Sword for His Lady (15 page)

“You left a knife in my tent and she is gone!”

The squire offered no excuse. The men watching judged him wise, for Jacques wasn't known for his tolerance.

“Find a way into their confidence.”

The squire blinked. “My lord?”

“Take off my colors.”

His men stiffened.

“If you ever want to wear them again, get yourself taken in at Thistle Keep. I want to know everything Ramon de Segrave is doing. Everything my bride-to-be is doing.”

Ramon was gone in the morning.

Of course, it was because she'd slept long past sunrise. Isabel yawned and fought the urge to close her eyes again. She was weary, embarrassingly so, considering how long she had been in bed. Still, waking up wasn't simple. Her belly rumbled and she fought her way past the clouds of fatigue pressing her down. With a soft moan, she rolled over and sat up.

The moment she did, her eyes widened as pain went shooting through her. It raced along her side and through her belly, and a groan got past her lips before she clamped her mouth shut.

Being handled roughly did not agree with her, it seemed.

As
if
it
would
agree
with
anyone…

She shuddered; moving across more than just her skin, it felt as though it were soul deep. Her mouth went dry at the memory of Jacques's eyes when he'd looked at her.

The man was a demon.

No, she wouldn't give him that sort of hold over her. He was just a man. A bad one, but flesh nonetheless.

She shrugged into her over robe and combed out her hair. A sense of urgency was making her clumsy and the comb clattered to the stone floor.

There was a rap on the door before the small window set into it slid open.

“I will send your nurse up, lady.”

Isabel jumped but the man wasn't looking into the chamber. She caught only a glimpse of the back of his head before the window slid back into place.

There was someone guarding her door?

It prickled her pride. Yet, at the same time, she would be lying if she didn't admit that knowing the man was there calmed her.

She snorted as she picked up the comb.

She would not turn into a mouse, frightened of the world because of some misfortune. It was hardly the first time fate had delivered a blow that sent her reeling.

“Look at you…” Mildred said as she entered the chamber. “You should be in bed…what with the ordeal you've been through.”

“I have wasted enough daylight today,” Isabel said firmly. “Yet I am glad to have you here to tie my laces.”

She turned around so Mildred could secure her over gown, but her nurse was moving to the large chest sitting against the wall.

“You'll be wanting something finer for your wedding.”

Mildred fit one of the large keys hanging from her girdle into the lock on the chest. It groaned when she turned it; the chest hadn't been opened for a long time.

“I do not need any finery. There is not going to be a wedding.” Isabel wasn't certain she thought about the words before they crossed her lips. A shudder shook her again and she was very sure that she wanted nothing to do with being bound to a man in the eyes of the church.

“I would like to know the reason,” Mildred declared as she turned and propped her hands on her hips.

“As would I.”

Awareness rippled through her as Ramon's voice filled the chamber. His tone was low and tightly controlled. She turned to face him as he lifted his hand and gestured Mildred toward the door.

“Your mistress and I have important matters to discuss.”

Mildred started toward the door with a firm expression of agreement on her face.

“Wait… I need to be laced.”

“You slept in my embrace, Isabel. I am well aware of your body.”

She sucked in a harsh, shocked breath. She looked back at Mildred, beseeching her to remain, but her nurse paused in the doorway and sent her a stern look.

“'Tis best you come to an agreement,” Mildred said with a clear tone of expectation. She turned and the man guarding the door shut it.

“That was harshly spoken,” Isabel reprimanded. “More so than necessary, I think.”

“Not so if you intend to persist in your stubborn desire not to wed.”

Ramon was standing near the door. The sight of him sent a curl of heat through her belly.

Sweet
Mother
of
Christ! What would it take to end her lusting for the man?

Her cheeks burned scarlet when she answered her own question.

Ramon's dark gaze narrowed. “You blush for me, Isabel.”

“I know,” she conceded. She turned and walked away from him, feeling him too keenly.

He followed her, his steps slow and measured. “And you sought my embrace for solace and comfort.” He stepped to the side, blocking her path when she tried to go around him. “And I enjoyed having you against me.”

Her breath froze, her heart hammered inside her chest. His dark eyes were lit with determination and it stroked something inside her that felt very much like enjoyment. She had never felt so desired by a man before.

“Jacques Raeburn bought himself a baron's title. He will not be content with your escape. Voice your objections to our match. We must come to an agreement.” The glint in his eyes was a warning one. He was not in the mood to be bested by her.

“He bought it?” She shook her head with distaste.

“Aye.” Ramon's tone matched hers. “His men are brutal and often more like villains than Crusaders. But Richard cannot Crusade without gold. There are a great many sins that can be forgiven when money is being provided to keep the Crusades going. Thistle Keep is the next prize Jacques plans to add to his coffers. Why will you not wed me?”

“I have had a belly full of being a possession. A wife is the property of her husband. I would simply stay…free.” She should have been more cautious and held her tongue but with Ramon, self-control seemed nearly impossible. His eyes narrowed and guilt chewed on her. “You are right to think me harsh. Yet I cannot reconcile myself to wedding.”

He closed the remaining distance between them. “You are drawn to me.”

She shifted, overwhelmed by the way he saw through her. Her cheeks stung once more and her lips tingled with anticipation.

Drawn?…she craved him.

He chuckled and stroked one scarlet cheek. “There is but one way for this passion to cool, Isabel. I would wed you first. So neither of us need feel shamed by our passions.”

“You honor me…” But she shifted away, feeling trapped.

“Yet you do not trust me not to turn mean once the vows are consummated.” He wasn't asking her. She turned and discovered him watching her with a knowing look on his face.

“I know you feel it an insult for me to think such a thing, yet would you have me lie to you? I am being herded into this by fate and unkind circumstance.”

She was being bold and probably foolish for voicing her emotions. He was still strong, both in body and in the army he commanded. Many would advise her to make the best of her position.

To do so would allow her to indulge her cravings for him.

But
to
what
end?

She honestly didn't know.

“I would have you trust me,” Ramon said.

A memory surfaced.

“Do you trust me not to cuckold you as your first wife did?” she asked. “Or shall your man be posted to guard over me?”

Ramon drew in a sharp breath. “You are combining two issues to make your point. My man is posted because you disobeyed me and left the keep without an escort. Argue against the need and I will tell you to look at the scabs around your wrists.”

She looked down, unable to avoid looking at the dried blood on her wrists. Dark bruises decorated her forearms as well. She pressed her lips into a hard line of frustration.

“I have known you for only a short time. Why must you press me for vows? Can we not…court?”

“We are past the age of courting,” Ramon grunted. “I fight to keep my hands from you, more so because I see desire in your eyes to touch me back. I have never faltered, yet you test my devotion to not take you to my bed until our union is blessed.”

That wasn't what she'd expected to hear.

“You look surprised,” he said.

“I am,” she answered.

“You doubt your own appeal?”

She shook her head. “I am surprised how differently your admission makes me feel than Jacques's.”

Like night and day.

One made her flesh crawl, the other set her heart racing.

His lips twitched into a wolfish grin. He leaned forward and hooked his arm around her, pulling her into his embrace in a swift motion that left her breathless. She flattened her hands against his chest, feeling his hardened flesh. The faint vibration of his heartbeat teased her fingertips.

She didn't want to resist. “You test me, it's true, and I find it most pleasing.”

His expression became one of wonder. For a moment, it was as though she were seeing something that he hid from everyone else. It felt…intimate. Like a part of himself that he never showed because he couldn't appear needy.

She wanted to kiss him, the way Rauxana had kissed Jacques.

Ramon leaned down to press his lips against hers, cupping her nape, but Isabel smoothed her hands down his chest, stunning him. He hesitated for a moment, watching her. Something stirred inside her, a sensation she wasn't sure she understood.

But she liked it.

She stroked her way back to the center of his chest, shivering as her fingertips registered how hard his body was beneath his tunic. Ramon closed his eyes to slits, a rumble escaping his lips.

This time, the sensation was strong and it filled her with confidence. She smoothed her hand up to where his tunic ended and she was able to stroke his bare skin. He stiffened but lifted his chin so that she might trail her fingers along the firm column of his throat. His skin was smooth, and beneath it more firm muscle.

A pulse began to throb between her thighs, but this time she welcomed it because it only added to the passion sweeping her into something she craved.

Might it be ecstasy?

She didn't know what that was, but she couldn't stop.

Wouldn't stop.

She pressed herself up against him, shuddering at the hard contact. She refused to let her lower back curl away from completing the embrace. The contact was jarring, a soft sound rising from her as she discovered the hard shape of his member pressing against her belly.

It didn't leave her cold.

Not sure when she had closed her eyes, she opened them to discover Ramon watching her. His dark eyes glittered with passion but it didn't make her cringe. There was something else there, a need that somehow set them on equal footing.

Of course, such a thing was not possible, but she didn't want to think rationally. No, she didn't want to think; in fact, she was going to ensure that she didn't have to.

“Kiss me, Ramon.”

His lips parted in a satisfied grin before he tilted his head and leaned forward.

But he didn't give her what she'd asked for. He pressed a kiss against her jawline, then another and another. All of them soft, slow motions that twisted her insides. Impatience was welling up from that knot of need burning in her belly. She moved, rotating her hips as Rauxana had done.

She gasped as pleasure shot through her. Ramon lifted his head and studied her face.

“I would like to know the reason behind your new boldness, Isabel…” His gaze lowered to her mouth. “But I have not the discipline to listen to explanations just now.”

His grip tightened on her nape and he completed the kiss this time. The kiss was hard, but excitement leaped inside her. She mimicked his motions, taking his lead. He pressed her mouth open, growling when their tongues met for the first time. She shuddered but moved onto her toes so that she might kiss him hard in return. There was a desperation clawing at her, filling her with demands that were born from some instinct she hadn't realized she possessed.

It was sinful, but that only increased the enjoyment. She wanted to fling herself into the churning sensation and let it wring her until…until…something burst.

Ramon suddenly set her back, gripping her biceps and lifting her off her feet so that he could move her away from him.

“Enough.” His tone was clipped and harsh. “As I said, you test me to break my personal vows. I would honor you, Isabel, above all others.”

Isabel withdrew from him, the sting of rejection burning away some of her intoxication. But the look on his face fascinated her. She would never have thought him a man who struggled to maintain control. Yet in that moment, she clearly witnessed a conflict warring within him.

He craved her as much as she did him.

The knowledge was balm for the sting and fuel for the brazenness brewing inside her. “'Tis not enough,” she argued. “You promised me ecstasy.”

He cupped her shoulder firmly and turned her around. A moment later, he was threading the laces through the eyelets on the back of her over robe. The fabric groaned because he tugged on the laces so hard.

“We will wed first.”

Isabel turned to find Ramon trying to convince himself as well as her.

“Now, Isabel.” He held out his hand.

But she went cold. All of the confidence and boldness froze as she recalled the words of the law. Everything, even her body, would become his.

“I cannot.” She choked on the words.

He ground out a curse. “Would you have me dishonor you?”

She tried to look away, but he stepped closer and pressed her back against the wall.

“Would you have me raise your robes and satisfy myself between your thighs without a care for your honor?” he growled. “You want it. You want me inside you.”

“I do,” she whispered, feeling like the admission scorched her lips because it was so sinful.

“Wed me,” he demanded.

“I will become chattel again.” Misery was twisting through her because she could see no resolution. “It is not the same for you. A few days is enough time for you to know if I raise your passions, but it is not truly enough time for trust to grow. Admit you have no true trust in me. Not yet. We barely know each other.”