But Emma caught her hand to quickly assure her, “Nay, lady, I meant no insult. ’Tis just strange to see the dreadful dragon behave like a normal man.”
Dreadful dragon? How aptly put, but Rowena was more concerned with what she had just been called herself, as she realized how much worse it would be to be treated like a serf by Warrick if others knew she was not.
“Why do you call me lady?”
Emma shrugged. “You cannot hide what you are in serf’s wool. Your manner speaks more clearly than words, lady, though your words speak just as clearly of noble breeding.”
“You speak just as clearly,” Rowena pointed out, relieved that Emma was only guessing.
Emma grinned. “I do but mimic—though better than Celia, I warrant.”
Rowena could not help laughing. “Aye, much better than she. But tell me, if naught occurred, why do the women seem, well, almost fearful?”
“When they look at you?” At Rowena’s nod, Emma’s grin got wider. “They have heard what happened to Celia and think it was at your behest.”
“But I never—”
“Idid not think so, but they do. They are also in awe of you that you do not fear the dragon even in his darkest moods.”
“Certainly I fear him. He holds my life in his hands.”
“Nay, he is no killer of women. But even Celia hid from him when he was angry, and everyone here could see how angry he was—and then you made him laugh. ’Tis a rare thing, to hear him laugh.”
For some unaccountable reason, Rowena felt a sadness upon hearing that, but she quickly shook it off. ’Twas naught to her if the man had little enjoyment out of life. She had had little enough herself these past years.
Though she would rather have stayed and talked, feeling she might have a friend in Emma, she left the girl, too conscious of Warrick’s order to appear in his chamber—nay, in his bed. And now that her embarrassment had worn off, she had that order to deal with and the nervousness it was already generating in her.
Verily, she had him set up ripely for her seduction, or rather, he had set himself up for it with his ribald teasing earlier at the table. She need not even be subtle about it now. The only thing that could thwart her plan was if he thought she was motivated by fear, rather than by actual desire for him. She would have to appear in no way fearful. But the thought of seducing him and the actual act of seducing him were in no wise the same, and her nervousness was so close to fear, it was indistinguishable to her.
And what if ’twas all for naught, if her overtures made no difference in his treatment of her? Mildred was certain it would be otherwise, but Rowena was less so. And yet…he had been stirred to lust by a mere few words, and it had drastically changed his mood—not his treatment of her, but definitely his humor. She would just have to wait and see what further advances on her part would do.
Rowena entered the inner solar and had no more than glanced at the bed, which she had no intention of waiting in for Warrick, when he closed the door behind her. She swung around with a start. He had to have followed her as soon as she passed his table, yet he had still seemed deep in conversation. And then she noted the heat still in his eyes and she understood.
The man wanted her right now, wanted her badly. He had not been willing to wait any longer. The thought gave her a heady sense of power. ’Twould make what she would do and say so much easier. But it also, to her chagrin, stirred her own senses to arousal.
He stood there in front of the door, staring at her while he slowly unclasped his mantle. He was wearing a rich brown tunic embroidered at hem and neck in gold. The color suited his dark gold hair, grown long since his confinement at Kirkburough, to where it now reached his wide shoulders. He was not frowning, so the handsomeness of his features was there to see and disturb her senses.
Rowena found it difficult to look at him when he was like this, normal, not the cruel monster she knew he could be. Since shyness was appropriate on her part after what she had said to him in the hall, she took refuge in it and lowered her eyes.
“Come here, Rowena.”
She did not hesitate to approach him, but she would not meet his eyes again. Those expressive eyes did things to her that she could not control.
“So you want to share my bed?”
“Aye.”
“Why?”
God’s mercy, could he not take her at her word? Why? She had not thought there would be an interrogation, and could not think now with him so close.
“Why does any woman want to share a man’s bed?” she countered lamely.
“Because mine is softer than yours.”
Her eyes shot up to clash with his. The bastard. He doubted her, was going to make her work to convince him. She had not wanted to seduce him in the first place. She would be damned if she would grovel to do it.
“That is true,” she said stiffly. “Yet I do not get much sleep in yours. Mayhap mine is preferable after all.”
