“That’s the trouble with fires, Rowena. If you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re almost certain to get burned.”
His mouth covered hers then, and Rowena could do nothing but endure his cruel touch. Where his kiss had been tender and patient before, it was savage and hurtful now. He thrust his tongue into her mouth boldly, shocking her with the sudden invasion. When she tugged at his hair, trying to force him away, he simply drew her arms over her head and pinned them to the bed with one large hand.
He left her mouth, his lips moving down her neck, exploring, lightly sucking and licking. Rowena gasped. Her body came alive, suddenly humming with awareness and sensation. She felt the coarse fabric of his tunic rub against her breasts and belly. The apex of her thighs began to ache with a longing she didn’t fully understand.
She squirmed beneath him, no longer trying to escape, just anxious, restless. His hand swept down across her breast, and she gasped. He cupped her firmly, his fingers framing her nipple. His face hovered over her breasts. She felt the hot brush of his breath and then the moisture of his tongue as he traced the outer edge of her nipple. It hardened, puckered and tingled. Rowena had never felt anything like it.
He closed his teeth carefully on her nipple and tugged until she moaned, arching her back, pressing herself more firmly against his touch. His lips parted, and he drew her deeply into his mouth. Rowena cried out. Hot sensation shot from her breast to the juncture of her thighs to intensify the burning there.
“Please, Dominic,” she mumbled, her head tossing from one side to the other.
The warm flutter of his lips moved down onto her abdomen, making her quiver and start. She needed him there, deep inside her, where the ache was the most acute. Why did he seem content to taste and stroke her skin, to memorize the feel of her, the texture and the heat?
His palm pressed down over her mound, and Rowena gasped. Her entire body shuddered. He chuckled against the satin-smooth flesh of her stomach. “Are you burning yet? Do you feel the fire?”
“Aye,” she cried without hesitation.
Rearing up, he stared into her face. His expression was contorted with tension and suppressed desire. Would he take her now? Would he end this torment for both of them and secure her future? She trembled as she waited for his next move.
With a harsh growl, he flipped her over onto her stomach. What was he doing? Could it be done in this position? Her confusion evaporated as his hands began to stroke. Once he began to touch her, all rational thought was driven from her mind. He ran his fingers along her spine. Tingles trailed in their wake and intensified the heat pulsing in her core. She felt empty and achy.
Then his hands were in her hair, brushing it aside to bare the nape of her neck. He pressed his lips against the sensitive skin there, warming her flesh with his breath. Rowena clutched at the coverlet beneath her. This was madness. Her senses were on fire.
She felt his weight lift then his hands were at her knees, guiding her legs apart and raising her hips. A sharp cry tore from her throat at the first stroke of his fingers against her swollen folds. His hoarse, tormented groan filled her ears as he touched her. His fingers slid smoothly, triggering tingles and spasms of pleasure.
“God’s blood, Rowena. You are so hot. So wet. Are you truly a virgin?”
She wasn’t insulted by his doubt, didn’t care what he thought as long as he continued to touch her. His finger found a spot so exquisitely sensitive it made her jerk and moan. He circled the little nub with a smooth, steady rhythm. She sobbed, overwhelmed by the need for something she didn’t understand. More, faster, more.
He slid away from the wonderful bud and focused on the opening to her passage. “Hell,” he whispered the curse as his fingers encountered her maidenhead.
Rowena sobbed again. “Dominic, please!” She arched her back, willing him to continue, but he pulled away and slipped his hand from between her thighs, leaving her empty and alone.
The bed shifted subtly and she knew he had left her. Rowena pressed her face into the pillow and cried. Her flesh still tingled, throbbing with unfulfilled desire, which was exactly what he’d wanted. He’d wanted her to understand the power of passion.
He’d been a masterful teacher.
* * * * *
Frigid water rapidly saturated Dominic’s braies as he stomped into the river. He didn’t stop until he was submerged to the waist, but it did no good. With an exasperated growl, he plunged his head beneath the current, but that didn’t cool his anger—or his desire.
He stood up and pushed his sodden hair out of his face. God save me from irrational females!
He should have known better. Women were seldom what they seemed. They lied and deceived. Honor was alien to them. Rowena was determined to make him her accomplice despite his solemn vow. What had or had not happened between the lady and her husband was none of his concern.
Poor William, Dominic thought with a gruff laugh. It would be the regent’s responsibility to sort through this entire mess and award the Pendragon holdings. Dominic didn’t envy his liege the task.
He waded back to shore and welcomed the cool night air. He tried to release the tension in his muscles and defuse the heat still simmering in his blood, but he could still see her satin skin and feel the incredibly soft texture beneath his fingers and lips. The fantasies he’d entertained while watching her couldn’t begin to compare with the reality of touching her.
A groan escaped him before he could completely squelch the image of his fingers sinking into her dusky core. He wouldn’t think about her. He wouldn’t think about how perfectly she fit in his embrace, how ready she’d been to abandon everything to their passion. He wouldn’t even consider how profoundly his body reacted to her inviting display.
Light, musical laughter dragged him from his memories. He searched the trees along the river, listening with the finely tuned senses of a warrior.
A flickering golden glow bounced among the branches then disappeared. Something brushed his cheek and he spun around. “Who goes there?”
Carefully creeping toward his sword, Dominic visually explored the shadows. He could feel a gaze upon him. He had felt something touch his cheek!
A hushed, husky voice reached his ears. He couldn’t understand the language, couldn’t determine if he heard words or singing.
Warm tingles spread across his chest and down his arms. But the night air was chill.
“Who are you? Where are you?” he whispered. “Show yourself.”
He heard laughter again. It surrounded him, like the swirling current of a summer breeze. He couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. It caressed his exposed skin and threaded through his hair, soothing him, relaxing him. The sound and the sensation drifted away, and Dominic knew he was alone.
Stunned for a moment, he shook his head, clearing the haze from his mind. “This accursed place has me talking to the shadows,” he muttered.
He tugged his tunic on over his soggy braies and strapped on his sword, comforted by the familiar weight.
Ludlow, the captain of the guards, was in the lower bailey when Dominic passed through the west tower. Ludlow was speaking with several of his men, so Dominic chose not to interrupt. He stood back for a moment and assessed the other man’s competency.
Tall and lanky, Ludlow possessed the craggy sort of face that made it hard to determine his age. Keen intelligence shone in his hazel eyes and put some of Dominic’s uncertainty to rest.
When Ludlow had finished giving instructions to his men, Dominic approached him with a casual greeting.
“How may I be of service, milord?” Ludlow’s gaze was just as assessing as Dominic’s had been.
Dominic came right to the point. “Is the threat from Edwin of Llangly real, or has Lady Rowena simply used it be contrary?”
Ludlow laughed, apparently amused by Dominic’s candor. “Lady Rowena needs no excuse for her contrariness. She can be quite difficult when she chooses. But the answer to your question is not a simple one. Ed
win of Llangly is more of a threat to Lady Rowena than to the Pendragon Castle, but she has not invented the threat.”
“I must take her to my liege. She could be gone a fortnight, perhaps more. Will this increase the threat? Is it possible that Sir Edwin will use the opportunity to lay siege to the castle?”
Ludlow shook his head. “Sir Edwin would only consider taking Pendragon by force if all of his other options have been exhausted. He is trying to prove a legal claim to the holdings, not wrest them from Lady Rowena.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Dominic considered the other man’s explanation.
“Besides, Sir Edwin is on his way to Windsor Castle. He left this morning.” Ludlow provided the information with an enigmatic smile.
“Are you certain? William told me nothing about summoning Edwin.”
“I don’t know that he was summoned. I only know he went. Nearly everyone in Llangly is kin to someone in Pendragon. Movement of the nobility never goes unnoticed.”
Dominic accepted the information with a nod.
Ludlow headed for the battlements then paused. “Sir Dominic, Lady Rowena is still very young. Her life has not been easy.”
“Meaning?”
“She is in dire need of a champion.”
Dominic smiled at the odd comment. “Why do you tell me this?”
“I have seen the way she looks at you. If you treat her kindly, you would be welcomed by the people of Pendragon.” Ludlow bowed and walked away.
It amazed Dominic that the people of Pendragon spoke of Rowena with such affection. To listen to the lady herself, one would think she was despised and feared, yet her people revered her. Her steward was unwavering in his loyalty. Thora supported her lady with uncommon protectiveness. And now Ludlow asked for understanding on her behalf.
Ezra sat on the bottom stair leading to the solar wing, idly scraping a whetstone along the edge of his sword.
“Has she come down or attempted to leave?” Dominic asked.
“Have not seen hide nor hair of the lady or her waiting woman. They’re up there. I’ve heard their voices from time to time, but there has been no trouble.”
“Good. Hopefully she’s realized the futility of running away. Are the men ready for the journey?”
“The men are always ready, Dominic, as you have made them.”
“Then we leave with the dawn.”
Chapter Five
Windsor Castle wasn’t at all what Rowena expected. Knowing it was a royal residence, she thought to find a grand, luxurious palace. The compound dominating the horizon was a stark, stone fortress, and Rowena couldn’t disguise her disappointment.
“It may not seem impressive at a glance, but when William of Normandy came to England, he ordered the construction of eleven castles. Each stronghold was within one day’s ride of the others. This allowed forces to reach any of the other locations with little notice,” Dominic explained.
Rowena felt her cheeks heat. She hadn’t realized her expression revealed her thoughts. “Then Windsor Castle is one of these fortresses?”
He nodded.
They had hardly spoken since they left the monastery. He remained polite and courteous, faithfully seeing to her needs and what little comfort he could supply, but he made certain they were never alone. Last night he’d insisted they sleep in a ring surrounding the fire pit, allowing no one any privacy.
She studied the thick curtain walls for a long moment. “Why are some of the towers round while others are square?” She didn’t care about castle construction. She simply wanted to prolong their conversation.
“It was learned in the Holy Land that round towers are stronger and offer a wider field of fire, so the wall will be completed with round towers.”
Before she could think of another question to retain his attention, he urged his horse forward to catch Ezra, who was riding in the lead.
Rowena sighed. At least he hadn’t demanded she stay cooped up in a “lady’s wagon”. Knowing the customary wagon would only slow them down, Dominic easily agreed when she insisted that she be allowed to ride her palfrey.
Ignoring her disappointment at his inattentiveness, Rowena lifted her face and enjoyed the warm caress of the late afternoon sun. The soft fabric of her wimple fluttered about her neck and shoulders, disturbed by a gentle breeze.
They arrived a short time later, but again Rowena found herself unimpressed. William Marshal was closeted with a group of advisors and couldn’t be disturbed. Dominic knew many of the servants by name and responded to the entire situation with casual familiarity.
He is the ward of William Marshal. Why would he not be comfortable at court?
Their horses were led off to the stables, and they were taken directly to the apartments they would occupy during their stay.
Though the outward appearance of Windsor Castle had been a disappointment for Rowena, the interior exceeded her expectations. The room designated for her use appeared slightly smaller than her bedchamber at home, but the furnishings were opulent. Rich brocades in red and gold dressed the high box bed. A large, fringed tapestry covered the wall opposite the fireplace.
Rowena moved toward the tall, narrow windows cut into the wall across from the door. Greenish glass panes had been installed to keep the chilly winds at bay. Fascinated by the luxury, Rowena reverently touched the cool glass. Pendragon Castle had stout, well-fitted shutters that could be secured with iron bars, but only a king could afford this extravagance.
“Lady Rowena.”
An odd hesitation in Thora’s tone drew Rowena’s attention. “What is it?”
“He arrived yesterday,” Thora announced.
“Who arrived yesterday?”
“Edwin.” She spoke the name as if it tasted foul. “He has already made his case to the regent. Thank God you can prove him wrong. Just think what would happened if Sir Dominic had not…”
Rowena didn’t hear the rest of Thora’s sentence. Fear and desperation leached the strength from her legs as she turned back to the window. She grasped the window frame, faint and unsteady.
It was not supposed to be like this.
She was supposed to expose Edwin’s evil before the regent heard his case.
If Edwin had already persuaded William Marshal, then what hope was left for her?
* * * * *
The boy king had left Windsor Castle three days before. Dominic was not at all disappointed to learn this fact. The frivolous life of a court follower had never appealed to him. He didn’t understand how Sir William survived in the midst of such turmoil and treachery. So many courtiers harbored hidden motivations and deceitful ambitions that Dominic made it a point to stay away.
Edwin of Llangly had arrived the day before, Dominic learned from a servant, but Edwin had not yet been granted an audience with the regent.
Dominic was sure William knew of their arrival, but Dominic was waiting for an invitation as well.
Glancing indifferently around the small room, he wondered what Rowena thought of Windsor Castle. The stark, defensible exterior had taken her by surprise. Did she find the rich luxuries distributed so freely within the chambers more to her liking?
A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. Why the lady’s opinion should matter to him, Dominic could not fathom. Her dilemma had nothing to do with him. He had fulfilled his obligation to William Marshal the moment he passed beyond the walls of Windsor Castle. What the regent did with her now was entirely up to him.
Dominic was still attempting to convince himself of this when he clasped arms with his liege lord some time later.
“You look well,” William said, sincerity clear in his intelligent eyes. “Come. Sit by the fire and tell me everything.”
Dominic smiled at the regent. His affection for William was complex. He had never thought of William as a father, but even as a child, Dominic had admired and respected him. The passing years had brought depth and maturity to their friendship. “My thanks, but I should look haggard and exasperated.” He took
the chair William offered.
“Why is that? Was the lady troublesome?”
The questions seemed innocent enough, but something in William’s expression made Dominic suspicious. “You knew she would give me hell, did you not?”
“I have heard tales of her obstinate nature, but I never doubted that you were equal to the task.” William sat across from Dominic and stared into the leaping flames.
Dominic took the silent moment to study his friend. William didn’t look well. He was still an imposing figure for a man in his seventies, but fatigue had deepened the grooves in his weathered face and stooped his once broad shoulders. Knowing that Sir William was far too proud to admit it even if he were ailing, Dominic said, “Well, she is finally here, as is her nemesis. Have you spoken with Sir Edwin, yet?”
“Nay. I wanted to talk with you first. What is your impression of Lady Pendragon?”
“In what respect?”
William snorted impatiently and shifted his weight in the tall-backed chair. His penetrating gaze came back to Dominic. “I’ve never known you to be evasive. Was she that disruptive? Is she truly the Shrew of Pendragon Castle?”
Dominic had heard the title bandied about before their departure. “I didn’t find Lady Rowena shrewish, and her people seem to like and respect her. I wonder if the title is part of Edwin’s campaign to take her holdings?”
“It’s possible. His strategy is strange at best.” Their gazes locked. “Is she comely?”
Dominic’s gut twisted as his passing suspicions were confirmed. William knew he desired holdings of his own and set before him a temptation beyond imagining. It was almost painful to hope that such a thing could come to pass. “She seems almost unaware of it, but aye. She is lovely.”
“Her husband has been dead since autumn. How did you find the castle?”
“Impressive. The manor was well run, the keep clean, the people hearty.”
“All of that can be attributed to a well-trained steward,” William said.
“Perhaps.”
Tears of the Dragon Page 8
