Always Mine (19 page)

Noon one day found them at the side of a steep hill covered with beautiful yellow and white wildflowers. Spencer stood guard as Brianna refreshed herself at a stream.

His lady cried out strange words. He gasped. When she came from behind the trees, he was frightened by her pale face. “Be you ill, Lady? Please, dinna worry. I will get help.”

He broke into a run toward their camp.

“My lord, come quickly. Your lady wife cried out she had been pinched from a ‘frigging crap.’ From the looks of her, she may have a fit!”

Damron’s mouth flew open. With a stern command for Spencer to say no more, he went to find his undisciplined wife. Several steps from the woods, Brianna appeared, her face white and strained, her clothing rumpled. His jaw snapped together. His face twitched.

“I suppose you wish to lecture now, my lord?” Brianna rolled her eyes and squared her shoulders.

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Damron frowned at the men giving her sympathetic looks.

“Ye will sit and eat. For now.” When Brianna had choked down most of her meal, he poured her cup half full of ale.

“Drink it.”

“I don’t need ale for courage, lord husband.”

Without a word, he held the cup to her lips. She would drink it or he would hold it there until she did. After she gulped down the ale, he guided her away from the camp. Neither spoke as they studied each other.

“’Tis yer woman’s time, wife?” His gaze swept over her.

“It’s personal, and nothing to do with you.”

“Everythin’ about ye has to do with me. Even the words spring-ing from yer mouth that are fit only for a slattern’s speech. Time and again I have ordered ye to cease speaking such.”

Damron frowned at her. The longer he knew her, the more he realized no one had schooled her to be an obedient wife. From this day on, he would be more diligent in correcting her. He must needs curb her unseemly behavior, or he would soon lose the respect of his men if they thought his wife could defy him.

“Which words did you think unfit?”

“Ye well know there were two. I need not know the words to ken they be crude Saxon curses. I warned ye when we first met not to curse, and ye have defied me.”

“Why would you think they were curses? Surely you have seen friggin’ crappers before?”

Astonished at her nerve, his mouth gaped.

“Why, they are large spiders. They have very hairy legs and a shell-like body.” She avoided his eyes and shifted from one foot to the other. “Their ugly green eyes protrude. Surely you know of them?” She peeked up at him and opened her mouth to speak again.

“Nay. Not another word.”

His shout made her hesitate. But not for long.

“Wait! I suppose you also don’t know Frigg was the name

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of the Norse goddess of love? She was Odin’s wife, the goddess of heaven who presides over marriage and the home.”

“Dinna ye ken when to surrender?” He tugged her arm and hurried her toward the camp.

“The goddess is doomed to sorrow if she thinks to preside over this marriage,” Brianna muttered.

He pretended not to hear her.

He heard her grind her teeth.

“Medieval ass,” she whispered so low had he not a hawk’s hearing, he would have missed it.

He near stopped again, but decided to ignore it. From the corner of his eye, he saw her stare at a rock ahead. He grabbed her waist and lifted her as she swung a leg back to kick it. Her foot met thin air. She was astride Sweetpea afore she knew what had happened.

He set a fast pace.

From the moment he first laid eyes on Brianna, the man had watched her. He was welcome amongst them, for he rode with his laird’s brother, Eric. At the edge of night, he crouched behind bushes to spy on her as she tended to her bathing.

Fools. They know not the one they seek is amongst them.

The Welshman willna sense me. I ha’e my own tricks. You
willna long have her, Damron. Soon it will be within my arms
she sleeps, my body warming her, my rod making her moan.

Her belly will swell, and e’en to the day she whelps, she will
be mine.

Chapter 12

Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, startling Brianna awake. Careful not to rouse Damron, Brianna eased off the pallet and slipped from the tent. She drew in a shuddering breath as she lifted her face to the flashing night sky. How could she survive in this primitive world? She had thought hard about trying to find a way back. Since the elements helped send her here to the past, couldn’t they also take her back?

Closer now, bolts of lightning streaked the velvet-black sky, beautiful to the sight but fearful in their intensity.

Heavenly Father, what am I to do?
Damron believed a horse is more important than a wife. He didn’t want a partner, a helpmate. He wanted a brainless woman to see to his creature comforts. She couldn’t be that woman. Well, hell, she didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. How could they ever find happiness together, when they were always butting heads like two angry rams locking horns and pawing at the ground?

Lightning struck ever closer. Tears slipped from her closed eyes as her body arched, arms raised, inviting the storm’s power.

Damron jolted awake. Lightning silhouetted Brianna’s form against the tent wall as she raised her arms as though

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entreating the heavens. His heart lurched as a man raced toward her, a cape billowing as he threw it over her head and snatched her up in his arms.

Damron burst from the tent, his sword ready to strike. Her captor turned. Waited. Bleddyn’s gentle eyes gazed back at him.

“Bloody accursed Lucifer. What has happened?” Damron shouted above the crashing thunder.

“I awoke to see Brianna facing the advancing storm. She was walking in her sleep,” Bleddyn said as he sprinted into the tent with Brianna. He set her on her feet, then wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

“Wife, what say ye? I would have the truth.” Though his voice softened, his stern gaze did not allow hers to shift away.

“As Nathaniel said, I was sleepwalking.” She glanced at the Welshman. His lips were pressed together, his brow furrowed.

He knew she had dared the elements, and was angry.

“Pray excuse us, Bleddyn.” Damron’s gaze pinned her to the spot as the Welshman left.

She swallowed, and her gaze shifted.

He grunted and nodded his head, as if acknowledging she had every right to be uneasy. “Lady, tell me the true reason ye stood facin’ a storm.” He held up his hand. “Nay. Not the handy excuse Bleddyn fed ye. Look at me, not my chest, when ye speak.”

“How can I? You’re too blasted tall.” She glared up at him.

The stubborn man was near to a giant. She could sure use some spike heels now. She spied a small chest about a foot high, and stamped over to climb up on it. Unsteady, she wobbled and threw her arms out to the side for balance.

He rolled his eyes. “Ye dinna see past yer nose. Ye canna find yer way around a circle, and ye are as graceful as a sotted chicken.”

“Not a day passes that you don’t lecture me and complain.”

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Her breath hitched, and she clamped her lips together.

His lips tightened, causing the nearby scar to turn white. “I but list your faults so ye may mend them. Ye try to distract me, wife. I am waiting.”

“You’re naked. I can’t talk when you’re naked.” She looked up at the top of the tent, avoiding him and trying to think of a way to divert his attention from her attempt to test the storm.

Damron huffed. After hearing the rustle of clothing, she looked back at him. A shirt covered him down past his manhood.

He’d think she was a witch if she told him she thought the storm’s fury could send her soul flying. She cleared her throat and blurted, “I don’t know why I went outside.”

He glared all the harder.

She started to get down from the chest.

“Stay!”

Crud. She wasn’t a blasted dog. “Don’t yell commands at me like I’m some hound sniffing at your footsteps.”

His face darkened. She had gone too far. As she thought about her options, it took only seconds to know she had none. His rule was law. He was a medieval man. She could not change that fact, though she didn’t have to like his boorishness.

“Well? I await yer reasons.” His tone lashed her.

“I had a frightening nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep. I love rainstorms, and figured the worst of the storm was leagues away. I went outside to watch it approach, but it came faster than I expected. I got scared and couldn’t move.

I’m thankful Nathaniel saw me.”

His scowl started to fade, and she could see he mulled over her answer. She’d better not linger too long, else he’d start picking holes in her story. She hopped off the chest, tripped on the corner of the blanket and landed on her hands and knees.

With a loud, huffed sigh, he hooked one arm around her

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waist and stood her on her feet. “Mayhap I insulted chickens.

Chickens have more dignity.”

The storm passed, leaving a soggy dawn. Throughout the day, Damron watched Brianna’s brooding face. The sooner she learned to be a proper wife, the easier it would be for her.

Eric sidled his steed close to Angel, who snapped at the other horse’s ears.

“I take my leave of you here. Ah, Damron. I envy you your pleasure in your wife. You had best be discreet, else sparks will fly should she learn of your leman.”

“Ye tempt me to rid ye of yer manhood, Eric.”

“Dinna think it. I would add to mine own family.” He raised his hand in farewell and waited until Brianna pulled alongside them. Quick as a fox snaring a chicken, he leaned over to grasp Brianna’s face in his big hands and, with a rogu-ish grin at Damron, kissed her on the lips.

Before Damron could react, Eric wheeled his mount and led his men at a hard gallop back down the path. His laughter floated above the pounding of the horse’s hooves.

“My lord, I seek a boon.”

Rollo, Eric’s cousin, pulled his warhorse close. His blond hair and blue eyes accented his Danish ancestry, the single trait they had in common.

“I ha’e planned to wed for some time, but the lass isna of my village. I must steal her away.”

Eric quirked his left brow. “Does the lady favor your suit?”

“She acts coy, but she will be content with her lot. After I have bedded her, she willna hesitate to wed.”

Eric frowned at this hint that mayhap the lass was not willing. E’en so, ’twas the way of their world. Women’s feelings were of no import, for they did not last. Once you showed

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them the way of it, they soon resigned themselves and were grateful.

“Begone, then, but dinna harm the lass.” As Rollo and his men rode off in a westerly direction, Eric rubbed his jaw and watched them till they rounded a bend out of sight.

Just as the sun started its descent, Damron’s scouts found an ideal spot to bide the night. The area was beautiful. The grass was so thick even a horse could walk quietly. Pines scented the air as sweet as a balsam forest in Maine.

Spencer led Brianna to a waterfall surrounded on all sides with dense pines, green oak and birch trees. The earth had formed the falls in four levels. Water cascaded from one plateau to the next, and the last was a flat shelf about twenty feet wide. From there the water filled a large natural basin.

After Spencer left, Brianna took her time to enjoy the beautiful setting as she undressed. The last of her clothing fell.

Throwing her head back, she inhaled and savored the pines’

scent, then stretched and studied the water. It was clear. She didn’t see any rocks or submerged debris. She dove into the pool and swam along the bottom.

What bliss to swim in such a lovely setting. She broke the surface to take a breath. Had something moved behind the falls? She dog paddled while squinting her nearsighted eyes, but decided it was her imagination.

Her body arched, and she again dove deep. Though the water was cold, it was refreshing. On the next stroke, she drew her arms back and headed for the surface. The water’s current changed, rippled up her back as she darted upward.

Something other than she had disturbed it.

Fear struck when hands circled her waist and pulled her deeper beneath the water. A man’s hard, muscular legs brushed against hers. She kicked and thrashed, and tried to

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break away. His hands gripped all the harder. Desperate for air, she pried at calloused fingers, tried to break his grip. Sunlight filtered through the water and revealed fawn-colored hair that swirled and merged with her own brown. He gave several strong kicks, and they sliced through the water toward the surface.

Brianna’s face broke free. She gasped and tried to scream.

He clasped a hand over her mouth and, holding tight to her, swam to the opposite bank. She fought as he pulled her from the water.

Another man came to throw a blanket over her. Before she could get her balance, they had secured it tightly around her.

She screamed as loud as she could. Someone lifted and threw her face down across hard thighs. An arm snaked around her waist.

“Blessed Lucifer, ye have smiled on me today,” a man exulted.

High above the camp, Cloud Dancer screeched. Damron, Bleddyn and the men ran hard. They burst from the forest in time to see horsemen disappear into the trees on the opposite side of the falls. When squires brought their mounts, they raced in hot pursuit.

As the distance closed between them, Damron shouted a battle cry. Bleddyn and Connor attacked the first two men while Damron streaked past. The third man swung his mount, trying to block his path. Damron’s sword whipped up and out.

Their weapons clashed. They were well matched. In one desperate swing, Damron found an opening beneath his opponent’s chin. Blood spurted, splattering Damron and speckling Angel’s white coat. Before the body toppled from the horse, Damron urged Angel to a gallop.

Cloud Dancer dove toward his target. Only the man’s swift reflexes kept the eagle’s talons from tearing the hood from his head and ripping into his scalp. He drew his double-edged dagger and grasped it upright.