The Tempest (7 page)

Being there beside him, feeling the sensual tension so heavy between them, she could hardly breathe. Needing fresh air, wanting to gather her senses, she rose to her feet. She did not look at him directly, but she could see from the corner of her eye how his expression had changed slightly. His brow was raised in curiosity, his eye looking her up and down.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She gave a little cough, to clear her throat and reclaim her voice.

“It will soon be dawn, my lord. I must see to chores before my father wakes. Perhaps it is wise that you return to your bed and rest.”

She turned away from him. Then she felt a sudden and sharp tug of her hand, and before she could react she was falling backwards. In a moment more she was looking up into his eyes. His nose was but a fraction away from touching hers. And his arms were holding her tightly, pressing her firmly against his muscular chest.

“You should warm my bed. It would be a better cure than any witch’s brew you could concoct.” His lips were nearly touching hers, the heat from his body intoxicating. She felt her body aching in places…aches of a kind she hadn’t felt in so long. And they were crying out for fulfillment.

“Did your husband satisfy you, Cassia? Was he capable of giving a woman like you what you truly need?”

At the mention of her husband, something suddenly went cold within her. What was she doing? Just minutes ago, she had reminded herself how he was with women…how he used and forgot them without regard. If she let this moment linger, she knew she would only become another casualty. Giving his body a hard shove, she pushed him away and came to stand before him, defiant and angry.

“I am not a whore, Guy of Gisborne. If that is all you seek, you will not find it with me.”

Snatching up her cloak, she stormed towards the door. Just before she went out, she turned to him, eyes narrowed. He was staring into the fire, but she knew he was listening.

“Drag yourself back to Nottingham and find a willing wench to serve your needs. And after you are done with your disgusting bit of rutting, I hope she curses you with a pox!”

With that she slammed the door, the sight of him too much to bear for another moment.

*****

If it weren’t for the pain in his foot, he would have followed her. Sitting there, staring into the fire, his mouth curled wickedly as he imagined cornering her in some way, blocking any exit. Approaching her slowly, seeing her anxiety slowly changing to longing and desire. Then he would lean in, his hands at either side of her head, preventing escape. But by now, she wouldn’t want to get away. She would look up at him, those brilliant dark eyes of hers shining with passion. Then he would claim her with a deep kiss, savoring the taste of her.

Lord! The woman was utterly bewitching, and the deliciously painful ache between his legs seemed to confirm it. She might have been a low-born peasant, but he couldn’t recall ever wanting a woman so badly. And not a woman who feared him, or despised him…as Marian had.

Why hadn’t he ever listened to that small warning voice, the one warning him of her duplicity? He’d always been suspicious of her actions. And yet, all she had ever needed to do was to smile at him, to reach out her hand to him the slightest touch, and he’d lost all control of his senses.

But in hindsight, was it really love he’d felt for her? Or had it been nothing more than the thrill of the conquest? He’d relished the thought of possessing a woman that belonged to his enemy. He’d fantasized about taking her to the marriage bed, bringing her to such heights of passion that the image of Locksley would be forever erased from her mind. And he had come so close to attaining his goal.

Or so he had foolishly believed.

She’d devoted herself, body and soul, to Robin Hood. Even if he
had
married her, taken her to himself and made her his own, who would she have seen when she closed her eyes?

Her image was there in his mind. But suddenly it began to change. Green eyes became almost black. The voluptuous curves became slender, her breasts smaller but no less tempting. Her hair became less black and more brown…lustrous and soft…and he longed to run his fingers through it to know it’s texture. Then there was the one aspect of difference that couldn’t be seen on the surface. The one aspect that kept him from fully merging the image of two women into one.

Except for her father, Cassia swore loyalty to no one…especially not to Robin of Locksley.

Good God, it was an exhilarating thought…to imagine having a woman who was nearly his equal. Her station in life was too low to consider her in marriage…at least in the eyes of the law…but she would make a delightful mistress.

Having her as a mistress would give him all that he craved, without the trappings and expectations of having a wife. Marriage was a permanent binding, most often severed only by death. A mistress was an interim relationship, which he could end whenever he preferred. Although, he couldn’t see himself losing interest in Cassia in any small amount of time. Despite their differences in station, there was much they shared in common. A proud, stubborn nature for one. A shared loathing of certain ideals, for another. Then there was the matter of being alone…a hell of a thing for two people to have in common.

But there was one point of sharing that was foremost in his mind, and it made his smirk become a full and devilish grin. Folding his hands against his chest, he stretched out his legs and leaned his head back, feeling quite smug as he thought of it.

She wants me, as much as I want her
.

He knew that look in a woman’s eyes. He’d seen it in the faces of countless women. But Cassia wasn’t some easy piece of flesh to be had. She wanted him, but she wasn’t going to give in easily.
Obstinate little minx
. It would take some clever plotting, and maybe a bit of time, to bring her around. But what else did he have besides time?

Over the week that followed, Cassia began to wonder if she’d made a mistake in giving her patient a pair of crutches.

Now that he had some independence, Guy was not content to be idle. Refusing to wear the long nightdress he referred to as a “wretched garment,” he now wore his own clothes again…and he took advantage of his mobility. He hardly remained in his room, except to sleep. His preferred choice of location seemed to be a chair near the front room fireplace, where he often just sat and observed. And quite often, even when her father was in the same room, she felt Guy staring at her with a certain look. A dark, lustful look. And no matter how she tried to ignore him, he seemed intent on making her uneasy.

Most troublesome of all was the change in his mood. He was not as dark as before. His scowling became less frequent, usually reserved for his moments of pain. Now he seemed almost relaxed, as if he were making himself at home. Even when making demands, which he still did frequently, he no longer bellowed in rage. Instead, he said what he wanted and sat back with an air of expectancy. Robert wasn’t sure what to make of his strange behavior. But after several days of silently tolerating his new way of being, Cassia felt she must speak to him of it.

“Do not become so comfortable, Sir Guy. It will not be long before you are able to return to your own life. And when you do, then we shall gladly return to ours.”

Even as she said it, trying to be stern, there was something about her own words that troubled her. One thing was certain. When Guy left…and as she’d said, it wouldn’t be long now…they would have their lives back.

But things would never be the same again. And the thought of it became more painful as that time began to draw near.

*****

A scuffle on the floor behind him made Guy scowl, for he knew it wasn’t Cassia, who had stepped outside to send to something.

It was her father, who seemed to become more surly towards him with each passing day. Robert wanted him away, and wasn’t shy about expressing his wishes, even if it wasn’t said in so many words. The few words he did say were brief and to the point, spoken at times with a bit of a harsh overtone. And though he’d ignored it at first, Guy was beginning to grow a bit tired of the old man’s disrespectful attitude. Robert DeWarren, after all, was only a commoner. He watched as the old man brought in a plate of bread and cheese. As he pulled a small table near Guy’s chair, placing the tray of food on it, Guy could see the man’s slight scowl of displeasure. But being in an almost agreeable mood, thanks to pleasurable thoughts about Cassia, Guy disregarded the air of contempt. Glancing at Robert, he let out a deep breath, speaking silently to himself.

You and your daughter brought me here. Now you must contend with me whether it pleases you or not.

“I want a cup of wine. Fetch me some.”

Robert looked up, his eyes darting in confusion at the sudden demand. “I am sorry, my lord Gisborne. We have no more wine to speak of.”

Guy snorted in displeasure. Then a thought came to him…a perfect way to remove Robert not only from his presence for a time, but from the house altogether. With that bit of distraction removed for a while, Cassia would have to stay nearby, should he need anything…and the thought of that made him quite pleased. But he kept his tone sharp in speaking to Robert, who had turned to leave.

“Where are my things? The ones you took from me when you brought me here?”

“In a trunk, my lord. For safekeeping.”

“Fetch me the purse that was on my belt. Unless you have stolen it and pocketed the contents.”

Robert looked nervous, as if expecting to be accused of treachery whatever his response should be. Still he answered.

“No, Sir Guy, it was not touched.”

“Then go and get it, and make haste.”

Robert nodded slightly, leaving the room. When he returned, he held the velvet bag out to Guy, who pushed it back to him.

“Take it into the village and purchase the wine. What remains, you may keep, so long as you do not speak of my generosity. It will be your neck if you do.”

Looking skeptical, Robert remained rooted to where he stood…until Guy glared at him, growing impatient with the old man’s seeming dumbness.

“What are you waiting for? Be gone.”

A moment passed, and Robert reluctantly went. Donning his cloak, he made for the door just as it opened, and Cassia nearly ran right into him. Guy watched father and daughter, seeing the concern in Cassia’s expression. Worry over her father‘s troubled expression, or worry that he was in traveling garb, seemingly leaving her on her own?

“Father, where are you off to?”

Robert tightened the collar of his cloak. “The village, daughter. I must go to market.”

“But there is a chill in the air. Can it not wait?”

“It is a sunny spring morning. I will be well.” He reached out and gave her cheek a gentle pat, turning to go. But she touched his arm, stopping him.

“Wait, father, before you go. May I have a word?”

Guy watched them, and hearing that they would speak in private, he wondered what Cassia was up to. Straining his ears to listen, he caught only a few words, but it was enough for him to decipher that she didn’t want to be left alone with him. The revelation of her concern made him smirk.

Apprehensive about being alone with me, are you Cassia? As well you should be. And you well know why. You fear your own weakness.

When Robert left, Guy looked at Cassia, who stood in the doorway with her arms folded. She glared at him, but he only smirked at her.

“All alone, are we? Hmmm. I wonder what we shall do to pass the time?”

Cassia’s answer was fast and firm. “Sleep, Sir Guy. And you will do so alone, as will I.”

He clucked his tongue at her, wagging his head. Reaching for a hunk of bread, he brought it to his mouth and chewed it slowly, never taking his eyes from her. “Would you like to share a meal with me, Cassia? There is plenty here for two.”

She shook her head. “No, I would not. I am tired, not hungry.”

She was a stubborn little thing…he had to give her that. And the struggle she was putting up was becoming more amusing by the minute. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so entertained.

“There is room in my bed, you know. Although sleeping is not exactly what I had in mind.”

Her eyes narrowed at his insinuation.

“You are nauseating. I will find ample rest in the barn loft, thank you. And now that you can move about somewhat, you can manage alone for a small amount of time. I am in great need of sleep after sitting with you all night.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head again. “You would rather lie with vermin than with me?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he knew she was about to give one of her pointed remarks. She did not disappoint.

“Vermin in the hay, vermin in the hou. One is no different than the other. Except that the ones in the barn do not speak.”

He only chuckled at her jibe as he watched her go. It wouldn’t be long before she was back. She couldn’t remain out of doors forever. And in the meantime, he did indeed find himself growing heavy-eyed. Finishing his meal, he took up his crutches and made his way back to bed. Lying back on the pillows, he smiled to himself. After a good bit of sleep, he would be able to think clearly. Then he would be able to decipher what the next move in this game would be.

*****

Later that afternoon as he woke, he sensed a presence in the room. He smiled slightly and mumbled, his voice still sleepy.

“You could not stay away, could you?”

He rolled over to face her, feeling a stirring in his senses…and he might as well have been doused with cold water.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded, looking upon the dour face and large frame of an old woman…and an ugly one at that. She was so thin of hair he could see her scalp in places. Her nose was long and pointed…and her thick-fingered hands were planted on her hips as she looked down at him.

“Hello, you scrawny, smelly little booby. You may call Sophie, if you choose to give me my name, though I am certain you will call me much worse before the day is out.” She wrinkled her nose at him, looking quite displeased. “No wonder Mistress Cassia wants naught to do with you in this state. She’s beseeched me to clean you up proper. And seeing how she saved me and mine from a grave sickness last spring, I believe I must return the favor. So come on now. Up with you.”