by Joanne Rock
He must. Else why would he allow himself to be taken so easily? Saints protect the poor man. There was no telling what end he would come to in the hands of Hugo, Douglas and John. Her father’s first wife had been a great beauty by all accounts, but she had spawned sons of unusually dim wit. Yet her father had loved them far more than the girl-child offered by his second wife. A girl as weak as her mother, in his eyes. William of Welborne had never counted intelligence as a strength.
More’s the pity.
But after seeing Graham give in to her brothers without a fight, perhaps her father had understood a key to success that she had missed. All the intelligence in the world could not buy a man the lands and respect that a strong sword arm could.
Closing her eyes at last, she swiped away a lone tear she could not help. Graham would suffer bitterly for his presence in her bedchamber, but she could not rely on a quick end for him. He would probably be tortured until he revealed his true purpose and his method of entering the keep once her brothers were sober enough to enjoy their blood sport. She didn’t even have the heart to employ her skill with the Sight to discover if that fate might be true.
Linnet only hoped Graham could convince her brothers more effectively than he’d convinced her that he could not remember how he’d come to be in her wardrobe. Unable to think about Graham’s clean hands or startlingly pale blue eyes anymore if she did not wish to weep, Linnet focused on pushing air in and out of her lungs slowly. Rhythmically. Only sleep would take her away from the lingering regrets about what might have been if she’d been able to escape her future as Lady Kendrick.
But fitful dreams followed, keeping her tossing and turning until she could almost imagine she smelled the clean scent of Graham’s skin. The notion calmed her, soothed her and excited her at the same time.
“Linnet.” The dream voice—Graham’s voice—prodded her to awaken. To open her eyes and remain quiet.
But she knew if she awoke, he would be gone and she would be left imagining his demise at her brothers’ hands. No, better to enjoy these moments with him where he was safe and warm and sliding into her sheets beside her, urging compliance.
Did the man know how readily she would comply in other ways?
Ah, those thoughts were wicked and yet she relished them. Sex should not be a dreaded chore or a brutal coupling as she suspected—nay, knew—a union with Kendrick would be. Sex should thrill and excite, a welcome opportunity to physically indulge oneself completely….
Graham’s hands brushed along her arm and up her shoulder the way it had in other half-remembered dreams. She could imagine the feel of those hands perfectly, since he had touched her thus earlier. Only now, without the barrier of her surcoat, she could savor the warm strength of his callused palms skimming along one bare arm. He paused at the narrow shoulder strap of her nightrail, testing the delicate fabric as if he enjoyed the feel of it. Enjoyed the feel of her through the material.
If only he were real. She would wrestle him into her bed and…
“Linnet.” The voice loomed nearer and more urgent.
And truly, she began to feel quite urgent about the matter as well. Heat stirred inside her belly, spreading over her thighs and her breasts. She could not get close enough to him.
Ready for more of his touch, she guided his hand down the front of her, off her shoulder and to the curve of her breast. He paused for a moment, as if unsure that he should take such a liberty, but then, he cupped the mound through the fine linen and scraped his thumb boldly across the nipple.
The pleasure twisted sharply inside her, her reaction swift and hungry. She arched back wantonly, shamelessly edging her rump closer to his groin when the pinch of metal along her hip reminded her of all she could not have.
Even in her dream, curse it all. Frustrated tears burned her eyes.
“Holy hell.” Graham’s voice was no longer soft and gentle, although he still whispered. A harsh note rasped through his words as he dipped a hand lower to explore the metal confinement her betrothed had insisted she wear while he was at war.
Unnerved, Linnet shook herself…
…and faced Graham Lawson. Very much alive and in her bed.
“Devil take you!” She scrambled back from him, out of his grasp and off the feather-tick mattress, dragging a blanket with her to cover herself. “How long have you been there?”
Her heart beat furiously, her head spinning as she attempted to separate reality from her dream. She’d wanted more of his touch, yet his knowledge of her secret—her chastity belt—embarrassed her.
“How can you sleep in metal?” He rose to his knees, his striped shirt now smudged with dirt and torn at the neck. His whole demeanor struck her as darker and more dangerous, but perhaps that arose from her knowledge that he had somehow escaped her battle-hardened brothers and lived to tell the tale.
Perhaps there was more warrior prowess to this man than she’d initially perceived.
“I can see that you didn’t wish to sleep in metal. How in Hades did you get out of the irons?” If he could free himself from a padlock, what might he be able to do for her dilemma?
The thought made her shiver in pleasant anticipation and she feared not the least of the sensation was a vision of herself exposing her bare body to this man so that he might…help her.
“I told you I would get you out of here.” Even in the pale light of the moon, she could see his smile. His teeth stood out whitely against his skin. “My discussion with your brothers was only a minor delay. Do you still have your belongings packed?”
Dear God, he was serious. Excitement of a new and different kind flowed through her veins, easing the dark heat that his touch had excited.
“I am very much prepared.” She’d kept their bundles stowed beneath her bed only because she couldn’t bear to admit their plan wasn’t meant to be. “But Hugo took the sword I tossed you. Do you have another?”
She didn’t even want to consider the possibility that he did not know how to wield one.
“I’ll take what I need from one of the guys sleeping in your hall. There’s got to be fifty men sacked out there—most of them armed.” He stared at her for a long moment. “But we can’t leave until you’re dressed. Come on.”
He made an impatient gesture that somehow implied a need for speed.
“Then turn around.” She clutched her blanket securely to her chest, dismayed to feel her pulse galloping like a steed in the wild. “I cannot dress until you provide me a bit of privacy. And this time, you may not steal secret looks.”
If she ever disrobed in front of this man again, she would rather be able to enjoy every delicious moment of it. Rogue memories of his touch on her breast fanned the heat within.
Sliding off the bed, he pivoted on his heel, presenting her with his back.
“Really? You might want to reconsider your thinking on that, lady, since it was thoughts of you naked that inspired me to bust free of the chains and get back in your bedroom.”
She yanked a fresh kirtle from her trunk and tugged it over her head, leaving her nightrail in place for now since she would not risk Graham turning around.
“You, sir, are highly inappropriate.” She elbowed her way into a surcoat and realized belatedly she wouldn’t be able to tie the laces without help. And since Edana had elected to sleep elsewhere given Linnet’s anger with her, the only source of assistance would be…
She peered over her shoulder, only to discover Graham watching her.
“Hey, I only turned a second ago when I heard the rustling stop. I assumed you must be dressed.” He stepped closer, his dark, intimate gaze seeming to imagine her without her garments. “Want help?”
Yes. But even more so, she wanted to feel his hands again. Surely she only experienced this level of heat with a stranger because her unfortunate sexual restraints made her all the more—eager.
“It seems I don’t have a choice.” She lifted her arm enough to allow him access to the laces up one side of the garment. “You
didn’t kill my stepbrothers, did you?” She regretted that she had not thought to ask sooner, but her brain had been muddled ever since waking. At his emphatic denial, she continued, “And how did you know Edana wouldn’t be in my chamber just now?”
“Why would she be in here?” He shrugged, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration.
The warmth of his hands near such a vulnerable spot made her shiver.
“She is my maid. Where else would she sleep?” Linnet turned as he finished one side so that he could work on the other. “You are obviously a stranger to England. May I ask where you call home?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He yanked a bit too hard on one of the laces, causing her to stumble slightly. “Sorry. These outfits of yours…Damn.”
“They are not as simple as men’s clothes, I fear.”
“Mostly they’re just sexy as hell.” He finished securing the ties and lowered his hands. “Aren’t you scared of riding off into the sunset with me?”
“If we wait until sunset, yes. Are you mad? We need to leave now, under cover of darkness, before my kinsmen discover you are no longer their prisoner.”
Realizing she would have to double her efforts to ensure they got away safely, Linnet retrieved her ink and parchment to sketch a rough map of the grounds. Graham might be an attractive man who fired her insides with his touch, but he was no strategist.
Since failure was not an option, she would simply apply whatever tactical knowledge she could to his plan.
And although she could swear he swallowed back a laugh at her attempts to help him, she noticed he listened carefully as she outlined her ideas.
IF LINNET WELBORNE LIVED in L.A. in the twenty-first century, she could have been a kick-ass detective. Or possibly a very clever criminal, given her notes on bypassing the guards along the keep’s walls.
Graham knew she thought he was a piss-poor excuse for a knight since he hadn’t fought off her stepbrothers earlier, but he’d never minded being underestimated. Better to pleasantly surprise someone with his capability at the pivotal moment than to devastate them with a failure they hadn’t seen coming. Maybe this way Linnet would be all the more prepared for whatever hardships they faced if she thought she’d have to help him.
But he still had a blade strapped to his ankle that the Welborne wastrels had never thought to look for and he’d easily picked off an extra sword and a dagger from the sleeping dudes in the great hall as they’d left the castle. Between those weapons and his own sword that Linnet had saved for him, he figured he’d give anyone who came upon them a run for their money.
Now, as they climbed down the lowest section of the keep’s walls using a ladder hidden on the parapets from a long-ago siege, Graham couldn’t take his eyes off Linnet’s form descending above him. They’d worked in silence ever since they’d left her room, relying on their predetermined plan to get them this far. Their biggest obstacle would be finding horses to put as much distance as possible between them and the keep, but Linnet swore she knew where they could find shelter.
Catching her in his arms as she reached the bottom rung, Graham felt her swift intake of breath, but she did not cry out. She was made of steely stuff, this woman.
And speaking of steely, he couldn’t wait to ask her what was up with the metal belt she wore beneath her clothes. He’d double-checked her pack before they’d left and found the carving still inside—his key to linking the modern Guardians to ancient rituals, maybe.
Pulling Linnet along with him, they ran full out through the damp meadow grasses surrounding the walls, the scent of the sea heavy in the cool night air. When they finally reached the shelter of the woods, they could at least speak, even if they had to move quickly.
“If you knew that ladder was there all this time, why didn’t you ever try to escape on your own?” Graham couldn’t understand so many things about her, but he found himself wanting to figure her out, to demystify the hints of prickly toughness that went hand in hand with reticence that made her intriguing.
“It would have been a much bigger risk without you. A woman traveling alone, without a protector is—Can a woman travel alone in your lands?” She paused for a moment in their fast walk through the trees where they traveled east toward this shelter she assured him awaited them.
Apparently she thought him from some far-off and exotic country, which suited him fine.
“Yeah. Actually, they can.” Except for when street scum like the Guardians crawled out of the sewers to terrorize a city with multiple abductions. “But it always pays to be cautious. You were smart to wait for an extra set of hands.”
Her soft gulp of laughter surprised him.
“On the contrary, I have found your hands create a great deal of trouble for me.” She ducked under a low branch with him, her gaze fastened on the path in front of them.
She wasn’t flirting with him, was she? He wrote off the thought as wishful thinking since she’d seemed pretty panicked at the idea of finding him in her bed earlier.
“Yet you weren’t afraid to leave your home, your stepbrothers’ protection?” He would never hurt her, but she had no way of knowing that for certain. She took a huge risk to walk out into the darkened forest with a total stranger.
Slowing her pace, she turned to face him, her long hair unbound and wild around her shoulders with bits of leaves decorating the strands.
“I am very afraid to leave my home. But I have arrived at a point in my life where it would be far more dangerous to stay.”
4
“WHAT DANGERS COULD POSSIBLY chase you from home when you have three Neanderthal siblings to scare away anyone who comes near?”
Linnet’s heart still pounded from their escape, their decision to leave on foot putting them more at risk of capture if they didn’t make haste. Even so, the need to unburden herself urged her to speak. Share with someone the hell her life had become these last three years.
“Neanderthal.” She pronounced the foreign word carefully as she ducked under a low-hanging branch, wishing she understood this curious stranger. “You mean big?”
“Neanderthal man lived in the Middle Paleolithic period.” He stared at her hard, his gaze unrelenting in the scant moonlight filtering through the leafy canopy of hazel, oak and ash trees. “Which could be where I’ll end up if I’m not more cautious around old paintings.”
Thoroughly confused, she couldn’t even begin to decipher his meaning, so she pointed the direction to her younger brother’s fortified holding where he maintained a small store of weapons and supplies. The journey would be more perilous in the dark, but at least the temperatures remained mild and pleasant as the year approached Midsummer.
Once they made it to the holding, they would be safe for a few days. They could arm themselves more heavily until she could plan a future for herself without any support from kin. She prayed her head would clear enough to think once she was out from under a constant shadow of fear.
“The dwelling I mentioned is this way, about ten leagues. We could be there in a trice if we had taken the horses.” One day, her young brother would build on the lands with his share of the profits from her marriage to Kendrick, but until then, he’d vowed to keep her safe along with her other brothers until her betrothed returned. Her lifelong servitude would buy her brothers’ wealth. Prestige.
“There was no simple way to ride out the main gate. We would have had to incapacitate several watch guards and even so it would have been a risk.” Graham picked out a path in the dark, his keen eyes finding the worn trail the deer took to a nearby pond. “Can you walk in those shoes?”
“Of course.” She felt every root and downfallen branch in the thin slippers, but she welcomed the physical discomfort after months of increasing mental anguish in a life full of inconsequential luxuries. “Now that I am free, there is a fair chance I can fly if necessary.”
The clean air was scented with pine and not the stench of her brothers and their animals. She inhaled deep breaths,
but in addition to pine, she caught his scent as he waited for her in the darkness. Awareness skittered through her as she realized she was completely alone with this man—a circumstance forbidden to unwed women in general and her in particular.
“Do they abuse you?” Graham held a branch aside for her as they picked their way through the darkened woods.
“My craven kin? They do not dare to lay a finger on me.” No one save wicked Edana had touched her in years. Which perhaps accounted for the reason her blood quickened at Graham’s nearness. “My reasons for wanting to leave have naught to do with my kin, repugnant though they might be.”
She stayed close to him as they moved through the dense forest. The brush around their feet rustled with animals seeking shelter. Now and then she spied small eyes upon them from the trees.
“Then what? You’re sick of not having indoor plumbing or central heat in a windy old castle?”
Once again she couldn’t quite fathom his words, but she suspected he grew impatient from his brusque tone.
“I am leaving to escape a doomed marriage and a betrothed whom I loathe.” Telling him was a risk. She could not afford to have him bring her back to Welborne for the sake of a reward, but she suspected a man like Graham would not be easily swayed to follow any path save his own. Not many men would listen to a woman’s wishes, let alone honor them, and yet he had. Perhaps she misjudged him, but in her mind that decision seemed to hint at a nobility of character.
Graham halted his tromp through the forest so suddenly she all but ran into his broad back. He pivoted slowly, his movements unsettlingly silent.
“You’re married?”
“Nay.” His intense scrutiny made her uneasy. Or perhaps it was his nearness that merely made her skin tingle. “But I am promised to a man whose touch I fear.”
