by Denise Lynn
The younger two were less imposing. One was quite a bit larger—taller, longer of limb—than the other, but neither had yet lost the obvious eagerness of youth. They talked softly with each other, taking turns to look around as if curious about everything within sight—including her.
She found their attention amusing, just as she would if they were all gathered in her father’s hall. If that were the case, these would be the two with whom she would converse to pass the time. They appeared safe, unimposing and, to be completely honest, easier to manage than the other two.
The youngest one waved towards the supplies, saying, ‘If you are hungry we’ve plenty of food.’
To her surprise, she wasn’t hungry in the least. Her glance flitted towards Gregor. Food was the last thing on her mind. ‘No, thank you, not right this moment.’ She glanced behind her at the bulging bags, before turning back to add, ‘Besides, I wish not to deplete stores you need for the remainder of your journey.’
The glare from one of the older men intensified. She wondered what she’d said to displease him. Finally, her error dawned on her. It was likely that, in his opinion, she, a mere woman—worse, an outsider—had just taken the men to task about the correct use of their supplies.
Not wanting to start off on his bad side, she turned her full attention to him. ‘I know the offer would not have been made were there not enough to share. However, there are times I could eat more than the four of you combined and that would not serve you well.’
It took a moment, but to her relief the corner of his mouth twitched before curving up to a half-smile. ‘My lady, I seriously doubt if you could even eat more than just Harold here, let alone the four of us.’ He jerked a thumb towards the tall, gangly guard. ‘We have decided that he is hollow clear to his toes.’
‘Besides,’ the man sitting next to him added, ‘it is obvious you don’t overfill yourself on a regular basis.’
‘And I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.’ Beatrice laughed softly, more with relief at having avoided angering the Wolf’s guard than anything else.
The youngest one jumped up. ‘I need to check the nets before it gets dark.’
After he left, she asked the remaining three men, ‘Have you all been in your lordship’s service long?’
The oldest nodded, the one in the middle stared at the ground, while the one called Harold shook his head. They really didn’t need to be so close-mouthed, it wasn’t as if she was trying to ferret out secrets, just simply thought to pass the time in conversation.
To her relief the one in the middle finally replied, ‘The four of us were all born on Roul Isle where upon reaching adulthood the options are either to leave the isle, learn shipbuilding, dock work or join the family’s guard.’ He hitched a thumb towards the oldest, saying, ‘James here was so adept with tools that he lost a finger the first day at the shipyard.’
James held up his left hand to give proof of the missing digit. ‘Seemed to me I’d be safer with a sharp weapon in my hand.’
Harold offered, ‘Like Daniel...’ he nodded in the direction the youngest had just gone ‘...I followed in the footsteps of my father and brothers by taking up arms for the Rouls.’
The choices were the same for the men on Warehaven. ‘All worthwhile reasons for your choices.’ She looked at the man in the middle, wondering about his reason for joining Roul’s guard.
He shrugged a shoulder before saying, ‘I just wanted the opportunity to kill.’
Beatrice’s stomach clenched, then felt as if it would plummet to the ground.
The oldest man punched the other one. ‘Colin! You will frighten the girl to death.’
Colin rubbed his arm and hung his head before giving her a sheepish half-smile. ‘I apologise. In truth, the old lord forced me into his service to keep me from causing any further mischief at the docks.’
Beatrice laughed. ‘Now that I understand since there have been a few hellions on Warehaven coaxed out of their wayward ways with a little training.’
Harold stared as if in shock at Colin. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally finding his voice. ‘You were a troublemaker? You?’
Colin glared at Beatrice. ‘Now see what you did?’ He lifted his chin and turned his face away as if grievously wounded. ‘You’ve ruined my golden reputation.’
James rolled his eyes. Harold shook his head.
‘Pray forgive me, Sir Colin, I meant not to sully your good name.’
The man looked back at her, laughing as he lifted a foot. ‘Do you see any spurs on these boots? I am nobody’s sir.’
‘Did you ever aspire to be?’
In unison all three of the men said, ‘Hell, no!’
Her lips twitched at the emphatic reply.
‘Do you see Sir Simon over there?’ Colin asked.
She turned to look at where Simon and Gregor were deep in conversation, then looked back at the men seated around the fire with her. ‘Yes, why?’
‘He was knighted on the battlefield along with the old lord. That sir before his name came with responsibilities most of us desire not.’
James added, ‘It is much easier to follow orders than it is to give orders that may or may not prove to be the right ones.’
‘It’s more than just coming up with the right orders without any advance notice.’ Colin shot a quick glance back towards Gregor and Simon, before continuing. ‘It also involves ensuring the lord doesn’t place himself in too much danger.’
‘Does Lord Gregor take too many risks?’
Harold snorted as he rose, saying, ‘I’ll go and see what’s keeping Daniel.’
Once the young guard had left, James asked in a near-whisper, ‘Have you heard the rumours about Lord Gregor?’
‘Just that he’s King David’s Wolf and from what I can gather, someone to be avoided.’ She kept her voice just as low as James had, realising he didn’t want Gregor to overhear.
‘He was married once.’
‘Really?’ That was something she hadn’t heard, or if she had, she hadn’t paid any attention since Gregor of Roul wasn’t someone she would ever come in contact with under normal circumstances. ‘I didn’t know that.’
Colin cleared his throat and quickly jerked his head towards Gregor and Simon. ‘Perhaps it would be best if that tale came from him.’
‘I wasn’t going to tell her about his marriage,’ James insisted, ‘but you and I both know that was when he started taking more risks than was necessary.’
At Colin’s glare, James closed his mouth. Both men fell silent and by the stiffening of their bodies, Beatrice knew the conversation was over. Which was fine, since they’d already given her enough to think about.
So, Gregor had been—or was—married. Interesting, considering he never mentioned a wife, nor did he act as if he currently had one. She wondered what had happened. Who had he married? When? What was she like? So many questions she wanted to ask, but it was apparent the men weren’t going to supply the answers.
Would Gregor answer them? She glanced towards him and noticed his rigid stance and the scowl on Simon’s face. They were arguing.
About what? she wondered. When Simon nodded in her direction, she had the sinking feeling it was about her.
Chapter Six
After settling Beatrice on the log before the fire, Gregor joined Simon out on the road. Before he could say anything, Simon asked, ‘May I speak freely, Lord Roul?’
If the cold tone and use of his title wasn’t enough, the added fact that Simon asked for permission instead of jumping right in let Gregor know that his captain had once again assumed the role of nursemaid.
He groaned and waved the man to continue. It would be pointless to deny him. The man would have his say whether it was wanted or not.
‘What are you thi
nking?’
Gregor looked up at the tops of the trees where the birds had gathered to sing. They were probably laughing at him in a tongue only they understood. Their chiding was understandable—after all, how many men permitted their underlings the freedom to voice their opinions knowing full well the offering was going to be unwanted? He drew his attention back to Simon. ‘That you are about to take me to task for something.’
Simon’s eyes widened, before narrowing to mere slits. ‘I saw you. You were holding her in your arms and from the look on your face you’d wanted to do more.’
Why did he suddenly feel as if he’d just been caught in the stables with the cook’s daughter? They’d been thirteen when her mother had tossed a bucket of ice-cold water on the two of them. At least the woman hadn’t spoken a single word—there’d been no need for a lecture since her action had made her displeasure quite clear. The cold, greasy gravy that night had only reinforced her opinion.
He knew that he wasn’t going to get away as lightly this time. Simon looked like he had words a-plenty that he was about to spill.
‘She was afraid and threw herself into my arms. What would you suggest I should have done? Toss her aside?’
‘Have you lost your good senses?’
‘Not at all.’ Although he was fairly certain his man had.
‘Mere days from now you will take her home from her and kill her father. Have you forgotten that?’
‘No. I’ve forgotten nothing.’ He couldn’t forget it. The knowledge consumed him.
‘Do you think your actions now will make anything about to happen less hard for her?’
‘Nothing will make it less hard for her. But in time the pain will lessen.’
‘That girl will hate you, Gregor. With every drop of blood in her body, she will hate you.’
‘At least it will be hate and not fear. Besides, she will be my wife. I have no choice but to shoulder her hatred.’ He was familiar with hatred, withstanding it would be nothing he’d not done before.
‘Shoulder her hatred? Is that what you intend to do for the rest of your life?’
‘What other choice do I have? No matter what, she is going to despise me. I see nothing wrong with the two of us getting along now, while we can.’
‘There is another choice. Take that damn island for King David. Hand the shipyard over to the Empress and let the girl die with her father. It would be more merciful to you both.’
Gregor’s body tensed. His breath caught in his throat as if Simon had just punched him in the gut. No. Regardless of the tales told, he’d never killed a woman and he wasn’t about to start now.
Simon grasped his arm and stared up at him. ‘Dear Lord, you are smitten with her.’ He released his hold, stepping back as if burned, and shook his head. ‘You will get us all killed, Gregor.’
The older man was testing his patience. ‘None of us is going to die.’
‘We’re headed into a battle against someone who will believe you betrayed her in the worst way possible. Someone is going to die.’
‘Enough. Simon, none of us is going to die. I am not smitten.’
His man snorted. Nodding towards Beatrice, he asked, ‘Are you lying to yourself or trying to convince me?’
‘I am lying to no one. I admit I find her desirable. But that’s not a bad thing considering she will be my wife. I have not forgotten my duty to my King, nor have I forgotten how to fulfil his orders.’
‘A desirable wife who will want you not.’
‘Wanting me is something that’s not determined by her head or heart.’ She would hate him. He knew that. But he also knew that in their marriage bed, her body wouldn’t care what her heart said. More than before, she was full of nervous tension when he touched her, a nervousness that had nothing to do with fear and much to do with desire. It was evident in the shimmer of her lingering gaze and the easiness in which she rested in his embrace. She would likely despise herself for it, but she would eventually come to him willingly.
‘I’ll not argue with you, Simon, she deserves better, but I am all she will be given.’
‘Bah. Deserves better. What manner of talk is that? What about you, Gregor? Don’t you deserve something better?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘No, I do not. To be given a wife who hates me, yet doesn’t fear me, is more than I could ever hope for in this life.’
‘What is wrong with you? You cannot go through life worrying that every woman is like Sarah. She was weak of spirit, broken before you ever came into her life.’
‘That is something we will never know, will we?’
‘Gregor, when is this unwarranted guilt going to stop?’
He was not going to have this conversation. Not with Simon. Not with anyone of this world. In due time he would answer to a power greater than either of them—whether it be God or Satan was yet to be determined. Although he was fairly certain it would not be God. Gregor turned away, ready to return to the fire and leave his man here to fret over things that could not be changed by himself.
‘Boy, answer me.’
Boy? This man playing nursemaid dared to call him boy? Clenching his fingers into a fist, Gregor swung back around, prepared to do something he’d never before dared imagine.
What could have been a punishing blow met nothing but empty air. Simon easily dodged his fist with a laugh. ‘Surely you don’t think you are the first Roul to try that?’
‘One of these days you will go too far, Simon, and end up dead. This conversation is finished.’
‘I have known you all of your life, Gregor.’ Obviously the man was going to ignore him. ‘Had you been able to stop her, you would have. Lad, it was not your fault.’
‘She is still dead.’
‘But not by your hand.’
‘You saying so does not relieve me of the burden.’
‘The burden of what? Sin? Gregor, you are not a man of the cloth, nor do I see you becoming one. Accept what happened and pay your penance in gold if you must.’
‘You can’t buy your way into heaven.’
‘Heaven is for the dead. You are not yet dead.’
‘One day I will be.’ Sometimes he felt that he already was.
‘So will we all.’ Simon heaved a heavy sigh. ‘Lad, until that day comes grasp what joys you can.’
Beatrice’s laugh broke into their conversation. Gregor closed his eyes at the tendrils of warmth brushing across the back of his neck.
Simon groaned, but said nothing.
Lingering in the warm caress, Gregor said, ‘A little bit of joy is all I seek right now. If the possibility of shared desire is all we will have between us, what harm is there in stirring the embers now before anger and hatred have a chance to taint the passion?’
‘You risk spinning a fanciful web that in the end could entrap you just as surely as it will her.’
‘No web is being spun around either of us. I go into this knowing full well that it will not last. Once the keep is taken and the marriage validated, I will take my leave just as I had planned, no worse for the experience.’
‘And in the meantime you grow more attached to the girl and she to you. How will that leave either of you no worse for the experience?’
‘Yes, she will despise me and I will take that hatred with me when I go. But we will both have these few days of easy pleasure to remember.’
‘You have lost your wits. A cherished memory or two will not make up for the fact that neither of you will be free to find a life worth living, nor anyone to share it with.’
They could talk in circles all night long, but it would get them nowhere. ‘It is what it is, Simon.’
‘Yes, well, just remember you are not the only one taking a risk at the moment.’
Gregor glared down at Simon. ‘Have I ever put your
lives at an unnecessary risk? Have I ever led you into battle with an uncertain outcome?’
Simon shook his head.
‘I am not going to do so now.’
The older man sighed again. ‘I will badger you no further. Just be careful, Gregor, that you don’t spin this web so tightly around yourself that you can’t break free, or see through the webbing.’
Without another word, Simon left him standing on the side of the road. Gregor flexed his shoulders and then rolled them, trying to release the tension this useless conversation had created. He wasn’t witless, he knew what he was doing. Had any of his other men even thought to query him in such a manner, they’d find themselves not only on the ground, but without a position.
What was wrong with Simon? Was he too old to be out on a mission? The only one who needed to watch what they were doing was Simon. Much more of this type of interference and the man would find himself sitting alone in Roul Hall on any future missions.
Somewhat free of the tension, Gregor headed back to the fire.
* * *
Beatrice sensed Gregor’s imminent return, the tingling feeling in her belly wasn’t from hunger. She looked in his direction, meeting his gaze, and forced herself not to sigh at the way her heart fluttered at his approach.
He joined her on the log, sitting so close that he gained questioning glances from a couple of his men and smirks from the other two. His second-in-command, Simon, ignored him completely by staying away from the fire altogether, leaving Beatrice to wonder if she’d been the reason they’d argued.
Conversation, which had once again become boisterous and easy-going before his arrival, now became stilted. The men began shooting glances from Simon to Gregor and back, making it obvious that they, too, felt the disquiet between the two men.
She stared at the three birds the young guard Daniel had caught in his net as they cooked over the fire. They weren’t done yet, but she couldn’t simply sit here, doing or saying nothing. The air seemed to thicken with the building tension, especially since she was fairly certain she was the cause.
