“Do you understand me?” he ground out.
Her mouth opened. “My lord,” she said, and her tone was thick and husky. Her gaze was on his mouth, and then it moved to his groin. “My lord,” she breathed, and the tone ended on a low, sexual moan.
He recalled her begging him to thrust harder and hurt her in his bed, and he was overwhelmed with disgust and revulsion. He turned abruptly, leaving. He heard her chasing after him and was so stunned when she threw herself at his back that he froze. She groaned, pressing herself against his buttocks. He twisted around and shook her off, too late realizing, as she gasped, moaning from the floor, that he was arousing her, not frightening her. He left, slamming the door behind him.
A quick glance into his own chamber showed him the Ceidre was still soundly asleep, untortured by dreams. The sight of her was enough to make him linger, that odd swelling feeling bubbling again in his heart. He forced himself to turn and go downstairs.
The hall was empty save for Guy, Beltain, and Athelstan. Although it was the latter who asked how Ceidre was, Rolfe saw the agonized look in Beltain’s eyes— and the steady one in Guy’s. “She will be fine,” he said grimly. His look was utterly cool as it lanced Ceidre’s husband. “You do not inquire after your wife?”
Guy flushed. “Of course I do.”
“She is asleep—in my bed.”
Guy said nothing.
His anger was impossible to swallow. “Do you want to wake your wife, after her ordeal, and remove her to your own chambers? She is welcome to stay where she is. I will take a pallet in the hall.”
Guy shifted uneasily. “I do not want to disturb your comfort, my lord.”
“You do not disturb me,” Rolfe said quickly. “Fine, she may stay.” His tone dismissed Guy, and he turned his gaze upon Beltain.
His captain immediately dropped to one knee, unsheathing his sword and laying it at Rolfe’s feet. “I am at your command,” he said levelly.
“Sheath your sword,” Rolfe said. “If I had not seen, twice now, the sincere regret in your eyes, I would strip you of your command. The dungeon is no place for a lady. Yet that you considered her cunning does not escape me. You could not conceive of her fear of the pit. Therefore, take up your sword, rise, and learn from your mistakes.”
Beltain stood lithely, his expression level. “Thank you, my lord, for your clemency.”
Rolfe dismissed him with his hand. Beltain did not know how close he had come to being murdered just a few hours ago. He realized he was alone with Athelstan, and he frowned, anxious to go back upstairs. His gaze wandered where his thoughts had gone, and Athelstan followed it.
“You had best send the lady Ceidre to Dumstanbrough as soon as she is well.”
Rolfe gave him a look.
“You cannot bear this situation, my lord, and you know it well. Guy is not jealous, which is good, and he trusts you, which is better, or you would lose a fine captain and a truly loyal soul.”
“You think I do no know this? And what do you suddenly care for my dilemmas?”
“You are a just man, a good leader,” Athelstan said softly. “It is a shame that ’tis war, not peace, which brings you to us.”
“Dwelling on what should be is for fools and poets.”
“Send her with her husband to Dumstanbrough,” Athelstan urged. “If you lose your best man, you will come to hate her.”
“I am Rolfe de Warenne,” Rolfe said softly. “I am Rolfe the Relentless, the king’s best man. You think I cannot control a mere passing fancy? Think again. Yes, the witch is enchanting, but never will I forget she belongs to another. Now go to bed, old man.”
“Gladly,” Athelstan said, turning. He paused. “Passing fancy or obsession, my lord?”
“To bed!”
“And which bed will you go to?”
Rolfe did not reply, watching him leave. The old Saxon had more nerve than most men. Obsession? ’Twas not an obsession. He would not allow it to be such.
Ceidre awoke and was instantly aware of whose bed she was in.
Her memories were harsh—and tender.
The awful nightmare of her imprisonment for a day and a half, which had seemed like eternity, was abrasive but fading. More potent, it seemed, were the events since her rescue and her recollections of her rescuer.
