Conquering the Dark Axe (7 page)

“Your wish is granted.” His whiskered cheek
slid across her skin and she shivered as he took her mouth. Alexa
resisted. He did not care and continued to kiss her forcefully. 
 Alexa tried to turn away, but he held her there until she opened her
mouth.   She tried to bite his tongue as he slid himself
in.   She fought it as best as she could and just as his kiss started
to soften and draw a response from her, he raised his golden head, flipped
again and had her arms tied once more above her head.  Alexa fumed. 

Her eyes followed him as he moved off her and
stood.  The smile of triumph on his face cut her deep. But the
feeling was short-lived and then it was her turn to smile in triumph. As his
eyes had raked over her length slowly, when they met hers again, she could see the
visible rage that shook his body.  And she knew why.

It was passion she saw
there in his green eyes as he held her gaze.   Without a word, that
dark scowl back in place, he turned and quit the chamber.   Alexa
screamed and pummeled the bed with her feet.  She vowed that she was going
to hate him forever. Being married to this man would be the death of him
or her.

FIVE

Being married to her was going to be the death of
her or him, Rourke thought as he rode his horse, Black, hard and fast up the
steep rock and grassy incline on the other side of the Barnett burial
ground.  Goran rode silently at his side, too silently.  
Which Rourke welcomed it, for he was in no mood for his close friend’s tongue
as he was still too riled to do aught but ride to cool his
temperament and clear his head of the hellion lying back there in bed. 
Goran had followed when he’d stormed out and Rourke had known he was there at
his back, but had said nothing. It was simply Goran’s way. 
Rourke’s breath was as hard as Black’s when he slowed and eased the great
warhorse into an easy canter to cool down along the flat surface of the
hill.   Rourke’s gaze swept back down over the
moderate sized courtyard of Barnett manor and the small village
surrounding it. 
He had a great view from this vantage point and could see the tops of trees and
scarcely the top of other neighboring manors leagues away.   A prime
location for his needs.   A castle would do fine right here, but
instead of the quickly earthen structures; his would be mostly of stone to
stave off fires. The way his king had instructed his own to be built. 
“Have you told her yet?”
Goran’s voice cut through his thoughts. Rourke shook his head in
reply. Goran said no more.   Rourke knew of what it was his
friend spoke. 
His thoughts went back to that night William had added all this to his already
vast fiefdom.  Estates near Wales had been his first award for his service
and loyalty with William bestowing the title Lord of Westlan upon
him.  After securing the northern tier and taking that last ride into
Scotland with William a few months past to meet with the Scottish King Malcolm
III, he along with several other loyal vassals were given even more holdings on
that dark, cold and rainy night. 

The night the treaty of Abernethy had been signed.

The Scottish king had given refuge to many fleeing
nobles of the north who had rebelled against William and had raided the North
one too many times.  A semblance of peace had finally been reached for now
at least, Rourke let out a sigh.  Then upon their return, William had
broached the subject of the vast acres of Barnett lands.  He had not only
awarded Barnett to him, but a bride with it.
That, Rourke grunted, he could have done without and he rubbed absently at the
deep ache forming in his chest.  
The manor was hidden deeply amongst a forest of trees all around high on a
hill.   He and Goran now sat on the open spot of lush green where he
would begin to forge his legacy, a Norman castle.  
He had more than enough to call his own now. Serving William on the
battlefield and surviving it all had rewarded him handsomely. 
However, that odd sensation he’d been feeling over the past several months
niggled again at his gut. Weary and nigh sick of all the battles, he was
ready to settle down.   But a wife had not been part of his dream
this time. His dream of a family and son had died back on that day long
ago with Jacqueline.

He could easily enough get his get on any wench and
be mother and father to it. That had been his plan. He’d been a bastard
and despised what it meant growing up. He would not wish the early hardships
he’d endured upon his son.  With all he held before Barnett he’d enough to
see any child of his loins well cared for. Now that plan had gone to rot.
His wife believed him to be a landless bastard and that acquiring her lands
made him whole.   God’s blood!  Until the hellion submitted he
would share no information with her.   He would still have his son
from the hellion whether she liked it or not. 
The feisty she devil was ready to kill him He winced as the ache ballooned
inside his chest.  He was the master here and he would bend her to his
will. Not the other way around.
With that thought, Rourke let out a painful breath and dismounted, taking his
axe from the side of the saddle.   Goran watched him walk away from a
patch of rowan trees to two great oaks spaced far apart and hacked with two
hearty swings of the sharp axe into the thick base of each. 
Chest heaving with exertion, he lowered the heavy weapon to his side and wiped
the blade with an oiled cloth before fastening the axe back to the saddle. The
handle of it fit like a second skin.  It had been made special for him as
had his sword by his long dead blacksmith.   A man that had seen many
seasons, and who had been more of a father to him than the bastard that had
sired him. Rourke’s lips turned down as his eyes narrowed on his namesake.
He hated the weapon as much as he could not part with it.

“The workers will start to build here. Come,
Goran, 'tis time to sit with Barnett’s seneschal and see to the way of this
manor. But, first, I want to visit with this talented blacksmith we keep
hearing about. ” Rourke said as his breath evened out. 

“Aye.”  Goran said no more as they descended
the green and rocky hill.  His friend and lord had been in a foul mood
since he’d come below stairs. Goran had known not to ask about the wedding
night just by the fierce look Rourke had on his face.  He smiled as he
watched him, their pace slower now as they neared the manor.  His friend
had finally met his match in the skinny hellion. Goran had barely been able to
contain his laughter when Rourke had told him how he’d gotten that cut to his
throat.  Feisty spirit, that’s what his friend needed.  Someone to
get under his thick skin.  Someone to tell him no.  Goran’s grin
broadened when Rourke suddenly turned to blister him with a dark knowing look
and a raised brow.  Aye, Goran believed his lady had just done that.

If her fight as she was tossed up and carried about
through the manor the first day was any indication, the magnificent Dark Axe
was in for a long battle of a different sort that Goran had a feeling this time
he would not come out the victor.       

SIX

Alexa woke to the sound of someone moving about the
room.  She had cried herself to sleep after that Norman swine had left
her.  She opened her heavy and swollen lids to see what had caused the
noise.   
The sun had gone down. Dusk was setting its orange and plum blanket over the
manor, yet still cast some light into the room.  Long tapers were lit on
the table on the other side of the window and Alexa found the red-haired maid
standing near it holding a platter of food.

Why was the girl bringing her food?  Where was
Camm? 

Alexa was taken aback at the look in the maid’s eyes
and an icy chill shot down her spine. The girl wished her harm, she could feel
it. Anger replaced her moment of surprise.  It was time for her to put the
maid in her place. “What is your name, girl?”

The petite buxom maid set the platter of food and
drink on the table before she faced her again. Her lips curled up at the
corners and Alexa cursed her husband and her restraints.

“My name is Lina,
my lady
.”  

Alexa opened her mouth but a noise at the chamber
door caused them both to look there.

He was in the door.  He came into the room, his
gaze fixed on the startled maid. He’d made a sound for once, Alexa
thought.  Lina turned to look back at the bed and Alexa quickly shut her
eyes, feigning sleep as her anger coiled around her.

“My lord, I just brought up my lady’s tray.” 
The girl sounded like she had just come from a hard run.

“Where is my wife’s maid?”  Rourke’s question
made Alexa’s brows draw together. His tone held a hint of suspicion.  Or
did she want to think it did. 

“She…She had to help Cook with some other chore I
knew naught of, so she asked me to bring my lady’s tray up in her stead. ‘Tis
alright is it not, my lord?” 

Rourke’s reply was curt. “Aye, ‘Tis fine.”

An uncomfortable quiet filled the room, then Alexa
heard it.

“I miss you, my lord.” 

The maid’s sultry hush caused Alexa to stiffen.
Something inside her stomach twisted and the spark of anger blossomed fully.
She fought to remain still and keep her eyes shut.

“Lina, ‘tis neither the time nor place. Now, please,
that is all for this eve.”  His response was even more abrupt. 
Alexa heard the chamber door close.   
She was so angry over the feelings flowing through her that she could put no
name to and let out the breath she’d been holding and opened her eyes. 
Only to inhale sharply again. 

The devil stood right next to the bed staring down
at her. He had not left with the maid. His cold gaze told her he knew that
she did not sleep. 
“You have to do better than that to fake being asleep, hellion.  I could
see your body stiffen from the door.”  He declared with that fierce scowl
on his face and she wanted to slap him.

Alexa turned her head away.  She did not
wish to speak with him, let alone look at him. She was still fighting
mad from their earlier encounter and wanted to use that anger to fuel her
hatred for the Norman. Rather she tell herself that than believe it had
anything to do with the intimate exchange he had with Lina.  But it was
not as easy as she thought. 

“Your meal is here.  I see you did not eat much
from the noonday platter.  You will need to eat more to build strength so
that you will be able to bear my child without issue. A healthy weight is
needed to succor a babe.” 

She shot him a look of naked disgust as her eyes watched
him reach up near her head.  With a few quick movements, he undid the
ropes, releasing her hands, but kept them in his grasp. 

She would not talk to him nor would she give him the
satisfaction of knowing that his treatment of her and his words bothered her in
the slightest. 

She looked at him with indifference.   However,
his soft curse told her that her act bothered him. His mouth drew down in
a grimace and he looked tired, Alexa noted and cursed herself immediately for
taking note. What did she care if the brute looked like he was ready to topple
over?  

Rourke noted her expression of contrived
indifference and fought back a curse.  He could read her every thought,
but he was too tired to fight with her this eve. 

He asked, his tone brusque, “Are you going to
behave?”

Alexa bit back her own oath  as a tremor shot
through her body from the hard look shooting from those tired bright green
eyes, causing her to pause a long moment.  Obviously a moment too long for
the bastard tightened his hold on the rope and tugged hard.  She struggled
not to fall at his feet and narrowed her gaze on him. 

Through gritted teeth, she replied
tersely,   “Aye.”  Telling herself she spoke only because her
arms hurt and she needed relief from the ache. 

He shrugged a bored look upon his face and he let
her go and moved to the table that held their food.  Alexa’s legs
were weak and she rubbed her wrists under the bit of room allotted between the
thick rope and her skin.  They were beginning to chafe and felt tender
around the red ring.

“Come.  Eat.”  Rourke, now seated at the
table, reached out for a sweet meat, his eyes for once, to Alexa’s relief not
on her.  She walked to the bench and sat down. 

There were two silver platters. One filled with
breads, cheeses, meats and the other a trencher of stew, fruits and
nuts on the side. There were two trays.  She chose the stew and
after two bites of it, she stopped eating. 

“Nay. Eat more.”  His repeated command came as
he leaned back, his bench pushed against the wall and with his hooded gaze on
her, he lounged there waiting.

Alexa pressed her lips together in irritation. 
She spotted the berries and began to shove several of them into her mouth in an
unladylike fashion.  In her haste to spite him, she choked on one and
fumed when she heard his low chuckle of mirth.  She shot him a murderous
glare before she swallowed them down with a large gulp of wine.

“I am full.” She said wiping her mouth with one of
the cloths before she stood up.  She expected him to say more, but he
didn’t.

Camm must have left the fresh water she spotted on
another table.  Alexa sighed with relief and washed her face and
hands.  Afterwards, she grabbed her comb and brush that lay next to it,
then let out a shriek when she felt him behind her.