Bride of the Tower Page 7

“How could Dora keep me in bed if I chose to leave it?” Will pointed out. When he asked the question, Lady Julianna turned her attention back to him. He pushed away from the wall and faced her squarely. He felt fine, stronger than but a moment earlier—perhaps the foul draught Dora gave him had already done its work. Behind them, Dora squawked something, but they both ignored her. “She couldn’t keep me abed if she tried! Look at her, she’s but a tiny bit of a thing! She scarce reaches my shoulder.”

  “Did she try to stop you?”

  “She spoke to me, aye—told me not to get up—but what else could she do? ’Twould be foolish for her to try anything more than that.” He didn’t doubt he could have sent the frail old woman flying across the room even in his present condition, had he been so ill-natured. “Not that I’d have harmed her had she done anything more.”

  “Then you’re both mad,” Lady Julianna stated with conviction.

  “Why is that?” Will asked. He wished she’d get to the point, for despite his renewed sense of strength, he knew not how long ’twould keep him on his feet.

  Lady Julianna leaned down and snatched a crumpled drying cloth from a pile on the floor. Grinning, she swept her gaze over him as she handed it to him. “Because, Sir William, you’re stark naked.”

  Chapter Nine

  Muttering a curse, Will jerked the piece of linen from Julianna and attempted to wrap it about his waist. The ends didn’t quite meet, she noted, but it covered the most important parts.

  Unfortunately.

  Evidently he felt little embarrassment about his state of dishabille, however, for he met her gaze squarely, lips quirked into a slightly mocking smile as he pushed away from the wall and walked past her. Mary save her, but he was a temptation….

  Nonetheless, his pale face and the shadow of pain in his eyes hinted that sheer determination alone kept him on his feet.

  Dora continued to rant in the background, more or less ignored by Julianna—as was often the case when Dora was in this state. With Will as a distraction, ’twas all she could do to keep from pushing the woman out the door without a moment’s hesitation—though what she’d do once she and Will were alone was a mystery to her. As the gist of Dora’s tirade became clear, however, she forced her attention back to the maid.

  “Enough, Dora!” Julianna cautioned. She regretted her sharp manner as soon as the words left her mouth, and she could see the hurt in the old woman’s wrinkled face. She softened her tone. “I’m mistress of this holding now, a woman grown—not a child within your care any longer. I’ll not be ordered from my own chambers for any reason. Sir William has not offended me, I assure you.”

  Far from it, though she’d no intention of sharing that fact with either of them.

  Moving nearer to the petite woman, Julianna gently enveloped her in her arms. “Let me deal with this, please,” she whispered as she held the maid close for a moment.

  Dora returned the gesture and stepped back, veil and wimple askew—the usual result of Julianna’s embrace. “Aye, milady,” she replied with a solemn nod. “I was only saying what your own lady mother would have done. I swore to her I’d protect you—”

  “Dora.” Julianna held up her hand, the gesture—and the fierce look that went with it—effectively cutting off Dora’s oft-repeated refrain. She’d no intention of allowing Dora to work herself into a tizzy—as she’d done too many times in the past—over what a proper lady should and should not do. Dora’s strictures were prompted by love for both Lady Marian and Julianna. Allowing them to continue would serve no purpose but to inflame Julianna’s impatience with the well-intentioned old woman.

  A resigned expression passed fleetingly over Dora’s face, followed by an avid glance at Will. She leaned closer to Julianna and whispered, “Indeed, milady, how could you help but look? He is a fine figure of a man, don’t you think?”

  Julianna heard a muffled laugh from Will. Evidently his head wound hadn’t affected his hearing—not that Dora’s attempt at a whisper was difficult to hear, at any rate. She wondered what he thought about Dora’s comment, but fought the temptation to glance his way to see—lest he notice her agreement with Dora’s assessment echoed in her own expression.

  Instead, she reached down and twitched Dora’s head covering back into place, smiling as she carried out the familiar act. “Dora, don’t you start your nonsense now.” She gave in to temptation and added, not bothering to lower her voice—which shook with amusement, “Wait until he’s stronger, at least. Otherwise you’re apt to frighten him witless.”

  “You might be surprised, milady,” Dora replied in her normal tone. She gave Julianna a gentle nudge in the ribs before stepping away, the mischievous glint in her eyes at odds with her innocent expression. “Though I’m thinking—” she glanced at Will, her expression admiring “—he didn’t look too upset to be standing before you in all the glory the good Lord gave him.”

  She smoothed down her gown and slipped past Julianna to the door. Hand on the latch, she turned and dropped a curtsey. “It’s most definitely been a pleasure to meet you, Sir William,” she said, her voice nigh a purr and a teasing smile brightening her face. “And to see you, well….”

  “Dora,” Julianna cautioned, giving the maid a stern glare.

  “Adieu, Lady Julianna. Until later, Sir William,” Dora added with a nod before she left, closing the door quietly behind her.

  Julianna shook her head at the old woman’s inconsistent standards. Those Dora claimed defined a lady’s morals and behavior seemed oppressive and boring, while those she applied to herself were a bit too bold for Julianna’s taste.

  Her own standards fell somewhere in between the two extremes.

  “Milady,” Will interrupted her thoughts. “Am I confused and feverish again, or did I notice that old woman flirting with me?”

  Julianna shifted to face him. He’d moved to stand near the narrow window slit, a blanket knotted loosely about his hips and covering him to his ankles, one arm resting along the edge of the stone embrasure. She buried her disappointment that he’d wrapped up as much as he had; she far preferred his earlier garb, brief as it had been, she thought, suppressing a mischievous smile.

  “Nay, she was serious,” she told him solemnly as she joined him. Seeing him in the bright light streaming through the opening, she realized he’d likely taken up his relaxed stance against the wall by the window for support, and to disguise the fact that he was ready to collapse. His blond hair fell in disarray to his shoulders, which drooped with weariness. His face beneath several days’ growth of beard was haggard and pale. She sighed. If she were to unwind the bandages covering his wounds, she’d likely find them spotted with blood again.

  “Lady Julianna.” Evidently he felt well enough to stand there talking, or wished to appear so.

  Why hadn’t he returned to his pallet at once after Dora had left them, instead of carrying out this pretense that he was strong enough to be on his feet, standing about the chamber?

  What a ridiculous question, Julianna! Had the sight of Will scrambled her wits still more? What man would take to his pallet if he could manage to prop himself upright? Never mind that he’d be back in that bed—and feverish again, no doubt—before much more time passed. She’d do him no favor by keeping him here talking.

  But how to convince him to return to bed?

  “Milady? Are you well?”

  Why wouldn’t she be?

  “Julianna?” At his questioning look, she nodded. “Aye, of course. I was simply…distracted by the thought of some tasks I neglected.” Distracted, yes—by him, in every way.

  Mayhap he was tired of lying abed, and the warm sun shining on him had to feel good. If he began to topple over, she’d simply have to catch him.

  Again.

  Wouldn’t that be a hardship? she asked herself mockingly.

  Would the blanket remain in place if he fell?

  Sweet Mary, what was wrong with her? She should spend an entire day and night on her knees in the cha
pel, praying for forgiveness for the sin of lust.

  Such penitence would mean little, however, if she didn’t regret her lecherous thoughts.

  Regret them? Amusement sent a bubble of laughter from her lips. Nay, she relished every one.

  She peeked at him from beneath her lashes—his muscular chest and arms exposed, their dusting of dark blond curls a temptation she could scarce ignore; his blond hair tousled, his bewhiskered face giving him the look of temptation personified. Nay, ’twas not regret making her heart beat faster and her flesh burn for more than a mere glimpse of him.

  Nay, this was lust. And if it was a sin to feel this way, then she’d be damned for it; she intended to enjoy every moment of it—even if all she did was imagine what ’twould be like to lie with him. ’Twould be worth a thousand “Our Fathers” or whatever penance she must perform.

  Will touched her shoulder briefly with his hand, startling her from her reverie and sending a wave of heat rushing up to color her cheeks at the lurid bent of her thoughts. “Lady Julianna, are you all right?” He watched her closely, his blue eyes far too perceptive for her comfort.

  “O-of course,” she stammered. He cannot see what is in your mind, Julianna, she chided herself. Thank goodness.

  Drawing a calming breath, she caged her wayward thoughts and tucked them away for further contemplation later. “About Dora…Truly, I’m sure she meant what she said. Though she wouldn’t want me to tell you outright, Dora does enjoy men.”

  Will snorted and his eyes lit with amusement. “That much is obvious! But she’s old—”

  “As she’s fond of saying, she may be old, but she’s not dead. Nor is she blind.” Julianna chuckled. “I doubt she said a single word to warn you of your state of undress, did she?”

  “If she had, I’d not have been parading about in front of her—or you—without covering myself with something first,” he assured her.

  Thank you, Dora, for your “restraint.”

  Julianna smiled. “I’ll wager she’s already gone upstairs to the solar to gossip with her friends, describing you to them in glorious detail, all of them spinning tales about their past adventures as fast as they spin wool.”

  An expression of horror crossed his face. “You don’t think she really believes I’d be…interested in her, do you?”

  “Most likely she doesn’t,” she assured him. “If she thought you were a likely target, she’d have tried much harder to fix your interest. And if she was serious, she’d not have teased you about your garb…or lack of it. Not in front of me.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t have stood there in front of you in all my ‘glory,’ as Dora put it, had I realized I was stark naked, either.” His lips curved into a teasing smile, and a hint of challenge brightened his blue eyes. “At least not till we’ve come to know each other a little better.”

  “That would have been a shame,” she couldn’t resist saying, “for most assuredly ’twas a sight to brighten any maiden’s day.”

  Was that her voice, so low and intimate? She hadn’t known she could sound like that!

  “I thank you, milady,” he said with a nod. He leaned toward her, closing the distance between them. A tempting smile brightened his face and made her heart beat faster. “’Tis every knight’s desire to gratify a fair maid.” He reached out, pushed an errant wisp of dark hair back from her cheek and tucked it gently behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the sensitive skin of her neck for a moment. “I’m honored to have pleased you.” His hand slipped forward to cup her face. “’Twould be my pleasure to please you more,” he added, his voice as much a caress as his feathery touch.

  She could feel the warmth of his body, smell the scent she already recognized as Will’s. Though she knew she should move away, her traitorous body refused to obey her mind’s command.

  Instead she moved nearer to him, her mouth softening for the brush of his lips. She returned the faint pressure, savoring the slight rasp of his whiskers on her chin as he bent over her and trailed his tongue over the seam of her mouth before he covered her lips for a more drawn-out kiss.

  Heat filled her, sensitizing her flesh and making her bold. Throwing all caution to the wind, Julianna brought her hands up to cup Will’s face, and gave herself over to the joy of desire freely shared.

  Chapter Ten

  His lips were cool and tasted of mint and spring water, Julianna noted absently, but heat radiated from him where their bodies pressed together. She smoothed her hands over his cheeks and jaw, as much because she couldn’t help but savor the brush of his beard-roughened face against the sensitive skin of her palms as to check for fever. Her flesh tingled from the subtle caress, but she wrenched her focus to Will, the injured warrior—though her sense of him purely as male to her female nigh threatened to overwhelm her judgment.

  She felt no hint of fever on his face…a relief, after the past few days.

  And a pleasure as well, she considered—could it be that he burned with the same fire that smoldered through her veins?

  The thought alone made her heart leap within her breast and set her pulse pounding harder.

  Did he feel the same desire—one that sharpened her senses, made her yearn to cast aside a lifetime’s worth of caution?

  Oh, how she hoped he did!

  He slipped his hand along her neck and cupped her nape beneath her braid, burying his fingers in her hair. There was no weakness in his touch; Will’s hold, though gentle, revealed the power of the muscular arms wrapped securely about her.

  Julianna drew a shuddering breath and released it slowly. She found the contrast of strength and tenderness stimulating—nigh overwhelming—and savored every nuance of it. His lips urged her to madness, a compulsion she could not help but obey.

  Will fought the insistent drive to grab at Julianna, to thrust her up against the wall and press his aching flesh into her softness until they both found sweet release. His body had not yet cooled from the passionate dreams of her that had haunted his restless sleep; the reality of her in his arms made his hurts and woes naught but a memory too weak to regard.

  Instead he concentrated on Julianna—took his time, kept his kiss slow and measured, a deliberate act intended to draw her into the same heightened awareness that held him captured within its spell.

  At first she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. She rested them on his shoulders, her touch hesitant, tentative, not at all what he craved. He caught her hands in his and placed them at his waist, holding them there until her tension eased.

  Will sucked in a shaky breath and rested his forehead on her cheek as she touched him of her own volition. Her hands were strong and sure on the sensitive flesh of his stomach, the burst of pleasure she engendered nigh sending him to his knees.

  Eyes closed, he cradled her face with his hands for a moment and savored the sensation. Once he had his body under control once more, he raised his head and stared into her eyes. She stared back at him, the amber in her eyes turned to deep gold. She looked drugged with pleasure, and a glint of curiosity lightened her gaze.

  “Did I hurt you?” Julianna asked sharply. She jerked her hands away from him and held them out to her sides, the movement putting a mere handbreadth of distance between them.

  A mere handbreadth…yet it was too far.

  He stroked her jaw with his fingertips and twisted his lips into a wry smile. The loss of contact with her sent an ache through him as painful in its way as the wounds that still throbbed beneath his bandages. “Only when you moved away,” he murmured.

  She put her hand out and, her touch tentative, brushed her fingers carefully along his uninjured arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—”

  “’Twas not a physical pain, Julianna,” he assured her. “You didn’t harm me.” Though he wanted to move her hands back to him, he restrained himself; he’d far prefer a caress freely given. Instead he buried his fingers into her hair and tugged the wavy strands free of the loose braid. He gave a wry smile. “’Twas the sens
e of loss I felt when you took your hands from me. Will you touch me again?”

  “If ’tis your desire.” Her gaze considering, she watched his face while she rested her palms on his stomach. “If you’re certain it won’t cause you any further hurt, Will.”

  “Nay, I’m fine.” Only a mortal wound could keep him from this play. Curious as to what she’d do next, he simply stood and watched her, hoping she’d not turn timid now.

  Amusement—mixed with a tinge of curiosity—lit her face as she slipped her fingers lingeringly over the ridged muscles of his belly, then slid them to his waist, drawing out the teasing motion till he thought he’d go mad. The movement almost brought their lower bodies into contact again, and made the blanket knotted at his hips sink a bit lower.

  He doubted ’twould slide off, however—not with his arousal tenting the soft wool fabric in a most obvious manner.

  Her expression a challenge, Julianna took advantage of the additional exposed flesh and dragged her nails through the hair curling about his navel.

  Will bit back a most unholy plea to the Virgin Mother. “If I told you all I desire of you at this moment, milady—” he shifted his legs and widened his stance, settling himself against her and trapping her hands—and his arousal—between them “—you would likely flee this chamber as swiftly as you could go.”

  She smiled and made no effort to free her hands or to move away. “You cannot believe me to be so fainthearted.” The faint scent of flowers he already associated with Julianna intensified as he combed through the tousled mass to the ends, the fragrance of roses and lavender a heady complement to the sensation of her hair brushing his skin. He shuddered. “You are so very lovely, milady,” he whispered. “A warrior goddess fit to send a man to his knees before you.”

  She held his gaze warily at his words, then seemed to ease her vigilance. Her smile widened and rosy color tinted her cheeks. “Now there’s a vision fit to gladden a lady’s heart.” Her voice was low, and shook with amusement…and something more?