The Baron's Bounty (11 page)

Isobel stopped him with her hand on his arm. “She’s in bed. I’ve seen to it meself.”

“Ah, so then I’ll stay here I suppose. No need to leave after all.” Toft just stood there and smiled.

Conlin cleared his throat, gaining both their attention. “Toft, make yourself scarce tonight.”

“My lord?” Toft didn’t seem to understand, as usual.

“Spend the night in the Great Hall.”

“What for? I always sleep here, at the foot of your bed.” He looked over to Isobel and then pointed to a lumpy pallet on the floor. “That is my pallet. I sleep here in case the baron needs anything during the night.”

“Your services won’t be needed tonight.” Conlin’s voice took on a tone of irritation. “Now go.”

Toft made a face and mumbled to himself, and was stepping out of the room when John, followed by a group of the baron’s knights pushed into the room. The crowd brought Isobel into the chamber with them. The men were rowdy and had tankards of ale and mead in their hands. They laughed and sang nasty songs not fit for a lady’s ears. They were well in their cups and severely out of tune.

“All of you - out,” said Conlin in a low voice.

“Sandwich, you’ve found the girl and we are here to witness the consummation of your marriage to Lady Catherine of Fife.” John raised a tankard in the air and the other men shouted out and raised their tankards as well.

“Witness?” Isobel was terrified. “What do they mean?” Her eyes darted over to Conlin.

“Lady Isobel, you know it was your uncle’s wish that we consummate the wedding of his daughter, Lady Catherine, and myself. You read the missive yourself.”

“Aye, o’ course,” she said wetting her lips, and then glancing back to the men. “But do they need te be here?”

Conlin walked over to join her. “It is a custom in England that the consummation of a lord’s wedding be witnessed in order to prove that it has taken place. Usually the priest is amongst those who watch the coupling.”

“The priest, too?” She felt faint and grabbed onto the carved wooden spindle of the bed. In Scotland, things were different. Actually, in the Highlands everyone coupled in front of each other and didn’t seem to care, but she didn’t want to put on a show for anyone, be they Scottish or English. She especially was not looking forward to this, since this marriage wasn’t even real.

“Aye,” said John, laughing and raising his mug again. Ale splashed out over the rim and hit the floor. “It’s also a lord’s privilege to go to bed with every new wife within his fife before she couples with her new husband. I’ve actually had the chance to experience that myself on occasion.”

“That’s horrible!” Her legs wobbled and she had to sit upon the bed or risk falling.

Conlin interrupted and for that she was glad. “There’ll be none of that tonight, now get back on your ship and go back to Hastings, John, or I might have to start telling tales of how you scream out in your sleep.”

John got suddenly quiet, and with one nod from Conlin, he was the one who herded the others out of the room, though there were many complaints. When they had all exited, Conlin walked across the room and closed the door.

“My lord?” Isobel watched him with wide eyes as he removed his weapon belt and hung it on a wooden peg on the wall. “Do I really have te . . .”

“It’s not of my choosing, Isobel.” He removed his surcoat and next his tunic, his eyes never leaving her for a moment.

“I understand. But couldna we jest –”

“I wish we could.” He went over to the door and opened it, said a few words to someone standing there, and then closed it again and this time locked it.

“Who was thet?” she asked curiously.

“It was Shadwell, as well as your own guard, Elliot. They are going to be the witnesses in the consummation of our marriage.”

“Ye’re no’ goin’ te let them in, are ye?”

“Nay.” He removed his shoes next and lined them up neat and orderly under his weapons hanging on the wall. “I told them to listen from outside the door, but they will not be witnessing this coupling tonight with their eyes. Since your own uncle ordered Elliot to return to Scotland with this information, I don’t see that we have a choice.”

“We could jest pretend,” she whispered. “Throw some wine on the sheets and tell them my maidenhead is gone.”

“Is that what you want?” He stood there in the semi-dark with the flame of the nighttime candle causing the shadows to dance across his chest. He looked sad and disappointed, and she didn’t know what to say. “Please take off my wife’s gown,” he told her, closing his eyes and then turning toward the fire. He went to stoke it, and though his back was turned, she swore she saw him brush a tear from his eye.

“I’m sorry. I didna ken it was her gown when I first donned it.” She had been so wrapped up in the trouble with Rose and her own fears of bedding him, that she’d never even considered he might not want to bed her either. She walked forward slowly, curiosity eating at her to find out more about his late wife. “I ken thet yer daughter blames ye fer yer wife’s deith, but I also ken it isna so.”

“Isn’t it?” He poked at the logs on the hearth angrily as he said it, but never turned to face her. She continued to walk toward him from across the room.

“How can ye say thet? Ye are no’ a healer, are ye? So how could ye have saved her life?”

“She knew she was going to lose the baby and also die but didn’t tell me.” He shoved the iron poker back into the holder forcefully. “She knew but I was too stupid to realize it.”

“Dinna blame yerself.” She stopped right behind him now. She needed to hear more. She had to keep him talking. “Where did ye take Rose and why did ye leave in the first place if yer wife was birthin’ a bairn?”

“Damn it, I don’t know.” He hit the stone wall with his hand so hard that she saw blood dripping down his knuckles.

“Did she ask ye te do it?”

“Aye. I never could tell Skena no.” He laid his head against the wall and she wasn’t sure if he were going to bang it into the stone next, but she hoped not. “Rose was very upset that night. I swear if it wasn’t for that, I never would have taken her to Canterbury Cathedral to visit the shrine of Thomas Becket and see the Regale ruby. It was all a distraction so she wouldn’t worry about her mother, that’s all it was, I swear.”

“Why was Rose so upset?”

“She acted that way each time one of her siblings was born. She’d heard the screams of birthing pains from her mother when she was just a young child. She thought her mother was dying and it scared her when she saw all the blood. This time was no different. She thought her mother was going to die and wouldn’t believe otherwise. Little did I know that it would really happen.”

“So ye were only doin’ what yer wife wanted.”

She watched as Conlin rubbed his hands over his face and let out a deep sigh. “Aye. She said she just didn’t want to scare Rose and that everything would be fine. But deep down I knew she was hiding something. She gave Rose a doll that day that she’d made from rags that had been torn in preparation of birthing the baby. Skena told Rose that night to hug it every time she missed her. I thought it was odd she should say that since they were always together, and we’d be back from Canterbury in a few days time, but . . . but I just let the thought go.”

“Ye were excited aboot the bairn. Ye couldna have kent.”

“I’m cursed, damn it! I did know.” He turned and faced her, and from the crazed look in his eyes she felt fear for the first time since she saw someone murder her king. Could he be that murderer after all? She backed up a few steps as he continued to talk, coming slowly toward her.

“Do you know what it’s like to lose someone you love?”

“Aye.” She nodded forcefully. “I lost me mathair when I was verra young, and I lost me faither five years ago.”

“What about siblings? Have you watched a child die, because that is something you will never be able to forget as long as you live.”

“Nay, I havena. I have no siblings.” He was coming toward her now like a wolf stalking his prey. She kept backing away from him until the back of her legs eventually hit the bed and she had to stop.

“God’s eyes, it hurts so much.” She heard a slight tremble in his voice and his eyes stared at her intensely. Part of her wanted to look away but yet another part of her found his story so compelling that she couldn’t look away if she wanted to. “I buried not only my wife, but five children in the ground. And two of those children lived long enough for me to actually become very fond of them.” He raised his voice now in anger. “Bid the devil, I don’t deserve it! I lost five sons to the wicked hand of fate. Five heirs! I watched as each of them either drew their last breath from illness, or never even had the chance to take their first breath at all. I watched and I was able to do nothing – nothing I tell you, that made a damned bit of difference. God is punishing me, and I don’t know why.”

“He’s no’ punishin’ ye,” she said shaking her head, but it only seemed to anger him more. He picked up a wooden goblet from across the room and flung it at the fire. Wine spilled everywhere, and dribbled down his arm along with the blood. She rushed over to the washstand and wrung out a rag and hurried over to him to clean his arm. She hesitated, but then reached out anyway, and to her surprise he didn’t stop her.

“You look a lot like her in that gown,” he said as she cleaned the mess. She could feel the hardness of his muscles beneath her fingers.

“Skena?” She used the name of his deceased wife that she’d heard mentioned.

“Yes.” He closed his eyes and she could see the pain on his face.

“I’m sorry aboot yer wife and bairns, and I’m sorry I wore this gown.”

“You didn’t know.” His voice was calming now, and she liked that. “Don’t worry, Isobel, I won’t make you consummate the marriage.”

She liked when he used her Christian name, and she also liked the fact he’d just relieved her of her biggest fear. He plopped down on a chair and put his face into his hands again.

“Ye really loved her, didna ye?” She gently put the rag on the edge of the table. Her heart went out to him and she could not even imagine how he felt. He didn’t answer, and she continued with her questions. “Thet’s why ye’re so protective with Rose. Ye’re afeared ye’ll lose her too, arena ye?”

Bent over with his elbows on his knees, he slowly raised his face to look at her. A long, dark wisp of hair fell over one eye but he did nothing to push it away. “Aye. So much so that I’ve stayed true to her even in death.”

“Ye . . . ye mean te say thet ye havena . . . had another lassie since she passed?”

“Not then, not now. And three years is starting to feel like a million.”

“Och, me lord, thet is unheard of back in me homeland.”

“It’s unheard of here, too. And if you ever breathe a word of this to my friends, I’ll never forgive you.”

She walked over and turned her back to him and waited.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounded tired.

She turned her head slightly, looking over her shoulder at him. “Help me remove the gown.” Her heart beat rapidly against her ribs. “I ne’er should have worn it in the first place. It has buttons on the back and I canna remove it meself.”

He stood, and she felt his hesitation. But then he lifted her long hair and gently laid it over her shoulder. She felt his big fingers fumbling with the small, gold inlaid buttons down her back, and she wondered if he was as nervous as her at this moment.

“I had this gown made special for her.” He unbuttoned it, taking his time, and she swore she felt his hands shaking. When he finished, he gently slipped it off her shoulders. “I want you, Isobel,” he said, surprising her. She felt his hands on her bare shoulders and the warmth of his chest against her back. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “A man can only hold out so long before he goes insane. I may be a fool at times, but I will be damned if I’m going to keep playing the role of martyr. I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t.”

“Aye,” she said, barely able to speak. Her mouth went dry and she found it hard to swallow. His hands were caressing her shoulders now, and it felt wicked, wild, and exciting. Just when she thought it couldn’t feel any better, he brushed his lips against the side of her neck and she felt a slight shiver of delight run its course up her spine.

“Your skin is so soft and smooth.” He let go of her shoulders, and stepped back. With him went his glorious heat. She heard rustling of some sort, but did not dare turn around to see what he was doing.

“Thank ye,” she said, not knowing what to say for his endearment. No man had ever touched her or talked to her so intimately in all her twenty years. Then when he started placing gentle kisses up and down her neck, she closed her eyes and let out the breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.

She felt her inner core stir, and the touch of a half-naked, handsome man made her mind and imagination soar. “I want ye, too,” she blurted out before she could ponder the fact she had voiced her thoughts aloud. He pushed the gown from her torso at hearing her words, and it dropped all the way to the floor, pooling in velvet blue folds around her ankles. The cool air bit invasively at her bare skin as she stood there now in just a thin shift and her shoes.

“I can’t stop thinking of the day I saved you. I saw your perfect naked body then and it has been haunting my dreams ever since. I remember the kiss you gave me, but it seems like a lifetime ago. By the rood, I can no longer even remember the taste of your lips.”