Page 10 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
No. She shook her head. This would not do. William was a dangerous enemy she’d sworn revenge on, not a man to be seduced. So why was her unruly mind urging her to consider things she had never imagined doing before, like running her tongue over that damned vein?
Not stopping to worry about how she would look with her loosened bodice and her hair in disarray, she turned for the door but a hand closed on her wrist before she had taken one step.
“Where do you imagine you are going?”
Rowena swallowed in panic. For a moment, lost in licentious thoughts, she had forgotten the reality of the situation. Of course William would not let her go unpunished, not after she had confessed to wanting to murder him. She was not going anywhere.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have found out who you are, who sent you, and why. Despite your claim to the contrary, I don’t believe you are not acting on another’s behalf.”
His eyes narrowed as he turned the dagger in his hand. With a sinking heart, she understood he’d recognized it and was trying to remember where he’d seen it. She cursed her decision to use a weapon he might recognize. Any other dagger would have done just as well.
“I’m telling you no one—”
“In any case, it’s late,” he cut in, not interested in her protests. “The men are either drunk or unconscious. There is nothing to be done until morning. You will sleep here tonight. But without this.” He tossed the dagger back onto the table. “I trust I will be able to restrain you if necessary.”
There was a small smile, little more than a twitch. He was mocking her. Rowena wondered if she would not have preferred him to hand her over to one of his men to be guarded as a murderer than kept in here for his amusement.
“And where are you to sleep?” she asked as haughtily as she dared.
“Where do you think?” The look he threw her made her heart flip in her chest. “This is my bed. I will sleep in it.”
4
“It’s time to go.” William emptied his cup of ale and stood up.
They had broken their fast together in the privacy of his room. Rowena’s appetite was not quite up to the task, however, and she only managed a few spoonfuls of gruel. As if that was not enough, she had not slept a wink last night, lying stiffly on the bed next to William, considering her options and finding none.
Her dagger had been taken away and she had seen nothing that would pass as a weapon in the room. Suffocating him under the fur covers was a ridiculous proposition, as was strangling him. He would lift her off him in a heartbeat. She might as well try to kiss him to death. Ludicrous as it was, that particular idea had sent an unwelcome shiver of excitation through her body, making it even more impossible to find any sleep.
Once, just before dawn, she had tried to move, to see if she would be able to reach the door without waking him. He had raised his head as soon as she had stirred.
“Don’t even think about it, whatever it is,” he’d warned, eyes aglow in the moonlight, as alert as if he had not been asleep moments before.
After that she had stopped trying and just lain there, staring at the ceiling, doing her best to keep panic at bay. What would happen to her now? William had spared her life because he thought her instrumental in someone else’s scheme, and he wanted to find out who. Even if he did not kill her, there werea number of things he could do, especially if he was intent on extracting the information he needed to identify his real enemy.
Or to humiliate her and take the pleasure he had been denied last night.
But to her surprise, he had not attempted anything. No one in the castle knew that she, a Saxon girl, intended to kill a Norman baron, and William himself behaved as if she had every right to be in his bedchamber. She was sure the maid who had brought the food in earlier had not suspected Rowena of being anything other than his latest conquest, waking up in his bed after a night of passion.
Incomprehensible as it was, he did not seem intent on punishing her for attempting to kill him.
Yet.
“My business with the king is complete. We are to go back to my castle without delay,” he announced as naturally as if they were a married couple about to visit one of their numerous domains. “It is situated upriver, about thirty miles away on the road to Basingstoke. We will travel with the company of other barons going north and part from them at the end of the day.”
“We?”
“Of course. You are coming with me.”
He did not offer any more explanation. Rowena had a sudden vision of her following a horse barefoot, with her wrists bound by a rope. She shivered at the prospect.
“Will I—”
“No, nothing as drastic as that.” He smirked, and she realized that her horror must have shown on her face. “Let’s go.” He buckled his scabbard with decision. Then he tucked the horn-hilt dagger into his belt, and even had the audacity to smile at her as he did so.
Rowena did not pass any comment.
In the outer enclosure of the castle, the final preparations were underway. Squires busied themselves with the saddling of horses and the packing of bags, while knights gave their last orders. Having sworn their oath of fealty to King William, the barons were returning to their lands.
