by Ashley York
The ground thundered beneath her. A horse. Tisa ran to a tall tree. Throwing herself flat against it, she wrapped her arms around its trunk. The horse came at her out of the darkness, silver chains tinkling, just missing as it passed. She sagged against the tree, her breathing ragged. The sound of the horse slowing a short distance away could be heard, then coming nearer again, picking up speed. Tisa held her breath. She dared not move.
The horse stopped, the dirt from its hooves pelting against her mantle. She turned her face away. Someone strong grabbed her shoulder, flipped her around and backed her against the tree.
“What do ye here?” Even in the darkness she recognized the biting tone of Gerrit. There was no attempt to control his anger. His leather-clad fist gripped her chin. “I could have run ye down!”
Tisa tried to free herself. He pressed his body against her, pinning her flat against the rough bark of the tree, planting one foot between hers.
“I will not ask again.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his breath hot on her cheek.
“Nothing! I was lost.”
“In the woods?” His bright blue eyes couldn’t be visible in this darkness but she’d swear she could see them, piercing into hers, searching her.
“I was lost.”
He released her chin and she jerked away. His body relaxed against her, a solid weight, making it difficult to take a breath. Time dragged by but she refused to look at him. Surely he would tire of this game and leave her.
“Meeting a lover?” His low voice startled her. It was the same seductive tone he’d used on Breandan. A ripple of fear slithered like a beetle down her spine.
She swallowed her fear and faced him. “I am not!”
“Oh, I think ‘tis true. And who would yer lover be? Who would dare to take such liberties with the chieftain’s daughter-in-law?” His voice quiet, Gerrit searched down the front of her. The devilish smile gleamed in the darkness as he removed the leathered glove with his teeth. “Ye’re a comely lass. Pleasing to look at. I’d wager even more pleasing to touch.”
He slipped one hand beneath her wool and she gasped, his hand hot enough to singe where he laid it flat against her. With his other hand, he guided her face back to him. A gentle touch this time, as if he needed to look into her eyes.
“Have ye never felt a man’s hand on yer breast?” He cupped her breast and moved his face in close, his lips against her cheek as he spoke, “Or his mouth suckling ye here?”
She jerked her head away but he continued touching her, stroking against her nipple. He nuzzled into her hair, his breath coming faster. He slid his foot to widen her stance despite her desperate struggle against it. Skimming down the front of her gown, he pushed his fingers into the material and grabbed between her legs.
“Dunna.” Her breath hitched, a sob in her throat she refused to release.
He began leisurely fondling her through the thick material, rubbing against her most intimate spot. When she grabbed at his hand, he caught her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth to kiss her palm. A wet kiss she couldn’t wipe away. His shadowed face before her, he intertwined his large fingers with hers, bringing them above her head.
“Methinks ye’ve never had a man.” With great deliberation, he did the same with her other hand. She struggled against his grasp but he pressed his stiff cock into her, simulating the act. “Pity yer husband prefers a tight ass to yer sweetness. All the better for me.”
She swallowed again, unable to take a breath. She would not be giving her consent to this.
He stilled. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, as if smelling something quite pleasant. She smelled only his stench.
“Mmmm. Yer desire calls out to me. Begging me to take ye.” He opened his eyes. A slow smile spread across his face. By handfuls, he dragged up her gown until he touched her bare skin, his hand slipping back between her legs.
“Cease!” Tisa yanked against his hand that held both her wrists motionless.
He remained unperturbed. “Ye need to slake yer passion.” A probing finger stroked her. “And if I see to it, ye’ll never be satisfied by another.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Nae.”
He slipped his finger deep inside her, moving in and out, rocking his hips against her to the rhythm of his hand.
“Yer body says yea.”
He watched her as if able to measure her reaction.
“Methinks ye want to ken the pleasure I can give ye.”
I do not.
“Ye long to be taken.”
Not by you.
His mouth was hot on hers.
He broke the kiss and spoke against her lips, “Ye’ve done well, covering for yer husband.” His shoulders shoved into her, holding her in place so tight that the jewels of his brooch bit through the material and into her flesh. He reached down to free himself. “Everyone questioning whether Darragh has, indeed, been able to perform for ye. Humph. I ken better.”
His long, rigid tarse pressed into her hip, hot and silky against her naked flesh.
“I’m eager for ye.” His breathing labored. He spread her legs wider still and angled himself at the juncture of her leg.
Tisa took a deep breath and stiffened against the inevitable.
“Release her!” Malcolm had an arrow trained at Gerrit’s head. “And I mean this very instant.”
Immediately released, she dared not move. Gerrit took a step back, his hands open, indicating no resistance. He took a deep, steadying breath and turned away from her.
“Now why did ye need to stop me?” Gerrit sounded sincerely disappointed. “She’s a comely woman that deserves to have a real man.”
“A prick does not a man make.” Malcolm’s voice was menacingly quiet. “Cover it up or I’ll cut it off.”
Gerrit adjusted himself and half-turned toward Tisa, a smile on his face. “Another time. My apologies for having aroused ye so and leaving ye unsatisfied.”
“There’ll be no next time.” Malcolm towered over the man. “Ye’re not man enough for her.”
As soon as Malcolm lowered his arrow, Gerrit swaggered to his horse and mounted. “Methinks I’ll have to find another to quench the fire ye set in me, sweet little Tisa.”
He galloped off into the night as if able to see right through the darkness.
“He’s the devil himself.” Tisa quivered in a breath. Intense emotion washed over her. Rage. Disgust. Humiliation. The jumble of emotions made a mockery of her attempts to right her clothing. And the tears came.
Malcolm took her in his arms. “Forgive me for not being here sooner. Darragh was worried for ye and sent me.”
Gerrit had opened her eyes to things she did not want to know. Feelings she had no use for. She felt dirty. Thomasina had a perfect marriage and a man that cared for her in all things but Tisa had empty dreams with no future promise of happiness. Her body racked with sobs.
Malcolm remained silent. No doubt, he knew he wasn’t the one she needed comfort from. Who then? There was no one to comfort her. Not now. Not ever. She hated herself for succumbing to tears and struggled for composure, pulling back from Malcolm.
“My thanks for coming to my aid. It was Aednat. She was trampled by a horse and broke the bones in her wrist. I tried to help her.”
The big man’s eyes widened. His anger, barely contained, was more intense than she’d ever seen it. “Mistress, I warned ye. Ye need to stay away. It was probably Gerrit who ran her down.”
“Please see to her.” Tisa wiped at her nose.
Malcolm stood his ground, his face tight. “Listen well. Their life has been decided by another and we canna change that fate. We may be able to ease their discomfort but their destiny will not be changed.”
“Mayhap when Darragh becomes chieftain.”
Malcolm barked a laugh. “Sweet lady. He is the same as his father.”
“Nae. He can be kind.”
“He does not question his father’s way. He will be the same. The strong must stay together. The w
eak must be banished.” Malcolm paused before speaking again. “Take care for yerself. The banishment of the outcasts will not be changed but ye may become a casualty as well if ye get in the way.”
Tisa took a shaky breath, rubbing at the bruise above her breast where Gerrit’s brooch had pierced her. Her fingers came away wet. “I need to go to my husband but I need to wash first.”
“I will see ye safely home. They will not start the feast until ye are present.”
At the entrance to the roundhouse, Malcolm opened the door for her but remained outside. She questioned him with a look but he gave no hint of what he was thinking. He only said, “I will wait on ye here. I will explain to Aodh that I will be remaining here with ye.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
~
TISA FIXED A SMILE to her face and entered the hall. Everyone’s eyes were on her. Thomasina made no comment if she noticed the change of gown.
“My sweetness,” Darragh stood to meet her then lowered his voice. “Are ye not well? Ye look...different.”
She tightened the smile. “All is well. Beg pardon for keeping ye from yer meal.”
Darragh helped her to her seat then settled beside her. Sean’s eyes missed nothing, she felt certain. Thomasina turned away.
Aodh stood. “Ah another celebration from our new allies, the O’Brien. Sean and his lovely bride, Thomasina, grace us with their presence. By the looks of the snow, they will be spending some time with us.”
He lifted his golden mug and the rest did the same. Tisa took a hefty swallow and put down her empty cup.
Darragh’s eyes on her, he asked, “What is amiss?”
She shook her head, the smile still stretched across her face. The dark man entering by the back door turned toward her. He assessed her with eyes a stormy blue. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.
She motioned for more drink but shook her head at the clay pitcher. “Something stronger.”
“Is there anything ye need to tell me?” Darragh’s concern was beginning to irritate her.
“Nae.” Her face felt ready to crack. Either that or she would stand up in front of all these people and scream until she could scream no more.
She accepted the golden cup filled with the same drink Aodh and Ronan enjoyed well into the night. Ronan was nowhere to be seen. “My thanks.”
Tisa coughed on her first swallow but took another which went down easier.
Darragh continued to watch her. “Do ye wish me to stop asking ye? Ye need but tell me.”
“I wish ye to stop asking me.”
The liquid pooled in her stomach, radiating heat through her body. The sounds around her became distant. The watchful eye of the villagers and soldiers before her seemed of little consequence. Her body relaxed. It was just as well since all was beyond her ability to control. Happiness. Joy. Love. A life worth living. All were ethereal, at best. She raised her empty cup for more.
Sean could not begin to guess what had transpired since he’d last seen Tisa smiling with his wife but something certainly had. Her face was pale and tight as a bowstring. One wrong word and she would, no doubt, let loose.
“Sean,” Aodh turned to him, “I would make known to ye our kinsman, Leofrid.”
Sean’s chest tightened. Leofrid? Certainly this could be a different Leofrid than the one Ivan—that miserable, little curd—had taunted Sean with. Even offering him escape from a promised beheading if Sean but joined in Leofrid’s fight against the Normans.
“Pleased I am to make yer acquaintance, Leofrid.”
“Nae, the pleasure is mine to meet such a fine warrior as yerself. Yer skills are legendary.”
Sean was not fooled into smugness by the flattery. He tipped his head, “Surely they are exaggerations. No more.”
“Oh ho, I think not. Not when any other warrior would be falling over himself to accept the accolades for the battles ye have been ascribed to winning. Yer ability is well known across this fair island and beyond.”
He tensed. “Beyond?”
“As far as England.”
Taking his glass, Sean forced down the mead and struggled with the best approach. “I have just come from England.”
“Have ye? It has been some time since I was there.” Leofrid looked at his lady, avoiding Sean’s eyes. “But I hope to be there again before very long.”
“Is that where ye hail from?”
“I lived there for a time just as I have lived here.” He smiled at Aodh who also scrutinized Sean, stroking the length of his gray beard. “Truth to tell, I am at home in both places.”
“Aye,” Aodh said. “And what were ye about in England?”
“Rescuing my bride.” Sean took Thomasina’s hand and kissed her palm. There was no need to explain he’d left to rescue one woman and came back with another. “It made for a worthwhile trip.”
Thomasina seemed to have little interest in the others at the table, barely glancing their way. Mayhap she was not feeling well. He selected the best beef for her, holding it to her mouth.
She smiled at him, her eyes shining, and accepted it.
“Is the cow to yer liking?” Aodh asked.
Sean moved in to kiss her, licking the bit of juice from her lips. “She is very fond of beef.”
“Beef? Ye sound like a Norman,” Aodh scoffed.
Sean’s gut tightened but he kept his breathing even. “Aye. That is what they call the meat from a cow, is it not?”
“They do.” Aodh held his cup up for more to drink. “Those arrogant Normans.”
Sean shrugged, feigning an indifference he did not feel.
Ivan had spoken ill of the Normans at every opportunity just as Aodh was doing. Sean would not side against the Normans, especially not when Tadhg’s sister was married to one of King William’s favored knights. Peter had also come to Sean’s aid when he’d been wrongfully arrested. Even offering his protection as well as that of Lord John, one of the most powerful men in all of England. “They are of little interest to me since they are there...and I am here.”
Across the many tables, most were paying no heed to what the head table discussed but there were exceptions. The leather-clad man had come in late. Sean recognized him from their earlier encounter and his interest in Thomasina. Thankfully, Thomasina paid him no notice but the other warriors did.
The man had the eyes of all the soldiers scattered about the room. That he listened intently to their conversation was very telling despite his attempt to appear uninterested. Sean bristled. Liberties taken were not easily dismissed and if given an opportunity, he would gladly take this one down.
“Is that yer man?” Sean took a bite of the food, tipping his head to where the man leaned casually against the wall. A younger man brought him a platter and received a stroke to the side of his head and a smile.
“Aye. My man,” Leofrid answered. “Gerrit.”
Tisa dropped her platter, causing a disturbance beside Thomasina. Many servants came forward to assist with cleaning. Tisa offered apologies although her gown wore the brunt of the mess.
“So clumsy of me.”
“‘Tis fine.” Darragh’s concern seemed genuine. “Are ye not well?”
Tisa was visibly shaken and Malcolm came forward to offer his assistance. “May I see ye back to yer home so that ye can change?”
She scanned the faces of the hall. Everyone’s eyes were on her. The faces were not kind but suspicious. Many whispered behind their hands. A surge of pity swept over Sean.
“Where is Caireann?” Tisa asked.
“She is not present, mistress,” Malcolm said.
“Mayhap we can go back with ye.” Sean stood then addressed Thomasina. “My wife and I are happy to accompany ye.”
“The hour is still early. There is no need for ye to leave,” Aodh blustered beside Sean.
Darragh immediately turned his attention to his father, nodding in agreement. “True. Surely ye can stay, Tisa? We have much to celebrate.” He lifted his cup.
Sean offered his arm to Tisa and helped her from the bench. “If she is up to returning, we shall do so.”
“Malcolm, my wool?” Tisa asked.
The big man held it for Tisa, wrapping it tightly around her. Sean was disgusted to see Darragh back in conversation with his father, all concern for his wife forgotten. Leofrid told his lady something that caused her to laugh. Sean was glad for a way to escape if only for a short time. The oncoming snow would ensure he was unable to quit the place any time soon. He would use that time to discover if this was, indeed, the Godwin who thought to take back England from John and Peter’s King William and if so, was he a viable threat? What he would do with the information, he would have to decide then.
CHAPTER TWENTY
~
Tisa breathed deep, filling her lungs, before blowing it out.
She addressed the man behind her. “My thanks, Malcolm, for convincing Thomasina and Sean that ye could see me settled here.”
She reached toward the door then stopped. “My humiliation is deep enough without having to convince them I am fine.”
“Mistress, the humiliation ye speak of is not on ye. Ye did nothing to deserve the treatment ye received.”
“Will ye tell Darragh what ye saw?”
“To what purpose? The man will not be reprimanded for his behavior. But I will do whatever ye bid me to do.”
She shook her head. “I thought...well, ye told him of my dream.”
He shifted behind her. “I thought little of the man at the time and was belittling him. ‘Twas wrong of me. He is not the man I had believed him to be. I beg yer forgiveness for my transgression.”
But the man was exactly what Malcolm had believed. It was merely a tragic play she and Darragh performed for everyone’s benefit. “Think no more on it. Ye have been a good and loyal friend to me.”
Tisa pushed the door open and stopped at the unaccustomed blackness. A moaning sound came from the far left. Malcolm stepped in front of her, his dagger at the ready as he moved toward the sound. There was a scent in the air she almost recognized and struggled to name—blood.