A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) (7 page)

As he continued up to the front of the keep, he dismounted his horse in a quick fluid motion, and began climbing the stairs to the great doors. He needed a wench to quench the thirst the peasant had stirred.

He shoved open the door to the great hall, and started to pull the chain mail from his body. No, his bride would not be naïve enough to show up in England. She would have surely taken flight back to her family’s lands. It wouldn’t make sense for her to do such a thing. She wouldn’t risk the wrath he had for her, or the possibility he would put her in the tower, or cut her short at the neck. No. She wouldn’t be that simple minded.

Unless she came in disguise to harm him.

Why wouldn’t she? He’d shamed her family, taken the lands they’d claimed, although he had intended to share it with her. She was probably angry about her family being displaced, but they had caused the debacle to begin with. If only they had conceded, he would be married to her right now. He probably would have allowed her parents to live on his lands, instead of in the dungeon or like outlaws in the forests. But would she truly stay in enemy territory?

They had tracked the family to the very border…or so he thought.

He looked forward to interrogating the girl further in the morning when he set her to work. He would keep her close. Although it wasn’t possible for this Chloe to be
his
Chloe, he couldn’t shake the feeling something was out of place.

Yes, he would have to keep a close eye on the chit.

A maid with the same dark hair as his dirty little peasant scurried by, he gripped her arm before she completely passed him. She gazed up at him with coy brown eyes. Not the same crystalline blue as Chloe’s, but they would do.

He looked her up and down, his desire obvious. She curtsied to him, and licked her lips. She would do indeed. He led her up to his solar, sat in his chair and pulled the maid down on top of him, her thighs straddling his. She rubbed her warmth back and forth against his cock, while she nibbled along his neck.

He ran his hands up her thighs, pulling her skirts up over her hips. He buried his face in her ample bosom, and trailed his fingers over her mons. She was already wet. He freed his hard member and thrust deep.

Chapter
Five

Chloe gulped. Her brows furrowed and she pulled her lips tightly together, sure her face was as white as a ghost.

It was
him
, she was positive of the fact.

“Let us get ye inside, it’s freezing out here,” Maude urged.

Lord Hardwyck, the Dragon
.
She’d heard of him before. His exploits in England and France were well known. Just before he’d stormed the castle it had been rumored he was the leading man in the defeat of the French at Agincourt. And he was the man who’d stormed South Hearth.

She clutched at her horse’s reins as she looked blankly at the tiny house. There was a small frost covered garden, but she didn’t see a stable. Of course there was no stable. She tried to recollect where the village people near her had kept their animals, and she had a sudden horrifying realization that they were kept inside the house.

Maude motioned her forward and Chloe obeyed, leading her horse into the tiny house. She looked about her nervously. She’d escaped the lord of Hardwyck for now, but she knew she would have to face him in the morning.

But how could she face him? How in the world would she be able to survive that meeting?

Chloe would never forget the dragon crest on his shield. The vision of him outside South Hearth would be forever ingrained in her memory.

Yes, the great warrior who’d shouted at her, who’d caused her heart to beat so fast she feared it would burst inside her.

“
You are mine!”
The words still reverberated in her mind.

He was the man who had pushed her and her family apart, maybe even killed them.

Lord Hardwyck.

Chloe hated him. He’d been the ruin of her. Nicola’s death was on his hands. Even though he hadn’t been the one to literally slay her, he’d been the reason they’d fled South Hearth. He was to blame. He was the reason she was now destitute and dressed in peasant rags. Did it matter that he’d supplied her with a warm home and a meal now? No, and it didn’t matter that he was going to put her to work so she could take care of herself, either. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t even be here. His selfishness and greed had caused all of this.

If only she’d known his name before coming here, she would have gladly faced any outlaw than trump up to the gates of her gravest enemy.

Angry heat rose into her cheeks. She took a deep breath trying to calm her indignation. She couldn’t let Maude see how flustered she was. The last thing she wanted to do was answer questions from the woman.

“My name’s Maude. What’s yer name chit?” the woman asked looking Chloe up and down. Chloe gave her equal study while still clutching the reins of her horse.

“Chloe. I thank you for allowing me to stay with you this night,” she said in reply, keeping her answer short and cordial.

Maude nodded. “I’d do anything his lordship asked. I was his nurse when he was just a babe. Took care of his mother for a time too.”

She turned and walked into a tiny room off to the right, the door covered with a linen cloth. Not sure if she was to follow, Chloe stood still, feeling awkward. She glanced about the bare little house.

The main room smelled like a mixture of the food cooking, rotten past meals, and unwashed bodies. In the far right corner was a wobbly old table with four chairs. In the center of the table was a candle held in a carved wood candlestick holder. The candle as well as the holder were crudely made.

She sighed. She would have to get used to such a living, if she was going to keep up her charade. Life would be hard, but ending up in the tower or on the chopping block was a worse lot.

Her muscles were rigid. How had she not known? Anger ripped through her middle. How could she have been so filled with desire? The man was her enemy. Even still, the backs of her thighs still burned from the hard muscled flesh she’d sat on.

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she took in the rest of the little room. Next to the table at the back of the house was a pile of burning wood surrounded by stones. Directly on top of the fire sat a steel pot with legs on it. The smoke from the fire escaped a small open hole in the wall which resembled a window. The makeshift fire pit looked very dangerous. The wall behind the fire was black with soot. How many fires had need of putting out in this little house?

The smell of stew coming from the boiling pot reminded Chloe of how hungry she was. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled.

Where was she going to put her horse? She couldn’t just leave him in the middle of the room. The cottage was cramped enough as it was, and the horse took up most of the space. Off to her right was an open area with a wooden beam propped up to separate the small space from the main room. Was this the place they kept their animals? There were none to be seen. The space looked too vacant and clean, as if there hadn’t been any animals there for quite some time.

Maude returned to the main room with a young man. He had soft curly brown hair and was very tall, his head almost touching the ceiling. He was also as thin as a stick. He’d not yet grown into his man’s body. He studied her with watery brown eyes.

James quickly broke his stare and walked over to the area, lifting the beam for Chloe. She led the horse to the space, going into the room first and letting the animal follow her. Her horse snorted a bit, and she soothed him with whispers in his ear. James watched her as she moved and began to undo the belts holding he satchel in place. Chloe panicked. How would she be able to keep her things safe? Not that the satchel contained anything overmuch of value, but it was hers and she didn’t want to lose it.

She took the pack and shoved it into the corner of the small stall behind a trough, where it would be out of sight, and hopefully out of mind. She knew with the way she must look on the outside, no one would dream of thinking the pack contained anything of value. But still in these hard times, even a crust of bread was likely to be taken.

James returned and handed her a cup of watered ale, his rough hand grazing hers. He didn’t even glance to where she’d hidden her bag. She pondered at the roughness of his hands. They were so different from her soft ones. Soon hers would be just as rough.

He turned away to give her horse a bucket of stale oats.

Lord, forgive her for the charade she’d be playing from now on. Although it wasn’t her fault that she now had to deceive everyone, it was deceitful all the same, and Chloe prided herself on being true and honest.

“Would you mind getting some water for my horse?” she asked James, lowering her eyes, not wanting to appear too demanding. She reminded herself that although he seemed to have no problem running to do her bidding, she must seem his equal or perhaps lower than he because she was a woman, so as not to draw attention to herself.

James nodded at her and left the cottage with a bucket he’d grabbed near the fire in the main room.

How long would she be able to put up with this deception? The sooner she got word to the Fergusson clan the better.

She gave her mount a pat on his flank and then went in search of Maude. The woman stirred liquid in the cast iron pot over the fire.

James walked through the door with the bucket and set it on the floor next to the trough. Chloe watched him out of the corner of her eye. He took no notice of the pack she had hidden behind the trough. She breathed a sigh of relief. What little she had was safe for now.

“Are ye hungry?” Maude asked.

Chloe nodded and smiled. Her stomach was in knots from the lack of food, as well as the stress of the day. Maude dished some of the stew from the pot into a bowl and set it on the table, motioning for Chloe to sit down.

Chloe followed her directions and looked down at her bowl. There was still leftover food crusted on its rim from a previous meal. Water and soap must be hard to come by, she thought. Too hungry to worry about it, she sat on one of the shaky wooden chairs and began to eat. The stew was mostly water, with some oats and bits of herbs, carrots, onions, and meager chunks of meat. She wasn’t sure what the meat was, but thought it must be rabbit. She gulped the cup of bitter watery ale James had given her to wash down the foul tasting meal.

From the corner of her eye, Chloe witnessed James watching her every move. She could feel his stare and tried not to look at him directly. She didn’t want to encourage anything further from the young man.

They were both of a marriageable age. Would he try to find a way to claim her? Back home, that had been the thoughts of many young men. Her father had refused them all. His only wish for her to marry his own man, Angus.

She hated to dash his hopes but marriage definitely wasn’t something she was looking to add to the pile of her new responsibilities. Yet, perhaps he stared at her with disgust and she would have nothing to worry about.

“What brings you to Hardwyck?” he asked between bites.

Chloe looked up at him and Maude, quickly forming her answer in her mind. The look on James’s face said he was truly interested, and not suspicious. Maude sat down at the table, her crusty bowl newly refreshed with the sparse stew, to listen.

“Lord Hardwyck.” She took a swig of the bitter ale to bolster nerves. What could she say? “He saved me from an assault by an outlaw. I am not from around here. My family abandoned me on the forest’s edge.”

“So they just left you, with nowhere to go and no one to see?” Maude asked, her brows furrowed together.

“Yes.” Chloe looked down at her bowl. An image of Nicola flashed behind her eyes. She closed them tight, took a deep breath, and then another bite of stew.

“So you have no one and no where?” James asked softly, his tone filled with sympathy.

She looked up, and didn’t like his expression of pity. She tried not to harden her voice at him when she replied. “No, I do not have anyone. I thank you kindly for allowing me to sit at your table.” She stared into his eyes as she said it, challenging him for his pity. He only gave her a sappy smile.

She turned her attention to her hostess. “Tell me about Lord Hardwyck. I have not heard of him,” she lied.

“Ah, the Lord of Hardwyck. He’s known for the knight he is. On the field of battle and in a tourney, he is exceptional, fierce and unrelenting. His tongue can blazon anyone who deserves a lashing.” Her eyes lit up as she spoke of her lord. It was obvious she had much respect for him. “They call him the Dragon, not only because of his family crest, but because he resembles one so much in spirit. He’s compassionate, though, to his people and others. As you know, I’m sure, since he saved ye. Although, it doesn’t always show. He’s not as mean-spirited as his father the old earl. But he shan’t to be trifled with. People respect him and his rule. Are ye nervous?” Maude’s smile showed compassion as she leaned over and patted Chloe’s arm. “Don’t be nervous, he’s a good master.”