Knight of Her Heart (Conquering the Heart) (37 page)

“She loved you. They both did.”

“Nay. She favoured you. That she could love you when you should have been naught but a constant reminder of her shame, added to her disgrace. That she lay with another out of wedlock, and when she was already betrothed, is proof that she was a whore. For years she continued her deceit, covering up the truth by foisting you on the man she married.”

“’Twas a mistake she repented. A folly of youth.”

“Judgement day arrived for her,” Malin declared. “She paid.”

“Aye. You and your zealot priest made sure of that, even though our merciful God would have forgiven her when she repented.” The heat of condemnation Rowan felt blazing from his own eyes should have been enough to incinerate Malin. Manacled as he was, Rowan was powerless or he would have ripped his half-brother apart limb from limb. “’Tis my greatest wish to bring you to justice for your crimes, Malin.”

“Ha! That will never happen. You tried and you failed.” Malin moved to stand in front of him and delivered a stinging slap to his cheek. “You are pathetic. You’ll never escape from me, and even if you did, you have no evidence to bring me to trial.”

“Your trial has only been delayed, Malin. Justice will be done and you will pay for your sins.”

“You’re delusional,” Lord Blake remarked with scorn.

“The king is aware of the charges I brought against you, Malin. You only escaped his justice because you had the backing of the priest—a man who is now a known traitor. And, unsurprisingly, all the other witnesses to the murder had mysteriously disappeared.”

“I was thorough,” Malin boasted. “I always make certain never to leave any loose ends, Rowan.”

“You killed the witnesses.” ’Twas a statement, not a question.

“Did you really expect me to let them live?”

A few seconds of heavy, blistering silence fell, then Lisette’s voice rang clear, seeking clarification. “The priest you killed, Rowan. He was the zealot who shaved your mother’s head and ordered her drowned? The one who lied to protect Malin even though he knew that Malin had cut your father down in cold blood?”

“Aye.” He held her eyes and saw the relief in them as he uttered the single syllable of confirmation. What he saw was understanding in them and even the light of...approval?

“Then you brought justice where the law of the king could not. I do not condemn you for it and I am proud to call you husband just as I am certain my father did the right thing in protecting you.”

“How truly touching,” Malin jeered, giving a slow clap of his hands. “What a remarkably tender scene. It seems you have won her undying love. But then, she has not yet had the privilege of knowing me...not in the biblical sense.”

Rowan’s fists clenched. “I will kill you first.” He lashed out pointlessly, only succeeding in making the chains jangle—a bitter reminder that he was totally at his half-brother’s mercy.

Malin’s expression as he looked pointedly at the manacles that bound Rowan’s wrists, and the balls of iron that were attached to the chains at his ankles, was one of mock sympathy.

“Kill me,
dear brother
?” Malin laughed manically once again.  “I’m not sure quite how you expect to do that, but I’d like to see you try.”

“Now, the whip, Baron,” Lord Blake urged, his tone impatient. “Let the punishment begin and have this cur beg for mercy.”

“You’re right. It’s time and I’m in a particularly generous frame of mind. Would you like to give him the first lashes?”

“Nay. I’ll leave the physical torture to you. My reward will be having him watch as I have his wife suck on me long and hard. I will revel as he hears her cries as I poke her fast and deep.”

“I will die before I let you touch me,” Lisette declared.

“You will think you have died and gone to heaven, my dear. Then, when I let the rest of the men on you, you will wish you had.”

The first crack of the whip rang out as Malin flayed Rowan’s bare flesh. Lisette cried out in protest and moved a step toward him, but Lord Blake pulled her back and held her tightly against him. Rowan clenched his teeth together and tried to focus on his hatred to overcome the pain.

Malin counted each lash before he delivered it. He was up to ten and Rowan could feel the blood trickling down his back.

“No more!” Lisette cried. “Grant him reprieve and I will do whatever you ask.”

“Aye. I want him conscious to witness this,” Blake urged, “and I’ve waited long enough. On your knees, wench.”

Lisette dropped immediately to her knees and Rowan felt the beast of red-hot rage rise within him once again. Hatred flowed like molten lava through his veins. “Nay, Lisette. Do not do this!”

“I cannot bear to see them hurt you,” she told him, her blue eyes swimming with tears.

Lord Blake grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged hard, pulling her head toward his crotch. “Don’t even think for a second about using your teeth on me, or he will die immediately,” he warned.

“I will do naught to place his life in jeopardy,” she said tremulously.

“’I have thought many a night of teaching you to pleasure me in this way, Lisette,” Lord Blake admitted as he licked his lips. “Not so high-and-mighty now, are you?”

Rowan could not bear to watch as Lord Blake loosened the ties on his braies.

“Open your eyes, bastard, and watch as your wife takes me in her mouth,” Lord Blake ordered.

At that moment the door burst open and a knight of Baddesley rushed in. “My lords, the keep is surrounded by knights who bear the flags of Romsey and Winchester.”

“What?” Baddesley demanded. “How many are there?”

“We are sorely outnumbered, my lord.”

“Never mind about the wench now, Blake,” Malin declared impatiently. “Come to the ramparts with me and let us see what forces have arrived.”

Blake hitched his braies and hose back up over his arousal and cursed loudly.

Malin turned to the soldier who had manacled Rowan. “Put her in irons as well.” Then he gestured angrily to the other solider and ordered sharply, “You, stop standing around gawping and come with us.”

“My lord—” Lisette began to protest before she was pinned by the heat in Baddesley’s eyes.

“You may yet serve another purpose,” Malin told her.

“Don’t fret,” Blake told her. “I’ll be back for you soon enough. Next time I will finish what I started.”

The remaining guard approached Lisette as the two lords swept out of the room with the other soldier trailing after them.

“Don’t go causin’ no trouble now,” Lisette was warned as the soldier reached out to grab her arm.

Lisette darted away from him.

“There’s nowhere fer you to go,” the soldier warned.

“Don’t be a fool, man,” Lisette advised him. “This place is about to be overrun by the combined forces from Romsey and Winchester. The Earl of Romsey is the king’s first knight. Unshackle my husband and you will be rewarded.”

“Unshackle yer husband and I’ll be rewarded by being fed to the Brazen Bull as entertainment fer the rest of the men!”

Rowan cursed inwardly at his helplessness as he watched Lisette continually darting out of the guard’s reach. His admiration for his wife was great for he knew she would do everything in her power to get both of them out of this situation. This warrior wife of his had spirit. She was more courageous than many men who donned armour and rode into battle.

“We could keep this up for a long time,” Lisette told the guard, “But, you speak true.” The last words were breathed out with heavy resignation. Her shoulders slumped as she spoke to Malin’s soldier. “I should not expect you to place yourself in harm’s way when there would be such terrible consequences for you should the baron actually defeat the forces which threaten him.”

It seemed as though Lisette had accepted her plight so the soldier advanced toward her.

Lisette moved backward. She extended her arms in a gesture which begged him to stop. “I believe the forces of Romsey and Winchester will win this battle and I am prepared to wait for their rescue. If I don’t fight you, will you promise not to bind my wrists too tightly?” She pulled up the sleeves of her gown and Rowan took in an angry breath as he saw the awful discolouration of bruises and lacerations which marked her wrists. “’Tis just that they still hurt terribly from where I was bound before.”

The man hesitated. Rowan was sure ’twas the helpless appeal in Lisette’s voice that convinced him in the end.

“Awright,” the man agreed grudgingly. “’Tho if there isn’t no rescue yer’ll be sore all over by the time the men get through wiv yer.” He moved to bind her and she forestalled him again.

“And my feet are terribly sore,” she continued, undaunted. “I pray I may have your leave to remove my shoes?”

The guard’s lips thinned, demonstrating his impatience. For a second he eyed her suspiciously and Lisette capitalised on his attention by adopting a pleading expression that would have melted all but the hardest of men. The soldier weighed up her request. Evidently he judged that he had naught to fear as he nodded his agreement.

“Thank you.” Lisette delivered a smile that appeared sincere in its gratitude and Rowan frowned in confusion. He was flummoxed. ’Twas not in his wife’s nature to give up so easily. Just what did she plan?

Lisette turned her back on their guard, bent forward and began removing one of her boots.

“Oh!” She appeared to lose her balance slightly and stumbled backwards toward the guard. The next second she was close enough to ram her arm backward. The perfection of her aim earned Rowan’s appreciation as his wife’s elbow connected savagely and forcefully with the man’s groin.

The man cursed as he doubled over in agony.

Lisette seized the opportunity. She straightened quickly and grabbed for the whip which Malin had left behind. Giving the man no chance at all to recover, she raised the whip and brought the lashes down on his shoulders.

“Unsheathe your sword and dagger and drop them,” she demanded as he screamed. “Then, free my husband.”

The man struggled to stand upright. As Lisette raised the whip again he swore at her but hobbled toward Rowan and did exactly as she bade. Freed from the shackles and ball and chain, Rowan wasted no time in retrieving the man’s weapons and using the hilt of the sword to knock him out.

“You have quite a talent for that, my lord” Lisette observed drily, “I must remember not to incite you to rage ever again.”

Rowan placed a quick kiss on her lips. “I fear, my love, your memory will dim quickly.” He hoped all the love and admiration he had for her was obvious in the way he smiled at her. “But, after the talents you have displayed this eve in saving my life, and because I have realised you are my heart’s desire, I swear I will forgive you anything.”

“Your heart’s desire?” The wide-eyed expression she wore bespoke of her incredulity.

He raised his right hand up and across his bare chest, letting it rest over the area where his heart beat strongly. “You are my life,” he swore.

“Oh, Rowan.” Moisture gathered in her eyes.

“I speak true. I badly need to hold you to me, lady wife, but we must first get you to safety,” he declared, his voice vibrating with his need. “Then, I have a couple of scores to settle.”

Chapter 21

Lisette placed her hand in Rowan’s. The familiar warmth of his touch soothed nerves which had been frayed by her ordeal. The heat from his palm spread upward, pervading every cell until it curled around her heart as only the touch of a lover could. His strength was steadfast and comforting, offering her the protection she needed from her warrior husband. The knowledge that Rowan had proved his ability time and again with his courage and prowess on the battlefield, filled her with confidence that he would see them both to safety.

They had not progressed far before Rowan needed to call upon all his experience with the sword. Rounding a corner, four soldiers came toward them, their swords drawn.

“Stay behind me, Lisette,” he instructed, shielding her with his body as he charged forward.

Steel clashed against steel blade and metal sparks flew in a brilliant display of showering light as Rowan drove them back. With every strike of metal, her tension wound a little higher, especially as her husband did not have his normal protection of chain mail or armour plating. Her breath caught with every howl of pain she heard. She prayed fervently that Rowan would prevail. Every few seconds she glimpsed his attackers as Rowan raised his sword arm to cut down the soldiers of Baddesley or to fend off a blow. She craned her neck to peer ahead as his body lunged forward, but most of the time she was unable to see anything ahead as she was effectively shielded by the sheer breadth of his torso. The sight which confronted her was the flexing of Rowan’s muscles under the bleeding wounds left by Malin’s whip.

A cry of agony. Chaotic footsteps—some shuffling backwards, others staggering. A guttural, choking sound. The crash of a steel sword hitting the ground shortly before the thump of a body hitting the floor. All the sounds of battle coalesced into a frightening chorus, bouncing off the walls. Blessedly, Rowan was still standing when silence fell.

Gruesome images of contorted, pain-stricken men with bloodied bodies crowded her mind’s eye. She was thankful she had not witnessed the deaths of those who would have seen Rowan and her killed. ’Twas confronting enough to have to step over the fallen soldiers’ hacked bodies. ’Twas hideous to see the rivulets of blood which now traced through the joins in the stone floor as though the blood ran through veins.