“Looking like a Viking no doubt makes your opponents even more wary.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed with an unexpectedly mischievous expression, and she knew she’d guessed aright.
“And you call me clever!”
“You are. The cleverest, more intelligent woman I’ve ever met, as well as the most beautiful,” he murmured before he kissed her again.
This time, he was the first to draw back. “I suppose we should return to the hall.”
She couldn’t disagree. “Yes, lest Sir Algar think I’m upbraiding you again.”
Rheged sat up and regarded her with furrowed brow. “Perhaps it would better to let him think you’re angry than to have him guess the truth.”
She, too, sat up and laid her arm around Rheged’s shoulder before kissing him lightly on the cheek. “The servants already think we’re lovers and probably have thought so from the day I arrived. I’m sure Elvina was upset the other day because she thought she’d interrupted something rather like...well, what we’ve just done.”
Rheged didn’t appear at all surprised.
“You knew?”
“Not exactly, but I should have expected it.” He blushed like a naughty little boy. “It seems Gareth told the men about the Welsh custom of abducting the bride and it probably didn’t take much imagination to believe we were already lovers. I did tell him that wasn’t our plan,” he hastened to assure her. “I thought I made it clear that I didn’t even like you, so no one would guess how I really felt. God help me, I was even trying to deny my feelings to myself.” He ruefully shook his head. “Gareth will be saying he was right and I planned to marry you all along. Maybe my heart was wiser than my head.”
She rose and picked up the ivory comb from the table beside the bed. “When you first returned to Cwm Bron,” she said, running it through her tumbled locks, “I hoped you had come to save me from my betrothal, in spite of what I’d said, only to realize—much to my dismay—that it was the bogus prize that had caused you to return. That’s why I was so angry.”
“You weren’t angry because I took you?” he asked as he, too, got off the bed and began to tie the drawstring of his breeches.
“Oh, no, I was furious—and justly so, my love. I meant when you were standing in the courtyard shouting for my uncle.”
“I think I loved you even then. I think I loved you from the first time I saw you giving the remains of the feast to the poor at the gates. You were so kind and generous, I knew you were different from any other lady I’d ever met.”
She flushed as she set down the comb and tied her bodice closed. “I didn’t know you saw me.”
“Which made your kindness all the more impressive.”
Facing him, she held out her arms. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful,” he replied, reaching for her.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, stepping back, “but I meant, do I look like a woman who’s just had a tumble on the sheets?” She smiled. “To think I would ever have to ask that!”
“Nor did I dream, a sennight ago, that I would be in love with the most amazing woman who, incredibly, loves me, too.”
She put her arms around him and held him close. “Come to me tonight, Rheged,” she whispered as a little thread of fear returned, winding around her heart.
It drew even tighter when they returned to the hall and she saw all the worried, anxious faces among the soldiers and the servants gathered there—a forceful reminder that more than she and Mavis and Sir Algar would suffer if Rheged lost tomorrow.
Rheged’s strong hand took hold of hers, and she found hope again, albeit one tempered with the realization that much depended on Rheged’s strength and skill.
There was one man missing from the hall. She gestured for Hildie to come closer. “Where is Sir Algar?”
The maidservant didn’t meet her gaze as she twisted her apron in her hands. “Gone, my lady. Back to his own castle.”
Gareth stepped out from among the soldiers. “He said he would return in time for the contest tomorrow.”
Despite his explanation, it didn’t take a seer to see that he was dismayed, too. Once before Algar had fled rather than stand up to the DeLacs.
“He will return,” Rheged said firmly, his grip on her hand tightening. “Now let us eat and drink and celebrate my good fortune, for this lady has consented to be my wife.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, until Gareth cheered and the hall exploded with the noise of the soldiers also cheering and stamping feet, and the servants, too. Then came the calls for wine and ale to drink to Sir Rheged and the lady, followed by more raucous cheers from the soldiers and a few bawdy jests, too.
“Perhaps I made a mistake announcing our intent,” Rheged said, leading Tamsin to the table. “They’ll all be drunk tonight and the worse for it tomorrow unless I put an end to it.”
He got to his feet and held up his hands for silence. “Men of the garrison of Cwm Bron—and the best men in the land—although I’m happy that you’re pleased for me, this is not the time for feasting and celebrating. That will be tomorrow, after I’ve defeated Sir Broderick.”
“And you will!” one man called out.
“With one blow!” shouted another.
“He’s as good as dead now!” cried a third.
Again Rheged held up his hands. “Believe me, I have every reason to do my best,” he said, glancing at Tamsin. “So let us dine and rest tonight, the better to celebrate tomorrow when my enemy is vanquished. There will be more than enough wine and ale for all, and Foster will prepare a feast worthy of a wedding.”
“Aye, my lord, aye!” Gareth cried while the men cheered with renewed enthusiasm and the servants applauded.
And Tamsin hid her dread behind a happy smile.
* * *
“My lady!” Charlie cried as he ran into the hall where Mavis was supervising the laying of cloths on the tables for the evening meal. “They’re coming back, your father and Sir Broderick!”
“And Tamsin?” she asked eagerly when Charlie skittered to a halt. “Did you see her?”
Charlie flushed and didn’t meet her gaze. “No, I didn’t, my lady. Just the men, that’s all I saw.”
Sweet savior! Surely they wouldn’t have left Tamsin behind!
Unless she was dead.
Her heart in her throat, Mavis dashed to the yard, to see her father, Broderick and their men riding beneath the portcullis and into the yard. Men and horses were all clearly exhausted; they must have ridden hard to get back before nightfall.
She anxiously scanned the mounted group for her cousin.
Charlie had been right. Tamsin wasn’t there.
Holy Blessed Mother, don’t let her be dead! Mavis prayed as she rushed toward her father, who looked half-dead as he hauled his horse to a halt. Clutching the toe of his boot, she cried, “Where is Tamsin? Oh, Father, tell me she isn’t dead!”
Her father shook his foot as if she were a fly. “Get off, girl! Of course she isn’t dead.”
“Then where is she? Is she so badly hurt she can’t come home?”
“It seems the lady has decided to remain where she is, for the time being, until I kill Rheged,” Broderick answered for her father.
She turned to the knight with both dismay and a revulsion she didn’t bother to hide. “She has chosen to stay there?”
“Yes, she has, the bi—” Lord Delac caught Broderick’s eye and remembered that, incredibly, the man still wanted to marry his whore of a niece. “It appears I may have been right all along about her and that Welshman.”
Mavis still could not believe that. Not entirely, although when she’d recalled the times Tamsin had mentioned Sir Rheged, there might have been something in her eyes....
“Here, oaf, help me down!” her father ordered one of the grooms, who hurried to help the nobleman dismount.
Broderick, for all his bulk, swung down easily from the saddle. “I must confess, my lady, I find it difficult to believe that you had no i
nkling what was afoot with your cousin and that Welshman.”
“Whatever might have been between them, I’m sure Thomasina has been virtuous,” Mavis replied.
Tamsin would never willingly give up her virtue, not to any man. Not unless she was married. Mavis was completely certain about that.
“Well, there’s something between them now,” her father returned. “Sir Broderick is to be commended for his generous intention to keep the betrothal agreement in spite of your cousin’s shameful behavior.”
Tamsin was not shameful, and as for Broderick’s “generous intention,” if ever a man was completely lacking in anything that remotely resembled generosity, it was surely Broderick of Dunborough.
“Even to the point of fighting to the death for Thomasina on the morrow,” her father continued.
Mavis stared at him, aghast. “They are going to fight to the death over her?”
“Jealous, my lady?” Broderick asked with a mocking look.
She turned on him like an angry hornet. “I’m simply surprised that you would be foolish enough to condemn yourself to death.”
“It will be Sir Rheged who dies, my lady, so I suggest you have a care how to speak to me. After all, we are going to be family.”
“If you win,” Mavis retorted.
“Enough!” her father growled as one of the grooms helped him from his horse and he staggered toward the hall. “I want bread. And honey. And wine. Mulled wine.”
Mavis started after him, but Broderick blocked her way and brought his face so close to hers she could smell his unclean breath. “If you value your cousin’s life, my lady, you will remember that when I am her husband, her life belongs to me.”
Hating him to the depths of her soul, Mavis faced him squarely. “And you had best remember, my lord, that Sir Rheged of Cwm Bron isn’t called the Wolf of Wales because he cannot fight.”
“If your father’s wise, he’ll marry you to some Scot and send you far away.”
“If you are wise, my lord, you’ll get out of my way.”
Broderick hesitated for a moment, then stepped aside and let her pass.
He watched her march to the hall, and his expression was not one of admiration.
* * *
Mavis didn’t join her father or the servants in the hall. She ran up to the chamber she’d shared with Tamsin and reached beneath the bed for the bundle she’d prepared. Clutching it to her chest, she sank down upon the bed.
If Rheged won tomorrow, Tamsin would be safe. She would have to take Tamsin’s place as bride to the disgusting Broderick, but surely there would be at least a day before any marriage could take place. If Rheged lost tomorrow and Tamsin came back, there would still be time enough to flee.
Please, God, she prayed as she buried her face in the bundle, give us a chance to flee!
* * *
After the food had been eaten and the tables cleared, Tamsin leaned close to Rheged. “I believe I shall retire now, my lord.”
He kept his eyes straight ahead as he very quietly answered, “But you will be expecting me?”
“Oh, yes.” She furtively slid her hand over his powerful thigh. “I’ll be waiting. Clad only in my shift.”
He looked at her then, his expression a mixture of such surprise and delight she had to smile in return.
“Here, now, you two, what’s going on under the table? You’re not wed yet and no vows taken!” Gareth jovially called out.
“Can’t a man talk to his bride-to-be?”
“Talk, aye, but it’s not the talking I’m talking about.”
“Have a care, Gareth, and remember you’re speaking to your lord,” Rheged chastised with such obviously bogus annoyance Gareth winked before he impudently replied, “Oh, aye, Sir Rheged, my lord.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t even try to be discreet,” Rheged muttered under his breath.
“Perhaps not,” Tamsin agreed. “But let me leave first anyway.”
His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t protest, for he had not forgotten what she’d said about waiting for him clad only in her shift.
Chapter Sixteen
A little while later, Rheged discovered Tamsin was as good as her word. Not only was she naked save for her shift, but her unbound hair was loose and cascading over her body like a lustrous cloak.
As Rheged stood looking at her, a delicious thrill of anticipation ran through her. “Let us to bed, my lord,” she whispered.
“Gladly, my lady, gladly,” he replied, his lips curving up in a smile so seductively appealing she couldn’t say a word even if she wanted to.
She didn’t want to. She wanted to make love with him.
Reclining on the bed and feeling like a queen about to be loved by a king—a magnificent, powerful king who was hers to love forever—she watched Rheged tug off his tunic and shirt. His clothes were always plain, unadorned, simple, and he looked marvelous in anything, but he looked even better half-naked. Her gaze roved over his taut belly and broad chest and the scars that marked his torso, the outer evidence of his military battles and survival.
But there had been other battles, too, of a sort that she also had fought.
She loved him, and she always would, no matter what happened on the morrow.
“Do you like what you see, Tamsin?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
“Very much,” she replied, watching him tug off his boots and then his breeches, the latter so swiftly she caught barely a glimpse of the rest of his powerful body before he took her in his arms and kissed her fervently.
Despite the passion that fueled their desire, in spite of her yearning anticipation and the speed with which they’d loved before, he took his time now, as if he believed they had hours...days...nights...years to love. She would think so, too. She would pretend that they had the rest of their lives to live and love together. That this was but the beginning, not the alpha and omega both.
Leaning his weight on his elbow, he kissed her tenderly, his free hand gliding lightly over the curves of her body, exploring her with slow deliberation. She responded in kind, letting her hands study him, finding the places that made him sigh and gasp, as she was sighing and gasping, teaching and being taught.
But she could feel the need burning within him as it smoldered within her, ready to burst into eager excitement.
Not quite yet. First there was more kissing and caressing, more delicate stroking and touching, like seafarers who’d landed on a new and lovely shore, one they had years to wander.
Until the discovery grew more heated, with a greater purpose that must be fulfilled, and sooner than the dawn.
More than ready, she reached down to guide him to her, and with a smooth thrust, he was inside. They were together once more, completely and utterly.
One in passion, one in love, joined as man and woman, husband and wife, to be one in all that life had to offer, the good and the bad, joy and sorrow, to celebrate together or comfort each other if the need arose.
And then the passion and need and desire took them, rushing them forward, filling and compelling them onward and over the edge until they cried out together in ecstasy.
After a long moment, as the waves receded and cast Tamsin back upon the shore, she cradled Rheged’s head against her breasts and stroked his hair. This was happiness. And contentment. This was joy such as few women would likely ever know. She was so blessed...if only for tonight.
He caught her studying him and when he grinned, she could see the boy he must have been, as well as a glimpse of the children they might have. “You aren’t sleepy, Tamsin?” he asked with another seductive smile while he caressed her. “I shall have to think of something to tire you.”
But he also stifled a yawn.
“I think we’ve both sported enough for one day,” she said, “and now it’s time to rest. You mustn’t be too tired tomorrow.”
“I could beat Broderick if I’d been awake for a week,” he assured her.
Yet in spite of his assertion, Rheged had
to admit, if only to himself, that he was weary, and Broderick was angry, bitter and determined—the worst kind of opponent to face.
His throat was somewhat scratchy, too, but that, he thought with an inward grin, could be from the way he’d growled in triumph when he reached the height of ecstasy in Tamsin’s arms.
“Perhaps it would be better if I slept,” he reluctantly agreed.
As Tamsin sighed and snuggled against him, a feeling of tender affection stole over him. How delightful and wondrous it was to think that they could be friends and confidants as well as lovers.
She raised her head to look at him, her expression suddenly serious. “I don’t want to marry anyone but you, ever! Whatever happens tomorrow, I never will!”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, loving her beyond all measure. “Whatever happens tomorrow, you are the only woman I have ever loved, or ever shall.” He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Be of good cheer, Tamsin! I beat Broderick before when the stakes were not nearly so high, and I’d been rendered weak. I’ll beat him again. Knowing your opponent and the tricks he might play is like having another shield.” Another wave of weariness washed over him. “Now close your eyes, Tamsin, and try to sleep, and so shall I.”
Although Tamsin doubted sleep would come soon, if at all, she did as he suggested and soon realized he’d dozed off. Clearly he wasn’t afraid of Broderick, and if he could sleep so easily, perhaps she could rest, too.
Even so, it was a long time before Tamsin’s eyelids finally closed and she fell into a fitful sleep, to dream of Rheged, his long hair flying, half-naked, armed with only a bow and riding into an ambush.
* * *
“Then you think it might come to a battle between DeLac’s men and us?” Rob asked Gareth in a whisper as they sat together on a bench in the hall of Cwm Bron. It was nigh onto midnight, and the men who weren’t on watch were asleep on pallets nearby, along with the hounds. Men and dogs made small noises or grunts as they turned but didn’t wake.
Gareth stared at the glowing remains of the fire in the hearth. “It might, if Rheged wins. DeLac might not want to fight over her, but one look at that Broderick tells me he won’t take losing lightly, and he’s got enough men of his own at Dunborough to give us some trouble if he wants to.”
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