“Sending that old witch after me…that was not pleasant. But I have come to expect such wickedness from you.”
She glared at him, trying her best to put up a brave and angry front…even as her heart increased its beats because of his closeness.
“It serves you right, Guy of Gisborne. You are sorely lacking in humility, and I am glad she humbled your pride.”
He suddenly dipped his head towards her neck, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the assault. But she felt a strange sensation as he brushed his nose against her ear…grazing the sensitive spot just behind it.
“The scent is lavender, is it not? I have come to enjoy that fragrance very much.”
Her breath grew short…her heart beginning to pound. He spoke of her scent. But his was so intoxicating, so masculine, clean and fresh from the bath he’d been forced to take. And he was so warm. He wasn’t touching her, but the heat coming off of him was intense. Bringing his eyes to meet hers, she saw how their color had darkened slightly, shaded with the potency of lust. His lips were so close, so tempting…and only a grain of her sense kept her from quickly giving in. She had to resist until the last possible moment, so he would know she had fought her hardest. He may have had her cornered, but he would know she was no easy conquest. When he made to brush his lips to hers, she turned her head away.
“I told you I will not be your whore.”
Reaching out, he took her chin between his finger and thumb, making her look at him. “I do not wish you to be. You are far too clever, too proud to be a common trollop.”
“Then what would you have me be?”
She looked into his eyes as they searched hers, and now she found she hadn’t the power to look away.
“You will be my lover. It has a much more pleasant connotation, does it not?” He grazed her ear with a brush of his lips, sending a sharp wave of pleasure through her body as he whispered softly to her.
“We are so very similar, Cassia. Castoffs, the both of us. We have no real place in the world, no one to return to at the end of a weary day. We have only ourselves to think about.”
Her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them again, his burning gaze was on her once more. She felt herself weakening, powerless against him. Yet still she managed to speak one last time.
“You think far too much of yourself already.”
He smirked in that way of his. Then his mouth met hers, his lips firm and demanding. It had been so long since she’d known a man’s kiss. It was an incredible sensation that had been long forgotten…until now.
Years of repressed emotions and bodily sensations came flooding back to life, a powerful force she could not deny, and with a whimper of defeat she brought her hands up to travel through his hair. Clasping his head firmly, she pressed his mouth closer, relishing the taste of him…wanting more. When his lips urged hers to part she could not resist, letting her tongue dance madly with his. His hands wandered down her back to her waist, then to her hips, and gripping her firmly he pulled her body tightly against his, and she could feel his hardness against her belly. She knew it was wrong to want him so badly. She knew that he would probably use her a few times and grow bored. But at that moment, she didn’t care what happened after. She only knew she didn’t want him to stop.
But a noise from outside penetrated the fog in her brain. The geese were squawking loud. Someone was coming to the house. Father. Oh good Lord!
She pushed at Guy’s shoulders, but he would not budge, cling…un her as his mouth still plundered hers. It wasn’t until his lips sought her neck that she was able to speak, and with his hot, damp mouth ravaging her skin, words were not easy to form. But if she did not speak, disaster would soon fall on them both.
“Guy, we must stop. If my father finds us, the consequences will be dire.”
For a moment she feared the worst, certain he would not listen. But his movements stilled, his breath heaving hotly against her neck. She carefully disengaged herself from his arms, unable to look at him, for to look at him again was to face temptation…and in that moment temptation was too great a danger. She moved on shaky limbs back to the table, and from the corner of her eye she saw Guy sink into a nearby chair. Just as he did, the front door opened.
Robert walked in, but Cassia could not look at him. It was well enough that she managed to keep on her feet, for the encounter with Guy had shaken her to the core. And she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
Chapter 9
If he’d had a weapon at hand, he might have killed Robert DeWarren.
It took every bit of discipline he had not to act on his murderous impulse. His body was so at mutiny with his mind that when he sank into the chair, he had to turn his face away from the boith them. Especially from Cassia.
Closing his eyes, he tried to clear his mind. But he could not forget the way her soft body molded perfectly to his, or the taste of her kiss…sweeter than honey mead, with her little tongue moving against his so eagerly. She’d responded with such fervor, and if it hadn’t been for her damned father, he was certain they would have enjoyed each other properly.
“My lord Gisborne, I would like a moment alone with my daughter.”
The sound of Robert’s voice startled him slightly, shaking him from his thoughts for a moment…and it angered him. His response was low and cross.
“Have your blasted moment then, DeWarren. But do so outside if you wish for privacy. I am quite unwilling to leave the comfort of this chair.”
Discomfort was a more fitting word. Having had his lustful wishes unfulfilled, it would take some time to calm himself. And yet, the moment he saw Robert leading Cassia out, his curiosity was instantly stirred. He was no simpleton. They were going out there to discuss him.
Despite the pain overtaking him, in his foot and everywhere in between, he pulled himself from the chair to hobble towards the door. Every step was torture, but he gritted his teeth, reminding himself that he’d endured more agony than this before. He’d had enough of being lamed as it was. But at the moment, that thought was a small one. He was more occupied with discovering what DeWarren was up to. Leaning against the doorframe, he listened to their low-spoken conversation.
*****
“What goes on between you and lord Gisborne?
Her eyes widened a little. Not wanting to lie, but not wanting to upset him further, she shook her head slightly. “Nothing, Father.”
He narrowed his gaze, scrutinizing the expression she wore. “Do not lie to me, Cassia. I have seen the burning in your face. It is still there. Did he accost you in some way?”
She shook her head, insistent. “Nothing happened.”
There was a long moment, and Cassia watched her father’s expression, which was quickly set with a light of finality. Clearly, he had come to some sort of decision, and she feared now to hear what he would say.
“He can no longer remain here. You are in peril so long as we house him. And he is well enough now to return to Nottingham.”
She wagged her head again, only now it was with alarm. Despite every good reason there was to be rid of Guy of Gisborne, the thought that he would actually be gone was crushing. No matter what he had done, or what he would do, she found herself terrified at the idea of losing him. She fought for a credible reason that he should stay.
“He cannot go, Father. His ankle is not yet healed.”
But Robert shook his head in denial.
“It matters not,” he insisted. “Gisborne is a threat, and I will tolerate his presence not one moment longer.”
“But Father…”
“We will not discuss it!”
Dropping her eyes to the ground, she felt the burn of tears. She knew why he wished Guy away, and she could not find it in her heart to think ill of him for it. As much as she loved Gisborne, she loved her Father even more. When his voice became soft and kind, her tears spilled forth. He reached out with a gentle hand to grasp her shoulder.
“I lost your dear mother in childbe
d, and your younger brother with her. I lost your brother Stephen to the pilgrimage. I will not lose my only daughter as well.”
With a lump in her throat she could hardly speak, except to whisper a few short words. “What will you do about him?”
“You need not concern yourself with that, daughter. Just know that when he is removed from our lives, it will be for the better.”
How? She wanted to ask. How can it be better if I lose the man I love?
But she did not ask it. To protest further would be a gesture of disrespect. And in truth, she knew that her Father spoke wisely. Guy of Gisborne was indeed a dangerous secret to keep. Not only because of his volatile personality, nor his powerful position as a nobleman…but because he had her heart, and it did not matter to him in the slightest. She loved him and wanted him more than ever, but deep inside she knew that he couldn’t return those feelings. If he felt anything for her, it was only a passing interest spurred on by the power of lust. There was no love in his heart. And if she was foolish enough to give in to him, despite their powerful attraction to one another, she knew it would only lead to her own ruin.
“I must see to the milking," Robert said. "You will finish your work as well. Dark comes soon.”
She did not raise her head as he left her. It was several long minutes more before she turned to go back inside. And when she did, she did not at first see Guy as he stood in a shadowed corner. It wasn’t until he spoke from the darkness that she realized he was there.
“So your Father thinks to be rid of me, does he?
She spun around quickly, startled by the broken quiet of the room. But taking a calming breath, she turned away from him to return to her bread making.
“He is right. We can keep you here no longer. You know as well as I that you have no further need of us.”
His steps grew slowly closer…and his voice became soft.
“What we need and what we want are two different things, are they not?”
He paused, and she could feel his eyes upon her. He was just a few steps away, so close she coud almost feel him. Breathing deep, she tried her best to be calm, even under the heated scrutiny of his gaze.
“What we want is of little concern in this life. Now please leave me. I have to finish my work.”
Even as she spoke, she knew he would not go. A moment later she felt him moving again, drawing close to her side. She could feel his warmth, just as before. Her heart trembled as she felt him beside her, his eyes looking down on her. He was so close she could hear his breathing. And yet she refused to look at him, knowing that if she met his eyes, she would lose herself to him all over again. She turned away from him, even as he lowered his head to murmur a question close to her ear.
“Have you considered my offer?”
She moved a small step away, seeking distance from him, squaring her shoulders firmly. “There is nothing to consider. My only concern is for my father, and I will not shame him by becoming your mistress.” Even as she declared her words, she felt his hand reaching out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger. He continued to speak in that low, velvet tone.
“You could profit quite handsomely if you were mine. Fine clothing, jewels. Maids and valets to see to your needs. You would not need to serve anyone.”
“Except you?” Now she turned to face him, unable to help herself.
He smirked. “Judging from what occurred just a short while ago, I do not believe you would mind it.”
I would not mind it, she thought. I would give anything to be with you. I want to be with you…Oh Lord, how much!
She wanted to tell him so. She was but a moment from throwing herself into his arms, pleading with him to kiss her as he had before, to press his strong and solid body against hers once again…and only one thought kept her from seeking his arms.
“I cannot abandon my father. I will not abandon him.”
His response was a careless shrug. “Perhaps I can find him a position as a servant in my household.”
She eyed him with a cynical expression.
“You would make him a servant, and let him suffer utter humiliation? Do you not think your other servants would talk about him, whispering that his daughter lies with the master of the house?” She shook her head stubbornly. “I will not dishonor him in that way.”
He let out an angry breath, the sound almost a growl. He reached out to take her by both arms, holding her firmly, pulling her tight against his body.
“Your willfulness is infuriating. And you should consider yourself fortunate. If I was inclined to force you to my will, you would not have the power to stop me.”
Bringing her gaze up, she looked directly into his fierce eyesand behind that angry light shining there, she could see something else.
He is not capable of violence against me. In her heart, she knew it was the truth. And yet, she knew he was not yet able to admit such a vulnerability. His pride kept him from it. And in handling him, a touch of defiance was still needed.
“If you force yourself on me, you will not find the conquest you seek. To take me that way is to have only my physical being. My heart and soul are mine to give or keep as I choose.”
A long moment passed, rife with tension. Then she felt his grip loosen. He released her, and slowly he turned away, silently moving to the chair in the corner. For several moments she watched him, wondering if he would look at her or say something. But he was still and silent. So she turned back to her bread making…until a faint noise from outside caught her ear.
“Did you hear that?”
He didn’t answer. Turning towards the door she strained her ears to listen, and a sudden fear gripped her when she realized there were several voices coming from outside…and they did not sound friendly.
“Bandits,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. But Guy must have caught what she said, for he rose from his seat and came near.
“Bandits?” he said, looking skeptical. “What would thieves find here to steal?”
“Whatever they please,” she answered. “Our chickens, our geese, our milking goats. Anything that might fetch even a small price.” She snatched up a heavy iron skillet from the table. “I must go out there and stop them.”
He reached out and gripped her arm. “Are you out of your mind? Do you think a woman with a cooking pan is any match for determined criminals?”
“My father is out there and I will not let him come to harm!”
For a few moments he simply looked at her, saying nothing. And then he pulled her back, away from the door. A determined look was in his eyes, and she watched as he disappeared into the sick room for a moment. When he came back, her eye moved to his hand…which the handle of a long, shining dagger.
“Stay here. Do not come outside, do you understand?”
Thinking only of her father, she ignored his demand instantly and stepped forward to follow him…until he pushed her against the wall and held her there.
“DO AS I SAY!”
His demand was so fierce, so powerful, that she was stunned into silence. She could only nod slightly, watching as he went out the door.
*****
Drunkards.
The sound was not dificult to discern. Probably it was some neighboring peasants who had tipped back too much ale. Now they were wandering about in search of trouble…but they would find more than they’d bargained for, if he had anything to do with it.
Criminal scum. Time served in the dungeons is too kind. A knife to the throat or the gullet would serve them better.
But as he approached, he saw it wasn’t peasants at all. It was three Nottingham guards…and if there was anything more useless than the poor, it was Briwere’s men. At least peasants could be put to work. What were the guards, other than to be expendable. And right then, the worthless fools were ransacking Robert DeWarren’s animal pen. One guard was forcing chickens into a burlap sack, while another held Robert back to keep him from struggling…and the third guard was leading a horse out of the
barn.
His horse. He heard their drunken glee at finding such a prize.
“Well, mates! Look here at what I found! He will fetch a proper price, won’t he?”
The man holding Robert twisted the old man’s arm tighter, chuckling at the painful gasp it produced. Spitting on the side of his captive’s face, he sneered at him. “Tell us, old man. Where did a lowly peasant like you get such a fine beast?”
Guy’s voice came from the dark.
“He is mine.”
The guard who held Robert tried to turn and look at who had spoken…but a moment later a dagger was thrust up between his shoulder blades, piercing his lung, killing him instantly. Mouth wide open, eyes wide in shock, his body fell to the ground as Guy pulled out the knife…and trained his eyes on his next target. The guard who held his horse stood frozen in fear, eyes huge with shock, as he looked upon the face of his long lost master. Just before he reached the petrified man, Guy could suddenly smell the stench of piss…evidence of a man who was certain he was being confronted by a spirit. The guard fell to his knees, begging for mercy.
“Spare me, ghost! Spare me!”
He was silenced by a violent twist of the neck and the snap of bone, and the next moment he lay dead on the ground. Guy turned for his third victim, who was staring in bald shock and slowly backing away, preparing to flee. Knowing he was in no condition to run, Guy still moved forward in pursuit…until a shadow appeared from the darkness. Then there was the sound of iron meeting a human skull, and the guard crumbled to the ground. As the form came closer Guy realized it was Cassia, who held her skillet in her hand. He scowled at her as she came to the side of her father, who had fallen to his knees. Guy’s eyes narrowed in anger at her.
“I thought I told you to stay inside.”
Her words were defiant. “As if your commands mean anything to me.”
She put her arms around her father, slowly helping him to his feet. While she led him back to the house, Guy examined his horse and found the animal to brcin. He glanced around, his eyes focusing on the bodies of the three guards. Two would have to be buried. The third he wasn’t sure of. Was the man alive or dead? In all honesty he didn’t care either way. But he knew he couldn’t leave corpses lying around to be discovered.
The Tempest: A Guy of Gisborne Story Page 8