“Please do not torture them!” Edeva’s stomach twisted into knots at the thought of Alnoth suffering. “If it’s information you seek, let me speak to them. I will find out whatever you wish to know!”
“Not likely,” Fornay answered, his dark eyes gleaming.
“But Alnoth is only a boy! He won’t see fifteen years until after Yule!”
“He was man enough to set the fires that drew our men into your trap. Two men lie sore wounded because of his actions. Even if he were not a Saxon, he would be punished for that.”
Edeva felt her heart grow heavy. There did not seem to be any way to save Alnoth. Unless she could convince Jobert to spare them. Jesu, she would do nearly anything to accomplish that. Vow to serve as his chatelaine forever... Spy upon her other brothers and betray them to the Normans...
Nay. As angry as she was with Godric and Beornwold for risking Alnoth’s life and burning the village, she did not want them to die.
What could she offer Jobert to sway him to mercy?
“I would advise you not to do anything until Lord Brevrienne gives the order,” she told Fornay, then started toward the stairs.
The Norman caught her arm. “Where do you go?”
“To see Brevrienne.”
“Nay.” Fornay’s eyes gleamed. “You will not use your witch’s wiles on him while he is weak and injured.”
“Who will stop me?” Edeva challenged.
“I will.” Fornay moved closer.
Edeva was tall for a woman, and Fornay short for a man. They stood almost face-to-face. “How?” she asked silkily
Fornay’s grip tightened on her arm. “Do not try my patience, wench. I might decide to have you thrown into the souterrain with the others.”
“Nay!” Wulfget gasped. “She is our lady. You cannot!”
Fornay looked at Wulfget as if she had sprouted two heads. Mayhaps if she had, he would have been less surprised. Edeva, too, was stunned. What had gotten into shy, meek Wulfget? And where had she learned to speak Norman French?
The young woman looked away and said in a muffled voice. “Do not do it, Alan. Please. ’Tis not right.”
The Norman grew uneasy. “I was merely threatening,” he said.
Edeva stepped past him. Behind, she heard Wulfget’s soft voice. “Let her go, Alan.”
Edeva wondered at the power Wulfget had over the Norman knight. It seemed Fornay would do whatever he could to please the young woman. Edeva wondered if she had any of that same sort of power over Jobert. If she begged him for Alnoth’s life, would he heed her?
Edeva climbed the stairs, deep in thought. This would be the test of Jobert’s feelings for her. If she could sway him to spare Alnoth, she would know he cared.
And if she could not?
She feared that if Jobert ordered Alnoth’s death, a part of her would die.
Poor Alnoth! She thought of him down in the dark, cold cellar. Her little brother. She had cared for him since she was a toddling youngster and he, a wide-eyed, round-faced babe. At four years older, she had usually managed to make him do her will. But she had also mothered and comforted him, taking pleasure in his accomplishments as he grew. Now all her efforts would be wasted. His life ended before it had really begun.
A sob rose in Edeva’s throat as she opened the door to the bedchamber. There must be some way to convince Jobert to spare Alnoth. She had to try.
* * *
He woke to hear two people talking. Edeva and a man. Will, he thought, although he could not be certain. All of his recollection of the past day seemed hazy.
Something had happened. The fire in the village... an ambush... some men injured... Saxons captured.
The thoughts seemed far away, as if they were in someone else’s mind. The sleeping potion. It eased his pain, but made him feel as if his head were stuffed with unspun wool.
He could not make out what Edeva and the man were saying.
Footsteps. The door opened and closed. Jobert forced his eyes open, wondering if they had left him.
Edeva stood on the other side of the chamber, washing. She had taken off her kirtle and pushed her shift down off her shoulders. Her back was bare and her braids fell forward, revealing her pale, slender neck. The sight made something inside him throb.
She pushed the shift down and began to wash her underarms and breasts. Jobert watched, entranced. Had ever a woman had such beautiful breasts? So full and opulent, yet firm to the touch, like some exquisite ripe fruit. With round, smooth nipples the color of strawberries.
She dropped the washing cloth in the bowl of water and turned away from the table. Her breasts swayed enticingly with each movement.
Her actions were slow, almost dreamlike. He watched her undo her braids and smooth the rippling tresses with her fingers. Then she went to the chest in the corner and fetched her comb.
The comb slid sinuously through the wavy strands. Then she brought it up again to repeat the journey. Curls of gold blanketed her breasts like a sheer, alluring garment.
He longed to sweep the soft locks away and reveal the perfection beneath.
At last, she put the comb aside and grasped some strands of hair as if she meant to plait it once more.
“Edeva.” He forced the word from his dry throat.
She turned, and he saw her embarrassment as she realized he had been watching her. Instinctively, she tried to pull up her shift.
“Nay,” he said. “I would not have you cover yourself. I vow the sight of you heals me with each glance.” He smiled at her, trying to appear healthy and strong. At least one part of him was functional. His shaft strained against the blankets covering him, as hard and eager as ever. “Bring me a drink,” he said. “My mouth is dry.”
She went to do his bidding, and he admired the smooth grace of her movements. When she brought the cup to him, he reached out to take it, his eyes still fixed on her.
“I’m surprised you seem so alert,” she said. “I thought the drug would make you sleep through the night.”
The drug. That was what made his thoughts swim, his vision almost dreamlike. He would not tell her that his wits were not yet aright. If he did, she might not be willing to do what he wished of her. She would see him as a sickly, injured man, not the randy stallion his lower body assured him he was.
He drank the water down. It seemed delicious, nectar from heaven. All his senses were keen and yet not quite normal. His thoughts still slipped away from him before he could fully think them.
“Take off your shift,” he whispered. His words seemed slurred; he hoped she would not notice.
She hesitated. “Are you certain?”
“Yea, very certain. The sight of you...” He did not finish, knowing his hungry gaze told her the rest.
She undressed like a virgin, shy and uncertain. Jobert caught his breath, wondering if he could bear it. She approached the bed, the gleaming gold triangle of her maiden’s hair at the same level as his face. He forced his eyes upward, to the bounty of her breasts and then, her beguiling face.
He reached out and splayed his hand over one warm, silky nipple. “Lean toward me,” he whispered.
Slowly, smoothly, she did so. He took her nipple in his mouth and teased the nub with his tongue. With his hand, he caressed her other breast, matching the rhythm of his lips.
She liked it slightly rough, he recalled. Her body seemed to tense as he increased the pressure. He used his teeth with utmost delicacy, and was rewarded with a groan from her lips.
Suddenly, he wanted to kiss her. He released her breasts and reached up to draw her face down to his. Gentle, slow.
Those full, petulant lips against his own. His tongue brushed across them, then sought the liquid warmth of her mouth. Exploring, mating with her tongue, then thrusting strongly, possessively between her lips.
She trembled, leaning over him, and he drew her onto the bed, rolling her across his body.
“Jobert,” she moaned, “you’ll hurt your shoulder.”
“N
ay, I will let you do all the work.”
She drew away, eyes wide. He knew she remembered the way they had pleasured each other when she bathed him. He shook his head and wordlessly pulled the covers back to reveal his bold erection. “I would be inside you this time.”
She looked at his ruddy, engorged organ. Again, she hesitated. “Jobert,” she whispered, “do you care for me?”
He frowned, startled by her question. Never before had she asked anything like that of him. “Of course,” he answered.
“And if I asked a boon of you, would you consider it?” He reached up and drew her down, kissing her deeply. “What sort of boon?”
“Let the Saxon prisoners live, at least the younger one. Please, Jobert.” She pulled away, her breasts jiggling before his fascinated eyes. His hunger for their joining made it difficult for him to think.
“Promise me,” she whispered breathily. “If you will grant me this boon, I will do anything you ask. Anything,” she repeated.
He nodded, his mind swimming with thoughts of the delights ahead of them. He’d had Edeva as a virgin and as a seductress. Now he would experience her as his willing slave.
The only thing troubling him was where to begin. As much as he longed to drag out their foreplay, he knew his willpower would not last long. “I want to be inside you,” he said.
She took a deep breath and looked at him, as if puzzling out the meaning of his request. Then she moved her body over his.
He watched her maneuver herself into position, her long, golden-skinned thighs splayed wide. Although he longed to touch, taste and explore the folds of her delicious womanhood, he forbore those splendors. This time, it would be she who guided him inside her silky opening. He would not aid her, only watch.
She grasped him with uncertain fingers, then brought her hips down.
Jobert closed his eyes as he slid into warm, slick paradise. He’d forgotten how tight she was, how exquisitely, torturously snug. For a moment, he wondered if she would be able to move, with him impaling her, penetrating deep. Then she gave a gasp and lifted her hips and thrust downward.
He gritted his teeth against the compulsion to climax instantly. Nay, he would not let this moment be the end of it. Somehow, he would last. Somehow, he would even manage to watch.
To distract himself, he concentrated on her pleasure, bringing his hand to the place where they were joined and stroking the swollen, distended opening that enveloped him. She shuddered at his caress, and he felt her grow even wetter.
His fingers moved faster, urging her on. She threw back her head and gave a helpless cry. He enjoyed an ecstatic vision of her release, reveling in the sight of her intent lovely face, the dazzling beauty of her voluptuous body, primed now to the peak of sexual magnificence. He reached up and drew her face down, joining her mouth with his as he lunged upward with his hips.
Waves of vibration flowed over him as she reached the summit once more. His own control snapped and plunged him headlong into pulsing, violent rapture.
He came to himself again, still clutching her sweat-dewed body. Gently, he slipped out of her and pulled her down to rest her face against his chest. His fingers stroked her lush hair as he caught his breath. In the back of his muddled, hazy mind, he wondered how long it would be before he grew aroused again.
She had said she would do anything...
EIGHTEEN
Jobert sat up and clutched his head in his hands. Jesu, he felt wretched! As if he’d spent the night in some foul tavern where the wine had flowed as freely as water. His mouth tasted foul, and his body felt as if he’d been in a violent brawl, especially his shoulder, where a fierce pain stabbed to the bone.
He rose and went to rinse out his mouth and use the chamber pot, then started back to the bed, musing over his fanciful, erotic dreams. Not since he’d been a green squire had he experienced such heated, vivid fantasies. They seemed almost real.
Two feet from the bed, Jobert paused. Edeva lay sprawled across the other side, her long hair wildly arrayed over her naked, sleep-flushed body. Suddenly, he knew that those compelling, provocative images had not been dreams.
As if she sensed him watching her, Edeva stirred. She brushed the hair out of her face and raised her head. Her blue eyes met his nakedness. She looked him up and down, and then went still. She, too, recalled the past night. She looked away.
Jobert watched her, puzzled. Though some of the things he remembered almost shocked him, he knew she had been willing. Why did she avert her eyes?
He moved closer, as if he meant to climb back in the bed. She took a sharp breath and slid back the blankets to reveal her breasts. But if her body presented an enticing picture, her expression appeared uneasy, almost distraught.
Worse yet, there was guilt in her eyes.
Jobert was mystified. Mayhaps it was natural for a modest woman to be a bit uncomfortable after a night of abandoned pleasure. But his instincts told him that this was something else.
Whatever troubled her, he was not up to dealing with it this morning. Not until he ate, at least.
He dressed. Before he left the room, he returned to the bed. Edeva still looked troubled. He bent over to give her a quick kiss. She scarce acknowledged the brief touch of his lips.
He went down to the hall and ordered the first servant he saw to bring him food. Sitting down at one of the tables, he exhaled a heavy sigh. His thoughts felt disordered, his body weak and fatigued.
“Jobert!” Alan hurried toward him. “I am relieved to see you up.” He sat down on the bench across the table. “I’ve come from the Saxon prisoners. I say it is hopeless. Even if we could get them to betray their fellow rebels, how would we understand them? The only people who speak enough Saxon to translate are the miller and Edeva, and we can’t trust either of them. I say we hang the wretches now and be done with it.”
Curse it. He’d forgotten about the Saxons.
Alan’s expression grew harsh. “I know the woman will argue otherwise, but you can’t be swayed by her. The Saxons have cost us good men. Niles will mend, but his arm may not be the same. As for Rob, no one seems to know. The healer in the village said he should lie still and take only liquids, no real food. If he becomes fevered, there is a potion he is to take. Otherwise, we wait and see if the wound grows poisoned. Wulfget is watching him now.” He jerked his head toward the screen in the corner of the hall.
Like blows to his aching head, worries assaulted Jobert. He used the excuse of eating to avoid commenting. Alan told him more about the conflict of the previous day, and then fell silent.
As he finished his food, Jobert looked up to see Edeva standing nearby. She’d braided her hair in the usual demure style and donned one of her simple work kirtles, but the image of her spectacular nakedness lingered in his mind.
Seeing her, Alan’s eyes narrowed. “What say you, Jobert? Do we hang the prisoners today? The gallows are almost finished.”
“Nay! You cannot. You promised me, Jobert!”
Alan’s mouth dropped open. Then he said, “What did she do, completely sap your reason with her whoring ways?”
At his words, Edeva went crimson, and Jobert suddenly guessed the source of her guilt. Before they made love, she had asked that provocative, coaxing question, ‘Do you care for me, Jobert?”
A sense of uneasiness permeated his thoughts. Had Edeva bedded him simply because she wanted him to spare her brother? How much of her passion was pretense? Had she enjoyed any of it? If she would spread her thighs to save one brother, what might she do to save the rest of her kin?
Anger rose in him, swift and hard. She saw the change. Her eyes widened. “Please,” she whispered.
Jobert pushed the remains of his food aside and rose. “Let us go see the prisoners, Edeva. You and I.”
Edeva’s insides tightened with anxiety as she followed Jobert through the hall. He thought she had tricked him! He might even believe Fornay’s accusations. For all she knew, he was taking her to the souterrain to join the other pri
soners.
Her heart pounded as she hurried to catch up with him. She glanced at his face, searching for some sign of sympathy or tenderness. His features seemed carved of stone, his mouth set grimly, his eyes staring straight ahead.
Her panic increased. Should she try to explain, tell him that she had pleasured him not simply because she hoped to win mercy for her brother, but because she longed for his touch?
Why should he believe her? To him, her actions must appear calculating. She could not forget how she asked him to show mercy to her brother, promising him “anything” if he agreed.
Anything. What a suggestive word, laden with possibilities. She had fulfilled her part of the agreement. The things she had done—she could scarce think of them without blushing to her toes.
Her thighs spread over his face, the intimate acts his tongue and lips had performed.
Things she had done to him. Near swallowing his shaft, tasting his seed and the flavor of herself upon him. His hands cupping her buttocks as he urged her on. His fingers flicking lightly against her cleft to make her scream, even while his own passion crested hot and wet deep inside her.
He awoke some madness within her. The more she experienced, the more she hungered for. She had been eager for every tantalizing secret he taught her.
But now, things between them were suddenly tainted with doubt and deception. Would he ever think of their wild, uninhibited lovemaking without believing she had manipulated him?
They reached the souterrain entrance and waited there while Jobert sent a squire back for a torch. Edeva began to pace.
“What is it, Edeva?” he asked. “Do you fear I will take back my promise?”
She met his cold green gaze and the breath seemed to leave her body. “My lord, I... ”
“Nay, do not speak of it. I would have my memories if nothing else.”
He turned away, as if he could not stand the sight of her. Edeva swallowed, wondering what he would do. He was a man of honor. His word given, even under questionable circumstances, was still his word. He would not hang her brother, but there would be some other price paid—she felt certain of it.
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