Bedded By The Warrior

Chapter Four

The campfire crackled, providing light and warmth in the small clearing where they’d settled for the night. After their weeks at court, William and the Earl had decided to spend the night some place quiet, and less confining. So, they’d made camp just off the side of the road instead of seeking shelter in the next town.

Stiff from hours on the back of a horse, Sarah would have preferred the softness of a bed. But she’d no wish to argue something so minor. Instead, a blanket on the hard ground would have to do.

Seated on a log facing the fire, she stretched her legs and savoured the warmth. Without appearing too interested, Sarah returned her attention to the men’s conversation about Arnyll.

Earl Hugh snapped a dead tree limb, and then tossed it on to the flames. ‘I am surprised you did not slay him in his tracks.’

William shrugged. ‘I didn’t think that would much please the Queen.’

‘True.’ Hugh laughed softly.

Adrienna, seated on the log next to her, leaned over to ask, ‘Remember Lady Waltrop’s reaction upon discovering that old man’s body in the Great Hall?’

Even though the man’s unexpected demise had been far from humorous, Sarah laughed at the memory. ‘Queen Eleanor thought Lady Waltrop would perish of shock.’

Adrienna’s burst of laughter sent Sarah into another bout of giggles. When she caught her breath, she admitted, ‘I fear I would have been more than surprised myself had I been the one to find the man slumped in the corner staring at me over my morning repast.’

Hugh asked, ‘How did he die?’

‘No one knows.’ Sarah explained further. ‘He was far beyond his prime and there were no signs of any injury.’

‘I could not help but feel sorry for him,’ Adrienna mused, then she asked, ‘Did anyone ever discover his identity?’

‘I can’t remember his name, but he had been one of the Queen’s guards in his younger years. Since he was so ancient and had no place else to go, she had kept him in her service doing small details for his…food…and…’ Realising the other three were staring at her, she let her explanation trail off, and instead asked, ‘What is wrong?’

‘Nobody else seemed to know who he was.’ Adrienna asked, ‘So, how did you know?’

William’s stare pierced her through the fire. ‘It is a little odd that you would know those details.’

‘Odd? How so?’

Earl Hugh said, ‘A man’s position, his wealth, or lack of wealth, isn’t something the Queen, or any lady of the keep, would openly discuss with one of her ladies-in-waiting.’

‘Oh.’ Sarah swallowed a curse. How could she have been so careless? She quickly sought an explanation. ‘I told you that I had been acting as a spy for the Queen. She must have mentioned it to one of her men when I was present.’

Adrienna relaxed at the admission, but said, ‘It must be a relief not to have to perform such vile tasks any more.’

Without taking her gaze from Adrienna, Sarah knew William was watching her closely. She could feel his attention burn across the distance. She was well aware that he had sensed something was wrong—he hadn’t figured out what that something was, just yet. He was waiting for her to make a mistake that would give him the hint, the clue he needed to put it all together.

Sarah let her shoulders slump as she sighed. ‘Oh, yes, it is a huge relief.’

‘I don’t know which would have been worse—spying for the Queen, or having the reputation of being a…whore.’

Before Sarah could answer, William said, ‘Reputations physically harm no one. But spying for one’s master can harm many and end in death.’

Sarah’s stomach clenched. The Queen had hinted at William’s death being the way for Sarah to remarry. While she had no wish to remain wed to him, neither did she desire his death. She turned to look at him. ‘I have harmed no one. And I can assure you that nobody has died because of some crumb of information I may have passed on to the Queen.’

‘How can you know that for certain?’

In all honesty, she couldn’t be certain. But with the pained expression furrowing William’s brow, and the tightness of his mouth, she wasn’t about to admit that to him. ‘It wasn’t as if I had gathered information of any great importance.’

‘Even a tiny scrap of information in the wrong hands becomes important.’

‘William, cease.’ Earl Hugh placed a hand on William’s arm.

While Sarah wondered at William’s emotional response, Lady Adrienna brought the conversation back to the Queen. ‘You said the Queen permitted her elderly guard to remain in her court?’ She shook her head, admitting, ‘I didn’t know Queen Eleanor could be that soft-hearted.’

Sarah assured her, ‘She often treated her subjects with more kindness than many could imagine.’

‘Oh, yes.’ William stared at her. ‘The Queen’s compassion is apparent to all of us.’

‘I said often, not always.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘Other than this instance, she’d always treated me…justly.’

William noted Sarah’s hesitation. Had ‘justly’ been the correct word?

‘Justly?’ To his surprise, Lady Adrienna badgered Sarah, asking, ‘How can you say that? If using you to do her underhanded bidding was just, then I am truly thankful she never saw fit to treat me thusly.’

His wife’s eyebrows rose as she turned to answer Adrienna. ‘Ah, but you came to the court as a woman fully grown, with gold in hand and prospects of a grand marriage. I came as an unwanted child, with nothing more than the ill-fitting clothes on my back. Queen Eleanor gave me a safe place to sleep, enough food to eat, and permitted me the opportunity to learn how to read and write.’

Sarah plucked at the skirt of her gown, a golden-hued garment fitted more to the court than for travelling. ‘I am indebted to the Queen for everything. The clothing I now wear.’ She raised a hand to the jewelled clips decorating the ends of her braids. ‘And even for the little trinkets that you would take for granted.’

‘I am sorry.’ Adrienna touched Sarah’s arm. ‘I—’

‘No.’ Sarah leaned away from Adrienna’s touch. ‘I am not seeking your pity. I have no complaints with my lot in life. I sought only to explain why I am beholden to the Queen.’

William tossed Sarah’s words around in his head. He rose from his seat next to Hugh. ‘You are wrong, Sarah.’ After assisting Adrienna to her feet, William took her place on the log. ‘Those days are over. You are not beholden to her. Queen Eleanor is no longer your master.’

‘Master?’ Sarah frowned. ‘What a strange way to refer to the Queen. It was not as if she owned me.’

‘Then how would you describe it?’ Hugh asked from across the fire. ‘You depended on her for food, shelter and clothing. In return she used you any way she saw fit. Is that not the relationship between a servant and a master?’

‘No. It was more that I performed services in exchange for her generosity through the years.’

‘Since she had accepted you into her court, I can only assume that she had made a promise to your father to care for you.’

“I suppose.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘I have not spoken to my father since he left me with the Queen.’

William asked, ‘How long have you been with the court?’

‘About twelve years. I was not yet seven years old when my father brought me to court. He did so only because he had not the gold to foist me off on the Church.’

Sarah didn’t know it, but they had more in common than she realised. She had been under the Queen’s rule nearly as long as he’d been a captive. William sidled a little closer to her. ‘And your mother?’

Sarah stared into the fire for a few moments before she finally answered in a whisper, ‘I barely remember her.’

‘Did she die?’

‘Not exactly.’ Sarah picked up a twig and snapped it into little pieces.

William glanced towards Hugh and Adrienna. They sat forehead to forehead, talking softly to each other. He drew his attention back to his wife. Covering her shaking hands with one of his own, he asked, ‘What happened?’

She turned her face away and tugged to free her hands. He moved closer; putting an arm across her shoulders, he forced her to lean against him. ‘What happened, Sarah?’

‘I killed her.’ Her trembling voice was barely above a whisper.

‘At six years old? I doubt that, Sarah.’ Who in their right mind would convince a child of such vile nonsense? ‘How did she die?’

For a few moments he didn’t think she’d answer him, but finally, she said, ‘I had been playing with my baby, on the stairs, when the nursemaid called me to get ready for bed.’ Sarah paused for a heartbeat as if trying to remember the incident. ‘Later that night, I was awakened by my mother’s scream. She tripped over the doll I’d left behind and fell down the stairs.’

William tightened his embrace. He lowered his head and whispered against her ear, ‘That was not your fault.’

‘Yes, it was. My father carried her and the doll up to the bedchamber. After she’d taken her last ragged breath, he threw the doll at me, shouting that I’d killed his wife and unborn child. He then ordered me to take my cursed toy and leave his sight for good.’

William’s heart ached for the child. He could only imagine her fear and confusion. ‘Ah, Sarah, he didn’t mean that. His angry words came from grief.’

She struggled against his chest, gasping, ‘I can’t breathe, let me go.’

He relaxed his hold, but didn’t release her. When her breathing calmed, she said, ‘My father had meant exactly what he said. I hid in a tower chamber, and ate only when someone remembered to bring me food.’ She touched her crooked nose. ‘And I quickly learned to stay out of my father’s sight.’

Speechless that a father could treat a child so, William kept his mouth shut. The man’s responsibility had been to protect her—to care for her, not place her in danger. Above the sound of blood rushing through his head, his mind shouted, She was but a babe herself. How could you?

The feel of Sarah’s fingers against his cheek drew him from the sudden, evil urge to kill the man with his bare hands. ‘William, do not.’

He shook his head, trying to clear away the vicious thoughts of revenge. ‘Do not what?’

‘Do not fret for the child. She survived.’

Survived? He knew exactly what it was to simply survive. He’d done so by using his wits and size. As a child, she’d had neither. She’d deserved more than simple survival. He covered her hand with his own. Rubbing his cheek across her palm, he kissed it, then asked, ‘How did you come to be with the Queen’s court?’

‘My father’s men convinced him to take me to the nearby abbey. But when he discovered that he would have to pay for my keep, he refused to do so. After that, they had to bully him into bringing me to the King and Queen. The men thought perhaps Henry or Eleanor might be better able to find me a family in which to foster.’

‘Yet, the Queen kept you at court instead of finding you another place. Why?’

‘I don’t know.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘By then it did not matter to me. I’d learned not to care. If I simply did as I was told, I would have food and shelter. What else was there?’

Food and shelter. He was amazed that at six years old she’d managed to think and survive as an animal would.

‘What of your father?’

‘I’ve neither seen nor spoken to him since the day he left me at court.’ She sent him an uneven half-smile. ‘It is probably better that way.’

There was little wonder that she’d done whatever the Queen had asked. He now understood why Sarah felt the Queen had treated her justly. His wife would have felt indebted to any who had shown her anything other than anger.

He reached out and cupped her cheek, drawing her closer. Uncertain what to say, or do, William only wanted to offer her a measure of comfort.

Sarah closed her eyes as his breath rushed warm across her cheek. In her hope to make him understand the things she’d done, she had said too much, revealed more than she’d ever intended. Worse—she’d given him the impression that she needed his compassion, his pity, when she wanted neither.

Before he could kiss her, she placed a hand against his chest and held him away. ‘William, don’t.’

He leaned back. Confusion furrowing his brows. ‘I—’

‘No. Do not feel sorry for me. I am no longer that child. What happened to her has no bearing on my life today. I do not need, or want, your pity.’

‘No bearing?’ He lowered his arms from around her. ‘It has impacted your every action.’

‘Do you at least understand why I do not see Queen Eleanor, or her requests, in the same light as others may?’

While it was true that Sarah did not know the chafe of ankle irons, or the weight of chains, she had been as much a slave as he. ‘I may see it, Sarah, but I do not agree she was right in making those decisions. She used your circumstances against you.’

Now Sarah shared William’s confusion. ‘Isn’t using another person simply the way of things? Aren’t most marriage contracts formed on the basis of what each party brings to the union? Are not keeps fortified with men suited to their position? I do not understand what you think Queen Eleanor did wrong.’

William traced the outline of her jaw. ‘I have not the words to argue with you. But, Sarah, now that you are out from beneath the Queen’s control, you will find that your life can be different than the one you’ve known.’

Except she wasn’t out from beneath the Queen’s control. Her life would always be the same. She couldn’t very well tell William that, though. Instead, she glanced at a spot just beyond his shoulder and said, ‘We shall see.’

He leaned slightly to the side, coming directly into her line of vision. He’d let her know, without words, that he’d seen her ruse. Most people never realised that while her face was pointed in their direction, she wasn’t actually looking at them.

It only confirmed her belief that this husband of hers was too clever by far.

William rose. ‘I will see to the horses.’ He leaned over and kissed her forehead. ‘Then we can retire for the night.’

She said nothing. But after he’d left, Sarah glanced nervously at the darkened sky. Normally she welcomed darkness and the solitude it brought.

Regardless of the season, she would wander the castle walls at night. The twinkling stars were the only company she’d required. Night was a quiet time when the world slept, and she was left alone with her dreams and wishes. So alone, that at times, it nearly felt as if she lost herself to physically mingle with the celestial bodies.

But tonight…tonight she dreaded the rising of the moon and the unanswerable questions it would bring.

Guilt nagged at her. Every thought in her head urged her to withhold the truth from him. Since she would not remain with him for long, logic dictated that she protect herself with silence.

Sarah’s stomach clenched at the thought. Even though she would not be wed to him for ever, he’d been kind. And in one very long day he’d made her weak with desire using nothing more than a kiss. He’d teased her. Not in a cruel way, but in a manner that made her heart secretly laugh, even when she was scowling.

More than those things, he’d urged her to talk, and then he had listened. Even when the listening seemed to have horrified him, he had not stopped her.

Somehow, before it was too late, she had to convince her heart not to be foolish. These simple acts of kindness were nothing on which to build a life. These misplaced images of her and William together, running rampant through her mind, were nothing more than pity for the child she’d once been.

Sarah gasped at the sharp pain of regret for that child that laced through her. If she kept this up, she’d soon drown in self-pity. Before that happened, she needed a few minutes alone to compose herself. She jumped up from her seat on the log and headed toward the nearby stream.

From across the small clearing, William’s intent stare nearly singed her back, but he said nothing. Instead, the Earl called out, ‘Lady Sarah, do not wander off alone.’

Before she got too far away, William was at her side. He looked down at her, an unspoken question etched on his face. But he remained silent as he escorted her to a secluded spot in the woods. He let her slip off alone and stood guard until she rejoined him at the edge of the stream.

She immersed her hands in the frigid water, hoping the chill would ease the trembling a few moments alone had not. When that failed, she splashed the water on her face. If nothing else, maybe it would calm the worry heating her cheeks.

‘Sarah, come.’

She bit back a tart comment about following him like a loyal dog and fell silently in step behind him. When they returned to the camp, Hugh and Adrienna were curled together beneath a cover on the far side of the fire.

Suddenly terrified of what lay ahead, she stood rooted to the ground, watching William. He cleared sticks and stones from the earth, before unrolling covers for their makeshift bed.

He sat on the log to unlace, then remove his boots before he moved to the bed and stretched out on his side. He stared up at her and extended his arm, inviting her to willingly come to him, giving her the choice.

Sarah wanted to run away from William’s outstretched hand. She wanted to fall into his arms. She wanted to hide—not just from him, but also from herself and everything she’d become…and everything she’d never be.

In that one heartbeat of indecision, it all crashed in on her. She was a liar, a spy, the Queen’s whore…over and over every rumour that had ever been bandied about reverberated loud in her ears. Never would she be able to escape who, or what, she was.

Unshed tears blurred her vision. A cry lodged in her throat, nearly choking her as she turned away. William cursed softly. Before she could move, he sat up and took away her opportunity to choose by pulling her down next to him.

She rolled on to her side, facing away from him. With one arm wrapped firmly about her waist, he held her fast. ‘This day has been too long. I will bedevil you no further, Sarah. Go to sleep.’

Thankful that this would not be the night for more questions, she closed her eyes. But sleep would not come. It was held at bay by the solid length of his body behind hers, and by the strong beat of his heart against her back.

Every passing heartbeat fed her guilt. And each moment that he held her close, offering protection instead of ravishment, made her worry that she’d not be able to see this plan of Eleanor’s through to the end.

Dear Lord above, what would she do if that proved true? If she betrayed Queen Eleanor, she could likely lose her life. Yet, if she betrayed William, he would lose his. Unless she could somehow talk the Queen out of seeing him dead. Thus far, she’d never been able to change the Queen’s mind on anything, so Sarah held little hope for doing so in the future.

The pounding inside her head was nearly unbearable. And the tightness in her throat, from holding back tears, threatened to strangle her.

William loosened his hold from around her waist, reached up and brushed a thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t realised had fallen. ‘Rest easy, Sarah, I am not going to hurt you.’

She sniffed, then said, ‘I know that.’ The second the words were out of her mouth she wanted to quickly push them back inside.

He raised up on his elbow and leaned over her. ‘Then what are you crying about?’

‘Crying? What are you talking about? I am not crying. What would I have to cry about? There’s no reason for me to cry. Everything is fine. Go to sleep.’ She spoke so fast that she knew he’d realise she was lying—a witless fool would know.

With his lips against her ear, he whispered, ‘Surely you know that blithering only exposes your lie.’

Since he hadn’t posed a direct question, she said nothing.

William feathered kisses on the sensitive flesh of her neck. His gentle touch sent her heart racing anew, and her mind spinning.

Before she had a chance to calm her flitting senses, he moved back to her ear. ‘I would have thought…that you…would be much better…at fabricating the truth.’

Between words, his lips against her neck, then her ear, chased thrills the length of her spine. Without thought, she answered, ‘So did I.’

At his chuckle, Sarah’s groan of dismay changed quickly to a gasp. The lout had done that on purpose. She pushed at his forearm, hoping he would release her from his embrace.

But instead of releasing her, he tugged her on to her back. ‘Ah, Sarah, how were you ever successful spying for the Queen?’

That was a question she’d like to know the answer to herself. The few men who managed to get her alone long enough to play these games of seduction had never made her mind go numb. Her heart hadn’t pounded like it did now.

In the dim light of the fire she could see only the outline of his form. Still propped up on his elbow, William leaned down towards her. ‘You are such a fraud.’