by Maura Seger
Reminding himself sharply that the girl was ill because of his thoughtlessness, he tucked the furs firmly around her, blocking out all but her lovely face and the tumult of silken hair. When the old woman entered carrying a cup of broth, he was seated beside the bed with one of Roanna's small hands clasped in his.
"Try to get as much of this down her as you can, my lord. 'Tis the best I know for fever."
Nodding, Colin eased an arm around Roanna's shoulders and gently lifted her. With the woman's help, he managed to get a fair amount of the medicine into her. Their patient protested faintly, probably because with her swollen throat it was painful to swallow. But Colin persevered until the cup was empty.
Looking down at the small figure on the bed, the old woman tut-tutted softly. I've seen this sickness before. Strong men fall to it but for a girl. . ."
"She's going to recover," Colin insisted tightly. "Whatever it takes."
The old woman was not about to contradict her lord, but she privately thought the lass's chances were slim. Shaking her head, she left the chamber glad that the responsibility was not her own.
In the hours that followed, Colin was forced to consider that the old woman might be right Roanna's fever worsened steadily. She twisted violently on the bed, lost in her own distorted dreams. Several times he had to restrain her forcibly from tossing off the covers. There was some small satisfaction in the fact that she seemed to respond to his touch and the sound of his voice, but as the night lengthened and she showed no sign of improvement he realized desperate measures would have to be taken.
Near the main well behind the great hall there was a deep pit dug into the ground. At its bottom, wrapped in multiple layers of straw and burlap, lay slabs of ice preserved from the winter. Dispatching several strong men to pull one up, he set the serving women to scouring a large trough. When the ice was smashed into tiny chunks with hammers and picks, cool spring water was poured over it
Shutting the chamber door firmly behind the last of the wide-eyed servants, Colin lifted Roanna from the bed. He ignored her indistinct protest and determinedly lowered her into the bath.
Over and over he cupped water into his big hands and ran it gently over her dry, heat-infested body. Over and over he spoke to her reassuringly, telling her she would get better, not to be frightened, to trust him and let him do what was necessary.
Long after it had begun, he dared to hope his desperate effort was having some effect. Roanna lay quietly in his arms, her silken skin gleaming with diamond droplets, her eyes closed and her lips softly parted. Her breathing seemed easier and the muscular tension associated with fever had left her limbs. She rested languidly against him, her head cradled by his shoulder almost as though they had just made love.
With her skin now so cool from the bath, it was impossible for Colin to tell whether the fever was abating. Taking a chance that such was the case, he lifted her from the water and gently toweled her dry. Slipped back into the bed, she was covered snugly before he sat down beside her to continue his long vigil.
Too quickly, Colin realized that his treatment had worked but had brought with it another danger. Far from being too hot, Roanna was now shivering with cold. More blankets piled on top of her did no good. She continued to tremble uncontrollably.
Colin stared down at her hesitantly for a long moment before finally accepting what must be done. Stripping off his sandals and the tunic that had become wet from her bath, he slid into the bed beside Roanna. Her slim, petal-soft body fit perfectly against his lean hardness. With a pained sigh, he reconciled himself to an acutely uncomfortable night
Cradled against him, taking warmth from his body, Roanna at last slipped into restful sleep. Colin had to envy her blissful unawareness as he fought a relentless battle with his own desires. How easy it would be to take advantage of her helplessness. How tempted he was to stroke and caress and taste the feminine perfection next to him until all thought of honor vanished in the firestorm of need.
But the mere thought of taking a woman who could not share the pleasure disgusted him. Whatever his body might wish, his mind overruled it sharply. Comfort and protection he would give her, but nothing else.
Shortly before dawn, Colin managed at last to fall asleep. He lay on his back with Roanna's head nestled into his arms and one slim hand at rest over his taut abdomen. In sleep, their legs entwined and their bodies moved even closer, until they were knit together as intimately as sated lovers.
Roanna murmured contentedly, her breath teasing the burnished hairs of his chest She was dimly aware of an extraordinary sense of well-being. Not even when she was a child secure in her brother's love had she known such peace. Her eyelids fluttered as she smiled and snuggled even closer.
Turning slightly, her lips brushed a velvety hardness that seemed underlaid by iron. Puzzled, she moved her mouth again, chasing the sensation.
Deeply asleep but by no means impervious to such a caress, Colin moaned. He rolled over, his hand gently cupping her breast The delightful sensation that darted through her penetrated even the haze of Roanna's slumber. She woke with a jerk.
"W-what. . . who? .. . Oooh!"
"Mmmm," Colin muttered groggily. Softness engulfed him. He savored the sweet scent of perfumed skin, the delight of ripe curves and slender limbs, the provocative hardening of her nipple beneath his fingers. Instinctively, he drew her closer, his head unerringly finding the silken hollow between her breasts even as his eyes remained closed.
Roanna froze in shock.What was happening to her? How had she ended up naked in bed with her brash, arrogant English captor? Had he dishonored her? Horror at the thought that she might have been so taken advantage of stiffened every muscle in resistance. Even if the damage was already done, she was damned if she would let him take his pleasure of her again.
"Stop it! Don't you dare! You . . . you swine! Cur! Leavings of a worm! Let me go!"
Colin frowned. Something had gone wrong with his marvelous dream. The delicious bundle of feminity in his arms had turned into a clawing, snarling cat. He opened his eyes warily, only to be struck by the full impact of exactly where he was and what he was doing.
"What the hell? . .. Oh . . . Roanna .. ."
"Yes, Roanna! Your so-called hostage! Whom you're supposed to treat honorably! And instead you . . . you . . ." Words failed her. Hushing, painfully, she hid her face.
Beating down a treacherous desire to laugh with sheer relief at her recovered spirit Colin thoughtfully finished the sentence for her. "And instead I kept you warm."
"W-warm?. . ." Very reluctantly, Roanna looked up at him through thick, golden lashes. Surely she misunderstood? Her flush deepened as Colin climbed matter-of-factly out of bed. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking away, although the sight of his unclothed maleness sent shock waves rippling through her.
Roanna had spent her fife surrounded by supremely fit men who were often seen in various stages of undress. But nothing had prepared her for Colin. From the top of his burnished head down broad shoulders, sculpted arms and torso, slim hips, and long, corded legs, he was magnificently male
Only a livid scar running the width of his massive chest marred the perfection of his virile beauty. As he turned to pull on his tunic, her gaze lingered appreciatively on the taut line of his buttocks. A wanton desire to reach out and touch him proved almost impossible to overcome.
"You took a fever," he explained calmly when he was dressed "I found you in the cell after the weather turned cold. An ice bath got your temperature down, but afterward you were racked by chills no amount of blankets could ease. You didn't quiet down and sleep peacefully until I held you."
A rueful gleam appeared deep within his silvery eyes. "At least you had no difficulty sleeping. I, on the other hand, spent a rather restless night"
Roanna was perversely glad to hear it Any suggestion that she had lain naked in his arms without the least effect would have offended her deeply. She was about to suggest that he had deserved his dis
comfort when Colin forestalled her.
His expression had changed as he surveyed the still-pale, fragile-looking girl. He was remembering how she had come to be so ill, and berated himself yet again for being so careless with her well-being.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he said quietly, "I am very sorry about what happened. I never meant for you to be more than slightly discomfited by being in the cell. Had I known you were so delicate . . ."
"I am not delicate!" Roanna flared, outraged by the mere suggestion. Relenting a bit she realized his apology stemmed from genuine remorse. Much as she would have liked to see him suffer for his rough treatment of her, she could not allow him to take the blame for something that was in no way his fault
"It's just that I had been ill for a while and should not have gone out yesterday. I thought I was completely recovered, but now it seems that wasn't the case." Reluctantly, she admitted, "I probably would have gotten sick again no matter where I was."
Colin looked at her for what seemed like a long time before he murmured, "You are very generous. I could have gone on thinking it was my fault"
"Well, it wasn't so stop worrying about it"
"I intend to," he agreed, recovering what she had already come to think of as his usual self-assurance. "However, I shall not forget your foolishness in going out too soon. Perhaps your kin have no control over you, but here things will be different" Ominously, he added, "You will do exactly as you are told, including staying in this bed until I say you may leave it"
A dozen angry responses sprang to mind, but for once in her life she had the sense to keep silent Common sense warned that Colin Algerson was not a man to push very far. Her brother and sister-in-law, who loved her, were susceptible to her whims. But this man .. .
Biting her lip, Roanna realized that she had come around once again to wondering what it would be like to be loved by him. Damn him! He had no right to slip into her very thoughts and make a mockery of her self-control.
Glaring at him, she became aware of a certain quiet watchfulness in his manner. He was waiting for her to make some outburst, which would provide him with an excuse to enforce his authority over her. Refusing to give him the opportunity, Roanna kept stubbornly silent
Colin frowned, then shrugged. She was even more willful than he had thought, but he couldn't find it in him to condemn such spirit With his opinion of Norman women undergoing a rapid reevaluation, he contented himself with a grim reminder.
"Don't forget what I said. Try to move out of that bed and I guarantee your exquisite bottom will be sore for a week!"
He was gone before Roanna could do more than snarl at the blatant reminder of how familiar he now was with her body.
The next few days passed very slowly. By the simple expedient of not providing her with any clothes, Colin made sure his orders were obeyed. Confined to the guest chamber, allowed to rise only long enough for carefully supervised baths during which half a dozen braziers were kept lighted despite the return of summer temperatures, Roanna quickly learned the true meaning of boredom.
She slept as much as possible and ate the delicious meals provided to her, but there were still long hours of the day during which she tossed restlessly under the eye of one or the other serving women set to guard her.
Finally taking pity on her, they suggested all manner of diversions. But Roanna had no fondness for the usual pastimes of a noble lady. She despised needlework, had a poor hand at sketching, and thought her inept assaults on the lute or harp should not be inflicted even on an enemy.
The old woman who nursed her finally allowed her to help mix medicinal herbs. Since proportions had to be meticulously measured, she found some distraction in this task. But it was completed too soon, leaving her once more at loose ends.
On the third day, Colin at last deigned to visit, his arrival brought a rush of male virality into what had been a purely feminine domain. Roanna had to force the smile from her lips by reminding herself that he was the cause of all her problems.
As she barely acknowledged his presence, the serving women scurried away, after making sure their lord was comfortably seated and did not require ale or other refreshment
Crouched in the center of the bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, Roanna looked him over warily. Sunlight filtering through the windows burnished his shoulder-length hair. The bronzed skin stretched tautly over his lean, hard body shone with health. Sharp lines were cut into his face, reminding her that though he was still a young man he carried heavy responsibilities. But his eyes betrayed not a shadow of self-doubt as he returned her gaze in full measure.
Clad in a sweat-stained tunic that left his powerful arms and legs bare, he had obviously been working hard. The wide leather belt strapped around his slim waist held a longsword. On the other side, a dagger lay close at hand. She wondered if he had come from the training field, but resisted the urge to ask.
Instead, she demanded coolly, "Have you dared to get in touch with my brother yet?"
Colin took his time answering. He was content to savor the sight of beauty that had haunted his every waking thought and made his dreams endurance contests. She was even lovelier than the image indelibly burned into his brain. The brief smile he had glimpsed in those remarkable eyes made him long to soothe and please her. Wryly he reflected that a man would put up with a great deal to win this one's favor.
His bland response gave no hint of the turmoil of his thoughts. "It took a while to arrange safe conduct for my messenger, but your brother now knows your whereabouts and my demands."
Some of Roanna's bravado faded. Her shame at the worry she was causing her family had not eased. "W-what did you tell him?"
"That you will be released when my cousin is safely returned, and that in the meantime you will not be harmed." More gently, he added, "I told your brother the truth, Roanna. You need not fear you will be mistreated"
Actually, the thought had not occurred to her. Even brief exposure to Colin was enough to assure her of his honor. However much he might hate the Normans for what they had done to his country, he showed no tendency to take those feelings out on her.
Unwilling to reveal how much faith she had in him, she muttered, "There are all sorts of ways of mistreating people. You've left me shut up in here for days with nothing to do!"
The accusation, so sincerely uttered, surprised Colin. The serving women had orders to tell him if Roanna refused to eat or if she showed any signs of becoming ill again. When they said nothing, he presumed that all was going well. But now it seemed she had not enjoyed her leisure.
"But you had only to ask if you wanted something, and it would have been provided."
"Would it?" Roanna scorned. "So far I have been offered pretty pieces of needlework, drawing paper, and musical instruments, the refuges of women who have nothing of worth to offer. Meanwhile, I will wager that everyone else on this demesne is working hard to prepare for winter. Do you have any idea how useless I feel?"
"I don't understand. . . Are you saying you think I should put you to work?"
"Of course! Anything would be better than sitting around here all day feeling about as lively as an effigy carved on a sarcophagus."
Colin shook his head, more in bewilderment than rejection. "But you are a lady. I cannot work you like some ordinary prisoner."
"I am hardly asking to be put out in the fields! I just want something useful to do."
In her anxiousness to convince him, Roanna sat up straighter in the bed. The sheet slipped slightly, baring her smooth shoulders against which golden curls lay temptingly. Colin stifled a groan. He could think of something extremely useful for her to do, but doubted she would view the suggestion kindly.
Though she had come a long way since his first impression of her as a weak, fearful woman, he could not yet credit the sincerity of her plea. Suspiciously, he suggested, "This desire to work wouldn't have anything to do with some idea of escape, would it?"
Shock widened Roanna's eyes. Was he se
riously suggesting she didn't understand the etiquette of being a hostage?
"I am perfectly aware of my position here," she informed him coldly. "You refrain from harming me and in return I don't make trouble. Will your cousin, I wonder, behave as well?"
"I doubt it," Colin admitted, relenting slightly. "He's never behaved well in his life." "Then why are you trying to free him?" "Because he is my kinsman, sworn to my service. I have no choice but to protect him. But when he gets home . . ."
Roanna nodded understandingly. "He may wish he was still a captive."
"It doesn't matter what he wishes," Coin said grimly. "He will pay for his foolishness. There are enough problems with the Normans without provoking more."
Roanna did not want to talk about the conflicts between their two peoples. Deftly, she turned the subject back to the matter at hand. "Now, about what I can do . . ."
Colin sighed. "I'm sure your skills are extensive."
Ignoring the sarcasm, she informed him, "I'm very good at preserving foods, spinning, dying, and weaving. I can read and do accounts and ...."
His rugged face abruptly brightened. "You do accounts?"
Apprehensively, Roanna nodded.
"That's marvelous! I can manage fine with letters, but numbers are always a struggle. More than one good priest gave up on teaching me"
"I suppose you don't have to do them very often . . ." Roanna ventured, only to have her last hope dashed.
"They've really piled up. I was dreading having to spend the whole winter on them. But since you're here and want to help . . ."
"Oh ... yes ... I'd be glad to .... "
Jumping up, Colin grinned at her, an action which stripped years from him and gave her a startling glimpse of the boy this hard warrior chieftain had once been. "We can get started right away. Come on."
"Uh ... I can't... my clothes . . ."
A dull flush suffused his lean cheeks. "I forgot I'll have the serving women bring you something." He hesitated before explaining, "They won't be like your clothes. Our styles are different."
