De Warenne Dynasty 01 - The Conquerer (26 page)

No fool, Ceidre, knew she must be subtle, maybe resist him a little even as she flaunted herself Details of the dream reared themselves again, and angry, she swept them away from her mind. She must be strong, and brave. She got up and hurried outside to wash her face and throat, her arms and chest. An idea struck her, owing to the persistence of her shadow, this one a very young man, really a boy, named Wilfred.

Usually, when free to do as she pleased, Ceidre performed her ablutions in a nook of the creek that ran through the village, one just outside town and shielded by the forest. This had no longer been possible, not since theNorman 's possession of Aelfgar, for she was afraid of his men. She would beg Rolfe to let her bathe without her guard. He, of course, would refuse-and she would very subtly suggest that he be the one to accompany her. Ceidre felt a touch of fear laced excitement. She would order him to turn his back, then she would strip completely. In no time, she was sure, she would be his mistress. Tis better to get this over with, she told herself, her heart pounding. It would be a while before he trusted her enough to start revealing information to her, as it was.

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The only thing she worried about was if her plan lacked subtlety. Well, she supposed, she would soon find out.

But sooner would have to be later, Ceidre discovered as she approached the keep, for the Norman was already mounting up with a handful of his men. He twisted abruptly, and Ceidre realized she was staring.

Just in time she caught herself from a reflexive response to look away and held his gaze boldly.

His eyes widened, surprise crossed his face. Ceidre held his gaze and watched the surprise gleam and transform itself into something bright, burning. Her stomach actually did somersaults. In fact, beneath his now openly smoldering regard, her entire body tightened and she felt breathless. I am not being subtle, she managed to think, and she tore her gaze away.

She was blushing, and she thought to escape within the keep. She was almost at the outside stairs when he rode her down, his big horse practically brushing her back. Ceidre leapt and backed away nervously, but he moved the stallion in closer, until her spine was at the u-411. He leaned down, smiling ruthlessly, with those hot blue eyes. "An invitation like that must be answered," he murmured.

Her heart was leaping into her throat. "'Twas not an invitation," she squeaked, only too late realizing she should be thinking, planning, seducing, but most definitely not denying his words.

"No?" He grinned, still boxing her in. His knee almost touched her breast. "Be careful with those looks, Ceidre. This thing between us is no game."

"I-I was only . . ." She trailed off. His leg was disconcerting her as it pressed into the fullness of her breast. He was disconcerting her, with his handsome face, his predatory smile, his bright, bold eyes.

"Yes?" His grinned openly, apparently enjoying himself. "Perhaps you were admiring my form," he suggested.

She saw the opening and seized it. "You know," she flung back, feeling in control now, "that the women eye you often. You like it."

"I like it when you eye me," he corrected lazily. His horse shifted. By accident? His knee caressed her breast. Her nipples were hard and tight, and Ceidre looked down to see that they were quite evident.

She felt color rising.

"I am human, remember," she mumbled, "no witch, as you know, just flesh-and-blood woman."

"You do not have to remind me," he said softly, leaning down again. His finger touched her cheek. It trailed to her throat. His gaze dipped lower, blatantly assessing her bosom. Ceidre was almost strangled with something nameless, or something she refused to name. She knew well, from memory, how his hands felt on her breasts, and she wondered if he would touch her there now. She wanted him to.

Of course he wouldn't, they were in public, surrounded by his men. He shifted his horse backward, putting distance between them. His smile was twisted now, like the dog denied the bone. His glance now was just as derisive, and insolent. He turned abruptly and with an arm raised, to command his men to follow, he rode down the motte and through the raised portculis.

.

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Ceidre folded her arms tightly about her. Slowly, as the fog of wanting that his presence had generated lifted, coherent thought returned. He wanted her, it was no wish, but clear and true. She would be able to carry out this seduction easily, very easily. Why, then, was there this choking feeling in her heart?

She turned to go up the steps into the keep. It was then that she saw Alice, on the top step, staring down at her, her face flushed and pinched. Alice. A factor she had not considered. In fact, she had forgotten completely about her.

Chapter 35

What game, he mused, was this?

Rolfe leaned back in his chair, replete with his noonday meal, staring at the bronze-haired wench below him. Throughout the meal she had cast brazen glances at him. Brazen, that is, for Ceidre. Because there was a vulnerability contained in them, an element of shyness, that, no matter how hard she tried to be bold, she fell short of the mark. If he were not so hot for her he would be amused. But he was hot.

Uncomfortably so, his groin swollen and thick. He had adjusted his hose many times. Why, now, after all the fear, the wariness, and the anger, was she attempting to be so bold?

What did she want?

Should he test her, see how far she would go?

Or was he wrong? Mayhap it wasn't a game. He knew she fought her desire for him. Perhaps finally, she was as smitten as he, the urges unbearable, and she was succumbing to them. Perhaps now, with the passage of time, she had forgiven him all his trespasses and saw him only as a man. He struggled not to give in to heady elation, to be cautious, wary, and cynical. It was impossible not to be thrilled.

He had not forgotten his vows. If she continued, with mere looks, half shy, half bold, to provoke him, he would become undone, forsaking his vows, and enter a near-incestuous relationship. Rolfe's mouth pursed grimly.

He tore his gaze away from her, and to distract himself, he tuned in to the conversation between Guy and Athelstan. They were discussing the Scots, ever a problem in these far northern lands. William may have chased a clan of Campbells far into Cumbria, but reports had come in of raids upon his own lands, near the lonely village of Eoshire on the coast. Campbells again, Rolfe thought, from Tantalon.

"A few sheep today, a dozen tomorrow," Guy said vehemently. "But they do not know my lord. He will chase them into their rotten sea!"

Athelstan smiled, as Rolfe would have if not so agonized, at Guy's passion. "The Scots are wily, the Campbells the most of all. The best way is to make an alliance. Although they can't be trusted to hold the peace for long, 'tis a respite."

Alice's voice surprised everyone into absolute attention, even Rolfe. "Mayhap," she said slowly, "if it
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were the right alliance, things would not become undone so quickly."

Rolfe was amused. "What do you know of these things, my lady?"

She regarded him levelly, her big brown eyes wide, innocent. "I have lived in these harsh lands my entire life. Did you not know my father, the old eoarl, actually considered marrying me to one of them? To a Scot?" Her pitch was higher. "For peace, you understand. But I begged him to reconsider, and he did."

"Marriage is the best and surest way to cement relations," Guy said earnestly.

Rolfe chuckled. "What know you of marriage, Guy?"

The young man colored. "I know facts, my lord. HadWilliam not changed his mind and married his daughter Isolda to Edwin of Mercia, you think there wouldn't be harmonious, aye, sweet relations betwixst Saxon andNorman now?"

"William would have been twice the fool to give that man so much power," Rolfe answered. "Even though, I recall, Isolda dared to beg him not to change his mind."

"Well," Alice said, "in this case the participants lie closer to home. Do you know the Scot my father approached rejected me?"

Rolfe looked at her, wondering what she was leading up to and not doubting that she was angling purposefully somewhere. Otherwise she would not flaunt a rejection, and never before had he heard her profess the least interest in politics or warfare. He raised a brow, to show interest.

Alice smiled, gazing at him squarely, despite the lie she was making. "He wanted Ceidre, and of course"

she could not keep bitterness out of her tone-"my father would not even consider it."

Rolfe smiled, without pleasure; now he understood. "You think, Lady, he might still want your sister?"

His tone was impassive.

"Yes," Alice said, too quickly.

"My lord,"Guy said, "excuse me, but what a grand match for our sakes!"

Anger, furious and boiling, bubbled up in him. But all he said, so coolly, was "Perhaps."

And he thought, I am a fool. I should marry her off to a Scot, secure my borders, maybe, and never lay eyes on the witch again. He imagined, graphically, some big redheaded Scot driving himself into Ceidre, and knew he would not do it.

Alice sat back, turning her face down to hide her smile. Rolfe did not miss it. He abruptly launched himself out of his chair and through the hall. A soft hand on his elbow, behind him, stopped him. "My lord?" Ceidre asked.

He was stunned that she had touched him. She clasped her hands now, twisting them, trying to meet his gaze and failing. He had heard the note of nervousness. "You wish a word with me?" he asked, trying to contain feelings, ripe ones, suspiciously heartfelt ones.

"Please, Yes." She bravely glanced at him again.

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Was this a game or not? he wondered, and he, usually so decisive, could not decide. He gestured her to walk with him, and they strolled outside and down the broad wooden steps into the inner bailey. "Well?"

,

Ceidre flung a glance behind her. At firstRolfe thought it was to see who was nearby, then he realized she was making him aware ofWilfred , her guard. He began to understand; in fact, he suddenly knew why she had been so bold all day. She wanted him to cease his constant vigil of her. Rolfe smiled tightly.

"My lord, I beg a boon," she said, confirming his suspicions.

He folded his arms and waited.

"Ever since I was a little girl," Ceidre said, "there is this place I go." She peeked at him. "To bathe."

He said nothing, confused but infinitely patient, waiting for her to reveal herself.

"In the creek," she blurted. "In a hidden spot. But since you have come, I have been afraid to do so, because of your men. I am most dirty. I want to go there, but how can I with this oaf you have set on me, day and night? Please, free me for an hour. What harm can I do in an hour?"

He imagined her naked, hip deep in the creek, her breasts full and gleaming. "You are a traitor, Ceidre,"

he said quietly. "You have what you deserve."

She swallowed. "If I go, with him"-she pointed atWilfred- "he will rape me!"

"Come here,Will ,"Rolfe said. When the young man had, he said, "Ceidre is going to bathe in the creek.

You are to guard her, as usual, but you will turn your back. You are not to look. She has ten minutes to do what she may. If you touch her, the penalty is death, by my own sword" He looked at Ceidre. "You have nothing to fear." Still, he waited.

Her face paled. "You-you are sure?" she croaked.

"Very sure. Of course," he said coolly, "you can order a bath in the antechamber upstairs, if you wish."

Her nostrils flared, her purple eyes darkened. "I want to bathe in the creek," she said angrily. "I want to swim and frolic, I want to have fun."

So now she wanted to swim, which was entirely different from bathing. "Ten minutes,"Rolfe said. "You may frolic to your heart's contentment for ten minutes."

A silence ensued. She was upset, he could see it. Why?

He seriously doubted this was about a swim or a bath in the creek. She was up to more mischief, or she was testing him, he wasn't sure which. He had let her send Feldric to her brothers, because he wanted to be led to their lair, to locate it so he could capture them. Yet he was determined to prevent her from committing treason again, at all costs. For what punishment would he have to administer this time?

Therefore, the guard remained. Did she hope to go to the creek to rendezvous with some Saxon traitor?

Or did she think to entice him, seduce him, with this "bath" of hers? Was this a ploy to get him to follow her-right into the jaws of a trap?

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"I do not trust him," Ceidre finally said, referring toWilfred .

How far would she go? If she truly wanted to bathe, and only to bathe, she would give it up. "Then do not swim, or bathe, or whichever it is you want to do."

Surprisingly, a moistness entered her eyes. "You you do not-you do not want to ..."

"I do not want what?"

There was actually a tear on her lash. He had the urge to take it away with his fingertip. "You I would trust," she said, so low he thought he had misheard.

"What?"

"You I would trust." She wasn't looking at him, she was regarding her hands, worrying the folds of her gown.

She wanted him to go with her to the creek, where she would bathe. His ears were actually ringing.

Seduction or entrapment? "You want me to guard you while you shed your clothes and bathe naked?"

"N-no, I mean, y-yes."