Risk Everything (16 page)

“None that ye know of, mayhap.” Meghan huffed in disbelief. “From the looks of him, he is far too randy not to have a stream of women for his bedsport.”

“Aye. He has no lack of willing lasses. But a fortnight ago, he returned late of an evening and entered his solar. Not a minute later, I heard a woman wailing in his room.”

“He is cruel with his lovemaking?” Meghan shuddered at the thought. The man was far too large, in body and in his male organs. If not gentle, he would hurt a lass in mating with her.

Ede looked shocked at the question. “Oh, nay. Never have I seen him be cruel to a lass.” She stopped and her face flushed. “Not until he brought you to Rimsdale.”

“If not for pain, for what reason did the lass wail?”

Ede blushed. “I opened my door but a crack. Enough to see she stood on the landing bare as the day she was birthed.”

“He threw an unclothed lass out of his room?” Meghan’s lips curled in disgust. Had she been there, Rolf would have felt the flat of her sword across his nether parts.

“He didna ask her there.” Ede shrugged as she pulled back the bedcovers. “From what I could hear, he was bone tired from his vigil in the woods waiting for . . .” Her voice trailed off, and her face flushed fiery red.

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“Aye. He spied to learn my habits.” Meghan’s eyes narrowed to slits as she eyed the door, wishing she had belted him a good one.

“He found the lass in his bed. She has tried to entice him to mate with her ever since his wife, uh, died.”

“Did he not find her bonny?” Meghan was curious now.

“Oh, aye. She was pretty enough. Mayhap he was too weary for play between the sheets.”

“Ha. From the looks of his bulging breeches, he’s ne’er too weary.” Meghan shrugged. “More likely she smelled rank. He has a dislike of unclean women.”

Once, at the Norman court, she had seen Rolf back away from Lady Delphine who always smelled sour and wore clothing that needed more than a day or two of airing.

Meghan’s chest ached recalling how he had taken every occasion to put his face close to her own hair and inhale deeply, thinking she didna note it.

As they prepared for bed, they fell silent and were soon fast asleep.

Rolf did not sleep, though, but paced the floor in his solar as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had underestimated Meghan’s courage that day. ’Twas not often he misjudged a foe. Strange he should think on her as such. In his dreams, she was far from an opponent. Nay. He deluded himself. She was an opponent rightly enough. Though not one of the killing kind. One he pursued with cunning and vigor, who eluded him until he brought her to heel. Naked. In his bed sprawled beneath him, his weight pinning her there. Where she belonged.

Such thoughts caused him to fidget and ache with longing.

Had he a smidgeon of sense, he would ease his tension on one of the willing lasses asleep below. He would but for the fact they would not do.

None but Meghan could ease his lust.

Guilt gnawed at his soul. His heart ached for what he was about to do. She bore no guilt in her brother’s treachery. Why had he chosen this form of revenge? Mayhap ’twas because

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of Meghan herself? To have her as his own? He willed the cold room to soothe his heated flesh. It didna work.

“Satan’s puckered arse!” He stomped across the chilly floor to the window opening and peered out at the star-filled sky.

Puffs of air stroked over him like icy fingers. His gaze lowered, and he cursed again in disgust. Instead of withering in the frigid air, the moon’s pale light showed his rampant tarse stood erect as a warrior’s pike.

Meghan would not succumb with ease to his plans. What a battle he had on his hands. Pride wouldna let her be any man’s leman. He must break her as he would a fine-blooded destrier.

Aye. A destrier. Never a placid mare but a rare and high-strung battle horse. He would hold tight to the reins, keep her locked between his legs and ride her until she became resigned to him as her master. Unease swept him. After all was done, would she be a woman honed to be a perfect mate? Or would she be but an empty shell of herself ?

Of all the women he had met in his travels, he wanted only Meghan to birth his bairn. His seed planted in her body would yield a son even kings would envy. Her courage, her honesty, her intrepid personality, her honor, the way she challenged him mentally and physically, all these qualities made him admire her more than any woman on earth. For all these traits, he chose her to replace the bairn her brother took from him.

Recalling a time when all he wanted from Meghan was love, a sharp pain shot through his chest.

Bile scorched his throat. To give him what he demanded, he must needs break her. She would never bend. When all was done and she learned everything, would hate for him destroy her? Grasping a flagon of ale, he drank deep.

’Twas a long night.

Afore first light, a rough scraping sound roused Meghan.

’Twas something with four legs, not two, outside their door.

Sliding from the bed so as not to wake Ede, she opened the door enough for Ugsome to squeeze through. As he whined

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and licked at her hand, she stroked the coarse hair on his battle-scarred face.

“Shh, now. Ye dinna want to wake everyone. Sit while I dress,” she whispered. Ugsome sat back on his haunches and thumped his tail on the floor, a happy look in his eyes.

“Meghan? Is someone there?” Ede’s sleepy voice came from across the room. The bed ropes squeaked as she climbed out of bed.

“ ’Tis my four-legged guard.” Meghan put two fingers to her lips and Ugsome obliged with a fierce growl. A pity you couldna so easily train a man. But then, such a man wouldna be worth the trouble.

They dressed and were ready to go below when a sharp knock sounded on the door. Closest, Ede opened it. She stepped back, her brows lifted in surprise.

Rolf ’s powerful, larger-than-life body filled the doorframe.

His gaze swept past her to stop on Meghan.

“Come. I would have you break your fast with me.” He snapped the order at her.

Meghan frowned. Why was he so irritable this morn? Dark circles rimmed his eyes. If he scowled a bit harder, his eyebrows would blend together. Eyeing her, his lips tightened.

Good. If men’s clothing made her unappealing, all the better.

Expecting him to demand she change, he surprised her and did not say a word.

She nodded and passed through the doorway afore Ede. He courteously waited until Ede also exited. Placing her right forefinger on her chin, Meghan signaled Ugsome to follow her and hastened down the stairwell. Her lips pressed tight together trying to stifle a grin.

Entering the great hall, she ignored the curious looks and whispers. Had everyone in this blasted castle heard him pound up the stairs last eve? From the giggled remarks about his words outside her chamber door, they apparently all had ears like elves too.

“Good day to ye, Garith,” she said. “If ye have time, may-

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hap ye could walk with me outside this morn? I fear Ugsome will attack me if I attempt to go alone.”

Garith drew himself up to sit tall beside her. He nodded, solemn, and spoke to his brother. “Rolf, do you approve?”

“Aye. She may walk about, but you will not let her out of your sight.” He stared hard at the young man and waited until Garith nodded. He filled a wooden bowl with porridge and placed it in front of Meghan, along with a pitcher of cream and a small pot of honey.

Meghan studied him through lowered lashes as she murmured her thanks. Rolf was being considerate. Why? When he placed a hot bannock beside her bowl, her eyes narrowed.

What was he up to? Last eve he had treated her like a common slattern, now this morn he played the chivalrous knight?

“How spent you the night?” Rolf took a bite of his scone, and honey glistened on his lips.

Meghan spotted the sweetness spilled here. She remembered the feel of those lips on her own, hard and punishing, then soft and soothing. The tip of her tongue came out to dampen her lips. She noted the corners of his mouth twitch.

She glanced up. The gleam in his eyes told her he had drib-bled the honey apurpose!

She thrust out her chin and glared at him. “I slept very well. Ye dinna look to have done the same. Yer conscience botherin’ ye, mayhap?”

His eyes blazed with heat as his gaze swept over her, slow and intimate. “Nay. Not a whit. I spent the night thinkin’ on the bedsport we will have. After a night of hard ridin’, I doubt not you will sleep late each morn.”

“I doubt not
ye
will sleep
verra
late the first morn.” She sniffed and her eyes flashed as she added, “Mayhap never to awake again.” To her disgust, he chuckled.

“You prefer to do the ridin’ then, Meghan? Were your lovers so inept you had the need to set the pace?” He sighed and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Let it not be said I dinna allow a woman her pleasure, but first we will do it my way.”

He had not said lover, but lovers! How dare he talk to her

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like she was a trollop? Her gaze spied the closest thing to hand. The pot of honey.

He captured her hand. “Dinna think on it, Meghan.”

“Release me,” she demanded.

“When you behave as I wish. Not a moment before.”

Meghan ignored his enticing scent as she tried to yank away. His grip tightened on her hand and kept it clamped to the table. She could not move it even a wee bit.

“Horse’s arse,” she shouted. She grabbed for the cold pitcher of milk with her free hand.

Rolf captured it also and shifted to face her. His expression darkened. The veins in his neck stood out in livid ridges. He switched both her hands to his own big, steel-fingered one.

He did not speak but narrowed his eyes to glare into hers. Of a sudden, the room was deathly quiet.

“You will
not
call me a horse’s arse or any such thing again.” He ground out the words between clenched teeth as his face flushed red with rage.

“You tell her, Rolf. The lass needs tamin’, she does,” a man shouted from across the room.

“Ye are breakin’ my hands.” She tugged hard to no avail.

“Let me go or so help me, I will bury the first blade I find in yer chest.” Her eyes blazed murderously at him.

He bounded up and jerked her to her feet, then pinned her arms to her side and pressed her tight against him.

“Not until my own weapon is buried deep within you. ’Tis what you are lackin’. The fight will soon go out of you then.”

The hall echoed with hoots and hollers of advice.

“Show the lass that wearin’ a man’s breeches will do her no good when she is spread beneath ye, Rolf.”

“Keep her abed, man. There be nothin’ like a good swiving to tame a lass.” Another man chortled, an avid gleam in his eyes. He hitched the belted plaid at his waist higher.

“Keep yer tongues behind yer teeth, churls,” Meghan blazed at them furiously. “I am a highborn lady, not a common serf to be taken at the master’s will.”

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“Highborn or no, you will be my leman in one night’s time.”

Rolf lowered his head to capture her lips. Meghan’s knee came up and slammed into his groin. Not as hard as she had wished. He held her too close. Hard enough, though, that he released her. She tore out of his grasp and ran, making it to the door.

Rolf whirled her around with such speed her hair flew about her.

“Ne’er will you get away with that again.” His steely glare held her gaze prisoner. “If you dare try, I will swive you on the spot. Here. In everyone’s sight.”

His probing kiss showed her she had failed to dampen his ardor.

He released her at last. Meghan’s eyes flashed with defiance as she scrubbed her sleeve across her mouth. Wordless, she spun on her heels. Her long strides carried her to the door of the castle with Ugsome padding beside her.

Garith, his face red with shame, caught up to her in the front bailey. Though he was ten and three and could not be an innocent about carnal matters, his brother’s behavior to a lady had surely challenged his ideas of chivalry. She felt pangs of guilt knowing she contributed to his distress. The young man had en-dured enough turmoil in these last years. He should not need to question his belief in the rightness of Rolf’s decisions.

She swallowed and took a deep breath, wanting to calm her racing heart. “Though we have not met in many years, yer brother and I have had many clashes afore, Garith.”

“Aye. I felt that between you.” He kicked a pebble and sent it skittering across the ground. His face flushed, and he chewed on his lower lip.

“ ’Tis why his actions are so harsh now. Had I been any other lady, he wouldna treat me thus.”

She raised her hand, beckoning Ugsome, who scurried over to pad along between them as they walked into the outer bailey. She reached down and patted the beast’s head, urging it

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closer to Garith’s hand. The faithful dog nuzzled the boy with his wet nose.

Garith chuckled and tugged the dog’s ear. “I think Ugsome likes you.” He grinned up at her.

“Likes me? Aye. Sure he does. And when he growls and snarls, ’tis affection he is showin’?” Meghan smiled down at the boy.

They were fast approaching the small huts built along the outer curtain wall. Her eyes searched until she spied the long building where the blacksmith worked with the armorer and where the bow maker and fletcher combined their work areas.

Did they store weapons there of a night, awaiting their attention the next morn?

Garith raised his right eyebrow. “I have noted these past two days that Ugsome snarls whene’er you touch your lips.”

“He didna snarl when I wiped my lips but minutes ago, did he?”

“Nay.” The boy chuckled. “You wiped them with your sleeve. You didna touch your hand to your lips as you did on times afore.”

Meghan grinned. “What else has yer quick eye told you?”

“That each time you and my brother, uh, quibble, he canna keep his hands from you.”