Sword for His Lady

by Mary Wine

  “Dare I hope you are eager to see me?”

  She was shaking her head before she recalled her purpose. “In sooth, I was seeking you. Or your captain.”

  The baron’s grin faded. “Bring your needs to me, Isabel.”

  He was using her Christian name on purpose. There was a glint in his eyes that dared her to take issue with the familiarity. The intimacy.

  You are overly sensitive…

  Perhaps she was, but Ramon was overly sure of himself.

  “Since my squire has yet to rise, you may assist me.”

  “I think nae…”

  He raised one eyebrow and his lips curved again, this time into a full, arrogant smile. He opened his arms wide, making his shirt billow and split open farther to give her a glimpse of his powerful chest.

  “I will happily stay in naught, if that pleases you.” He reached down and grasped the bottom of his shirt. “I did not dare to hope the needs that have you searching for me were of so personal a nature.”

  She jumped forward, pressing her hands against his chest to keep the shirt in place. His body was warm against her fingertips, setting off another spiral of sensation in her belly. She gasped, recoiling, but he followed her, pressing back against her and trapping her hands beneath his.

  “I should like to discover more of our reactions to one another.”

  She tried to tug free but he stepped toward her, backing her into the wall. Her eyes widened as he planted his hands on either side of her, caging her.

  “I made my position clear, my lord.”

  His eyes were full of promise. “As you can see, I am very good at changing your position. I suggest we try many different positions.” His tone was dark and alluring but his words were a reminder of cold, hard reality.

  “Aye, men enjoy putting their wives into whatever places they like.”

  His expression tightened. “You accuse me unjustly. One man’s sins are not another’s to answer for.”

  “You are the one holding me against the wall.”

  He shrugged, the motion drawing her attention to just how powerful his shoulders were. The scent of his skin drifted between them, drugging her, dulling her wits.

  “And you put your hands on me first.”

  “Only because you were going to…to…” Her memory offered up a crystal clear recollection of what he looked like in only his skin, and her breath got caught in her throat.

  He chuckled softly, lowering his head so that his lips hovered next to her ear. “I never make idle threats.”

  She growled and shoved at the wall his chest made in front of her. “Enough toying with me! The sun is up and only a fool wastes daylight.”

  “You tempt me to sin, in more than one way.”

  She gasped.

  He grunted but moved aside. “Be pleased with me, for I am bending to your dictates.”

  He moved back across the floor and scooped up his tunic from where it was lying over the back of a chair. A length of wool was laid out on the floor in front of the hearth, marking where he’d made his bed.

  “You are not bending to my will.” She had no idea where the persistence to argue with him came from, only that she had no control over it. “You are not an idle man.”

  He looked at her once he’d donned the tunic. “My actions are both.”

  Her lips suddenly twitched and she shook her head. There was a ridiculous urge needling her to flutter her eyelashes. She’d already done it twice before she quelled the impulse.

  “Why do you question me, Isabel? What reason have I given you to doubt me?”

  His tone was sincere, drawing her toward him as she tried to read his expression. There was a clink as he pulled his sword belt around his lean hips and secured it. His squire came hurrying into the room when he spied his master already awake. Ramon lifted his hand and the boy skidded to a halt. The lad turned and left.

  Ramon retrieved his sword from where it was lying on top of his bedding and sheathed it. His boots made soft sounds on the stone floor as he closed the distance between them once again.

  “You are correct; I am not idle, nor do I care for guessing games.” He stopped in front of her and stared at her. “Why have you set your mind to argue against a match between us?”

  “Why have you set your mind to accept it?” His eyebrows lowered but she didn’t give him time to reply. “For if it is your own holding you crave, you do not need to wed me for it. I will show you where my quarry is and you can have the stone you need to build the castle you want.”

  “You have a quarry?” His tone had dipped low, his eye narrowing.

  Disappointment swept through her. It really shouldn’t have. She should have been pleased to see him realize he didn’t need her keep. Yet, the feeling persisted and settled into her chest, like a hard stone against her heart. But she nodded.

  “So you see, you do not need Thistle Keep.”

  He clasped the pommel of his sword, staring at her from behind a hard mask. She stared back at him, letting the sight of his displeasure sink into her. This was the reality of what men were—hard and calculating. They always had a purpose.

  “I would like to see your quarry, Lady.”

  Lady.

  Of course he was formal now, for there was no reason to woo her.

  So why was she not pleased?

  * * *

  They heard the stone workers cutting before they saw them. Isabel controlled her mare as Ramon’s war horse nipped at her. The mare hurried forward, trotting down the winding road that led into the quarry. It was a huge cliff of rock; the workers pushed the moss back to reveal it. Every stone of Thistle Keep had been carved from it, and many of the buildings on her husband’s family grounds too. The stone was valuable and might be sold or traded for the things her land did not provide.

  Men looked up, lifting their hands to shade their eyes and see who was coming.

  The baron’s flag caused an uproar. Men whistled to the other men working farther up on the rock face. They began to stumble down. Many of them were older men, some were the lucky survivors of the king’s last Crusade. Several limped from wounds they’d endured while fighting in the Holy Land. They staggered to the bottom of the rock face where a wagon was being loaded.

  Isabel slid off her mare, but Ramon swept the area twice before dismounting. His knights were equally untrusting. Ramon looked up to see that four of his men had remained on the crest of the road where they might see any trouble approaching. But Ramon stopped and looked at the large stack of finished stone. She only sold off small amounts in order to keep her quarry secret, so the remainder was substantial.

  “The king does not know you have this,” Ramon said.

  “I have not deceived him.”

  Ramon cast her a knowing look. “Yet you have not gone out of your way to let him know your full worth.”

  Isabel didn’t lower her eyes.

  “I pay my due, my lord, but make sure my people have enough to thrive.”

  Ramon slid his hand along the edge of a stone block. “You do, and quite cleverly too. But you would have been wed long ago if it were known you had such a prime source of stone on your land. You would have more coin in your coffers if you had sold off some of this, but that would have drawn the attention of prospective grooms.”

  It was true. Her cheeks colored slightly, but she didn’t look away because she couldn’t deny how pleased she was. “Is it so terrible to want to be seen as something more than a resource?” For a moment, she saw understanding in his eyes. It was the last thing she expected. “I suppose you know something of that position yourself. How many years did you ride with the king?”

  “I barely recall a time when I did not.”

  She nodded, finding them oddly equal in that moment.

  “Men are not the only ones who can manage an estate well.�
��

  His expression hardened. “Yet you have no means of protecting what you have.”

  Her chin rose, pride warming her blood. “I have a stone keep to bar against invaders. One built with stone that I discovered. No one suspected there was naught here but more marshland. I found this place and my husband ignored me because as a woman I could never know the difference between worthy stone and that which is not.”

  Surprise flashed across his expression. “Well done, Isabel. Well done, indeed.” His lips thinned. “But why were you this far from the keep?”

  She walked past him to greet one of the senior stone masons lined up and waiting for them. The older man squinted at her but reached up to tug on the corner of his wool cap.

  “Do not let me keep you from your work.”

  The man nodded but looked past her to where Ramon stood. His squire was standing beside his lord, holding a pole with his master’s tenant flag fluttering in the breeze. None of the masons moved.

  Of course not. Ramon was the highest ranking person there. It was for him to dismiss those waiting.

  Isabel felt her temper flare. Ramon locked gazes with her, giving her a glimpse of the unmovable side of his nature. Of course, she’d already decided that there was nothing bendable about the man. Still, the look he gave her made it clear he knew he was trampling her authority.

  Men.

  “Ambrose.”

  Ramon’s captain quickly dismounted and approached his master. “Survey this site. I want to know what resources we have to work with.”

  Another stab of disappointment went through her, frustrating her completely.

  What ailed her? The man would be gone soon and it was exactly what she craved.

  Liar.

  She bit her lip as she felt a tingle of heat in her belly. It worked its way lower, until it was between her thighs. Somehow, she must have sinned greatly to be so cursed now.

  Yet she discovered herself fascinated by the surge of lust. Oh yes, she knew what it was, even if she had no experience with it. She glanced at Ramon, taking the opportunity to study him while he was engaged in conversation with the master mason.

  The heat remained, growing stronger as her skin rippled with awareness. Her clothing felt tight, her breasts heavy. She’d tried so hard to cultivate such feeling for her husband, but had been left with nothing but disgust when she looked at him.

  Perhaps she was being punished for her pride. The priest liked to remind her that running Thistle Hill was a man’s duty. But she was the one who had managed it and she wasn’t interested in repenting. Not a bit. She turned and found her mare. Tugging her gently over to where a rock protruded from the ground, Isabel gained the saddle and turned the animal around.

  “Hold.” Ramon’s voice bounced off the exposed rock face, shocking her. She twisted around to glare at him.

  “I have duties to attend to.”

  “You will not risk your person riding alone, Isabel.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She sunk her teeth into her lower lip to keep from spitting out what she truly wanted to say. Defiance was boiling up inside of her. A few moments more and she was certain there would be no way to contain her temper. She turned and kicked her mare into motion.

  The horse took to the road easily, happy to be leaving the rocky area where there was nothing to graze on. The mare carried Isabel up the road, granting her a moment of relief as Ramon was left behind.

  But his men closed in on her, coming down from their position on the point and forcing her mare to stop. She reached down to pat the side of her mare’s neck.

  “Allow me to pass.”

  One of the men shook his head, his mail shirt catching the morning light. “I cannot, lady.”

  “You certainly can.”

  The man tightened his expression, distaste in his eyes, before he kneed his horse and came toward her. Her mare tossed her head, letting out a sound of distress. Isabel grabbed at the reins, clamping her thighs around the animal to maintain her seat. Ramon’s knight plucked her off the back of the mare with ease.

  She squealed but landed in front of the man. Her thigh smarted from the edge of his saddle as he spurred his horse back down the road.

  “You have no right,” she hissed.

  The knight offered no response. He guided his horse to his master and pulled up on the reins. Isabel took her chance to be free, sliding down the side of the horse and jumping away from the powerful animal the moment her feet touched the ground.

  She collided with another hard body. Ambrose had a similarly tight expression on his face. He lifted her up, with firm hands on her waist. Ramon reached out and hooked her with a solid arm, pulling her over the front of his horse.

  She snarled as he sent her all the way over, until her head was hanging down and her bottom facing the sun. Ramon turned the horse and sent it into motion. The beast’s powerful stride made it impossible to roll over and sit up. She was bounced right back down. Her head was bouncing with every stride, turning her stomach until she reached for Ramon’s leg, clutching at it out of desperation.

  Once her head stopped bouncing, she heard the other riders joining them. Their snickers were low but she heard them. Her temper boiled over. She twisted and curled up, straining her body but demanding that her muscles perform.

  Ramon clamped her against his body the moment she succeeded in sitting up. His chest rumbled with a growl that twisted her insides again.

  Only this time, she knew what she felt was lust.

  For him.

  Her temper burned hotter than she thought possible. She shoved against his chest, but ended up having the small rings of his chain mail shirt pressed into her palms.

  “Be still,” he ordered.

  “I shall not,” she snapped, but her breath got caught in her throat when their gazes locked. There was promise flickering in his dark eyes. Promise that excited her.

  The motion of the horse made it impossible to keep her distance from him. She ended up in his embrace and prey to another invasion of her senses. This time, the assault came from the scent of his skin. Her face was pressed into his neck, leaving her no option but to draw her breaths next to his skin.

  He smelled good.

  Christ! Was there no mercy?

  The man was intent on owning her. She needed to keep her mind set against allowing him such power.

  And yet, his embrace was not unappealing.

  Ramon rode right up to the steps of the keep. A cloud of dust was still settling when he let her slip to the ground and followed her.

  “You had no right to place rough hands on me,” she snarled.

  He bent over and tossed her up and onto his shoulder in response. Someone squealed as he stomped into the keep and kept going up the stairs. He carried her right up to her bedchamber before setting her down and closing the door with a kick. The sound of it slamming shut echoed down the tower.

  “When it comes to your safety, lady, I have no intention of debating if it is my right or not. I am a knight, it is my duty.” He set himself between her and the chamber door.

  “I ride my land often. Never have I feared it.” She put her hands on her hips, facing off with him. The need to put him in his place was so strong, she shook with it. “Nor do I wish to start.”

  “Circumstances have changed.”

  “Of course you believe they have.” She laughed dryly, out of despair. “For you view me as something to add to your holding. So of course I must now change my thinking to suit yours.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. Anger was flickering in his eyes, but he fought to control it. Seeing his effort made her bite back the next barb she wanted to fling at him.

  His attention lowered to where her teeth were set into her lower lip. He gave her a tiny nod of approval and drew in a deep breath.

  “
Hundreds of men have returned with Richard. Hardened, fighting men who have no masters and no home. Half of those men cutting stone have the look of men who know what fighting is. They all know you are an heiress. Who could your people send out if you were taken?”

  “They would never harm me. I pay their wages and give them shelter through the winter.” She turned and caught sight of her bed.

  Was she really having a passionate conversation with the man in her bedchamber?

  She turned around and tried to fight off the sense of vulnerability sweeping through her. Temper was suddenly of no use, for it was another form of passion.

  Something Ramon had promised her he would satisfy.

  “Those men have brethren who are not willing to seek out honest employment. Men who will be drawn to land belonging to a widow with no garrison.”

  She shook her head. “I do not want to hear this. Life is full of uncertainty. There is no point in dwelling on it.”

  He reached out and cupped the side of her face, slipping his hand along her jawline and into her hair to hold her steady.

  “You will hear it. When it comes to your safety, there will be no discussion. I will act.”

  His touch set off a wave of craving. It washed through her, pooling deep inside her and leaving her wanting.

  Wanton…

  She stiffened, trying to break away from his hold. She twisted and heard him muffle a profane word before he released her.

  “I will have my way in this, Isabel. Resign yourself to it.”

  She turned to face him, her robes flaring out. “As I must resign myself to seeing you claim everything I have built here?”

  “You cannot protect it.”

  Her longings died in a sizzle of icy memory. Defeat was looming over her, as great and hulking as the man in front of her. “And you shall take what you please.” Tears prickled her eyes. Fighting them back was the only thing she might do.

  “Yet the choice to wed is still yours.”

  She was still blinking away her tears, her vision blurred. When it cleared, she studied him, trying to discover his purpose. He chuckled at her confusion.

  “Do you think I lack an understanding of kindness?”