The air was cool and crisp. A light fog gathered around the shrubs and curled in thin white wisps like fragile ghosts.
Jared’s hand was steady as he carried the hawk on his leather glove. He moved in a smooth, gliding walk. Aeliana and he seemed to have an understanding, as if this routine was, to them, as normal as breathing.
The gentleness he had with the hawk fascinated Gwyneth. “Aren’t most hawks hooded?”
“Aye. But Aeliana is not most hawks. She kept me alive at a time when I could not feed myself.”
“When was that?”
His staff made soft taps on the ground. “I was … placed wrongfully in prison a few years ago—”
Her heart lurched. “Prison?”
“—and she brought me pigeons,” he continued, not answering her question. “Most hawks would have left their owners, but not my Aeliana. She cared for me as well as though she was my keeper rather than the other way around.”
No wonder their bond seemed so strong.
“But why were you imprisoned? I thought you were to be a monk.”
“A misunderstanding.” Jared turned slightly and scanned the area. A giant hawthorn tree and two oaks stood just ahead and many shrubs squatted along the ground. It was clear that he was finished with explaining what he meant.
“What sort of misunderstanding? Is that why people were looking for you?”
“Shush. Time to hunt, not talk.” Jared’s fingers tightened on his staff, squeezing against the engraved dragon. “No talking unless spoken to.”
So they were back to that. Hmph. So much for the comfortable silence. Time to stop enjoying the morning and start analyzing and planning out how to work this relationship to her advantage. She wondered what he had been in prison for. So much she did not know about her new husband.
They reached the edges of the forest a short while later. The hawk’s yellow eyes seemed to drink in the scene like a starved man at a feast. Jared flicked his hand and tossed her into the air. Her black and brown wings opened in a graceful spread and she flew overhead, following them.
With his staff, Jared began to flush out prey from the bushes. The red eyes on the carved dragon flashed this way and that. At once a rabbit ran out, its brown body scampering to and fro away from them. The hawk followed it, then swooped down in a blur.
Gwyneth gasped and leaned back to watch. Before, she had been too exhausted to pay much attention to the hunt, but this time she found the chase exhilarating.
The rabbit squeaked as Aeliana caught it in her talons and lifted it into the air. For a moment, she wondered if the bird would fly off with its prey, but instead she returned to Jared.
Jared, obviously pleased that Aeliana had caught something on the first run, cooed softly to the bird.
“That is—”
“Silence.”
As the morning progressed, more and more frustration built inside Gwyneth at Jared’s insistence that she remain silent.
She longed to talk, to ask questions so that she could learn more about him and the hawk.
She twitched her hair, trying to get his attention, but he only stuffed the prey into a canvas bag, gave Aeliana something from a pouch at his belt, and set about flogging the bushes again.
Maybe she should feign tripping, give him an excuse to speak with her and break his code of silence.
The trail widened and plenty of tree roots lined the ground—a ready excuse. Dragging her toes across one of them, she stumbled to get Jared’s attention. He reached a hand out to steady her. She waited expectantly, but he nodded and turned back to hitting the bushes with his staff. The scent of wood and grass hung in the air. Glossy green leaves floated upward and a steady whack, whack, whack rent the air.
Devil take it. How could he say naught all morning long?
“Jare—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand.
Frustrated, she followed along, trying to pick up more clues on how man and hawk worked together. He had fed the bird something from his pouch but the hawk ate it so quickly that she was unsure what it was. Raw meat, likely.
Perhaps she could sneak some from the kitchens to placate Aeliana when she woke up during the night.
A flock of birds lifted into the air and the hawk swooped again.
Another animal was caught, stuffed into the bag.
Whack, whack, whack. More leaves. More thrashing of the bushes.
More flights. Each time Aeliana returned without the least hesitation. What was Jared’s secret? How did he get the hawk to trust him so much? All she needed was some small bit of knowledge that she could use to be able to leave her chamber without upsetting it. That way she could make it to the brothel, speak with Irma, and send a missive to her sisters. Rescuing Elizabeth, the one who could not speak, weighted heavily on her chest as well. So much rode on her success.
Tapping her foot, she contemplated her options. He had not taken the bait when she’d feigned tripping.
What about—without overthinking the action, she stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek as he was stuffing the next rabbit into the canvas container.
His whole body reacted with a jerk. Dropping the bag with a thunk, he grasped her hard by the shoulders; she gasped.
“What was that for?” A harsh line formed between his eyes.
She smiled inwardly. “I needed to ask you something.”
The look on his face was incredulous, like he’d just been bitten by a poisonous spider and was waiting to die. “You kissed me so you could ask me something?”
“You told me to not speak unless spoken to.”
Above them, Aeliana made a noise, obviously eager to get on with the hunt.
Jared glanced upward.
“I would like permission to speak as long as I do so respectfully,” she rushed. She hadn’t intended to be so graceless, but it might be the only chance she would get at asking.
Frowning, he released her shoulders. “Nay.”
Devil take it!
Gathering her courage, she leaned forward and kissed him soundly on the lips. If once had worked …
The forest spun as she was pushed backward until rough bark scraped against her back.
In one quick motion, Jared snatched her wrists and pinioned them above her head. From chest to thigh, his heat seeped into her body, filtering through her kirtle.
“What are you about, Gwyneth?”
A memory of their coupling flitted into her mind, but she shoved it from her thoughts. If Jared intended to hurt her or force her into her wifely duties he would have done so while they were in bed together, not out in the forest like an animal. She had naught to fear physically from him except having to wear the brank again. She shivered. That was bad enough.
His eyes had taken on a stormy green. “Why did you kiss me—does it have something to do with you getting up in the night?”
Curses!
She licked her lips, wanting to formulate her answer carefully to appease his suspicion. “I only had to use the garderobe last night,” she said slowly.
He waited, as if expecting her to say more.
Aeliana circled above them.
Jared’s falconer’s patience agitated Gwyneth. ‘Twould be easier if he railed at her, demanded answers. This waiting, this patience from a man was bizarre. Her father had gone on long rants whenever she’d broken one of his rules; he never actually asked for explanation. She had learned to wheedle her way around it, but never by straightforward speech.
She bit her lower lip. The way he looked at her as if he could see inside her made her long to tell him things, confess secrets that he did not need to know. ‘Twas as if somehow he had cast a spell on her that compelled her to speak the truth.
Truth! What use was that to a woman? Every time she’d told the truth, it had been used against her later.
“I would like to talk to relieve the boredom of the day, my lord.”
“Boredom of the day?” He glanced at the sun, which was barely creeping o
ver the horizon. Yellow and orange tinged the sky. “The day has not yet begun.”
“'Tis my favorite time of day,” she said with what she hoped was a convincing smile. She made her voice as husky and feminine as she could manage. Most men responded to that by pure instinct. “I will not cause you any trouble, I swear it. I would only like leave to speak at will so long as I am respectful.”
His brows drew together again and he seemed to be debating.
“I am … curious about hawking, my lord,” she said, tossing him bait. ‘Twas clear he loved his sport.
“About hawking?” He looked mystified, stunned even.
“Aye.” She blinked. Shouldn’t he at least move his jaw around or develop a tic or something? His stillness, his patience was just plain odd.
Aeliana made another noise.
“You may speak,” Jared drawled, “for a price.”
“A price?” She frowned. “You have already taken over my dower lands.” And my virginity. Although you agreed to take only a trunk of gold.
“Another kiss. ”
Another kiss? A thrill of victory slid through her. She could definitely use this to her advantage.
Tilting her head to one side to better scrutinize his handsome face, she pondered this.
“A kiss would be fair, Jared,” she whispered, purposefully using his Christian name to create a sense of intimacy between them.
For an instant he looked somewhat startled in the male way she was familiar with: His nostrils flared and his eyes dilated slightly.
Victory! She clenched her teeth together to keep from smiling. If she tweaked his pride in any way, she might be back at the beginning of this conversation.
He leaned forward, his lips brushing her skin. The touch was surprisingly gentle considering how captive he held her body. Her hands, still held above her head, relaxed.
His mouth lingered on hers. There was no bruising demand for domination, just a slow, gentle conquest. Her body slackened as lips touched lips, breath touched breath.
Heat pooled between her thighs.
His tongue licked the seam of her lips and tightness formed in her belly. For an instant the world stood still as he tasted her mouth. He did not hurry and she felt herself slowly being sucked under his spell. Birds chirped their morning songs and the brush rustled in the slight breeze.
His groin pressed against the softness betwixt her legs and she felt his manhood swell.
She gasped as the memory of Irma being pulled down in the woods crashed unbidden into her mind. Her shoulders went rigid, and Jared’s hands on her wrists felt suddenly tight even though she could easily move her fingers. Darkness clawed its way up her throat.
Immediately Jared broke the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” He looked back at the trail. “Did you see something?”
Images of the man pumping his manroot into her friend crashed on her mind. Her legs tensed. A small squeak came out of her throat.
He released her hands and put space between their bodies. “Did I frighten you? It wasn’t my intention—I mean, at first it was, but then—” He stopped, and pointed to a fallen log a few feet away from them. “We should sit for a moment.”
She blinked to clear her head, to clear the past and deal with the present. Taking her hand, he led her to the log. The bark snagged the cloth as she straightened out her skirts.
“Are you well? ”
“Aye.”
His knuckles brushed her cheek. “Surely you know I have no intention of forcing you. ‘Twas only a kiss we shared.”
“Yes, my lord. ”
Guilt crossed his face. “I had not intended to bring back memories of our wedding night. Truly, things do not have to be thus between us. We could have a new beginning.”
The wedding night had not been on her mind, but she said naught to correct him.
“I thought we could court each other. ”
Why was he being kind? “Court? We are married already. ”
“'Twas only a thought.”
She scooted away from him. A little rip tore in her skirt. She didn’t like this new consideration he was showing. Easier to think of him as an uncontrolled brute, not someone capable of any patience or consideration. Certainly not someone worth courting.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and lifting her to her feet as if they were guests at a feast, not tramping through the forest to hunt for tonight’s supper. “We need to finish the hunt so the servants will have meat tonight.”
She disliked the idea of depending on him, but, given the current state of the keep, Jared’s provision would be heartily welcomed.
He hoisted his prey bag and headed into the forest again.
“How did you begin hawking?” she asked.
Jared’s wide shoulders shrugged in an easy motion. The comfortable effortlessness he had in his body reminded her of Irma. It contrasted sharply with her nervous stiffness.
“I was raised by a hawker.”
“Raised? He was not your father?”
“Could have been. I do not know. He treated me well.”
“Were you an orphan?”
“Likely some would say that. ”
She slowed her pace, watching him, wanting to know more, to understand where this stranger she married came from. “I do not understand. Was your mother there?”
His body seemed to tense all at once. “My mother did not want me.”
She stopped. From his tall boots to his straight hair, she took in his towering form. Despite the issues between the two of them, he was a handsome, well-built man. He was kind to animals—cared passionately for his hawk—and had compassion on people.
“Your mother would have been proud of you, I’m sure.”
“My mother was too busy parading about in frilly jewels to have much regard for her bastard son.”
The words were spoken without guile, but bitterness came through in his voice all the same. Her heart inexplicably went out to him. She touched his forearm.
He flinched and stared down at her fingers. Her sapphire ring glittered and her skin was soft and white in contrast to his rough homespun garment. “My mother’s hands were well kept like yours.”
Her mouth rounded into an “oh.” Without overthinking it, she placed her hand firmly on his chest and gazed up at him. “Your mother should have been proud of you, Jared, even if she wasn’t.” The words fell out of her lips before she could stop them.
His hand topped hers and pressed it farther into his torso.
“You are"—she glanced upward at Aeliana—"good with birds.”
His shoulders relaxed by a small fraction. “I like the thrill of the hunt. A falconer and his bird develop a relationship that is different from that of having a dog or some other pet.”
It was a different side of him that somehow made him seem more real, more human. Not at all the dunderhead she had thought him to be when they were at the brothel or the brute she had witnessed at the church.
How odd to relate to a man in such a manner. Almost as a friend.
“I know many falconers lose their birds. I suppose a hawk is different from a dog because she can fly free at any time,” she said, trying to concentrate on the conversation and not the confusing jumble of emotions he made her feel.
Aeliana, Gwyneth noted, had perched on a limb above them. The hawk lifted into flight again when Jared began walking.
“One must make her realize that her life is better with you than without you.” Turning abruptly, he winked at her. Winked! “Not unlike a wife.”
She lifted her chin. “I do not wish to be trained.”
“Peace, wife. I was just beginning to enjoy the hunt.”
Trained? Courted? The man made her daft.
She wanted to grouse at him but knew that doing so would not win her the favor from him that she needed. If they could forge some sort of cordial relationship, then mayhap he would allow her to tend to her duties at the keep and she would be able to see about the ladies in t
he prison.
The morning fled as Jared told of how Aeliana had been with him her whole life and how they had bonded in an uncanny way. Once the conversation started, they shared a pleasant morning. He passionately shared information on hawk training. The tension between them eased and Gwyneth was reluctant to return to the keep.
She indicated the prey bag. “The hunt was productive this morning. ”
Jared’s chest puffed out. His body bent backward as he shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed up at the bird with unabashed admiration. “My Aeliana is a wonderful hunter. Never had a bird like her before.”
That he took such pride in his hawk intrigued Gwyneth.
“Is it possible for me to hold her as you do on your wrist?”
“Perhaps. I do not have another glove today but on the morrow I will bring one.”
Gwyneth smiled. This would be easier than she’d thought.
She would bend Jared to her will and he would help her attend to her people. She would gain Aeliana’s trust enough to be able to sneak out of the keep at night. If she were able to go about her duties, mayhap life would not be so bad after all. She would get to the prison and see Elizabeth and the others to safety.
Jared might be a problem, but she could work around him. As she did with all other men.
Chapter 21
She’d kissed him to get his attention and talk him into allowing her to speak! Of all the outrageous, conniving things.
Worse: It had worked.
He had received a missive from someone who knew something about Rafe’s green boots. He should be combing the town looking for ways to clear his name afore he was discovered, not kissing his wife and instructing her on the finer points of falconry. And certainly not talking about his mother.
Gwyneth had claimed that his mother should be proud of him. His chest ached at the thought. His mother cared about parties and gowns and jewels. Not about the child she’d given birth to.
Leaves crunched as they walked back toward the keep.
His new wife was making him daft. Her scent, her soft steps, the rustle of her skirt, all called to him. The consummation, disaster that it had been, did not count at all. And sleeping beside her last night—holding her, kissing her, combing her hair, touching her softly but not forcing himself on her—had been a test of extreme measure.
Defiant Page 19
