“Lady, your negotiation skills are a force to be reckoned with,” he said, a twinkle in his dark eyes. “Those men never stood a chance.”
She cocked an eyebrow and took his elbow. “Which do you think they would choose to face? My ultimatum or your fist?”
He grinned, patting the hand on his elbow as he turned in the direction of the keep. “My fist, without question.”
Ellowyn’s expression softened and a grin surfaced. “Unfortunately, today they received both. They will think twice before they attempt to take your castle again.”
He simply lifted his eyebrows. “Of that I have no doubt.”
The keep of Guildford was strictly for the duke’s residence, as Ellowyn quickly discovered. After mounting a long flight of steep and at times treacherous stairs, the keep itself was three-storied, with a big armory on the lower floor, accessible by an exterior door. A wooden flight of stairs led to the first floor of the keep, which only contained one big room with a massive fireplace, and a latrine. Brandt used the room as his solar, his war room when he was in residence. There was a big oak table, scattered rubbish, and a pair of dogs near the hearth, but for the most part, the room looked stripped.
A very narrow spiral staircase built into the wall of the keep led to another big room on the second floor. This was Brandt’s bedchamber, but Ellowyn could see from the expression on his face that it was not how he left it. It had been looted and items scattered, just like the solar below. There was a wardrobe and an enormous bed that was a big, jumbled mess. Surveying the chaos, Brandt shook his head.
“I apologize for the state of the room,” he said. “Whoever was staying here was most careless.”
Ellowyn ventured into the room, surveying the chamber as she went. When she came to the bed, she peered at the linens and coverlet without touching them. She made a face when she saw the state of the linen.
“No matter,” she said, eyeing the bed distastefully before turning to him. “I shall clean it up. Are there any women servants to assist me?”
Brandt shook his head. “I did not keep female servants,” he replied. “They are far too much trouble. My father never had female servants, either.”
Ellowyn eyed the dirty bed again. “Then if you can simply provide me with two or three soldiers, I can make do. It is apparent that this keep has not seen a woman’s hand in some time. It shows.”
“I will not dispute that point.”
Ellowyn began to remove her wrap and gloves. “Not to worry,” she said. “I shall make this place livable in no time.”
A smile creased his lips. “Of that I have no doubt,” he said softly. “If it will make your life easier, then I will find a few female servants to assist you.”
She pulled the gloves off, looking at him. “I would appreciate it,” she said. Then she started rattling off her priorities. “But until they arrive, I will need lye and vinegar and… oh, never mind. I can find it myself. I am sure you have more important duties to attend to.”
She was taking charge again. “Nothing is more important than you,” he said softly.
Ellowyn paused in her bustle, eyeing him with a somewhat flirtatious smile. “That is a very sweet statement,” she said. “You are becoming quite adept at being sweet to me.”
He wriggled his eyebrows. “It is becoming easier with practice.”
“You may practice all you wish.”
They grinned at each other for a moment until he made his way over to her and wrapped her up in his big arms. She was sweet and soft and supple, smelling of that lovely sesame oil that made her skin so soft. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her fragrance, losing himself in her deliciousness.
“This place has been in my family for many years,” he murmured. “It is where I was born, in this very room in fact. But it has only been a possession. It has never been a home. Perhaps it is the closest thing I have to a home, however. Now, with you in its walls, perhaps… perhaps it will start to feel more like a home for my heart than a house for my body. Perhaps it will become something that means something to me rather than just a possession where I lay my head. Does that make any sense?”
Ellowyn pulled away to look him in the eye. “You lied to me.”
He looked shocked. “When did I do such a disgraceful thing?”
She smiled, touching his rough cheek. “You told me you were not good with words, but you lied,” she insisted. “You are very good with words. You say the most wonderful things.”
His soft expression returned. “You have made it easy,” he whispered. “You have made a great many things easy for me, Wynny. It has endeared you to me more than you can possibly know.”
Gazing into his magnificent face, Ellowyn was struck with how much she loved the man. She didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but as she looked at him, she couldn’t remember when she hadn’t loved him. Powerful, commanding, handsome, kind, and sometimes socially awkward, Brandt had quickly come to mean everything to her. And then he was going to go back to France and leave her all alone. The knowledge of that tore her to shreds and tears filled her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.
Brandt had seen the tears no matter how quickly she had moved to hide them. He held her snuggly, his face in the side of her head.
“Why do you weep?” he asked. “What is the matter?”
She shook her head. Then, she sobbed. “I do not want you to leave me,” she whispered tightly. “Brandt, the thought of you returning to France, the thought of us being separated, claws at me like a great fanged beast. Being apart from you will surely kill me.”
