Page 58 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
The feminine voice was not the one William had expected—or wished—to hear upon his return to the castle. He muffled a curse and joined Cwenhild. She had hidden her precious gown and bejeweled hair under a cloak that, judging from its simplicity, must belong to one of her maids. In this attire she was unrecognizable. His suspicion was instantly roused. Why this need for secrecy?
“What are you doing here?” It was the first time she had come to find him at his castle and she risked a lot by coming here.
“I must speak to you.”
He gave a curse. When he had announced the end of their affair, he had guessed she would not leave it at that, but he had not imagined she would pursue him all the way here.
“We have nothing to say to each other,” he said, barely concealing his irritation.
His body was still humming from the girl’s embrace and the last thing he wanted right now was to deal with Cwenhild. She belonged to his past. His future was with the Saxon girl, he was certain of it. Whatever happened tonight would mark a new chapter in their life because he would not be content with making love to her just the once. That damn dagger of hers had not left any trace on his skin but all the same, she had carved herself a place into his heart.
From the moment they met he’d wanted her. And now that they had kissed, everything had been turned on its head. The desire he felt for her had become an all-consuming need, something that transcended simple physical craving.
William had never kissed anyone with such desperation before. The other women he’d had in his arms had alreadyaccepted they wanted him. They had no reason to shy away from the fact. Kissing had been part of a seductive game, or a prelude to lovemaking, nothing more.
Not with her.
With her it had been different. New. Exciting, the beginning of something life-changing. Today he had kissed a girl who could vanish at any moment, who wasn’t sure what she wanted. So much more had been at stake. He’d kissed her to erase any lingering doubts she might harbour about him.
At first, she’d remained rather stiff in his arms, seemingly surprised by the intensity of his embrace, then she had softened against him. Her body had found its place against his as naturally as it did at night, as easily as her soul had molded itself around his during their time together. They belonged together, he was sure of it.
This first kiss only made it more imperative that she should allow him to make love to her at last, and then stay by his side. Fortunately, she’d agreed to spend one more night with him. He would make sure that one night turned into many days of happiness.
Leaving her when he’d finally gotten her where he wanted had been torture. But he could not have taken her out in the open. Anyone could have come upon them. Besides, Eilmund was waiting for him in the great hall. He could not afford to delay any longer.
And now this!
“There was no need to come all this way to see me,” he told Cwenhild. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
“We never did, but we always found a way to spend the time.” This last comment, pertinent though it was—or ratherbecauseit was pertinent—did little to encourage him to be patient with her. She saw it and amended her statement. “I knowyou do not want to see me anymore, but there is something I need to tell you.”
“Then tell me, and be done with it,” he snapped.
“I cannot, not here.”
“Then you’ve come for nothing and I suggest you leave. I have business to attend to.”
She stopped him with a hand on his arm when he made to walk past her. She glanced around her nervously, checking that no one was within hearing range. “I think I am with child,” she whispered in his ear. “Now will you persist in your refusal to listen?”
William’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach.
No.
Not this, not now.
“Why would a child of yours be of any concern of mine?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
She pursed her lips. “Because you are the father. My husband will consider it a miracle to see me swell with his child, considering we have not slept together in months. Usually miracles are well received, but I am not sure this one will be.”
William gave a muffled series of curses. He had put an end to that ill-advised affair too late after all. In his folly he had fathered a child onto a married woman, the wife of a man he was trying to win around to his ways, a man he was trying to convince Normans could be trustworthy allies, instead of arrogant invaders.
A few moments of madness would ruin months of effort. After that, he would not blame Ecberg for thinking William a traitor and a liar. It seemed that Cwenhild did not belong to his past after all. There was a very real possibility she would be part of his future as well.
As the mother of his child.
“I will have to speak to your husband,” he said through gritted teeth. Saying the meeting would be unpleasant was an understatement. He had little choice but to face his responsibilities and do the right thing by Cwenhild, however. He would not be a coward. “I will not let you face him alone.”
He had expected her to be relieved at this show of support, but her eyes grew wide with anguish.
