Midnight Warrior

  “Which leaves me with no servant to cleanse me,” Gage said softly. “It appears you’ll have to take her place.”

  “I have no objection to the service,” she replied, taking Alice’s place. “You know it is only custom. If Adwen was well enough, she would cleanse you herself.”

  “Would she? I don’t recall you mentioning Lady Adwen. Though I should not be surprised when you also forgot to mention a husband.”

  “Lord Richard told you that I was brought to Redfern to tend his wife.”

  “But you did not tell me about her. Not one word. What a secretive woman you are, Brynn of Falkhaar.” He leaned back in the tub. “Take off your gown and climb into the tub.”

  She went still. “Why?”

  “You have an odor about you I don’t like. I wish it gone.”

  Perhaps the foul smell of that stable sickroom still clung to her. “I’ll wash later.”

  “Now,” he said with emphasis.

  She stood up, pulled the gown over her head, and dropped it on the rush-strewn floor, then slipped out of her shoes. “It could not be so offensive, or I would smell it myself.”

  “Perhaps I’m more sensitive to it. Get in the tub.” “There is no room.”

  He gestured to his lap. “I’ll make room.”

  She hesitated and then surrendered. He would not be dissuaded and she would do better to save her energy for the more important battles that seemed to be cropping up all over the horizon. She slowly climbed into the tub. The water was very warm, almost hot as she sank beneath the surface and settled on his lap.

  “That’s right.” He arranged her legs on either side of his brawny thighs. “Now, that’s not uncomfortable, is it?”

  “No.” It was a lie. This helpless position made her as uneasy as the silk-coated menace in his voice.

  He reached around her with the cloth and began scrubbing her back with a circular motion.

  “What are you doing? You told me to cleanse you.”

  “Soon. You’re very tense. Why?”

  “You know why. You’re angry. It is surely a natural response.”

  He pressed her head into the hollow of his shoulder and lifted her hair. “Do you know that your hair feels like no other woman’s? Thick and silky … and alive. If I touched only this mane in the darkness, I would know it was you.” He began to scrub the nape of her neck. “Your muscles here are tied into knots. Do you fear me, Brynn?”

  “No.” The word was muffled.

  His arms suddenly contracted around her. “Then you should. I want to break you.”

  “I’ve found it’s a common impulse for a man to want to destroy a woman.”

  “Not for me. It never happened to me before I encountered you.” He was silent a moment and then asked softly, “Did he take you?”

  “Delmas?”

  “Who else? Unless you have another husband crawling around this damnable place.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then, tell me pray, did he throw you down on the ground when you reached that stable and take you?” Each word was spaced with careful, lethal precision.

  “No.”

  A little of the tension ebbed from him. “I will not have you lie to me in this.”

  “I don’t lie.”

  “You didn’t tell me about him. Omission can also be deception.”

  She was abruptly tired of his questions and accusation. “I didn’t tell you about him because he didn’t matter. I had enough to worry about without bringing up subjects that didn’t concern you.”

  “You take your holy vows lightly.” He paused. “It’s just as well. I believe I’ll rid you of this husband who you say does not concern me.”

  “No!”

  Gage pounced. “So he does matter? You have a fondness for him?”

  “I detest him, but I will not have him slain. I will not have that sin on my shoulders.”

  He bent down and kissed the hollow where her shoulder met her neck. “They’re very lovely shoulders and you will have nothing to do with it. I assure you, I will hardly notice one more sin staining my soul.”

  “You will not do it.” She started to struggle. “Do you hear me? I will not have it.”

  “Be still.” He effortlessly quelled her movements. “Don’t move. I don’t want to hurt you too.”

  Violence again. “Why?” she asked wildly. “He has done nothing to offend you.”

  “Hasn’t he?” He suddenly pushed her away and his eyes blazed down at her. “It offends me that the fool thinks you belong to him because a priest murmured a few words over you. It offends me that he has used your body as I have and that he knows you. It offends me that he exists.” His hands tightened on her arms. “Oh, yes, he has greatly offended me.”

  “So you would kill him to rid yourself of the sight of him?”

  “Why not?” He smiled recklessly. “I’ll sweep him out of your life as I would have washed his touch from your body.”

  He meant it. “It would be a sin,” she whispered. “Life is a great gift. It should never be stolen away. I have no affection for Delmas, but I couldn’t bear to be the cause of his death.” Tears were suddenly rising to her eyes. “I heal. I don’t destroy. It would be … I could not bear it.”

  “Stop weeping,” he said roughly.

  The tears continued to fall.

  “It also offends me that you weep for him.”

  “I’m not weeping for him.”

  “Then stop it. Why do you always weep?”

  “Do you think I wouldn’t stop if I could? Look to yourself. I have wept more in the weeks I’ve known you than in all the years before.”

  “Damnation.” He scowled. “Stop crying and I won’t touch the vermin … now.” He cradled her face in his big hands. “But you will not see him or talk to him. He will not touch you. You will not even mention his name or I’ll slit him from loin to throat.” His mouth covered her own, his tongue pushing deep in the moist cavity to toy and play with a wild urgency he had never shown her. It was as if he were starved and could not get enough. He lifted his head and said fiercely, “You belong to me. No one else. Only to me.”

  He was reaching between them, parting her thighs, adjusting their positions.

  She cried out as he plunged deeper. “Only to me.” He held her hips, sealing himself within her. He was breathing harshly as his hands opened and closed on the softness of her flesh. “I wanted to kill you when I saw you meekly follow him into the stable. I’ve been sitting here thinking of all the things he was doing to you.”

  “I told you—” Fullness. Warm, hard, rigidity. She could scarcely speak. “He—did nothing.”

  “I believe you. Which is the reason he may live a little longer.” He lifted her and then brought her with painstaking slowness down on the length of him. Again. Again. Again.

  It was too slow. She was gasping, her hands reaching out blindly to him. “Gage … it is …”

  “Do you like the way I fit you?”

  “Yes …” He was sealed to her again, and she contracted desperately, trying to keep him within her.

  It was of no avail. He lifted her again and began the same slow, sensual journey. “Better than your pretty Lord Richard? Better than that worm of a husband?”

  “I did not like—” She bit her lower lip as the controlled friction sent a bolt of heat through her. “Much better. It is not the same.…”

  “Then forget them.” He crushed her in his arms and then reached down to cup her buttocks. “They’re out of your life.” He began bucking upward with frantic force as his hands moved her to a joint rhythm.

  Warm, smooth water flowing over her.

  Gage’s solid heat within her.

  She heard little helpless cries issuing from her throat as the fiery tension built.

  “Yes,” he whispered. “Moan. Cry out. Let me hear you.”

  She could do nothing else. Everything within her was rising, exploding, and must be freed.

  It was free, re
leasing with such power that she could only gasp and hold on to him as if he were her only anchor.

  He was still moving, muttering in her hair, “You see, mine. Mine …”

  “No.”

  A great shudder rippled through him as he gave her his seed. His grasp involuntarily tightened around her. She knew he did not mean to hurt her, but she would have bruises tomorrow.

  He leaned back in the tub, his eyes closed, his breath coming harshly. “Stubborn …” He suddenly rose to his feet and lifted her out of the tub.

  The movement startled her. “What—”

  He was striding across the room toward the bed. “I’m weary of coupling with you everywhere but on a bed.…”

  “We’re still wet,” she protested.

  “Well dry and I promise you’ll not be allowed to rest long enough to grow cold.” He laid her down and his huge body followed, covering her. His hand slid between her thighs.

  “You cannot want me again so soon.”

  Two fingers sank deep. “No, I want you to want me. I want you to want and be appeased and want again.” His tongue caressed her ear as he began to leisurely stroke her. “And sometime before this afternoon is over, you will say you belong to me.”

  “No …” she said desperately. “I will not.”

  “Yes.” He lowered his head and his warm tongue lightly caressed her nipple. “Oh, yes, Brynn, you will.”

  “I did not mean it.” Brynn stared out the window at the setting sun. “It was not true.”

  He pulled the cover over her breasts and then pushed her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “It was true. You were most convincing.”

  Heat stung her cheeks. “It was you. You would not let me—you made me do it.”

  “Didn’t you receive pleasure?”

  “Yes, but you … it was not true.”

  His hand possessively caressed her breast beneath the cover. “I won’t argue with you.”

  Because he considered himself the victor. She should never have said those words. During those moments of madness she had felt part of him, magically completed, but she should have resisted that confession. Even though she had now regained her senses, that it had happened made her feel vulnerable. It was dangerous to feel so close to someone when she must always stand apart.

  “Who is Selbar?”

  “What?”

  “You said Selbar was the only one you trusted. I want to know about him.”

  She didn’t want him to know about Selbar. Selbar was part of Gwynthal, part of what she was, and must be guarded against any invader.

  When she didn’t answer, Gage muttered a curse and then asked, “Did your father give you to Delmas in marriage?”

  She tensed despite the quietness of his words. They were not layered with that possessive rage that had been there before when he had spoken of her husband. “No, my father left my mother and me when I was little more than a child.”

  “Why?”

  “My mother was like me and he could not bear it.”

  “Like you?”

  “She was a healer.”

  “I can see how his life would be in constant turmoil if your mother insisted on sleeping with all the men she healed.”

  “It was not—there was more.”

  “What?”

  She did not answer.

  To her surprise, he did not pursue the subject. “Then it was your mother who gave you to Delmas?”

  “No.”

  “A male relative?”

  “No.”

  He stiffened, and his tone was once more laden with soft menace. “He was your choice?”

  “He was not my choice. I had no choice. I was forced to wed Delmas.”

  “Who forced you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “I will know, Brynn.”

  She could not tell him everything, but perhaps he would be satisfied with what little was safe to reveal. “Delmas forced me to wed him.”

  “How?”

  “Delmas was slave to Lord Kells and when Lord Kells came to Kythe to visit his brother, Lord Giles, he brought Delmas with him.” She closed her eyes. “After it happened, Delmas found me in Kythe forest. He told me later that he had searched for two days to find me.”

  “After what happened?”

  She had known she must say the words, but they still came hoarsely. “After they burned my mother.”

  He went still. “Lord Giles?”

  “No, the villagers. Lord Giles had no animosity toward my mother. She had healed many of his household. It was the villagers who feared her. They called her witch and blamed her for every wickedness that occurred in Kythe. She was not a witch. She was good and God-fearing.” She swallowed. “She wanted only to help them, as was her duty.”

  “And they burned her for it.” He asked thickly, “Did you see it?”

  “Yes, they made me watch. I was going to the same fate on that stake the next day.” Flames. Screams. Helpless agony. “It took a long time for her to die.

  “They locked me in our cottage and Bilwak, the cobbler, stood guard outside. Sometime during the night, the guard was lured away and the door unlocked. I thought it might be Lord Giles, but Delmas told me it was his doing. I ran and hid for three days in the forest. I was trying to reach the coast and sail to Gwynthal, but Delmas caught me. He had heard rumors of the treasure and wanted it for himself. He thought I could give it to him.” Her hands dug into the sheet. “He was a slave and knew there was only one way he could bind me to him so that he would have time to find out what he wanted to know. He put me in chains and took me to Father Jerome, the priest at the castle. He had told him he wanted to wed me and take me to England to save me from the villagers. The priest had met my mother and knew she was no sorceress.” She added bitterly, “Like most men, he listened only to another man. He decided that I could have no better protector than Delmas and would not hear my protests. He said the words over us.”

  “Fool.”

  “He meant it kindly.”

  “Then save me from the kindness of fools.”

  She had felt the same at the time, but it was long ago.

  “You never told him of the treasure?”

  “No, he gave up trying to force me after a time. I had proved I had other value in Lord Kells’s household. He had hopes of winning his freedom through my healing.”

  “How did he try to force you?” he asked slowly.

  “How do men usually try to enforce their will?” She could feel the menace in him growing and said quickly, “I am free of him now. He can do nothing to harm me.”

  “You aren’t free of him. Not yet.”

  The words sounded foreboding and sent a chill through her. She hastened to change the subject. “Lady Adwen needs great care, but she is better than I hoped. Malik seems very pleased with having a companion—”

  “How did he hurt you?”

  He was like a dog with a bone and she was suddenly angry at the inquisition. Her life was fraught with problems and she was tired of wondering and worrying how he would respond to the most casual word. “I will answer no more questions. It is in the past. What difference does it make?”

  He was silent a moment, gazing out at the setting sun. “As God is my witness, I don’t know.” He suddenly rose to his feet and strode to the window. The scarlet light framed his powerful naked body and cast a fiery areolae about his loosened hair.

  His hair was lit by the flames.

  He will come.

  The words of Adwen’s dream suddenly returned to her.

  But it was not midnight and Gage had no intention of destroying Redfern. She had seen too many strange and miraculous happenings to discount the possibility of Adwen’s dream being a true vision, but he could not be the one. He was a man of violent emotions, but he would never deal in wanton destruction.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?

  He had turned once again to face her.

  The words tumbled out before she could restrain th
em. “I was thinking that you’re not a destroyer.”

  “Am I not?” He moved slowly toward the bed. “It is the duty of a soldier to destroy.”

  “But you … Malik says you are more than a warrior.”

  “Malik always thinks the best of everyone.” He towered over her. With the light behind him she could not see his expression, but his voice was darkly brooding. “I give you warning, I can be very like my father, and there was no more bloodthirsty man on this earth than Hardraada.”

  She felt a chill go through her. “Then you should battle against such a heritage.”

  “Oh, I do. I learned early that bloodletting must be guided by the mind and not by passion. I’ve not killed a man in anger since I was a boy following my father on his raids.” His hand came out and caressed her hair. “It disturbs me that I would have sliced your husband’s throat without a qualm. It shows my temper is not as controlled as I believed.”

  She moistened her lips. “If it disturbs you, then you must know it’s wrong.”

  “So the priests say. In truth, I’ve always agreed with them.” His hand moved down to caress her throat. “I’ve always thought David a fool to be so obsessed.”

  “David?”

  “King David, who saw Bathsheba and sent her husband to die in battle.”

  “You’re right. He was a fool to give up his soul for a woman.”

  “Then why do I want to do it? I’m not a fool.”

  The very casualness of his tone made her heart leap with fear. It was as if he had already admitted the decision was inevitable. “You’re not thinking reasonably. I’m no Bathsheba. You have no true affection for me. You’ve said Delmas’s presence will make no difference, that you’ll still couple with me, use me.”

  “I didn’t tell the truth. It does make a difference. While he exists I cannot—” He stopped and shook his head. “We will not talk of him. Keep your husband out of my sight, and he may live.”

  Heaven knows, she wanted to escape any further mention of Delmas. Gage’s violent response had frightened her. She swung her feet to the floor and tried to make her tone light. “I’ve told you I will avoid him, but he belongs to Lord Richard. You’ll have to tell him that seeing Delmas about the hall doesn’t please you.” She picked up her gown and slipped it over her head. “I’m sure he’ll accommodate you in any way he can.”