Chapter Six
Gillian's fists ached from pounding on the door. Damn her husband for locking her up like this! Kept prisoner in her own home. Not even Thomas would unlock the door. Had she no voice at Lyndon anymore?
She went to the arrow slit and peered out. From here, she couldn't see much, but the battle seemed to be ending. Where was her husband? And Simon? Had he survived unscathed? She prayed so.
She sat on the bed, but jumped up as she recalled what had occurred there last eve.
She never wanted to share that bed again.
She picked up her bow and lowered herself into a chair by the hearth.
Taking a cloth from the quiver, she wiped the weapon down, cleaning it of the sweat from her hands and any dirt acquired during her brief time on the ramparts.
Again, she silently cursed her husband. She'd done nothing but help and he acted as though she'd committed a crime. Did he not understand that with her assistance, he stood a better chance of defeating the rebels?
The sound of the key grating in the lock drew her from her thoughts. She put down the bow and stood. The door swung open, Royce filling the frame. Her heart raced.
He stepped into the room and shut the door, barring it against intruders. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Fury still lined his face and all of it was directed at her.
"Why didn't you tell me of the hidden door?"
"You didn't ask."
He clenched his fists and took one step closer. She lifted her chin, refusing to cower.
"I will have no secrets kept from me." His voice was steady, and calm.
"'Tis no secret the door is there. It was built for escape." Yet, even as she spoke the words, she suspected he meant other secrets. She had others.
"Do not toy with me."
He stepped closer still, laying his hand on the back of her neck. He drew her near.
"Do you know how close you came to being killed today?"
His warm breath fanned her cheek. The sensation stirred things she shouldn't be thinking of. Not now.
"I was never in any danger, my lord."
"No danger? What about the arrows that narrowly missed striking you?"
"I avoided them, did I not?"
"Your sass will not help you. 'Tis bad enough you disobey at every turn, but your behavior is unseemly."
"I defended my home and will do so again, if I must!"
"The baroness has escaped."
Gillian sucked in a deep breath. "Nay! How... I don't understand."
"Someone from inside must have helped her."
She gaped at him. Surely, he didn't think...
"'Twas not I, my lord. You are mad if you think I'd do anything to help that witch."
"Nay, but the attack was also curiously timed. 'Twould seem Lyndon may have a traitor in its midst."
Gillian straightened her spine. "And you think 'tis me."
"I don't know what to think. But I know one thing. You will not disobey me again."
He reached for her bow. Curiosity piqued, Gillian studied him warily.
"My lord, what are you doing?" She stepped close to him and grabbed for the weapon, but he held it out of her reach.
"What I should have done when I first learned you possessed it. You must now face the consequences of your foolishness."
He strode to the door and yanked it open, calling for Thomas. When the steward arrived, Royce held the bow out to him.
"Lock this away where she cannot get to it. I'll decide later if I will destroy it."
"Nay!"
Her scream echoed through the room. She ran to him, but he turned, blocking her attempts to grab the bow before he handed it to Thomas. The steward stepped back when she whirled, ready to lunge. Royce grasped her arm, halting her.
"Go! Now!" His order thundered over Gillian's protests.
The tall man hurried away. Gillian called for him to stop and tried to break free of her husband's grip, but he held her firmly while he shut the door and slid the bar into place. He finally faced her, his hand tightening on her arm.
"You will not place yourself in such danger again, do you understand?"
"How could you? That was made especially for me as a gift from my father!" She again tried to pull free, but he did not loosen his grip.
"It almost got you killed today. Perhaps now you will learn when I give an order, I expect it to be heeded."
"I didn't do anything other than what would be expected if I'd been born a son." Angry tears blurred her vision as she shouted at him.
"You were born a daughter and you are my wife. I won't allow you to endanger yourself or make me look like a fool."
His bellow made her wince. She jerked her arm free and ran across the room, the bed between them somehow a protective barrier.
"Better you had beaten me instead."
"Have no doubt, I will."
"You bastard!"
He said nothing, simply strode toward her.
When he rounded the side of the bed, she made a dive across.
Scrambling as fast as she could, she jumped off the other side and ran for the door.
Before she could lift the bar, his arm snaked around her waist, hauling her back against him.
She howled her frustration, kicked, pulled at his arm, but couldn't break away.
He dragged her back toward the bed. Amidst her attempts to squirm free, she found her wrists caught.
As if he barely noticed her resistance, he sat on the bed and stretched her across his lap.
She continued to kick and scream, but he merely lifted her skirts before pinning her legs between his.
The first blow landed, hard and sharp. She shrieked in outrage. Another blow, and another, and still another, until fire raged in her arse. She tugged against his hold, then inhaled sharply.
He paused to reach between her legs. Heat scorched her cheeks to know he'd discovered her shameful secret.
She twisted her head to look at him. A shiver passed over her at the odd smile curling his lips.
He returned his fingers to her pussy, teasing and stroking until her cries softened to moans and pleading whimpers.
His fingers could make her forget her anger.
"Do you like that, Wildcat?"
A low moan escaped her when he thrust his fingers deep inside her. The heat in her arse added to the tumult and lust fogged her thoughts. She should be fighting him, but what he did felt too good. If he kept up, she would come, and she strained against him, aching for the release.
The sudden withdrawal of his fingers left her breathless. Gillian turned to look at him, a pang of alarm screeching along her spine to see his stern expression, his tawny eyes cold.
"No pleasure for you. You're being punished."
She barely had a moment to ponder his meaning when he struck her arse again.
Hard. This time, the pain seemed more intense.
He struck again and again and she squeezed her eyes shut to contain her tears.
The pain blended with the desire he'd stirred, until both sensations became one raging blur.
Tears burned her eyes but she didn't know if the spanking or the denial caused them.
Either way, she would not weep.
When he stopped, the fire seemed to burn hotter than ever. Her head spun when he lifted her and settled her onto his lap. Her tender bottom throbbed and she gave a screech and tried to rise.
He didn't release her.
"I will be obeyed."
She sniffed, squirming in an attempt to ease the pain in her arse. His arms around her seemed to offer comfort, but she held herself stiff.
"You're a monster." She sniffed again, wiping at the stray tear that escaped.
He chuckled. The sound rumbled through her, and she silently cursed the shiver of longing passing along her spine.
"And you're a hellion. But you will learn."
He stood, shoving her from his lap.
She stumbled and righted herself, maintaining a straight spine. He folded his arms and studied her. How she longed to know what thoughts turned in his head.
"Today's attack raised many questions."
"Such as?" She had no idea what he spoke of.
"The rebels knew my men would be patrolling the surrounding area. Someone from within told them."
She rolled her eyes. She should have expected this. "You think 'twas me."
"I didn't say that. But there are many in Lyndon who possess Welsh bloodlines."
He knew. She didn't care, really, but had no doubt the fact she didn't tell him herself made her a target of his suspicion. No reason to deny it. 'Twas not completely unexpected he'd be aware of the fact.
"Aye. Such as I."
"I wondered when you would tell me."
"'Tis common knowledge, my lord." She folded her hands together, desperate to hide their shaking. Truth be told, it came more from the unsettled arousal still spearing her. God's bones, he'd turned her into a wanton overnight!
"I would have preferred learning it from my wife herself."
"I didn't think you didn't know." She sensed he recognized her lie, but she didn't care. Let him think what he wanted.
"Only someone loyal to the Welsh cause would aid the rebels."
"Of course."
He remained silent for a long time. Too long. Finally, he gave a curt nod.
"Rest assured, my men and I will find the traitor."
"And Anne? Will you seek her as well?"
"Mayhap."
"She killed my father. Poisoned him! She must face justice!"
Gillian's anger took over. She walked close to her husband and pounded her fist on his chest. "You must find her! Or I will!"
He caught her wrist, squeezing hard until she cried out. He shoved her away from him.
"You strike me again?"
His low menacing voice drew a shiver of apprehension. She held herself erect.
"If 'twill make you listen to reason, I will do so as often as I must!" She folded her arms and lifted her chin.
He stalked over to her, standing right before her so she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. She didn't retreat and steadily held his stare.
"'Twill only gain you more severe punishments."
"I don't fear you. My lord."
The hastily added respect only seemed to anger him. She didn't care, daring him to do worse than he already had. Except her poor, sore arse would suffer. She tried to ignore the lingering discomfort in her bottom. He could beat her until her skin turned purple. She would endure.
"Mayhap you should."
"I seek justice for my father. Surely, you'd do the same."
He hesitated for a moment. Gillian swore she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes before it fled as quickly as it had arisen.
"'Tis not the same."
"And why not?"
"I decide what takes priority in protecting Edward and England. I can't be so closed-minded to focus on a rumored murder of one baron."
She didn't think herself capable of such angry pain. "My father was very important to Edward. And England. He kept the peace in this region for years and you know it."
"Aye. Edward was well-pleased with William's service. But your father would be the first to tell you England would come before him."
Damn the man to hell and back if he wasn't right. Gillian bit her cheek to keep from responding foolishly. She'd never gain her husband's trust and kindness if she continued to give in to the frustration and annoyance he always seemed to provoke.
"She killed him. I will find proof. When I do, will you find her?"
He gave a nod. "Aye. If you can prove it, I will find her and she will face justice."
"Thank you."
"I have to question some of the rebels we have taken as prisoner. You will remain here until I return."
"But I have many tasks –"
He held up the key. "Thomas will handle whatever the household needs. I want to make sure you don't get into any more trouble."
He turned and headed out the door. Gillian followed. He pulled the door shut behind him.
The thud of the bar falling into place caused her to jump. She pulled on the handle, but it held securely. She pounded on the wood.
"Bastard! You won't keep me locked away forever!"
The grate of the key rasped like jagged swords. She pressed her ear against the door, listening to his steps grow fainter as he walked away.
"Damn you!"
Her only response was his laughter, fading as he strode away.
She folded her arms and moved to sit on the bed. Just as quickly, she jumped back up when recollections of her wedding night pummeled her once more.
She eased herself into one of the hearthside chairs, wincing at the tenderness in her bottom. How long would she have to wait?
***
Royce strode through the great hall and headed for the chambers below.
Too many questions remained and he didn't want to wait for answers.
His wife held many of them, of that he had no doubt, but just how deeply was she involved?
He would see to her later tonight. He ignored his hardening cock as he thought of the way he would do so.
Burke met him at the bottom of the narrow stair and led him to the room where Anne had been held. It now housed three Welsh rebels. One looked to be severely wounded. Royce pointed to him.
"Question him before he dies."
Burke summoned two soldiers who dragged the man from the floor and into another room. Royce and Burke stood over the remaining two men. Their shaggy and unkempt appearance hid cunning and barbaric warriors. Their hands were bound behind them and would remain so.
"Where is your leader?"
One of the men grinned through his beard.
"You'll never find Godwin."
"Why did you attack?"
Another grin but no response. Royce kicked the foot of the other man.
"What do you know?"
"The king is coming."
Alarm rose swift. Royce reached down and hauled the man to his feet.
"How do you know? What was your plan? Tell me or you die."
"I'll die anyway."
Frustrated, Royce shoved the man back to the floor. He paced and looked at Burke, just as a piercing scream rose from the hallway. Liam came back into the room.
"He is dead, my lord. But he told us the plan was to lay in wait for Edward."
Royce spun about to face the remaining two rebels. "Your plan failed. You'll be hanged."
"Look within, Panther, to find your traitor."
The words echoed around him with each step back to the hall. He shook his head. All he needed was some ale and to discuss fortifications with Burke.