Susan Paul - The Heiress Bride

The sounds of Cyril’s fellow knights pulling out their swords was enough to bring silence to the crowded tavern.

“Oh, please, please, good sirs,” the innkeeper begged to no avail, “don’t…don’t…”

“The day I willingly seek death, Sir Knight, is the day the sun stops rising,” Hugh stated with bald confidence, his heavy sword dancing in the air as though it were a feather. “Especially at the hands of such a one as you, for, truth be told, I’d rather be devoured alive by swine.” He smiled pleasantly.

Cyril gave an angry, animal sound and advanced on Hugh slowly.

“Then I’ll make certain to toss your body into the wallow outside when I’ve finished with you,” he promised. “Now set the girl aside, fool, unless you mean to use her as a shield.”

The insult flew over Hugh’s head; his heart was pounding too erratically for him to mind it. In another moment the hot pleasure of the fight would pour over him like some soothing drug. He would let himself be consumed by it, but before that happened he must send the girl to safety. He wasn’t even certain that she was still conscious; she felt lifeless in his grip, but that wasn’t his worry now. Later he would have no other care than her full awareness, and he would make certain that it was centered fully on himself, but now…now he wanted only to feel the sweet relief the coming fight would bring.

“Take her, Pete,” he said, excitement shortening his breath. “Take her and keep her safe. When I’ve finished with good knight Cyril and his good knightly friends I’ll come to claim her, and God only knows how I’ll need her all in one piece.” Lifting his sword almost to the level of his chin, he smiled. “Now, sirs,” he murmured, “let us see who ends up in the wallow.”

A soft, melodic sound drifted into Rosaleen’s dreams, beckoning her to wake. A lute, she thought dimly, her mind struggling to lift out of its sleepy stupor. Someone was playing a lute. And she was…where? In a room? Yes. Not her room at Castle Siere, but a room somewhere. Without opening her eyes she could sense light, the kind of light that meant day, and a gentle breeze caressed her shoulders and face. The bed she lay upon was firm and comfortable, the sheets were cool against her skin. Stretching, yawning, keeping her eyes closed, she snuggled into the mattress and tried to make sense of it all.

Her memories were blurred, at best. She had been so very weary and in so much pain. The wounds on her back had felt hot as fire and had stung as though soaked with lime. The battle to keep going had been fierce, indeed. And then she had caught sight of the inn. What had she done with her horse? she wondered. She couldn’t recall whether she’d had enough sense to stable it or not, only that she had somehow dragged her aching body inside the smoky depths of the inn to request a room.

The memory made Rosaleen frown. Aye, she had requested a room, and the innkeeper had given her a great deal of trouble. What was it he had said? Something about having to share her night’s profits with him? Whatever had the filthy creature meant? She hadn’t been able to make him understand that she only wanted a room, and when she had tried to explain it once more she’d been accosted by three lecherous brutes, one of whom had gone so far as to lay hands on her.

Her memories after that became less clear. There had been a handsome stranger, with a handsome smile and handsome green eyes and handsome manners, who had come to her rescue, and then there had been only this. A comfortable bed, the taste of bitter medicine, a soothing of her pain, gentle hands caring for her…and dreams.

Dreams, she thought hazily. Only dreams, and yet they had seemed so real. She could recall them vividly, as if she were dreaming them all over again. She could almost feel his hands and lips on her again, moving over her body, and she could hear his voice, soft, whispering. It had both unsettled and soothed her, just as he had…

“You’re smiling, sweeting. That means you’re either dreaming of last night or you’ve finally come awake. Now, which is it, I wonder?”

Rosaleen’s eyes flew open.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good.”

Warm breath touched her cheek. Rosaleen turned her head very slowly. There, smiling down at her, his face inches from her own, his arms like pillars on either side of her, was the handsome stranger.

The scream that came out of her mouth startled both of them. The stranger quickly stood up, and Rosaleen, ignoring the pain it caused, leapt out of the bed on the other side. A shock of cool air on her skin caused her to look down at herself, and the unexpected sight of her completely naked body made her scream again. She dived back into the bed and pulled the bed covers all the way up to her chin.

“God’s bones, mistress!” said the stranger, laughing, his green eyes filled with amusement. “Must you make so much noise? You’ll have our good hosts bursting in to see whether I’m murdering you.”

“How d-dare you!” she sputtered, tightening her grip on the covers. “How d-d-d-dare you! Get out!” She pointed a shaking finger at the door. “Get out! Now!”

The man raised an eyebrow at her. “You would throw me out of my own room, mistress? After all I’ve suffered in it for your sake these past two days?”

“Your room!” Rosaleen was flooded with confusion. “God’s teeth! What am I doing in your room? And where are my clothes? My things? At least send up a maid and go away so that I may make myself decent. Dear God in heaven!” She set a hand to her forehead. “How long have I been here? I don’t even know where I am!”

“It appears you’re feeling better, at least,” he commented. “Your back doesn’t pain you?”

“My back?” she repeated. Was the man deaf? Why was he still standing there when she had asked him to fetch a serving maid? “Yes, it’s much better. Now go away and send the maid at once to attend me.”

He sat on the bed beside her, causing Rosaleen to lean away and clutch the blankets even more tightly. “Whoever beat you like that ought to be strung up by his feet and repaid in kind, sweeting, and if I ever meet up with the bastard I promise you I’ll do it. I’m half-tempted to alter my plans and go after the fiend anyhow, so help me I am. What in God’s holy name did you ever do to deserve it?”

Making sure to keep herself covered, Rosaleen scrambled as far away from him as possible. The fact that he was sitting on a bed that contained a totally naked lady didn’t seem to bother him in the least. Indeed, he looked perfectly at ease.

“Well?” he prompted.

“I…” Rosaleen faltered beneath his green-eyed perusal. Merciful heavens! He was certainly handsome enough. His long dark hair, tied up neatly in a tail at the back of his head, had been lightened several shades by the strength of the sun. His face, squarely built and strongly featured, was the most perfectly masculine face she had ever seen. His lips, full and sensual, seemed drawn into a permanently mocking grin.

“Please get off the bed,” she said.

He laced his fingers around one crossed knee. “Not until I have a few answers from you, sweet. I’ve not wasted nearly two full days biding my time at this wayside inn for mere pleasure. The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner we can both be quit of this place.”

“Sir, if you will please just…go away for a few minutes so that I can…can…” She clenched her teeth. “If you’ve not yet noticed, I am not dressed.”

He grinned. “I’m not blind, mistress.”

“Well, then?”

“Well?” he repeated.

What in God’s name was the matter with him? Was the man an idiot? “Well then,” she returned patiently, “would you please go away and send the maid to me?”