Risk Everything (20 page)

“Beat me. Go ahead,” she taunted him. Her fists pounded on his chest with each word. “ ’Tis better to take a thrashin’

than be made a whore afore all the world.”

“My leman,” he bellowed. “Not a whore. None would dare call ye such.”

“Nay. Not to
yer
face,” she shouted. His hands slackened.

She pulled from his grasp and clasped the robe close around herself. “Nonetheless, ’tis a whore I would be.”

She stepped back, away from his scent of spice and sandalwood that played havoc with her heart and mind.

Both were locked in a war stance, neither willing to give in. She meant what she had said. Why did he not accept it?

As he studied her, Rolf read her determination, for his eyes narrowed. Finally, he nodded. His shoulders relaxed as he stepped back.

“We will handfast,” he offered.

Her gaze searched his eyes, his face.

With arms crossed and legs spread wide, he nodded at her.

“We will pledge to each other this—” he stopped as a shout interrupted him.

“You canna.” Alpin surged from his seat and stormed over to them. He grabbed Rolf ’s shoulder.

“Hold your tongue.” Rolf glared at the fingers gripping his shoulder, then back at his friend. His eyes narrowed. “Remove your hand.” As Alpin’s hand dropped, Rolf ’s steely eyes blazed at Ede, Garith, Dougald, and Jamie, who had jumped up from the high table. His warning was clear. Keep silent.

Garith, about to protest, sucked in a breath and parted his lips.

“You will abide by my words, else seek your room.” Rolf glared at the young man, then gestured to the doorway.

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Garith clutched Ugsome’s ruff in his hand and plopped down on his stool. Silent.

Rolf ’s attention returned to Meghan. Her eyes studied him, probed into his soul to find her answers there. He nodded, forced his face to a gentler expression, and continued as if he had never been interrupted. “We will pledge to each other this evenin’ and begin life anew.”

She did not respond, but he sensed a softening in her stance. “I want you, Meghan. Though you fight against it, you canna gainsay this thing that lies between us.”

She started to counter with a denial.

He held up his hand to bid her to silence. “Nay, lass. ’Tis there and well you know it.”

Meghan lifted her hands and shrugged, implying her own puzzlement. His hands darted to pull her cloak about her as it started to slip and reveal again what he wanted no other man to gaze upon.

“Ye agree to handfast with me?” Meghan’s face could not hide the disbelief her mind fed her.

“Aye.”

“Ye are not plannin’ to deceive me on this?” She frowned at him as she mulled it over. “A year and a day I will be as yer wife? If at the end of that year ye dinna want a weddin’, what then, Rolf ?”

When he did not answer, she continued. “If ye refuse to wed me then, the child will stay with me?” She lifted her chin and dared him to defy the unwritten rule.

“Aye. ’Tis the way to resolve a broken proper handfast.”

His voice slowed on the word
proper
. “You canna pledge yourself in this clothin’.” Meghan bit her lip and frowned. He lowered his voice and added, “Please. Go above.” Her eyes opened wide. His voice gentled. “When you return, all will be done aright.” He turned her toward the door.

She peered over her shoulder at him. He watched entranced at the changes that fell over her face. Her forehead smoothed.

Large sea-green eyes no longer glared at him but glowed with shy warmth. Slowly, her cheeks and jaw relaxed. Warm, full

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lips were the last to surrender. They softened and lifted at the corners. All her icy scorn, her hot anger, her stubborn defiance seemed to melt away.

Meghan looked . . . vulnerable.

Never had he thought to see this proud lass with her guard down. Pangs of guilt ripped their sharp claws through the vengeance guarding his heart, leaving hurtful, gaping rents.

Though it near felled him to do so, he must have his way.

Pandemonium broke out after she disappeared up the stairwell.

“Eneuch!” His stare raked over the people there. His order brought the tumult to a quieter din. He strode over to the high table and spoke to no one in particular. “Hear me well. Dinna argue with me on this.”

“But, Rolf ”—Garith’s eyes looked puzzled—“ ’tis not a knightly thing you propose.”

“ ’Tis more knightly than for the lass to believe herself a whore.”

“Is it, now? What will she deem herself later?” Alpin’s face still showed his anger.

Rolf did not answer but turned instead to Ede. He steeled himself against her accusing eyes. “You will not interfere.”

“What you do is wrong.” She jumped up from her bench.

Ugsome growled at her, and she scowled at him and raised her hand flat out over the table and slapped it. “Be quiet, beast.” Ugsome settled at her feet. Ede’s eyes grew round with surprise.

Rolf glared at her. “You will keep your thoughts to yourself. Was your husband still with us, he would tell you ’tis none of your affair. You will abide by my will.” His voice softened. “Go above and help Meghan, but keep your tongue behind your teeth.” He frowned and scowled around him.

Dougald had not spoken a word. He had no need. His thoughts were there in his eyes, plain for Rolf to see.

Disappointment.

* * *

Sophia Johnson

Meghan stood in the bedchamber, uncertain, and glanced around. Never would she be Rolf ’s leman. But to handfast with a man was honorable. For the lack of a priest, couples often practiced it. She frowned. Father Mark was within the castle. Why did Rolf not want a proper marriage? Slowly, her frown eased. Nay. He was right. ’Twas better this way. If wed by a priest, they would be sealed together through eternity.

This way, if they couldna resolve their differences, either could reject the other with no dishonor to her or their child, should she prove fertile. He had agreed that by proper custom, should he not marry her, the child would stay with her.

Her spirits lifted. The door opened, and she was pleased to see Ede. The sweet woman was fast becoming like a member of her own family.

“I am sorry I ruined the beautiful work ye did on my hair, Ede.” Meghan made a face and lifted her hands to shake her long hair. Bits and pieces of rushes mixed with heather, crushed rose petals, and rosemary floated to the floor. “Mayhap we should leave it loose?”

“Your hair is beautiful.” Ede’s soft smile looked forced. “I am sure Rolf prefers it thus.”

Meghan nodded. What was the matter with her? She never blushed, but now her face was fiery hot as she remembered Rolf once whispering how he longed to feel her hair on his naked loins. ’Twas disgraceful. She had blackened his eye for saying it.

“Come. Remove the girdle so we can redress you.” Ede stood, the green tunic held aloft, awaiting Meghan’s arms.

In but a short time, they again dressed Meghan as a noble woman should be. Fastening the girdle around her hips, she wondered why Ede seemed reluctant to meet her gaze.

“Do ye dislike the Morgans of Blackthorn so much ye dinna want me as a member of yer family?” Meghan studied Ede, for the woman puzzled her. Before this, she had been open and far friendlier than she could expect.

“Oh, nay,” Ede hastened to reply. “You are a most welcome addition to the castle. ’Tis more honor you hold in your hands

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than most men have in their massive bodies.” She reached out to hug Meghan to her. “Ne’er would I not want you as part of my family, as my friend.”

“Ah, such a pleasant feelin’,” Meghan murmured against Ede’s neck. “I have missed the comfort of arms about me.”

“If ever you should need me, I will be here for you.” Ede released Meghan and stepped back. “Now, I will comb the twigs from your hair. You will be the most beautiful lass ever to walk down those stairs.”

Finally, she felt Ede give the last pat to her hair at the same time they heard Jamie outside the door. Why did she feel so twittery? Uneasy? ’Twas not that she was afeared of what happened between a man and woman. She had learned at an early age about those matters, for other than her Aunt Phillipa, the other members of her family were men.

Blackthorn had many happy lasses who sought her brother and cousins for their favors. Their
more than ample
favors, she had learned. In their early manhood, they had been too eager to be discreet. After she tripped over Connor’s legs one dark night, she placed a well-aimed kick at his bare arse. The happy lass he was with shrieked with pleasure. He groaned.

Whether from pleasure or not, she wasna sure.

Meghan chuckled at the memory. Had she been so occupied with her memory she did not realize they had entered the doorway of the great hall? Rolf ’s head was cocked to the side, listening, his eyes heated. Noticing everyone looked at her, she put a hand over her lips to quiet her nervous laughter.

Connor had oft said it was much like his own. Deep and throaty. For the first time, she was conscious of it. Embarrassed, even.

“Ah, ’tis the first I have heard you laugh in many years, lass.” Rolf ’s voice was a husky purr close to her ear. “Were you in a room with as many people as leaves in a forest, I would know you there with but a single laugh.”

She hesitated. Unsure. Why? Never before had she been beset by such foolish women’s notions. She took the arm he held out to lead her to the high table. When they reached it,

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servants bustled about bringing in steaming platters of food.

They had awaited their meal for her? ’Twas an unexpected courtesy.

Everyone watched her. Some seemed open and friendly enough, while distrust radiated from others, fear from a few, and some merely looked curious. One could expect that with people who knew nothing about her but what they learned from hearsay.

Garith was silent and seemed to need comfort from Ugsome. Alpin looked as if he had swallowed a foul brew. His pale blue eyes darted ice slivers at her. If he pressed his lips any tighter, they would disappear. How had she pricked his anger? What worried her most were the intercepted looks of what suspiciously looked like pity from Dougald. Why pity?

’Twas not dishonorable to handfast. Uneasiness crept up her back.

Rolf was attentive, but she sensed tension he tried hard to conceal. It matched her own. If she had her way, they would dispense with the food and get on with the pledgin’.

“I ken you prefer your wine not be watered?” Rolf offered her the goblet they would share. He waited for her to take a hearty sip, then drank himself.

“ ’Tis good. Not bitter or sour.” Lucifer’s toes. She sounded like a fool making small talk with someone she hardly knew.

’Twas not far from the mark, for this Rolf who had captured her was as a stranger.

This eve he looked more like the Rolf she remembered. No doubt he had taken great pains with his person to remind her of how he once was. But the bitter lines beside his lips could not be smoothed with soap and the scraping off of his whiskers. Nor could he sit for long afore his forehead creased in a frown. More and more, she felt as if she should dash for the door.

“Why do you study me? Am I not the same man you have known since you were a skinny sprite?” His mocking voice startled her.

“Nay. Ye are not.” She shook her head and frowned as she

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studied his eyes. “ ’Tis not age that marks ye. Nor battle scars.

Though the white slash through your right brow is new to me.” She quirked a brow at him, and her lips twitched. “Did ye mayhap forget to duck?”

Rolf shifted in his seat, looking ill at ease. A memory flashed through Meghan’s mind. “Aye! Ye did.” She burst into laughter. “Now I remember.” She grinned at him. “Ye should have kenned better than to dally with Meridene de Anjou while Henri yet lived. Aunt Phillipa didna take kindly to ye cuckolding her brother.”

She took a long swallow of wine as she watched his face turn from pink to bright red.

“Tell me”—she leaned close and whispered—“did Aunt for truth strike your bare arse with the flat of a sword as ye made a dash for the door?” At his shocked look, she giggled.

“ ’Tis the reason ye hit yer head on the door’s opening, is it not?”

“How came you by such a tale? You shouldna be privy to such happenings,” he blustered.

“Ha. No tale. ’Tis truth.” She poked his hard-as-rock arm.

“Connor and Damron came to visit me at that desolate abbey Damron forced me to when ye betrayed me after the feast.

They told me of it.” The memory of her miserable summer made her scowl at him.

He shifted in his seat and shoved the wine back close to her hand. She took another sip.

“Mayhap had they confined you for a longer period, suitors aplenty would have bid for your hand when you returned.

Had they found you changed to a gentlewoman, you would long ago have bairns clinging to your skirts.”

His words were splashes of ice pelting her. She narrowed her eyes, then turned away. What knew he of her suitors?

Plenty had come to bid for her hand. A poor lot they were too.

Why, she had bested most of them at the quintain. She was more adept than many with a blade, a bow and arrow, and even throwing her dirk. No. He knew nothing of her suitors.

“I had suitors aplenty.” Angry now, she turned back to him.

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“Aye? Why then are you not wed?” he mocked her.

“I didna
want
a nithing of a man.” She glared at him and hit her fist on the table, almost upsetting the wine. “All were weak in some way. None strong enough to be a fitting husband to me.”

He said nothing. His eyes deepened to smokey slate as he studied her face.

“Aye. No weakling could control you. You will not find me so easy, Meghan.” He drew out her name slowly, softly. “You are like a wild stallion that must needs be, hmm, tamed, by a firm hand.”

Each time Rolf had brushed against her, she felt his tension mount. His body tightened, seemed ever more firm. His breathing became rapid, and she sensed his need building to a pitch.