by Amber Dane
The pain of his behavior was suffocating and Alexa picked up the hoe and threw it down between them. It landed between his booted feet. He did not flinch. But the surprise of her movement shone in his eyes. Alexa whipped around and stormed away from him before she did much worse.
Rourke ignored the dark look from Goran and stomped down the hillside headed for the village.
Let her spit and steam.
He growled aloud, scaring a group of birds from a nearby tree as he passed it. Villagers, seeing his dark look hastened out of his way and by the time Rourke reached the blacksmith’s hut, he was still in a most foul mood.
The blacksmith was not present and his wife stood tall in the warmly furnished cottage. She smiled at him and something about the way she tilted her head reminded Rourke of Alexa and something in him quieted.
He was letting these old feelings toward Jacqueline destroy the little happiness he had started to share with Alexa.
He turned and headed back toward the manor. Snowflakes hit his cheeks and he looked up and heavier snow started to fall. Good. He needed the distraction for his long trek back to the manor.
His cruel words had hurt her. He’d seen it plainly in her eyes. His heart ached with what he had done. Once the words had started to flow from his mouth, it seemed like he’d no control over them. She’d been right.
He should have waited to speak about the babe when they’d been alone.
But seeing her and the way his body had reacted had angered him so that he’d not been able to think straight.
What if she were barren and unable to give him a son? Would he be able to live with that?
Rourke shook the gut wrenching thought away. He could only hope she would speak to him when he came to ask her forgiveness and return to their chamber. And ask her he would, not demand. She was right. He had thought they were past that too.
She was asleep and did not stir when he finally came into Lisbeth’s chamber. Rourke thought she feigned at first, but upon closer inspection and the stains of her tears present upon her cheeks, he knew different.
Pain gripped his heart and a low groan escaped his lips.
He caressed her cheek and she stirred beneath his fingers, turning onto her back and knocking the fur off her upper body.
He should not have procrastinated and come earlier. She had not sought him out either. But why would she? He’d given her no reason to.
‘Twas he who had attacked her with his words.
Feeling like his heart had been cut open and left to bleed dry; Rourke pulled a woolen coverlet over her. He stood and watched her for a long time. Time had come to put his past behind him. At the mere thought, something tightened within his chest. Then he looked at her sleeping face once more.
He had to do it or lose much more.
TWENTY-NINE
Alexa, despite the gloom of her mood, worked around the manor early the next morning leaving her dead to the world husband slumbering and snoring loudly away across the hall. She was not going to let him know how deeply he’d hurt her. So she kept herself busy seeing to things around her home and had plenty done by the time she heard his bellow to Goran announcing that he had come down.
She went in the opposite direction of his deep voice and nearly tripped over Lina in her haste to get away.
The maid quickly backed away, but not before Alexa caught the hint of the secret smile upon her face. Anger sparked in her at the thought of Rourke sharing the woman’s bed. Something churned in Alexa’s gut. She watched the maid’s back until she disappeared around a corner. Time had come for her to clean her house and she would start this day. Rourke’s bellow came again and Alexa turned away.
Goran brought a sentry into the hall and Rourke lifted his head from his uneaten meal and brooding thoughts.
He had no appetite.
He grunted when he spied Alexa out in the hall looking in. He grew more irritated. He’d wanted to start this day by setting things right. Now he had to deal with this interruption.
She pretended to be instructing the servants on something, but he knew she had one ear open to the dirty and dust covered sentry that stood before him.
He had come to report that there was some unrest amongst the villagers at Rourke’s estate further north of York. Rourke frowned over the news.
He ordered a servant to bring more food and drink for the exhausted sentry. The man took a seat at one of the trestle tables. Goran remained next to Rourke.
“I’ll go,” Goran announced.
Rourke shot him a quizzical look. “We’ll both go.”
“’Tis probably a fight between a family or two, Rourke. I doubt it’s aught more. Furthermore, as your friend, I think ‘tis best you try to mend the unrest here.”
Rourke’s face darkened and his eyes shot to the entranceway. Alexa had gone. He turned back to Goran. His friend did not look happy.
“As my friend, eh?” Rourke stood.
“Aye. You must make things right, Rourke. Trust me. Everyone will be grateful. So will you if you but open your eyes to see it.”
“Go! Send word back if it is more than angry neighbors, friend.” Rourke ordered and stepped down.
Goran’s light laugh came behind him. He knew what Goran was getting at. But he was ahead of his friend. He’d already vowed to make things right this day. He went in search of his wife.
He didn’t even know where to begin when he caught up to her at the top of the staircase. She barely turned to acknowledge him and the tightness in his chest ballooned. Alexa said nothing and continued to walk down the long corridor.
“I wish to speak with you.” Rourke cleared his throat, surprised at the hoarseness he heard.
She stopped and turned, but did not look at him. Instead she pretended to find great interest in the sleeves of the simple gown she wore. He noted then he liked her in breeches more. She looked uncomfortable.
“As you wish.” was all she said.
“In our chamber.”
Her head whipped up and he sucked in a breath. Anger and her hurt lay there open and wild in her amber eyes. Yet she faced him with a challenging stance.
“Does this not suit your needs this day?” she waved her hand out to indicate the occupied corridor.
Rourke set his teeth. He’d not be repeating the painful blunder he’d made yesterday. This time he wanted no ears hearing anything that was said. He waved away the guards and servants filling the space.
“Nay. What we needs discuss is for our ears only.” She raised a brow and he continued, “As yesterday should have been.”
Something flickered in her gaze and he watched her swallow. Aye, he had hurt her greatly indeed, Rourke thought.
"Do you plan to escape me again?" the words left his mouth before the bedroom door closed.
Alexa turned to face him. Her throat worked and she shook her head. "Nay."
Relief rippled through him. "Where had you planned to go the last time?”
"What is this trivial stuff you speak?" her words were angry and he deserved it. Yet she waited.
"I wish to discuss this…our marriage."
She said nothing and he did not know he held his breath until she simply walked over to the bench and sat down. Her hands neatly folded in her lap and her eyes on him. She would give him audience and Rourke was humbled. He walked near and sat on the bench across from her. She never took her eyes off him. He wanted to take her in his arms and wished it were all they needed to repair the rift between them. But her eyes told him his answer. He would get no forgiveness here. He had to earn it.
Rourke inhaled slowly. He did not know what to do or how to correct the damage he'd done. He was a man of war. He did not love her so professing his love was out. With that thought his heart felt heavy. When his words came, they were angry and spoken gruffly. "Think your womb is barren?”
The chalk white look of her had him scrambling. Rourke spoke quickly a hand out in front of him to calm her. "I’m not starting this off very well, am I? I mea
nt if you are barren there is not much we can do about it. Only time will. Think you I can repair the damage I’ve done?”
There, he’d said it.
He’d apologized.
Rourke straightened his shoulders with confidence and sat back with a fist on his hip.
Alexa swallowed hard over his words. His aim was not to hurt her. This she saw plainly in his open gaze, but his words still stung nonetheless. Gallant he certainly was not. She believed she understood what he was trying to convey, but she did not wish to speak of it again.
He went on when she said nothing. "When you are done with your time…bleeding…then we shall try again."
He made it seem like a prison sentence. She wanted to tell him nay. But she did not. Frustration crossed his handsome face at her lack of response.
He asked, irritation lacing his tone. "Much has happened I know. Do you wish for this to work between us?"
"As best as it can be done, I imagine." her simple answer did not please him.
He shot to his feet. Had he expected her to just fall into his arms like a smitten maid and be grateful that now he had come to offer some semblance of an apology- a bad apology at that, that she would swoon and all would be forgiven?
Nay.
Any feelings she'd had for him, he'd smothered in the past week with his behavior. She still hurt and a few simple words would not change that. Lifting her chin, Alexa stood and faced him. "Will that be all?"
Anger flashed in his bright green eyes. Alexa blinked and what she thought she'd read was gone. Of course. She had seen what she'd believed and wished. Hurt. But since he was incapable of feeling anything. 'Twas impossible.
His next words confirmed it. "Aye. Return your person back to this chamber this eve."
She nodded in agreement to his order. He stormed out and Alexa pressed a hand to her breast and leaned out the window for air. Damn him!
She had thought he’d come, but Alexa admitted to herself that she’d not been so sure. He stood in front of her now with that mad man expression he’d worn the day he’d bound her in those chains. Still she wouldn’t back down. He walked from the door to where she stood at the foot of Lisbeth’s bed. She fought off the urge to turn from him and waited while he cursed and spit his anger.
He’d been yelling for the past half hour it seemed and she had not budged.
Alexa said again for the third time. “I told you I had fallen asleep. I am weary. I do not see why the morrow will not be soon enough.”
“You were told this eve, Alexa. Is it your wish to drive me mad with your steadfast defiance? You will return to our chamber at once, even if I have to carry you there myself! Sleep there if you are so weary. I am the master here. This means your lord and master.”
He was prepared for her blow and caught her long arm in his and turned her, her back pressed against his chest and her arm twisted behind her. “I know what you plan before you do it, hellion.” She struggled and he held her tighter, continuing, “I would release you, but I fear I cannot trust you.”
“Best you remember it then.” She spat.
Rourke growled and trussed her up in his arms and strode across the hall where he dumped her in the center of the bed. She surprised him when she did not crawl off. She just stared at him.
Rourke shut the door and crawled into bed. She continued to shoot him the murderous stare. After a moment he muttered, “Go to sleep.”
“You cannot command everything. I am not tired.”
He reached out and his fingers dug into the upper part of her arm. “Did you not just say moments ago it is what you wished? Make up your mind, woman! Sleep now or find your legs spread with my rod inside of you. Blood or not. Think you that will make you tired enough?”
A horrified gasp dropped open her mouth and Alexa tried to wrench free of his grasp, but he held fast. She managed to elbow him in the gut. He laughed and clasped her hands in one of his in front of her.
She kicked her feet and thought about her retort. She snapped her mouth closed, outraged and said, “You are truly a Norman pig!”
He shook her hard and when his other hand snaked down over her belly she cried out.
“Nay!”
“Then go to sleep, hellion!”
His growl of warning was next to her ear. He released his grip and waited. Her body rigid against him and he heard her release an angry huff. He said nothing.
He had not lied to her. As hot as he was for her, the discord between them had tired him beyond and he sought nothing more than sleep too. Had he been able to muster his rod to cooperate she could not stop his use of her body.
A tingle stirred in his loins. Perhaps he was not that tired after all. His hold tightened around her waist and loosened suddenly when she moaned.
He had been so wrapped up in his lusty and angry musings he hadn’t realized she lay pliant against him now. Her warm curves relaxed and soft against his side. She had fallen quickly asleep.
Disgusted with the feel of her against him and her harsh words earlier still ringing in his ears, Rourke made space between them and gave her his back. Dawn was near by the time sleep came for him.
THIRTY
The noise coming from outside drew Alexa from the hall out into the courtyard and into the midday sun. She halted. The king’s banner blew in the light breeze and the herald dismounted and approached her husband. Rourke stood with his axe by his side and from the clothes in which he was dressed; Alexa knew he’d been practicing. After unraveling the parchment, the herald began to read in French, “By sovereign right-“
“Give it to me.,” Rourke cut him off with a wave of his hand. The man reached into his cloak and withdrew a thicker parchment sealed with the king’s seal. “Come inside.”
Alexa met Rourke’s gaze when he turned and saw her. He looked past her just as quickly without a word and entered the manor. Alexa, trepidation burning in her chest followed behind them.
Alexa stood inside the entrance of the hall, her eyes watching the herald while he watched her husband break the seal on the parchment.
Rourke’s face did not change as his eyes scanned the contents and Alexa itched to know what it held. But at the moment she was too focused on trying to discern the herald’s nervous tick. He looked out of the corner of his eyes in her direction for the briefest of moments and her eyes shot to Rourke to see that his eyes rested steadily on the man as well. The herald’s small eyes roamed everywhere but where they should have been- on the lord in front of him.
Although the little man kept his hands clasped behind his back, Alexa from her view could see the clenching and unclenching of his fingers.
He wore the royal garments and colors, yet, something about him simply was not right. But, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Even the tips of his ears were reddening. His odd behavior put her ill at ease. She swept her gaze back to Rourke. His expression had not changed. Perhaps that was it. Her husband was known for the fierce countenance he possessed, to leave a man shaking in his boots. Nay, it was more than that, Alexa thought and pressed her lips tight.
Rourke lowered his head and spreading the scroll out on the table that separated him and the man, he read the document without a change in his expression. Alexa inched her way near hoping to glimpse a view of the contents, but he closed it and lifted his head without looking in her direction. She twisted her lip in consternation. He faced the man, but she knew just by the set of his jaw, he’d been aware of what she was about. She hung back. He didn't seem the least bit concerned by the herald's twitching.
“Is there something amiss, man? I must say you do not look well.” The deathly calm of Rourke’s voice hung in the room.
The herald started nervously, “Forgive me, Lord. Your name strikes fear in the toughest of men and your presence is, well- a bit overwhelming, if I must say. Only a fool with scrambled brains would dare think to stand against you.”
“And are your brains scrambled?” Rourke challenged threateningly.
“Nay, Lord
.” The bump on the man’s throat bobbed, his eyes widened in fear as he licked his lips in fear. “I am quite well and bring only the king’s word to you.”
The man blinked rapidly and more sweat beaded on his brow. The tick in the herald’s left eye told Rourke he’d hit truth and deceit. Damn it to hell!
"King William handed you this directly?" Rourke’s deep timbre rumbled in the room and the man seemed to lose a shade of color.
Then, with a thrust of his jaw, the herald replied, "The king's advisor handed it to me himself. Do you doubt the seal you've just broken, Lord?"
The man had responded quickly enough, but Alexa still caught the nervousness in his tone. The look Rourke sent him had Alexa’s own knees knocking. The moment seemed endless and just as she thought Rourke would kill the messenger where he stood, he rolled his shoulders in a threatening way, legs spread and crossed his arms over his chest and spoke once more.
"If it proves you have lied, I will hunt you down and you will feel my namesake tear your flesh, old man. You may go."
Alexa heard the man swallow as he bowed and made his hasty exit. Rourke called two of his own men over for a word. He spoke too low for her to hear and Alexa wanted to take a step near. But she dared not. His dark look never left her during the discussion. Soon the two men left and she eyed the scroll in his fist. She approached the table. He watched her every movement and she burned under his gaze.
"I do not like this. Something about this is not right."
"Think you I am a fool?" His hiss of restrained anger swept over her. She didn't care. A feeling stirred in her gut and she cast all aside.
"Nay. You are lord of Barnett and no one's fool." She met his arched brow with her own and continued, "I do not mock you, Rourke. The little man's behavior just put me ill at ease."
"He was a funny little man, was he not? Nonetheless, your worry is for naught. ‘Tis the king’s seal. Oftentimes I’ve seen men behave thus in my presence."
Alexa wanted to smack the smug look off his face. She was all too aware firsthand the fear the man could bring upon someone. But this time she felt it was more than that. He acted flippant about it, but the tightness in her stomach told her it was something else. He excused the man too easily, but Alexa could not. But trying to explain it to him would be wasted. Already he seemed to have forgotten the man’s strange behavior.