The Red Wolf's Prize (12 page)

“No, Serena. I’ll not let you go, not before I show you what
lies between us. What you seek to deny. The reason for your flight. You cannot
bear to want me, a Norman, can you?”

Before she could think to move, his lips were upon hers. She
jerked her head away only to have him take her hands in his and raise them
above her head. He took both her hands into one of his and grasped her chin
with the other, forcing her to face him while she was pinned beneath his long
muscled body.

The kiss was punishing. His tongue invaded her mouth,
compelling her to accept him. Her body responded, her breasts sensitive to the
weight of his powerful chest and her senses reeling from his warmth and his
masculine scent, now so familiar. He lifted his mouth from hers, and leaving
her gasping, rained kisses down her neck. He murmured words in French she could
not discern, his voice a low seductive growl.

When his teeth grazed the base of her neck she moaned. He
slid his hand to her breast where his touch rendered her nipple sensitive
beyond enduring.

She could not help but reach her fingers to the thick
chestnut waves of his hair.

His palm swept beneath her short tunic to cover her naked
breast and she quivered as her nipples reacted, producing a tingling sensation
that echoed through her body. His kiss was deep, his tongue moving like a
flame, branding her as his. In spite of the all-consuming heat from their
passion, she shivered as an unfamiliar ache arose in her most intimate flesh.

Overcome by the new sensations, every soft curve of hers
embraced his hard body. He continued to kiss her while settling his lower body
between her thighs. Moving his hips with a slow rocking motion, she was
suddenly aware of his hard shaft pressing against her woman’s center, demanding
to claim what was his.

She knew enough about the mating of men and women to know
his intent. “Nay!” she shouted. With her hands, she pushed against him with all
of her strength, squirming to be free.

“You only entice me with your movements, Serena.” The depth
and huskiness of his voice told her he spoke truth. His lips brushed her ear.

Ignoring her protests, he pressed warm kisses to her neck
just beneath her ear. Without meaning to, she bent her head to his, melting
with the touch of his lips on her skin.

He raised his head. “Do you see how we are together, Serena?
You have always been mine. You were given to me afore I ever came to Talisand.
And now I will have you as my wife.”

“But I will not have you!” Serena struggled to find the will
to match her actions to her words, but her resolve was fading with his
whispered words of love and his seductive movements.

She gripped his hair to pull him from her, but he kissed her
again and soon her hands threaded through his thick locks and she ceased
fighting and allowed her body to respond fully to his. She wrapped her arms
around him and held onto his strength.

The Red Wolf moved his hands to the open laces of her tunic
and then to her linen shirt, moving the cloth aside to expose her breasts to
his eyes. “You are beautiful, Serena, as I imagined you would be.” He forced
another sigh from her when he cupped her naked breast and the warmth of his
hand made her pull him closer.

Taking her nipple into his mouth, he gently sucked.

She shivered, then sighed. “Nay…” But it was only a weak
plea.

Suddenly he rose up on his elbows. “Look at me, Serena.” Her
eyes fluttered open. In his silvered eyes she saw unrestrained passion. “You
belong to me by the king’s decree. Why do you not give to me what is mine to
take?”

“Your king, not mine,” she protested. Then looking away,
“Take another for your wife.”

“Nay. I wanted you as my leman ere I knew you were my bride,
and I intend to have you and no other.”

He bent his head to her breast, his tongue stroked her
nipple, leaving her boneless and craving more. Against his strength, her weak
efforts to resist availed little. In her woman’s flesh the ache grew demanding.

His hand slid down to her braies and quickly stripped them
down. The feel of his searching hand on the bare skin of her thigh was both
alarming and enticing. He was moving ever closer to—

She panicked. “You would force me?” she asked breathlessly
knowing only his own rules could stop him now.

At her words, he stilled, hovering over her, his breathing
rapid as he stared into her eyes. Then, with sudden force, he pushed from her
and sat back on his knees, breathing hard. He ran his hand through his hair.

“Though you say me nay, Serena, your body tells me something
else.”

“I am an innocent. You would seduce me against my will?”

“I would make you my wife in truth. For that is what you
will be, no matter your anger at being wed to a Norman. You are mine by right.”
He let out a breath in a deep sigh. “But I would not take you here upon the
hard ground. Talisand has beds enough. And you and I will find pleasure in
them, have no doubt.”

Still flushed with the pleasure he had called forth from her
innocent flesh, Serena experienced a wave of relief. Every time he touched her,
whether as Sarah or as Serena, he created a desire for more. His words only
made clear how close she had come to submitting. How much she already had.

* * *

Renaud looked down at his bride where she sat upon the grass
pulling her clothing together. He was glad her words had brought a halt to his
fevered consummation. Her eyes told him she was bewildered by her own reaction.
Serena had meant to fight, he knew, but was defeated by the passion between
them. A passion that pleased him. If that is all they had to begin their
marriage, he was content. It was more than most marriages of state had when
they began. He would use it to hold her. But he would not take her here, even
though she was his to take. He wanted the memory of their first joining to be a
pleasant one.

“I will give you time to get used to the idea but know this,
Serena: it will not be long. Your resistance and your deception are at an end,
my lady.” The irony of it was that while his rules kept him from forcing the
servant girl Sarah, a wife was another matter.

He retrieved the rabbits Serena had killed, and her seax,
fixing them to the saddle on the white palfrey he found standing among the
trees. Whistling for his horse, he waited only a moment before Belasco entered
the clearing and nuzzled his master’s shoulder. Renaud reached for the satchel
of food tied to the saddle.

“Here,” he said handing her some dried venison. “Eat. You
must be hungry if you are hunting. But I do not want to take time to cook the
rabbits now.”

With a look of resignation, she took the dried deer meat and
chewed in silence.

“It was your speed with the bow that told me you were Lady
Serena. You hid well your skill in the shooting match, but not so well I did
not think something amiss.”

He tied the reins of her white mare to Belasco’s saddle
while continuing to glance at her where she sat upon the ground. Even with her
wet plait, now half brown and half flaxen, and her disheveled state, she was
beautiful and the knowledge that in finding her he had found both the servant
girl he desired and the woman promised to him produced a feeling of deep satisfaction.
A wife and a leman in one woman, and in one day. Even his anger at her
deception could not destroy his joy at so great a find.

Serena slowly rose, and without a word or a glance at him,
walked toward her horse as if in a daze. He reached for her arm and pulled her
toward Belasco.

Defiantly, she wrenched away. “I can ride my own horse!”

“Nay, you’ll ride with me. I want you close.” In truth, he
did not want to be so far from her he could not touch her.

He lifted her to his saddle and leapt up behind her,
repositioning her onto his lap. She kept her back stiff, even when he drew her
body against his chest.

Taking the reins in his free hand, he swung Belasco toward
the south and Talisand, urging the stallion to a fast pace with his knees.
Serena looked straight ahead, her hand clenched on the pommel of the saddle.

He bent his mouth to her ear. “Serena, you must accept the
truth of it. England is conquered, your lands are conquered, and you are
conquered. God must have willed it for William has prevailed, as have I. He is
king by conquest as I am your lord. You will become my wife and bear my sons.
You are mine as Talisand is mine.”

She tensed against him keeping her gaze fixed ahead as she
spoke. “You may have conquered my lands, my lord, and I may be forced to birth
your sons, but I shall never be content to be a Norman’s wife. I…I hate you!”

“Nay, Serena, I think not. You hate only yourself for
wanting me. Mayhap one day you will even be content to belong to me.”

“You are wrong!” She spit out the words with great force, as
if trying to convince herself they were true.

He experienced a sudden twinge of remorse seeing the girl’s
broken spirit. She had tried so hard to escape her fate. A proud, courageous
woman who loved her people. As she had told him the first day they met, she
would have fought alongside her father had she been a son. But she had seen him
with her people and had to know he would not treat them ill.

She might hate what he represented, but she could not deny
what lay between them. He was certain if he touched her again, as he intended
to, she would respond as she had before. Only next time he would not rein in
his passion. He would make her his in all ways.

He had not expected to find a woman of such fire in the
English maiden William had given him, but he was glad of it. Their winter
nights would be warm and their children would be many and strong.

In one sweep of his arm, Renaud wrapped his cloak about her
and held her fast, declaring his intention to possess and protect what was his.
Her days of hiding from him were over.

The Lady of Talisand was coming home.

Serena woke to the movement of the horse beneath her and the
Red Wolf shouting orders as they rode into the yard. Sometime during the long
ride back, she had fallen asleep against his warm chest where his strong arm
now held her. For hours she had fought to stay awake as the knight drove his
horse at a maddening pace. Finally exhausted, she had succumbed to the sweet
oblivion of sleep. Now fully awake, she sat up to see they had reined in before
the manor where a crowd was gathering to greet them.

The Red Wolf dismounted and reached for her. She did not
fight him when his hands circled her waist and he lifted her down, but when he
again swept her up into his arms, she protested. “Put me down! I can walk.”

“Not just yet,” the Red Wolf replied stonily. Then to Eric,
“See to the horses, lad. A good rub down and oats. It was a long ride home and
Belasco did well.”

“Aye, m’lord,” said the boy, accepting the reins.

Serena twisted in the arms of the Red Wolf, embarrassed at
being treated like an errant child in front of her people who watched with
curious eyes.

Jamie ran up to his master, smiled at her, and awaited his
lord’s instructions. Though his blond curls were in disarray, Jamie now wore
with pride the dark blue tunic displaying a snarling red wolf.

“Jamie,” the Red Wolf looked down at his page, “see that
Maggie gets the rabbits.”

“Yea, sir, I will. Welcome back, m’lord.”

Serena could feel the tension in the Norman’s body as he
held her. She gave up struggling, realizing he intended to carry her into the
manor whether she liked it or no. The Norman knights who had come to greet
their returning lord gazed intently at the woman in his arms who was dressed
like a Welshman. Serena’s plait was under the cloak he’d wrapped around her, so
none yet observed the change in the color of her hair. They knew only what they
observed: the maid Sarah had tried to run away disguised as a boy, and had been
found by their lord who was now carrying her close to his chest. She could only
imagine what they were thinking took place in the woods.

With her in his arms, the Red Wolf closed the short distance
to the manor’s door. She spotted Rhodri standing to one side, his clothes
soiled as if he, too, had been in the woods. He watched her with concern in his
dark eyes. Where had he been? Had he followed the Red Wolf? Next to Rhodri
stood a few of Talisand’s women who looked at her with questioning eyes. She
wondered, as mayhap some of them did, in what manner she had returned?
Prisoner? Bride? Or both?

The Red Wolf carried her inside and dumped her onto the
bench. She shot him a glare just as Maggie rushed to meet them.

“M’lord?” the housekeeper said, a worried look on her face
as her gaze shifted from the Red Wolf to Serena. Both were wearing a scowl.

“See that your lady has a bath and something to eat,” he
ordered shortly.

A startled look crossed the housekeeper’s face as
recognition dawned. “Yea, m’lord.” Maggie’s eyes took in Serena’s bedraggled
appearance. “Come, m’lady, I’ll see to ye meself.” Maggie wrapped a comforting
arm around her and led her toward the stairs.

“So he knows, does he?” Maggie whispered.

“Aye.” Serena let out a sigh. She was tired but her desire
to fight was changing into a new resolve. It was no use fighting the
inevitable. Mayhap it was time to resume her position as the Lady of Talisand
even if she had to become a Norman’s wife to do it.

They started up the stairs, and from behind them, the Red
Wolf shouted to Maggie, “See that her hair is washed and that dreadful color of
dirt gone from it. I will have a tray sent up.”

Maggie looked over her shoulder. “Yea, m’lord.”

Nearly to the top of the stairs, Serena heard the Red Wolf
order Sir Niel to guard her door.

So it was to be a prisoner, after all.

* * *

Renaud took a deep drink of his wine, forcing himself to calm
as the evening meal commenced. He was fighting exhaustion but he was pleased
his bride was now in her chamber behind a guarded door.

Sitting on his left, Geoff speared a large piece of venison
on the point of his eating knife. “Is it true?” he asked, holding the meat
before his mouth. “You have found not only Sarah, but your bride?” At Renaud’s
nod, he continued, “I can scarce believe it, Ren. All this time Lady Serena
living among us. I must say, she fooled me. I failed to recognize the lady in
the servant’s garb.”

“As did I,” Renaud muttered as he circled his goblet with
his hand. Something was nagging at him, a thought that had not left him since
he had nearly taken her at the edge of the stream. She was clever in deceiving
him, disguised first as a maid and then as a lad. On the ride home she had
fallen asleep, curled against him like a protected child. But she was no child.
She was a woman full grown and he could not hold her without his body stirring.
He had wanted the violet-eyed beauty since the day he had first seen her, and
now she was returned as his bride. One day she would be the mother of his sons,
would she prefer it or no. Still, he has no illusions. She might try and escape
again if she could. The desire he had awakened in her, he was certain, did not
alter her feelings for Normans. He had to remember the battle was not over.

“Why are you so sullen?” Geoff needled. “This sudden turn of
events should please you.” The blond knight snatched the venison off the knife
with his teeth.

“Aye, it does, but I’ll not celebrate the marriage just yet.
Something tells me the fight for the lady’s hand is not over. I cannot trust
her, Geoff. As you observed yourself, the woman has only disdain for Normans.
And she is clever at escape. Hence, I have posted Sir Niel at her door. I want
her watched at all times Mayhap the next days will disclose her intent. I
expect she may yet try to flee.”

Renaud gazed about the room. Some of his knights still
lingered over their meal. Others diced or played
échecs
,
the game
of skill with carved pieces, occasionally letting out a yell when one won a
round. The red-haired serving girl he recognized as Maggie’s daughter was
smiling at Sir Maurin as she filled his tankard with ale, and the knight smiled
back. Mayhap there would be more weddings celebrated ere midwinter was upon
them.

“Would it help to recall that you need no priest’s blessing
to claim what William has given you, Ren?”

“That may be, but I would have our marriage blessed by the
church. Best send for the priest, or the bishop, if near. I want the people to
know we are wed according to God’s law, not just William’s command.”

“Have you forgotten? Father Bernard left some time ago, not to
return for a fortnight. Sarah…that is, Lady Serena said he is seeing to the
needs of other villages. And the nearest bishop is Ealdred, Archbishop of York
to the east.”

“Ah, so it is. I remember now, the chapel was missing a
priest. Mayhap ’twould be best if I await his return. Still, I would keep her
guarded until the marriage ceremony, no matter she shares my bed. Tell the men
she may have free run of the manor and the yard as long as her movements are
watched. She may not ride unescorted.”

“Get her with child and she will nay travel far.”

“’Tis my plan.” Renaud had thought of little else on his
ride back to Talisand. Now that he had his bride, he need not woo the servant
girl. And he wanted no other. Serena had ruined him for any other woman. Geoff
and Sir Maurin were not the only knights at Talisand who were besotted with
English women. But Renaud knew well he would have to hide his weakness for his
bride. If she were not loyal, she could do him great harm.

He drank deeply of his wine and pushed back from the table,
bidding Geoff a good night. He was barely able to keep his eyes open, yet he
was eager to see the lady who had so long eluded him. Likely, she was still
angry with her Norman captor. He was angry as well for her deceit had disturbed
him.

As he dragged his tired body from the hall, Maugris
intercepted him at the bottom of the stairs.

“My lord, I understand the Lady of Talisand has returned…is
it so?”

“Yea, I hunted the servant girl, Sarah, but found the Lady
Serena. It seems she has been deceiving all of us.” Renaud studied the wise
one’s face and realized from his knowing smile he had been aware.

“’Twas nimble witted, you must admit,” the old man said with
amusement dancing in his ancient blue eyes. “Me thinks she is a worthy mate for
the Red Wolf.”

“I did not find her behavior praiseworthy, wise one. Though
I am certain it brought smiles to the faces of the villeins. They knew, all of
them. To fool the Normans who went about their business unaware the lady of the
manor was living under their noses as a mere servant must have amused them. And
you, my
own
advisor—you knew, yet did not tell me!”

Maugris’s smile faded. “No, I did not. I knew from my vision
it was you who had to find the jewel among the stones. And I had confidence you
would find her, though you had to reason it on your own if you were to be her
mate. Think, my lord. She was angry and afraid, and only fled for her honor and
that of the other maidens. Do you not remember?”

“Aye, I remember the women.” Renaud could not find fault
with the servant girls who had fled that first day. Mayhap Serena was only
doing what she thought was right. But when she learned he would be honorable
toward her people, she had not revealed herself. Instead, she had sought to
escape again.

The old man’s blue eyes stared at Renaud. “You have but to
hold her close, my lord, and she will be yours.”

“Oh, I intend to do that, Maugris.” Renaud’s gaze traveled
up the stairs. “Very close.”

“I will leave you then to your bride.” Maugris grinned and
headed toward the hall.

Renaud could still hear the sounds of his men indulging in
their entertainments but he had no tolerance for games or small talk this
night. His head was pounding, and he was more exhausted than he could remember
being. But he still had one last task.

Climbing the stairs to Serena’s chamber, he sent Sir Niel to
his dinner and to his pallet. Renaud entered to find the room dark, save for
one candle. He recognized the flowery scent and chided himself for not
identifying it before. It was
her
scent.

Flickering golden light bathed the lone figure curled up on
the furs at the end of the bed. Dressed, from all appearances, only in a white
robe, her eyes were closed and her head rested on her hand. A cloth was clasped
in her other hand. She must have fallen asleep while drying her hair.

She had the face of an angel with delicate features, ivory
skin and rose-colored lips. Her long flaxen hair fell around her, glistening in
the candlelight, a crowning glory so magnificent it could have hidden wings had
she possessed them. Certainly his woman, soon his bride, was an otherworldly
creature. Fierce with a bow, quick with her tongue and the voice of heaven in
her throat when she sang. And curves to entice the most monkish of knights. No
man, be he warrior priest or no, could resist her when she lay like this.

William had given him no ordinary woman. Renaud had only to
claim her.

Quietly he approached the sleeping girl and lifted her into
his arms. She stirred but did not wake as he carried her to his own chamber,
her pale hair falling over his arm nearly to the floor.

Laying her down on his bed, her robe fell open revealing the
full breasts he had feasted upon next to the stream. His manhood stirred.
Brushing her long silvered hair to one side, he shed his clothes and climbed
into the bed to lie beside her, pulling her body into the curve of his own. He
drew the cover over them and his body responded to her softness, his aroused
flesh eager to sink into her sheath. Serena softly moaned in her sleep as he
cupped a warm breast. But it was more than lust he felt. He wanted to protect
her, to care for her, feelings he’d never had for another woman.

He doubted he had won her fully. Mayhap their sons would
bind her to him, as the king’s decree could not.

Renaud had intended to wake her to his lovemaking, but he
was so exhausted after riding hard without sleep for so long, his last waking
thought was to shut his eyes for a few minutes. Then he would wake and claim
his bride.

* * *

A pounding on the door woke Serena from a deep sleep.

Still groggy, she heard a voice shout, “My lord, a messenger
from the king!”

The arm that held her slipped away and the bed cushion
beneath her was jostled, making Serena realize she was not alone. The one
sleeping next to her lifted from the bed. She opened her eyes, surprised to see
she was in the lord’s chamber—and in the Red Wolf’s bed. She caught only a
glimpse of his naked form as he reached for a dark blue robe.

His body was that of a warrior, his powerful muscles beneath
his skin rippling as he moved. As she had observed when she’d helped him with
his bath, his back was bronze to his waist. But his muscled buttocks and long
legs were a lighter shade. A man to make any maiden blush.

She’d not seen the scars on his midsection before. So, he
had not always fought wearing mail.

Donning his robe, he opened the door a slit. What she could
see of Sir Geoffroi’s face bore a grave expression. “The king summons you,” he
said to the Red Wolf. “His messenger awaits below.”

“I’ll join you as soon as I am clothed.”

The Red Wolf closed the door and turned. Serena pulled the
covers under her chin and kept her eyes on his face.

“My lady,” he said, taking off his robe. He seemed entirely
comfortable in just his skin. “I would we had this morning to lie abed and become
better acquainted, but as you heard, I am summoned. The consummation of our
marriage must wait upon the king’s needs.” Reaching for his hosen, linen shirt
and tunic, he leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead.