A Knight Of Her Dreams (Knights of Passion) (3 page)

Rowena went into his arms as if she had known him for years instead of days, and her mouth clung willingly to his lips. Her body trembled under the caress of his hands, and it was she who pulled off his tunic and ran her hands over his chest, tracing each little hurt and scar. There was a tattoo of a cross on his bicep; she hadn’t noticed it last night, which wasn’t surprising when there’d been so much that was new.

“What does it mean? Are you a brother in a monastery?”

He laughed. “Hardly a monk, lady. No, but I was in a monastery for a time. It doesn’t matter.” He reached to cup her breasts in his big hands, lapping his tongue over her hardening nipples. “This is what matters.”

“Yes,” she gasped.

She pushed him back onto the bedding, climbing astride him, excitement coursing through her blood at the thought of this man who was hers. Beneath her thighs she could feel his cock growing harder, and she wriggled so that its tip brushed her warm, slick folds. Her body ached for his, but she held back, letting herself explore the expanse of his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach.

“You are cruel, lady,” he groaned, when she nipped at his hard nipples.

Roget’s hands closed on her hips, lifting her easily with his great strength, and embedding himself inside her pussy. He filled her, made her gasp, as he slid deeper into her. The sensation was exquisite and for a moment Rowena did not move, so intent was she upon the moment.

And then he began to thrust up against her, and she pushed against him, resting her palms flat against his chest, kneeling astride him and riding him, just like she’d longed to ride a horse today. Rowena
tipped back her head, her hair tumbling about her naked body, and concentrated on the growing pleasure that was building where their bodies joined.

Roget stroked her breasts, fingering her nipples, then his back arched as his climax drew nearer and, panting, Rowena rode him harder, her own bliss roaring over her and tumbling her into his arms.

“I wish you could stay with me forever,” she said, when she could manage to speak. “I will never forget you, Roget.”

He stroked her skin. “Lady, I wish it too.”

She clung to him tighter, and felt his muscles bunch as he held her. Soon they would make love again, but for now being held by him was enough.

The heavy sound of soldiers’ boots approaching brought Rowena up in her bed upon the floor, blinking, pulling the covers up to her naked breasts. Roget was gone, she vaguely remembered him kissing her in the night before he slipped out of the chamber. Shocked, her eyes widened as the door was pushed open so hard it slammed against the wall.

Hugo stood a moment, taking in her undressed state, his lips curling, and then he gestured for the two soldiers behind him to drag in their captive.

It was Nell!

She was hanging limply between their arms, her face bruised, her lips swollen and bleeding. Someone had hurt her, and now as they dropped her on the floor near the bed, she gave a gasping sob.

“Oh Nell, what’s happened!” Rowena burst out, reaching for her robe and struggling into it, before kneeling beside the girl and slipping her arm about her.

“He made me tell,” she whimpered. “My lady, I’m so sorry, but he made me tell.”

Her dark eyes were bloodshot with crying and pain, and Rowena’s heart sank at her words. They knew about Roget! But where was he?

Nell seemed to guess what she was about to say.

“He got away,” she mouthed against Rowena’s ear.

Relieved, Rowena lifted her chin and gave Hugo a defiant stare. “How dare you treat my maid like
this! And how dare you burst into my chamber without permission.”

Hugo looked unimpressed.
“Lord Bigod gave his orders, lady. I was to watch you closely, and so I have. You have betrayed your husband and he will know what to do with you.”

Rowena felt her muscles trembling with fear. Her husband’s cruelty had never been turned on her, not yet. He still might simply send her from his gate
s in sackcloth.

“Leave me here,” she said as if she was issuing a command. “I will not come home. He can be free of me.”

But as she feared Hugo wasn’t about to let her go. “I don’t think so, lady,” he sneered. “You will be punished.”

The journey back to the castle seemed a long one, but
for Rowena it wasn’t long enough. Hugo dismounted and strode straight to Bigod to inform him that his wife had cuckolded him, and Rowena was taken down the dank stairs to the grated door that led to the dungeon.

She had never been there before, never wanted to. The screams that came from this place made her tremble, and she was ashamed now that she hadn’t done more to intercede for the prisoners. But she knew Bigod would never have listened to her
. Just as he would not listen to her now.

At least Nell had been spared. The girl had been taken to the servants’ quarters, and Rowena had made her promise she would run away at the earliest opportunity.

“But what of you, my lady?” the girl sobbed.

“Roget will save me,” she said
stoutly, wishing it was true. Roget was probably miles away now, and she was glad that he was. At least one of them was free, and perhaps sometimes he would remember her and their nights of passion. She could live through his memories, because Rowena was fairly sure she was going to die here in this horrible place.

It was several hours before Bigod made his way down to see her.

Rowena, chained to a stone bench, had dozed off and on despite the surroundings and her terror. When she heard the key in the lock she tried to sit up, but of course her wrists were fastened by metal bracelets and chains. He came and stood before her, cold eyes feasting on her dishevelled state. Hugo had not been gentle as he pulled her down here, slapping her across the face when she screamed, and her hair had come loose about her, while her fine skirt was torn.

“You cannot do this, husband,” she said, attempting to make her voice firm. “I have family who will want to know where I am.”

Bigod shook his head. “Your father cares nothing for you, Rowena. You were merely a counter to him, to be used to increase his own wealth. You are mine, to do with as I wish. Until now you have been good and compliant, but now . . . I think I will enjoy you better this way, the wayward wife, the woman who must be taught her lessons.”

The cruelty in his eyes was inhuman, and
Rowena tried not to shudder as he went to the wall and examined the torture implements hanging there in a neat row. Hugo was stoking the fire below the brazier, and she watched wide eyed as Bigod chose something that looked horribly like a branding iron for an animal.

“This is my mark,” he said with satisfaction
, showing her the ornate B at the end. “So you will not forget who you belong to again, wife.”

The anticipation was almost worse than the pain.
Almost. Watching Hugo heating the implement, smelling the metal as it began to glow red, and then watching her husband approaching with it. And then the searing agony as he pressed it to her thigh, before she fainted.

Rowena tried to open her eyes. She felt sick and dizzy, and the throbbing pain in her leg came in waves. They had left her alone again, but she knew they would be back, and when she heard the dungeon door opening, she almost screamed. But she told herself she must be brave, that if she refused to let him see her fear then Bigod would be denied that thing he longed for the most; his pleasure in breaking her spirit as well as her body.

Casting around desperately for some distraction, she thought of Roget. She pictured his face, his smile, the tenderness in his dark eyes.
The next moment, when a gentle hand cupped her face, brushing her hair from her eyes, she thought she must be imagining it. Slowly, unwilling to relinquish her dream, she opened her eyes.

Rowena gazed
up in wonder.

“
Roget?” she croaked, her throat dry and painful. “I dreamed of you. Are you still a dream?”

“No, my love.
I am not a dream.”

He was unshackling her and lifting her in his arms, careful of her injury, and a moment later she was being carried from the dungeon.

Nell tut-tutted over her, washing her and dressing her burn, tucking her into her bed. It was Nell who told her that Roget had come with a troop of men, and they had overrun the castle and taken Hugo prisoner. Bigod had refused to give in, and had died upon Roget’s sword.

Rowena was glad. Her husband would no longer hurt her, or anyone else. She was free of him.

“But what will happen to Roget?” she asked. “He will be punished for this. Bigod was a powerful man.”

Nell’s dark eyes sparkled, the bruises on her face already fading. “I have spoken with some of the soldiers, lady, and they tell me that Roget is a powerful man too. It was King Stephen who sent him to discover if the rumours about your husband’s cruelty were true.”

Rowena pondered on this, but it was another few days before Roget spoke to her himself. She was in her solar, seated in her carved wooden chair, her bandaged leg resting upon a stool, while Nell chattered to her. As soon as the maid saw him she scuttled away, with a brief grin for the two of them.

“Is it true?” Rowena demanded.

Roget came and knelt by her side, reaching for her hands. “My lady, I was sent to watch your husband by the king. There were rumours. A man like Bigod can make many enemies. He claimed to be Stephen’s vassal, but the king did not want such a man doing such evil work and at the same time claiming his blessing.

“I came to see what Bigod was up to, and then I saw you. I could not leave you to his mercies. I stayed to watch over you.”

Rowena reached to stroke his cheek, and when he bent his head to kiss her lips, clung to him to make it last.

“I was
too late, though,” he said sadly. “I did not reach you in time.”

“You saved my life, Roget.”

“But he hurt you first.”

Rowena sighed. “I will heal. Nell tells me that soon there will be little but a scar, and Bigod did such a bad job of his branding that it appears to be the letter R rather than B. It could just as easily stand for Rowena, or Roget.”

“You make a jest of it, my lady, but I will never forgive myself.”

“Ah Roget,” she whispered, her palm flat against his tunic. “If not for you I would never have known what it is to love. This small pain is worth it. I would have suffered much more
to be in your arms.”

The love in his dark eyes made her heart
grow full.

“My lord Roget?”

It was Nell at the door, and behind her a tall knight with brown hair. His smile lifted one corner of his mouth, a seductive movement that was not lost on the maid.

“Roget, I need to be leaving.
”

“
Fitzallen, this is the lady Rowena.” The way he said it made Fitzallen smile again, and then he turned his smile on Rowena and she could see why Nell swooned. The man was handsome; not so handsome as Roget, but there was definitely something that drew the eye.

“Fitz
allen,” she said, and reaching out took Roget’s hand in hers, “I thank you for what you have done for Roget and I.”

“Roget has been smitten with you, lady, since the first moment he saw you. I could not leave him in such a state without helping him to a happy ending.”

Roget frowned. “That is in poor taste, friend. Bigod was Lady Rowena’s husband.”

“And a very bad husband, too,” Rowena interceded, rallying her voice. “It is over now,” she added softly.

When Fitzallen had gone, Roget lifted her into his arms, sitting in the window seat as the sunshine spilled through onto the colourful cushions. “I feel guilty that I did not notice you,” she murmured, snuggling into his chest. “Not until that night at the hostelry.”

“I did not want you noticing me, Rowena. If you had paid me attention your husband would have sent me away, or Hugo would have locked me in the dungeon.
They were always watching you, waiting for you to do something wrong, you just didn’t notice. Sweet Rowena.”

“Will you stay, Roget? I don’t know whether I will be able to live here, but . . .”

“The king wants you to stay here and rule wisely. And I will stay with you, if you will marry me.”

Rowena knew she could bear anything—even the memories of th
e dungeon—with Roget by her side. There would be no more torture in this place; their home would be filled with love.

She reached up to kiss his lips, feeling passion growing between them. “Yes,” she said.
“Always.”

Their kiss deepened, and he groaned. “Lady you are not well enough to—”

But her laughter stopped his words. “Roget, I am nearly healed and I think if I do not lay with you now, in my bed, then I will pine and fade away and die.”

He chuckled and lifted her again, carrying her to the bed.
Her body trembled beneath his hands, and when he filled her, thrusting slowly and deeply, Rowena held him tightly, until they cried out together.