“He left with the bishop’s men.” James eyed him warily.
“Damnation. I wanted to set him straight, too.” He frowned, let his sword arm down, but continued to clutch his fingers around the hilt. The sun poked through the arch in the doorway and he considered how he would meet day’s end. A righteous beheading or peace?
James and the two knights dragged the moaning bishop off to the abbey. Meanwhile, the remaining men slowly backed out of the great room, leaving Marcus standing alone, naked, and pondering. When she’d screamed, it had pierced him worse than any arrow. Was that what others referred to as fear? Midway between floors, he stayed, sword in hand, until Thomas reentered the manor, bowed silently, as he seldom did, and waited.
Marcus glowered for the longest time, then said, “Gather up everyone. My staff, my guard, and maidens all. Clean up this unholy mess. Grab buckets of water from the bath to wash down my floor. No new thatch. Just tiles and tables that shine. When that is done, gather all, and wait for me. I demand an explanation on how it came to be that my manor was left unguarded while I slept.” He turned and stomped up the stairs.
Ann shivered in her room from under her furs. She’d almost been raped in her own hall. No one, other than her husband, had been able to stop it. She was a lady, for the love of God, not a tavern wench. How have my fates fallen so low? Even married, I am subjected to the whims of men.
She scrambled over to her knives left on the floor near the pallet. Despite shaking hands, she put them in their sheaths and tethered them to her inner thigh and upper arm, vowing never to leave them off again, especially whilst asleep.
When Marcus pounded his fist on the door, she slid back the bolt. Before she could open it fully, he pushed in and began to shout. “I told you to stay away from those men and stay in the room until they departed. What the devil is wrong with you? Do you find some perverted amusement in this … this chaos that follows in your destructive path?”
She’d never seen The Beast so angry. His face was poppy-red, small blood pipes pulsed, and every muscle in his magnificent naked body strained, bowstring taut.
She sat down on the pallet, put her knees to her chest, and held tight. How could she explain that she’d dream-walked? Surely, he’d think her possessed and hang her. “I was distracted.”
“So distracted you forgot everything Thomas told you about the bishop?”
He took her chin with his finger and thumb, directing her face upward until their noses all, but touched. “Look at me while I talk sense into you. He was about to take you on the staircase in front of all his men and mine. I should shackle you to the bedpost and gift you with a chastity belt from now until the end of your miserable life, which, if you continue as you have, will be short indeed.”
She let out a small cry, met his unblinking gaze, and dared a defiant glare. “I could’ve protected myself, but my knives were here, where you removed them from me.”
The Beast let go and prowled back and forth across the room like a boar in a pit. “Christ’s blood, you go too far. Are you part harlot? Who else would wander into a room of drunken warriors?”
“Now you go too far.” How dare he? She’d proven her virtue time and time again.
He pounded the hilt of his sword on her dresser and it split with a resounding crack. “Damnation. Don’t try to change the course of this battle. It’s my siege and I’m not nearly done. Tell me. Why did you venture downstairs?”
“You can’t possibly understand. There is no safe place for me. Today only proves what I’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Understand?” He waved his sword in the air, no doubt finally realized he was still holding it, and sheathed it. Clutching both hands behind his back, he approached her and leaned over. “Nay, wife. I understand nothing about you except your sharp tongue and your complete lack of common sense.”
She tried to shove his chest away, but it was like trying to move an ox. “I was doing fine by myself until a few weeks ago, when you forced yourself into my home.”
“I had permission from the king. You and your lands are mine. Best you begin to accept that.”
She cringed, waiting for a fist to hit her down, and his anger kindled more, a feat she’d thought impossible. Mayhap she should explain about how she walked while asleep. “Stay your temper, m’lord. I beg of you. I can explain—”
“You’ve not yet seen me in a temper with you, Lady, but you might this morning. You would try the patience of the holiest of men, which I assure you, I am not.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest, stared with that practiced look, and waited. “Well?”
“I am possessed.”
“In that we are in agreement.”
“No. Truly m’lord. Whilst I sleep, a demon takes over my body.”
“Christ’s nails, you expect me to believe that?”
“Well, it’s true. Oft times I find myself in places other than on my pallet when I wake. What explanation can there be? Haven’t you noticed? That’s why Sally always slept nearby. We tied a string from toe to toe. She would wake me if I tried to get up and walk away.
“Your life hangs in the balance, every time you fall asleep? Why in God’s name didn’t you tell me?”
“You’d know better than I. And now you have forced a death sentence upon me by your bloody insistence on the truth.”
“I told you I would not hang you, even though you tempt me. Do you doubt my word?”
“Which word? To me or to the king, because now that you know, however you act, it will be a falsehood. Blessed art thou, oh wise, Templar Knight. See what your mighty quest for the truth has accomplished?”
His tunic lay on the floor where they’d left it the night before, after making heirs. It tore as he pulled it over his head. Before he slammed the door, he shot one final arrow into her heart. “God’s blood, woman, you are a curse upon my soul and all those around you. No wonder Underhill’s pintle shrank at the sight of you.”
Marcus, Lord of the Green Meadows, The Beast of Thornhill, stormed the stairs. At the bottom, his gentle people worked alongside his warriors, cleaning the great hall. They pretended that they hadn’t heard the shouting and pointedly ignored him when he pitched in to help.
Damn that wife of his. He should just walk back up those stairs and set her straight. If he’d hung every man he’d seen walk in their sleep, he’d have none left for battle. She’d dare question his honor? After all he’d done for her?
When they finished cleaning, all lined up and waited for him to speak. Their eyes were cast upon the shining mosaic floor.
“I’ve had time to reflect on what happened early this morning and I’ve decided that it was a bad decision to keep the bishop and his men in my manor last night.”
He clasped his hands behind his back and paced as he met each in the eye. “However, that being said, I expect my staff and my men to cover for my bad decisions—to have my back and protect my lady. You didn’t and what almost happened as a result is inexcusable. However, I’m ultimately responsible. I should’ve been down here with you, helping to keep the evil at bay.”
An angelic voice, soft and demure, floated down from atop the stairs. “No, my Lord, the fault was all mine. I’ve been thoughtless and childish and I’ve put all your lives at risk. I’m not at all like the Lady you expect me to be.”
She sent him down a most crooked smile, but her eyes glistened with tears. When was it that the sun had begun to rise and set on her moods? He reached up while she slowly descended the staircase and placed her small hand in his.
Turning to his people, he said, “Please excuse us while we take our leave to discuss matters more privately. I thank you for cleaning up this mess. Anon, to your pallets until the hour of dinner.
“Come, let’s walk.” He put his hand to the small of her back and urged her forward. As they passed Thomas, Marcus slapped his shoulder in silent thanks, for helping stay his temper.
No doubt stunned, it took several moments befor
e his friend could speak. “To the hearth, men. And ladies, bring us some nourishment and your knowledge of this keep. You saw what happened early this morn. Our castle went under siege, and the battle would’ve been lost, but for The Beast awoke from his sleep. Shame on us. Let us show our lord and lady that we’re worthy of their merciful graciousness. Together, we will find a better plan of defense.”
“Aye,” said the small group in unison.
Marcus paused just outside the manor door, closed his eyes, and sighed.
Turning around, Ann cocked her head. “What was that all about?”
“I suspect I gave the right speech. But I’m completely at a loss as to what speech to give you.” He offered his hand, and instead of holding it, she put it to her lips.
“As I am to you. It’s raining. Mayhap we could speak quietly in the church?”
“Mayhap.”
They chose a pew in the middle and sat quietly as rain pelted the tiled roof. Brother James lit a candle at the altar and let them be.
“I should’ve trusted you with my secret.” She sighed and looked up at the altar, as if expecting a revelation. Her eyes, green as spring, filled with water, and dripped at the corners.
“Aye. But I didn’t keep you safe as I promised. In fact, I disarmed you from your knives and put you at risk. I’m afraid I’ve found it easier to keep a whole army safe, than my own wife, in my own manor. For the first time in my life, I am unworthy. Forgive me, for everything.” He stared at the cross with the suffering face of Christ and commiserated. He wanted to hug her, but with God-the-father scowling down from above, it seemed more appropriate to clasp hands.
“What are you going to do with me?” Letting her guard drop, she stared at him with wide, child-like innocence.
“Make sure you never sleep alone and find a piece of yarn to tether you to me. I’ve traveled around the world and seen conditions of the mind that would astound. I’ve come to the conclusion that it has very little to do with God or the devil, and much to do with human suffering.” He squeezed her hand and tucked one defiant lock into her gold hairnet.
“After battle, I had good men who’d never walked in their sleep before, begin to do so. They would perform mundane chores, then go peaceably back to their slumber. If it were a demon, wouldn’t they cause much mischief? Tell me. Have you ever done any evil whilst asleep?”
“Nay. Of course not.” She shook her head and those stray wisps escaped again.
“There. That’s settled. We’ll have no more talk of demons in the night.”
Her eyes lowered to where their hands joined. “But as a wife, I’ve been a failure. The only thing I’ve been able to do correctly is keep your sword’s interest and I’m afraid I’ve broken that, too.”
“It was, but a slight wound, dearest. I’m sure with your careful ministrations, we can bring it about, again.” He chuckled and squeezed her hand.
“Truly?” The centers of her eyes went almost black with wanting and she licked her lips. “Mayhap I could repair you in the bathhouse?”
“Surely it is not empty at this hour.” He rose and pulled her into a hug right there, inside the church. If needed, he’d add it to his ever-growing list of sins to confess.
She laughed at his unholy act and swatted him. “It seems the bishop’s arrival has put my schedule amuck. I can repair that after I repair you.”
Chapter 14
Her husband’s arm lay across her chest like a heavy tree branch. Pushing at him, Ann tried to wake him enough to move, as she needed to relieve herself. With a groan, he finally turned. She squirmed out from under him and untied the yarn from her toe. Another bath was what she needed, both for cleansing as well as healing. Her stomach was churning and threating to hurl. After finding a chamber pot to do just that, she took the most direct path to the bathhouse and pushed on the wall.
The sun had not yet risen, and neither had the men who kept the baths hot, but she managed to get a fire roaring nearest the top pool. She sat on the cool mosaic tiles and scrubbed the worst of the last days’ dirt with a brush. When a small cloud of steam came off the water, she eased in. As a younger maiden, she’d imagined herself a sea nymph. Her hair floated as she dunked, rinsed, and brushed herself clean, even in the spots reserved for her husband.
“You really shouldn’t go anywhere all alone.” Marcus’ loud voice startled her from out of the passage entrance. She screamed.
“By all that is holy, don’t sneak up on me so. You might’ve scared the life right out of me.”
“Better me than someone trying to take it purposefully. Promise me you’ll wait for me in the future. It would be too easy to take you here. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve grown so very fond of you.”
“And I of you.” She turned to admire her warrior. His gray eyes had gentled on her with his lids half-closed. She wanted to explore his hair, still tousled from sleep, and touch where his dark beard had grown to a rough stubble.
She sighed. “I suppose you’ve the right of it. I’ve been used to relative safety within my own house, which seems to have abandoned me as of late. I’ve been thinking, now don’t get angry, but I really did have most everything in balance until I married you.”
He pulled off his bed shirt and strode into the bath in one graceful, cat-like move. His body, covered with a thin pelt of hair, had nary a place where the skin didn’t stretch taut over bumps of strength. Her face heated when he caught her admiring his beautiful form. He strode through the water with a smile, settled behind her, and folded his arms around her breasts. Removing the brush from her hand and taking a step back, he gently scrubbed.
“All things were in balance, except Abernathy was stealing your sheep.” He must’ve let go of the brush, for it was a hand that moved lower and caressed her derriere.
“Mmm, true, yet even that was manageable and I was still turning a fine profit. But I’ve been thinking. What enemies do you have? Ones that would want you excommunicated or killed? Believe me when I say Abernathy is merely an opportunist. I’ve dealt with him for years. The wolf howls without bite. Someone else is doing the planning.”
“I’d have to agree with you there. Much is at play. More than I’ve been able to grasp. Edward’s court is full of subterfuge and I haven’t been back long enough to know the where and why of it all.” He nuzzled her neck.
She could hardly put two thoughts together as his thick pintle hardened against her back. “Who told you that I murdered my husband?”
“My father.”
“Why do you think he spoke so?” She tried to ignore his gentle siege, now focused on her breasts. He pinched and played until she moaned.
“I believe he thought it to be true.” His tongue found her ear, then he turned her.
Wrapping her legs around him, she opened wide. “Don’t you think that’s odd?”
“Odd?” He lifted her, leaned her against the wall of the bath, and his sword pierced deep.
It was all, but impossible to think. “The only people who knew of my husband’s death, would have reported it as a natural cause. The man was old and infirmed, by even the most witless observer. Why would your father lead you to believe otherwise? Why did you come to my house expecting to find an old hag of a murderess?”
“I don’t know, but I promise you this, I’ll find the truth of it all, but not right now. Right now, I have other interests to pursue.” He pulled out and plunged into her fully.
She shouted, bit into his shoulder, and met his siege, thrust for thrust, as water splashed over the sides of the pool.
After they finished in more baby-making, her now-weak legs fell away. “I’d think indulging in that much pleasure, for pleasure’s sake, might be a sin.”
He grinned and crossed himself. “Mayhap I’ll ask Brother James.”
“You won’t, sir.” She opened her eyes with mouth wide in mock horror.
“How else will I know, if to enjoy my wife is sinful? I’d not go to hell for ignorance of such things.�
�� He tickled her and she squealed and squirmed, but he wouldn’t let go.
A floating wash linen made for a perfect weapon and hit him squarely in the face. “To Hades with you.”
He laughed, caught her tight, and they enjoyed each other again.
Later, outside under the thatch, Marcus sat on a large flat stone, after sharing the breaking-of-fast with the town. Ann coddled babies, cooing, and gurgling. Across the green, the summer sun played upon the stained glass window that graced the front of the church. Blue and red beams of light reflected and shimmered onto the front wall of the manor. Another peaceful and beautiful day.
A young man, dressed in fine Italian silks and velvet, encroached upon his space shyly.
Marcus stood and stretched his sword arm forward. “You must be Stephano. It’s an honor to meet you. Your work rivals any I’ve seen across the Christian lands.”
“You won’t tell anyone that we’re living here, will you? Your wife—”
“Of course he won’t.” Babe in arm, Ann charged in before he could respond. “He’s now my husband, your liege lord, and an honorable man. He’ll keep my promises.”
With wide green eyes, she whispered, “The punishment for escaping his island in Venice is death.”
“And not just me and my sister, but my family that I left at home.” He nodded vigorously.
She gave him a hug. “You and Christina will always have sanctuary here. We’re family.”
Marcus frowned at them both. “Glass such as that is rarer than Roman gold. Someone’s bound to come looking for the source.”
She gave him a bright smile. “Oh, no. When I sell his pieces, I’m careful to make sure to cover up the fact they’re made here in England. I weave a yarn of some proportion on my prowess in trading with the Italians. I supposedly have a cousin who has married well, lives in Venice, and sends me occasional pieces as gifts.”
He raised his eyes to God and said one of his now-plentiful prayers for her life. She was so naïve, it worried him without end.
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