Bride of the Tower (14 page)

She might be a treasure trove of information, if she was willing to share it.

If he could arrange for her to go to one of Lord Rannulf’s keeps, perhaps to join Gillian’s household…

That might work.

Will brushed at something tickling his neck, and captured Julianna’s hand. Giggling, she rolled atop him and drew the fingers of her other hand around his neck to hover at his throat.

“I’ve been attacked by a she-cat, or so I was told,” he said. “Can you see the marks?”

Color bloomed in her cheeks as she stroked the mark on his throat, then covered it with her palm. “Someone saw? Who was it?”

“Aye.” He eased her other hand around from his neck and stroked it over the scratches. “He saw these as well,” he told her teasingly.

Julianna pressed both hands palm-down on his chest and raised herself up. “Who, Will?” she coaxed, bending to trace her tongue over the mark on his throat.

He laughed at the expression on her face—concentration mixed with blossoming passion. “What
will you do if I don’t tell you?” he asked, his voice thickening as she scraped her teeth lightly along his collarbone.

“I may be forced to have my way with you until you talk,” she murmured. She settled atop his burgeoning manhood and held him cradled against her softness. Her breasts grazed his chest, her nipples tracing a heated path across his own.

Will sucked in a shaky breath. “Is that supposed to make me talk?” he teased. “’Tis more like to strike me dumb, especially if you continue what you’re doing.” He smoothed his hands down over her back and cupped her buttocks to hold her tight to his aching flesh. “Please, love, don’t stop what you’re doing.”

Julianna smiled and pressed her mouth to his own eager lips. “Sir Will, prepare to be tortured.”

Birkland

H
e couldn’t have received better news.

Sir Richard rubbed his hands together, his pleasure at the report from Tuck’s Tower the one highpoint in a truly miserable week. His archer had not only been able to take a clear shot at Julianna the night before, it sounded as though he’d hit her!

Richard doubted there would be much resistance at all from her people once he brought his troops in to take command of the place.

His hands shook with excitement as he poured a generous measure of wine into a heavy chased
goblet. ’Twas a fine brew, worthy of the occasion.

Now if only the man he’d sent to bring back Rachel would return with her soon, he might finally allow himself to believe that all his plans would soon come to a successful fruition.

By Christ, but he was tired of the need to plot and scheme! The continuous struggle to gain the power he deserved sucked away the enjoyment of his victories, both large and small. He never seemed to have a moment of peace to savor them.

Richard stared into the deep red wine, the color of pleasure, of wealth and richness. Someday, he vowed, someday soon he would garb himself in crimson velvet, savor the finest drink, partake of exotic foods and have the most skilled and beautiful highborn harlots at his beck and call.

The whores who serviced him now would do nigh anything he ordered, ’twas true, but he’d heard that there were noble women—beautiful and experienced—who took pleasure in his sort of love play.

Women who’d satisfy his every desire with equal fervor.

Everything he’d ever wanted.

Soon, he reminded himself.

He sipped the last of the wine, rolling the rich vintage over his tongue.

Very, very soon.

Tuck’s Tower

Julianna awoke alone, though she hadn’t far to look to find her lover. Will stood by the window, gazing past the open shutters at the rising sun.

She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the better to savor the sight of him. His hair and skin gleamed with a golden glow, limned by dawn’s light. The increasing brightness highlighted the lean musculature of his body.

The body she’d learned by sight, by touch, by taste last night.

As he had learned hers.

“If you’re to leave today, you’ll need your messages back.” Wrapping a sheet about her, Julianna climbed out of bed and went to the hearth. “You were very close when you found those old parchments.” She knelt and tugged at several stones, opening up a narrow space. Reaching in, she eased out the leather pouch and held it out for him. He took it and set it on the bed near his discarded clothes.

“I apologize for reading the one addressed to
Sir Richard,” Julianna said. “’Twas none of my business, I know. ’Tis only that the man infuriates me! He’s a boil on the backside of Nottinghamshire, though since your overlord lives far from here, I can understand why he wouldn’t know Richard’s true nature. He’s an avaricious fool. I hope your Lord Rannulf will remove him from Birkland and send someone else to oversee the place.”

“What little I saw of him didn’t impress me, either. ’Tis another reason Lord Rannulf sent me to deliver messages to the overseers of his holdings—he wanted to know how they went on.”

“’Tis a sensible plan.” Julianna shifted to sit on the low hearth. “And an immense responsibility. Lord Rannulf must trust you very much.”

Will seemed to be uncomfortable with her words, but he nodded. “I hope he does. I’ve done my best to fulfill his expectations—and my own. I don’t wish to remain a landless knight forever.”

She doubted he would, since he obviously worked hard to perform his duties.

He stretched, then winced.

“Do your wounds still pain you?” she asked. She rose and went to stand behind him, wrapping her arms about him and pressing her cheek to the smooth, strong flesh of his back.

Will turned within her embrace. “A bit.” He rested his brow against hers while she checked the bandages for bleeding or seepage. “They’re fine, only a little sore—from yesterday’s events, no doubt,” he added with a teasing smile.

“I’m not surprised,” Julianna agreed. “’Tis a wonder you’re not back in bed, suffering the effects of doing too much too soon.”

“If I’d the time, ’twould be my fondest wish to climb back into bed—as long as you were there with me.” He swept the tangled mass of her hair from her face. “Though the worst ache I’m suffering at the moment isn’t covered by a bandage, nor would it benefit from that hog swill Dora gave me.”

Quite aware of just what ache Will referred to—how could she not notice his swollen manhood pressing urgently against her?—Julianna felt a sudden wave of shyness. She focused her attention instead upon tightening the knot of the bandage wrapped about his arm. “What would ease you, then? A different potion, or an unguent?” she teased, trailing her fingers fleetingly over his belly and the rigid flesh below.

Will caught her hand and drew it away from such dangerous territory. “You, Julianna.” He
kissed her fingers, then pressed them over his heart. “You’re all the medicine I need, love. Kiss me and make me whole.” Leaning over her, he cupped her chin in his palm and captured her lips.

Julianna kissed him back with all the intensity of a perfect moment shared, drinking of his mouth with a hunger she knew only he could satisfy. When Will held her, she felt as though anything was possible, even those things she’d feared.

He didn’t seem to mind her manner of dress, her habit of wearing sword and dagger, the fact that she commanded Tuck’s Tower. She could even believe it might be possible to share that authority.

With Will.

He gave her a gift, something she had learned not to expect from any man other than her father.

He treated her as an equal, with respect.

Yet he also treated her as a woman—cherished, appreciated.

The way he made her feel right now.

Julianna wished this moment would never end, even as she knew it must. The sun shone full upon them; ’twas nearly time for Will to leave, and for her to go about her usual tasks.

Before she could break away from him, he
grasped her hands and raised them to his lips. “Let me say goodbye to you now, love.” His eyes darkened, the blue intense, his expression solemn, sincere. “I’ll return as soon as I can, I swear to you.” He turned over her right hand, tracing his lips across her callused palm. “And I’ll not leave you again unless you wish me gone. Friend or lover—whichever you want of me, I shall be.”

A rueful smile on his lips, he stepped away from her, exposing his swollen manhood. “Though it must be clear to you which I’d rather you choose.”

Her choice as well.

Julianna thought of many things she should say, but ’twas difficult to force the words past the lump of sorrow clogging her throat. “Godspeed,” she whispered as Will gathered up his clothing and message pouch and, with one last smile, left.

Julianna watched from her window as Will, escorted by two of her men-at-arms, rode out of Tuck’s Tower. A sense of panic seized her—what if he never returned? He’d already been attacked not far from here; would the men she’d sent to accompany him be enough of a guard should he be attacked again?

What if he decided he’d no reason to come back? Would his desire for her, so quickly evident and so swiftly satisfied, fade away as rapidly as the leagues passed beneath his mount’s flying hooves?

Despite their recent intimacy, what did she truly know about Will Bowman?

What if she had traded her virginity—freely given, no mistake—for a moment’s fleeting pleasure?

Did that diminish the pleasure they’d shared, lessen the significance of the unspoken commitment she’d made to Will by making love with him?

What if, what if…? Tears welling in her eyes, she turned from the window once the gates had creaked closed. She’d drive herself mad if she lingered on this path, for it led nowhere. She had no answers for the multitude of questions that plagued her, now that ’twas too late to ask them.

Assuming she’d have had the courage to ask.

There were times, she knew, when ’twas better to simply let some questions stay unspoken. She’d been taught never to ask about anything unless she wanted an honest answer.

Sometimes, though, perhaps ’twas better to remain
ignorant of the truth. Though that had never been her way, it held a certain appeal, especially today. Her emotions felt flayed raw, and her usual confidence had apparently fled along with her innocence.

Enough!
she chided herself. Only time could provide the answers she sought. In the meantime she ought to be able to distract herself.

Julianna stooped to pick up the torn remnants of her once-beautiful gown. Though she was no seamstress, she doubted the garment could be salvaged.

She traced her fingers over the few pearls left round the neckline, saddened by the loss of yet another remnant of her mother’s love. Holding the soft silk to her cheek, she breathed in the faint, comforting scent of her mother’s perfume and reminded herself that she saw the tangible signs of her mother’s love every day. A secure home; a loving father; the loyalty of her people to her, and to her parents’—
all
three of her parents’—memories.

Lady Marian had provided well for her daughter, left her well protected by both her fathers’ people, for the aging remnants of Robin’s band
and their families resided in the village beyond the walls of Tuck’s Tower.

Thankfully, a knock at the door forced Julianna to abandon her futile musings. “Come,” she called, remembering at the last moment to wrap herself more securely in the sheet she’d pulled off the bed.

Rachel paused just inside the open door. “Lady Julianna—”

“Please, come in and shut the door.” Julianna set the gown she’d been holding onto the bed. “As you can see, I’m not dressed enough to leave the door open just yet.”

Rachel did as she’d requested, but still lingered on the other side of the chamber.

“Is something wrong?” Julianna asked.

The other woman clasped her hands in front of her as though she were a penitent—a most unusual attitude for “Mary,” though mayhap a typical one for Rachel, for all Julianna knew about her.

“Rachel?”

“Lady Julianna, now that you know who I am—and in light of yesterday’s humiliating debacle—I’m not sure where I belong here at Tuck’s Tower.” She glanced up at Juliana and drew a
deep breath, seeming to draw confidence from something she saw. “Am I still a servant, or something more? Or would you rather I simply leave Tuck’s Tower altogether and return to my brother?”

Shame washed over Julianna. She’d completely ignored the fact that Rachel was not a servant after all—and everything that revelation meant to her status at Tuck’s Tower.

How could she have neglected to see to Rachel’s safety? “I’m so sorry, Rachel! My mind was obviously elsewhere, since I did so little to reassure you or to provide for you.”

“You’d been ill, milady. You’d other things on your mind than me.”

Julianna’s shame deepened. “Sweet Mary save you, where did you sleep last night?” she asked, envisioning Rachel curled up with the hounds on the rush-strewn floor of the great hall.

“I returned to the barracks,” Rachel said impassively. “I knew I could trust the men-at-arms to protect me for another night, and my belongings were there. Anyway those witches who went after me yesterday heard an earful from Rolf and Diccon about what they did. So I don’t think they’ll be after me again anytime soon.” She
reached for the knife sheath hanging from her belt. “Besides, Diccon found me a dagger. I’m not afraid to use it if I need to.”

Considering the state Rachel had been in when Julianna put a stop to the commotion in the bailey, ’twas astounding that she should be so composed now. Of course, unlike the previous day, no one was threatening Rachel’s life. Still, Rachel clearly possessed a calmer nature, and a more forgiving one, than her brother did.

It was their good fortune ’twas so, for one Sir Richard Belleville was enough to manage.

“You are no longer a servant, Rachel,” Julianna told her. “Unless you wish to be of service to us here at Tuck’s Tower by making use of your skills as a healer to keep us all well.”

“’Twould be my pleasure, Lady Julianna.” Rachel bowed her head in acknowledgment. “I thank you.”

“Nay, I owe you my gratitude for agreeing to stay.” Julianna crossed to the door of the storeroom and tugged it open. “We shall set up this chamber for you, if you’d like. You’ll be safer here from Joan and her ilk—and your character less maligned, as well.”

Rachel joined her and peered into the darkened
chamber. “’Tis too much, milady!” Yet Julianna heard excitement in the other woman’s voice, and anticipation. “But I’ll take it, and gladly.”

How had Rachel’s brother and sister treated her, that she should be so filled with enthusiasm by a storeroom?

“’Tis settled then. I’ll send for someone to help you arrange it as you see fit.”

Julianna left Rachel to focus on her new chamber, glad to have her own room to herself. She needed to wash and dress, to ready herself for the coming day.

A day empty of Will.

Until recently, all her days had passed with her completely unaware of Will’s existence. She ought to be capable of managing without him now.

Now, however, she knew what had been missing from her life. How would she get by if he didn’t return?

Half-dressed, worried, Julianna knelt by her bed and prayed she’d never need to find out.