Blood of the Rose (36 page)

While Rosalind was close, Christopher reached for her hand and caught it within his. He waited as Rhys obligingly led Elias a little away from them. “Am I forgiven, then?”

She looked down at their clasped hands. “No, you are not.”

“Even though I nearly died three times in one night, and you even agreed to let Elias turn me into a Vampire if I would only live?”

“You heard that?”

“It was the very last thing I heard, and you were extremely brave even to consider it.”

She colored. “It was nothing.”

“It was everything, love. You chose to give me up to my Vampire family, knowing it might mean the end of everything we had together. You chose to protect me.”

“I—I preferred that you survived.”

“Why did you want me to survive?” he asked gently.

“Because . . .”

She still wouldn’t look at him, and it irked him greatly. “Rosalind?”

She raised her gaze to his, and her eyes were full of tears. “Because even when I want to hate you, it appears that I cannot. Are you satisfied now?”

He hid a smile. “Completely, love.” He squeezed her fingers. “If you will allow me to explain my actions, surely you’ll understand why I did what seemed necessary to protect you.”

“Ah, it was all about protecting me, and not about your foolish notions of male superiority?”

Christopher closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Rosalind, I’m tired, and I don’t want to argue with you, but there is one thing I must know. Where is our babe?”

She laughed. “Where do you think—in a chest in my room?”

“Rosalind . . .”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She grabbed his hand and placed it over her belly.

He gulped in some much-needed air. “What? Not back in Wales?”

“Christopher, I am but a month or two increasing.”

He sagged against her shoulder. “I thought you’d already had the child.”

“When I was in Wales?”

“Aye. Anne said—Well, she told me that you’d had my babe and hidden it away from me.” He didn’t dare tell her the horrific thing Anne had suggested she’d done with the child. He’d save that confession for another day, preferably one when there were no weapons at hand.

Rosalind pulled away from Christopher. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I did. You seemed to confirm it. You said that what you chose to do with your child was none of my business.”

She sighed. “And I thought you knew I was breeding and didn’t want the child. I was so terribly hurt. And I was afraid you would send me away from the fight.”

He paused to think about that, and then resolutely met her gaze. “And I probably would have.”

There was another long silence and then he took her hand again. “We have been at cross-purposes, have we not?”

“I suppose we have, but that does not explain our
wedding
.”

Christopher brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Love, we have the rest of our lives to argue about that,
and
for you to prove what a worthless knave I truly am. Can we not let it be for now? I would dearly love to hold you.” She remained stiff, her gaze directed away from him, and he kissed her fingers again. “Please, Rosalind.”

With a muffled cry, she flung herself into his arms and he held her tight, his soul rejoicing at this new start, this fresh opportunity to finally live his life with the woman he loved. He cupped her chin and brought her mouth up to meet his and kissed her with everything he was. She kissed him back, gave him her mind too, her lips fierce and hot and desperate.

He drew back and gazed at her. “I do want this babe, Rosalind. I want our child to know he was created out of love, and that no matter how complicated his bloodlines, he is ours to cherish and protect.” He brushed the lush curve of her lower lip with his thumb. “Who better to raise an unusual child than two misfits like us?”

“There is that.” Rosalind swallowed hard, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You assume it will be a boy, then.”

He grabbed her hand and held it against his chest. “It has to be a boy. I cannot imagine dealing with a little girl like you, my love. My heart would surely fail.”

She smiled at him and everything in his life suddenly made sense. She was
his
future as well as the future mother of his child. What more could any man want?

Rhys cleared his throat and Christopher reluctantly drew back. “What is it?”

“Elias and I believe it will be safer to remove yourselves from court while Anne lives out the rest of her days.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

Elias stepped forward. “You have not yet visited the property the king has gifted you to go with your elevation into the peerage. I suggest you take Lady Rosalind there immediately.”

Abruptly, Rosalind straightened away from Christopher. “We are not running away, Elias. If Anne wants to fight, we’ll fight her.”

Christopher wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her back against him. “No, we will not.”

She turned to stare at him, her brown eyes wide and anguished. “Why not?”

“Because you were right. I cannot risk our child.”

She pushed him away. “You cannot order me around like that!”

“You are my wife.You promised to obey me, remember?”

“But I didn’t mean it!”

Rhys touched her elbow. “Rosalind, stop thinking about what you want and consider the babe. Elias pointed out that your child will be of interest to both the Druids and the Vampires.”

Rosalind wrenched herself out of Christopher’s embrace and walked away from them, her arms wrapped around her waist. “I will not let anyone take my child.”

Christopher wanted to smile at the heat in her .voice. She would make a ferociously protective mother, and he was glad of that. “Then you must listen to reason. I’m not suggesting you leave court by yourself. I will be with you.” He grimaced. “I’m not going to be very welcome around here either. We will keep the child safe together.”

“But where?” She stared at him. “Where will such a child be safe?”

“That is what I was going to tell you, my lady,” Elias interrupted. “The estate that the king has bestowed on Lord Christopher has a most interesting feature.”

“What do you mean?”

Elias smiled. “The manor house at Avebury is set within an ancient stone circle, which will offer you protection against the Vampires. That is why I suggest you and Lord Christopher leave for there immediately.”

Rosalind locked gazes with Christopher. “Is this what you truly want to do?”

He nodded.

“Not fight on?”

“No, love.”

She swallowed hard and her shoulders sagged. “Then for the sake of the babe, I agree.”

Christopher went toward her and wrapped her in his arms. “You will never regret this, my lady. For as long as I draw breath on this earth, I will keep you and the babe safe.”

“I know that, although I am quite capable of seeing to that task myself.” She relaxed against him for the first time, and he gladly held her close. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her ear, any part of her he could reach, and she sniffed. “I still haven’t forgiven you, though.”

He thought his heart would overflow at her querulous tone. “Of course not.”

“And I still want an explanation.”

“Once we are safely away, you shall have all the explanations your heart desires, and a proper wedding if you require one.”

Christopher looked up at Rhys and Elias. “Do you really think we should leave now?”

Both men nodded and Rhys spoke. “As soon as you can pack your bags, my lord. All is ready for you at the manor. Elias has made sure of that. In truth, he ‘helped’ the king pick this particular property for you.”

“You will stay here and weather the storm?”

Rhys glanced at Elias. “We will. I will write to you regularly and keep you informed.”

Christopher nodded. “And will you send Olivia my thanks, Rhys?”

Something like regret flickered in Rhys’s eyes. “Of course, my lord.”

Christopher managed a smile. “Then all is well.” He looked down at the top of Rosalind’s head and kissed it. “It’s not the end of the world, love. I’m sure the Llewellyns will be back to save the king another day.”

Rosalind gazed at him and then at Rhys and Elias, her head held high like a queen. “The Llewellyns will
never
leave the monarch unprotected against the Vampire threat.”

Christopher took her hand and urged her toward the exit. “Let’s go and pack, and we can be on our way as soon as we have the king’s permission to leave.”

Rosalind paused. “And what exactly do we tell the king?”

“That he is safe for now, but that he should remain ever vigilant.”

Rosalind sighed. “What on earth will happen next?”

Christopher found himself grinning down at her. “That remains to be seen, my love, but I can guarantee the Vampires will be busy plotting again.”

“But we will have five years of peace.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “At least we will have that.”

And many more years, if Christopher had his way. With all the time he intended to spend pleasuring Rosalind in bed, he hoped they’d have more than one child to worry about and distract their mother. And if the king ever did call on Rosalind again, he’d be right by her side in the midst of any fight. He took her hand and led her up the slope of the valley.

It was time to enjoy this respite while Anne Boleyn destroyed herself and not worry about whatever came next. The mere thought of having his own home, and his wife and child in it, made him swallow down the most unmanly desire to cry.

Rosalind looked up at him and caressed his cheek. At least she understood him. Perhaps he should simply enjoy the freedom to
live
in peace with the woman he loved. Dubiously, he studied his bloodthirsty wife. It would be hard to convince Rosalind to give up her weapons, but he was a very persuasive man, and it would certainly be fun trying.

Turn the page for a special preview of

Mark of the Rose

Coming in August 2011 from Signet Eclipse.

Avebury Manor, England, 1537

“R
hys! Where are you?”

Rhys Williams stirred and half opened his eyes. Bemused, he stared up at the leafy fronds of the willow tree above his head and blinked at the brightness of the sun slanting through the green darkness. His tangled dreams of a black-haired Vampire faded as he registered the impatient tone of his best friend and fellow Vampire slayer, Rosalind Llewellyn.

No, not Llewellyn anymore—Ellis. Even after all these years, her married name still sat uneasily on his tongue.

“Rhys!”

He sat up, knowing that if he didn’t attend to her, she’d come and find him, and in her current condition, that might be unwise. Her husband would not thank Rhys for exposing his precious wife to the blistering summer heat. Rhys left the blanket on the ground, pushed aside the heavy curtain of hanging branches and headed back toward the tall, elegant manor house, where Rosalind awaited him.

Despite his best efforts, his heart still beat harder when he saw her. Seven years had passed since she’d married the Druid slayer, and yet she seemed content to bear Christopher’s children and love him despite being disowned by her family. Rhys envied their happiness, and still occasionally wished he had succeeded in gaining her love for himself.

Rosalind shaded her eyes and smiled up at him. “Were you asleep?”

“Aye.”

She tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and walked with him toward the kitchens. “Is your arm still giving you pain?”

“None at all. Because of your excellent care, I am more than ready to leave and go back to my duties.”

Rosalind shivered. “Promise me to be more careful, Rhys. When you first arrived here, I thought you were going to lose that arm.”

He patted her hand. “I’ll be careful. It’s not every day a man walks into a Vampire ambush.”

She sighed. “I fear you are taking too many risks.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Rosalind. I’m more than capable of dealing with a few Vampires.”

“So I’ve heard. Your reputation as a slayer these days far exceeds my own.”

He held open the door that led into the back wing of the house. “Unlike you, I have nothing else to do with my time.”

“You could come and visit us more often.”

“I’m not supposed to visit you at all. Your grandfather has expressly forbidden it. I come when I can and I am very grateful for the care you have given me.”

Rosalind bit her lip and turned away from him. “I wish I could fight with you again. I’d keep you safe.”

Rhys opened the door into the large homely kitchen and waited for Rosalind to walk past him. The smell of baking bread made his mouth water. “I don’t think Christopher would let you fight with me.”

“I surely would not.” A dark-haired man with startling blue eyes looked up from his perusal of the documents spread out on the table. His narrowed gaze passed over Rhys and came to rest on Rosalind. “Not while you are carrying our child, my love.”

Rosalind sniffed and went to sit beside her husband. Rhys followed more slowly and took the bench seat on the opposite side of the oak table. His attention was caught by the king’s royal seal.

“What have we here?”

Christopher grinned at him. “We have finally been rewarded by King Henry for our part in the downfall of Anne Boleyn.” Christopher pushed a parchment adorned with numerous seals and signatures over to Rhys. “You will enjoy this.” He pretended to preen. “I have been made an earl.”

“Congratulations, my lord.” Rhys couldn’t help liking Christopher despite himself. The man was not only a worthy opponent on the battlefield but he had a good heart and all the skills of a diplomat, when he chose to use them.

Christopher handed him another document. “And you, my friend, have been created a baronet.”

“A what?” Rhys grabbed hold of the thick parchment and began to struggle his way through the complex Latin phrases. Christopher pointed at a section halfway down the page, and Rhys read his own name. He looked up at Christopher. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means that you are now
Sir
Rhys Williams, and you have a title to pass down to your children.”