Authors: Iris Johansen
“Beautiful,” he echoed, looking at her. He got down from his horse and lifted her off the mare. “But a little out of the way for a garden. Wouldn’t Lord Richard allow you a patch of land nearer the manor?”
“I didn’t ask. I explained that I could find the proper herbs only in the woods.”
“And no one knows about this place?”
“No.” She added without thinking, “It’s quite safe.”
“Safe?” He turned to look at her.
“I meant that my garden is safe from being trampled by forest creatures,” she said quickly. “They don’t like the prickliness of the holly bushes.”
“I don’t think that’s what you meant,” Gage said. “What do you fear in this forest that you didn’t in the one at Hastings?”
“Nothing. What could I fear?”
His expression hardened. “Tell me.”
She was silent.
“Shall I go deeper into the woods and find out for myself?”
“No!” She would have to tell him. “Lord Richard is not to be trusted. He may try to do you harm.”
“Indeed? How do you know?”
“Delmas told me.” She saw the expected reaction and blurted out, “You see, you take the knowledge that Lord Richard may try to kill you quite calmly, but I make mention of Delmas and you grow angry. It makes no sense.”
“I gather that Delmas didn’t confide Lord Richard’s plans so that you could give me warning?”
She didn’t answer.
“So he was privy to Lord Richard’s plans. I find it strange that he would confide such a plot to a slave. Now, why would he do that?”
She said reluctantly, “Delmas was desperate for help to get me back and told him of the treasure.”
“Ah, your husband was desperate for your return.”
“Because of the treasure. He cares nothing for me.” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Delmas is no
worse than Lord Richard. Why accept one and hate the other?”
“It must be a grievous fault in my character.” He turned and walked toward the brook. “Actually, I’m glad your husband is plotting my death. It will make it easier to remove him. Not that it would have been hard before.”
“Lord Richard is the one to blame. Delmas only does his bidding.” His expression didn’t change and she spat out in frustration, “I wish I had not told you. Now you will think only of death and vengeance. I should never have warned you.”
“Why did you warn me?” He took a step closer. “If I had been killed, it would have been one less enemy to plague you.”
She hurriedly glanced away. “Better you than Delmas and Lord Richard.”
“I’m not flattered by the comparison.” He lifted her chin and forced her to stare into his eyes. “Look at me. Am I truly the enemy, Brynn?”
“You keep me from Gwynthal. You call me your slave. How can you be anything else but my enemy?”
“If you were not my slave, would you leave me?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will remain my slave.” He turned away, sat down, and took off his boots. “But if it makes you easier, I am not the trusting fool you think me. I would have to be a madman to believe Richard of Redfern would tamely hand his birthright over to me. I had LeFont take a company of men to search this forest and the surrounding countryside for malcontents yesterday after we arrived. He’s making a similar search today.”
Her eyes widened. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why? It is what I would have done in any enemy land.” He took off his mail and tunic and lay down on the moss beside the creek. He closed his eyes. “But now
that I know you have my interests at heart, I feel no hesitation about letting you guard me.”
No one appeared less in need of protection. Nudity should have made him look vulnerable, but it did not. He was all bronze and ebony, a huge, gleaming cat sunning himself after the hunt … or before the hunt.
“What are you doing?”
He didn’t open his eyes. “I think it clear. I had a disturbed night and feel the need for a nap. Wake me before dusk.”
She stared at him uncertainly. “And what do you wish me to do while you sleep?”
“Do whatever you would do if I weren’t here.” He yawned. “This is your place, not mine.”
Of course it was her place. Why was she so hesitant? She knew the answer. He had only to enter into a place and it became subtly his own. She was not sure she would ever be able to come back here without seeing his big body lying on that mossy bank.
Well, her sleep had also been disturbed, but she was wide awake and there was plenty to do. She had been gone too long. She knelt and began to pluck the weeds from the beds. The scents were heady, the birds singing, the sun warm, and the peace she always felt when she was here began to flow over her.
It was a long time later, when the rays of the sun had grown long over the glade, that she became aware he was watching her.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s almost time to go.”
“Soon.” He stretched lazily before rising to his feet and moving across the glade toward her. “What are you doing?”
“Pulling weeds. They’re trying to choke the life from my plants.”
“And you’re fighting them off.” He knelt on the
other side of the row and began to pull at the intruding sprigs. “Do your plants have their own dragons for you to battle against too?”
“Of course. Where there is life, there is always death trying to take it away. If I didn’t fight it, I would become part of it and I would hate myself.”
“And it was your mother who taught you about herbs?”
She nodded. “From the time I was out of swaddling clothes I always knew that I must prepare myself to be a healer, to fight the dragons.” She looked at him gravely. “She told me that there are many kinds of warriors in the world and the best kind are the ones who give life, not take it away.”
“I wouldn’t know about such benevolent warriors. I’ve known only the other kind.” His lips twisted. “The ones like myself.”
“But you could change.”
“Only if the world changed.” He reached out to pull another weed. “I could not tolerate life beneath a conqueror’s heel. Look at you. You’re a slave. What’s your reward for fighting your dragons?”
“The battle itself,” she said simply.
He glanced up and paused in mid motion. “Radiance …” he murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just something Malik said about you.” He plucked the weed and reached for another. “Before he decided it would be a presumption to become enamored of you.”
She chuckled. “Presumption? I didn’t think Malik had knowledge of the word. You are strange companions. Where did you meet?”
“Byzantium.” He smiled. “He ran a sword through my arm.”
“What?”
“My caravan was attacked in the desert by Saracen
bandits as I was returning to Normandy. Malik was leading them.”
She frowned. “I cannot believe Malik a thief.”
“He was an excellent thief. He and his men stole every scrap of goods, horses, and wagons in the caravan and rode away. Two days later he returned with horses and enough water to see us out of the desert.” He grinned. “He also bandaged my arm and gave me a lecture on fighting men who are obviously of superior skill.”
“A thief …”
“His village thought him a hero. They had suffered three years of drought and there was thirst and starvation until Malik took matters into his own hands. Tell me, would you choose virtue or life in the same circumstances?”
She answered without hesitation. “Life.”
“I thought as much. So did Malik. No one loves life as much as he does. Except, perhaps, you.” He looked around the glade. “He would like your garden.”
“Yes.” She impulsively took his hand and placed it on the sun-warmed earth. “There is so much life here. It’s all around us. Can you feel it?”
“Yes.” He turned his hand over and closed it around hers. “I’ve never felt more alive.”
She inhaled sharply as she met his gaze. She had never felt more alive either. It was as if his life force were flowing into her, making her stronger, bringing her to the crest where earth met sky. She smiled luminously as she returned his clasp. “That is good.”
“I want you,” he said thickly. “I want to be inside you. I want to
feel
how alive you are. Here. Now.”
She felt a tiny flicker of disappointment. “As you like.”
He muttered a curse as he dropped her hands. “I said I wanted it. I didn’t say I would force you to it.” He
got to his feet and moved toward the bank. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t.” She watched him in bewilderment as he donned his clothes and then strode toward the horses.
“Come along,” he said. “It’s time we got back.”
She stood up and moved toward the mare, “If you would explain, I might—”
“Don’t expect me to explain it to you when I don’t understand myself. We’re alone here. I don’t have to worry about you scourging me for bringing shame down upon you.” He tossed her onto the mare’s back and mounted his own horse. “And God knows, I don’t believe in the code of knightly behavior preached at William’s court. I’ve always found that it’s seldom used when it isn’t convenient.” He put spurs to his stallion. “Dammit, and it is most certainly
not
convenient.”
He was in a rage of frustration and more storm ridden than she had ever seen him.
Still, Brynn found herself smiling joyously as she followed him back to Redfern.
Lord Richard met them in the courtyard. “I hope you found my Redfern as beautiful as I do, my lord. If you had told me you were riding out, I would have come with you.” He stepped forward and lifted Brynn down from her horse. “But I’m sure Brynn proved a most felicitous companion.”
She quickly disengaged herself and stepped back. “I must get back to Malik and Adwen.” She met Gage’s eyes. “I trust you will not require me in the hall tonight?”
“No.” He grimaced. “I believe we’ll dispense with your company. It appears to be too upsetting for proper digestion.”
She smiled. “I’ve noticed it a common practice for a man to blame every discomfort on a woman.” She
turned and started up the steps. “Look to yourself, my lord.”
He chuckled and called after her. “I’ll endeavor to do so.” He paused. “If you will honor me with your presence tomorrow for another ride through the countryside.”
The last words were spoken with the formality he might have shown a great lady. She stopped on the steps and turned back to scan his face for signs of mockery. She found none. “It will be my pleasure, my lord.” She started up the stairs again.
“I’ll go with you.” Lord Richard hurried after her. “I’ve not paid a visit to my poor lady today.”
What mischief was he planning now? She stopped and turned to face him. “She is too ill for visitors.”
“But surely not for a husband? A husband is not a visitor.”
“Brynn?” Gage asked softly.
She cast him a swift glance. He wanted her to give him cause to violence. In Gage’s present uncertain temper it would not be wise to light any spark. She said curtly to Richard, “Come along, then.” She moved down the hall. “But you cannot stay long.”
“I will not stay at all. I have no desire to see my pale rag of a wife. I wished only an opportunity to talk to you. The Norman seems to be always at your heels.” He added crudely, “Or in your body. The servants told me yesterday that they heard you grunting and screaming like the peasant you are after you banished Alice from his chamber.”
She flinched at the words. She had not thought he could hurt her, but she felt suddenly besmirched. “Say what you have to say.”
“The treasure. It has to be mine,” he whispered. “Ours. Why should the Norman have it?”
“Delmas told me he had told you about Gwynthal.
I never told him there was a treasure. How do you know he didn’t lie about it?”
“He would not dare lie to me. He has no courage.” Richard smiled. “And he’s not overly clever. He actually thought I’d share the treasure with him, which only proves his stupidity. I don’t need him if I have you.”
“But you don’t have me.”
“Not at the moment, but I’ve always been good at ridding myself of obstacles.” He paused. “You can have no life with the Norman. He will only use you and then discard you. While I might even be willing to wed you.”
She said coldly, “You have a wife.”
“But the thread of her existence is so very fragile. If you were not so soft of heart, you could snap it yourself. However, I will see to it myself in time.”
She felt her stomach churn, “You are truly a demon.”
“No, just a man who knows what he wants. I was not destined to remain in the mud, groveling at the feet of other men.” He stared down at her. “The Norman knows what he wants too. I doubt if he would cavil at ridding himself of an encumbrance.”
“You’re wrong. He’s not like you,” she said fiercely.
“Shall I call Delmas back and watch to discover if he is?”
“No!”
“You see?” he asked with satisfaction. “There is little to choose between the Norman and me. I would rid myself of a wife and he would rid you of a husband. You should be complimented. You must be as pleasing as Delilah if you can lure a man to his death.”
Death. A wave of panic washed over her. “He is not like you,” she repeated. “He wouldn’t do it.”
“You know he would,” Richard said. “I look forward to partaking of your skills. I’ve grown weary of meek, mewling women who give a man no challenge. Yes, I think a marriage is not totally out of the question.”
He gave her a meaningful look. “Think well, Brynn. Join with me. Don’t destroy yourself.”
She shook her head.
“No?” His expression changed only slightly, but she received an impression of ugly menace. “Then I must change your mind. What a pity. I had hoped you would not make my task difficult.”
Before she could reply, he turned on his heel and walked away.