A thrill of excitement shot through her, as she remembered his lips against hers. She couldn’t risk being close to him, couldn’t risk being weakened by lust. “Surely you have better things to do.”
“Aye. I have. We can inspect the estates together. Tomorrow, show me the estate’s business at the port. Seduce me with your words of business and I’ll seduce you with my words of love.”
“You’re wasting your time. Instead of seduction you should be about your business.”
“As of today, seduction is my business. And I’m going nowhere until you come to me willingly.” The noise she uttered made him laugh. “Go to bed, sweetheart, gather your strength. You’ll be needing it.”
Rowena gritted her teeth at his arrogance but did not reply. She didn’t trust herself. Instead she walked away without a backward glance, calling to her maid who was laughingly fighting off the attentions of one of Saher’s men.
It certainly wasn’t the heat of the fire that enflamed her cheeks and her body now, but anger at finding her freedom curtailed. Nothing else. Certainly nothing to do with the hot lick of desire his touch, his words and his eyes had sparked. Certainly nothing to do with the knowledge that there was clearly only one way to get him to leave the castle—to allow herself to be seduced by him.
CHAPTER FOUR
“’Tis too dark to see in this small room, my lady,” Birghiva muttered as she opened the shutters to let in what little light there was, before returning to fuss over Rowena’s hair.
Rowena’s gaze was immediately drawn to the faint outline of the deserted tower on top of the hill, barely visible in the pre-dawn light. Despite her dread of the place and the memories it held for her, her gaze was inevitably drawn to it, a constant reminder of what could happen to a woman.
“Turn to me, my lady, I cannot dress your hair if you insist on twisting around.”
“Keep your voice down, Birghiva. I don’t want Sir Saher awakened.”
“You look tired, my lady,” she whispered.
Rowena knew the question Birghiva wanted to ask, but she wasn’t of a mind to answer it. Let people think what they wished. For, if people thought she hadn’t lain with Saher, that they weren’t properly married, then it could be the worse for her—Saher could expel her from the castle on any grounds whatsoever. She sighed. “So would you be.”
Birghiva raised an amused eyebrow. She wasn’t to know that the cause of Rowena’s tiredness was the fact she’d lain awake all night watching the man who was her husband. At least he’d taken the hint and slept on the pallet she’d placed on the floor for him. She felt as if she’d lain the whole night watching the course of the moon track across the room, illuminating his body, his hair, the rise and fall of his chest. The light brought form to his face, form to her fate. She supposed she must have dozed as some point but she’d been awake and arisen before him. And she wanted to be away on her business before him. He might want time together. But she most certainly did not. She had a merchant to meet and illicit funds to receive, neither of which she wanted the king’s man to witness.
“There,” Birghiva patted Rowena’s hair and stepped away. “That should do it.”
Rowena fastened the silver clasp of her cloak around her, glad of the cloak’s warmth in the chill of the summer morning. “Your cloak, Birghiva. Come, we mustn’t delay.”
Birghiva swiftly obeyed. “Aye.” She swept it around her shoulders. “Although why you don’t wait for Sir Saher, I don’t know.”
“Because I don’t wish to be with him. He may be my husband but he is not, and never will be, my keeper.”
She took one last look out the window at the jagged edged tower—a symbol of everything she feared—and silently pushed open the door and slipped past the solar where Saher lay.
Rowena looked up from the clerk’s figures with satisfaction. They accounted for the goods currently being loaded onto her ship—a fine cog, bigger than the others that were tied up beside it at the quayside. A line of men carried the cargo aboard—grain, hides and wool destined for Germany—that made her estates so profitable. She inhaled the unique port smell of salt air, rank mud and the fragrant food from the nearby Inn and stalls that lined the road. She glanced at the sun. It would soon be time for her meeting with the Flemish merchant to arrange the next shipment and collect payment on the last. She was relieved she’d managed to evade Sir Saher. He would ask awkward questions, questions she couldn’t answer honestly, not if she wanted an escape route.