Chapter Seven
Gillian paced before the hearth. Her stomach rumbled and she wondered if her husband would leave her to starve. He was a cruel bastard, but locked in here all afternoon had left her in an odd mood.
The bed was a constant reminder of all the wicked things he'd done to her last night.
And how her body wanted him to do it all again.
Every time she sat, the tenderness in her arse prompted another flurry of recollections.
Now, her sex was swollen and slick, hot and achy.
She couldn't be sure her hunger for food wasn't nearly as strong as her hunger for pleasure.
What had the man done to her? She was no fool and knew well what happened in the marriage bed, but last night was unlike anything she could have imagined. Recalling how he'd bound her and left her bared and helpless before him stirred another barrage of yearning.
The sound of the key drew her from her thoughts. She smoothed her damp palms against her dress and straightened her back. The door swung open. The sight of her husband filling the frame never failed to provoke that breathless sensation of excitement. She only hoped he didn't notice.
He stepped into the room, followed by Thomas, who carried a large tray laden with food. The aroma of meat and vegetables teased her and her stomach rumbled again. She gave an embarrassed glance at her husband. He merely smiled.
Yet, somehow, Gillian had the sense he possessed some nefarious plan. She didn't know if she felt more fear or anticipation.
"We will sup here this eve. Then we have much to discuss."
She gave a nod. How much would be actual discussion? An ominous warning echoed in her thoughts.
Thomas laid the tray down and departed. Royce closed and barred the door. He waved a hand toward the chair.
"Sit. Eat your meal."
She remained silent as she obeyed, knowing that even if she had no hunger, she would need to eat for the coming night.
The stew was warm and filling, the ale crisp and satisfying. They ate in silence, but he never took his gaze from her. Worried she might choke, she refrained from asking why he studied her so intently. When at last she had taken her last bite, she wiped her lips with the cloth and turned to him.
"Is there something you wish to say, my lord?"
He gave another one of those curious smiles, the ones she couldn't quite tell if they were genuine or masked some other dastardly thought.
"There is a lot I want to ask you. I learned something interesting from the captured rebels. Incidentally, they'll be hanged once the king arrives."
"Here?"
"Aye. Is there some problem with that?"
"Nay, they should be hanged for what they did, but why here? 'Tis not something that's ever happened at Lyndon."
"As a lesson to the traitor in our midst."
She held his stare steadily, his tawny eyes dark with suspicion. Did he think she was the traitor? Convincing him of her loyalty might prove to be a bigger task than she'd first thought.
"You truly believe someone here is a traitor?"
"There are many Welsh here who would protect Godwin. He is distantly related to Llewellyn. As are you."
"I wondered when you would accuse me."
"I did not accuse you."
She shook her head. "Aye, you just did. By claiming I share a bloodline with Godwin. I don't."
"Are you sure?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Aye. My father told me the tales of my mother's heritage were false. They made them up so the marriage contract would not be broken. 'Twas the only way Edward would accept the marriage."
She'd been told the story many times by her father, which proved how far he would go to keep the woman he loved.
Gillian had longed for a man to love her in such a way.
She had ended up with a debauched, brutal and emotionless man.
A momentary despair threatened to suffocate her before she forced it aside.
"I see. Why does no one else know?"
"If they did, word could reach the king. Not that it mattered. She died when I was a child."
"When did your father marry Anne?"
"Last fall. Before the harvest. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was besotted."
Gillian's stomach churned to recall the argument she and her father had over his announcement. The Lady Anne was a good match, politically. Or so they'd thought.
"Tell me more of Anne."
"Her lover lived in the village. Aye, his name was rumored to be Godwin. I have never seen him. I suspect she used the name to provoke fear in the villeins."
"Why do you say that?"
She didn't like his tone. She felt like a prisoner being interrogated. But these questions needed honest answers. 'Twould help convince him she meant her vow she did not betray Lyndon or England.
"As you know, Godwin is named as the rebel leader, though he'd not attacked us ere now. But if she was aligned with him, 'twould frighten the serfs into acceding to her wishes. Except that it didn't always work."
The corners of his mouth curled. "Like with you?"
She gave him a conspiratorial smile. "Aye, like me. I didn't care who her lover was. I didn't fear her. When word came of Edward's order for me to marry you, that's when my father fell ill. And she claimed to be pregnant."
"And you think she's not?"
"She could very well be. But 'tis not my father's child. He said he had not lain with her since shortly after they wed." Heat scorched her cheeks to think of her father and Anne....
"Spawn of the devil!"
Royce stood and began to pace. Gillian wondered what had so angered him.
"My lord, is Godwin... will he attack again?"
"I cannot say. 'Twould seem they know the king will soon arrive. Only someone within Lyndon would know."
Anger sent Gillian to her feet. "Again, you think 'tis me!"
"I didn't say that. But I will ask you about all of those on Lyndon who may be."
"No one is! Except mayhap Anne, no one here would betray us!"
"You are na?ve to think that." He held up a hand when she would have protested further. "You trust and love your people. I understand."
"'Tis the first sensible thing you've said all eve. My lord."
He gave a half-scowl. "But you should be more wary. Someone here is passing messages to the rebels. They attacked to take over Lyndon and lay in wait for Edward. Only someone within the walls would know of the king's imminent arrival."
"Anne knew."
"Aye, she did. 'Twas another reason for the attack. And yet another reason I believe 'tis someone within these walls. She was locked inside and the rebels didn't have access to the keep. Unless there are more hidden entrances than I know about?"
Gillian scratched her head. "Of course! Aye, there are two more. But they are not known to many, as they are obscure."
He stalked over to her. "Where are they?"
"By the kitchens, there is one door that leads to a tunnel that takes one outside the walls to the forest beyond. The other led from the solar to the same tunnel. But that one collapsed years ago and was impassible. My father had it sealed off."
"So only the one near the kitchens is of concern."
He strode to the door and called for Burke. The captain appeared. He looked over at Gillian.
An unexplained uneasiness crept into her veins, chilling her. Something about her husband's captain seemed threatening. Why? He greeted her with proper respect and even gave a slight bow. Gillian looked away, unable to define what caused the wariness.
Royce ordered Burke to set men to guarding the entrance. The captain agreed, and the two men discussed other options before Burke departed. Royce closed the door and faced her once more.
"I don't yet know if we'll seal it off. But thank you, wife, for that information."
"I will do what I must to defend my home. Mayhap now you will believe me."
"Mayhap. But you possess other secrets."
Gillian folded her trembling fingers together. "I'm not sure I understand. My lord."
"I will learn them all. And I have ways of extracting secrets from even the strongest criminals. I suspect you'll be fairly easy to break."
She gasped. "You oaf! You would torture me like a criminal for no reason?"
He shrugged. "What if I think there is reason?"
"I've given you none to think so."
"I disagree. So we begin."
She shook her head, backing away when he moved toward her.
"Your insistence on fleeing suggests possible guilt."
She halted her retreat but folded her arms. "You are searching for something that is not there!"
"Mayhap. But 'tis no reason not to enjoy the search."
"What?"
"Remove your clothes."
"Wait! I have no maid, I am not –"
"Very well. Tonight, wife, I will play your maid. Turn around."
A surge of excitement jumbled into her anger. She shook her head. She would not give in.
He would not break her.
"Why must you be difficult? 'Twill go badly for you."
"'Tis a risk I'm willing to take."
He sighed. "Very well."
He grabbed her shoulders, turning her. With quick movements, he cut the laces holding her bliaut closed.
Gillian gave a shriek of outrage and tried to turn, but he held her in place with one hand tightly squeezing her shoulder.
He made quick work of ripping her clothes from her body, leaving her clad only in her thin chemise.
He turned her to face him. She tried to break free of his grip, but he didn't release her.
"You will answer my questions truthfully or suffer the consequences."
She lifted her chin. "Do your worst."
She refused to cower before this man who seemed always intent on breaking her. She recalled the way he'd reduced her to begging last night. Would he do the same again? Why in all that was holy did she anticipate it?
She didn't understand what he intended when he turned her once more. But when he caught her wrists behind her back, she began to struggle. 'Twas no use, he had tied her hands behind her. She tugged, but the rope binding her held fast.
"So I am to be treated as a criminal then?"
He walked around to stand before her. He gave a sly smile and folded his arms.
"You refuse to obey again. You could have simply answered my questions. Instead, I will show no mercy."