Warprize (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards, 5)(MFMMMMMM) (10 page)

Finally he spoke.

"You must come away with
me."

Cedney closed her eyes and sighed
deeply. She might have known he would think he was in charge now.
When a man took a woman's maidenhead he considered her to be one of
his possessions. But in this case the man was mistaken. "No," she
said simply.

There was another lengthy pause. His
arms did not loosen their hold, but she noted the change in his
breathing. It became shallower, faster.She pressed her check to the
muscle of his upper chest and heard the steady, thrusting beat of
his heart.

"My place is here," she added. "It was
my father's wish."

"And what of
your
wishes?" he
snapped. "Are you to have none?"

She thought about this. Cedney was not
sure she'd ever had any of her own. Her life was one of duty. What
else was there?

"How do you expect to fool a wife?
What happens when—"

"I can please her in many ways. She
will be content. And when it is necessary to get her with child I
will hire a man for the job." Cedney raised her head to look at
him. His eyes were narrowed, his brow lined with annoyance.
"Perhaps you could stay and impregnate her for me." Since he
already knew her secret, it seemed a wise idea.

But his scowl deepened. "Get your wife
pregnant so you can continue this pretense and go on living as a
man?"

She tried to smile, although the idea
of seeing him fuck another woman again left her cold inside. "Why
not? What else do you have to do?"

He sat up and she slipped from his
body, falling onto her back. He glared down at her and shook his
head, his lips tight.

"I should like to have one of yours,"
she said as the thought of a child just like him came tumbling
through her mind again. Then she added hastily, "To raise it as
mine. Of course I could not give birth to it myself."

His lips snapped open to
impart the following angry comment. "A child is not an
it
. Especially not one
of mine."

Cedney rolled onto her side, propping
her head up on one hand, her elbow pressed into the straw-stuffed
mattress that was now dampened by the sport of their afternoon.
"Your son then. Or your daughter. I would be a good
father—"

"Nonsense." He swung his legs over the
edge of the bed and stood, stark naked and beautiful before her.
"You cannot be a father. You can only be a mother. Have you lived
this way so long that you forget the facts?"

She sighed again. "Mayhap."

"As I said before, you must leave this
place with me."

"And as I said
before,
no
. My
life is here. My destiny is here."

He began to pace, striding up and down
the side of her bed, arms folded over his broad chest. "This
masquerade is dangerous, and it cannot continue for
long."

"Why not? I have managed all these
years." She tried another smile and reached for him, purring, "Come
back to my bed and teach me some more about how to please Lady
Rosamund."

Halting abruptly he glowered down at
her, eyes sparking. "Temptress. I won't fuck you again until you
agree to leave with me. Tomorrow at first light."

She laughed sharply. How his manner
had changed toward her now that he'd bedded her! She might have
known that he would think this event altered her plans. "But
tomorrow I am to be married."

"Yes, to me."

It appeared to have come out of him so
suddenly that even he did not know it was there. The words hung
steamily in the air along with the scent of their fucking. "I will
not marry you," she said, as calmly as possible, sensing yet
another change in his mood. "I know almost nothing about you." She
saw the way his hands twitched and the muscle of his shoulders
bulked, as if he prepared to seize her from the bed, truss her up
in ropes and ride off with her. "Except that you have a wife," she
added angrily. "Or so you told me."

"My name is Dominigo d'Anzeray. I am
one of seven bastards born to the great warrior Guillaume. My
mother was Spaniard, my father is Norman. We live on our own
castellany, by our own rules, some hundred miles from here. Between
us we have four wives, whom we share."

"You
share
?"

"Of course. Why not? It keeps us safe
from the destructive effects of possessiveness or envy. It ensures
brotherly loyalty and makes us all fathers to the same
brood."

She stared. "And the women don't
protest?"

"Why would they? They get seven
husbands instead of one. They are protected seven times over and
loved seven times over. And satisfied seven times over."

She couldn't think of a solitary word
to utter.

"Our father expects each of us to
bring a woman home to breed. And I," he unfolded his arms and
pointed one suddenly menacing finger at her, "choose
you."

Cedney had never been so
horrified by anything in her life. She rolled over in haste and
almost fell to the floor on the far side of the bed. Somehow she
landed on her feet and tugged the fleece with her, wrapping it
swiftly around her naked body. "I'm afraid I must disappoint you. I
will never be any man's wife." She certainly would never be a wife
to seven men.
Seven men
.

He crooked that finger and beckoned
her closer. "Come here, woman."

Instead she backed away. "You have had
your sport. Now you must leave, d'Anzeray." When she spoke the name
on her own tongue it sounded familiar. It was possible she'd heard
tales of these men. Perhaps stories shared around a campfire when
the ale flowed. Stories too outrageous to be believed.

"I am not leaving without you," he
said firmly, unblinking.

"Oh yes, you are."

"For the last time, wench, come
hither."

"I will not. You,
d'Anzeray, will
go.
"

It did not escape her notice that his
cock was beginning to rise up again, already half erect. The man
was insatiable.

"And do not molest any more of my
people on your way out."

Chapter Ten

The woman, he thought
lustily, was possibly the most beautiful female he'd ever looked
upon. Indeed, the most beautiful
creature
. Her skin gleamed like
those pearls in the box she had shown him. Her eyes were the most
extraordinary shade of blue, ever changing. At that moment they
held a warm tint he'd only ever witnessed in the Mediterranean sea.
She tasted like wine, honey and cream. Some of his favorite
things.

And when she refused to obey him, he
grew hot with an even greater desire to claim her as his own. His
father would say it wasn't good to feel this possessive, but that
was a fleeting thought, soon squashed beneath other, happier
considerations.

She liked fucking. That much was
damned obvious. Bloody woman went at it keenly indeed for a
beginner.

She liked him or he would not be there
in her private chamber, invited to share her dark secret. That too
was evident.

He wanted her. Therefore he'd have
her.

Dom began moving around the bed toward
Cedney, but she leapt over it and backed up to the door of the
chamber, still clutching the fleece around her.

"Get out before I shout for the
guards," she hissed.

He stopped and held out
his arms, chuckling dourly. "What will you tell them? That I raped
you?
My lord
?"

She lifted her chin. "It is possible
for a man to be taken against his will, just as it is for a woman.
I could have you hanged."

"And I could tell them all the truth
about their lord."

She blinked, drew a quick breath. Her
fingers tightened around the fleece. "You won't."

"Won't I?" Dom had never seen her look
this vulnerable. Now he saw beneath her hardened shell and just
when he could have moved in, using it to his advantage, it made him
take pity. It made him hesitate. Again his father would laugh at
him for this little wrinkle of kindness and compassion.

She must have seen it too, must have
known he would not harm her.

"You may have that box of gold and
pearls," she said softly. "In return for your discretion, of
course. I know you are not Lady Rosamund's uncle and no doubt your
motives in bringing her here were not innocent, but I am willing to
overlook that. I don't know how you came to possess that scroll or
Redbeard's crest, and I don't want to know. It is best that you
leave now and there will be no questions asked."

Slowly he scratched an itch on his
chest and then drew his long fingers across the thin layer of
perspiration that coated the ridges of his chest. All the way down
to his cock.

Her gaze followed the gesture and she
licked her lips.

"Perhaps I don't need to leave until
morning," he suggested, stroking his growing organ.

Gradually her eyes shadowed, their
path tracking back upward to his face. "Do you think to persuade me
with these arts, d'Anzeray?"

He grinned. "It had occurred to me
that I might try."

* * * *

Thus the angry mood in the chamber was
transformed again. Cedney wanted to keep her distance, but she
could not. There was an awkward charm to the man, something
mysterious, mischievous. In those moments earlier when she lay in
his strong arms she was content as she had never been, but a part
of her had suffered tremendous guilt, remembering how she once
promised her father never to give in, never to forget that she was
his "son" and heir. To be a woman meant submitting to weakness. Or
so he had taught her.

But Cedney had not felt weakened by
her desires. In truth, when Dominigo looked at her that way she
felt a new kind of power. It lightened her spirit and made her
heart's rhythm quicken until she soared. Never had she known this
sensation before, even when racing her horse, flying over the
ground and aiming her arrow for the kill. Lying in his arms had
felt like...coming home after a long day's struggle, after a
battle.

Could she risk anything more with him?
Could they spend a night together without raising suspicion?
Without endangering her position there?

The answer came immediately. A
resounding "no".

There was a rumble of noise in the
passage outside, rapid steps and the clanking of metal. A fist
banged hard against the door at her back.

"My Lord Bloodwynne, there is trouble!
Norman soldiers are at the gate."

Across the room, Dominigo's expression
hardened again, his jaw squared, as if he was ready to protect her
from whatever might come. She shook her head at him. As if she
needed his protection! She'd managed seven years as her own man. "I
will come at once," she shouted through the door. "What is their
business here?"

"It is Rufus Barberousse, my lord,
found murdered in Foxhall market. And we can find no sign of the
man who claimed to be him. We have closed the gates so he will not
escape."

Cedney dropped her fleece and reached
for the discarded breeches. The footsteps retreated again and there
were more, distant shouts. Dominigo also dressed but with less
speed. He did not appear too worried about this
discovery.

"They will kill you if you are found,"
she whispered, fastening her belt. "Barberousse has many powerful
friends."

"
Had
," the man corrected, yawning
lazily.

Again she shook her head. "What
happened?"

Dominigo scratched the dark bristles
of his cheek. "We had a disagreement, he and I. In a tavern in the
town. He did not know enough to concede defeat and followed me into
an alley, intent on continuing the argument, but I was in no mood
for it."

"So you murdered him."

"He came at me with a sword. What else
was I to do?"

She tossed him his stolen cape. "Then
you took his place to escort Rosemund."

"When I read the scroll he carried, I
thought she might earn me a handy dowry or a ransom purse." He
grinned wryly. "Once I met the lady I decided neither was worth the
inconvenience of her company."

"And now you have brought this trouble
to my gate." Cedney ran to her window and looked out on the yard
where soldiers had gathered, including some she did not recognize.
They must have tracked Redbeard's murderer across the marshes with
their hounds, although it was no easy thing to do. A man could hide
in those fog-shrouded wet fields for months if he knew his way
around. "Pay heed, d'Anzeray, there is only one route out of the
manor now. You'll have to hide under the bed until I am rid of the
guards in the hall," she whispered, "and then I'll come back and
show you the way."

"I've no need to hide. I'll fight my
way out."

It occurred to her that this was not
hollow boasting; the man really thought he could take on so many
soldiers at once. But she did not want him dead, or badly wounded.
The fool! She should not care. She should let the man do as he
pleased. Another man would not try to stop him.