As she yelled his name, Aurora felt him tighten. Felt the flex and release. Felt each one of his muscles coil as he drove her higher. Legs wrapped around his hips, she egged him on, meeting him with equal measure. With a shout, Brigham threw his head back. Lost in the euphoria of orgasm, he bared his teeth, fighting for control. Holding on hard, Aurora watched him from beneath the safety of her lashes.
Awe suffused his expression. His breath hitched on her name.
And in that moment, Aurora knew. Finally understood the reason for his loss of control. For the physical aggression and his need to hear her tell him she loved him.
He loved her in return. Fierce. Strong. And true.
But he would never say it aloud. Never tell her. Mayhap never admit it to himself either. Unable to stand vulnerability of any kind, he battled the perceived weakness. Would no doubt do so forever. Which should’ve bothered her. Every woman, after all, longed to be loved…to hear the words. But as she watched him, Aurora learned something surprising. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care whether he ever found the words to tell her. Not now. Not ever. Knowing he loved her was enough. Was, in fact, everything.
Actions spoke louder than words. And Brigham’s more than most.
Heart so full of him, she could hardly breathe Aurora let go of the footboard. As he went warm and heavy against her—relaxing in the heated curl of afterglow—she hugged him close, kissed him softly, and murmured her love. He yearned for reassurance. She vowed to provide it…as often as his warrior’s soul needed her to.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Nowhere to Hide
Stretching her arms above her head, Aurora arched her back. The wooden seatback pressed into her shoulder blades as she twisted to alleviate the stiffness. Sore muscles unlocked, and she blew out a long breath. Bookkeeping ad infinitum. Hour upon hour of being closeted in Brigham’s solar. Staring at list upon list of Mornay’s inventory. All while fussing with number-filled columns that funneled into a stream of addition and subtraction.
Not her favorite thing. Nor the way she preferred to spend her time.
Raising her hands, she rubbed both her eyes. Time to stop. She couldn’t see straight anymore. And in truth? Hadn’t been able to for well over an hour.
Aurora shook her head, wondering why she’d agreed to the task in the first place. The question was a good one, and the answer? Elementary. No real mystery at all. She knew why, along with where to lay the blame…at Brigham’s feet. The big brute. He manipulated her without shame, using passion to…well, trick her, for want of a better explanation. Deep in a fog of carnal heat, she lost all semblance of control. Which, naturally, played to his advantage. Aurora sighed. She really must learn to pay more attention when he made love to her. Otherwise who knew what he might ask of her…
Or what she might be persuaded to do for him next.
With one last stretch, Aurora closed the ink bottle and cleaned Brigham’s writing quills. Leaving the ledger open for his inspection, she pushed her chair back and, skirting the edge of the desk, crossed the chamber. She needed some fresh air. After being cooped up all morning, she was more than ready to get out of the keep and into the outdoors. ’Twas time to go gallivanting. A good plan. Her mare would no doubt be brimming with impatience by now, eager to ride out on their habitual excursion.
Reaching the door, Aurora cracked it open and peered into the corridor. She looked both ways. Empty. Thank goodness. She wanted to escape before anyone waylaid her with a pressing problem or concern. And of a certainty, she must avoid her husband. If she didn’t, her plan was doomed. The moment Brigham spied her, he’d back her into a corner—mayhap even drag her into their chamber—for what he liked to call a “mid-morning snack.” Which meant she wouldn’t make it out of the keep, never mind all the way to the stables, so…
Aye. No question. Dodging him had just become priority number one.
Footfalls quiet, she hurried out of the solar. Keeping low, she raced on tiptoes down the corridor. She glanced over her shoulder. So far, so good. No murmur of voices. No thud of heavy boots. No noise at all. Halting in front of her chamber door, she palmed the handle. Metal clicked against metal, the soft snick echoing against stone walls. With a grimace, Aurora pushed the heavy panel and, without making a sound, slipped inside. Paranoid beyond measure, she bent over, cracked the door open a sliver and peered into the— “Ah, good. You are just in time.”
With a screech, Aurora whirled around. The wooden door slammed shut with a bang! Both hands pressed over her heart, she scowled at the idiot seated in front of the hearth. “For the love of all that is holy, Nate. I swear you are trying to kill me.”
He laughed. “Nay, but ’tis most amusing to sneak up on you. Your reaction is always so gratifying.”
She rolled her eyes. He grinned, and her attention strayed to the pile of navy blue fabric in his lap. “Sewing?”
“Aye.” Trapping a pin between his lips, he snipped a wayward thread, then held up his latest project for her inspection. “Come and try it on.”
“What is it?”
Putting the pincushion aside, he stood and shook out the material. “Your new cloak.”
Her brows collided. “But I have no need of one. The mantle Quin gave me is good as new and—”
“Your husband thought differently. He instructed me to make you one in his colors.”
Happiness spun deep. Score another point for her brute. Thoughtful didn’t begin to describe him. Nibbling on her bottom lip to keep from smiling, Aurora stopped alongside her friend and reached out to touch the cloth. Soft and thick, the fabric caressed her fingertips. Lined with luxurious ermine, the navy material shimmered in the firelight.
“Oh, Nate. ’Tis beautiful,” she whispered, tracing the emblem of Mornay. Embroidered in amber thread, the crest sat just above her heart. Perfect in every way. “You have truly outdone yourself.”
Mischief in his eyes, Nate raised a brow. “Do you like it as much as the bow and arrows Brigham gave you last week?”
She laughed, thinking about her new redwood bow and feather-tipped arrows. “Aye, I like it as well but…mayhap in a different way.”
“By the saints, you are an oddity,” Nate said, tossing her an aggrieved look. “Most ladies would be appalled to receive such a gift and demand a trinket instead. But nay, not you.”
“Well, ’tis a magnificent set.” Completely true. Much appreciated too. She adored her husband’s gift…along with his generosity. Besides, the bow and quiver full of arrows was only fitting. Brigham was a warrior and, as such, had given her what he considered most valuable—a weapon. “Now I may hunt while I ride each day, as I did with my father.”
With a grumble, Nate threw the cloak about her shoulders and pinned the silver brooch encrusted with large sapphires. “Well, you’d best be on your way then. You will be missed if you do not appear at the noonday meal.”
“My thanks, Nate.”
Pausing long enough to fetch her bow and quiver full of arrows, she left Nate to his sewing and exited the keep by way of the back stairs. No sense dilly-dallying. She wanted to leave the castle grounds. Which meant she must locate her guards. And quickly, if she planned to go hunting. The thought made her grin. Amazing, but she no longer tripped over them wherever she went. Although she admitted after having Tobias and Nigel at her heels for weeks, it seemed odd not to find the pair there.
But she didn’t care. The guards’ absence signaled a new day…and Brigham’s willingness to change. No other explanation fit. God, he’d made such an enormous concession—letting go of the past, allowing her freedom…deciding to trust her. The show of confidence touched her soul deep, leaving a mark on her heart. Aurora’s throat went tight. Incredible man. A godsend in more ways than one.
A bounce in her step, her quiver slung over her shoulder, Aurora crossed the inner bailey and entered the stables. Shadows loomed as the horse to her left snorted in greeting. Fresh straw crackled beneath her feet and dust motes drifted through a
patch of sunlight as she patted the pretty palfrey and peered into the gloom at the rear of the stable.
Nothing and no one. All quiet on the equestrian front.
“Louis? Are you within?” Stroking the mare’s soft muzzle, she tilted her head and listened, waiting for the telltale grumbles of the stable master. “Louis?”
“Hold yer horses, lass.” The growl came from somewhere near the middle of the stable. “Ye’d think there was a fire or some such nonsense, the way yer carryin’ on.”
Aurora bit her lip to keep from laughing and paused midway down the aisle. Listening to the stable master’s aggravated muttering, she waited for the shock of white hair atop his nearly bald head to pop up over the edge of a nearby stall.
Of an indeterminate age, Louis was a permanent fixture at Mornay. And had been since the Norman Conquest, were any of Brigham’s guards to be believed. A first-rate grump, he scowled at everyone. According to rumor, his bad temper had been set in motion when he discovered his Scottish mother had had the audacity to burden him with a French name. Difficult and fractious, he rubbed all the guards the wrong way, was almost impossible to deal with, and…
Aurora positively adored him.
“Yer late, lass,” Louis said, the irritation in his tone contradicted by the sparkle in his eyes when he spotted her.
Seeing his scowl, Aurora smiled in return. “I am. You may blame my husband. ’Tis entirely his fault.”
Louis grunted. “Aye, well, be that as it may, yer lady’s been frettin’. Stirrin’ up all kinds of trouble, she has. Been tryin’ tae soothe her for the better part of an hour.”
Aurora’s stomach dropped as she followed Louis into the rear of the stable. “Is everything all right, Louis? She’s not unwell, I hope?”
“Nay, nothin’ like that. She’s just anxious is all…missed her mornin’ run now, didn’t she?” Louis threw a frown of disapproval in Aurora’s direction. “Is needin’ tae stretch her legs some.”
“I’m in need of that myself, Louis.” Her lips twitched as he glared at her. “Will you ready her for me?”
Plunking his fists down on his trim hips, Louis’s eyes narrowed on her. “Aye, well…I suppose I could at that. I imagine ye want them two feather-brained oafs what normally ride with ye told ye wish tae go out?”
Aurora blinked, but managed to swallow her laughter. “Aye. Although, I would not call Nigel and Tobias that to their faces, Louis.”
“Pah. I’ll rig up yer lady and mounts for them other two.” Spinning on his heels, he yelled at a stable lad to track down her guards, then trudged the length of the aisle to the tack room, muttering the whole way. “Though, don’t know why I should…yer bein’ late and all. And comin’ in as ye please, with a bow no less. Don’t know what yer up tae, lass. Trouble, no doubt.”
Amused by Louis’s opinions, Aurora shook her head and watched him go. God love him, he must be the grumpiest man alive, but so good with the horses no one dared contradict him. Even her husband treated Louis with kid gloves, taking care not to upset the Scot unduly, allowing him complete run of the stables. ’Twas hilarious, really, that Brigham took such pains to keep the stable master amenable. But then, she suspected were Louis to become offended her husband would find it difficult getting the black out of his stall.
Unable to contain her grin, she waited for Louis to retrieve what he needed and begin preparing Seyber. Although able to saddle her own mare, Aurora knew better than to offer him her assistance. She’d already made that mistake once. Making it twice wasn’t a good idea. No way did she want a repeat of the blistering lecture Louis had delivered on their first meeting. Indeed, her ears had only just stopped ringing and returned to proper working order.
“My lady, you’ve need of our escort?”
Aurora glanced over her shoulder. “Aye, Nigel. I’ve a wish to practice my new skill.”
Tobias raised a brow. “Do ye think yer ready for that, my lady? Felling a moving target is much more difficult than hitting a stationary one.”
She sighed. Doubting Tobias. The nickname fit him like a glove. Even so, Aurora didn’t take offense at his lack of confidence. Particularly since he’d been helping her practice all week, instructing her as she acquainted herself with her new bow. “I am aware of that, Tobias. But if I never try, how will I learn to make the proper corrections?”
His expression turned from worried to dubious.
“Oh, come on,” she said, her tone cajoling. “With you there to instruct me, how can I go wrong?”
Nigel snorted. “Give over, Tobias. ’Tis plain to see my lady’s determined, and we will not get any lunch until she skewers herself a rabbit.”
After a brief hesitation, Tobias grabbed the reins of his mount. He nodded politely to Louis as he passed and led the way out of the stable. Aurora followed hot on his heels. The moment she cleared the stable’s double doors, she swung into the saddle. Spurring Seyber into a canter, she left both soldiers in her wake and headed east toward her favorite spot—a section of forest where oak trees grew wild and multiple streams intersected.
The perfect place to test her new archery skills.
Destination in sight, Aurora slowed her mount and, signaling her intentions, allowed her guards to close the gap. Allowing his warhorse’s stride to lengthen, Nigel took the lead. With a quick flick of his reins, Tobias settled behind her. Snaking around the perimeter, Aurora reined in near a trailhead and slid from the saddle.
Throwing his leg over the saddle horn, Tobias leapt to the ground. He nodded in approval. “Good choice, my lady.”
“Aye, you’ll have plenty of opportunity in the clearing beyond,” Nigel said, adjusting his sword. “Lots of targets to hit.”
“’Twas the only place I could think of that is not too far from the keep.” Good thing too. Closer meant faster. An excellent thing when dealing with Brigham. She had little doubt he would come looking for her did she miss the noon meal. “Besides, you would never forgive me were I to cause you to miss a meal.”
Tobias rolled his eyes.
Nigel grinned.
With a huff, Aurora ignored them both. Putting her boots in motion, she walked down the trail and into the dell beyond.
“Now remember, my lady.” Scanning the terrain, Nigel halted at the edge of the clearing. “A steady hand, keen eye, and quick release will bag you our supper in no time.”
Nerves made her stomach pitch. Aurora nodded anyway. Hesitating wouldn’t do her any good. Only practice would. Taking a steadying breath, she drew an arrow from her quiver. Notching the tip in her bow, she watched Tobias move off to scare unsuspecting rabbits out of the underbrush and into the open. All the lessons at the forefront of her mind, she drew on the arrow and waited for her opportunity. It arrived within seconds as a plump rabbit scrambled out from beneath some shrubbery and shot across the clearing.
Aurora loosed her arrow, then pursed her lips in annoyance. She’d missed by a mile. All right, so that was an exaggeration. It had only been by two feet. Still, it might as well have been an entire castle width for all the good it did her.
With a grumble, she notched another arrow.
A quarter of an hour later, Aurora was not only annoyed, but frustrated as well. God’s teeth, she’d loosed a total of six arrows and had naught to show for it. “Good lord, Nigel. I think I am getting worse.”
Nigel grinned.
Aurora suppressed the urge to bash him over the head with her bow.
“You are aiming right at the rabbit instead of in front of it, my lady. He is moving quickly, so you must aim in front of him, not at him.”
She huffed. “You might have told me that five arrows ago.”
“I was waiting for you to ask.”
“Bloody hell,” she muttered, borrowing Brigham’s favorite expletive.
Nigel laughed and greeted Tobias as he completed another circuit around the clearing. “Another round, I think, Tobias then…” he broke off and, eyes narrowed, body tense, stared into the surroundi
ng forest.
Alarm skittered down Aurora’s spine.
Hand gripping his sword hilt, Nigel stepped in front of her. “Back to the horses, my lady.
“What—”
“Go.” He took a step back. And then another, herding her toward the path. “Now.”
One word. One syllable. A serious warning.
The hair at her nape stirred, then stood straight on end. Gathering her cloak, Aurora backed toward the trailhead. Something whistled through the air. Nigel’s head snapped to the side. A sickening crack! echoed. Blood flew, arcing from his temple. He went down, landing on his back with a thud five feet away.
“Oh my God.” Her mind stuttered, blurring everything in her periphery as she focused on the blood flowing unchecked across Nigel’s face. Dear lord, he was hurt. Lying prone, injured and bleeding while…
She stood unmoving like a ninny.
Jolted into action, Aurora leapt toward her fallen guard. She must reach him. Needed to help him. Had to find a way to stop up the wound. Shoving her mantle aside, she skidded across the turf, leaves churning under her boots, heart hammering so hard she couldn’t hear a thing. Her knees hit the damp earth beside Nigel. Grabbing the hem of her cloak, she pressed it against the cut. Blood seeped through the material and between her closed fingers. Aurora’s breath hitched on a sob. Oh, Jesus. He was going to bleed to death and— A huge hand grabbed her arm. “Run, my lady!”
“N-nay!” All her focus on Nigel, she fought the pull. Tobias dragged her away from her fallen guard. She dug her heels into the ground, leaving twin furrows. “Nay, Tobias, he’s—”
“Christ.” Tobias jerked and pitched forward, losing his balance.
Landing on her behind, Aurora glanced up. Oh dear God. He’d been hit. An arrow now protruded from Tobias’s shoulder. She’d understood too late. They were under attack. A group was coming from the other side of the clearing, intent on killing them.
“Go Aurora!” Eyes fierce in his dark face, Tobias unsheathed his sword and spun, putting himself between her and danger. “Get Brigham.”
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