The Lily and the Sword (Medieval 1)
He smiled and stretched, more carefully this time. His muscles rippled, and Lily had the impression of enormous strength held in check. “Probably not,” he replied. “William will not see me punished for something I have not done, but neither can he appear to be one-sided. Lord Kenton has always supported him during the years of war, and he will be watching for bias. Now do what you must. I have to go.”
Radulf watched her, enjoying the view. His wife’s hair hung well past her hips, the ends tickling against her thighs. A silver screen for her modesty. Radulf’s body tightened as he spied the soft curls between her legs and one jutting pink nipple.
At such a moment as this he should be thinking of what he would say to William and Lord Kenton, not how much he would like to toss his wife upon the bed and ride her until they were both breathless!
“Hurry, lady,” he said in as stern a voice as he could manage.
Lily turned hastily toward the door.
“Lady?”
She turned with a sigh. “You told me to hurry. What is it now?”
Radulf gave her a slow, careful perusal. “If you go out into the other room like that, you’ll have my entire garrison standing to attention.”
Startled gray eyes met his, and then Lily gasped and quickly snatched up her shift and threw it over her head, tugging her hair impatiently out of the way. Radulf leaned back and watched her dress, enjoying the warm flush of her cheeks and the supple, smooth flesh of all those delectable curves.
Lily flung out of the room at last, and Radulf sighed as the door closed. He had thought to simplify things by meeting with Anna; instead, they were even more complicated. He shut his eyes and wondered how he would extract himself from the mess.
If only he were going into battle instead. Sometimes the sword was so much easier to wield than the tongue.
Lily found Una in the kitchen, sleeves rolled high as she dealt with a huge mound of dough. “Lady, there is ale and warm bread for Lord Radulf. If he is well enough to eat…?”
Lily sniffed. “I believe he is well able to eat, Una.” She began to gather together the items necessary for Radulf’s breakfast and the changing of his bandage, placing them upon a tray. In the other room Jervois was giving the men their instructions. He gave Lily a polite greeting, looking so tired and serious that her ill-temper drained from her.
The matter was serious. Lord Kenton had as much as accused Radulf of murder. Radulf must defend himself, and without placing his king in a position where he must choose between his friend and Lord Kenton. Lily wondered if kings were really to be trusted in such a situation. They were just men, after all.
What would happen to Radulf if Kenton was believed? Would he be arrested and flung into a dungeon? Would he have to fight? Would he have to die? How could she bear such a thing now, when she had just discovered her love for him? Better that she had not known such wonderous feelings, than that they should be taken from her so soon!
She shivered and then readjusted her expression before she entered the bedchamber. It would not do for Radulf to realize how scared she was for him. Better that she bind his wound and feed him and send him off in good cheer.
Radulf gave her a lazy smile as she closed the door behind her. Lily set down the tray and handed him the mug of ale. He swallowed it all without pause. When he’d finished, Lily rested her fingers briefly against his cheek.
“The fever is gone,” she said. “I can see why some think you more than mortal.”
“Ah, but you know better, mignonne.”
Lily ignored him, unwrapping the bindings about his shoulder. The swelling about the joint had reduced but the flesh still appeared bruised and tender. Carefully, Lily smoothed more of her poultice upon it and rebound it, as he had requested, in a less bulky bandage. Meanwhile Radulf finished his bread and, after another mug of ale, swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Go and get Jervois,” he said. “I will wear my armor.”
Lily’s eyes widened in alarm. “Radulf, it will cause you agony!”
He shrugged, manipulating his shoulder carefully, circling it this way and then that. The eyes that turned to hers had lost all humor. “Better some discomfort than a blade through the heart, lady.”
“Could it come to that?”
He shrugged, winced, and stood up. Naked, he somehow seemed larger than ever, with his thickly muscled legs and broad chest, the breadth of his shoulders. The giant of legend, the indestructible Radulf.
“I hope not. But if Kenton thinks I am to blame for his wife’s death, he may take matters into his own hands.” He reached for his breeches and paused, glancing at her sideways, almost slyly. “Would you care, Lily?”
Lily blinked, caught her breath and released it slowly, letting go of her sense of terror and loss. He did not want to hear such things. It was the cool Lily he wanted, the untouchable Viking princess. “What use is a dead husband to me?” she asked calmly. “The Conqueror will only find me another.”
He laughed as if he had expected it of her, and began to pull on the breeches. The curving muscles of his buttocks tightened with the movement. The skin of his broad back was scarred from battle but despite that, or maybe because of it, the urge to touch him was almost irresistible. Lily’s fingers clenched to stop them from reaching out…
Abruptly she turned away.
“I will fetch Jervois,” she said.