Читать книгу Bedded By The Warrior - Denise Lynn - Страница 11

‘Sarah.’ William’s deep voice floated across her ear. ‘It is time to leave.’

As she turned with him toward the double doors, he grasped her hand, asking, ‘Is there any you wish to bid farewell?’

A curt response at the tip of her tongue, she stared up at him. But the twitch at the corner of his lips, and an amused glint in his eyes, stopped her from speaking. He was teasing her. Had he heard the women’s whispers and laughter? Had he somehow understood how much the venom behind their spiteful mocking hurt her?

She leaned forwards, intentionally craning her neck to look around him at the women, and answered, ‘No. I think not.’

William paused to slip his arm across her tense shoulders and pull her closer before turning his focus towards the surprised women. ‘I fault you not for having sense enough to recognise those unworthy of your time or attention.’

He’d raised his voice enough to be heard, and darkened his tone enough to be understood. Sarah couldn’t be certain of what astonished, or befuddled, her more—his open defence of her, or the looks of shock and shame written on the women’s faces.

After once again starting towards the doors, William looked down at her, and she had the sudden sensation of drowning in his golden-flecked soft brown eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, making it difficult to swallow.

Worse was the way her heart raced, and her chest swelled with an emotion she feared to name.

She didn’t know this man, didn’t trust him. She didn’t want to be his wife. She couldn’t possibly feel anything for him. Nothing at all.

When they left the chapel, Sarah eased out from beneath his arm. She needed to keep her distance from him. And needed to remind herself that he was nothing more than a way to complete this last task for the Queen.

William couldn’t help but notice his wife’s sudden withdrawal once they were away from the women’s sight. He’d wondered why she had responded so ardently to his kiss, and now he knew it had been for the women’s benefit—not his.

Why did that knowledge cause a twinge of regret? It wasn’t as if the act of exchanging vows had changed anything between them. Except that one taste of her lips served to make him want more.

‘Sarah, wait.’ He laced his fingers through hers. William knew better than to let her get away from him, since he had the feeling she would once again bolt at the first opportunity.

After Queen Eleanor agreed to his demand, Sarah had run away from him. He couldn’t be certain, but he suspected she’d run after Eleanor to convince the Queen to change her mind. Obviously her attempt had been unsuccessful.

Sarah tried to free her hand, but before she could say anything, a woman William recognised as another of the Queen’s ladies approached.

‘Lady Sarah, this is from the Queen.’ The woman gave Sarah a small pouch.

His wife opened the jewel-adorned bag to glance inside. Her eyes widened before she reached into the pouch to retrieve what appeared to be enough gold to see them well on their way.

When Sarah tried to hand the pouch back, the woman shook her head and refused to take bag. ‘No, it is yours. Queen Eleanor wishes you a safe journey.’ She glanced shyly from William to Sarah. ‘As do I and I wish you well.’

His wife’s expressive eyes widened for less than a heartbeat, but she smiled and said, ‘Thank you.’ Sarah paused, as if uncertain, and then added, ‘I wish you well also, Lady Elise. May your stay here be enjoyable and brief.’

Elise laughed. As she turned to leave, she advised, ‘Daylight will arrive within the hour. You need to be on your way quickly.’

William nodded his acknowledgement of the warning and started for the chamber he shared with the Earl. But Sarah tugged his arm in the other direction. ‘This way is quicker.’

She knew the castle far better, and since her freedom was also at stake, he would trust her judgement in this. ‘Lead on.’

Sarah took them quickly down a semi-lit corridor, which ended at a landing that ran the length of the Great Hall.

William glanced over the railing into the nearly deserted hall below. His breath caught in his throat.

Richard of Langsford and Stefan of Arnyll were deep in conversation as they approached the stairs leading up to the landing.

Without thought, William grabbed Sarah. He ignored her gasp and dragged her into a small, unlit alcove.

The sight of Langsford didn’t bother him. That man was nothing more than a bully and a drunken fool—a useless pawn of the Queen’s in her ceaseless attempts to thwart the Earl.

But Arnyll was another matter. What was that soulless son of the devil doing here?

Like William, Arnyll had also been captured and sold into slavery. When Hugh had won his freedom and the lives of three others, he had requested that Arnyll be included only because the man was a fellow countryman.

William had felt sorry for the smaller man’s plight, when Arnyll had first been tossed into Sidatha’s dungeon. William had taught Arnyll how to use speed and agility to conquer his opponents. The two of them had often been paired together, literally fighting back to back, as one.

However, Arnyll had soon shown his true character. The man had proven to be as bad as, if not worse than, the slave master Aryseeth.

The memory of a scrawny dog that William and some of the others had saved from the cook’s pot flooded his mind. He fought not to tremble like a spineless fool at the memory. They’d hidden the starving mongrel for months—until Arnyll, in a fit of spite over an extra portion of bitter wine given to another, had told Aryseeth of the animal. The very next morning they had all learned how futile their attempts to preserve the dog’s life had been.

The men’s footsteps drew nearer. They were so deep in conversation neither man had noticed William and Sarah on the landing.

William dropped on to a stone bench in the dark corner of the alcove, and pulled Sarah down on his lap. Most times it was near impossible to hide his size. With any luck the appearance of lovers in a private tryst might work. It might also provide the perfect opportunity to eavesdrop on the men’s conversation.

When she pushed against his chest in a futile attempt to escape, he wrapped one arm around her to hold her close. Certain she’d not remain silent for much longer, William wove his fingers through her hair and lowered his mouth to hers.

She gasped against his lips, and he whispered, ‘Be still. I will not harm you, but Arnyll would.’

Sarah frowned. Arnyll? It only took her a few moments to realise that he spoke of Stefan. She’d seen the cur Richard with Stefan in the hall, and had witnessed William’s reaction in confusion.

If these men caused a brute like him to act in such haste, perhaps she’d be wise to follow his lead.

Keeping her voice soft and low, she warned him, ‘This is only for appearances, it is not real.’ She felt him smile against her lips as she raised her arms and clasped her hands behind his head.

She narrowed her eyes, wishing she could see his face in the dark. For a reason she could not name, Sarah had the feeling that his smile would be smug, and that his eyes would sparkle with mischief.

Unfortunately it was becoming apparent that she’d not married a man lacking in wits. That could prove a detriment to her task—and perhaps a danger to her.

Above all else, she needed to make certain William didn’t learn she was still under the Queen’s orders. He would never understand. No man would take kindly to know that, regardless of their vows, their wife still answered to another.

Richard and Stefan’s conversation grew louder as they approached the alcove. Sarah could almost make out some of their words, and what little she heard set her mind spinning. There was disjointed talk of a task being successful.

Only someone involved with court intrigue would be able to make sense of the snatches of overheard conversation. They spoke of the Queen and her, but it was doubtful if William would be able to piece the snatches together.

She hoped his hearing was not as attuned to the hushed voices used at court as hers. Because the task the two men discussed was the one she’d recently failed completing.

They’d done their part—the two of them had kidnapped Adrienna, preventing her from seeking out Wynnedom. Even though none had known about their marriage at the time, all had been aware that the pair were always together. So, the kidnapping had been deemed necessary to enable Sarah to be found in the Earl’s bed.

But some niggling thought had urged Sarah to see to Adrienna’s release. That was when she’d learned about their marriage.

Sarah wasn’t certain if either Richard or Stefan knew she’d been the one to release Adrienna. Nor was she certain they knew of her marriage to Bronwyn. She wasn’t eager to discover what they did or didn’t know.

She moaned softly, so only her husband could hear, and pressed harder against his chest. It was all she could do not to sigh with relief when William relaxed his arm and stroked gentle circles on her back.

Perhaps Queen Eleanor had been right. After all, William was just a man. And maybe like the other men at court he could be easily swayed.

She’d learned early on that a soft smile, a teasing look, or a brief touch against his chest, or arm, went a long way towards convincing a man to see things her way. Seldom had she been forced to resort to making promises that would never be kept.

When Richard and Stefan walked in front of the alcove, her heart beat so hard she thought it would burst. Silently she prayed they would say nothing to give her away. She feared William finding out that she still spied for the Queen more than she feared discovery by these men.

William tightened his fingers against the back of her head and covered her mouth with his lips. Sarah’s pulse raced even faster. There was nothing gentle about the way he held her close, or teased her lips until they parted as if under their own will.

He kissed her thoroughly, wiping away any thought of the men, or the Queen, from her mind. She could think of nothing except the heat rushing through her veins, melting her resolve to keep herself distant from this man she’d wed.

The only thing that filled her mind, the only thing she could concentrate on, was the sure and certain magic of his mouth moving against hers. And on the heady warmth he traced along her lips.

When he ceased his kisses, Sarah quickly realised that he no longer held her close. Instead, she clung to him, her breasts pressed against his chest, her hands gripping his shoulders.

She quickly pulled away. Folding her hands in her lap, she drew in a deep breath, seeking a measure of calm against the storm still raging in her chest. Never had a man’s kiss affected her so.

She corrected her earlier assumption about how easily he could be swayed. The Queen had been wrong—William of Bronwyn was not just another man.

‘I think they are gone.’ His breath raced hot against her ear. He leaned closer, to ask in a heated whisper, ‘Are you sure nothing about that kiss was real?’

Sarah nearly lunged from his lap, suddenly wondering if she’d wed a rogue.

He rose from the bench and brushed by her, taking her hand in his as he passed. ‘Come, we need to join Hugh and Lady Adrienna, then leave this court.’

Still uncertain how he had so easily stolen her wits, Sarah wordlessly led him to the chamber.