“It’s not true,” Ceidre cried, as an awful doubt raised itself. “Ed asked me to become the Norman’s mistress! Ed asked me so that I might keep a better eye on him! It was not my choice, it was my duty!”
Alice blinked. For a moment, a silence stretched between them, Alice’s face filled with growing comprehension, Ceidre horrified at what she had inadvertently revealed. “You sleep with him to spy?” Alice gasped.
“Not to spy,” Ceidre said quickly, too quickly. “Just to be aware of what he does. There is a difference! The Norman would never tell me his secrets, he is too clever.” Her words were rushed, her heart speeding on wings. “You know the Norman would never tell me anything, Alice!”
Alice was stunned, and so excited she could barely contain herself. How could Ceidre be so stupid—to tell her this! She was a spy! She was using the Norman!
Ceidre wanted only to escape. “I do not ask your forgiveness,” she whispered, “but I had to explain. He really did rape me, and I really had no choice!”
Alice said nothing. Ceidre hurried to the door and left. Clearly she was shaken. Smiling, Alice clapped her hands excitedly. She could not wait to tell her husband that his whore was using him to spy for his archenemies. She could not wait!
“Ceidre, I must go.”
Ceidre, naked and snuggling against Rolfe’s side, jerked upright. They were in the stable, and it was still hours before dawn. “What? So soon? Why?”
He smiled and touched her quivering breasts. “In truth, I am not ready to leave you,” he said, lifting her voluptuousness. “But I must.” He released her and stood. “I go to York at dawn.”
“To York?” She echoed. “At dawn!”
He began to dress.
Ceidre was aware of many turbulent emotions, the first being an overwhelming disappointment. “For how long? When will you be back?”
He paused, clad in hose and tunic, then knelt before her, cupping her face. “You will miss me?”
She trembled. “’Tis too soon,” she said bitterly. “Will—will Guy return before you do?”
“Mayhap,” he said evenly. His thumb caught a tear. “Do not cry, sweeting. When I return we will have many more moments like this night.”
Was she crying? Was she that upset that he was leaving her? She had been upset ever since the confrontation with Alice that afternoon. And what about the messenger? Why was he going to York? Damn Ed! Although maybe it was better that Rolfe would go now, for a while, because of what she had so stupidly told Alice. Yet she clutched his hands. “Take me with you,” she breathed, her face close to his.
“I cannot.” He started to rise, but she would not release him, and he pulled her up with him.
He was mostly dressed, she was stark naked. One candle, carefully placed so as not to cause a fire, illuminated them, casting most of its light upon her naked form. Ceidre was aware of it. She was aware that he was affected, eyeing her breasts, her belly, the coarse auburn hair between her legs, her curved thighs. Deliberately she leaned slightly forward, so her nipples brushed his chest, tightening. “Take me with you,” she begged. “We have had so little time together.”
“Ceidre …”
The agitated rise and fall of her chest was causing her nipples to stroke his skin repeatedly. He was not oblivious; Ceidre was very much aware of the smoldering of his gaze. She shifted slightly, so one thigh touched the bone of his hip, so her groin pressed against his other leg, riding it. She felt him hard and aroused against her navel. “Guy will return while you are gone,” she said breathlessly. “And I have not told you, but he is no longer afraid of me, he said so before I came to you the first time. He still thinks I am a witch.” She was rushing on, pleading without shame. “He said so, but a good one, one who will not harm, only heal. Now my threats to curse him if he touches me are idle, useless. Now it is only a matter of time until he decides to make me his wife truly. I saw how he has looked at me,” she lied desperately. “He will return and he will bed me, rape me!” She sobbed. “Please take me with you! We have had so little time together!”
He cursed, gripping her arms so tightly she winced. “You have learned your power over me too well, little one,” he said. “I cannot resist your lush body when you press and tremble against me, as you know damn well. I cannot resist your tears, and mostly, I cannot bear the thought of you with another—you know this too!” He cursed again. With his hard leg, he pushed her against the wall, forcing her thigh to ride up to his waist.
“Will you take me with you?” Ceidre cried.
“Yes,” he growled, pulling down his hose and plunging into her so smoothly she was against the wall, thighs locked around his waist, clinging, before she even knew it. “Yes.” He groaned. “God’s blood, yes.”
They arrived in York two days later. William’s royal garrison, Ceidre saw, was teeming with activity. She had managed to avoid anxiety during their journey, riding alongside Rolfe, sharing conversation and warm looks, even making him laugh upon occasion, much to his men’s amazement. Rolfe gave no explanation to anyone as to why she was accompanying him, and of course, no one dared to question her presence. After initial pink embarrassment at the knights’ surprise, Ceidre recovered and was soon truly enjoying herself. How could she not, after all? She was astride a beautiful blooded palfrey in the full bloom of summer, seated next to her handsome, golden lover—it was as if they were amusing themselves with a pleasant, innocent outing. There had been no incidents to hinder them, and they made good time. Yet now, seeing the comings and goings of William’s soldiers, including his messengers, Ceidre felt dread ballooning deep in the pit of her being.
The question loomed: Why had Rolfe been sent for? And now, seeing what were clearly travel preparations for a large number of troops, she feared the worst. An armed force would be leaving York, and it could only be related to the rebels.
Rolfe left her at his tent, which was quickly raised within the inner bailey, but did not restrict her to it. He went to see William. Ceidre felt as if a fairy tale had ended. She could not rest happily at York in the face of what she was seeing. She had to find out what was occurring, and why. She prayed that the Normans were going to ride out after Scot reivers and not after Saxon rebels.
She spent the rest of the day wandering in the village, where gossip ran rampant and all the village women were eager to share it with her, another Saxon. The Danes were going to invade again, one bakerwoman said. William was going to ride to the coast to meet them head on. A fisherwoman told Ceidre that William was furious over an ambush a sennight past, in which he had lost a top captain. He intended to scour the borderlands until he found the rebels responsible, and hang each and every one. An alewife told her that Hereward the Wake was reportedly close by, and this was the target of the Bastard Conqueror; another woman told her that her brothers’ whereabouts had been discovered and that William would rout them and capture them, once and for all.
This last made Ceidre sick with fear.
She purchased meat and pigeon pastries from a vendor, along with a few exceedingly plump plums, and headed back to the castle’s walls. They had been completed in wood and partially built in stone since their destruction during the last uprising. She was allowed into the outer bailey when, being questioned by the guard, she stated she had arrived with Rolfe de Warenne. She ignored a few lewd comments and a wink. After passing over the next drawbridge, she incurred the same questions, and this time had to wait until Beltain appeared to vouch for her. The heavy, spiked portcullis slammed shut after she was let in.
Rolfe had not returned to his tent. Ceidre paid a young boy to fetch water, and she washed every inch of her body by hand and sponge. She donned fresh garments, nibbled on the food she had bought, and paced restlessly. Dark shadows fell, the night grew black. He had obviously stayed to dine in the keep with William, she thought, chagrined. He had forgotten her presence or was careless of it. Then she told herself she was a fool for feeling jilted. She did not want to sup in William’s hall, and if she had, how would Rolfe explain her presence to his own liege lord? He would certainly have to, for William could question him about anything and everything. Her appearance at his side would at the least cause a scandal, at the most a royal uproar!
