The Northern Knights Series (Boxed Set)

by Amber Dane

  “Nay. Eat more.” His repeated command came as he leaned back, his bench pushed against the wall and with his hooded gaze on her, he lounged there waiting.

  Alexa pressed her lips together in irritation. She spotted the berries and began to shove several of them into her mouth in an unladylike fashion. In her haste to spite him, she choked on one and fumed when she heard his low chuckle of mirth. She shot him a murderous glare before she swallowed them down with a large gulp of wine.

  “I am full.” She said wiping her mouth with one of the cloths before she stood up. She expected him to say more, but he didn’t.

  Camm must have left the fresh water she spotted on another table. Alexa sighed with relief and washed her face and hands. Afterwards, she grabbed her comb and brush that lay next to it, then let out a shriek when she felt him behind her.

  His fingers moved in her thick plait and his warm breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.

  “Your hair is too nice to be braided like this. Wear it loose from now on. Come, sit and I will brush it.”

  His sudden turn at being nice caught her off guard. She wanted to refuse but found that she was suddenly very drowsy and the energy to fight with him tonight gone. She convinced herself that was the only reason she was allowing him to touch her.

  She let him guide her to the bench at the foot of the bed. Within moments, his fingers and heavy hand on the brush begin to lull her into deeper relaxation. Her scalp screamed with pleasure.

  To her surprise, he asked questions about the steward and kitchen staff and Alexa found herself answering with several taxing yawns mixed in. His booming timbre was soon hurting her ears and she wished he would be quiet.

  She covered her mouth, stifling another yawn as she shook her head. It was getting more and more difficult to concentrate on her responses as she grew more weary. Oh, he had a touch like an all-consuming potion of slumber. She almost slipped off the bench, but he caught her by the shoulders.

  “Come, bed awaits us both.” His husky voice brought a tingle to her insides and made her dizzy. Alexa’s tongue felt too heavy to lift for her cry of protest. Just by the sound of his voice, she knew his thoughts were not on sleep and that was before she heard the deepening of his breaths and felt his hardness pressing against her hip.

  She had hoped that he would not want to do that tonight, even though she’d tried to ignore the feisty passion they’d shared. Was it not too soon? She yawned again. Well, if it meant she could sleep after, then the sooner he finished the better. Tonight he’d get no response from her.

  Her thoughts were muddled and sickness swirled in her gut when he helped her sit on the edge of the bed.

  A chord of terror wound tightly around her. Alexa knew something was terribly wrong when a spots swam before her eyes, blurring her vision. She reached out, waving her hand to get Rourke's attention, but the limp extremity flopped over and fell palm up on her thigh. He did not see for he was busy undressing and ready to pull down his braies. Alexa sighed, the room was spinning and she saw two of his forms.

  Which was too much, heavens, one of his large bodies was more than she could handle.

  She reached for one and touched air. Why could he not stay bloody still?

  She prayed and reached out again. She must have touched him for he turned and faced her. Alexa opened her mouth but nothing came out. The words she wanted to say had trouble forming on her tongue and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with that bloody gag again. Finally, she managed to whisper, “Nor-Norman?”

  She thought she heard him shout her name, but she was not sure as she felt herself sliding off the bed and into his outstretched strong arms. Darkness reached up its heavy fingers and pulled her under.

  SEVEN

  Goran sighed with relief when the healer came to retrieve him from the hall at his lord’s command. Rourke had not left his wife’s side much in the time she’d slept. Goran looked at his whiskered face now as he entered the chamber.

  Rourke sat hunched over on the bench next to the bed that he’d set there since the first night. The smell of sickness was not as heavy and thick within the chamber today. The rancid smelling concoction the healer had forced down his lady’s throat had caused her to vomit several times over the last two days. A good sign indeed.

  When Rourke raised his head to look at him, a light shone there that had not been before and his shoulders now seemed less tense. Indeed a good sign.

  Rourke returned his gaze back to his wife. She’d finally wakened just moments ago and had yet to speak. Her wide amber eyes were on him and the look she was giving him was one that said she was not pleased.

  Alexa was stiff. Her muscles screamed at her. What in the hell did he do to her last eve? She held his gaze. His strong fingers were touching her hand. It took her a moment… her thoughts were still cloudy. Her hands had to be free if he was holding one, right? She moved her left one. Yea, they were. She reached up and touched her forehead.

  How much wine had she consumed?

  Guess she had imbibed more than she thought with that one cup. She could feel the hot flush of humiliation rush up her neck. Working the stiffness out of her tongue, she closed her eyes for a brief moment and opened them again when her belly grumbled with hunger. She should have eaten more last night as he’d suggested. She let out a noisy yawn.

  “Where is the platter?” Her voice came out hoarse and soft as a whisper. When he gave her a strange look, she asked him, “Did you eat everything?” She cleared it; her eyes squinting to see him better for the bright morning sun blaring through the window hurt her eyes.

  She turned away and gasped as she noticed the other figures in the room for the first time. His big man, Goran stood at the foot of the bed, and a woman…Ah, the healer from the village, stood near him. What was she doing here? Alexa wondered.

  “Nay, I did not. Can she eat yet?” This last he posed to the healer.

  Alexa frowned.

  “Aye, my lord. Best we see if my lady can drink easily enough first.” The healer’s small form moved nearer the head of the bed, a cup gripped in her wrinkled hand.

  Alexa cast a dumbfounded look to Rourke and sat up straighter. She tried to pull her hand free of his grasp, but he held fast and did not relent. He looked tired, leaning close.

  He looked as though he’d been up for a while already. Alexa blushed; embarrassed that she had slept in late yet again. Swallowing, she winced from the soreness of her throat. What was going on? All three of them wore somber expressions. A sudden thought struck her.

  Had she made a fool of herself last night? Fearing that she may have acted on her threat to harm him after he’d brushed her hair, her gaze swept over the exposed and visible parts of his skin. He wore a dark colored tunic. She saw no signs of cuts or markings.

  “What do you look for?” He queried with an arched golden brow.

  “I thought I might have taken a sword to you again. But I see no new markings on your person, of what I can see, that is.”

  His emerald eyes twinkled with dark intent. The moment was long before he replied with venom, “Nay, hellion that did not happen.”

  Goran hid a smile behind the bed post. His lady still had not learned how lucky she was. She did not know that her husband, whether she knew it or not, was holding a fondness for her already. Had it been any other, Goran would be carrying out a headless carcass.

  Rourke watched her with his steely gaze. “Besides, my blades are much too heavy for you.”

  Alexa remarked with conviction. “I’m glad, because I would have wanted to remember that.”

  Rourke gave her another dangerous look.

  Alexa ignored it, growing annoyed. “What goes on here then? I had enough to drink, thank you.” She waved away the cup the healer lifted to her lips, her eyes only on Rourke. “My hand, please.”

  Rourke felt something needle at him and he ordered, “Do you drink first, then answers will come.” He took the cup from the healer and brought it back to her mou
th.

  “Nay.”

  When she moved to slap the cup away yet again, he said more firmly, “Either you drink on your own or I will hold your mouth open and pour it down.”

  Her cheeks grew warm and from the savage look in his eyes, she knew he’d do it. “I can do it myself. What is it?”

  “Water, my lady.” The healer interjected quickly, then took a fearful step back.

  Alexa calmed and gave the older woman a smile. She would do it for this woman, not the Norman. She looked at him as she took the cup and drank. She coughed several times. Her husband quickly began to slap her back. By the second hit; she was ready to scream in pain from his whack.

  Goran called out to him. “Rourke!”

  Rourke halted mid- swing. She was in the middle of the bed and her face crimson. He lowered his hand with a grunt.

  Alexa, catching her breath as he slid her back up with his large hands on her upper arms, cleared her throat and lifted the cup again and this time her throat opened up enough and she emptied it. Her back stung and she was sure she would be black and blue on the morrow. She handed the empty cup back to him with a scathing look of her own.

  “What do you remember, Alexa?”

  Her eyes widened at the sound of her name coming from his mouth. She blushed. What was wrong with him? Had he’d forgotten? He’d been half naked and ready to...

  Rourke watched her and immediately knew what she remembered. His desire was overridden by the anger and concern of her being unconscious for two days. Of what he’d endured watching her in that bed, near lifeless except for vomiting up the foul smelling concoction and poison that had ravaged her body. All she remembered was what happened before she’d fainted dead away in his arms into that deep sleep.

  “Not that.” He gave her a cool look. “I meant what came after.”

  Alexa frowned. So he’d not done it to her again? Confusion had her twisting her lips as she asked, “This?” She waved to indicate the present moment. He was quiet for a long moment. Everyone was. He then nodded to the healer and she quickly left the chamber. Goran came to stand behind him. Dread washed over Alexa as she waited impatiently for one of them to answer her. Her husband gave it.

  “You have slept for two days.”

  Incredulous, Alexa laughed lightly. “You speak nonsense. I don’t imbibe much in the spirits, I’ll readily admit. I had but a sip. And it was not enough to cause me to sleep that long.”

  “You were poisoned.” Rourke told her.

  Alexa sputtered. Poisoned. Her gaze shot from his face of stone to Goran’s, then back to his. “You- you lie. Surely you do?”

  He shook his head and Alexa felt sick. His expression was serious. Her words came out in a whisper. “This is madness…Poisoned?”

  “Aye. Not lethal, nonetheless enough. Luckily your healer knew just what to give you quickly to counter it. ‘Twas meant for us both.” Rourke said, his head shaking in rage.

  Alexa let out a hard breath. “I-I do not believe that. Was it in the food?”

  “Nay, we ate the same thing. ‘Twas only one thing I did not touch. The wine.”

  The memory of the big gulp of wine she’d taken came rushing back to her foggy and sporadic thoughts.

  “Aye, the wine, which would have been shared by us both.” He let his words hang in the air for a second as his watched her. “We’ve yet to find out who is behind it.” His grip tightened on her hand, drawing her gaze back to his. “But, we will soon enough, I promise you this. I do not think that you were the target despite the fact it was the wine. You have said as much yourself that you do not imbibe much, so I doubt they believed you would’ve taken any.”

  “None within my home would do such a thing.”

  “We shall see soon enough. Not everyone here has taken kindly to their new lord, my lady.” Goran added.

  “I tell you, none of my people are guilty of something so…so horrid.” Alexa shot back, glaring at both of them suspiciously.

  “That has yet to be proven. Goran is correct. This place holds many secrets that we have yet to reveal.”

  Rourke’s words felt like knives cutting into her skin and Alexa yanked her hand forcibly out of his relaxed grasp. What did he mean by secrets? What secretes? Anger and panic shot through her. “I know my people. Not one of them would do such a thing. I tell you it was not any that was here before you arrived. After all ‘twas your whore that brought in our tray. Death and destruction is the way of you Normans.”

  He stood up so fast, the bench crashed to the floor and Alexa leaned back as his hands reached out. But, those large fists did not touch her. He drew back and rested them on his hips. Visible fury shook him and something else she read there in his eyes. His heavy breaths fanned her face as he all but shouted over her.

  “Tame your venomous tongue, Saxon or I will be all too glad to show you the destruction I can bring down upon you. What needs happen to you for you to learn?”

  Alexa balked and cursed under her breath. Her eyes stayed glued to his face. There wasn’t a sign of yield in his gaze. She crossed her arms and turned her head away from him. All for naught for he grabbed her chin and turned her back to face him.

  “You will remain under heavier guard until the culprit is found.” His brows furrowed when she bristled and tried to push his hand away. “I will tie you back up, without a second thought. That’s better.”

  He ignored the brewing anger and fear he saw there in her gaze, but she remained quiet. Good. Let her sit in and stew in her anger and be afraid. She had a murderer under her roof. When the time was right, he would bring up the deaths of her father and sister, but not now.

  He turned swiftly and walked out of the room with Goran.

  Rourke paced angrily before the hearth in a small room off the dining hall. They had come in here away from any prying ears after leaving his bedchamber.

  “I will leave no stone unturned to find out who is behind this.” Goran promised.

  Nor would he, Rourke fumed. “Aye.” Rourke responded absently, lost in his inner thoughts.

  The person behind this attack was no doubt feeling emboldened just as they were feeling angry. Angry that their attempt to harm him and his wife or just him had not been a success and with that came fear. And with fear came mistakes. ‘Twas only a matter of time.

  Goran and he had worked hard in secret since their arrival in their quest to find and reveal the person behind the Barnett murders. Had tried to get the murderer to leave a clue or reveal themselves. Now, he would be relentless in his pursuit. Rourke had his suspicions, ones he had not yet shared with his friend, for he wanted to be sure.

  “Aye.” Rourke’s response finally came. His thoughts soon turned to Alexa. Her callous behavior infuriated him and he was angry over her blindness to the threat on her life.

  The woman was intolerable!

  Her hatred for him being a Norman blinded her to the fact that someone had tried to poison them both. She had not said it, but he had seen the accusation in her eyes. He could not believe that she thought it was him. He had seen red and had wanted to strangle the breath from her long neck.

  At first he had thought it to be Lina, but he’d known better. The girl knew her place. The hellion’s maid, Camm had prepared the food that night. He wanted to believe the pretty maid meant no ill will.

  In the short time he’d been here, he was well aware that she was more than a mere maidservant to his wife. But, until he was sure danger no longer lurked and the person identified and lay dead, her visits to his wife would be limited. No matter if Alexa thought otherwise.

  He stopped his pacing and stood at the window. The manor’s activity of the day filled the courtyard.

  Weariness in his tone, Rourke asked, “Tell me again of what you learned about this maid whom attended Lady Lisbeth?”

  Goran nodded. “Vanished or killed is the theory. Rumors have it, the lady was rather healthy before she fell ill. Took a turn for the worst. Suddenly.”

  “Of course.
Let’s not forget it was my wife that was with her sister when she took her last breath.”

  Rourke met Goran’s direct gaze. Goran’s brows shot up after a moment and he said with a look of disbelief on his face, “You cannot think that she-“

  Rourke’s raised hand cut him off. “Nay, Goran. Her father’s fall?”

  Goran did not wish to answer, feeling anger spark in him at the direction of his lord’s thoughts. But, he did. "'Twas she,” he swallowed, “that was out with him that day.”

  “And she that found him.”

  “Was it not a hunting a party she was part of?” Goran reminded him defensively.

  “Aye, but she was on the top of the moor as he or that is what is said of the tale when he went over the cliff.”

  Goran noted the dead calm in Rourke’s green eyes which meant his lord was pondering another avenue.

  “Again, gossip. Rumors and conjecture. Only she knows what happened that day. No one must know that we are aware her sister and father’s demise were no accidents. This person’s ruse to concoct such a foolhardy act with that poison proves they are testing us.”

  “Aye and so confident they fear they can do anything to her now and get away with it. Despite your presence here.”

  Rourke nodded. He had thought of that. His wife was so sure he’d brought the killer with him. She had no idea that the killer was already in residence and had been among her precious people all along. The death of father and sister were proof enough of that.

  He grumbled under his breath as the ire over her words earlier rose once again in him. His wife was not as naïve as she would have others think.

  “You thinking ‘tis a man?” Goran asked as they prepared to leave the room.

  “Nay.” Rourke said stepping out into the hall just as a smiling Lina walked past with a flirtatious expression and sway of her voluptuous hips. “‘Tis definitely a woman.” Rourke finished and called out for his squire down the hall.

  His young squire came in and Rourke lifted his arms out to the sides for the boy to strap on his scabbard and sword. Then, buckle up his mail and get him his gauntlets. Where they were headed, he had no use for his axe today. The squire bent and slid the small, clean sharp knives into the hidden slots on his lord’s leather boots.