The Saxon Bride (The Norman Conquest Series) (26 page)

When he brought her to the pinnacle, he placed his hands on either side of her body. She opened her eyes
.

"Let me see your pleasure."

She wet her lips, fighting to keep her eyes on him as he drove her further and harder than he had ever done before. Pleasure quivered through her in waves. With purpose he thrust into her, prolonging her ecstasy, his eyes still on her face.

"You are my life, Rowena. I will love you until there are no more days left for me on this earth."

Tears of happiness slipped down her cheeks at his words.

"I love you
," Rowena whispered.

John
dipped his head and she crested with him as he drove home, surely touching her womb. He shuddered and dropped beside her.

She settled against his chest and sighed
.

"May a child be
conceived this night."

A child for them to share. The loss of their daughter was still heavy but the hope for a new life gave her strength.

"Aye." She covered her abdomen with her hand. "It must be so."

He kissed the top of her head, caressing her back, and she snuggled into his chest.

Thoughts crowded in her mind, demanding her attention, and she tried to dismiss them to focus on the feel of his hand as he caressed her arms. It was all for naught.

"My love, let me ask you one thing."

"Only one?" Her voice was contented and sleepy. "Are your thoughts racing as well?"

"
Well, I wondered what it was William actually talked to you about."

"He could only go on and on about what a great catch you are
, and how lucky I am to be married to good Norman stock."

John paused
mid-stroke but remained silent. So, she continued, "He spoke of the pride of the Normans and how you come from a long line of good fighters and fertile men." She sensed the tension in him but knew she had to ask. "Do you have other children?"

"No. Why would you ask that?"

"Abigail had said as much."

John sighed loudly with his frust
ration. "That woman knows naught but to serve her own purposes." He kissed Rowena’s forehead with great reverence. "I am sorry that she bothered you in my absence."

Rowena's relief was complete. "So you have no ties to her or great love
for her?"

"
No
. I thought to never see her again when I left Normandy."

"Was she your mistress?"

"Not the word I would choose and not for lack of trying on her part, even sneaking into my bed to get what she wanted." He ducked his head. "I'm sorry to admit she was occasionally successful. No, I barely knew her but allowed her to stay at my home because I had pity for her. She had nowhere else to go."

"Then the king's comments perplex me.
Does he not know your situation?"

"Aye, he knows it well enough."

"Do you think he knows more than he has said?"

"It would not be the first time."

"Oh." She tipped her head back to better see his face. "He asked me about Leofrid."

"He asked me about him as well."

"Forgive me, John, but I did not tell him what had transpired."

She nibbled on her lip
when he didn't answer immediately. Would he be mad that she did not tell the king everything she knew?

"I am
glad you did not tell him. I've come to a decision."

There was a sudden tightness in her gut. She loved her cousin but he could not be allowed to hurt John. Perhaps if she talked to Leofrid directly, he would see that. No. He was a Godwinson. There would be no talking to him
.

"I've
decided it would be best to ship Leofrid to Ireland."

S
he gasped, sitting up more, the bed creaking with her movement. "My thanks, John, for sparing his life."

"
But he must agree to leave willingly, although under guard, and never to return. That is the price for his freedom. Oh, and he must take Abigail with him."

She narrowed her eyes. "You would saddle him with a woman like that?"

"I believe it is a just punishment. That way she can cause no further problems here."

Rowena
frowned as if deep in thought, smiled down at him before kissing him, and said, "That is a sound decision. I will look to you to make these decisions...and then I will let you know what I think of them."

H
is eyebrows shot up, and she struggled not to laugh at the comical look of surprise. "Oh, is that the way of it then?"

"That is the way of it."

The end
.

Thank you for taking your valuable time to read my latest novel. Below, you will find links to my website as well as my email address. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this and other novels. I love interacting with my readers!

I have wanted to be a writer since the sixth grade. My first story was a mystery and I discovered that my classmates loved it and kept them guessing. I was a voracious reader, even at a young age, and loved the history in the novels I picked up. I was so enthralled with that history that I decided to get my MA in History. The early medieval period is my favorite, as you can tell from the novels I write.

Although all my works are fiction, I often like to incorporate authentic places, events, and people to increase the reader’s enjoyment. One of the more valuable lessons I have learned as a writer is the importance of using real history with the flair of artistic license. You’ll discover a world of fiction wrapped around historical people and events! I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I delight in writing them.

I live in New England with my husband, two cats and a yellow Labrador named Caledonia.

You can connect with me
online:

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Email:
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.

Please enjoy these bonus chapters from The Bruised Thistle, the first in The Order of the Scottish Thistle Series.

Ashley

Dalmally, Scotland 1149

“Where have you been?” Iseabail bristled with irritation at having waited nigh an hour for her brothers’ arrival. Trying to look busy alone in an open field was a challenge, especially with the cool autumn wind stinging her exposed skin.

“Getting supplies,” Iain answered readily enough, but he didn’t sound himself.

Their little brother Calum stood at his elbow, nodding his red head a touch too eagerly.

She glanced between them as her suspicions rose. They were hiding something. “What is wrong?” Iain usually took great care with his appearance, but today he was ill-kempt. His thick dark hair hung limp around his face, and his brown eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. Her irritation shifted to concern. “Are you not well?”

“Well enough. See what we’ve brought?” Iain’s tone brooked no discussion.

Iseabail allowed him to distract her with the large basket Calum was carrying. He placed it on the ground and lifted the lid. All manner of cloths, containers, and herbing accoutrements greeted them. Iain pushed this aside to reach beneath and lift the false bottom, showing a good array of cheese, breads, and dried meat for their trip.

A shiver ran down her spine, but she smiled up at him. “Good. We are ready then.”

Ready to leave the only home they had ever known, the overwhelming sadness caught her off-guard. She forced herself to remember the abuses they had suffered at the hands of their powerful uncle, the new laird of
their
lands. What he had subjected her to as a female was the most horrendous of all.

She clenched her jaw in determination. “Shall we go?”

“Iseabail.” Iain’s face was unreadable, but she sensed his hesitation. “I cannot go.”

His words knocked the wind out of her. The thought of having to return to the hell she had been enduring left her lightheaded.

She shook her head in denial. “No, Iain, I cannot…” She corrected herself, “
we
cannot go back.” Her brothers did not know about their uncle’s abuse. There were no visible signs. “We cannot. We must make our escape now, while he is away from the castle.”

Iain’s eyes rounded with sadness and fine lines creased his forehead.

Iseabail had a terrible sense of foreboding, and the whisper of hope she had been nurturing began to dissipate. The idea of escape had come up so suddenly, yet they had all agreed straight away. Their uncle’s plans to be gone for a few days gave them the perfect opportunity, and it was one they could not afford to waste. They needed help ousting Uncle Henry from their lands. Not only was he ignoring their father’s last will and testament, his brutal treatment of the local clansmen had weakened them until their fear would not allow them to stand against him. Assistance from those outside the powerful Englishman’s control was their only hope.

Iain firmed his shoulders, a determined set to his handsome face. “
We
will not return. You and Calum will travel on without me.”

Fear slammed into her chest, and it became hard to breathe. “What do you mean? We cannot go alone. It is not safe.”

Iain held her gaze and spoke clearly. “This may be our only chance to go for help. I will stay behind to see that no one follows, and then I will join you.”

The look that passed between Iain and Calum made her throat tighten. Something did not seem right. “When will you come?”

“When I know it is safe and you are not followed.” Iain’s answer came a bit too quickly.

Calum shifted and avoided her gaze.

“How will we know that
you
are safe if you return to the castle?”

“Trust me, sister. I can take care of myself.” His smile did not reach his eyes. “Do not worry so.”

A thousand scenarios played out in her mind as desperation seeped into her thoughts. “And in the woods? How will we stay safe? Calum is only nine years old.” She smiled an apology at her little brother for such a frank statement.

“I have protection. See?” Calum withdrew a dangerous-looking knife from its hiding place in his boot.

“You fight very well, Calum, I know, but…” She turned beseeching eyes on Iain. He had to come with them.

“You must remain vigilant. I know you can do this, Iseabail. Here.” Iain held out a dagger. “Take this. Keep it near you at all times.”

Iseabail accepted the
sgian dubh
Iain offered. She slid the knife out of the scabbard. Their father had given it to Iain when he turned ten, and she found comfort in its weight and the cold metal of its blade.

This would never work, but there was no other choice. Was it not better to die trying than to live playing dead?

“If you think this is best.” She slipped it into the basket.

“Go on, and do not worry about me. I will protect what is ours. Understand?”

“It will be dangerous for you.” She wrapped her arms around him and drew him close to keep him from seeing her tears, but he stiffened and stifled a gasp. She drew back. “What is wrong?”

He smiled at her with misty eyes. “I love you, Iseabail. I pray you will be safe. And you,” he grasped Calum’s shoulder as men do, “you must look out for her. Aye?”

Calum wiped his nose. “Aye.”

“We will stay together.” She straightened her shoulders and held her head high, feigning a strength she did not truly feel. “And we will get help.”

Iain tipped his head, a small smile playing on his lips as his features softened with relief. He glanced around, searching the far-off woods. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, and his eyes almost looked black as he surreptitiously slipped a small leather-wrapped parchment from beneath his tunic. Their father’s will.

“This is the only support we have for our claim.” With his eye on the document, Iain continued, “You must protect it if we want to take back what is rightfully ours.”

She nodded, solemnly accepting his edict. She shifted the silver cross that hung against her bosom then tucked the treatise down the front of her gown. The worn leather was comforting where it rested, snug between her breasts.

“When you get to the Campbell’s land, look for the shepherd boy, Inus, in the lower fields. He shall get you to Hugh, who knows of our dear uncle’s treacherous way firsthand. Trust no one else. Do you understand? No one.”

Her brother’s closest friend had always been a thorn under her skin with his constant teasing. That he was her savior now made her want to laugh, but the dire look in her brother’s eyes stopped her. He held her at arm’s length as if memorizing everything about her. A lump grew in her throat as she fought back tears. She wanted to be strong for him. Make him proud. Despite her concerns, despite the strangeness of his behavior, she trusted him, and she would respect his decision.

“You must promise me, Iseabail. Trust no one else.”

“I promise.” Despite her best intentions, tears coursed down her face. “I look forward to being with you again, dear brother.” She kissed his cheek and hugged him. She did not want to let go, but when Iain made a strangled sound, she released him at once. His breathing was heavy and his forehead glistened with sweat. “Iain?”

He stepped back, his jaw clenched. He shook his head at her to stay away. “Go, both of you.”