Her Northern Warlord: Norman Lords: Book Three

by Hannah West

  She was no longer a young woman but a wee child of four. The towering man came closer, his dark eyes flashing like cold steel with a sneer on his face.

  “Come here, pretty girl,” he crooned in a sickly sweet voice. “If you come to Father, I will not make it hurt worse.

  Blindly she looked around for a way out, but to late did she find one. A large hand gripped her arm and she tried to fight. She watched in terror as a meaty fist came toward her face.

  She remembered the shocking pain, the taste of iron in blood inside her mouth as it ran in a thick rive from her split brow.

  Evelyn sank to the ground with a bone chilling scream of terror after a look of horror dawned in her eyes as he reached for her.

  Great racking sobs shook her body as she cried and pled for mercy.

  Cesare was aghast at the sudden change in her. What could have triggered this?

  He quickly bent down and gently took her shoulders in his hands to sooth her, but she thrashed wildly against him.

  “No, Papa! Please no, I shall be good! D-don’t hit me again, pl-please stop!” she cried.

  His heart wretched and dropped to the pit of his stomach. She had to be reliving her nightmare. He had do so for many a year after battles.

  He took a firmer grip on her and gave her a shake.

  “Come too, Evelyn!” he demanded of her giving her another shake. “You are well, no one shall hurt you.”

  As she continued not to hear him and struggled against his hold he gritted his teeth and pulled her into his arms. He sat on the cold stone floor holding her and murmuring she was safe in his arms.

  After a while her struggles grew weaker until she went limp in his grip. Cesare made sure she was unharmed and then settled back in place.

  Pity welled within him. He had known of the abuse of her father, knew of her nightmares. However he did not know that it could affect her in such a way.

  As she lay limp in his arms the warmth that had been missing in his chest returned.

  He looked down at her pale face and wished he had not let her go, wished that she could be the one he kept.

  Things had changed and had grown more complicated then he could have imagined. He longed for her and could not imagen not having her here, but soon she would leave as another’s wife.

  Yet he could not wed her. William expected Cesare to marry one of his goddaughters and he could not say no to the man who had given him everything. Plus there was the matter of not knowing her true parentage.

  He could not marry her, but he could make sure she didn’t go to a man like her father. At the least William would do so for him, if he asked. For Evelyn he would do whatever he needed to.

  And for now she needed him, so he tightened his arms and waited for her to come back to him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Evelyn sat up and regretted it when the room spun and her head pounded. She put her head in her hands hoping it would stop.

  “Glad to see you awake, my lady,” a deep voice rumbled next to her left.

  She groaned.

  “You had me most worried.”

  She peeked between her fingers and saw his expression was earnest.

  “Why am I in bed?” she asked. She tried sifting through her foggy brain, but the memory wouldn’t come to the surface.

  “You do not remember?” he queried.

  “Nay, I do not,” she sighed. “Please tell me. The last thing I truly remember was you coming into my rooms uninvited. She cast a glare his way.

  His expression was pained, as if he was not sure he should tell her.

  In the end he looked down at his hands. “I am sorry for what happened.”

  “What happen? Tell me,” Evelyn insisted.

  He didn’t speak for the longest while and in the end he sighed rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I am not too sure myself what really happened. But for now you are unwell and need rest,” he said softly, rising from his seat.

  Evelyn capture one of his hands to stop him. When their hands touched she felt a jolt of something. She felt the heat of his hand in hers and paused a moment to enjoy his touch.

  “Tell me,” she said looking at their hands.

  He hesitated and she could tell, so she looked up giving his hand a squeeze.

  “We may not be friends anymore, my lord. However I see no reason we cannot be honest to each other,” Evelyn said softly, searching his eyes.

  “I just do not wish to upset you,” he admitted finally. “You have had a rough time of late with more yet to come.”

  “Without suffering you will never truly know how to be grateful for what you have,” Evelyn said with a smile. “Mags use to tell me this when I was a child.”

  “Do you miss her,” he asked, his hold on her hand tightening.

  She smiled sadly, but fondly. “Aye, I do. More than I care to admit. She was the only one real family I had there.”

  Evelyn patted his hand clumsily with her healing one. “Now tell me and be done with this.”

  “When I reached out for you, you suddenly fell to your knees screaming. You called out to your father and begged for mercy.”

  The blood drained from Evelyn’s face and her blood froze.

  “I did,” she asked stricken.

  He nodded and she just sat there numbly.

  “It’s happened before,” she managed to get out weakly. A few times at the abbey. One of the monks had been cruel but a few times it got worse. Every time I was struck it happened. Sometimes even when all they did was come too close to me. I had been very young then and suddenly one day no more men or monks were allowed near me. After that Mags never left my side.”

  She picked at the blanket for a moment then went on, “It only happens after I panic. I had been worrying over what kind of man I would be forced to wed. Thinking he would be a man like my sire and suddenly you were there and very angry.”

  When she looked over to him he seemed troubled. Frustrated he blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

  “If things could be different,” he started.

  “Then you would change them but you cannot. Things will work themselves out. Besides most men will not want a damaged wife, so I am safe from most. I do not relish being a prize, but I do understand.”

  Looking toward her window and the sun of a new day streaming in she rose from the bed. He rose with her and walked over to the door.

  “I must order a bath and dress for this day as much is to happen. Thank you for caring, my lord,” she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “But I think it best if you do not anymore. For I can bear no more of it lest I break apart.”

  Gently she pushed him into the hallway and closed the door on his expression.

  He had seen her greatest weakness and instead of putting her aside, he had comforted her.

  She had known the she had to let him go, before she no longer could. She had come to desire more than his body and attentions. Evelyn had grown to care almost too deeply for him.

  Before she fell in love with him, she had to set him free. It would have not been fair to either of them. It hurt now, a deep pang in her chest, but her heart was still whole, not shattered. Not yet.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  Cesare had thought he had put an end to their relationship, when in truth she had done that just now.

  Her kiss had been a final kiss, a good bye kiss stung as he felt the hollow feeling of finality. That had been it. They would share nothing anymore.

  Something that had bloomed inside of him since meeting her had died with that last kiss. Whatever had become tender and kind.

  Mood poisonous he went to the lists to train with his men. He took out his frustrations and anger out with his sword and fists.

  After his tenth man knocked to the dirt he barked, “Another,” as he wiped sweat off of his brow with an arm. He watched as his men backed away, none willing to come forward.

  “Are you all a bunch of kitchen wenches? On
e of you come face me, be a man!” he snarled.

  “I’ll give you a match if you are stewing for one,” a voice called from the back.

  William walked forward taking off his fur cloak and unsheathing his mighty sword.

  “Looks as if you are a bit prickly,” William mused as he came forward. “Why are you so? Problem with your mistress per chance?”

  “Shut it, cousin, and come at me,” Cesare bit out at his cousin.

  William raised a brow. “Testy.”

  Cesare growled and lunged forward. He did not notice when the list began to fill with hopeful spectators and nobles, hoping to get a good view.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Someone pounded franticly on Evelyn’s door and made her jump nervously.

  She rushed over to the door and opened it without thinking. “What is going on?”

  Outside the door stood the young maid who had helped her since Evelyn had arrived at the castle.

  Winded from her run the girl managed to get out, “Lord Cesare,” she gulped, “in a fight!”

  Evelyn gave the girl a confused look. “Every time he trains, he fights.”

  “No,” the girl said with wide eyes, “they fight to draw blood. He is spitting mad and will not see to reason. I fear for him if he does not stop. You must come and make him see reason, my lady!”

  She wanted to help.. Oh how she really wanted to, but could not help him without treading upon silent agreement of their ended friendship. Not to mention it could be the final event that broke her.

  Besides what could she do in a sword fight? Her arm while mostly healed was still almost useless, she could grip anything enough to hold onto it but not for long.

  “My lady,” the girl pleaded, grabbing her hand to pull her.

  She looked into the girl’s wide fearful blue eyes.

  “He might die,” the girl said once more.

  Burned with frustration and torn by choice she cursed for the first time in her life aloud, using words she had heard Lord Cesare use.

  “Damn it to hell,” she spat as she ran for the lists and didn’t stop to see if the girl followed.

  Quickly running out of breath she paused by a window that looked out over the lists and saw a crowd had formed a mooning circle around two mud covered men who were fighting. Evelyn drew in a breath and ran down the stairs to the main hall.

  As she got to the lists she pushed and shoved to get through, taking an elbow to the chin, jarring her teeth. She gritted her teeth against the pain and forged on.

  The crowd had turned into a mob, chanting and shouting out cheers. It followed like water around a boulder.

  When she could finally see through the blasted people, she watched as the other man lunged for Cesare, but he had been ready for the other man’s move. Cesare side stepped as the man flew pass him and Cesare brought the hilt of his heavy sword down on the man’s skull sending him sprawling limp into the mud.

  Evelyn gasped at the brutality of the strike.

  Both were covered in mud and blood and Evelyn could not tell how injured they were.

  She caught the murderous black look in Cesare’s eyes and knew he didn’t care if he killed the man or not. Without thinking she ran toward the men.

  “Please dear god, do not let him,” she whispered as she ran, the mud sucking at her beslippered feet.

  Just as she came in front of the man lying in the mud, Cesare had lifted his sword.

  “No,” she screamed at him, “Cesare you must stop this!”

  The moment he realized someone had come between them was a moment too late as he had already started to swing.

  With clear horror dawning he realized in was her too late.

  So she closed her eyes and waited for the bite of steel.

  The crowd around them erupted in to screams and shouts, but it all seemed to fade away as time slowed for Evelyn.

  She waited for the sting of pain but after a long moment she peeked open an eye to see the blade just at the edge of her throat. She swallowed nervously and felt a prick at her neck then warmth dripping down her throat.

  Evelyn looked into his face and saw the expression twisted with guilt and horror, his eyes wild with fear.

  He cast away his sword as if it had burned his hands and stepped forward grabbing her shoulders and shaking her.

  “Are you daft,” he bellowed, “What is with you and running in front of swords? I could have killed you!”

  “I could not let you kill him. You are not that kind of man.” She looked up at him and smiled weakly. “It is alright now.”

  “No, it is not,” he bit out watching the blood trickle from the shallow cut on her neck. “I have cut you once more,” he rasped.

  “That is merely a scratch, my lord,” she diverted as she tried to get free of his hold on her. “Let me go. I must see to the man you brained. For your sake I hope he is not dead.”

  When he did not let her go she yanked away from him and heedless of her fine silk skirts dropped to her knees in the thick oozing muck next to the man. Carefully she looked him over. Other than half a dozen shallow cuts a good knock to the head the man would be fine after some rest.

  She was surprised when blue eyes blinked dazedly at her and the man tried to smile before trying to get up. She tried to support him as best she could but he was a very large man.

  “Are you quite alright? I am sure Lord Norfolk is most sorry for his actions,” she said with a glare over her shoulder at Cesare.

  The dirty man sat up with a rusty laugh. “I am fine, my dear. Perhaps a bit sore.” His blue eyes turned serious.

  “It was a very brave thing that you did. Jumping in front of his sword. Why did you?”

  Suddenly aware of all the stares Evelyn flushed and ducked her head.

  “I did it because you looked like you needed help. I would help anyone who needed it,” she explained and helped him gain his feet.

  “What be your name, my lady?” the man asked after a moment.

  “I am Evelyn, my lord.” She gave an awkward half curtsy.

  He grinned at that. “You may call me Will.”

  She grinned back. “Nice to meet you, Will. Are you here to compete in the games?”

  His eyes widened in the surprise before he tilted his head back and let out a deep thunderous laugh.

  “Nay, my girl. I am here to watch. I never miss a tournament if I can help it. Do you truly not know who I am?”

  “Yes, you are Lord Will,” she answered honestly and simply. “I am afraid I do not know much of the peerage. I have been at the convent until recently.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. Thank you for your much needed kindness, there are so few people who would do something so selfless for another they did not know. You are a fantastically strange, young woman. May we meet again,” he said with w elegant bow out of place with his mud coated state.

  After that he simply turned away and left, the crowd parted for him in silence.

  When he was gone she turned back to where Cesare stood.

  “I am glad the both of you are fine. Now I must go and change.” She looked at him a moment to calm her nerves and then she turned away. “Good day, my lord.”

  “Evelyn,” he said softly for only her to hear, “I am most sorry.”

  She back stiffened and she gave a small nod before walking away with her head held high.

  Other than a slight quiver in her lip, she gave no emotions away.

  As Evelyn entered the great hall the king’s god-daughters saw her and tittered.

  “She looks like a be-ragged orphan,” one of the sisters said distastefully.

  “Or a beggar,” the other agreed with a nasty laugh.

  Done with the attitude of others for the day, Evelyn had finally reached the end of her understanding to be kind to all others no matter what.

  She walked over to the table they were seated at and slammed her good fist on the table.

  Everyone jumped, startled.

  “Enough wi
th your vile tongues,” Evelyn snapped coldly, “Why must you be miserable to inflect in on others. How ugly!” She sniffed and walked away.

  She had been tempted to laugh at their shocked expressions, but she was still shaken by what had just happened in the list.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Over the next four days the rest of King William’s guests had arrived setting up all their fine tents around the soon to be tournament field. Even a few bands of Scottish Lairds and their men had also come to compete.

  However Evelyn saw nothing personally as she had locked herself away in her chambers since the fight, claiming a bad headache.

  Only Emma had come to visit to bring food.

  Evelyn’s newly founded friend as it happened to be the maid that had been the maid to help her during her stay.

  “I know you do not want to go out, however you must. The tournament starts tomorrow and you will be introduced to the men who have entered. Same as the other ladies. You must dress up and not in the plain gowns you favour. You are the daughter of a duke; no matter he is dead, and ward of the new king. You are a royal noble and you shall be dressed as so,” Emma declared.

  Evelyn worried her lip about to say nay, and then an idea came to her.

  “If I am as important as you say, I will need a lady-in-waiting, not a maid. So you shall become mine and you shall dress finely too!”

  So shocked was she that she sat gaping at Evelyn in stunned silence.

  “Glad you like the idea so much,” she said with a laugh. “I am not much for fine things, however for one day it could not hurt. Besides he gave everything in this room to me. Whatever you want shall be yours as well. There is more in here then I would need in a life time.”

  Suddenly animated Emma shook her head. “I could not. The simplest of these gowns are so costly I could never pay it back no matter how many years I work.”

  “Posh. It is a gift. You shall need several dresses and many other things if you are to be with me. We are friends, we must share. Today we pick out our gowns, tomorrow we wear them. I shall need you to hold my hand tomorrow lest I run away. Tell me of who has come for the tournament.”