The Warrior's Runaway Wife

by Denise Lynn

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then feel free to go about doing it.’

  He stepped away from the barrel. ‘I forgot the soap.’

  He retrieved a chunk from a small chest against the wall and returned to get it wet before rubbing it against her scalp.

  ‘Elrik! Stop it.’ She snatched the soap away and dropped it in the water. Reaching up to feel the mass of soap on the back of her head, she groaned. ‘You have no idea how long it will take to rinse that out.’

  His lips twitched. Actually, he was well aware of how long it would take. That had been the whole idea. They had this day left to them and he was going to make the most of it. Even if it meant acting the fool.

  He cupped a hand to scoop up water and work it through the thick soap, repeating the process until the lather was thin enough to work through the length of her hair. Once satisfied the long thick rope of hair was clean, he used his fingertips to massage tiny circles against her scalp.

  When she sighed, relaxing into his touch, he worked the tightness from the back of her neck and shoulders.

  Again, using the goblet, he took his time rinsing her hair before fishing around for the soap.

  She looked about the cabin. ‘Is there a rag or wash cloth?’

  He ignored her question, not wanting anything between his touch and her skin. Elrik ran his soapy hands over her back before pressing his fingertips down, then back up the length of her spine.

  Avelyn arched her back beneath his touch, moaning.

  Moving to the side of the barrel, he lifted her arm.

  ‘You do know I can do this myself?’

  ‘And what fun would that be?’ he asked while soaping each of her fingers.

  She leaned back against the barrel, her head tipped back against the rim. ‘Who am I to deny you your fun?’

  Running his hands slowly up her arms, he laughed softly. ‘You couldn’t stop me if you tried.’

  She only nodded in response.

  He went to the other side and repeated his actions with her other arm, set on memorising every inch of her body with his hands and fingers.

  Stepping back, he debated...then tapped her knee. ‘Lift your leg.’

  It took a little work in the confines of the barrel, but she managed to prop her leg up on the rim.

  He started with her foot, noting her frown as she twitched beneath his touch and moved quickly up her ankle and calf. He slowed his hands at her knee, making certain the soft skin behind was well washed.

  Her frown relaxed and her fingers gripping the sides of the barrel made him smile. She might be sitting there quietly as if nothing was out of sorts, but he knew she found this leisurely bath anything but relaxing or soothing.

  With both hands, he stroked and kneaded his way up her thigh, then slipped a hand up to glide over the curve of her hip.

  He tapped her other knee. ‘This one.’

  He repeated the same process and by the time he’d finished, she was trembling and his heart thudded as he bent her leg to put it back down into the barrel.

  Working the soap between his hands, he stood in front of her and stared down. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, nipples peaked and he could see the pulse tapping a steady beat beneath the skin of her neck. The erection pushing against the inside of his braies and the pounding of his heart inside his chest meant he wasn’t any calmer than she.

  He wondered who would call an end to this play first. Hopefully, neither of them. There was no way of knowing if they would ever have such a carefree time again. Why did that knowledge suddenly make his chest ache as if he’d lost something important to him?

  He leaned over and ran his hands over her shoulders, then across her collar bone before sliding his palms slowly lower.

  Avelyn’s eyes opened. She held his gaze a moment, then frowned. Grasping his wrist, she asked, ‘What is wrong?’

  ‘Wrong?’ He palmed a breast and teased the nipple with his thumb. ‘Nothing is wrong. I am but bathing my wife.’

  ‘There is no shimmer in your gaze. It is as if you are sad.’ She sat up to stroke his cheek. ‘You look at me as if you’ll never see me again.’

  ‘Don’t be so fanciful.’ He turned his head away from her touch. ‘You are seeing things that aren’t there.’

  ‘Elrik, please. If you have plans to set me aside soon, tell me now. Let me savour what time is left to me without the burden of worrying when that time will come.’

  He cursed beneath his breath and slid his hands beneath her arms to pull her up from the stool. Holding her close to his chest, he ignored the water pouring on to the floor. ‘Avelyn, cease this worrying about being set aside. I will never do such a thing. I swear to you, while I have breath in my body, I will never forsake you.’

  She clung to his shoulders. ‘Then tell me what is wrong.’

  The tremor in her voice made his stomach clench. How had she learned to discern his moods so quickly? ‘We make landfall tomorrow. I do not know if, or when, we will ever be able to again share the carefree time we’ve had these last few days.’

  She sighed. ‘But we still have today and tonight?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then why are we wasting such precious time with a bath?’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Avelyn reached out in her sleep to find nothing but an empty space where her husband should have been. She came fully awake with a start, terrified that she’d slept through his leaving and sat up, calling, ‘Elrik?’

  She heard heavily booted footsteps cross the floor of the cabin, the tell-tale jingle of spurs and the clinking of chainmail. ‘Here.’

  The cabin was bathed in semi-darkness, the only light a small candle in the lantern sitting on the floor by his clothes chest. ‘Has the sun even risen?’

  ‘Just.’

  She frowned at his harsh tone of voice, knowing that Lord Elrik of Roul had taken the place of her teasing husband. He had to have been up a while, because he was almost fully dressed for battle. She wondered who had assisted him into the mail while she slept. ‘Did you get any sleep?’

  ‘Enough.’ He pulled his long sword belt and scabbard from the chest and secured the belt round his body.

  ‘Have we made landfall?’

  ‘Soon.’

  Avelyn knew he was preoccupied, but his one-word answers served only to make her more worried.

  Samuel entered the cabin, carrying a sword that he extended to Elrik. ‘As sharp as can be.’

  Avelyn pulled the covers up to her chin.

  ‘Beg pardon, my lady, I didn’t know you were awake,’ Samuel apologised, then pulled two daggers from the back of his belt and handed them to Elrik, who slid one into a smaller scabbard hanging from his belt and the other into the top of a boot.

  She now knew who had helped dress her husband and she was taken aback by the oddly sudden flare of jealousy flooding through her.

  Samuel pulled two leather straps from the chest and wrapped them crosswise over Elrik’s chest and back, before sliding two short swords into the leather-wrapped sheaths resting against his back.

  Elrik reached over his shoulder. ‘Higher.’

  After shortening the straps and making certain the buckles were tight, Samuel stepped back.

  This time when Elrik reached over each shoulder, he easily pulled a weapon free.

  When he turned to look at her, Avelyn gasped. She’d spent four years in her father’s keep. She’d seen men ready themselves for battle numerous times. But never had she seen a more frightening vision.

  Samuel picked up Elrik’s mailed gloves, head covering and metal helm, then left, saying, ‘I’ll leave you two alone.’

  Elrik said nothing; he simply spread his arms. Without hesitation, Avelyn tossed aside the cover and nearly flew across the cabin to rush into his hard embrace.

  He tried to pul
l her away, but she clung to him. ‘Avelyn, you’ll hurt yourself.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ She looked up at him. ‘Kiss me.’

  He pulled her up against his chest. ‘That was the plan.’

  Thankfully, his hold was tight, otherwise Avelyn was certain she would faint from the myriad of emotions overwhelming her. One after another—lust, need and longing—built at the sweep of his tongue across hers. Only to be followed by loss, sadness and fear. A cry caught in her throat. He could be killed. This could be the last time she tasted his kiss.

  Elrik groaned and lifted his lips a breath away to whisper, ‘Stop, Avelyn. Don’t do this.’

  Before she could respond, he swept her away once again.

  Too soon he lowered her to her feet and broke their kiss. ‘The men will be in here soon. You need to get dressed.’

  Struck with the urgent need to tell him what she felt for him, she said, ‘Elrik, I—’

  ‘No.’ He placed a finger over her lips to stop her from speaking. ‘Do not.’

  When she closed her lips, he said, ‘I know what you think you feel. But it is only because you are afraid. Save your words for later, when all is settled and you are not beset by needless fear.’

  He swiped his thumbs beneath her eyes to wipe away tears she didn’t know had started to fall. ‘Now, get dressed.’

  She reluctantly moved away to pull her clothes off the clothes peg and tossed on her chemise and overgown.

  Elrik pushed her trembling fingers aside and tied her laces before wrapping her belt low on her hips. He handed her her stockings and soft boots and waited until she sat down and donned them before putting a comb through her hair.

  She patiently sat still, enjoying the brush of his fingers against her neck as he fumbled with making a long braid that fell down her back.

  Finished, he kissed the top of her head before calling out for Samuel and Fulke to enter.

  The two men came into the cabin. Neither man was dressed for battle, their solemn expressions mirroring each other.

  Avelyn rose and looked from them, to her husband. ‘Elrik?’

  He pulled a scroll from the chest and handed it to Samuel. ‘If anything should happen, this will ensure everything I own falls to Avelyn unimpeded. Everything.’

  She gasped, speechless.

  At his nod, both men knelt—before her.

  ‘See to her safety as you would mine. Be as loyal to her as you have been to me.’

  They both swore to do so.

  He stared at her. ‘Treat them well, Avelyn.’

  Avelyn looked from the men to her husband, her mind working furiously to comprehend what had just happened.

  The two men rose and stood before her—waiting. However, she had no idea what they waited for.

  The weight of his action settled cold around her heart. She stared at her husband. ‘You cannot leave them with me. Elrik, who will protect your back? Who will warn of coming danger?’

  He reached up over his shoulder and tapped a short sword. ‘My back is protected. There are dozens of men to keep their eyes and ears attuned for danger.’

  ‘Elrik, no.’

  ‘It is done, Avelyn. These men are now yours.’

  ‘What about Osbert?’ He didn’t realise how dangerous and unpredictable her half-brother might prove to be.

  ‘You need not worry about Osbert. Why do you think I chose these guards for you?’

  ‘No. Not for me, Elrik. For you—if his plan is to go after one of us, it will be you, not me. Had his plans centred on me, he would have stayed at Carlisle.’

  ‘I am well able to handle your half-brother. This is not open for debate.’

  Fear set her legs trembling. But from the stern look on his face and the furrowed brow, he wasn’t going to change his mind for her—not about this.

  She turned to Samuel and Fulke. ‘Talk sense into him.’

  Fulke shrugged. ‘Do you think we haven’t already tried?’

  Samuel said, ‘Can you not see that your safety is more important than his own? There is nothing any of us can say that will sway him. My lady, do not make this harder for everyone than it already is.’

  ‘Enough.’ Elrik pulled her into his embrace. Holding her close for a moment, he kissed her forehead, then relaxed his hold. ‘You have nothing to fear, Avelyn. Edan and Rory will welcome you on Roul Isle if need be.’

  ‘I don’t want Edan, Rory, or Roul Isle. I want you.’

  ‘You talk as though my death is already set when what you need to be doing is planning for the future. There is an entire keep that will need people to run it. And bedchambers that will need to be filled with children. Avelyn, instead of thinking about my death, think about the hard work it will entail creating all those children.’

  She laughed at his silliness, grateful that he’d taken the time to tease her.

  ‘The three of you will have much to keep you busy. Lord Geoffrey, or one of his men, will meet me when we make landfall. An area will be set aside for you to make camp for yourselves, the women and the few men I leave behind to guard the camp.’ He tipped her head so he could stare down at her. ‘You are in charge, Avelyn. I will send word to you.’

  She was in charge? Had he lost the ability to think clearly? She shook her head. ‘No. I cannot be in charge.’

  One brow lifted. ‘There is no choice. These people will look to me, or to you. As I won’t be here, it will fall to you to make decisions.’

  Her stomach rolled. She had never been in charge of anything, except making the decision to run away and that hadn’t turned out so well. ‘Elrik, put one of the men in your place.’

  ‘Listen to me.’ He frowned. ‘I know everything is happening quickly. Remember, you are a king’s great-granddaughter. You are the wife of a baron. You need to start acting as such without delay.’

  ‘But...’ Her words trailed off. She didn’t want to put her new worries on him. One way or another, she would have to work out how to deal with these fears on her own.

  ‘If you need anything important, send me word. I’ll see that an answer is returned quickly.’

  They’d never discussed her learning—or lack of learning to read or write. She lowered her voice. ‘I cannot.’

  He studied her a moment before saying, ‘We can remedy your father’s lack of preparing you for this life, later. Both of your men can read and write. Samuel better than Fulke.’

  It seemed wrong that the men who would answer to her were better suited for this task than she would ever become.

  ‘Avelyn, do not worry so. Like you did at David’s court, show them no fear. How you act, and how you appear, will go further than what you do, or do not, know. Act as if you know what you are doing. If you ask someone to do something and they ignore you, bark that request as an order—it will be followed. If it’s not, you have men to correct that problem.’

  ‘I am not certain I can get my voice quite as low as yours.’

  He shrugged. ‘Just don’t screech and you’ll be fine. Little dove, make certain to keep Samuel and Fulke close. Otherwise, I will worry and I’ve enough to do without having to be concerned for your welfare. Do you understand me?’

  She nodded.

  Without warning, he pulled her hard against his chest again and rested his cheek against her head. ‘Be safe, Wife. Be strong. Be brave.’

  He released her just as abruptly and left the cabin. She looked at Samuel and Fulke. ‘You just stand there? Someone needs to help him with the rest of his armour and see that he gets safely to Lord Geoffrey.’ When neither of them moved, she waved a hand towards the door. ‘If one of you doesn’t, I will.’

  Samuel nodded, turned and left. Fulke remained. The last thing she wanted right this moment was anyone standing around watching her. She had every intention of having a good cry now, so that she wouldn’t need to do so la
ter when there would be more than enough work to be done and she would be surrounded by people expecting her to be strong.

  ‘Does the sight of a woman’s tears bother you?’

  His eyes widened as if horrified by the mere mention of tears.

  ‘I am going to throw myself on my pallet and cry until I can no longer do so. You might want to leave.’

  He headed for the door at a near run, saying, ‘I’ll be right outside.’

  * * *

  Avelyn pushed the hair that had slipped free from her braid off her face. She surveyed the section of the camp they’d set up from her spot atop a small hill. In the waning light of the day, it appeared peaceful and inviting.

  She hadn’t received word from Elrik until late in the morning, so they’d all worked extra hard to unload the supplies they would need from the ships. The women and the small squad of guards assigned to the camp had all worked together without any major difficulties. She’d only had to call on Fulke’s assistance once to end a dispute between two of the men. It had been immediately apparent that they’d been fighting over one of the women and she didn’t want to put herself in the middle of that argument.

  When she’d first stepped off the ship, it had been oddly comforting to find Little Lady saddled and waiting between Samuel and Fulke’s horses. At least she didn’t have to become accustomed to riding a new horse.

  The area Lord Geoffrey had given them to use wasn’t too far from where they’d made landfall and he’d also given them the use of two carts with draft horses, so transporting the supplies hadn’t been too difficult.

  In truth, the hardest thing for her all day thus far had been trying to decide where to set up the tents. The only experience she had came from the days she’d been on the road with Elrik and the men. She didn’t want the cook fires too close to the trees for fear of stray embers starting a fire. But the denseness of the trees would provide additional shelter from rain. On the other hand, the same denseness would provide too much cover for anyone wishing to attack the camp.

  It had been rather nerve racking to stand there trying to make up her mind with everyone looking at her expectantly. Samuel had come to her rescue by circling the area on his horse and bringing it to a stop in the middle of where he’d just ridden.