Rexanne Becnel (6 page)

At such an insulting gesture Lilliane’s embarrassment fled. But when she tugged unsuccessfully to free herself, her anger began to rise.

“Is this the welcome all Orrick’s guests receive? Their belongings rifled through?” At the quiet menace in his voice she paused, suddenly less sure of herself.

Mutely she stared up the long muscular length of him. He was a big man, but as he towered above her, his arms folded sternly across his massive chest, he appeared enormous, and she shrank back from him in fear. With a sudden movement he bent down and snatched the packet from her lap, then handed it to a brawny knight who had followed him in.

“What’s this?” the other man exclaimed. “Has Orrick already loosened his pilfering horde upon us?”

“She may just be a pilferer. Or else a spy. But I’ll soon have the truth of it, Dunn.” So saying, Sir Corbett grabbed the back of Lilliane’s gown and lifted her rudely to her feet.

Faced with his sinister glower and the equally clear animosity of his companion, Lilliane fell back a step, her mind empty of any retort. Her heart was pounding painfully and a small bead of icy sweat trickled down between her breasts. All she could think was that this terrifying man was the one she would be forced to marry. That threatening realization shook her to her very core.

“Speak up, girl,” he ordered curtly. “What did you think to find by searching my belongings?”

“I … I only … It fell—” Lilliane stopped her babble abruptly. She took a deep breath. “I came in to prepare your bath and—”

“She has neither tub nor water,” the man called Dunn scoffed.

“They’re on their way,” Lilliane snapped back at him as her anger returned.

“That’s of no matter,” Sir Corbett cut in. “The fact is you’ve shown yourself to be a thief or, even worse, a spy. I’ll have neither in my household.”

“Your household!” Lilliane sputtered. “Your household! You’ve no rights to Orrick—”

“Hold your tongue!”

Sir Corbett’s thunderous command stilled her words momentarily, and it was during that quaking silence that a timid knock sounded.

Sir Corbett’s man opened the door with a jerk, and the group of servants in the hall seemed to tremble as they viewed the two warrior knights. Their mistress’s pale face did nothing to strengthen their resolve, and it was only the threat inherent in Dunn’s gesture for them to enter that prevented them from fleeing.

The silence in the room was dreadful. Dunn watched keenly over the procession of servants bearing tub, water, soaps, and bath linens. Sir Corbett, in contrast, ignored the rest and kept his eyes trained on Lilliane. Conscious of his steady stare, she fought to regain her composure.

Orrick was her home, she told herself. She understood the need to have a strong and just lord to see to its well-being. Neither Aldis nor Santon would do; she would not argue her father on that score. But neither would this hard and suspicious knight do, she vowed. Unable to prevent herself, she lifted her downcast eyes to him.

She was immediately sorry. Sir Corbett’s expression was no less forbidding. His tall, muscled form was no less threatening than before. But his dark eyes had cleared to an even gray and they were slipping now over her trim figure in interested scrutiny.

She’d been frightened of his anger before, but of a sudden Lilliane felt a far different sort of fear. Trying to restrain her panic, she clasped her arms tightly around her waist and licked her dry lips. But at precisely that moment Sir Corbett lifted his gaze from the fullness of her breasts to her face, and his eyes seemed to heat as he watched the swift darting movement of her small pink tongue.

She looked away at once. But it was only a matter of seconds before the servants were dismissed and she was once again alone with the two knights.

“See to your own quarters now,” the dark knight bade his man, although his eyes did not veer from Lilliane. “And see guards well posted in the camp.”

“I’ll make a pallet in the hall at your door.”

“It won’t be needed.”

“Damn it, Corbett! Isn’t this chit’s pilfering proof enough that it
is
needed?” Dunn stared balefully at Lilliane. “She may be a small enough threat, but think you that Orrick’s sons-in-law will take your presence here lightly?”

“Neither of them look to be much opposition. Besides, I think our curious little maid may prove quite a boon.” Sir Corbett smiled and revealed white even teeth. Yet Lilliane felt no relief at his smile; she was sure it bode ill for her.

“If you mean to bed her, it may be precisely what was intended.”

Corbett laughed out loud. “She would no doubt fit quite neatly beneath a man. But I’ve no intention of spoiling the marriage before it’s done. No.” He caught Lilliane’s wrist in his large palm and pulled her closer to him. “She shall assist me at my bath and nothing more.”

There was something in his touch that disturbed Lilliane, although his grasp did not actually hurt her. She tugged at his hand, trying vainly to be free, but he only caught her chin in his other hand and tilted her face up to his. “You’re the chit from this morning, aren’t you?” he asked. Then he turned to Sir Dunn without waiting for an answer. “She came tearing into the hall as Lord Barton and I sealed our pact. Rather bold for a mere serving wench, wouldn’t you say?”

The two men’s eyes met and Lilliane knew some understanding passed between them.

“Well, then, I leave you to your sport.” Dunn shrugged. “But bear in mind that she’s got the advantage. She no doubt knows exactly which way the wind blows. She’s on her home ground.”

“It’s my home ground now as well,” Sir Corbett countered. He released his hold on Lilliane and watched as she scurried across the room. “I’ll soon know which way the wind blows also.”

Lilliane had to fight down her panic as the other knight departed. As frightened as she’d been at being caught in such awkward circumstances, there was something in her that feared much more being alone with this tall, battle-hardened knight.

Nervously she started to identify herself, then stopped and gathered her courage. He thought her a servant? Well, she would just play the part and see where it might lead. It seemed he was a man who had an eye for a comely maid. If he should become too free with her, she might be able to convince her father that the great Sir Corbett of Colchester was no better than a common, lusty soldier. Certainly he was not worthy of being lord of Orrick!

She peered at him through partially lowered lashes. It would not be easy. He was inordinately tall with muscled arms and shoulders that would put even Orrick’s armorer to shame. But it was more than his physical strength that concerned her. There was a dangerous quality about him. She could not define it any better than that. She only knew he would not be a good person to have as an enemy.

Still, she reminded herself, they were already enemies. He might not recognize that fact, but she did. And she was fighting for her very life. She weighed the circumstances and decided. If she could prove him a dishonorable man, her father would have to break the betrothal. He would have to!

She was standing against the rough limestone wall. Sir Corbett had not moved a step closer to her, and yet when his smoky gray eyes swept over her she felt his gaze as profoundly as a long, lingering touch. To her chagrin she felt a blush heat her cheeks, and she wished devoutly that she could simply disappear into a crack in the wide plank floor.

“Whether a thief or spy, you are surely a pleasure for the eyes,” he commented quietly. Then he abruptly turned away from her and crossed the room to pull a velvet hanging back from one tall, arched window. He peered out into the late-afternoon sunlight.

“I should not be surprised that the ‘lady’ of the castle isn’t here to attend her guest.” He snorted. Then he shot her a sardonic look over his wide shoulder. “I’ll have my bath first, then you can unpack my belongings. Those two tasks should satisfy your curiosity fairly well.”

Lilliane almost snapped an angry retort back at him. Did he truly think she would assist him any further in his bath than seeing that everything he needed was at hand? But she wisely decided caution might be the better course, at least for now. Still, he must have seen the rebellious look in her stormy golden eyes, for his grin widened.

“You’ve a bold manner for a mere serving wench.”

“If you were familiar with Orrick you would know that I’m no ‘mere serving wench,’” she replied, unable to keep a note of belligerence out of her voice.

“Oh?” One dark brow lifted knowingly and his eyes seemed to take in every aspect of her appearance.

For a brief vain moment Lilliane wished she were dressed as befitted the lady of a castle. She knew her gown was serviceable at best, its soft blue long ago faded to drab gray. The linen that bound her hair was plain as well, and without even a wimple to add some dignity.

But then reason returned and she lifted her chin haughtily. She didn’t care what he thought. She would never care what anyone from Colchester thought.

Noting her arrogant expression, Sir Corbett’s eyes swept her willowy form, lingering at the soft white hollow of her throat then following the sweet curve of her jawline to meet her angry glare. “Any other maidservant would be shuffling around, never daring to meet my eyes, let alone argue with me. But you,” he said as he strolled toward her. “You dare much with the new lord of Orrick.”

He let his gaze drop to her breasts, then ever so slowly lower to her toes. She felt burned by his frank appraisal of her, and she bit her lip in vexation. Then his eyes made a leisurely return up her feminine form, pausing at her rose-hued lips before raising to her now-furious eyes.

“You must be Lord Barton’s … personal servant.” He grinned. “I’ll give him credit for good taste. But I should think he’d dress you in finer gowns if you treated him well. Don’t you treat him well?”

Although taken aback by his innuendo, Lilliane managed to respond in her iciest tone.
“I
treat him well enough. I’ll have you know the lord of this castle is an honorable man—”

“But a man nonetheless,” he taunted.

“No doubt he has his flaws,” she retorted angrily. “For instance, he was sorely mistaken when he selected such a base and lowborn fool as you for a son-in-law!”

It was the wrong thing to say.

In an instant he had her by the arms, and she was completely unable to break his grasp no matter how she struggled.

“You’d best take a care and not anger he who shall soon be your master.”

“You’ll never be my master.” She panted as she fought him. But he only clasped her against his broad chest until her breasts were pressed hard against him.

“Oh, I’ll master you, my pretty little maid. But which will be more effective?” He mocked her with a gleam in his dark eyes. “Strength or seduction?”

His face lowered and for a wild instant she thought he meant to kiss her. She tensed, determined to avoid him, and closed her eyes tightly. When he chuckled, however, then suddenly released her, her eyes flew wide open and she stared at him in surprise and suspicion.

His eyes were warmer now, lighted from within as from a low and smoldering fire. But his words, when he spoke, were as arrogant as before. “You’ve a fair face, and even that dreary gown cannot completely hide your soft, rounded form. But it’s your mistress I’ll be bedding. You’ll have to be satisfied with the old lord.”

Then he unbuckled his leather sword belt and set it aside. He sat down on an upholstered bench and stretched his long, muscled legs before him. “Help me to my bath. I’ve weeks of travel to wash away. And a new bride to impress,” he added sarcastically.

Lilliane did not respond at once. Her mind was working so quickly she did not know how to react. A part of her wanted to tell him in no uncertain terms what she thought of his appalling manners. He had been at Orrick but a few hours, and already he chased the serving maids. He didn’t even have the decency to wait until after the wedding. The fact that her father fully intended to marry her to this wretch and, further, considered him a man of honor was galling beyond belief. A knight indeed! This great grinning brute who sat before her most assuredly knew not one whit about chivalry!

But then that would be his undoing, she reminded herself.

With her resolve firm she faced the arrogant man. A faint smile played upon her lips. “It’s unlikely you can do anything that would impress the Lady Lilliane.”

He did not immediately respond and she realized he was staring at her softly curving mouth. Disturbed, she looked away, a frown returning to her face.

“It is no matter how particular she proves to be. She will submit to her husband’s will. Now come here and remove my tunic.”

It took all her willpower to hold her anger in check. Only by reminding herself of her goal to rid herself of him once and for all could she force herself to do as he ordered. Still, her reluctance must have been apparent, for when she stopped near his outstretched feet he grinned.

“Come closer. I’ll not bite you.”

Lilliane’s heart was racing in her chest as she edged closer. His gray eyes were steady on her, and she wondered what thoughts churned beneath their hooded surface. He did not move to make it easier for her, and it was with a frustrated sigh of resignation that she reached to loosen the silver-edged leather girdle at his waist.

She had to bite back an oath as her fingers fumbled with the buckle. Instead of acting cool and detached, she was trembling like a child and, what was worse, he was quite aware of it. When she finally had it unfastened, she pulled it from around his waist and hastily put it aside.

His tunic was next and he obligingly leaned forward to make her task easier. But if removing his belt had made her nervous, sliding the soft hide tunic over his shoulders rattled her completely. Like a living extension of him, the leather retained his body warmth. Lilliane nearly flung it away, she was so anxious to be free of the strange feelings it caused in her.

He looked up at her when she hesitated to remove his shirt, and she was sure it was amusement that sparkled in his eyes. “My shirt,” he prompted smugly. Then when she did not respond he grinned. “Remove my boots then.”