The Protector

by Madeline Hunter

  Unaccustomed as she was to sharing a bed, she woke after a few hours. The candles still burned, and she raised her head to look at him propped on the pillows. She could imagine that handsome face as it had been as a child and a youth and a newly dubbed knight.

  Her gaze dropped to his chest. It was bared by the sheet crumpled at his waist, and she traced the angles of his muscles with invisible fingers.

  He took her hand in his. He raised it to his mouth and kissed it, and then placed it on his body. “You can touch me if you want. I am yours as you are mine.”

  “I thought that you were asleep. Do you always know when I look at you?”

  “Always. I feel you just as you have felt me.”

  She let her fingers drift over his chest. He might not, Anna realized, be in love with her the way he had been, and perhaps still was, with his Elizabeth. But he did love her. Their bond gave them that. And the desire, for as long as it lasted, was undeniable.

  She gave him a kiss as her fingers found the ridges of his abdomen. His hand closed over hers and held it still. He had not opened his eyes. “I should warn you that this is going to get you into trouble,” he said, smiling.

  She laughed and raised up on her elbow and deliberately stroked him again. She watched the subtle signs in his face and muscles which told her that the power did not just go one way in these things.

  He took her hand again. “If you are determined to seduce a man, you must show some courage, Anna.” He guided her hand lower.

  She was fascinated by the controlled but distinct reactions she was able to get from him. A lighthearted inspiration struck.

  “Look at me,” she whispered. “I want to see your eyes when I touch you.”

  His eyes flashed open in shock at hearing his own love words spoken back to him. Laughing, he threw her down on her back. “Another time you can play at controlling me,” he said as he came over her. “I will even teach you how. But this night is mine.”

  CHAPTER 20

  FOR THREE DAYS ANNA LIVED an idyll of pleasure. Morvan kept her close to him during the revelry and feasts celebrating the marriage. She lived in a state of barely dormant arousal, waiting for the changes in his touch or look that said he wanted her.

  He didn't always wait for the night, and their delight in each other became the object of friendly jokes whenever he led her to the stairs on impulse and spirited her up to the chamber. She didn't care about the teasing, but only about the furious excitement he gave and showed her in the dusty afternoon light filtering through her southern windows.

  Three nights of flickering flames and passion. Three days of bright colors and tournaments. A paradise of pleasure and laughter.

  On the fourth day the lords and vassals departed with their wives and retainers. Anna and Morvan bid them farewell and watched the long lines file out the castle gate.

  The household yawned and found its natural rhythms. Servants removed the extra pallets from the chambers and returned the looms and stools to the sewing room since it would no longer be needed for sleeping. Everyone took their old places at the tables. Carlos left before dinner to work at the horse farm. Catherine resumed her duties managing the women.

  Life became normal again. For everyone but Anna.

  After the crushing activity of the last month, she found herself suddenly with nothing to do. The abrupt contrast left her restless. In the afternoon Morvan took a much-needed nap. In her bed. In her bower. She called for Shadow, deciding that a good ride would shake the boredom that nagged her.

  Her horse arrived at the same time as three mounted guards. “Where are you off to?” she asked as she swung up and fixed her stupid skirt around her legs.

  “We go with you, my lady,” one of them said.

  “The groom made a mistake. I will return shortly.”

  “It is my lord's order, my lady. You aren't to ride alone.”

  She stared at them. The one who spoke was Morvan's man, but the other two were her own guards who had obeyed her command for months.

  “I need no guard. I am going for a brief ride.”

  “It is Sir Morvan's will, my lady. He informed us and the grooms some days ago.”

  His words were like a splash of water waking her from a played-out dream.

  She could easily outdistance these men and lose them, she knew. Instead she swung her leg and dropped from the saddle. She marched into the keep and spent the afternoon pacing the upper battlements.

  At the evening meal she told Morvan what had happened.

  “Aye, I want a guard with you when you leave. It is only for your protection.”

  “I do not need them.”

  “You do need them. It is no more than most ladies have for their safety, especially in these times.”

  “I am not most ladies, and Shadow can outrun any brigand's horse. I prefer to ride alone.”

  “You will get used to it. Ignore them. It is how it will be, for I will not risk you. And until Gurwant is long gone and that matter settled, I do not want you leaving the castle at all unless I know.”

  Another splash of water. “I do not accept this.”

  He smiled, but his eyes narrowed. “Accept it. It is for your protection. It is done.”

  Morvan's chests and clothes had been put in her chamber while the guests attended, but had not been removed during the day's rearrangements. That night as he fell asleep, peaceful and sated with their lovemaking, she admitted that he probably never intended to move out. She looked at the handsome face half buried in its pillow just inches from her head. Would he do that, too? Deny her this sanctuary?

  He had negotiated with her too well that day in David's house. He had used her ignorance and misunderstanding against her. He had given up very little in the concessions he made, for he'd never expected her to want them in the end. If they kept up like this he would have his pleasure at his will, and even his heir in good time. He planned to tie her to him with passion and a family so that after six years she would never want to go to Saint Meen.

  Did he expect her to capitulate on all points? If she could maintain an illusion that he was in love with her, maybe she would. But he had known this magic before with other women, and most likely would again. He desired her and had called her “My love.” But there was love and then there was love.

  After all, Ascanio and Carlos and Josce loved her. She felt sure that Morvan did not face the vulnerability that really being in love held, or the ache that racked her now as she faced her choices. Perhaps he had felt it with Elizabeth, but not with Anna de Leon. Yet he knew love's power with women. He expected her to be absorbed and made docile by it, much as he had tried the night before the battle.

  She had not bargained for this. If she let love do this to her, there might be nothing left of her when he eventually turned away from her to desire someone else.

  The next day she stayed in the keep, noticing how irrelevant she had become in this household run so smoothly by Catherine and commanded by Morvan. He had married the wrong sister. Catherine was the kind of woman men wanted.

  She reminded herself why she had struck the bargain with him. It was time to hold him to it.

  When she rose to retire after the evening meal, he came with her. She stopped him at the door to the lord's solar.

  “I have had your things moved in here,” she said. “I will sleep alone tonight.”

  He looked at her hard, as if trying to probe her mind. “You are serious.”

  “Aye.”

  “I don't believe this.”

  “Believe it.”

  He pulled her to him with one arm while the other hand took her face. “You will not deny me and what we have shared.” He grazed her mouth with his. “I have only to touch you and you want me. In this you are mine.”

  It was a bold assertion of the naked truth, but it only stiffened her back. “I don't deny what we have shared, but I will not be a slave to it.”

  “You speak nonsense. I do not treat you like a slave.”

>   She felt the heat of his anger, and his desire. His arm gripped her more closely. She remembered that night after Isabella's dinner when he had been like this.

  “That remains to be seen, doesn't it?” she said quietly.

  That checked him. The dangerous fire dimmed. He released her. “This is madness. Go to your sacred bower. I can see that it is time I recalled the exact details of our agreement.”

  She walked away from him and entered her chamber. She dismissed Ruth, and prepared for bed alone. Then she laid out her garments for the morning.

  A tunic and hose, and boots for riding.

  Morvan waited patiently for the groom to saddle the bay courser.

  He had always expected trouble with Anna, but not this soon and not this boldly expressed. And especially not coming on the heels of last night's rejection.

  He had underestimated her. The average woman would be besotted still—but then, she had never been the average woman. He probably wouldn't have wanted her if she had been, but that didn't make this blatant challenge any less significant.

  He lounged against the stable wall, forcing a fragile control on his anger. Ascanio and Gregory hustled across the yard. “About an hour ago,” Gregory said. “The guards thought she had permission.”

  Short of announcing that she was a prisoner, Morvan knew, it would be hard to keep her from having the gate opened. She was the lady, and had some authority. She was also a lot smarter than any of the guards. He wondered what ruse she had used.

  “Perhaps I should come with you,” Ascanio offered.

  “Do I look that dangerous?”

  “Fit to kill, actually.”

  “Then my face shows more than I feel. I will not hurt her over this. I assume that she has gone to the horse farm.”

  Ascanio shrugged. “It is her joy and her life.”

  “I have not forbidden her that.”

  “Not yet.”

  The groom led out the courser and Morvan swung into the saddle. He looked down at Ascanio, and the anger he barely held in check surged. “Do you disapprove of how I'm handling my wife, priest?”

  “Since you ask, I will say this. Remember what makes her who she is. Especially since it is clear that she will never forget, no matter how much pleasure you give her.”

  He would have struck down a different man. Instead he pivoted the bay and headed to the gate.

  He looked straight ahead, his eyes on the rising portcullis, but he could sense the guards and servants turning to watch him pass. They all knew that she had defied him, and that he was going after her. Her rebellion delighted some of them, the ones none too happy to be given an English lord at the command of an English king.

  He galloped across the field. He wanted to separate this from last night, but it was not a thing apart. Never in his life had a woman refused him like that, and now his wife, who belonged to him, had dared it. His control of women had always been complete after he bedded them, and with Anna it had not just been pleasure that he gave when he touched her.

  He did not care why she had turned away from that. He only knew that, bargain or not, he would not tolerate it. He would not permit her to deny him that temporary but complete unity.

  He had thought to make the changes in her life gradual so that she might not mind them too much, but she was too smart for that. She had seen the pattern and knew where it led.

  Well, so much for subtlety. He had tried passion. Now he would use reasoning. And if that failed…

  He slowed the bay when he found the forest path leading to the farm. The direction of his thoughts made him pause. He stopped the horse and forced reason on his chaotic reactions.

  He knew how he was supposed to handle this. He had seen lords use their belts or rods on wives or daughters. But he had never been one of the heads nodding approval, nor had he ever hurt a woman with his strength. The idea of punishing Anna sickened him, especially when he began considering the implications of it, of what it would do to both of them, and of what it might destroy.

  His distracted gaze fell to the ground. His blood chilled.

  He had noted Shadow's fresh prints on sandy patches as he crossed the field. On the main path they had covered earlier tracks, probably made by Carlos. But now, mixed among them, were the prints of two, maybe three, other animals.

  Any sympathy that he felt for her, any inclination toward understanding, disappeared as the cold fear he had known when she was wounded claimed him again. He moved his bay to a trot, his gaze never wavering from the confusion of marks passing below him.

  Her damn stubborn will would get her killed if he let it. He had been too careful of her pride. He would lock her up if he had to.

  Finally Shadow's marks disappeared into the brush, heading toward the farm, but the others continued along the path. Only then did the horrible foreboding lift. All that was left then was a cold resolve born of protective possession.

  Anna charged the black mare across the pasture. She was a spirited animal, young and willful, and would need a lot of work before she would be suitable for the tasks for which she had been bred. A workhorse, that meant, since she was female. She was strong and fast, and would make a fine courser. But knights would never ride coursers that were mares.

  The ride exalted her. It had been weeks. Weeks. She reveled in the speed and danger and power. She wished she hadn't saddled the mare so she could stand on her back like she sometimes did with Shadow.

  Alone and free. It would be short-lived and she would pay for it, but by God, how her spirit soared. I think that you do it because you enjoy it. Aye, Morvan, you saw more clearly than I. Do not make me choose between you and this, because I don't know how it will go. Don't ask me to choose between you and myself.

  She aimed the mare toward the farmhouse, then reined her in when they arrived. She jumped down and handed her over to Louis, whose turn it was to guard the farm. She darted into a shed and emerged just as Carlos came around the building.

  “Work with me, Carlos.” She held up the two practice swords.

  “Nay. He will have my head.”

  “He hasn't forbidden this.”

  “I don't need to be told not to jump into the sea in order to know I should stay away from the cliff's edge,” Carlos said. “Do you? When he was only a knight in your service you knew he did not approve.”

  “I didn't think you'd be afraid of him.”

  “Only a fool wouldn't be. And it is for you that I fear. You have worked with the horses. Go practice with the bow. Let that be enough.”

  She stood her ground. This morning would cost her dearly, and she wanted her value's worth. For a brief while at least, she wanted her life back.

  She saw Louis watching over by the corral. He would do it for her. He was one of several guards who were not pleased about the new lord's displacing her. His eyes sparkled now, delighted at seeing her back to normal. But he was no match for Morvan, and she had not included the protection of him in her bargain as she had Carlos and Ascanio.

  “Then I will practice on my own and at least rebuild my strength. I have become a weakling this last month.”

  Carlos sighed and shook his head. “There are ways for women to handle men like him, Anna. You go about this all wrong.”

  She ignored him and dropped one of the swords.

  He started to walk away, then saw something and muttered, “Oh, hell.”

  Anna followed the line of his gaze. The rigid form of a knight on horseback stood on top of the hill that overlooked the farm and pasture. He was dressed all in black, and the set of his body spoke his mood.

  “He knew that you were coming, didn't he?”

  Anna didn't reply. Morvan hadn't moved.

  “Oh, hell,” Carlos said again. He stepped in front of her. “He is your husband and I cannot help you in this, Anna. But hand me the sword now.”

  The horse began to walk down the hill. She slipped Carlos the sword. He picked up the other and strode to the fence, where he slid them behind the water
trough.

  “Do not bother. He saw them.” She followed the bay courser's progress. Morvan was coming slowly on purpose. He wanted to scare her. It was working.

  “At least they are not in your hand and at your feet,” Carlos replied, returning to her side. “Try being very sweet to him.”

  “You expect me to just give in?” The taste of freedom had quickened her will, not salved it. She was in no mood to be sweet. She wasn't even sure what that meant. Docile? Pleading? Such manipulation would make her sick with herself. It was one thing to be conquered, and another to grovel for mercy.

  “You have already lost,” Carlos said. “You lost the day you married him.”

  Morvan was close enough for them to see the sparks in his eyes and the severity of his expression.

  “Holy saints, girl, what have you done?”

  “I came here, that is all.” And denied him my bed. How much of his anger came from that, she wondered, and how much from this morning's defiance? “He is just being overbearing. As usual. You had better go.”

  “Nay. I had better stay. For all the good it will do you.”

  The bay courser trotted into the yard. Morvan sat there a while glaring at her before swinging down.

  He strode over to her, stopping an arm's span away.

  A terrible stillness throbbed. Straightening her shoulders, she raised her head and met his hot gaze with a level one of her own.

  Fury at her insolence hardened his expression. He stepped forward, bent, and rose. She found herself slung over his left shoulder, her legs pinned by his arm, her face to his back.

  “Put me down,” she hissed.

  “Have her horse ready,” he ordered Carlos.

  From her humiliating position, she saw Carlos move toward Louis and made out the stunned looks on their faces. Furious, she pummeled Morvan's back. He didn't seem to notice.

  He began taking her to the farmhouse. She struggled vainly against his hold. She would not be treated like some child. She leveraged her body up against his shoulder. Grasping her hands together, she raised her arms as high as she could. Then she let her weight fall, bringing the fist down with all of her might on his back.