The Rose and the Shield (Medieval 2)

The mockery in his voice surprised her. He appeared so unruffled, and yet his voice was anything but.

“Why should it matter to you what I believe?” She spoke hastily, angry with him, herself, and Arno. But even as the words were spoken she was wondering if it did matter to him, if, like herself, Gunnar Olafson did not think Harold the miller should be hanged for what he had done. Curiously, she went on, “What is it that troubles you, Captain Olafson? Do you doubt what you have heard? Or is it just that you trust no one?”

Something gleamed in his eyes and was gone. He smiled coldly. “It is true I trust no one, lady.”

“I can see that a man who takes coin to kill would find trust difficult.”

She thought for a moment he might speak up for himself, tell her that she was wrong, but instead he shrugged in a manner designed to let her know her opinions were nothing to him.

“Do you know Lord Fitzmorton well, lady?”

He had surprised Rose. Did she know Lord Fitzmorton well? Now there was a question.

For a moment time slipped and she was a child again, gazing up, defiantly, into that brutal, handsome face.

Do as you are told, girl!

And then the stinging blow across her cheek, and her mother flying out of the shadows to her side. Angry, clutching arms, her face turned in quivering fury to the man.

Don’t touch her! Don’t you touch her, ever!

But he had.

Rose’s gaze refocused, and somehow she managed an indifferent shrug to accompany the lie. “I do not know him well, Captain. Lord Radulf is my overlord, and Lord Fitzmorton is no friend of his.”

Gunnar’s face still showed nothing and yet she felt the full intensity of his interest. Had he read her secrets in her face?

“If Lord Radulf is your overlord, why did you not go to him when your village was first attacked? Why did you not ask him for extra men to help you guard your manor?”

Because Arno advised me not to! Because he said Radulf would consider me weak and incapable.

Rose would never tell him that. Why should she? He would probably agree with Radulf.

The color was hot now in her face but she refused to look away from those piercing blue eyes. Anger began to uncoil inside her. How dared he question her like this? As if she were his servant rather than the other way around.

“That is not your business.”

He smiled, and the beauty of it quite simply took away her breath. Several women standing nearby gasped and stopped what they were doing, admiring him. Rose shot them a glare and they returned hastily to their business.

“I am being paid to protect you, lady,” Gunnar said. “I was but trying to earn my money.”

“You are being paid to do as you are told, Captain, and to keep your tongue still.”

Arno would have stalked away if spoken to like that. Edric would have shaken his head sadly at her lack of manners. Rose shuddered to think what her father or brother would have done.

Gunnar Olafson laughed.

Shocked, Rose stared as he threw back his head in genuine amusement, and then looked down at her with such blazing warmth in his eyes that it was difficult for her to breathe. There was silence in the hall, but Rose could not take her gaze from his.

“My tongue is a matter of interest to you, lady?” His murmur was soft, seductive.

“Of course not!” But she was breathless again, her cheeks hot, her hands trembling.

“No?” He gave her his smile, and now there was no doubting the predatory gleam in his eyes, the desire to have her. Rose felt the overwhelming urge to take that one step forward and press her body to his, lift her mouth to his. Give herself over completely to him.

Stop it! Stop it now!

“I…there are things I must do. I…forgive me, Captain, I…”