BindingPassion (2 page)

Philip made the last cut little more than a tap, then
dropped the switch and nodded to his men to release her. He rolled the breeks
up her hips, noting that she now lay quiet and only twitched occasionally.
Finally the rest of her bonds were released, and Sir Thomas tried to assist her
to stand. She pushed up off the bench, but suddenly went very pale and wavered.
Thomas caught her as she fell forward.

To spare her modesty, Philip quickly retied the laces on her
breeks, took her weight from Thomas and hoisted her into his arms. She was
lighter than he expected. He stood on the dais, holding “Martin” in his arms,
and announced to the gathered crowd that his crimes were forgiven. Philip
reminded them all he had no wish to be a tyrant or unduly harsh, but as he’d
just demonstrated, he would punish any wrongdoing brought to his attention.

Then he stepped down from the dais and walked over to where
his men stood with a tearful Ross and a few other members of the household.
Ross looked at the figure slumped in Philip’s arm.

“Is…Is she…I’m mean, he’s not…?”

“He’ll be fine,” Philip answered, glancing around at other
nearby members of the household who seemed anxious about the answer also. “He
was punished hard and he’s weak from the pain, but there’s no damage done and
he’ll recover soon enough.” He looked around again. “If someone will please
show the way, I’ll take him back to his quarters. And if you have a healer in
the household, I’d like the boy to have the attention.”

He heard the name “Brianne” mentioned and someone turned to
go find her. But no one stepped forward to guide him.

“Can no one show me to his quarters?”

The group looked at each other, doubt and indecision written
on all their faces. Finally Philip said, “Fine. Tell the healer to come to my
solar.”

Several of the group gasped. One said, “My lord!”

He turned to the speaker. “Aye?” The elderly woman looked as
confused as she did scandalized. Clearly most of the household knew as well as
he now did that the person he held wasn’t a boy. Philip also suspected this
“Martin” wasn’t just a servant, either, to be the object of so much
consternation.

Finally a woman made her way to his side. She was tall,
straight, in her middle to late thirties. “I’m Brianne, my lord,” she said.
“I’m told you were asking for my services.”

“Aye, madam. Can you show me the way to Master Martin’s
quarters?”

One of her eyebrows rose. “I don’t believe anyone knows the
location of Master Martin’s quarters. But I’ll take you to a solar we can use.”

“Your own?” he asked.

“Nay. A room that belonged once to one of the lord’s
family.”

Still holding the young woman, who stirred and moaned
softly, Philip followed Brianne along the same corridor where his own solar was
located. They passed his quarters, and Brianne opened a door two down on the
opposite side. “In here, my lord. We won’t be disturbed.”

He carried “Martin” into a large, comfortably furnished room
and set her down on a lavishly pillowed and curtained bed covered in satin and
lace throws. The young woman didn’t move or open her eyes. Philip put a hand on
her forehead, which felt a little cool from the sweat beaded on it. Studying
her, he wondered how he could ever have believed her to be a boy. The features
had a delicacy and grace one wouldn’t expect in a male. She was also older than
he’d realized. As a boy she’d looked fourteen or fifteen. As a female, she
appeared to be nearly out of her teens or maybe older.

He turned to look at Brianne and said, “Who is she?”

“You should know I can’t tell you, my lord,” Brianne said as
she went to her patient’s side. Philip watched her put a hand on “Martin’s”
throat and forehead. “Only she can explain it.”

“I’m your lord. I could order you to tell me.”

Brianne turned toward him. “Indeed you could. And would you
punish me as you did her should I decline to answer?”

“Perhaps.”

“I think not, my lord. In giving the answer you seek, I’d
break a promise made to someone else. You claim you will try to rule justly. Is
it justice to compel someone to break a promise given to another with threats
of punishment?”

“It might be, should I deem the matter of sufficient
importance.”

“And do you deem this such an instance, my lord?”

Philip stared at her, not liking the way she’d backed him
into a corner. “Nay, it’s not,” he said. “Not yet, anyway.” He sighed. “Had I
known…Will you tell me when she is able to talk to me?”

“I’ll send word, my lord.” Brianne stood up as he turned to
go. “My lord.”

Philip stopped and looked his question at her.

“It was a mistake,” Brianne said, “but not yours, and not so
bad a one as you might think.”

“I hope you’re right. Where might I find Ross’s quarters?”

“He bunks in the young men’s quarters near the barn. He
won’t tell you what you want to know either.”

“Are you sure?” Philip asked, pleased she’d left him an
opening for a bit of retaliation.

“He made the same promise. Ross is not clever, but he’s
loyal.”

“But you assume I mean to ask him the same question I asked
you,” Philip said. “All I desire to know from Ross at the moment is whether
he’s in unbearable discomfort.”

For a moment Brianne frowned, then her lips crooked into a
half-smile. “My lord. Thank you.”

Philip nodded and went to find Ross. After some searching,
he located the boy in Derwyn’s quarters. Evidently Derwyn had concluded the
youngster needed more privacy than he’d get in the communal young men’s
barracks. The two seemed to have developed some friendship in the short time of
their acquaintance. When Philip entered the room, the boy cowered back against
Derwyn.

“You need have no fear of me,” Philip told the boy. “You’ve
had your punishment. Unless you cross me again, they’ll be no more.” The words
didn’t seem to mollify Ross very much.

“I came to see if you were in need of anything. If you were
in too much discomfort.”

The boy stared back at him. He didn’t appear to be in any
great pain, but Philip looked at Derwyn for confirmation.

“He’s well enough, my lord,” Derwyn said. “No more than a
slight bruise or two. I put some liniment on them and already the pain is near
to gone. Is that not so, Ross?”

“Aye, Master Derwyn. “ The boy looked up at Philip. “How is
she?” He heard the error and colored. “Martin, I mean. How is he?”

“You needn’t continue the deception, Master Ross,” Philip
said. “I know already that ‘Martin’ isn’t a ‘he’.”

The boy nodded but said no more.

“She’ll be well enough. Mistress Brianne is with her and
assures me she’s in no danger. She’ll sleep for a while yet, though.”

Philip left them shortly and went back to the chamber where
he’d left “Martin.” Brianne answered his knock and came out into the hall,
shutting the door behind her.

“How is she?” Philip asked.

“You needn’t worry, my lord. She’ll be sore for some time
but no worse. ‘Twas an artfully delivered whipping. Many welts raised but only
two broke the flesh and those only lightly. She’ll sit on pillows for a few
days and not move comfortably for a while but will carry no scars.”

“That was my intention.”

Brianne nodded. “I’ll send word when she can speak with
you.”

Philip accepted the dismissal and went about his business
for the rest of the day. He didn’t receive the summons until the next morning.

She had evidently been informed of his awareness of her sex.
Dressed as a young woman now, “Martin” sat on a chaise, supported on a
goose-down pillow, wrapped in a very feminine robe when he arrived. She made no
effort to rise.

“Come in, my lord,” she said, when he hesitated. “Please
take a seat and forgive me if I don’t give you due courtesy.” Her words held an
edge of mild irony. The throaty voice was Martin’s but lighter, without the
effort to deepen it into a more masculine sound.

“Forgiven,” he said, seating himself in the only other chair
in the room, a hard-backed, hard-seated affair that faced the lounge. “How fare
you?”

“You’ve a heavy hand with the switch, my lord,” she said.
“Brianne tells me that my derriere is nicely marked up.”

“And she tells
me
‘twill heal quickly, leaving no
mark behind.” He looked at her, taking in the light brown hair and peculiar
bronze-flecked green eyes that burned with some hidden emotion. He let his eyes
wander further afield and wondered again how he could have failed to realize
her sex. Her breasts were not over-large but softly rounded and undoubtedly
feminine. Her hips, too, curved sweetly. His body began to react, fueled by the
memory of the lovely curves of her derriere and the enticing glimpse of
feminine secrets he’d been afforded. To distract himself, he said, “Had you
admitted to your sex sooner, the punishment would have been less severe.”

“You would still have whipped me in front of the household?”

“Aye, but perhaps not in quite the same way.” She had a fascinating
face. Not beautiful, but pretty, with clear skin, perhaps a little paler than
normal, straight nose, and dark brows arched over the large green eyes. Her
lips were soft pink, ripe for kissing. It wasn’t just the prettiness of her
features that made her so appealing, though. Strength, intelligence, and
character showed in the firm set of her mouth and the way she met his eyes so
directly.

“Who are you?” he asked.

She watched him for a moment without speaking. Behind the
expressionless eyes, she was thinking and calculating. He wondered why the
answer required so much thought, then wondered how likely it was anything she
said would hold any truth.

“I’m Lady Mary Alderwood,” she answered.

“Alderwood?”

“The late baron was my brother.”

“Sir William’s man?” He couldn’t keep the derision out of
his tone.

“No!” Her outrage equaled his own. “The man Sir William
murdered to take this keep. My father held the title before him. Sir William’s
man”—the way she said it made him nearly wince away from the malevolence of her
tone—”did not remain here long.”

“Ah,” Philip said. That answered a number of questions
raised yesterday. “And may I conclude your attempt at disguise owed something
to the treatment you received or feared to receive from your brother’s
replacements?”

“Conclude as you will, my lord.”

“And while I’m doing so, I believe I’ll also conclude that
your campaign against me was an attempt to bring about my departure as quickly
as my immediate predecessor’s.”

“Nay, my lord. More quickly yet.”

Philip watched her and read fear beneath her anger. Fear
that might drive her to continue her campaign despite the risks. “I intend to
settle here and make this my home, despite all efforts of affronted former
ladies of the manor. I strongly advise against any further attempts to
intimidate or drive me from here.”

“You’ve made your feelings clear, my lord.”

“And my willingness to act on those feelings?”

“Equally clear,” she answered, her tone hard and defensive.

“Good. Then we need dwell on it no longer. There are other things
we must discuss. What to do about you now, among other things.”

Alarm showed clearly in her green eyes. “What to do about
me?”

“Why are you not wed and raising a family, lady?” he asked.
“You’re surely of sufficient years.”

“And beyond, my lord. I’m two and twenty.”

“And not even betrothed? A lady as comely as you, I can
scarce imagine you haven’t suitors calling constantly.”

“Nay. Not at present. I have been betrothed…twice. The first
suitor died before ever he got to the wedding. The second’s family was offered
a proposal they found more satisfactory. Then my mother and father died, and
before another betrothal could be worked out, my brother was under siege here.
You know the rest.”

“Anyone who thought to find a more satisfactory match than
you would have to be a fool. So what do we now, lady? If you stay here with me,
an unmarried man, for any time, your reputation will suffer.”

“I have no reputation to suffer, my lord.” She looked at
him, shifted, and grimaced. “Most of the world believes me safely ensconced in
the convent of the Sisters of St. Benedict.”

“The household knows you’re here and hiding behind the
identity of Martin Fisher.”

“Aye, but they won’t betray me.”

Philip shrugged neither confirming nor denying. “What do you
want, Lady Mary? What future do you seek?”

“Peace,” she said. “A quiet, ordinary life.”

“You’d do well to fly to that convent, then,” he suggested.

“Nay, I want freedom as well. And I feel no call to the
contemplative life.”

“To what life are you called?”

“I was trained to be the lady of a manor. To run a
household, organize supplies, supervise servants, keep the books. To…” She
flushed a becoming pink.

Philip could guess what she would meant, but wanted to hear
her say the words anyway. “My lady?”

“To be a helpmeet to a husband and mother to children.”

Philip thought about it. “Have you any dower, lady?”

She laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “You’ve put your finger
neatly on the problem, my lord. I have none. And no relatives to provide any.”

Philip nodded and sighed. “I would help you if I could. But
my own personal resources are slight. I’m a younger son with a vigorous father
and brothers, whom I love and to whom I wish naught but good health and long
life. All my hopes are entailed in this estate.”

He clasped his hands together and studied them while he
considered what he might do. “As a lady of the manor, trained in its
management, I presume you should know: could the estate afford you a dowry?”

Her smile was sad and a little bitter. “As of now, only the
land itself could dower me,” she answered. “Sir Benwyck, your predecessor, took
all of value he could lay hands on before taking his own departure.” Her sudden
smile still held bitterness, but some real amusement too, and it lit her green
eyes with an enchanting light. “That was perhaps the most valuable thing of all
he took, and to our benefit.”

“Benwyck of Cryll?” Philip asked.

Her face darkened. “You know him. Be you friend to him?”

“Not at all,” Philip answered. “Perhaps you’ll be heartened
to know Sir Benwyck no longer inhabits this earth. He was among those killed
when we defeated Sir William de Railles.”

She breathed out a long sigh, and her expression changed
from anger to satisfaction. “The church teaches we should not rejoice or be
glad in the misfortunes of others, even those we name enemy, and I understand
the rightness in that. Nonetheless, I can’t help but feel some relief to know
this world is rid of him. I leave him to God’s mercy, did he earn any of it.”

“Little enough, I should imagine, if the stories I’ve heard
of him be true.”

“Some of them, I can personally attest, are.”

What Philip heard in her voice made him believe she had
suffered something very bad at Benwyck’s hands, and it filled him with a sudden
spurt of rage on her behalf. He almost laughed at himself and wanted to bang
himself over the head at the same time. She’d had no gentle treatment from him,
either. He moved to touch her hand, a gesture of sympathy, and she flinched
back, away from the contact.

He could scarce blame her. He watched her and felt sympathy
for her difficulties and a surprising desire to improve her situation. He
wanted to protect and shelter her, if he could. He wanted to see her green eyes
lit with laughter, her beautifully shaped lips form into a smile for him.
Something inside him responded to her. And with that came a thought, the
beginnings of a plan.

“Lady Mary,” he said, ignoring the shadow of doubt and
distrust in her eyes. “Think you this estate could be brought to prosperity
again, with proper guidance and management?”

A glimmer of curiosity drove out some of the distrust from
her expression. “Aye, my lord. I’m quite sure it could. The land is rich and
the people industrious. ‘Twas prosperous enough under my parents’ management.”

“Then would you be willing to assist me in restoring it to
that condition?”

For the first time she met his eyes directly, assessing him,
but with somewhat less suspicion and hostility. Surprise showed in her
expression and some doubt. “You would want…?”

“Your help. Aye.”

She continued to stare at him, with increasing distress.
“But why would you ask my assistance, my lord? Since your arrival I’ve done
naught but try to make your life a misery.”

“And in some measure succeeded,” he admitted. “But then I’ve
answered that as effectively as I know how.”

This time she flushed a bright red. He watched in
fascination as the color rose along her throat and into her cheeks.

“You need not my assistance in restoring this keep to
prosperity. I’ve no doubt you’re capable of doing so on your own.”

“I’ve no doubt of it, either,” Philip lied. “But your
assistance would ease the way considerably. You know the land and the people.
The people know and respect you.”

She drew a deep breath. “They did at one time respect me. I
know not if I still have that.”

“You do. I can promise you. But it brings us back to the
question of an unmarried lord and lady sharing a manor with no chaperone.” He
stunned himself almost as much he did her when he leaned forward and asked,
“Lady Mary Alderwood, will you do me the considerable honor of becoming my
wife?”