by Amber Dane
Rourke was lost in his musings while the squire saw to his needs. He blamed part of his anger on weariness. He’d slept next to not at all in the past two days. The other part, he was angry over the feelings that had surfaced watching his wife lie there in that bed.
The ungrateful woman had no idea what he’d gone through. Rourke shook his head to shake the odd feelings away. What would his men think of him? Coldness blanketed his heart.
He barked at Goran and quit the room. With a handful of soldiers at their backs, they rode out of the busy courtyard headed south of the wood. The hour had grown late and he needed to see his errand through before he fell flat on his face from exhaustion. An urgent one where Normans were not so reviled.
EIGHT
Alexa straightened the furs and bedding she’d pummeled in frustration and anger after Rourke and Goran had left, going over in her head what had happened.
So, someone was trying to kill her husband? Hmm, she knew she wanted to. But, did she really? A thought hit her. How had this person known that he’d be the only one to drink the wine? They couldn’t.
Alexa felt something she didn’t want to name crawl up her spine. They had to have known that she would have taken a drink too. She swung her long legs over the bed. They had not just tried to kill him. Nay, the whole ewer had been tainted and both of them would have drunk from the same goblet. There could not have been a mistake. Rourke had deduced the same. The reason he believed the culprit was in her home long before he came. She did not want to believe it. Refused to believe it. But, something nagged at her that it was true. As much as she loathed admitting it, he was no dummy. Aye, that Norman brute was very smart.
He possessed an uncanny trait, she’d noted early on. Like knowing her thoughts. And his eyes, those green eyes shone of intelligence that she found she admired and it frightened her.
Dizziness assailed her as she made her way to the window. Alexa waited a moment for it to pass. She was not tied to the bed and she would be damned, no matter how ill she felt, if she would stay on it. She had missed two days because someone had a bone to pick with one them. Despite his conclusions, she wanted desperately to believe the culprit had to be someone in his own camp.
Her people, as she’d told him would never do such a thing. Even if they were upset with the new lord, all had been aware of his pending arrival and that things would have changed when he married Lisbeth. And Alexa would have been far gone by now.
Where? She still knew not. A convent was out for she was not the overly religious sort. Something Lisbeth had constantly nagged her about.
Nay, once Lisbeth’s wedding had been behind them, she’d planned to carry out her dreams of roaming the country side. Freedom. Donning a disguise as a mercenary or anything to be free of the Norman rule.
Nay, she sighed, she’d only been fooling herself.
Rubbing her belly, Alexa knew deep down she would never have left Lisbeth to face this Norman alone once she would have seen him. Poor Lisbeth would not have fared well.
Alexa loved her sister deeply, but Lisbeth had always been one of delicate sensibilities. A true noble lady. During their childhood, her soft spoken sister had never raised her voice or spoken an unkind word to another. Grief washed over Alexa as memories of playing merry games with her sister in the courtyard below flooded her. Nay, Lisbeth’s docile persona would have been crushed by this Norman. Besides what did it matter now? The insufferable man was now her husband, Alexa closed her eyes on that thought with an exasperated and desperate sigh.
If there were a murderer or murderess among them, he’d brought the demon spawn here. This is what she chose to believe as she’d made it known to him. Still, she would do what she had to. She could not stay here under his rule nor would she ever give into his demands. She’d play cowed if need be to make him think different and leave here at the first chance she got.
They were headed back to the manor just as dusk crept up over the horizon. The chill of the coming night felt good on Rourke’s skin for it kept him awake and from falling out of the saddle. He rubbed a hand down over his tired face. He needed sleep.
As they neared the courtyard, he took in the sight of quiet before them, a few soldiers stood guard. Few serfs lingered about within, most of the faces he recognized. Soon, he would know all for he had just gone and retrieved another batch of his people, from one of his other estates, a small parcel William had given the same night he’d awarded him Barnett lands. Rourke waved a hand behind him and the mass of thirty or more families with wooden carts and horses carrying their belongings filled the courtyard. After giving orders to a handful of soldiers to take the group to their new homes in the village, Rourke headed for the manor with Goran at his back.
NINE
Alexa sat at the chamber window watching all the activity below on yet another sunny day at Barnett manor. Yearning clenched her heart as her eyes swept over the vast view of her lands. Her family had fared well compared to others when small bands of the Normans systematically destroyed large areas around her home in confiscating all and anything that would not bend, showing no mercy, doing William’s bidding.
Her father had refused to join the group of nobles that had banded together and chosen to flee to Scotland a year or so after the Norman Conquest had begun. He had been diplomatic and not wishing slaughter at his own door and the risk of defilement of his daughters, had accepted William as their king, despite his hatred. His love for her and Lisbeth had not made him weak, but a father who loved and cherished his family.
Although now, Alexa was not so sure he’d done the right thing. Lisbeth had died nonetheless. She shook off her melancholy and turned her gaze back to the view outside. How they may have fared in Scotland, she knew not. She sighed heavily.
She shook off her melancholy. The serfs milled about doing their chores in the courtyard, horses grazed off to one side on the unspoilt village green at the northern end of the manor. To the side of her family burial ground, his soldiers practiced, where they’d done so all week with earnest on the open field.
So many changes in such a short span of time.
She’d spied Rourke out there a few times. The man was a master with every weapon he held. Each swing, whether it be a sword, battle hammer, a mace, or his favorite, which had given him his name, the large axe, it had left her in wonderment and with a bit of envy.
He never missed his mark. He and his man usually fought one another. Goran proved he was indeed a mighty foe as well, yet, even he struggled too under Rourke’s battering herculean strength. The man never seemed to tire as far as she could tell. She brushed aside the admiration that filled her and focused on the fact that he never wore protective armor. Bare-chested and proud it seemed during each practice. Alexa cursed the heat that fused in her belly at the sight of that naked muscular body of perfection. Covered in sweat, the sparse golden hairs glistened in the sun, made her nipples tighten with the memory of them rubbing against her breasts. His broad back tapered down to those taut buttocks. Never could she have imagined herself so fascinated with any man’s backside! Alexa clucked her tongue as heat ballooned in her belly. She was a fool for her thoughts.
She saw no sign of his brawny body below now. However, she did see the top of the guard’s heads that were posted below. She fumed and turned away from the window. It had been a sennight since the poisoning and another attempt had not occurred.
Although Rourke slept beside her nightly, he barely spoke two words to her.
He had not tied or gagged her since that night. She’d said nothing of it out of fear he’d do as he’d threatened. A part of her, wanted to believe he did it for another reason and at the same time she was angry she thought it. He should feel bad for doing it. Downright shameful and guilty, Alexa hoped, for she was still confined to this chamber night and day. Trapped. A prisoner. But not for long.
Her only peek into the outside world was the bedroom window. The state of Barnett manor and the going on's, of what little she gleaned fro
m Camm was limited to her short visits. Her maid barely said a word to her for they were never alone.
Rourke now came to her at each meal, only to the chamber door. Overseeing each tray of food and he let no one in the room without a foot soldier present. She had not seen the red- haired Lina either, or the other new maids. Depression and the loneliness were unbearable. Somehow she would escape this nightmare and soon.
TEN
The last bucket of water was poured into the tub and the male servant, not one of her people, walked out into the corridor outside the chamber and spoke with the men posted at the door. Alexa took the stolen moment to whisper to Camm.
“Have you found out yet where he has hidden it?”
“Nay, my lady. I’ve looked everywhere and ‘tis nowhere to be found.” Camm said out of the corner of her mouth as she pretended to be busy with the cloths she had laid near the tub for her.
Alexa cursed under her breath. Wretched man. “Please search again.” She reached out and grasped Camm’s wrist. “Use every caution. The last thing I wish, is to bring his wrath down upon you, Camm. You have been like a sister to me and Lisbeth all these years.”
Camm gave her a shaky smile as her eyes darted to the guards at the door. “Anything for you, mistress. I can handle myself, don’t you worry none.”
“Come on, girl. Move it.” One of the guard’s yelled from the corridor.
Alexa shot him an angry glare. She was still lady here. The pressure Camm applied to her hand drew her eyes back to her. Camm whispered with caution. “My lady, please, do not make it worse. Have your bath.” and her maid turned and quickly left with the guard.
Oh! Her husband’s men did not acknowledge her as lady of the manor but as his prisoner.
Camm could not find her sword soon enough for Alexa. Her pride and joy. Her father had had the weapon forged for her on her tenth summer.
Alexa smiled remembering how heavy it had felt in her small hands back then. She sighed, heavy emotion filling her chest as she lost herself in the memories she’d spent with him, many a long night, mastering the beautiful weapon.
Alexa jerked awake with anxiety in her gut and then let out a tired sigh. She’d fallen asleep in the tub. Her gaze went to the window. It was not yet dark. She wanted to be abed before he came. The hot bath had relaxed her a little too much and rising out of the cool water, she wrapped one of the soft cloths around her body. Her thoughts turned back to Rourke.
Over the past few days, when night came, she climbed into bed alone, but woke during the night to find herself cocooned in his warmth and pressed against his hard chest. And she’d sleep like the dead after, not waking again until Camm came at dawn with the tray to break her fast.
Being in his arms, so close to him, even now with the memory she could feel his smooth skin under her fingertips and it angered her that she liked it. Alexa had at first refused to acknowledge it, but it was true. His scent haunted her all day. She was wound tight as a bow and she had no idea why. Aye, she did.
The damn man could at least bestow a kiss upon her.
Was he not affected being so close to her? Nay, he was not and the thought sent a jumble of emotions to her heart. He’d not acted on any of the chance brushes across her skin. Just last night she’d wakened to find his hand covering her right breast. She had tried to turn away from his touch, but instead she turned into it, seeking more, to her horror. The hard, sensitive peak had pressed into his palm and sweat had broken upon her brow. He had done nothing but drop his hand to her waist and let out a light snore.
She’d taken the opportunity in her frustrated state to study his beautiful face. More like taken advantage of him. When he slept he appeared even more beautiful because his face, more relaxed and free of that fierce scowl captivated her. Long golden lashes swept over chiseled cheeks and that mouth- God forgive her; she had outlined the shape of those full lips with her fingertips, nightly. She felt safe enjoying her explorations for he slept like the dead too and knew naught of the liberties she’d taken to appease her curiosity. She’d not shied away from any part of him.
Even that hard part of him which seemed to stir every time she’d lift the edge of the fur over his hip. She never looked long for fear he’d wake and discover the awe and attention she gave to his body each night. Aye, she enjoyed taking her fill of him. But, he need not know.
‘Twas bad enough she looked forward to seeing him and had even started to go to bed earlier and earlier each eve just to hurry his presence along. Like now.
She told herself it was the overwhelming feeling of loneliness and sadness that caused her to do so and caused her to crave his attention. After all, ‘twas his fault.
He kept everyone and everything away from her, even if she had been the one in the beginning to tell him just so. She was perturbed that the hate she held for him seemed to lessen, almost against her will as time passed and she was angry at the loss of that feeling. She wanted to hate him. But, even as she thought it, Alexa knew it to be a lie.
Dressed in a clean shift, she moved back to the bench near the window, a needle and tunic now clutched in her hands and sat down. She still had time to see to this before the sun set. She began to work on the material sewing a second row of threading next to the original. The madness she suffered was going to soon end.
ELEVEN
Rourke trusted no one and so he had his own cook take over the kitchen duties as head and Barnett’s cook had balked, albeit quietly. Now, after a few days, the two cooks acted as though the arrangement had always been the way of it. Other changes had occurred within the manor in the week as well.
Rourke was well aware of the fear the servants had of him and the serfs had sworn their fealty to him, yet, the underlying hatred and visible tensions, still ran amongst a remaining few, one group in particular.
A group of lazy Saxon guardsmen and their wenches. He kept a keen alert, along with Goran on the lot all the time. When he could not, trusted foot soldiers in his regime did. Like now, that lot was huddled about just inside the gates with his men watching over them as villagers came and went reaping the harvest and doing their daily chores.
Rourke’s thoughts turned back to his wife and he looked across to the manor at their chamber window. He grunted. He was wound tight as a bow. The first night he had been too exhausted to care or notice anything and had slept like the dead. But, after the second night he’d been ready to explode when she had snuggled her hips against him. Even Lina’s lusty charms had not been enough to entice him to relieve the beast of desire Alexa had caused to run rampant in his body. He had thought after having at the Saxon hellion, he’d get the raging need and her out of his system.
He had been wrong. He knew she did not think he was aware of her innocent curiosity and he’d enjoyed every minute of it.
Rourke even looked forward to it and found himself rushing through manor business of the day so he could retire to their chamber earlier and earlier. To find her abed only made the all-too sweet anticipation even sweeter. He trusted himself only if she were asleep, for it was getting harder and harder not to taste the volatile passion they had shared. Especially when she’d lower the fur back over his growing hardness.
She had whimpered in her sleep the first night, then tossed and turned each night thereafter and only seemed to calm when he slid his arms around her. He’d no desire to tie her again for he liked the feel of her hands on him. Several lusty images had floated through his mind when she had traced his mouth. He touched a finger now to his lips as he remembered the feel of her fingers against them. He cast the desirable image away when he saw something move in their chamber window.
Alexa peered out the window. Another day of imprisonment. A few dark clouds had started to fill the afternoon sky. The two guardsmen stood at their posts below. She snorted. ‘Twould take more than the two of them to keep her locked inside. She was going stark raving mad. It was her home. She knew it better than that unfeeling Norman.
Her gaze swept over to t
he cemetery and a lance of pain sliced through her heart as did a spark of anger. Lisbeth, why did you leave me? Alexa screamed inside.
She leaned carefully out the window. The two guards were engaged in a heavily animated conversation, some of their words wafted up to her on the light breeze and Alexa chuckled with disgust. Battle, of course and both, she knew, were exaggerating with tall tales.
Something out of the corner of her eye drew her attention near the practice field where her gaze fell upon two lone figures standing off to the side. Their large frames appeared to loom over the grounds, their shadows falling like tall oaks across the yard. They were too far away, but from where she sat, it looked as though their forms faced the manor. She couldn’t see their faces from this distance, but she need not to know who they were.
Their height alone gave them away along with the feeling of the fear creeping up her spine. The eerie sense of being caught grew ripe in her gut. Both men stood still and she waited a second. Alexa did not know that she stopped breathing as she waited. He couldn’t see her from that distance, could he? The man would have to have eyes of a hawk to be able to see that far. Alexa chided herself, and let out a hard breath and leaned further out.
His large form stepped toward the manor. She froze.
Nay!
The bastard could see. She pulled back only to groan aloud as his pace quickened and his long angry stride brought him closer and closer. She did not move until he was near enough for her to see clearly the fierce look on his handsome face. Oh damn! She backed away and ran to the bed. Not that it would do much good, she thought, it was too late and her gasp lodged in her throat when the door opened.
