Warrior's Deception (12 page)

Lenora almost choked. Her father’s voice sounded livelier with a touch of amusement. “Well, I am sure that is true, but—”

“But nothing. Since I stepped foot in this castle I have been nothing but insulted.” A dangerous red color began to spread up his neck.

“Sir Galliard, rest easy.” Sir Edmund tried to smooth the knight’s ruffled temper. “I only say my daughter has these fears, not that they are warranted. So, you say you have a wellcontrolled manner.”

“Of course.”

“And you would never strike out in anger at a defenseless soul?”

“Of course not.”

“And you would swear to this, no doubt.”

“Of course,” Roen growled.

Sir Edmund patted his daughter’s hand, so small on top of the larger callused hand of the warrior. “There, my dear, does that not calm your nerves? The man has sworn not to strike you in anger. All is settled.”

Lenora saw the results of her father’s verbal victory. Color washed his face, his eyes regained some of their old merriment. Perhaps there was a chance her father would recover as he had before. Somehow she needed to stall for more time.

Her mind raced while she created and discarded plans. The vow stood in the way. No matter the outcome, she had promised to marry Galliard and could see no way around it. She couldn’t break her bond.

Suddenly, a dazzling smile spread across her full lips. “Aye, Father, you are right, Sir Galliard is a strong man. It comforts me to know I have his word not to strike me in anger, but what of the other ladies?”

“I have not ever nor do I plan to hit a woman. A man who loses his temper so does not deserve any graces of God.” Roen eyed Lenora with forewarning. “Though a spanking might be in order for some.”

“So, ‘tis your word, which you lay at my ailing father’s bed, that should you strike me in anger, you deserve no reward.”

“Aye,” Roen answered with hesitation.

A plan so deliciously simple unfolded in Lenora’s head as Roen uttered his agreement. ‘Twas sure to buy her enough time for her father to improve in health and keep Galliard from her bed. A voice of self-preservation cautioned in her head,
May the saints help me if my father or Galliard discovers my plans.
Somehow Lenora knew Galliard’s anger would be the worse of the two.

“W
here is she?” Roen’s voice thundered down the long halls of the keep. He emerged from his room, his skin wet and bright red, wrapped in nothing but a ragged strip of linen. The soaked material molded the knight’s anatomy like a second skin. “By all the holy saints above, I will throttle the girl,” he promised as he scraped back the heavy wet hair from his eyes.

Servants squeezed themselves against the wall of the foyer to elude Roen’s frantic search. Feminine laughter tittered from behind a door on the left. He threw open the oak door with such force it banged against the wall and bounced back on the hinges. A tremendous echo added to the mayhem already in the hall.

“Saints be praised!” Matilda gasped when Roen’s nearly bare body intruded into the sewing room. “Sir Galliard, a bit of decorum if you will. There are impressionable ladies in this room. Beatrice and Charmain, avert your eyes.” Beatrice needed no warning; she already hid her face behind the shirt she was sewing. Not as shy, Charmain’s turquoise eyes roved down the slick, powerful body. Her gaze lingered on the deeply sculpted thighs that emerged from beneath Roen’s wrap. She gave him a seductive smile. By the look in her eye, Roen could tell the numerous battle scars on his body were not distasteful to her. Why hadn’t this girl assisted him with his bath instead of that half-blind old nag?

“Roen! What has come over you?” Hamlin came up behind his friend. With swords drawn, the men of Roen’s elite group stood ready to defend him. Hamlin hunted for an enemy. “By the noise you were making we thought you must be
under attack.” He caught the sultry smile Charmain gave Roen, then added, “Or perchance ‘tis an attack you’re looking for. Though I think you could be a bit more discreet. Interesting skin color, Roen. Is this a new bit of camouflage?”

“Your skin would be red, too, if you had nearly been boiled alive. Where is your niece?” Roen demanded of Matilda, ignoring Hamlin. The flustered woman fanned herself with her hand vigorously.

“Please, sir, I cannot speak to you in such a state. Kindly complete your attire and then I will hear your grievance.” Matilda bent her head and brought her needlework very close to her face. Her fingers shook, and she was unable to make a stitch.

“Come, Roen, you are disturbing the ladies’ sewing,” Hamlin coaxed from the doorway.

“Damn women and their pettiness.” Roen tightened the towel around his hips and exited. He trod on Hamlin’s toes as he slammed the door shut. “Women. Were there but a way to obtain an heir without them, I would do so readily. The day that God created Eve was the last day of man’s peace of mind,” Roen declared on his way back to his chambers.

Hamlin followed his friend with his hand over his mouth. A small chuckle escaped his lips when they entered their chamber. The smack of a wet towel across his face silenced his amusement.

“Heaven’s sake, Roen. Did you intend to bathe the entire room?” Hamlin scanned the puddles of soapy water littering the floor. Two wooden pails lay tipped on their sides near the large wooden tub. Roen splashed barefoot across the puddles, sending sprays of water onto Hamlin’s leather boots.

“I swear when I get my hands on her I’m going to shake the very life from that long-legged body.” Roen tied on his braes and reached for his leather garters.

“Who? And why are you so angry?” Hamlin tossed aside the wet towel and sought a dry place to stand.

“Who? Why?” Roen finished cross-binding his hose. Hamlin tossed him the unadorned brown woolen tunic, which lay across the back of Roen’s clothing chest. The rounded neckline muffled his reply. The still-damp head emerged with a stupefied expression. “Nora, that’s who and why. The witch tried
to boil me in my bath. I’m surprised I don’t have blisters on my behind from the scalding she gave me.” Roen rolled up the sleeves of his tunic past his elbows, then tied a leather belt around his waist.

“I see no blisters, and aside from your bright color, no damage. Besides, ‘twas not she I saw enter our room with the pails. The hag made a simple mistake.”

“Bah. I’d wager my fortune that Nora had something to do with that mistake.” Roen slid a golden-handled dagger into his belt.

“Perhaps you are just feeling guilty.”

Roen turned on Hamlin. “Me, guilty? For what? I’m sacrificing my entire future to save the woman. What thanks do I get except to be cooked like some shellfish?”

“I suppose your constant snide remarks and blackmail are no excuse. Besides, I heard you swear to Sir Edmund you would never beat the girl in anger,” Hamlin pointed out.

Roen placed his hand on the iron door pull. ‘I’ll give your words some leave, Hamlin. I won’t throttle her, but a spanking is still not out of the question.”

Lenora leaned against the oak tree by the stables holding her aching sides. Peals of laughter rang from her lips while she bundled up the patched kirtle and apron. Galliard was certainly red-hot when she had left him. He never even suspected ‘twas she behind the rags and dirt.

A lively tune bubbled from her lips. She pulled the scarf from her head and nodded merrily to the stableboy at the doorway of the barn. After she stashed the old clothes in the corner of Silver’s stall, she cupped some water from the pail to splash over her face. It felt cool and refreshing and left her skin clean of the ashes she had rubbed onto her face.

A self-satisfied smirk emerged on her lips. She contrasted the wonderful cool temperature of the water in the barn with the steaming heat of the water she had prepared for Roen’s bath. Of all her schemes, this one was the most devious. ‘Twas going to be painfully easy to drive Galliard to strike her in anger. Like stealing a sweet from an infant. Lenora collapsed backward into the soft hay, her arms and legs akimbo.

The image of Galliard’s cardinal red skin made her tingle with merriment. Her thoughts twisted from mischief to curiosity. She’d only managed a glance at the knight’s broad back and powerful chest. The mystery of what lay beneath the soapfilmed water turned the tingle of her skin to a deep ember of heat. If she had just waited before pouring the hot water she might have really seen for the first time what a naked man looked like.

“Lenora.” Beatrice flew into the stable. “You must hide. Sir Galliard is in a terrible temper and I fear ‘tis you he’s angry with.” Her cousin peeked over the stall door. “Lenora, please. You must take this seriously. He burst into the sewing room practically—” Beatrice’s eyes widened and she choked out the rest “—naked, and demanded Mother tell him where you were.”

“Naked!” Lenora sputtered from her laughter. “My, that must have been a sight.”

“Lenora, what have you done? ‘Tis not good to make a man like him angry,” Beatrice warned in a grave voice.

“Tis more important not to make a woman like me angry. That pompous knight needs to learn that lesson, also.” Lenora rolled around in the hay like a puppy. Silver and the colt observed their mistress’s strange behavior. The mare plodded over and nudged Lenora with her nose as though to tell the young lady to control herself. Lenora’s response was delighted laughter.

Tyrus ran into the stable so quickly he careered into Beatrice before he could stop. “Sorry, Lady Beatrice, but ye told me to come ‘n fetch ye if’n he was a-headin’ this a-way. An’ he’s a-headin’ this-a-way.” Tyrus spoke so fast Lenora could barely make out the words. The lad craned his head to look behind him. “He’s a-comin’ fast, Lady Lenora. Ye best be disappearin’ cause—”

Roen strode into the barn, past the boy and Beatrice. Hamlin followed right behind him.

“He’s here,” Tyrus finished his sentence in a whisper.

Roen surveyed the guilty looks of Beatrice and the boy. “Where is she? Don’t even think about lying for her. I want the truth,” his voice blasted in anger.

“Lying? You accuse them of a crime before they utter a breath.” Lenora rose from the hay in one languid motion and gave Silver a pat on the muzzle. Just to irritate the man even more, she sauntered over to the gate. She placed her arms on the top rail, leaned her chin on her hands and gave the furious knight a beguiling smile. “Why should they lie to you? Whom do you seek in such a fit of temper?”

“Nora, I am tired of your endless prattle. ‘Twill cease now.” His voice would have singed her eyebrows if it had been a flame.

The shouts issuing from the barn began to draw a crowd. Alric, Landrick and several others from Roen’s group gathered near the barn to hear the exchange. The men buffeted one another about to hear their leader chastise Lenora.

“That’s tellin’ her, Roen.” Alric urged his commander on. “Put the wench where she belongs.”

“In a bed and on her back,” another of Roen’s men added. The male laughter grated on Lenora’s ears.

She slipped through the wooden poles of the stall gate and noted Roen’s face, his clamped jaw and fixed eyes. He teetered on the edge of control. One little push and he would fall into her plan.

“My name is not Nora and my prattle, as you call it, will never cease.” Lenora made her voice as insolent as possible and arched her brow in a knowing way. “If ‘tis a silent woman you want, you’ll not find it in me. I am most vocal about your shortcomings, of which there are many. Though ‘tis no surprise. Just to be a man means you’ve a shortcoming.”

She took in her audience and struck where it would do the most harm. Men always had one weakness and she intended to capitalize on it. Although she hadn’t been able to see exactly what endowments Roen possessed, men were usually sensitive on the subject of their virility. “Aye, there’s some that saymind you, ‘tis only servant women—that you’ve a mighty short shortcoming.”

The crowd silenced and stared at the warrior and girl. Lenora tilted her chin to an arrogant angle. Roen’s hands worked open and closed. They settled into two deadly fists. One blow might kill her but she would risk it for the possibility of freedom.
If Roen left in disgrace or in anger, both she and Beatrice would be safe from the greedy knave.

“Come, brave knight,” she harassed. “Have you something you wish to say? Nay! It surprises me when you are usually so outspoken. Though even then ‘tis not much said of real importance. But then every man cannot be an intelligent speaker. Faith, ‘tis a miracle that most can even speak at all.”

“Woman, get you from me if you value your life.” Roen’s fist lifted. He would silence that dagger tongue once and for all. What had he said about a spanking? She needed a good beating. He took a menacing step forward. Lenora stood her ground, a pleased smile on her lips. Roen drew back his fist.

“Nay, Roen, do not do it,” Hamlin warned.

Still Lenora did not flinch. Roen could see her body tense for the blow. He looked into her eyes. Instead of liquid gold, they glowed deep amber. Roen faltered. ‘Twas not anger that lit her eyes but satisfaction. He lowered his fist and narrowed his eyes to study his adversary. His will took over and he regained his self-control. “Lady Beatrice, I pray, please escort your lady to some other part of the bailey. If you care for her at all, do it now.”

The glint in Lenora’s eyes sharpened like hard flint. An insulting smile tugged at the corners of her deep red lips. He sensed she was well pleased with herself.

Lenora’s crooked smile made her look more childlike. She called, “Come, Beatrice, I’ve no need to stay longer. I am finished, for now, with the knight.” Lenora tossed back her tangled braid and left the group of stunned men. Beatrice gave Hamlin and Roen an apologetic look then ran after her surely demented cousin.

Hamlin stared in shocked confusion. He turned to Roen’s thunderous face. “I had thought you too hard on the girl, but nay, ‘tis the other way around. She is rude and deserves a good beating. I cannot think you will really marry this shrew.” Hamlin shuddered. “Life with her would be a sorrowful institution for sure. Come, let us leave this place. You have not given your word on this marriage. The king can send some other man, one who deserves punishment instead of reward.”

Roen’s angry white face stilled. The clenched fist slowly untightened. The bulging vein in his neck began to return to normal.
His men watched their leader with puzzlement. Roen leaned over and began to laugh. The puzzlement changed to wonder, then concern for his sanity.

Great bursts of gut-tightening laughter erupted from Roen. Tears formed in his eyes from the strength of his amusement. “Oh, Hamlin, I must watch that girl more. I believe she could even teach me.”

“Teach you what? How to tear a man in two with words? Has she wounded you so that you are driven mad? I have known you almost all your life and have never seen you act so. What has the girl done?”

Roen wiped the tears from his eyes. “My friend, she warned us at Tintagel that she was intelligent.” Hamlin’s face showed no comprehension. “Think, man, what did you just say?”

“That we should be away from here as soon as the horses can be prepared.”

“And what does the sharp-tongued Lady of Woodshadow wish more than anything?” Roen inquired.

“Right now, I believe she would like to see you cooked slowly over the kitchen spit,” Hamlin answered truthfully.

“Aye, that is true enough. But first, she wants me gone. I have her word that she cannot back out of our marriage. Yet I gave no word to her or her father on the marriage. The only vow I swore was not to strike her. To naysay this marriage I must break my word to her father. Then she and her cousin could renounce me and I could not honorably marry either of them.”

The fog cleared in Hamlin’s mind. “Ah, now I see.” He watched Lenora’s bouncing red hair as the two girls climbed the forebuilding steps of the castle. “You’re right, she did warn us. You came close to succumbing to her plan only moments ago. What stopped you?”

“Her eyes.” Roen shrugged uncomfortably under Hamlin’s scrutiny. “She can lie with her lips, but not with her eyes. They tell too much if one knows how to read them.”

Roen started toward the castle after waving his men back to their duties. Hamlin walked at his side and gave him an irksome look. “’Tis good that you will be able to read your wife so well since she obviously can read you, as well.”