Saxon Lady. Margo Maguire

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СКАЧАТЬ utter poise, Lady Aelia approached him, stopping at the place where Osric lay curled on his side. “I am ready, Norman,” she said, reaching down to help her brother to his feet. She spoke softly to the lad in their Saxon tongue, then looked unflinchingly at Mathieu, with eyes the clear green of England’s fertile fields.

      Mathieu clenched his jaw and turned away, barely noticing the squire who led his horse into camp. He would not be duped by her quiescent manner, or swayed by her comely form. There were far more beautiful women in Normandy, one of whom would become his bride as soon as he returned to London.

      Mathieu mounted his horse and Auvrai lifted Lady Aelia up to the saddle in front of him. She felt small and insignificant for all her apparent composure, and he felt her tremble slightly against his armor.

      She had good reason to be nervous. Unless Selwyn was strongly motivated to save Aelia’s life, the man would have no reason to negotiate at the cost of losing Ingelwald for himself. As the warrior chosen to wed Wallis’s daughter, Selwyn had become Ingelwald’s legitimate leader. Would the Saxon care more about losing Aelia and her intractable brother, or giving up Wallis’s rich holding in what was certain to be another bloody battle?

      Without a doubt, Aelia was a desirable woman. Having spent the night dreaming of her sensual awakening, then observing the noble manner in which she’d approached him just now, Mathieu could not imagine a man in all of England who would not want her.

      But Mathieu did not know Selwyn, nor did he know how matters stood between him and the lady.

      He pulled down his visor and waited for Auvrai to mount his horse and situate Osric in front of him. A moment later, the rest of the company was ready, and Mathieu led the throng away from camp.

      He considered what to do if Selwyn refused to negotiate. There were several trees just outside Ingelwald’s walls. Mathieu had noticed one in particular, with a thick, horizontal branch suitable for hanging. If Selwyn did not surrender, Mathieu would set these two Saxons upon one horse, tie ropes ’round their necks and send the horse a-galloping. The two prisoners would strain and choke as they hung by their necks, and their legs would jerk and quiver as all of Ingelwald witnessed their deaths.

      Mathieu took a deep breath and inhaled Aelia’s scent. He felt her softness against him and hardened his thoughts against any unwelcome mercy.

      She was his prisoner, nothing more. And there was no excuse for his thoughts to keep returning to his arousing dream, or to wonder if he could make those sighs of pleasure that he’d imagined real. Better to think of Lady Aelia with a stout rope around her pretty neck.

      Or not think of her at all.

      Mathieu and Auvrai took the main path, while the men who flanked them rode through the sparse woods. Mathieu had decided to approach Ingelwald with only a few men visible. The rest would remain beyond the line of trees near the Saxon holding, awaiting the results of the parley that would take place with Selwyn. He had already instructed the herald, Gilbert de Bosc, on what was to be said, and that he wanted the Saxon’s words translated.

      “Will you allow me to speak to Selwyn?” his captive asked.

      “I am no fool, Lady Aelia. Either he agrees or he does not. I am prepared for either decision.”

      She took a shuddering breath. “If he agrees, then we will become your slaves. If he refuses, then you must execute me. And Osric.”

       Chapter Four

       ’T was still early when they reached the walls of Aelia’s home. The morning was cold and clear, all the better for Selwyn and the others to observe her sitting astride the Norman’s massive steed. To bear witness to her defeat.

      Aelia swallowed reflexively. A light breeze ruffled her hair and her muscles tightened in spite of her resolve to appear serene. Her body was so tense with her hatred for this Norman scoundrel, she felt her bones might break if she moved even slightly.

      The Norman herald rode forth and blew his horn. Then he called out to those who waited beyond the walls. “Hear ye, men of Ingelwald!”

      Aelia clasped her hands into fists in her lap and gazed up at the high battlements. Without a weapon, and with no hope of escape, she could do naught but wait upon Selwyn’s pleasure. Would he trade Ingelwald for her life?

      Aelia felt Fitz Autier’s breath in her hair, his powerful arms like steel bands around her. His armored thighs bracketed her hips, making her feel inadequate and small. Fitz Autier was ready for battle, but what about her? She and Osric were unprotected. If Selwyn commanded the archers to fire upon them, Aelia and her brother could easily be wounded or killed.

      She glanced over at Osric, who was struggling against the Norman knight who held him fast, and felt an unrelenting urge to grab him and run.

      ’Twas impossible. They were doomed, unless some practical plan suddenly came into her head.

      But she’d been over it a hundred times. Selwyn would never give up Ingelwald for her. If he could win this battle against the Normans, her father’s rich holding would belong to him. The Normans would kill her and Osric, and Selwyn would have no rival for possession of the estate.

      Aelia could not see any way for her to win.

      “Selwyn will not barter for me.”

      Fitz Autier said naught, but Aelia felt his breath leave him. Whether ’twas in anger or frustration, she did not know. He must have hoped he could engage in a peaceful exchange—her life for Ingelwald. Now he would have to win it in battle.

      And execute her on principle.

      “After my father died, I told Selwyn I would not wed him. He has no claim to Ingelwald unless I am dead.”

      The Norman tightened his grip on the reins and turned his horse, signaling Sir Auvrai to follow. “You might have mentioned this before now, demoiselle.” His tone was gruff, ill-tempered.

      She took a deep, quavering breath and held on to the horse’s mane. “I thought—”

      Aelia heard the first arrow hit Fitz Autier’s armor, but he seemed to suffer no damage. He retreated so fast she had difficulty seeing whether the other knight followed him to the safety of the trees. They were under attack, and Aelia felt the Norman lean over her to protect her from the volley of arrows that rained down from her father’s high walls.

      She did not understand. Why didn’t he just throw her into the line of fire and be done with her?

      Fitz Autier’s mounted regiments advanced, but the soldiers made way for their leader as he rode through their ranks, retreating well behind the line of battle.

      He beckoned two of his foot soldiers. “Take this woman and her vexing brother back to camp!” She felt his hands encircle her arms and he swung her to the ground. “Tie them securely, and don’t take your eyes off them.” He lowered his visor and turned toward Ingelwald as Sir Auvrai dropped Osric unceremoniously beside her.

      Aelia watched the two Normans turn to the battle. Neither one looked back.

      The sounds of battle horns and clashing swords raged in Aelia’s ears. She barely noticed her hands being bound by the Norman guards, nor did she heed Osric’s torrent of curses and complaints when they were tied together with a sturdy rope. She heard men’s angry voices СКАЧАТЬ