Bride of the Tower Read online

  “I beg your pardon, Will.” She reached out to him; hesitating but a moment, he caught her hand in his. “I’m too quick-tempered and easily riled. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

  He raised her hand to his lips. “You’re forgiven.” His eyes warmed as he looked down at her.

  Julianna followed his gaze and saw why. She jerked the sheet—which scarcely clung to her breasts—up around her throat. “I believe you should leave so I can dress,” she informed him. “Though I don’t suggest you go far. Now that we’re both feeling better, I believe ’tis past time we discussed why you’re here, who you’re associated with—” her head still felt as though ’twould crack at the slightest provocation, but she wriggled off the edge of the high mattress to stand beside the bed “—and what you were doing with my private documents.”

  Will’s questioning look was unconvincing.

  Julianna held on to the bedpost and tried to convey a sense of command and strength. “You needn’t deny it, for I did see you with them. And I will have an explanation—soon.”

  Unsurprised by Julianna’s sudden suspicion, Will took his leave of her and returned to the chamber beside hers. In his absence the place had been cleaned: the pallet was neatly pushed against the wall; soap, a basin of fresh water, and clean clothing awaited his pleasure. Sighing his gratitude, he rubbed his whisker-covered chin and took up a candle and flint to light the room more.

  He hadn’t been certain Julianna had noticed the roll of parchment he’d held when she entered her room earlier, for it had been obvious she could barely function. He had questions for Julianna as well, questions about Rachel Belleville, and why she was here at Tuck’s Tower.

  ’Twas just as well they were to talk soon, for talk was a commodity that had been in short supply during their brief association.

  In spite of that, he felt he knew Julianna well, that the way he felt about her wasn’t a simple matter of his cock ruling his head. He wanted her, aye—what man with blood in his veins wouldn’t?—but he also enjoyed her company and her lively ways.

  Since he hadn’t been able to make his escape from Tuck’s Tower and its mistress, he might as well take that fact as a sign that he should use any time they spent together as an opportunity to know her better. If she’d give him back his message pouch, he’d happily deliver the missives, then return here on his way back to Lord Rannulf’s.

  He’d realized, when he sat watching over Julianna as she slept, that he wanted to build some sort of relationship with her. If friendship was her aim, he thought he could make do with that, though he knew he’d rather have more from her.

  Preferably her body, he thought with a wry laugh—that and more.

  A frightening thought, but one he believed was inevitable.

  One that didn’t frighten him nearly as much as the concept of not seeing her again.

  He felt surprisingly well, mind and body, especially considering he’d been senseless with fever a day earlier.

  Perhaps his life was about to take a turn for the better!

  His mood light, Will stripped and set about making himself presentable. If he wanted more from Julianna, he’d better make the best use of every advantage.

  What would she think of him once he was clean, shaved and capable of remaining on his feet for longer than a moment?

  Julianna leaned against the bedpost as soon as the door to the storeroom closed behind Will. “I thank you for your care of me, Rachel,” she said. “I doubt I’d yet be able to lift my head without it.”

  Rachel hurried to Julianna’s side and, taking hold of her arm, assisted her as she climbed back onto the edge of the bed. She sat down beside Julianna and arranged the covers about her. “I wish you’d have let me stay to help you before, for perhaps ’twould have eased your pain the sooner.”

  Julianna, struggling up out of the cocoon of sheets and blankets, gave a rueful chuckle. “True. But then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of waking with Will beside me in my bed.”

  “Lady Julianna!” A tide of pink swept up over Rachel’s cheeks.

  “No matter how closely Diccon and the other men watched over you, after the amount of time you’ve spent in the barracks, I cannot believe you’d be embarrassed by what I just said,” Julianna said as she propped herself up against the mound of pillows.

  “’Tisn’t what you said—’tis that you said it,” Rachel informed her. “Unless I misunderstood you?”

  “Nay, you took my meaning clear enough.” For some reason Julianna felt comfortable with Rachel in a way she hadn’t felt with other women, able to speak her mind. Though she didn’t know why that should be so, she had no intention of ignoring so rare a connection. “What woman wouldn’t be best pleased to awaken with Will Bowman by her side?” she added teasingly.

  Rachel’s gaze rested upon Julianna’s face for a moment, as if measuring her state of mind. Then, amusement brightening her eyes, she shook her head. “Not I. I’ve never been partial to blond, blue-eyed, handsome men. If his hair were dark, however….”

  “I’m sure we could ask Sir Will if he has any friends or compatriots—a brother, mayhap?—who would meet your requirements,” Julianna informed her, trying unsuccessfully to keep her expression serious.

  She burst out laughing at once, Rachel joining in.

  Her head still hurt, though not so badly. Shared merriment appeared to be a powerful medicine. A glance at Rachel, as the other woman continued to smile, lightened her own mood greatly. “Shall I ask him?” Julianna inquired, only half joking.

  The amusement faded from Rachel’s eyes. “’Twould serve no purpose. My brother would never permit me to wed where he had not chosen.”

  Julianna remembered the reason Rachel had fled to Tuck’s Tower and felt a fool. “I’m sorry, Rachel. I forgot that you’d a sweetheart already.”

  “Do you know, I’ve scarce thought of Roger since I left Birkland,” Rachel said. “I’ve wondered if perhaps he was so appealing to me simply because I knew Richard wouldn’t approve of him.”

  “Because he was forbidden to you?”

  “Nay—because I knew deep inside that, no matter what I’d done with Roger, I’d never be allowed to remain with him. ’Twas safe to—” Rachel glanced away “—experiment with him. I know now that Roger never touched my emotions.”

  Curious, Julianna watched Rachel closely. “How do you know that? How can you tell?”

  Rachel shrugged and turned to face her. “I realize now that ’twas the idea of kissing a man that made my heart beat faster, not the fact that Roger was the man I was kissing.”

  “Do you mean that any man would have made you feel the same?” Julianna couldn’t imagine such a thing! ’Twas Will she wanted to kiss—and more.

  No one else would do.

  “Not quite any man, but an attractive man who appealed to me.” She nodded. “Aye, I believe ’twould have had the same effect.”

  Julianna mulled that over for but a moment. As astounding as she found the fact, she knew she’d never wanted any man the way she’d wanted Will Bowman—since the moment she’d held him, had seen his face, reveled in his scent.

  To her, Will embodied all that was male.

  She’d not felt that sensation of rightness before, and she doubted she’d feel it with anyone else.

  Rachel reached over and gave Julianna’s hand a brief squeeze. “I’ve little doubt you make Sir Will’s heart beat faster. Does he do the same to yours?”

  “Is it so obvious?” Julianna’s pulse quickened as Rachel’s first comment sank into her brain. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes and yes,” Rachel said. A smile on her face, she rose. “That being so, what shall we do about it?”

  “Do we need to do anything?”

  “Do you think the fish bites at an empty hook?” Rachel asked. She crossed the chamber to the chest below the window and raised the lid, sending the fragrant scent of Lady Marian’s perfume wafting through the room. “What have you here for bait, milady?”r />
  Curious as to Rachel’s intention, Julianna swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, winding the sheet around her as a makeshift robe. “I can scarce recall what garb is stored away there,” she said as she joined Rachel, bending to peer into the coffer.

  She dropped to her knees and carefully lifted out the first garment, a dark green gown of fine silk embroidered around the neckline with pearls and gold thread. “My mother made this for me, though I’ve never worn it.” She laid it in her lap, nearly giving in to the urge to bury her face in the cool material that bore her mother’s scent. Every stitch had been made with love, Julianna knew, a gift for the daughter Lady Marian had cherished.

  Rachel knelt as well and smoothed her finger reverently over the intricate design. “’Tis lovely.” She glanced at Julianna, her eyes lingering on the mass of disheveled hair and the sheet drooping off one shoulder. Her gaze contemplative, she slipped her hands gently beneath the gown and lifted it up against Julianna’s face. “The gold and green make your eyes and skin glow,” Rachel said. “Your mother knew well what would suit you.” She nodded her approval. “Aye, this will do nicely, should you wish to capture Sir Will. He’ll not be able to resist you in this.”

  Rather than giving Julianna confidence, Rachel’s certainty brought all Julianna’s doubts to the fore. Despite her mother’s tutelage, she knew next to nothing about how to dress and act the lady.

  If she attempted such a feat, would she simply appear an unfeminine woman, a pathetic figure who had resorted to female wiles to attract a man?

  “Come, Lady Julianna.” Rachel laid the gown across Julianna’s lap and reached into the chest, drawing out an undertunic of soft gold and a while silk chemise so finely woven it reminded Julianna of mist. “You cannot ignore such beautiful clothes. ’Tis the perfect garb to catch Sir Will’s eye, though I think you’ve done that already,” she added. “If you feel well enough, I’ll help you dress and arrange your hair.”

  Considering that Rachel had managed to look appealing even when bedaubed with dust and filth—she’d found an opportunity since then to wash and change her gown, Julianna noted—perhaps ’twould be useful to see what Rachel had in mind.

  ’Twould give her an opportunity to question Rachel further as well, while they were occupied with other pursuits. Since she was feeling less inclination to interrogate the other woman, mayhap a simple conversation between them might be more effective.

  More like something friends might do.

  Her scruples appeased, Julianna gathered the gown to her chest and rose to her feet. “I’d like that,” she told Rachel. “Though whether I’m doing this for Will or for myself, I have no idea.”

  “It matters not a whit which it is, milady.” Taking Julianna by the arm, Rachel led her to a stool by the hearth. Smiling, she added, “’Twill be enjoyable either way, will it not?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Julianna stood by the stand of candles Rachel had placed by the window and gaped at her face in the polished steel mirror the other woman held.

  Rachel had brought about a miraculous transformation. Julianna stared at her reflection, scarcely able to believe that she was that elegant creature. Rachel’s gentle touch had eased Julianna’s headache while taming her unruly curls into a coil of neatly twined braids woven with gold ribbons. A sheer veil framed Julianna’s face and lent her an air of elegance.

  As for the gown…tears welled in Julianna’s eyes when she considered how well the green and gold became her. The silk hugged her body, the sensuous slide of the fabric over her skin making her feel every bit a woman. The pearls stitched around the neck of the gown lent a luminous glow to her face.

  The flush of pink tinting her cheeks, however, she attributed to her pleasure at her own appearance. “Thank you for the gift, Maman,” she whispered as she smoothed her hand over the silk once again. How her mother had discerned what would become her, Julianna didn’t know, but she was very glad she’d given in to Rachel’s suggestion.

  She was only sorry she’d waited so long to wear the clothes.

  “Ready to bait the hook, Lady Julianna?” Rachel asked with a mischievous look.

  “I am indeed.” Julianna returned her smile and swept past Rachel to the door. “Would you please have someone tell Sir William that I await him in the garden?” She tugged the door open. “They’ll need to show him where I’ll be.”

  Feeling as well-equipped for combat—or something like it, she thought with a grin—as if she were armed with her sword and dagger, Julianna set out for the battlefield she’d chosen.

  Victory would be hers.

  She’d make certain of it.

  Will trod the winding path through the herb garden with impatient steps. A servant had led him to the narrow entrance, told him to follow the walk, and left him to find his way through the dimly lit foliage.

  He brushed up against bushes and leaves, releasing a myriad of scents. The fragrance lingered on the night air and heightened his senses—as if they needed any further stimulation.

  The mere thought of Julianna awaiting him was enough to send his wits reeling. He couldn’t erase the image of her sprawled on her bed, her glorious body barely concealed by a sheet and her hair spread about her like a silken cloak. Like a fool, he’d thought of little else since he’d left her chamber; the memory had roused his body and clouded his mind. His injuries were nigh forgotten as his rebellious passion clamored for Julianna.

  He knew they’d much to discuss; secrets to be revealed, thoughts to be shared…plans to be made, if he had his way.

  Though not necessarily in that order, he thought with a quiet laugh.

  Will rounded a corner past a tall plant and found Julianna seated on a bench. She rose as he approached, moving more fully into the glow of a torch.

  She stole his breath. The feminine garb she wore shimmered in the flickering light, making her appear a mystical creature made up of moon-beams and dreams. Her gown hugged curves his hands recognized but his eyes had not seen. The neat coils of dark hair beneath her veil made his fingers ache to touch, to unwind the complicated plaits and bury his hands in Julianna’s soft curls.

  She moved, but the image remained unbroken.

  Not an illusion, but a woman.

  His woman.

  Julianna.

  “Sir Will, I’m pleased you could join me.” Her voice held an unfamiliar note—low, husky and seductive. She sat on the bench again, sliding over to make room for him beside her.

  Feeling as though he’d stepped into a dream, Will accepted her unspoken invitation and sat down. The bench was just wide enough for them both, placing them thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. Her warmth seeped into him through the thin fabric of her clothing, heating his blood and honing his senses to a higher pitch.

  The fragrance he thought of as Julianna’s came to him even over the perfume of the garden, its sweetness a perfect accompaniment to the heady night scent surrounding them. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “My lady,” he whispered, his gaze meeting hers and holding it captive. “Tell me what you want of me.”

  For a moment Julianna hesitated, unsure whether her disordered wits were capable of anything more than to demand he kiss her, that they surrender to the seduction of the night and let it take them where it would. She slipped her fingers free of his hold, but that liberty did little to diminish the spell holding them captive.

  She shook her head and rose, stepping away from him and nearly falling backward into a bed of lavender. “I cannot think with you so near,” she protested. “Damnation, that wasn’t what I meant to say!”

  Will stood and moved toward her in one smooth motion, trapping her. “Then say nothing,” he murmured.

  “Stop.” She held up her hand, whether to halt his words or to keep him at bay, she had no notion. “Will, we cannot remain here. ’Tis too—”

  “—too tempting? Seductive?” He reached up and tugged her veil away from her face, slowly winding the gauzy fabric aro
und his fingers as it slipped off her hair. “Not conducive to reasonable thought?” He leaned close and lightly touched the corner of her mouth with his tongue.

  She thought her knees might give way if he didn’t cease his torment.

  “Julianna, love, you made me feel that way in the storeroom you put me in, with me wearing a blanket and you in men’s garb.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then nuzzled her ear. He’d shaved; the brush of his smooth chin over her skin, and the scent of soap rising from him, made her heart race. “As beautiful as you are, and this place is, it makes little difference. You befuddle my mind and my senses.”

  She could barely draw a breath.

  “We could go up on the wall,” she told him, her voice faint. “The wind will clear our minds, and the guards will assure we behave ourselves.”

  Perhaps—though at the moment, she had her doubts anything could keep her passion in check.

  Will leaned against her, pressed his cheek to hers and sighed. “As you wish, milady.” Before she could respond, he caught her about the waist and swung her around to face the path. “Come along, Julianna,” he urged as he pulled her back through the garden. “I promise I’ll behave,” he said, laughing. “As long as you do.”

  Catching his enthusiasm, her heart light, she let him tug her along in his wake.

  I’ll not promise anything, she vowed silently, for I don’t intend to miss a moment of what we might share.

  The wind gusted through the narrow crenels atop the wall, pressing Julianna’s gown against her body and tugging her hair loose from the neat braids and coils Rachel had fashioned earlier. ’Twas exhilarating to stand there with Will, high above the world.

  She faced out, away from the bailey and the keep, the reminders of her responsibilities. Looking out over the moonswept trees where Sherwood drew close to the curtain wall, Julianna could almost imagine no one else existed except her and Will.

  He stood pressed close behind her, his arms round her just tight enough to hold her to him. Her hair whipped about him every so often, drawing a laugh from him that made her think he was enjoying this blustery night as much as she. His voice and laughter vibrated from him to her where his chest pressed against her back; the intimacy of that subtle touch sent a corresponding quiver of longing through her.