‘It’s not long since Lance had the same effect on you. That first time on his back, you went just as white.’
‘I’ve grown used to him.’
‘And his master?’ Oliver asked, with unnerving percipience. ‘Have you grown used to him too? Or does this...’ he glanced at the heaving bailey ‘...change matters?’
Her blood returned in a rush and she stumbled to the stable door. If it weren’t for the mill of horseflesh, she’d have stomped across the bailey and left him. Behind her she heard the gentle chink of Lance’s bridle being removed. She watched the seething bailey until the warmth of Oliver’s breath caressed her neck.
‘Ma dame, you wait for my company?’ he murmured, voice amused.
She nodded, reluctant to admit the extent to which the horses frightened her.
A dark eyebrow lifted. ‘I’m afraid our rendez-vous will have to wait.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
His palm ran down the length of her arm from shoulder to hand. Taking her fingers, he gave her a gentle squeeze. ‘Much as I long to fulfil my promise to you on the beach, my first duty lies with my lord. There will be a council meeting tonight, and I must attend. Our pleasure must wait for another day.’
‘Your first duty is to Baron Geoffrey. Oliver, I do know my place.’ She lifted her chin and gestured at the jostling horses. ‘I’m not used to these monsters and I’d welcome your escort across the courtyard. If it’s not too much trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble at all, my angel.’
‘I hate this...this warring.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to stay.’
Oliver stiffened. ‘It that a threat?’
She opened her eyes. ‘A threat? How could it be? Can a miller’s daughter threaten a squire?’
‘Rosamund, I’m warning you...’
‘I shouldn’t be here. You think that in giving me a choice you made everything right between us. But you grant me no right to pride and I’m beginning to see that without pride what happens between us is as nothing. I should go.’
Strong fingers caught her by the shoulders. ‘Go? Where shall you go? Back to the husband who loves you?’
‘At least Alfwold admits he loves me, which is more than you ever will. You’re an unfeeling wretch.’
Grey eyes bored into her. ‘Unfeeling, eh?’ He jerked her against him. ‘Does your loving Alfwold set you alight as I do? Do you moan in delight under the press of his body? I’ll warrant this unfeeling squire stirs your blood more than your loving husband would if you spent a lifetime in his bed!’
‘You swine!’ And before she knew it, she’d slapped him in the face.
The stables went horribly quiet. It was impossible, of course, what with the noise in the bailey, but so it seemed. Above her, his eyes glittered as cold as the winter sea. Flinching at what she’d done, she put up a hand to ward off the blow that must surely fall. Peasants didn’t strike their betters and go unpunished.
The blow never came. His face was a mask of indifference. ‘You may well cringe,’ he said, as steely fingers clamped round her wrist. ‘But much as you may deserve it, I won’t hit you. Come, I shall escort you across the yard and you can await my pleasure in the bedchamber.’
‘I won’t!’
‘You will. You made your decision. It’s too late to change it, you are back in Lord Geoffrey’s hold and he has given you to me. I will not release you.’
‘I was wrong to agree! It’s not enough, can’t you see?’
‘It has to be enough. You’re staying.’
So saying, Oliver escorted her through the press and took her to the bottom of the steps that led into the keep. ‘Until later, my angel,’ he said, and vanished into the throng.
Chapter Six
‘Cousin!’ Sir Geoffrey was on the dais, deep in discussion with the captain of the guard. The moment Oliver stepped into the hall, he was beckoned over. ‘I’m glad you’re back, lad,’ Geoffrey said. ‘Come with me, I would have speech with you in the solar before the council meeting.’ He looked at his captain. ‘You too, Ned. You can be witness.’
Witness? More than a little puzzled, Oliver followed his cousin up the curling stairs to the solar. Lady Adeliza was sitting by the fire with one of the ladies, Oliver got the distinct impression she’d been waiting for them.
‘You’ll serve me better as a knight, cousin,’ the baron said briefly. ‘Kneel. Come on, man, kneel.’
Bemused at the lack of ceremony, Oliver knelt, bent his head and received the token buffet.