An Outlaw's Honor

by TERRI BRISBIN

  So far, though, she had not mentioned what she would actually offer as part of this bargain, for all the rest was already in his control. Leaning down until their mouths were a scant inch apart, he whispered, “And what do you offer in return, if I accept and I win?”

  His direct words coming during such a candid conversation should have been expected, and yet there were not. She drew back as far as his hold would allow. Instead of panic or indecision, she was calm and her gaze clear as she now met his.

  “My offer to you is this,” she said. “I will come willingly to your bed—”

  “A given,” he replied. A lie he knew, but it mattered not. “Any time, any place, in whatever manner I wish?”

  “Aye.”

  She swallowed then, trying to make the words come out of her dry, frightened mouth. His body was hot and hard against her as she tried to think about what his words meant. His hands held her close but did not hurt or frighten her. Nay, ’twas not his body that did that. ’Twas the intensity of his desire that filled his every word and glance.

  “Truly?”

  Did he wish to bed her in the light of day as well as the dark of night? Where else but the bedchamber could he mean? Surely, not outside? And in what manner could he mean than lying together as men and women did? She cursed her ignorance in those matters. Her head shook even as she gave her consent. “Aye.”

  “So, what do you offer that I do not have, Annora?” His voice surrounded her and heated her from within. “If, when, I win, you will belong to me in all ways that matter. To do with or to dispose of how I please.” He let those words settle in for a moment. “So, what of value do you offer me personally?”

  “I will aid you in defeating le Govic however I can.”

  “Since you cannot pick up a lance and ride at my side, what are you proposing?” He released her then and stepped back. Her body noticed the loss of his warmth immediately. “Do you think that a traitor is also a cheater?”

  “Nay!” She reached out and touched his sleeve to stop his retreat. “I but meant that I would share with you anything I learn about my father and le Govic’s plans. I suspect they, even if not traitors, have no compunction about cheating.”

  “I could already have someone working close to le Govic, informing me about such things.”

  “Do you plan to challenge every offer I make?” She let out her exasperation in a breath.

  “Do you plan to offer something I do not have at my disposal in exchange for agreeing to your terms?” he asked her, repeating her words and tone. “I think we both realize that once the deed is done, when I win and you are mine by the king’s decree and consent, I do not have to make any concessions to you at all.”

  She gasped at his boldness and yet, she could not deny the truth of his words. She would be at his mercy. She met his eyes then and realized that she did not doubt he had mercy within his soul, while she knew to a certainty that le Govic had none.

  “What do you offer me, Lady Annora?”

  The silence grew between them. The sounds of the camp settling down for the night pierced into their own small peace. Then, even though she was sure he already knew what she would offer, she spoke the words.

  “In addition to any knowledge or news I hear?”

  He nodded.

  “Me. I offer myself to you. Whenever you wish. Now, if you’d like.”

  Annora could not look directly at him. Her palms sweated, and a nervous trickle slid down her spine. Rubbing her hands against her gown, her thighs trembled in response. Her body felt strange—awake and alarmed at the same time. Anticipation filled her as she waited for his answer. For his...attentions. From the way he’d behaved since their first meeting, she had little doubt that he would have his way with her within moments of accepting her offer.

  “Fine, my lady. I accept your offer,” he said, his voice even deeper than its usual tone. “Now...”

  Annora held her breath as she waited for his command. Would he take her on the pallet? Would it be now? Or as le Govic had tried from behind? The strangest, most unbelievable thing was that she did not fear Thomas doing that, doing this, with him. Indeed, and shamefully, she admitted to herself, she wanted to know the feel of him. The feel of his flesh in her palm. The feel of his hand on her body, holding her breast without the layers of gown and chemise between them.

  “Get on the pallet.”

  Annora turned and walked to the corner where the pallet was. For a temporary bed in a temporary tent, it looked more than comfortable with its piles of pillows and furs and blankets. ’Twas a king’s tent, so such amenities were to be expected. Once she reached the bedding, she stopped and turned to face Thomas, awaiting his next command. ’Twas something she must accustom herself to if he was to be her master after he won.

  “Get on the pallet, Annora,” he repeated in a soft voice.

  Should she disrobe first? Did he wish her to remain clothed for this encounter? He nodded his head towards the pallet, so she knelt on it and then sat.

  “Your side is against the wall of the tent,” he explained as he approached.

  She slid over, pushing the blankets out of her way.

  “Lie down.”

  No matter how calmly he spoke, it did nothing to ease her worries now. Would he take her virtue as the price of sealing their bargain? Could she even believe he would honor their agreement once he won? Should she trust the word of a traitor? She would learn soon enough. She eased back, sliding one of the pillows behind her head as she did.

  “Now, go to sleep,” he said as he tossed her cloak to her.

  “I do not understand,” she said. Sitting up, she shook her head. “Have you changed your decision about our arrangement, then?”

  “Nay, lady, I have not.”

  “Then? Will you not take what I offer you?”

  The man lifted his head and stared at the top of the tent, his lips moving, but few sounds escaped. She heard the whispered words calling on the Almighty. He was praying?

  She waited on the pallet in respectful silence as he finished, but the words he uttered when he opened his eyes to look at her did not sound like a prayer at all. They sounded like a curse instead. Foul words that no lady, and most men, would not say. But he did. She winced at the awful sound of them.

  And he gazed directly at her as he did.

  “Annora, lie down and get some rest,” he said. “The morn will come soon enough, and you must be ready to sneak back into the keep if we hope to hide this little escapade and our arrangement from your father’s view.”

  “Truly?”

  He’d confounded her once more. She did not doubt that he desired her, for she had seen his flesh rise beneath his breeches when she’d made the offer to him. It pressed against the fabric with every word he’d spoken about having her. Even now as she glanced there once again, it remained—

  “Annora! Stop staring at my prick!”

  First, she covered her eyes, and then she covered her mouth. Never in her life had she behaved in such an indecent manner. And yet, so far in one day at this tournament, she had recklessly kissed a man and let him fondle her, spied on an intimate encounter and seen his...prick, and offered herself and her virtue to a man who had been trying to take it every time they’d met. She stared now at that very same erect flesh right there in front of her.

  When she tried to look away and not stare again at the growing size of it, he did the most unexpected thing—he laughed. Oh, but she loved the sound of his laughter. Its deep tones permeated her entire body and warmed her soul. He laughed fully and without reserve, like a man who’d faced death and come out with a new appreciation of life. And hadn’t he done just that? Annora could not help but drop her hands from their futile attempt to shield her gaze and laugh with him.

  Chapter Ten

  Good God, she was amazing to watch.

  When she should have been quaking in terror at the thought of giving up the only thing she could rightfu
lly claim as her own to a man like him, she sat—on his bed—laughing with full abandon. Then, he caught her staring and they both saw the result of that inquisitive gaze. She continued to look at him, and he felt his cock standing more with each moment she did.

  Yet watching her laugh now for the first time in his presence, he realized, Thomas just wanted to drink in the sight and sound of it. Which could only lead to trouble for both of them. He’d agreed to her bargain, but he could not reconcile taking her virtue as part of that. The tiny remnant of his honorable self left intact, after he’d lost most of himself in the process of being a traitor and the punishing deprivation that he’d faced, could simply not allow him to take it..

  She dragged her the back of her hand across her eyes then, her laughter bringing tears to her eyes as his laughter had and smiled. “I will seek my rest now.”

  Sliding back down onto the pillows and arranging her cloak to cover her, Annora smiled once more and he regretted every bit of control he had. After she tugged more furs and blankets over her, Thomas watched her as she settled, turning on her side to face the side of the tent next to the pallet. He’d thought her finally asleep when she spoke.

  “Where will you sleep?” Annora leaned up on her elbows and looked at him over the pile of bedcovers.

  “I doubt I will.”

  “Do you not need your rest for the battles to come?”

  “I am touched by your concern, my lady.” He nodded and turned away, seeking out the chair that was the farthest from the pallet. “When my body requires it, I have been known to find sleep anywhere. Even a chair.” Thomas sat down and put his feet up on the nearby stool. Then, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  “Very well,” she said.

  He did not open his eyes to see if she lay back down, for the noise she made as she did was clear. Soon, only the sound of her soft, even breathing filled the tent. Listening to her, he thought on her offer and her seeming indignation when he did not take her as she’d thought he would.

  The rhythmic rise and fall of her breaths as they echoed around him calmed him. So much needed yet to be done. Final practices with his horse and final preparations to make. Two other challenges before he faced le Govic on behalf of his king. As he had in the past, Thomas concentrated on only the next thing he must accomplish. He never allowed himself to think too far ahead once his overall goal was established. Each step deserved his complete attention. Overthinking was his enemy.

  The sounds of the camp rousing to life for another day filled with the fighting and drinking and wenching of those here for the tournament stirred him. When he’d fallen asleep, he knew not. Wiping his hands over his eyes, Thomas stretched and rose.

  “Come, Annora. We must get you back inside before you can be seen.” Glancing over, he found that the pallet was empty. The tent was empty, save for him.

  Annora was gone.

  Luck or the Almighty was finally on her side.

  Annora managed to make it out of the tent, away from Thomas, away from any servants and back to the gate of the town before dawn’s light fully illuminated the sky and the camp. Scurrying with her hood up and her head down, she entered the keep and found her way to the small chamber assigned to her. Margaret slept on her pallet in the corner, though from her appearance, it would seem she did not rest well. The girl was dressed, with even her shoes in place, and lay on her crumpled cloak. As Annora closed the door behind her, the maid woke.

  “My lady! I searched for you everywhere,” Margaret said. “I thought mayhap you attended to your personal needs, but the garderobes were empty, as were the corridors.”

  “Did you send for my father or alert anyone else?” Annora untied her cloak and let it drop on the bed. “Does anyone else know I left this chamber?” When the maid did not answer, Annora turned to her. “’Tis important, Margaret. Did you speak to anyone else about this?”

  But Margaret was staring at Annora’s neck instead of speaking. The bruises must look as bad as they felt this morning. She sighed.

  “My lady! Who did that to you?” Margaret whispered. “Did your father...beat you so?”

  Annora decided to let that lie stand for now. Before she could say more, a loud knock interrupted them. Margaret went to open it, and Annora took advantage of that to readjust the edge of her gown and to tug her braid over her shoulder to cover the handprint.

  “My lady.” Annora looked up to find her father’s servant there. “Your father sent me to bring you to his tent.”

  “I have only just risen, as the sun has,” she said. Smiling at the man, she tried to gain more time. “I must wash and dress properly before I can leave this chamber or keep.”

  “My lady, he sent us,” the man pointed to three others she’d not seen at first glance, “to bring your trunks and belongings over to the camp. He wishes you at his side and to stay there for the rest of the tournament.”

  “But the baron invited me to stay here,” she explained. “Surely, my father would not turn down the baron’s hospitality?”

  “My lady, I am sent to bring you and your belongings to his tent. We will wait out here until you are ready.” The man stepped back into the corridor, and Margaret would have closed the door but for his raised hand against it. “My lady?”

  “What is it now? We will prepare as quickly as possible.” The man did not reply but tilted his head in an effort to have her approach. Annora did, understanding he had something else, something more private to say.

  “Your father is in a foul mood and filled with impatience.” He paused and lowered his voice once more. “I would not dawdle or delay in readying yourself and your maid to answer his call.”

  Annora nodded and closed the door. What had caused her father’s temper to flare? Did he know she’d been in the camp overnight? That she had encountered his champion? Or worse, that Thomas had intervened? Had le Govic truly had his permission to avail himself of her favors, so now her father was angry that she’d not given in to him?

  It took only a short while to prepare herself. The guard’s words and manner alarmed her, and she rushed Margaret to pack. Soon, she followed her father’s men down through the keep, the town and out the gate that led to the campground.

  The fields were more crowded now, as hundreds had arrived for the tournament. The excitement had grown as it became known that several of the knights who would fight were undefeated in battle. That seemed to bring out even additional challenges and more people to watch to see if those knights would fall this time.

  Far off into the distance away from the town’s walls, tents of all colors and sizes covered the fields like wildflowers in the spring. The traffic on the road, both to and from the town, moved slowly now as many made their way to the stands to watch the jousts. Well-dressed and well-accompanied ladies with their entourages of admirers and servants and kin, followed by town folk and always the merchants who sought to make a living, filled the paths off the road to the lines and lines of tents. Though they’d hurried along the way, her father’s greeting was less than cordial when they did arrive.

  “Why did you not heed my call, Annora?” he asked. His expression was a mix of sternness and anger, but the calm of his voice frightened her more. She was lowering into a curtsy when Sir Laurence moved in the shadows, distracting her. “Her willfulness has never pleased me, le Govic. ’Tis something you will have to attend to when she is in your care if it bothers you as much as it does me.”

  Annora shivered as she lowered herself then. Her father spoke as though it was accomplished already and did not depend on any joust yet to be called.

  “Father, I pray you, forgive me for my tardiness,” she said, bowing her head. “The crowds slowed us as we left the town.”

  Annora closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for the blow to land, for her father’s methods were known to her. When it came not, she inhaled before looking up. He reached over and moved her braid.

&n
bsp; “I do not want you marked so,” he said. “Too many prying eyes. Too many who would ask questions here.” Suddenly the bruises on her neck ached as her father stared at them. “Le Govic, was that not my order to you?”

  “Aye, my lord, it was.” The knight came closer and stood at her father’s side. The violent gleam in his eyes frightened her. “But she did not obey me.”

  “You will have plenty of time to correct her after the tournament. For now, keep your distance.”

  “Aye, my lord.” Le Govic nodded and then gave her a look that promised when the time came, he would do exactly what he wanted to her.

  If that time came, she prayed. Annora shuddered again before looking back at her father.

  “What did you do after Brisbois interfered?” Stunned by the admission included in her father’s words, Annora could not speak. “What did you do, Annora?”

  “I ran back to the keep,” she lied. “I got back inside the walls just after the curfew was called.”

  “Well, you will remain here with me for the rest of the tournament. I am having another tent set for your use. Set her trunks there for now,” he ordered his guard. “Get her dressed more appropriately for the coming jousts,” he said, directing that order to her maid. “Her champion has been challenged this day, and she must cheer him on in the stands.”

  Her father walked away to speak to the man who would defend his honor, and her fear was such that she almost missed a small interaction between the two men. When her father began speaking in low tones to le Govic, the knight turned and faced her father with his other side. ’Twas not to block her from seeing their conversation, for it put them in a position where she could see their expressions clearly. She did not know why it struck her as strange, but it did.

  “Bring her when she is prepared,” her father said to the guard as he and le Govic left.