Return of the Warrior (4 page)

She had yet to see her husband interact with children, but given his treatment of Lutian and his horse, she could only imagine he would be equally kind to them.

“Christian?” she called as she left the trees behind. “Could you please assist me?”

He paused as she drew near him. His gaze dropped to her loose bodice that dipped low between her breasts. She saw the heat come into his pale eyes as he stared at her like a hungry man before a banquet.

He might push her aside, but he did desire her, and so long as he did, she stood a chance at seducing him to her bed and changing his mind about being king.

Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze and moved around her so that he could lace the back of her gown. She closed her eyes and savored the heat of his hands as they brushed against the flesh of her back. He did indeed have a gentle touch that made her ache with need.

Virgin she might be, but she knew well what went on between husband and wife. When she had turned ten-and-four, her father had seen to it that her nurse instructed her well on what duties a wife should perform. They had expected Christian to come home that year.

He hadn’t.

Instead, they had received word of the destruction of his monastery and Selwyn’s letter stating his death.

Poor Christian, to be so hated. Jealousy and greed had stolen everything from her husband…just as it had taken much from her. Maybe Christian was right. There were times when the cost of her crown was far too high.

“What happened to you after the Saracens attacked your monastery?” she asked him.

“You don’t ever want an answer to that question.”

The anger and hatred in his tone gave her pause. There was much he kept hidden. Much he didn’t speak of.

She remembered the brand on his hand. It was a Saracen mark. “Were you held captive? A slave?”

He moved away from her without answering.

She followed him. “My mother always said that burdens weigh much less when they are shared with another person.”

He scoffed at that. “I have no desire to think of the past in any manner. It’s gone and dead. What we should focus on is the challenges before us.”

Adara paused.

What had they done to him that was so horrible he couldn’t even bear to think on it?

He led his horse to her, then helped her to remount. “Lutian,” he called out to her fool, who was feeding her mare grass. “’Tis time to leave.”

A breath later, Christian was behind her in the
saddle and they were on their way again, with Lutian trailing behind them.

“Christian?” she asked.

“Aye?”

“Would you answer one question for me?”

“If I do, will you swear to ask no more of me?”

“That would be impossible.”

“Then you have your answer.”

Deciding to give them both a reprieve, she didn’t speak anymore until they were in the village and he deposited her and Lutian before a hostel.

“Would you care for anything to eat?” she asked Christian before he departed.

“Nay. There’s not enough time. You two should eat quickly, then be ready to ride again.”

She frowned at him as he left her and headed toward the stable at the edge of town.

“Your husband is a peculiar man, my queen. There is much sadness inside him.”

“Aye, Lutian, I have noticed.”

“Perhaps we should drop him on his head, and then when he awakens in your arms he would be as charmed by you as I was.”

She smiled at that. “Were you charmed?”

“Aye, my queen. I still am. There is nothing in life that I cherish more than your smile and laughter. I live and breathe for them both. I only wish your husband felt toward them the same way as I do.”

Even though her father would have frowned at her action, she gave her fool a quick hug. Would that Lutian were her husband. He might not be dashing and handsome, but they got along famously. Yet for all his good nature and sweetness, Lutian could never rule a kingdom. To be a successful king took a great deal of confidence and intelligence. Not to mention a sternness that he completely lacked.

Adara turned toward the small cottage behind them to find a large, buxom woman opening the door to welcome them inside. A few years older than she, the woman had long straight brown hair and friendly green eyes.

“Good evening,” the woman said, smiling brightly. “Do you be needing a room for the night?”

“Nay, just a bit of food for us and my husband.”

The woman looked down toward where Christian was headed. “You married a priest?”

Adara felt her face flush with color as she realized that Christian still wore his monk’s black robes. “Nay, we’ve been on pilgrimage,” she lied.

“Ah,” the woman said, stepping aside so that Adara and Lutian could enter. “My brother went to Rome wearing a friar’s frock, horsehair tunic, and walking the whole way on his knees. Men, I wonder at times what goes through their heads.”

Adara didn’t respond as the woman led them to a large hearth on the opposite side of the cottage. “We have leek and sausage soup, mincemeat pies, roasted lamb and chicken. What have you?”

Adara had no idea what Christian might like, so
she decided on what would be easiest to carry with them. “Three pies, please, and two skins of ale.” She looked at Lutian. “What of you?”

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I should like one maid to take with us.”

Adara’s eyes widened as the woman squeaked in horror. Covering Lutian’s mouth with her hand, she cleared her throat. “He was but jesting, goodwife. He would like two pies and a skin as well.”

The woman narrowed her eyes in warning before she left them to gather their items.

“Lutian!” Adara snapped. “Shame on you.”

He only grinned devilishly as he scanned the clean but old room, which was empty save for two little girls who were playing dolls in one corner.

She smiled as she watched them giggling and chattering about nothing of consequence, and yet it was significantly important to them. How she loved children. She’d always wanted her own, even when she was a girl. She’d played endlessly with dolls in expectation of the day when she would be a mother.

And she had waited far too many years for a husband who held no desire to grant her the one thing she wanted most.

She felt her smile falter as sadness consumed her. If she were wise, she would annul this marriage and find a husband who would do his duty.

However, that was even harder than convincing her wayward spouse to return with her. What man would jeopardize his life by being her consort
while they were on the brink of war with a kingdom that was determined to annex her own?

“Go on, my queen,” Lutian whispered in her ear. “No one here knows you are royal. Go and play with your children.”

“It’s not proper.”

“Neither is befriending a simpkin.”

Adara squeezed his arm. “You are far wiser than you let on, Lutian.”

“And everyone, even a queen, needs a day of play.” He indicated the children with a jerk of his chin. “Lay on, my queen, and have a bit of fun.”

Before she could think twice, Adara crossed the room so that she could kneel beside them.

“Greetings, little ones,” she said to the girls, while Lutian stayed by the hearth, waiting on the woman to return. “What are you two playing?”

“Merry Marge,” the older girl, who was probably around the age of six, said as she brandished a doll that was made from brown homespun. The doll’s hair was coarse black horsehair and two black stitched X’s formed her eyes. The little girl herself had the woman’s bright green eyes and blond hair. “She’s been really naughty and let the beggar steal her shoes.” She held up the doll’s bare feet to show her.

“Naughty, naughty!” the other girl, who was obviously her sister and who was probably no older than four, cried as she bounced a similar doll up and down on her lap.

Christian traded his horse and Lutian’s for three others. None of the three were anywhere near the quality of his rounsey, but he paid the avener a small fortune to hold Titan here until he could return for him.

He left the stable and headed for the hostel where he’d left Adara and Lutian. It was getting late and he should most likely stay here for the night. But he wouldn’t chance it. He didn’t like towns, to begin with. They were too confining and held too many sounds that could mask the telltale noises of someone trying to sneak up on him.

He tied the horses outside, then opened the hostel door and paused as he saw his royal wife on the floor with two small peasant girls who were laughing at her. The sight shocked him. That a woman of her station would do such a thing was unthinkable.

Adara held two dolls in her hands and was dancing them together. She sang a song in a language he had all but forgotten. And in that instant, he flashed back to his own childhood. To the last time in his life he had felt truly safe.

Loved.

I love you, little Christian,
his mother’s voice echoed in his mind as she kissed his brow and rocked him in her arms.
I always will.

He couldn’t count the times his mother sang to him when he was a child. But even so, her voice was no match for the beauty of Adara’s.

Lutian cleared his throat as if to warn them of his presence.

The older of the girls straightened up as she caught sight of him watching them. “Are we doing something wrong, brother?” she asked him.

Adara stopped midsong as she turned to face him. God’s blood, but she was a striking woman. Her wealth of black hair fell freely around her like a mantle of sable. And those eyes…

A man could lose all sanity while staring at those kind, sweet eyes.

Surely no queen should look so guileless and innocent. Especially not one who had traversed an entire continent just to seduce him to her bed.

“Nay,” Christian said quietly. “And I’m not a monk.”

The little girl cocked her head at that.

“He’s playing dress-up,” Adara said. “Like Marge.” She handed the dolls back to the girls, then stood up and joined him.

“Did you not eat?” he asked.

She gestured to a cloth napkin that covered a small stack of mincemeat pies and two skins on a nearby table. “I thought it best we eat on our journey.”

“I ate already,” Lutian said. He patted his stomach. “It was very tasty and well served. I still would rather have had my first request, though. A prime maid to feast upon.” His gaze went to Adara. “What man could ask for more?”

Christian frowned at that until she brushed a
hand against his brow, which immediately succeeded in calming him. “You shouldn’t do that so much. You’ll get wrinkles before your time.”

Christian opened his mouth to speak, then paused as he heard something odd from outside.

If he didn’t know better…

A dagger went whizzing past his face, narrowly missing it.

Adara screamed as she moved away from him to shield the children. Lutian quickly joined her in the corner.

Before he could unsheath his sword, the door slammed open and a body was flung through it.

Christian pulled his sword out and angled it to the man on the ground, only to realize he was already dead. He stepped back as another man came through the door with a drawn dagger in his hand.

Adara held the girls’ faces to her gown to shield them from the sight of the dead man as she tried to understand what was happening. Even Lutian stood as motionless as a statue.

Christian still held his sword at the ready, but made no move to attack.

The newcomer was almost as tall as Christian. He had black hair that flowed long past his broad shoulders. In truth, she’d never seen hair so long on any man. His skin was a darker tan than most Europeans. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he was Saracen.

But his eyes were so pale that at first glance,
they looked white. They were as startling in their mercilessness as they were in their color.

“Phantom,” Christian said in a low tone. “Are you friend or foe this night?”

“If I were foe, Abbot, you’d be dead now,” the man said in an accent that was definitely Norman.

In one fluid motion, Phantom wiped his bloody dagger on his thigh before he tucked it into his black sleeve.

“Mercy, mercy!” the hostel owner said as she entered the room and saw the dead man on her floor. She rushed to the girls, then herded them out of the room.

Phantom turned his cold, eerie gaze to Adara, who stiffened instantly. There was something very chilly and frightening about this man. And at the same time, there was something eerily familiar about him, too, but she was most certain that had she ever met this man before, she would definitely recall it.

“What have we here?” he asked with a note of excitement in his voice.

Christian placed himself between them. “She’s no concern of yours.”

A slow, wicked smile spread across Phantom’s face. “Is she your concern?”

“Aye.”

The man inclined his head almost respectfully to them. “Then you’re right. She’s none of mine.” He bent down and hoisted the dead man up onto his back.

Adara was awed by his strength as he stood up and headed for the door.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

He shrugged even with the weight of the other man on his shoulders. “I figured the goodwife and her daughters wouldn’t want me to leave her place in a mess.”

He left the hostel, then returned a moment later without the dead man. “So why was he after you, Abbot?”

Christian glanced at her and Lutian. “It appears someone wants me dead.”

Phantom passed a curious look from one to the other. “You should be more careful, then, shouldn’t you?”

Christian didn’t respond. “What brings you here?”

“I was on my way back to Paris and thought I’d rent a room for the night when I saw Titan in the stable. I was inspecting him as I caught sight of the shadow headed toward the hostel. Good thing I followed.”

“Indeed.”

The two men were extremely uncomfortable around each other and Adara wondered why.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, interrupting their rather stilted conversation.

Phantom scowled at her. “I know that accent. Queen Adara?”