Emma studied her cousin’s face for a long moment. ’Twas difficult to read. “I thought you wanted me to yield to his attentions.”
“If you must marry him, aye. But is there no other solution?”
“If by solution you mean Aldred, forget it.”
“Why?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “What has that animal ever done to secure your high opinion of him?”
“He’s Saxon.”
“That doesn’t make him good.”
“Perhaps not, but if you married him, Ravenwood’s blood would remain pure and untainted by Norman swill.”
“Really, Gertrude! Has logic so escaped you?”
“You rebuke me? What has logic to do with visions and curses?”
“Some experiences surpass rational thought.”
Gertrude looked deflated. “You surely have a gift for attracting them.”
Emma watched as a servant pulled a loaf of bread out of the hive-shaped oven in the side of the hearth. A surge of desperate humor sparked a ridiculous thought. If only childbirth were that easy.
Priests held definite views on why that wasn’t the case, but she secretly rejected them. The God to whom she prayed was benevolent and wise. The heart of love. He wouldn’t purposely inflict pain on others.
Gertrude stepped closer. “You must’ve considered that what you deny Sir William he could take by force.”
Emma’s chest tightened. “Let’s walk to the mews,” she said. “This heat is too intense.”
After the kitchens, the bailey was heaven. A cool breeze swept through the courtyard like an angel of mercy. It calmed Emma, and she fell into an easy gait beside Gertrude.
As they neared the mews, Gertrude tugged at Emma’s sleeve. “You’ve not replied to what I said inside.”
“I’d rather not think about it,” Emma said.
“Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away.”
“I know that.”
“Then you’d better consider your options.”
They stopped beside the lengthy wooden shed that housed the castle’s falcons. The soft tinkle of bells drifted toward them as a hooded, long-winged hawk tested the leather jesses which bound her leg to a weathering block.
At least you’re outside, little one, Emma thought. Be patient. Soon you’ll hunt and soar with the best of them.
“Listen to me,” said Gertrude.
Emma pulled her attention from the restless falcon and regarded her cousin.
Mischief glittered in Gertrude’s eyes. “Given a choice between Aldred and Sir William, you prefer the latter.”
“Without a doubt.”
“What if there were a third option?”
“There is none.”
“But if there were?”
“I’d strongly consider it.”
Gertrude’s smile was triumphant, and its brilliance was a reminder of how seldom it appeared. “Then consider Wulfstan.”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“No, but hear me out. We know he has no desire to marry.”
“Aye. He’d rather be left alone to study and learn in peace. And he doesn’t need heirs as Aldred does.”
“And if he needs no heirs…”
“He wouldn’t require me in his bed.”
“Precisely.”
“Even so, would Wulfstan agree to such a union?”
Gertrude’s fists locked onto her hips. “He’s always cared about you. Why would he object? The two of you could run away before the wedding.”
“’Twould have to be tonight.”
“Aye,” Gertrude enthused. She clapped her hands together, and a peregrine inside the mews answered with a high, sharp cry.
“Come,” Emma said, starting toward the dovecote. “We’re disturbing the falcons.”
As they strolled along, she flirted with the new possibility. To marry a friend. To live without the one responsibility I’ve dreaded my whole life. To fear nothing, as Sir William claims to do.
Sir William. She was promised to him, and he wasn’t a man to be gainsaid. If by some miracle he released her from the obligation, she’d still be acting against the king’s wishes. Only yesterday, she’d stood inside Woden’s Circle and insisted that she understood duty. Sir William had seemed to believe her. She couldn’t betray his trust.
She halted in front of the dovecote and contemplated the inscrutable pattern of vines clinging to its round, rock walls. Then she closed her eyes to absorb the mellow, flowing calls from the birds within.
“I cannot do it,” she said at last.
Gertrude’s face crumpled into a mask of disapproval. “Why ever not?”
“Sir William is a man of honor.”
“You owe him no loyalty.”
“I gave my word.”
“Will you give him your maidenhead? He will demand it, and you know he can take it.”
Emma stiffened. “He can try.”
Gertrude stepped backward. “Well,” she said, “I, for one, would like to see that battle.”
****
High on the crenellated battlement, William paused to admire the keep’s commanding view of the countryside. Beyond the hum of the bailey, sheep grazed on the castle banks, and a patchwork of manor lands stretched far and wide. The fallow fields lay quiet, but others teemed with villeins whisking their scythes through golden shoots of barley. The sight reminded him of the malty smell of newly brewed ale, and the harmony possible between a land and its people during peacetime. ’Twas good to see a harvest of crops instead of human lives.
Malignant memories slithered through his mind, but he axed them and focused on a flurry of movement below. The huntsman, accompanied by his assistants and hounds, plodded across the drawbridge. No doubt the party headed for what the locals called the Long Wood. A part of William longed to join them, to lose himself in the thrill of the chase.
“Ah,” a deep voice crooned.
William started. His brother stood beside the stairwell, not ten feet away.
“How long have you been there?” William asked.
Robert sauntered over and joined him along the parapet. “Long enough to know you were brooding again. On the morrow, you shall have a beautiful wife and more land than many barons. Yet you look as though you’ve been commanded to take up gong farming.”
“If I had, I’d insist that you join me.”
“I needn’t shovel shit to nose it.”
“No? What could possibly be ranker?”
“Your moods.”
William threw him a caustic look. “You should be a court jester.”
“And squander my humor on those who would appreciate it? Never.”
William grinned. “The sword does suit you better than the rattle.”
“I should hope so. It saved your arse more than once, not to mention mine.”
“I’d rather not discuss your arse.”
Robert bowed dramatically. Then he straightened and cocked his head toward the hunting party. “What I wouldn’t give for a rousing hunt. It seems ages since our last one, and a world away.”
“Aye,” said William, “but we’ve no time for that now, not with the impending arrival of our guests.”
“The men know your instructions. They’ll be armed and watchful, and resplendent in their gear. The squires must’ve spent half the night polishing blades and mail.”
“Good. Aldred will be on the lookout for any sign of weakness.”
“Have you questioned Lady Emma about him?”
A pair of sparkling violet eyes invaded William’s thoughts. “This morning.”
“And?”
William peered into the distance, but he could feel Robert’s keen gaze on him. “Our discussion was most illuminating.”
After a brief hesitation, Robert said, “Would it kill you to elaborate?”
William grumbled. “Her opinion of Aldred is as foul as ours.”
“And Wulfstan?”
William’s jaw tightened. “I’m told he’s a paragon of
virtue.”
“Then the lady holds him in high regard.”
“If he were any higher, his privy would endanger the angels.”
Robert laughed. “I see.” He clapped a hand on William’s shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”
“Of what? A lisping, deluded wizard?”
“He lisps?”
“He will, minus a few teeth.”
“Ha! Mayhap you should be a jester.”
“Not likely.”
The stairwell came to life with the clunk of leather boots stamping on stone. Seconds later, Geoffrey appeared. His cheeks were flushed, and sweat glistened on his forehead.
The squire gulped a lungful of air. “Sir,” he breathed, rushing forward. “I had to find you…to tell you. I cannot believe what I just heard!”
“Calm yourself and speak plainly,” William instructed.
Geoffrey nodded. “As you requested, I checked on your new peregrine. While I was in the mews, I heard two women outside. One of them was Lady Emma.”
The squire hesitated. His wide, amber eyes looked from one knight to the other.
William felt a sting of warning in his gut. “Go on.”
“They were talking about the wedding,” Geoffrey said. “Lady Emma doesn’t want it. She’s plotting against you, sir. She wants to marry Wulfstan and run away tonight!”
William’s peripheral vision faded. Molten rage tested the limits of his control, but he contained it.
Robert swore under his breath. “William, what will you do?”
In a voice as smooth as a dagger’s edge, William said, “I will speak with my wife.”
Geoffrey shifted his feet. “Shall I fetch her?”
“No,” said Robert. “Allow me.”
William regarded his squire. “Return to your work, and tell no one what you heard.”
“Understood,” said Geoffrey. He hurried down the stairs.
William turned to his brother. “Find her and bring her to the prison tower.”
“What?” said Robert.
“’Tis empty, is it not?”
“Aye, but—”
“Do it. I’ll be waiting there.”
“Your anger is just, but the prison tower?”
William gritted his teeth. “She would dishonor me and defy the king,” he said. “If she wants to act like a traitor, let’s treat her like one.”
Chapter Five
Finally alone, Emma wandered up and down the vegetable garden’s neat, straight rows. She felt more like herself than she had all day. She’d made the right decision. Honor and duty were sacred.
So was honesty. There she had faltered.
Her experience with Sir William was limited. Yet his words, behavior, and reputation all attested to his integrity.
And I would make a mockery of it, she thought. I would stand before our guests, Father Cedric, and the holy cross…and lie.
She couldn’t do it. Despite the risk, she would tell Sir William of her intentions before the ceremony. He deserved that much. Then he could stay or go, and she could face her future with a clear conscience and her virginity intact.
She turned toward the keep, and her stomach dropped. Ten yards away and gaining fast was Sir Robert. His expression looked as black as the hair that framed it. His steel-gray stare was hard and unwavering.
He stopped in front of her. “My lady,” he said tightly. “My brother would speak with you.”
She endeavored to smile, but his demeanor thwarted her. “Of course,” she replied. “Please take me to him.”
Not a word was spoken as he briskly led her through the courtyard, into the keep, and toward the tower farthest from Ravenwood’s entrance. But when he started up the tower stairway, she hesitated.
“Why are we here?” she asked. “Is Sir William inspecting the prison quarters?”
“No doubt,” Robert said without a glance in her direction.
“Aren’t they satisfactory?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
More perplexed by the minute, Emma followed him up the spiral stairs. When they reached the top, he ushered her into the small, unfurnished chamber. It seemed a hollow shell after the busy, bright expanse of the bailey.
William stood before the cold hearth with his back to the door. His commanding presence diminished the sweeping arch of the vacant fireplace.
“Leave us,” he ordered without turning. “Shut the door behind you.”
The heavy, oak door slammed shut. The stone walls reverberated from the force of it.
Emma studied the sheen of William’s straight, black hair, the proud set of his shoulders, and the wide, leather belt which cinched his ebony tunic at the waist. An eternity might’ve passed while she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. When at last he turned, his dark eyes blazed.
Her stomach lurched. “Y-you wished to see me?”
He glowered at her in silence. A chill of foreboding ran through her, but she stood her ground.
A full minute later, he still hadn’t spoken. Her patience waned. If he expected her to read his mind, he could think again.
She cleared her throat. “You obviously need time to collect your thoughts, so I’ll leave you to them.”
“You will stay right here,” he ruled in slow, measured words. His scorching gaze belied his smooth tone of voice. “I sent for you to discuss your betrayal.”
She swore under her breath. Someone must’ve divulged her plan to stay celibate. If only she’d told him sooner.
“I can explain,” she said.
“Save your breath. There’s only one explanation.”
“You said ‘discuss.’ A discussion requires two opinions.”
“An opinion laced with lies doesn’t count.”
“But if you—”
“Silence!”
His shout echoed off the prison walls. Her stomach churned, but she clamped her lips shut.
“Now,” he said, lower in pitch, “listen and learn. A traitor can challenge the king’s reach, but only a fool underestimates mine. My men know this. Legions of Saracens—alive and dead—know it. Wulfstan will know it too.”
“What has Wulfstan to do with this?”
William grunted. “You play innocence well.”
“Truly, I know not whereof you speak!”
“I speak of your escape…tonight…with Wulfstan.”
“What?”
“My squire was in the mews while you were plotting your little scheme.”
“Holy Mother!” Emma cried. Frantically, her mind snatched up the pieces of what was said and where. “’Twas Gertrude’s idea.”
“A welcome one, reportedly.”
“I considered it, but—”
“So you confess.”
“No! Your spy heard but part of the conversation. In the end, I chose you.”
William snorted. “Right. And I sell genuine relics of the saints.”
Emma glared at him. With quick, deliberate steps, she closed the space between them.
“Then I’ll fetch my purse,” she said, “for I speak the truth.”
“I am no fool.”
No, she thought, but you’re a veritable god of arrogance.
A lord of intimidation, too. Why else would he summon her to the prison tower? With dispatch, her desire to explain the curse, and its implications to their wedding night, died.
For an instant so brief she might’ve imagined it, his expression changed. He looked almost…wounded.
“Does the thought of marrying me so disgust you?” he asked.
His dark, infinite eyes became her world. “Not at all,” she said.
Large, warm hands clasped her upper arms. “Is Wulfstan your lover?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Tyrant.”
His mouth claimed hers. She wrenched her head to the side, tried to break away. His grip tightened. His lips demanded more.
Emma thought fast. She couldn’t matc
h his physical strength. But maybe, if she didn’t resist, didn’t react in any way, he’d release her.
She willed herself to relax. Almost at once, his lips slackened. They became softer, gentler. Intrigued, she relaxed further.
His lips brushed hers and left a tingling warmth in their wake. She liked the sensation, but the longer he fed it, the more she wanted the full pressure of his mouth. A low sound of protest vibrated deep in her throat.
William moaned, and his hot tongue nudged her closed lips. To her, it seemed a curious action. Not unpleasant, though, so she opened her mouth. His tongue slipped inside and began a slow, thorough exploration. In response, she flicked her tongue against his.
He groaned. The sound was raw, exciting. His hands burned a path from her arms down to her hips. His tongue darted deeper, faster. Her mouth tingled. Heat tantalized her belly. Never had she felt so alive.
A fierce pounding at the chamber door broke the spell. Brusquely, William released her. A little off-balance, she straightened her spine and smoothed her tunic.
“Enter,” William commanded.
The door swung open. Robert stepped inside and looked from William to Emma.
Her cheeks might as well have been aflame. Could Robert tell, simply by looking at them, what occurred in his absence?
Robert studied her for a moment, then regarded his brother. “The watchman spotted riders,” he reported. “Two men approaching from the north.”
“Our wedding guests?” William questioned.
“It appears so,” Robert replied.
“Their timing is extraordinary,” William muttered.
Emma snuck a glance at William. His expression was unreadable, and she could only assume his relentless will had conquered both his thoughts and his countenance. But she hadn’t imagined his passionate kiss. Her lips still tingled.
The storm had passed. Yet she had no clue whether William believed her or not.
“Everything’s in order,” Robert continued. “I trust you’ve resolved your business here.”
William turned to Emma, and his black eyes held a glint of humor. “I’m satisfied…for the moment,” he said. Then he offered her his arm. “Shall we greet our guests?”
She hesitated, then placed her hand on his arm. His heat crept into her fingers and insinuated itself into her being.
Ignore it, she told herself. “Aye,” she said aloud.
Together, they started toward the stairs and left the prison behind.
Flight of the Raven Page 4