Read Conquering the Dark Axe Online
Authors: Amber Dane
‘Twas he who had attacked her with his words.
Feeling like his heart had been cut open and left to
bleed dry; Rourke pulled a woolen coverlet over her. He stood and watched
her for a long time. Time had come to put his past behind him. At the
mere thought, something tightened within his chest. Then he looked at her
sleeping face once more.
He had to do it or lose much more.
Alexa, despite the gloom of her mood, worked around
the manor early the next morning leaving her dead to the world husband
slumbering and snoring loudly away across the hall. She was not going to
let him know how deeply he’d hurt her. So she kept herself busy seeing to
things around her home and had plenty done by the time she heard his bellow to
Goran announcing that he had come down.
She went in the opposite direction of his deep voice
and nearly tripped over Lina in her haste to get away.
The maid quickly backed away, but not before Alexa
caught the hint of the secret smile upon her face. Anger sparked in her at the
thought of Rourke sharing the woman’s bed. Something churned in Alexa’s
gut. She watched the maid’s back until she disappeared around a corner. Time
had come for her to clean her house and she would start this day. Rourke’s
bellow came again and Alexa turned away.
Goran brought a sentry into the hall and Rourke
lifted his head from his uneaten meal and brooding thoughts.
He had no appetite.
He grunted when he spied Alexa out in the hall
looking in. He grew more irritated. He’d wanted to start this day by setting
things right. Now he had to deal with this interruption.
She pretended to be instructing the servants on
something, but he knew she had one ear open to the dirty and dust covered
sentry that stood before him.
He had come to report that there was some unrest
amongst the villagers at Rourke’s estate further north of York. Rourke
frowned over the news.
He ordered a servant to bring more food and drink
for the exhausted sentry. The man took a seat at one of the trestle
tables. Goran remained next to Rourke.
“I’ll go,” Goran announced.
Rourke shot him a quizzical look. “We’ll both go.”
“’Tis probably a fight between a family or two,
Rourke. I doubt it’s aught more. Furthermore, as your friend, I think ‘tis best
you try to mend the unrest here.”
Rourke’s face darkened and his eyes shot to the
entranceway. Alexa had gone. He turned back to Goran. His friend did not look
happy.
“As my friend, eh?” Rourke stood.
“Aye. You must make things right, Rourke. Trust me.
Everyone will be grateful. So will you if you but open your eyes to see it.”
“Go! Send word back if it is more than angry
neighbors,
friend
.” Rourke ordered and stepped
down.
Goran’s light laugh came behind him. He knew what Goran was getting at. But he
was ahead of his friend. He’d already vowed to make things right this day. He
went in search of his wife.
He didn’t even know where to begin when he caught up
to her at the top of the staircase. She barely turned to acknowledge him and
the tightness in his chest ballooned. Alexa said nothing and continued to walk
down the long corridor.
“I wish to speak with you.” Rourke cleared his
throat, surprised at the hoarseness he heard.
She stopped and turned, but did not look at him.
Instead she pretended to find great interest in the sleeves of the simple gown
she wore. He noted then he liked her in breeches more. She looked
uncomfortable.
“As you wish.” was all she said.
“In our chamber.”
Her head whipped up and he sucked in a breath. Anger
and her hurt lay there open and wild in her amber eyes. Yet she faced him with
a challenging stance.
“Does this not suit your needs this day?” she waved
her hand out to indicate the occupied corridor.
Rourke set his teeth. He’d not be repeating the
painful blunder he’d made yesterday. This time he wanted no ears hearing
anything that was said. He waved away the guards and servants filling the
space.
“Nay. What we needs discuss is for our ears only.”
She raised a brow and he continued, “As yesterday should have been.”
Something flickered in her gaze and he watched her
swallow. Aye, he had hurt her greatly indeed, Rourke thought.
"Do you plan to escape me again?"
the words left his mouth before the bedroom door closed.
Alexa turned to face him. Her throat worked and she
shook her head. "Nay."
Relief rippled through him. "Where had you
planned to go the last time?”
"What is this trivial stuff you speak?" her
words were angry and he deserved it. Yet she waited.
"I wish to discuss this…our
marriage."
She said nothing and he did not know he held his
breath until she simply walked over to the bench and sat down. Her hands neatly
folded in her lap and her eyes on him. She would give him audience and Rourke
was humbled. He walked near and sat on the bench across from her. She never
took her eyes off him. He wanted to take her in his arms and wished it were all
they needed to repair the rift between them. But her eyes told him his answer.
He would get no forgiveness here. He had to earn it.
Rourke inhaled slowly. He did not know what to do or
how to correct the damage he'd done. He was a man of war. He did not love her
so professing his love was out. With that thought his heart felt heavy. When
his words came, they were angry and spoken gruffly. "Think
your womb is barren?”
The chalk white look of her had him scrambling.
Rourke spoke quickly a hand out in front of him to calm her. "I’m
not starting this off very well, am I? I meant if you are barren there is not
much we can do about it. Only time will. Think you I can repair the damage I’ve
done?”
There, he’d said it.
He’d apologized.
Rourke straightened his shoulders with confidence
and sat back with a fist on his hip.
Alexa swallowed hard over his words. His aim was not
to hurt her. This she saw plainly in his open gaze, but his words still stung
nonetheless. Gallant he certainly was not. She believed she understood what he
was trying to convey, but she did not wish to speak of it again.
He went on when she said nothing. "When you are
done with your time…bleeding…then we shall try again."
He made it seem like a prison sentence. She wanted
to tell him nay. But she did not. Frustration crossed his handsome face at her
lack of response.
He asked, irritation lacing his tone. "Much has
happened I know. Do you wish for this to work between us?"
"As best as it can be done, I
imagine." her simple answer did not please him.
He shot to his feet. Had he expected her to
just fall into his arms like a smitten maid and be grateful that now he had
come to offer some semblance of an apology- a bad apology at that, that she
would swoon and all would be forgiven?
Nay.
Any feelings she'd had for him, he'd smothered in
the past week with his behavior. She still hurt and a few simple words would
not change that. Lifting her chin, Alexa stood and faced him. "Will that
be all?"
Anger flashed in his bright green eyes. Alexa
blinked and what she thought she'd read was gone. Of course. She had seen what
she'd believed and wished. Hurt. But since he was incapable of feeling
anything. 'Twas impossible.
His next words confirmed it. "Aye. Return your
person back to this chamber this eve."
She nodded in agreement to his order. He stormed out
and Alexa pressed a hand to her breast and leaned out the window for air. Damn
him!
She had thought he’d come, but Alexa admitted to
herself that she’d not been so sure. He stood in front of her now with that mad
man expression he’d worn the day he’d bound her in those chains. Still she
wouldn’t back down. He walked from the door to where she stood at the foot of
Lisbeth’s bed. She fought off the urge to turn from him and waited while
he cursed and spit his anger.
He’d been yelling for the past half hour it seemed
and she had not budged.
Alexa said again for the third time. “I told you I
had fallen asleep. I am weary. I do not see why the morrow will not be soon
enough.”
“You were told this eve, Alexa. Is it your wish to
drive me mad with your steadfast defiance? You will return to our chamber
at once, even if I have to carry you there myself! Sleep there if you are so
weary. I am the master here. This means your lord and master.”
He was prepared for her blow and caught her long arm
in his and turned her, her back pressed against his chest and her arm twisted
behind her. “I know what you plan before you do it, hellion.” She struggled and
he held her tighter, continuing, “I would release you, but I fear I cannot
trust you.”
“Best you remember it then.” She spat.
Rourke growled and trussed her up in his arms and
strode across the hall where he dumped her in the center of the bed. She
surprised him when she did not crawl off. She just stared at him.
Rourke shut the door and crawled into bed. She
continued to shoot him the murderous stare. After a moment he
muttered, “Go to sleep.”
“You cannot command everything. I am not tired.”
He reached out and his fingers dug into the upper part
of her arm. “Did you not just say moments ago it is what you wished? Make
up your mind, woman! Sleep now or find your legs spread with my rod inside of
you. Blood or not. Think you that will make you tired enough?”
A horrified gasp dropped open her mouth and Alexa
tried to wrench free of his grasp, but he held fast. She managed to elbow
him in the gut. He laughed and clasped her hands in one of his in front of her.
She kicked her feet and thought about her retort.
She snapped her mouth closed, outraged and said, “You are truly a Norman pig!”
He shook her hard and when his other hand snaked
down over her belly she cried out.
“Nay!”
“Then go to sleep, hellion!”
His growl of warning was next to her ear. He
released his grip and waited. Her body rigid against him and he heard her
release an angry huff. He said nothing.
He had not lied to her. As hot as he was for
her, the discord between them had tired him beyond and he sought nothing more
than sleep too. Had he been able to muster his rod to cooperate she could
not stop his use of her body.
A tingle stirred in his loins. Perhaps he was
not that tired after all. His hold tightened around her waist and
loosened suddenly when she moaned.
He had been so wrapped up in his lusty and angry
musings he hadn’t realized she lay pliant against him now. Her warm curves
relaxed and soft against his side. She had fallen quickly asleep.
Disgusted with the feel of her against him and her
harsh words earlier still ringing in his ears, Rourke made space between them
and gave her his back. Dawn was near by the time sleep came for him.
The noise coming from outside drew Alexa from the
hall out into the courtyard and into the midday sun. She halted. The
king’s banner blew in the light breeze and the herald dismounted and approached
her husband. Rourke stood with his axe by his side and from the clothes in
which he was dressed; Alexa knew he’d been practicing. After unraveling the
parchment, the herald began to read in French, “By sovereign right-“
“Give it to me.,” Rourke cut him off with a wave of
his hand. The man reached into his cloak and withdrew a thicker parchment
sealed with the king’s seal. “Come inside.”
Alexa met Rourke’s gaze when he turned and saw her.
He looked past her just as quickly without a word and entered the manor. Alexa,
trepidation burning in her chest followed behind them.
Alexa stood inside the entrance of the hall, her
eyes watching the herald while he watched her husband break the seal on the
parchment.
Rourke’s face did not change as his eyes scanned the
contents and Alexa itched to know what it held. But at the moment she was too
focused on trying to discern the herald’s nervous tick. He looked out of the
corner of his eyes in her direction for the briefest of moments and her eyes
shot to Rourke to see that his eyes rested steadily on the man as well. The
herald’s small eyes roamed everywhere but where they should have been- on the
lord in front of him.
Although the little man kept his hands
clasped behind his back, Alexa from her view could see the clenching and
unclenching of his fingers.
He wore the royal garments and colors, yet,
something about him simply was not right. But, she couldn’t put her finger on
it. Even the tips of his ears were reddening. His odd behavior put her ill at
ease. She swept her gaze back to Rourke. His expression had not changed.
Perhaps that was it. Her husband was known for the fierce countenance he
possessed, to leave a man shaking in his boots. Nay, it was more than that,
Alexa thought and pressed her lips tight.