he warned, kicking the rags out of his way and standing before her. ‘You wanted to escape, I was in your way, and you removed me.’ He crossed his arms over his chest and allowed himself a moment of enjoyment at her discomfort. He knew, though, that the way she reacted to his accusation was important in coming to know her better.
Gillian let out a loud sigh and pushed her loosened hair back out of her face. Her bedraggled appearance in no way marred her beauty; instead, it made him want to wrap her in his arms and kiss away the worries that caused the crease to deepen between her brows.
‘You are correct, my lord,’ she said softly. ‘My only intention was to escape. You were in my way.’
‘Why?’ he asked. The word surprised him until he realised that he did want to know her reasons for running from him. ‘Did you run from me in particular? From this marriage?’ She looked as though she sought a way out of answering, so he asked again. ‘You spoke the vows in front of the priest and witnesses. You pledged yourself to me. So, lady, why did you run?’
‘I ran from you. I ran from this marriage. I just ran,’ she said in a voice so low he nearly missed it. She looked away from him, too, not meeting his gaze, but staring down at her hands while she spoke. Hands that twisted the cloth of her cloak in a tight spiral.
He suspected that she knew he would intercept any of her attempts to get to the convent, but why had she not run back to her brother’s protection?
‘Why the convent?’ He took a step towards her, but paused when she backed away. Likely she feared his anger even now.
‘I would be welcome there. The reverend mother said I would be welcomed into their community.’
‘And your brother would not welcome your return to him?’ he asked.
The stricken expression at his words told him more than he ever expected to learn, for her face paled and her eyes filled with pain and fear. Brice reached out for her, but she moved farther away from him. Filled with uncertainty about how to proceed with her, he could tell by watching the lady that exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her even now.
It had been his plan—having her walk back to the camp would tire her out and make another attempt to escape this night nearly impossible. Now, as he watched her struggle to remain standing even while trying to appear strong, he understood the strength of her pride and her determination.
She was a worthy opponent, but would be a better lady to their people and a wife to him—if he could gain her trust and co-operation. Swiving her in this tent now would not accomplish that. Not consummating the marriage was not a choice, for if she did reach the convent it would cause a complicated mess that would take months or years to sort through. And he knew to the marrow of his bones that she would try again. Still, he shook his head and surrendered to the inevitable.
‘Seek your rest, lady,’ he said, pointing to the pallet.
She started and glanced between him and the pile of blankets they’d occupied not long ago. ‘I do not understand.’
‘It is nearly the middle of the night,’ he began. ‘Many new challenges face us in the morn, so seek your rest.’
Brice turned away and began to pick up the rags from the ground. She remained still where she stood, not yet moving to the pallet. So, he went over, lifted up several of the blankets and motioned for her to lie down. As though prepared for him to attack her at any moment, Lady Gillian crept to the pallet and sat down without ever taking her gaze from him. She started to untie her cloak, but then wrapped its length around her and lay down.
Brice layered several blankets over her and tried not to think about her presence in his tent. He tried not to think about the lovely, feminine body under those blankets. He especially tried not to remember the way she sounded, the way she gasped so softly as he slid his hand nearer to her womanly flesh. But when she loosened her veil and her hair spread around her head, he hardened in immediate response to her innocent actions and he nearly lost that battle.
Realising that his body had readied for taking her and distraction was necessary, he walked over to finish his tasks. He should call Ernaut to see to cleaning and arranging things, but that could wait until morning. After securing his sword where she could not reach it easily, he gathered the soiled rags and tossed them out of the tent flap. He busied himself with other menial tasks, all to keep himself from tearing off the blankets, freeing her from her cloak and garments and ploughing her as deeply and fervently as he wanted to do.
A short while later, the sound of clattering teeth filled the small space. Brice turned and walked closer to her. Now he could see that her whole body shivered beneath her cloak and the blankets. His own breath floated in front of him in the cold night’s air, making him realise that she must be chilled to the bone from both her run to escape, her walk back to the camp and the absence of any fire or hearth to warm her in the tent.
It was exactly the discomfort he’d wanted her to feel when he gave the orders, but now, watching it, he found he did not like the results. He secured the flap of the tent and after removing his dagger and slipping it under the edge of the pallet, he lifted the blankets and slid in behind the lady.
Since she lay on her side facing away from him, he shifted closer until her back touched his chest and wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. She reacted immediately, her body rigid as she ceased all movements. So still did she lie that he could not even feel her taking breath into her lungs.
‘Be at ease, lady,’ he whispered to her. ‘I seek but to warm you so that your teeth stop making those infernal noises when they clatter from the cold and I can get some rest.’
Gathering the folds of her cloak in his hand, he tucked them tightly around her and moved one leg against hers to give her some warmth. Brice waited on her protests, but none came. After a few minutes, her teeth did indeed stop their clattering. It was another little while before her shivering stopped.
‘Though I meant for you to suffer after what you did, I did not intend for the punishment to be so severe,’ he whispered as he felt her body relax against his.
He expected no reply, for his words were as close to an explanation as he would go, as close to an apology as he would permit himself to offer. But, as she had in most things since he’d first heard of Lady Gillian of Thaxted, she surprised him once more.
‘And though I meant to knock you out of your senses, I did not mean to wound you so deeply,’ she whispered back.
Brice could not stop his laughter then, releasing her for a moment and falling on to his back as he did. Then, he rolled against her once more, gathering her into his arms and settling back into their comfortable position.
‘Just so, lady. I suspect we may be well suited for each other after all.’
He listened for another reply, but none came, and soon he was met only by the deep, even breaths that spoke of sleep. Now that her shivering had ceased and the warmth of their bodies together increased, Brice could feel the pull of sleep lulling him to it. He might as well get a few hours of rest, before taking the next step with his new wife.
Oh, he knew she thought herself safe from his attentions, but his delay would only last until morning. Though she might have fallen asleep a virgin this night, he planned that she would not be one by the next. Or by the time they rose to face the challenges on the morrow.
Chapter Five
