battlements was one thing, climbing back onto the narrow, crenellated edge of it
quite another. She could do it, but she was too unwieldy in shape just now to
make it a safe undertaking.
There was the large trapdoor in the chapel roof, however, near her feet. It
allowed men up here during an attack, to shoot arrows from the cover of the
crenellations. It dropped down about twenty feet to the chapel, but required a
ladder to be used. Twas the only entry to these battlements aside from her
window.
No ladder would be there now, she knew, but she threw open the door anyway and
leaned over to look down. Father Paul was not likely to be there either this
late of the morn, but she called his name anyway. As expected, there was no
response, so she merely shouted ?Help!? instead.
That got her more response than she wanted. A servant came running into the
chapel, but he was no more than a boy, and all he did was stare up at her in
amazement. And before she could tell him to fetch a ladder, Gilbert was climbing
out on the window ledge with sword in hand.
?Move back!? he shouted at her just before he jumped straight to the wall walk.
But Rowena did not move, too paralyzed with fear that his appearance meant
Warrick was dead. He bumped into her when he landed, not hard, but enough to
send her back a few feet. He was already weary from fighting Warrick. One of his
legs buckled as he landed on the stone walk, and he fell toward the roof. But
his knee came down right into the opening of the trapdoor. That threw him even
more off balance, and he would have fallen right through the hole, but his belly
struck hard against the edge of the trap, holding his body there. He had been
hurt, the breath knocked out of him, his sword skidding across the roof, yet he
was able to climb out of the hole easily enough.
And Rowena just stood there, numb with the thought that Warrick was dead. She
made no move to push Gilbert through the hole while she had the chance, no move
to get his sword and toss it over the wall. She just stood there, spellbound
with horror? until Warrick landed right in front of her.
She shrieked in startlement, moved back yet again, coming up against the low
wall behind her. He just grinned at her in reassurance, then went right after
Gilbert, who had already retrieved his sword.
Her relief was cut short by another pain, not as sharp as the others, but deeper,
and worse for that. She ignored it, however, watching the two men hacking away
at each other.
They moved back and forth across the small area. Rowena moved out of the way
when necessary, careful to avoid the trapdoor, which was still open, as well as
the swinging swords. More pains came that she continued to ignore. But finally
the fight was confined to the area opposite the trapdoor, so she was able to
move to it to find out what was keeping help from arriving. Help had come. More
servants were below, grouped around the altar cloth they were holding, and one
shouted up for her to jump.
Idiots! She was not a lightweight to go bouncing on altar cloths. She would rip
that thin cloth in twain, if it did not rip out of their hands with her landing.
Either way, she would end up flat on the stone floor, most likely dead.
But suddenly the choice was taken out of her hands as the fight came back her
way. Gilbert backed into her unawares, shoving her right into the hole. She
screamed as she felt naught but air beneath her feet. He turned and grabbed her
with his free arm, but her extra weight caught him off guard, and he had to drop
his sword to use two arms to keep her from disappearing through the hole. He
turned his back on Warrick to do this, with no thought other than of saving
Rowena.
She held on to him for dear life, and was too shaken to release him even after
she was yanked away from the hole and had purchase for her feet again.
Warrick, forgotten for the while, brought himself back to mind.
?Step away from her, d?Ambray.?
The inherent threat in those words, as well as the sword point that came across
Rowena?s shoulder to press against Gilbert?s chest, was incentive to do as told.
But Gilbert did not release her, his hands tightened on her instead, and Rowena
knew him well enough to know where his thoughts were going.
?He will not believe a threat to my life after you have just saved it,? she told
him.
The expression those words brought to Warrick?s face was almost comical in its
frustration. Rowena turned in time to see it and was disgusted in reading it
correctly. He truly did not wanf to let Gilbert go now that he had him, but to
kill him now would not be part of their knightly code of fair exchanges. A saved
life was always worth a just reward. But this life in particular Rowena still
found despicable. If Warrick had to turn forgiving, could he not have waited a
few more Forgiving? Warrick? Had the vengeful dragon of the north really changed
that much?
He had, but he was not exactly happy about it himself. His snarl was less than
gracious as he lowered his sword.
?I give you your life do you trouble me no more.?
Gilbert had never been one to thumb his nose at a golden opportunity.
?Give me back Ambray as well.?
Rowena gasped at Gilbert?s audacity.
?Nay, Warrick, do not! He does not deserve?
?/ will decide what your life is worth, Rowena,? Warrick cut in.
?As it happens, a castle nay, a hundred castlescannot compare with what you mean
to me.?
Not very romantically put, to be compared to stone edifices, but ?twas the
meaning behind the words that counted and rendered her speechless, long enough
for Warrick to tell Gilbert ?You would have to swear vasselage to me.?
Gilbert did not hesitate, amused at the irony of having Warrick sworn to protect
him.
?Done. And Rowena?
The sword came back up, and Warrick?s expression was now dangerous rather than
just chagrined.
?Rowena will be my wife once she agrees. In either case, she will never be in
your care again. Tempt me not to change my mind, d?Ambray. Take what I offer and
count yourself fortunate that I no longer require absolute vengeance.?
That got Rowena released, and she was snatched immediately into Warrick?s arms.
The hard contact brought along another pain, however, to remind her that she had
no more time for their squabbles.
?If you two are finished, my daughter would like to be born now, Warrick, and
not out here on the battlements.?
Both men just stared at her in bemusement, so she added with a lot more volume,
?Now, Warrick!? and got better results. Panic, actually. Verily, men were
ofttimes useless?
Chapter 48
?And what was that swearing about after ?twas over?? Mildred wanted to know as
she laid the baby in Rowena?s arms.
?You did good, my sweet one. He is the veriest angel, the veriest?
?He should have been a she/?
Rowena grumbled, though she could not hold her sour expression once she looked
down at her precious, golden haired baby.
Mildred was chuckling.
?You cannot still be holding that grudge. Look how many
months you made the man
suffer. I felt so sorry for him.?
?You did not,? Rowena countered.
?You were the only one who did not try to get me to change my mind.?
?Only because I knew your stubbornness would dig in its heels even deeper with
any more pushing. There was no reasoning with you on the subject. You had to
figure out for yourself that the man loves you. But did you have to make him
wait until the last minute to wed him??
?Wait?? Rowena said incredulously.
?He did not fetch the midwife, he fetched the priest! And none of them would
leave until they had an ?aye? from me. That was blackmail. That was?
?Pure stubbornness on your part. You knew you were going to wed him. You just
had to make him suffer right to the end.?
Rowena snapped her mouth shut. Arguing with Mildred these days was like pulling
hairs. She lost a lot of hair.
Of course, she was just being stubborn. The man had been willing to die for her.
No grudge could hold up against that.
?Where is myhusband??
?Waiting without to see his son. Do I show him, or will you??
Not waiting for an answer, Mildred was already walking to the door to bring
Warrick in. Then he was there, looking down at her with such warmth and pride in
his eyes that the last of her animosity fled. She did love him, after all. That
had been made clear to her in so many ways long before she?d left him that it
was useless to deny it any longer.
She smiled shyly up at him.
?What do you think of him??
Warrick had not even looked at the baby yet. He did now, but his eyes came right
back to hers, and there was humor in them.
?I trust his looks will improve with time??
She looked down at her son in alarm, but was soon chuckling.
?There is naught wrong with the way he looks. He is supposed to be red and
wrinkly.?
?What happened to the daughter you hoped to give me??
She flushed, then grinned.
?I believe I finally got lucky, my lordnot to get that particular wish.?
He sat down on the bed to surprise her with a kiss.
?Thank you.?
? Twas not so difficultwell, mayhap a little.?
?Nay, I thank you for marrying me.?
?Oh,? she said, filling with such warm feelings she felt like laughing.
?That was actually? my pleasure.?
That got her another kiss, one not so tender.
?You are no longer angry with me??
?Nay, but if you ever send me to your dungeon again?
?I no longer have one. ?Twas torn down after you came here to Tures.?
?Why did you do that?? she asked in surprise.
? Twas an unbearable reminder of what I had done.?
?But you had reason, Warrick. Even I can?
?Do not make excuses for me, wenchor have you so soon forgotten the words you
threw back at me??
He was serious, but there was self mockery there, too.
?Very well, suffer a little longer if you must. But ?twas a waste of a good
dungeon do you ask me.?
Her sigh made him chuckle.
?Mayhap I did act too hastily. I can always have it excavated again.?
?You had better not, my lord/? she warned with mock fierceness.
?Then if I ever find the need to lock you in my solar again! will be sure to be
locked in with you.?
?Now that I will not object to.?
?So you are still a brazen wench??
?You do not mind my brazenness.?
?Nay, I do not.?
?And you love me.?
?All right, I love you.?
?Do not say it as if you are indulging me.
You do love me, Warrick. How can you not when j
?
?I do love you, wench.?
That sounded much better, so much better she drew him down for another kiss,
then the soft whisper ?I am glad ?twas you, Warrick. So glad.?
He remembered those words, spoken so long ago, and admitted finally ?So am I, my
lady. So, too, am I.?
Johanna Lindsey, Prisoner of My Desire
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