Page 21 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
She placed the half-eaten fruit on the table and went straight to the courtyard. Mayhap the activity reigning there would help restore some sense into her.
*
When William emerged from the main hall a moment later, he immediately spotted the girl on the wooden palisade. She was gazing into the distance with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Of course she would not have been to a castle before. It was a new construction brought to her country by Guillaume deNormandie—the man who was now her king—and the view from her vantage point likely took her breath away.
William jumped on Thunder before he became lost in contemplation himself. He had other things to do than waste his time gawking at Saxon girls looking at landscapes in wonder. After a short, reckless gallop that cleared his mind, he reached Ecberg of Faldon’s house.
“My husband left early this morning, but we are expecting him presently, my lord.” Ecberg’s wife, Cwenhild, nodded her dismissal to the servant who’d brought him into the house. As soon as they were alone, she placed a hand on William’s chest and nestled close against him. “It’s been a long time. I am glad to see you. Let me show you how much.”
He gritted his teeth at the very overt seduction. “Leave it, I’m not in the mood.”
“That would be a first,” she chuckled, snaking her hand down to the front of his hose.
Before she could reach past his navel, he grabbed her wrist. “I mean it.” There was a steely edge to his voice he rarely used with women. “I came here to see your husband, not you.”
“That has never stopped you before.” Her grin was pure mischief, and though the comment grated, William could only agree with her.
Yes, unfortunately, he had never let it bother him before.
“Perhaps, but it was a mistake.”
That was the least he could say. He had not behaved wisely where Cwenhild was concerned. He had allowed himself to be seduced, in spite of his better judgment. As soon as she had set eyes on him, she’d pursued him relentlessly, exploiting his many visits to her husband to press her advantage.
After weeks of resistance, William had surrendered. The two of them would never have been able to discuss anything ofimportance, but her knowledge of his language was sufficient for them to conduct an affair.
Of course, some of her arguments had been non-verbal, and all the more potent for it. He suspected her of having had affairs with other Norman barons, for some of her vocabulary was very specific. It galled him that the only time he had let his judgment lapse was with someone who would discard him as soon as she’d found herself a new lover. Had he resisted her for another week, she would have found herself another toy and left him alone, he was certain of it.
“You are calling me a mistake? When you never uttered a word of protest in weeks?”
William gave a sigh. Cwenhild was incandescent with rage, but he could not muster the will to appease her. It was as if she had lost all her appeal overnight.
While she ranted on about his lack of constancy, his mind wandered back to the Saxon girl he had left behind. He still did not know her name, or anything about her, but that didn’t stop him from thinking of her constantly, and thisnotbecause he wanted to find out more about her mission, but because of the woman she was.
Did she have a family? Was a father or a brother looking for her? Would anyone come to her aid? What would she be doing today?
He realized too late he had not left any specific instructions as to her safeguarding. Still, he wasn’t unduly worried about her disappearing into the blue. She was not a competent rider so there was little chance of her trying to steal a horse from his stables, and on foot she wouldn’t go far from the castle. His people knew he didn’t want her to leave, even if they did not know why, so he was confident they would not let her out of their sight.
He had not exposed her as a potential killer yet. Everyone probably assumed she was a village girl he’d taken a fancy to and kept for his pleasure. Even though he had never done anything like this before, the other barons were familiar enough with the practice. That was one of the reasons why William wanted to do everything he could to establish a different relationship between the two peoples. Considering how they acted, it was hardly to be wondered at that the Saxons considered his fellowmen as arrogant invaders without principles. He was sick to his soul of seeing the Normans, in other words nobles who should have known how to conduct themselves with honor, behave as if they had every right to plunder the land, rape the women, and humiliate the local population.
A certain amount of force was probably inevitable, but if the new king wanted his hold on the country to be permanent, he should think about controlling his men’s worst excesses.
“I was telling you I would like to have my stockings returned at some point. But you are not listening to me.” Cwenhild’s acid voice cut through his thoughts.
“No, I’m not, but as I did not come to see you, it is little wonder that whatever you have to tell me should be of no interest to me. As to your clothes, if you are so worried about their whereabouts, perhaps you should not remove them so readily.”
This made her eyes widen. William himself was surprised by his snappy answer. He was not one known for losing his temper. He looked at her more closely, wondering how he could ever have thought her desirable. She was beautiful but lacked the simple appeal of another Saxon girl he knew. Everything about Cwenhild was done for effect, there was not an ounce of spontaneity in her. Even the way she spoke set his teethon edge. It sounded nothing like the melodious speech of the red-haired girl.
He shook his head. Why did everything make him think of her?
He was fast regretting not taking her along with him today. Having her by his side might have stopped his mind from wandering to her constantly. As it was, he could not but help drawing comparisons between her and the woman before him.
Cwenhild would never eat wild hazelnuts as if they were an expensive delicacy or lift her head to the sky to feel the caress of the sun on her skin. She owed all her powers of seduction to costly gowns and heavy jewelry. Though her status was higher, she possessed none of the natural elegance of the Saxon girl. Under her shift were no maddening curves to be caressed or small, pert breasts crowned with rosy tips.
He grew hard just thinking about how good they had tasted in his mouth. He wanted more of them.
Cwenhild saw it, and a smile appeared on her lips. “Even if you are not interested in what I have to say, you might pay attention to what I can do.” She licked her lips and smiled. “Perhaps youarein the mood after all.”
