Defiant Surrender (8 page)

Back in her room, Maddie clasped the rosary around her neck and looked out the window to the heavens above. The stars bright beyond imagining above the medieval world she now lived. “Please God, get me home,” she said and willed the Almighty to listen to her first ever prayer.

*

Madeline’s body—breasts full and high, small delicate waist, hips that flared at just the right angle, long lean legs that went on forever—invited worship. William’s jaw clenched as he fought his body’s desire. He reminded himself yet again, to breathe as he tried to calm his overwhelmed senses. Holy mother of God! He swore into the darkened hall as he made his way outside. What had he done? The nights cooling air did little to fight the overwhelming urge to return to her room. To take her.

He would not give her what she wanted. Christ, what he wanted. His body roared in protest at denied release. William could not, would not, have her. He breathed hard, his resolve almost crumbling as he remembered her naked flushed, flesh and willing mind.

But Lady Madeline Vincent was the devil’s spawn. Her father hailed from such origins, after all. His wife by decree, one he abhorred, was not only smart, intelligent and maddening, but also more passionate than he had ever imagined possible of a woman. He clenched his jaw with the realization that from this day on he’d only crave his wife.

Self-disgust clawed at his flesh. He was a fool, and yet, he couldn’t understand why Madeline had looked wounded when he’d left. If she hated him so much she should not have allowed such liberties. But she had…

He would not sleep in his chamber tonight. Staying there would almost certainly see him end up in her bed. Instead, William walked out into the bailey and strode down toward his knights’ barracks. A hard bed away from Madeline would be the safest place this nightfall.

A comely serving wench crossed his path and with a beckoning glance William’s resolve to sleep alone deserted him. No matter what his past promises or current thoughts were, he would at least put himself out of pain. He followed the wench into her cottage, and shut the door on his conscience.

*

The morning brought a headache, which Maddie thought would surely split her head in two. Just to roll over in bed made her brain shudder and pound inside her skull. She rubbed her temples and squinted as Mistress Rhode pulled the tapestry away from the window to allow the bright morning light to enter. The cool air swept into her chamber and she shivered from the temperature drop. Maddie pulled a pillow over her head in the hope it would ease the pain.

“M’lady, are you ailed this morn?”

Maddie winced as the lid of her clothes chest slammed down somewhere near the hearth. “Yes, I am. In fact, I think I’m dying.” She heard her maid tsk tsk before the straw bed dipped, and the pillow was pulled from her head. Mistress Rhode placed a comforting hand upon her brow.

“You do not feel warm, m’lady. Is it your stomach that gives you pain?”

“No,” Maddie said, sitting up. “I have a headache, nothing more.”

Mistress Rhode stood and walked to the door. “I shall make up a tisane for you. I shan’t be long.”

Maddie closed her eyes in bliss as the quiet enveloped her once more. The only sound was that of the ocean and its waves as they crashed against the craggy, jagged rocks below. It lulled her to the verge of sleep before she started at her maid’s return.

“Here we are then, m’lady. Now, it may not be to your taste, but it will rid you of your ailment.”

She took the cup and stared with trepidation at the soup-like mixture. She smelled the drink and looked back at her maid who stood ready, it seemed, to pour it down her throat.

“It smells,” she said.

“Would you rather it smell like mead or wine; a nectar, which fools you into thinking it will leave you feeling well until the next day, after you have drunk too much? You are correct, m’lady, it does smell. But it will rid you of the headache your sweet, nice tasting drink has given you.”

Chastised, Maddie took a swallow and sat up coughing. “What on earth is in this?” she gasped, as she tried to catch her breath.

“An assortment of ingredients my mother always uses. Cabbage, iris, a small dose of comfrey.”

“And you believe this will help me?”

Her maid turned away to stoke the fire, a grin upon her lips. “It will, m’lady. Never fear. Now drink!”

Maddie blocked her nose and drank down, or ate down, the remainder of the broth. It left her unsure whether her queasy stomach was from the hangover or the medicinal drink. She looked out the window from her bed. The day seemed to be clear, despite the late snow that had started to fall over the last week. The chill air raised goose bumps on her arms.

“You will need a
mantle today, m’lady, it is quite cool out. Is the green gown to your liking?”

Maddie turned around, and nodded at the dress her maid held up for inspection. “That’s fine. Whatever you think is best,” she said, ignoring Mistress Rhodes worried frown. She jumped from the bed, and swore as the cold stone met her feet.

“You missed mass this morn, m’lady.”

Maddie washed as best she could in the small bowl of tepid water. She sat down on a stool beside the fire and tried to warm herself. “I’m sorry, Mistress Rhode. I’ll go tomorrow. Please make sure I’m woken in time.”

Her maid helped her into her gown, the warm wool taking some of the chill from her bones. “’Tis a good idea, m’lady. There has been talk among the servants of your noticeable absence.”

Maddie stood and tied her mantle in place. “What sort of talk?”

“Naught to concern yourself with, m’lady, as all will be well by day’s end. You will attend mass on the morrow and perhaps ensure at each meal today prayers are held?”

Maddie met her maids pointed stare with one of her own. “Okay, as long as I don’t have to say anything.” Religion was not her strong point.

Mistress Rhode smiled. “Aye, m’lady. Of course.”

*

In the hope food would make her seediness somewhat better, Maddie walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. She would also ensure, from now on, her consumption of medieval alcohol was monitored. Not so much to avoid the inevitable headache, but rather to escape having to drink another vile-tasting tisane again. Seated at the head of the table she nibbled some bread, and drank water she had requested to be boiled daily for drinking purposes. There was no way she could continue to drink all this wine. Maddie reached for some meat to add to her plate just as William strode into the hall. Her bad mood took a turn for the worst when she noted William wearing the same clothing as the night before. Not that such a thing should surprise her after where he had gone last night. But in a small part of her mind she had hoped her eyes had deceived her. That William wasn’t as bad as he acted.

A muscle twitched in his jaw when he noticed her scrutiny of him and Maddie inwardly smiled at his unease. He bellowed to a servant for some breakfast and sat beside her. Maddie shook her head at her husband’s high and mighty manner toward her people. She remembered his purposeful stride into the serving woman’s home and her annoyance turned to anger. She chose to ignore his good-morning welcome, and continued to eat.

“You cannot even acknowledge your husband, m’lady? It shows very poor taste and breeding to allow your feelings to be so open and yourself to be so free to ridicule.”

“I have nothing to say to you, my lord. In fact, I would think it wise for you to leave my home and lands and never return. I plan to write to King Henry, requesting he support my request for an annulment. I have no wish to be married to you.”

“You didn’t seem to want to be rid of me last night, ma chère?”

Maddie met his gaze. “Save it for the wenches you bed, husband, your endearments hold no sway with me.”

He stilled. Maddie could almost hear his teeth grind as he clenched his jaw and picked up his mead.

“And what, pray, do you mean by that?”

Maddie smiled and leant toward him. Placed her hand upon his thigh and smirked as his muscles tightened under her grasp. Men, she thought, were so easy to manipulate; this one easier than most.

“Only that, my esteemed Lord. I know where you went last night. And it wasn’t the knights’ barracks.”

“You followed me?” he asked in the softest tone that sounded anything but sweet.

“Yes,” she replied, with a patronizing smile.

“Well,” he said. “She was more comely than you, m’lady. And wenches who fit that description are few.”

Maddie watched him as she nibbled on her breakfast. Should she be insulted or flattered by that? God, he could be such an arse at times.

“Well,” she replied, “I hope she was worth it. No doubt after your pleasure, you will be in a more cooperative mood today and therefore will not yell at the servants.”

“I did not yell at my page.”

“Yes, you did, my lord.”

“Is that all you are angry at? Not that I bedded another woman, but that I yelled at your vassals?”

Maddie laughed then sobered just as quickly. “You think I would be jealous, husband?” She willed herself to forget how pliant and eager she’d been in his arms. Delicious heat spread to her core, but she pushed it away, would not allow such emotion toward this man. She strove not to blush when his eyes darkened and settled on her lips. Maddie refused to give him the satisfaction of her shame.

“I believe you try to fool everyone.” His whispered words were like a caress.

“What does that mean?”

William chuckled but there was no
humor in the sound. “Your paleness this morn is answer enough. I believe you are sickened that I did not consummate our marriage last eve. I believe your sickly appearance is proof of this.”

Maddie wiped the square linen napkin across her mouth. “You’re a fool, my lord. I am pale this morning because I have a headache from too much alcohol last night.”

“Drowning your sorrows over my departure. I do not doubt it,” he said. “You would not be the first wench to be left so.”

“Dream on, William. I drowned myself in drink because I allowed a reprobate such as you to touch me. It will not happen again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised to help set up some of the activities for the festival tomorrow. Have a good day, husband.”

William sat and watched as Madeline walked, tall and proud, from the hall, her maid following at her heels. He ran a hand over his jaw, the stubble prickling his palm. What was he doing saying things he did not mean? He was not a spiteful man and yet around Madeline he could not help but be unkind. It was not her fault they married. His anger should be directed at their respective parents, not at her. He took a swig from his goblet, and wondered how she could be so indifferent to him, especially after her reaction to his kisses last eve.

His annoyance was more at himself than Madeline. He would not have treated Lady Veronica in such a derogatory manner and yet he had done so with his wife. For God’s teeth, he silently muttered. It was one thing to have a mistress of whom a wife was aware. But it was quite another to leave a woman one was about to thoroughly bed and seek the first wench who crossed his path.

His body hardened as the memory of them, locked together in Madeline’s room, assailed him. He thought of that kiss; its strength and intensity had near unmanned him. William slammed his mug of wine down on the dais then cursed when the red beverage spattered his hand.

He never wanted Lady Madeline for a wife. So why, with every accursed hour of the day, did he lust after her skirts. Anyone who looked past his belt would see the evidence of such a statement. But he wondered: how was it she could be so full of fire and welcome his advances only to be cold and distant hours later? He looked up as Fiona, the wench from last night, moved past the trestle tables. She displayed ample flesh to full advantage as she bent and served the morning meal.

He clenched his jaw as he looked at his food. For the first time in his life, he had not been able to bed a woman, though not for lack of trying. Not being able to perform was an unwelcome experience. Somewhere between Madeline’s room and the wench’s bed, his conscience had won control of his base emotions and needs. He’d known if he had slept with the servant, it would have been the ultimate betrayal of Madeline. A betrayal she would never be able to forgive. She would be lost to him. Ever since he kissed her in the woodshed, something in him had changed. ’Twould seem he had a problem.

He stabbed forcefully into his food, leftover stew from the previous evening meal. William wondered what it was about his enemy’s daughter—his wife—that attracted him so much. Like flowers that followed the sun’s path through the day, so did his attention on Madeline. Next, he would be spouting poetry to the delectable woman like some lovelorn court bard.

Although he cursed to admit it, he constantly looked for her. He checked with Sir Alex or his steward that she was safe and being well cared for at all times. His wife, with her easy manners and delightful charm, wooed everyone she met. It was no surprise even his soldiers at Kingston Castle had succumbed to her charms and now worshipped wherever she walked. She was a natural-born leader, one everyone wanted to know, and one from whom everyone sought advice.

Although not once had she sought his council on any matter pertaining to her ancestral home. Madeline certainly seemed able to get along well enough, when away from him. It was only when they were together that their joint animosity came to the fore, livid as ever. His, from the sheer frustration of her not needing him, and because he did not know what he wanted any longer. And hers, it seemed, because she could not stand him, no matter what her kisses told.

He pushed his plate away, having no taste for the fare before him. He sighed, tired from his constant thoughts and the strained conversations with Madeline. A half smile lifted his lips as he remembered some past disagreements. Fire and ice described his wife. Strong and demanding, just like her deceased father. And he could not but be proud of how she stood up for herself with him. In fact, she was the first ever to have done so. He looked across the hall and noticed Sir Alex stride out into the courtyard. William stood and followed him, not for the first time wondering if there was something between his wife and most trusted knight. His hand fisted at his side, his other clasped the hilt of his sword. Did they dare?

*

Maddie placed a bucket of water on top of the village well, and laughed with the other ladies who helped fill the barrels for the apple bobbing contest to be held tomorrow. The men were busy measuring where the archery contest would take place. Maddie had suggested a small area, which sat at the end of the outer bailey’s wall. There were still small drifts of late snow on some of the shaded areas within the walls but here was clear and green. A large pile of wood was stacked together with rushes, signalling the location of the bonfire for the night’s dancing and celebrations. Hessian bags for the children’s jump race lay folded, checked and ready, along with rope for the adults’ competitions. The people seemed carefree and happy, welcoming and loyal. An overwhelming sense of belonging and companionship filled her.

“M’lady, ye should not be out here, helping us as ye are. As much as we’re grateful and all, it isn’t fittin’.”

Maddie laughed as she picked up her third bucket. “Its fine, Annie, I don’t mind. Besides the festivities are in celebration of my marriage to Lord William. And, in any case, there is so much to be done; I couldn’t in all good conscience leave it to everyone else.”

“Well, we’re happy to have your help, Lady Madeline. And so glad you’re home amongst us as well,” Beth replied, while she scooped some snow into her hand and flicked Annie with it. “Even if Annie here thinks otherwise.”

Maddie watched as an affronted Annie placed her bucket on the ground, and threw her own handful of snow against Beth. “I didn’t mean no disrespect to Lady Madeline,” she replied. Beth gasped when the cold snow hit her directly in the face.

Madeline smiled at the girls’ good-humored banter. “No offense taken, Annie, and thank you, Beth,” she said as she made her own snow pile on top of the stone well.

The women paused and watched her. “What’s that ye doing, m’lady?”

“Just this.” Maddie hurled the snow at the two women who were becoming her friends. She laughed at their shocked faces, which soon turned to smiles as they hurried to procure their own snow missiles to hurl.

It became an all-out snow fight from that point onwards. The snow soon turned to icy water and in their haste to pelt each other, they slipped on the muddy ground. Tears from laughter streamed down Maddie’s face and her gown was soon covered in muck. As another bucket of freezing water landed on her head, Maddie’s hair came loose and fell down her back. She gasped for breath as icy water dripped down her back. She pushed her hair from her face and noticed her companions had halted their mirth. A prickling of unease tingled up her spine and Maddie looked over her shoulder and met the unamused gaze of William.

He stood silent, his eyes wide in shock. Sir Alex, who stood beside him, wore the same expression. Maddie turned back to her friends and smiled. “You had better go change, girls. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, m’lady,” they said in unison and scuttled off to their homes.

Maddie walked up to her husband and curtseyed before proceeding indoors.

Minutes later, Mistress Rhode set about helping her to change; a task that was quite difficult thanks to the
woolen dress under her surcoat, which was heavy with water and clung to her like a second skin. Maddie stood in front of the fire and rubbed her arms to beat the chill from her flesh. She inwardly groaned as her bedroom door opened and slammed against the wall.

“Leave us!”

Maddie frowned at William before looking at her maid who seemed undecided as to whether she should obey his command. “You may leave, Mistress Rhode. Thank you.”

William kicked the door shut as the maid left.

Maddie glanced at him briefly. The man obviously didn’t know the meaning of fun. “What is it, my lord?” she asked, her words, like her skin, far from warm.

“What in God’s country were you doing? What has possessed you to act in such a low and undignified manner?”

Maddie watched the flames lick at the wood and beat down a sigh of annoyance. “I do not think that interacting with people is degrading in any way. You may be the son of a rich man and they are not, but that is the only thing different between you. They are human, are they not, even with their low birth, as you would call it?”

“You forget, Madeline, you are also the daughter of a rich man. And from what I’ve heard of you, you would have thought the same as I on the matter not two months ago.”

Maddie looked at him, exasperated. He was annoyed because she had lowered herself. Not that she may catch a cold and get sick. But because her status as a baron’s wife had been tarnished. Well, she’d had fun for the first time since being thrown into the twelfth century and she would be damned if she’d apologize for it.

“Yes, I do believe I’ve changed from what I was, and if I’m not mistaken, for the better. Now, if there is nothing else, I would like to finish dressing before I head back outside to finish my tasks,” she paused. “With my lowly, common servants.”

She peeked at him and wondered what he was thinking. William stood near the door, his hand clasped tight on the latch. Did he want to leave, or had she ignited a passion within him he refused to acknowledge? Poor man, for he’d get no response from her. If her temper did fan his desire, he would be in a pickle. A devil sat on her shoulder and egged her to test the theory. She ran her fingers through her hair, enjoying the warmth of the fire at her back and his eyes burned a path between them.

And Maddie had her answer.

Silence ensued and she wondered what he would try, or worse, do. His gaze feasted on her breasts, barely covered by the fine chemise she wore. She pulled her shawl over her shoulders and glowered at him. The man was dangerous, and she was well on the way to being in trouble.

William stormed from the room and she slumped into a chair, thankful for the reprieve. But a little part of her felt bereft that he would not reach out the hand of friendship or that she could not control her temper whenever around him.

They seemed destined to be enemies forever.

*

Mewling fool, there was something wrong with him. ’Twas not like him to be like this. He needed Madeline like he needed warmth on the coldest winter night. William reached the hall, and continued outside, wondering why the one woman who vexed and irritated him with every word she uttered had become the one woman he looked and listened for at every moment. She had looked so delightfully young and carefree as she participated in that absurd water fight with the village women. He had savored every moment of her joy, before his being there was noticed and halted the game.

He summoned his horse from the stables and galloped from the compound. He needed to clear his head. Needed to decide what he would do. After what he had put his wife through these past months, could he make this marriage work? A marriage he was once determined to shatter in any way he could, except legally. And would, or more to the point, could Madeline forgive him his actions and come to care for him? Was that what plagued him? That he now cared for her, and she did not reciprocate the feeling?

William swore aloud as the horse’s hooves ate up the miles beneath him. What was he thinking? He detested himself for the feelings she evoked. He’d sworn to always hate any blood of the Vincent’s. He could not be attracted to her.

William clenched his jaw and ignored the slice of pain as a tree branch whipped across his cheek. He would not give in to a man’s weakness for female flesh. There were plenty of other comely wenches to bed and they would have to suffice until he could get her out of his blood. He would not fall for his own wife! Stalwart in his determination, he spurred his steed even faster along the snow-covered track.

*

The winter solstice festival was in full swing by noon the following day. The weather had continued to be clement for the event. The castle cook had outdone herself with the prizes to be given out for the events planned. Toffee apples were also a hit and Maddie smiled as every child was given one, just for being there.

As lady of the manor, Maddie presented the winning prize in the archery contest. Much to her horror, the winner was her husband, who demanded a kiss from his wife. She was ashamed now to admit that she was still recovering from it. Maddie had walked up to William, about to bestow a sweet kiss upon his cheek when he took control of the contact altogether. Careless of their public display, he pulled her up against him, ran his hands through her hair and kissed her. Hard. Their breath mingled and when his tongue sought hers, she’d melted like the snow does in sunlight.

Maddie took a cooling sip of her mead, her face uncomfortably warm when she remembered the loud catcalls from the villagers. It seemed whenever William became passionate he forgot his hatred of her. And vice versa.
He had treated her, since then, with all the cordiality expected from a husband. It had made her not only nervous, but put her on her guard.

She stood next to Beth and Annie and laughed as the men attempted to grasp bobbing apples with their teeth. The water in the wooden tubs had frozen at the top overnight, and was bitterly cold. Sir Alex, who agreed to help her, bestowed the winning prize upon the town smithy before summoning the women to try their luck.

Maddie pulled her hair back into a ponytail and fastened it with a ribbon. She walked toward the barrels and ignored the gasps of delight and shock, which ran through the crowd at her participation in the game.