds.”

  “What is it you have?”

  “As if I’d tell you.”

  “You’re an insolent wench. Do you know I could have you beaten for taking that tone with me?”

  Sorcha glanced over her shoulder at the guard and then looked back at Lady Kathryn. “Too afraid to dirty your own hands, milady?” She grabbed the goblet and threw the wine at her.

  Lady Kathryn backed handed her in the jaw with the goblet she held. The guard rushed forward and seized Sorcha by the arms, twisting them behind her back. She struggled to no avail.

  “Shall I kill her now, milady?” the guard asked.

  “Not just yet, Newt. We can’t have her dead body turning up her in the Tulanes’ pavilion, too many people are still wandering about.” Lady Kathryn picked up a cloth and dabbed at the wine on the front of her gown. She glanced at Sorcha. “I bought this in France. It was my favorite, and you’ve ruined it.”

  “Pardon me, milady, for my clumsiness,” Sorcha said snidely.

  “Whatever do men see in you?” Lady Kathryn refilled her goblet. “Sir Reven is a bit weak minded, so I can understand his trouble, but Sir Henry? His choices were always so intelligent. Newt, do you find Miss Bronson attractive?”

  “No, milady.”

  “Come now, Newt, tell the truth. Bedding her has crossed your mind once or twice, hasn’t it? Maybe before you kill her, you can spend a few minutes finding out what men find so appealing about her.”

  Newt pulled harder on Sorcha’s arms, forcing her backside tighter against him. She wiggled to get away from the feel of his hard maleness nudging her. It made him change his hold. Deftly, he moved his arms to bind hers at her sides, putting one of his hands over her chest and the other across her midsection. Her struggles only made things worse. His fingers moved, grasping at her breast and clawing at her belly.

  “I shall be on my way now. Newt, remember what I said. Kill her somewhere else. I won’t have her blood staining the Tulanes’ pavilion.” Lady Kathryn sashayed across the to the tent flap. “And Newt, don’t let her struggling fool you into believing she doesn’t want you. She’s just the type that likes to play hard to get so a man will take her roughly.”

  After Lady Kathryn left, Sorcha relaxed. She’d met up with worse brutes than Newt and managed to get away unscathed.

  Newt kneaded her breast harder, bunching the cloth of her dress with every squeeze.

  She put her head back on his shoulder and gave him a seductive moan. “That feels so good.”

  His hold loosened a little, giving him room to bend his head down next to hers. “You like that?” His sour breath floated under her nose.

  “I’m very appreciative of a man that knows what a woman wants.” She raked her fingers against his thigh.

  He shifted his stance and let her reach back and massage the front of his trousers. Beneath the heavy clothe his small cock had hardened. She had guessed his size right by the stubbiness of his fat fingers pawing her bosom.

  “Let me get undressed,” she said. “I want to feel your hands on my smooth bare flesh.”

  He let go immediately. She stepped forward and turned, facing him. His gaze dropped to the skirting she lifted. His breathing quickened as she showed him her ankles, her shins and then her knees. Once she had the cloth bunched high enough that he saw her thighs, she swung her right foot up and caught him between the legs. Even the smallest of genitalia would hurt with a sound kick.

  “Arrgh!” Newt shrieked.

  He lunged at her, but was ready. She dodged him, ran from the pavilion and raced across the tournament field. In her look back, she saw he tried to pursue her, but the meatiness of his frame and his injured maleness slowed his gait to a staggering trot.

  She pitied him just for a moment. When Lady Kathryn found out her plans were foiled, Newt would take the brunt of the woman’s wrath. Serves him right.

  She turned and saw Henry with Reven. Her heart leapt for joy that he was all right, but she saw him grab Reven by the arms. Afraid Henry might be hurt, or even killed in ensuing fight, she began running again.

  * * * * *

  Seeing Reven’s chest empty of the cross, Henry shoved him in fury. “Where’s your pendant, the sword with the ruby?”

  “I don’t know what happened to it.”

  “Perhaps I can help refresh your memory.” Henry pulled the necklace out of his pocket and held it before Reven’s eyes, letting the pendant dangle from the chain.

  “How did you get that?” Reven looked honestly surprised.

  “Sorcha found it in the field where her dragons were slaughtered.” He threw the jewelry on the ground. “Why’d you do it? Why kill her dragons and mine?”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with killing her dragons. You know that. We were both in the tournament match when that happened.”

  “I know. That’s why I didn’t believe it at first. What did you do, give that to the men as payment?”

  “Everyone knows I wear that cross. It would be stupid of me to use it to fund a crime.”

  “Then explain how it came to be in that field.”

  “Maybe the chain broke and it fell off when I flew over or—” Reven stopped as if he’d thought of something.

  “Or?” Henry didn’t want to believe Reven was so cruel as to kill drago
ns, but he needed an explanation.

  “Before the match I met up with Kathryn. She wanted to express her happiness for our impending marriage. While I have no intention on marrying her, I’m not one to turn away a woman disrobing before me. I took off the necklace and maybe I forgot to put it back on.”

  “So you’re telling me you think the elegant Lady Kathryn went on a dragon killing spree?”

  “She could have paid someone, like she paid to have your Cousin Rachel kidnapped, and tried to have done to Kilburn’s wife. She’s capable of anything—the very reason I won’t marry her.”

  “Reven.” Lord Uther growled his brother’s name in disgust.

  Henry looked at the man stomping toward them, lines of anger distorting his face. “Did I hear you right?” Uther charged. “Are you actually going to lay blame on your intended for that horrendous killing?”

  “Well I didn’t do it.” Reven stated. “And since we are talking about my marriage again, let me make it clear. I will not marry Kathryn. If you wish her in the family, then you marry the woman.”

  “Is she responsible, Uther?” Henry watched his face for the answer. “Did Lady Kathryn take Reven’s necklace and use it to pay someone to kill the Bronson dragons? Or maybe she just stole the necklace for you.”

  “Uther had nothing to do with Lady Kathryn’s actions,” Reven turned to his brother. “Tell him you didn’t.”

  “I don’t know what the young Pembroke is talking about. Why would I care about some worthless dragons?”

  “Because they are good stock and you know Sorcha could train them as well as her father. Which means, one could eventually beat you? And as an added bonus, you would frame Reven to make him vulnerable to your control.”

  Henry knew he had gotten it right when Uther’s face turned red with anger.

  “My dragons are far superior to the Bronson dragons, so I don’t have to kill them. I demonstrated that the day I beat Kell Bronson and sent him to his death,” Uther replied.

  A feminine gasp turned Henry’s head and he saw Sorcha standing several paces away. He ignored her presence. “Maybe you’d like to prove yourself again. It so happens I still have a Bronson dragon. The very one that I beat Reven on in that last match.”