was the same velvet-smooth timbre, although the strength and depth of it were awe-inspiring in the small room.
Rooster stepped forward, reaching for the dagger at his side as he moved. He slipped it under the binding at her elbows, then the one at her knees. Aislynn moved her arms forward, more to have something to clasp onto. Rooster had lost all his bravado. He wasn’t looking at her any longer. He wasn’t looking at anything except the floor.
“Now leave us.”
It wasn’t said twice. Aislynn watched them file from the room, all of them looking to the floor. The door’s opening silhouetted him, then it shut. He was more immense than she’d suspected, from how he’d lain between her legs in the glade. She couldn’t see more. The torchlight wasn’t illuminating the area beyond Brent’s bed and she wasn’t capable of facing him, yet.
“Is any of that true?” he asked.
He was coming closer if the voice was any indication. Aislynn backed a mini-step, then another. Her action didn’t please him. She could tell as he halted just shy of the light and breathed out a loud sigh.
“You dare fear me? Now?”
“I fear nae man,” she replied.
“Then why do you back from me?”
She took a deep breath. “Because you dinna’ tell me the truth. You’re nae troubadour,” she said to the floor.
“’Tis but one title I claim. I am anything. Ask me.”
“Liege lord? Sassenach liege?” She tried not to give it any inflection but knew she failed.
He gave another loud sigh. “Aye. Liege. Lord Rhoenne Guy de Ramhurst. First Earl of Tynebury. Lorded to it by Scotland’s King David. Norman by birth.”
“The Lion?” she asked, in the silence that followed his voice.
“Some refer to me as such. I cannot stop it.”
Her heart was hammering to her throat. She moved a hand there. “La Bete Grande?” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Great beast? If you’ve heard it, then it’s still said. Such a title was earned from my prowess at Brittany. I demanded a high price for surrender. They didn’t pay it…at first. It may also be due to my size. Or mayhap it’s my temperament. I cannot say. Besides, at times such a title is apt.” Torchlight fluttered down from the top of him, highlighting a sinister-looking nose and deepening the cleft in his chin.
“I may also have earned such a name from my tourneys. There are none I lose to. If there are, I have yet to be challenged by him. Some even refer to me as Avenger. It’s said I fight as one. I am called all these things…witch.”
Aislynn curled her tongue into the back of her throat to stop another word.
“Since we have this between us, what of it? I have titles I bear. You have named some. There are more. A title does what it needs. It convinces and sways others. What of yours…my Lady of the Brook? Are you this witch they accuse? ’Tis not a far stretch. Healers are ugly crones or men of great years. I’ve never known one to possess great beauty and skill. Nor a healer who appears without warning and disappears with the same…just like this witch you’re called.”
He was accompanying his words with two more steps toward her, losing the light’s illumination, save as a means to outline him. He wasn’t wearing chainmail or padding about his form. His arms were still held slightly outward away from his form, almost as if the size of them prevented their closure. With such shadowing, he not only looked the size of a great beast, he resembled one. Aislynn gulped.
“Alas…my lovely; I am also a troubadour, just as I told you.”
He was bowing as if they were at a king’s court. Aislynn glanced that way, then back down. Her face was hot with the blush. She’d been kissed by the liege lord this very morn? And she hadn’t even known it was him?
“You needn’t fear me. You can see for yourself that I have not reached the size of my home, be it known as keep or donjon. Nor, I might add, am I about to.”
“You…heard that?” she asked, and frowned at the timid-sounding words from a like voice.
“That, and the battering-ram reference to a blow from my fist. I enjoyed the listening. It showed wit to use such to control them.”
“Words?”
“Nay, fear. Their fear.”
Aislynn’s eyes went wide on the dust at her feet. He was this perceptive and she’d thought him a dimwit just this morn? She couldn’t believe her naiveté.
“You listed titles and I believe you know the why of them. They inspire fear. You knew that and you used it.” He was right in front of her. Aislynn took another step back, but he matched it.
“You needn’t back from me. You need only say the words. Grant me your service and your fealty, and reap the rewards. Your every desire I would grant. Your every whim I would see to.” His voice was lowering.
“I—” she began.
“Nay.” He put a finger to her lips, silencing any desire to speak. Then, he moved it away. The spot tingled…burned. She almost licked at it.
“Don’t answer yet. Not until you know the offer. I put it forth now. I would have you for my healer, just as I spoke this morn. I would protect you from further ravishment. By anyone. You would be mine.”
The inflection on the word started such a swell of warmth through her belly that Aislynn’s eyes widened.
“You’d wear Ramhurst blue—legally and in full view. You’d sleep in Ramhurst linens. You’d be served. You’d be safe. There is no man to dispute it. Or, if he does, he can feel my wrath. You have already seen some of it.” He gestured with a head movement over to where Brent lay.
“Is that all?” she asked.
She assumed he was smiling as he answered, since it sounded in his voice. “You would also have the duty of overseeing my household…and you would have the care of me. All of me. I would put myself in your hands. I have needs. I would have them seen to.”
Aislynn’s heart felt like it did a dive to the depths of her before resuming its position. She was choking, but he just kept talking through it.
“…and start with this leg of mine.”
She glanced down at the hose-covered calf. Then, she raised her eyes to the black holes that were his. “You dinna’ speak of your hand, My Lord,” she replied, finally.
He reached out with his left hand and took her arm, bringing her close enough she could smell the wood smoke, pine soap, and mead scent of him. That was just what one of her senses was experiencing.
“How do you know about that?” he asked softly, his voice a rumble of sound while his breath fanned her cheek.
“I have brought all she requires. I only have one bucket of water. I am no serf. They can haul more water if she needs more.”
The
