Yet she had hidden herself away instead of taking her husband’s place.
The realisation startled her, for she had allowed herself to become complacent, remaining in Alan’s shadow. It was no wonder Owen had tried to claim Pevensham. She could not merely stand aside and let him take command of this estate or their soldiers.
‘I will leave you to sleep,’ she told Alan, as she rose to go. Her cheek and jaw were aching, but she used the passageway between their rooms to go back to her chamber. There was no sign of her maid, Berta, but she washed her face and re-braided her hair. It was the best she could do for now.
She straightened and eyed the fallen spear from the soldier who had entered her chamber earlier. Though she had never wielded such a weapon before, she picked it up and gripped the shaft.
No longer would she be Owen’s victim. She refused to let him dictate her life or her husband’s. He had no right to be here, and she wanted him gone.
* * *
Warrick carried Owen’s unconscious form down the stone stairs and outside to the inner bailey. Several soldiers came forward, but backed down when they saw his expression. He did nothing to hide the raw hatred he felt towards de Courcy. The man had dared to attack Rosamund, and he would not allow Owen to remain at Pevensham.
The possessive bearing Warrick felt towards Rosamund went beyond all else. His intention last night was to punish her with searing pleasure and damn the consequences. But she had known it was him from the first. She had every opportunity to refuse, but she had not denied him. Instead, she had welcomed him into her body—something he had never expected. She had met his thrusts with her hips, squeezing him so tightly, the intensity had shaken him to his very soul.
He didn’t know what to think of it any more. Alan was dying, and he’d all but given Rosamund up, insisting that he take care of her.
And so he would. No man would ever touch her again. Somehow, he would find a way to give her the life she deserved, even if it meant hiring his sword as a mercenary. Her father might intervene again, but Warrick would not lose her a second time. He would do all that was needed to be her husband once again and be worthy of her.
Warrick strode across the space with Owen slung over one shoulder, and when they spied him, the men began to gather together. He ordered a horse for Owen, and then faced the soldiers. A dozen of Owen’s own men held spears and swords, encircling him.
‘Your lord attacked Lady Pevensham,’ he said quietly. ‘She has ordered him to leave the estate. I will leave you to take him back to Northleigh.’
But the men never moved. Instead, Lord Pevensham’s commander said quietly, ‘Seize him.’
When the men closed in, Warrick had no choice but to grip de Courcy’s unconscious body and raise a blade to the man’s throat. ‘Stand down.’ He couldn’t believe that the leader of Alan’s men would turn against them.
Owen stirred when his feet touched the ground, and he blinked. Warrick kept the weapon steady, but then he felt the pressure of a spear against his back. It was a silent warning to release his prisoner.
But if he did, they would surely kill him where he stood. He pressed the blade until a thin line of blood welled up on Owen de Courcy’s throat. It was a silent message that he meant what he’d said. He would have no qualms about killing the man who had hurt Rosamund—and they knew it.
‘Tell them to back away,’ he ordered Owen. The man was now standing on his own, though weakened from the beating.
‘Stop this, all of you,’ called out a woman’s voice. Warrick turned and saw Rosamund approaching. She carried herself like a queen and moved across the space. In one hand, she carried a spear, and she reminded him of a female warrior, despite her bruised and swollen jaw.
The soldiers on sentry duty appeared surprised to see her. Several of them approached at her signal to come forward. When fifteen men gathered, she said, ‘My husband may be dying, but he is still alive. As Lady of Pevensham, I hold the right to command our soldiers in his stead.’
She walked forward until she stood nearer to Owen’s men. ‘Lower your weapons.’
The soldier whose spear rested at Warrick’s back did not move. ‘My lady, this man—’
‘Warrick de Laurent witnessed Owen de Courcy strike me within my own home. I will not tolerate such disrespect.’ At that, she beckoned to her own soldiers, who outnumbered Owen’s forces. The men stood in front of the soldiers who surrounded Warrick, making their silent threat known. ‘I command you to take Owen de Courcy back to Northleigh,’ she continued. Then to her own soldiers she added, ‘I want every last one of his men gone from Pevensham. And if your loyalty lies with him, you are free to go. But if you leave, you will never hold a place here, so long as I am Lady.’
She turned her attention to Warrick at last. In her eyes, he saw a fierce strength and determination. Her shoulders were squared back, and she ordered, ‘Let him go so that his own men can escort him back home.’
To her soldiers she commanded, ‘See to it that they leave with their horses. And then I want all of you to gather here in the bailey. I have a great deal to say to you.’
Warrick waited until Owen’s men dropped back, before he lowered his blade. But when he sensed a sudden movement, he spun and deflected the spear shaft with his arm, seizing it and jerking it away from the man who had tried to kill him. He knocked the soldier hard across the head, and the man sank to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
After that, the others obeyed Rosamund’s command and stepped back. She remained standing with her own spear, until they mounted their horses. Warrick dragged Owen atop a horse and gave him back to his own men. Then he stood guard until all the men were gone.
They would come back, he knew. But for now, Rosamund had regained control of Pevensham. He remained a short distance behind her for her own protection. She distanced herself from him, moving towards the stairs. When the soldiers had gathered around her, she regarded each one of them.
‘My husband, Lord Pevensham, is your overlord, just as I am your Lady. Your fealty belongs to us, not to his younger brother.’ Her eyes were icy cool as she stared back at the soldiers. ‘I do not care if he is the heir to Pevensham and his brother’s estates. He has no right to strike me—not in my own home.’
She raised her voice and in it, there was a quiet power. ‘Any man among you who does not honour his oath to my husband will face punishment or be forced to leave.’
There was an uneasy silence that descended over the men. There was a gleam of defiance in the commander’s eyes and Warrick answered it with a warning look. Then he picked up a spear and began to pound it against the ground in a gesture of respect. One by one, the others did the same, until the entire bailey was filled with soldiers offering up their support.
