His Captive, His Conquest by Ashe Barker

Chapter Seven

He woke with a start, his soldier’s instincts on alert. He had not been obliged to sleep on the battlefield for five years now, but the intuitive impulse never left him. The slightest sound, the merest hint of anything out of the ordinary, and he would be wide awake in an instant.

He calmed almost as quickly in the few moments it took for him to realise he was in his own bed at Elborne, and the sound which had roused him was that of his pretty little captive stumbling about in the darkness.

He sat up and could just make out her silhouette. She was standing on the other side of his chamber, her back to him.

“Flora, what is the matter?”

She spun around. “I did not mean to wake you.”

“Well, I am awake now. What are you up to?”

“Nothing.” She shuffled back in the direction of her pallet. “I was cold, that is all.”

“Ah.” He saw now that the fire was dying. “Allow me.” He got out of bed and ambled over to the pile of logs. “May I assume, then, that you are speaking to me once more?”

Since the day when they had shared a bath, Flora had been withdrawn and sullen. He supposed he could force the issue, could even spank her sulky belligerence out of her, but he found he had no stomach for that approach. The wench was upset, angry, confused. These were not matters to be remedied by stern discipline.

It had been three days since their pleasant interlude together, and he knew that she had been disappointed to be left alone so soon after. Her present mood was the result. But he had no choice. He had duties as lord of this keep, responsibilities, not least of which was the supervision of the work to repair the destruction wrought in the Elborne pastures.

He had returned later that night to find her pretending to be asleep. The next morning, she was icily polite to him. Doubtless his mention of a spanking had taken root, though he might prefer to be on the receiving end of her acerbic tongue to this arctic wall of silence. He had coaxed no more than a handful of words from her since then, though he understood Katherine had enjoyed more success.

Lady Katherine tended to visit Flora most mornings. She told Stephen, in response to his enquiry, that she found the girl to be quite witty, and excellent company. And at least Flora’s appetite remained healthy even if she did insist upon eating alone, even when he would have shared a meal with her.

It had to stop. He would be master here, in his own castle. In his own bloody chamber, for Jesu’s sake…

“You should have asked me to help. You might have tripped in the dark.”

She shrugged and proceeded back to her pallet, but not before he detected a slight falter in her gait.

“You are limping. Have you injured yourself?”

“How might I accomplish that,” she snapped, “tied to this pallet all day and all night?”

“Even so…” He lit a lamp, then carried it over to where she now huddled in her crumpled little nest. “Let me see.”

“Must you parade about naked?” She managed to sound quite affronted.

“You did not complain before. What is the problem with your leg?”

“It is nothing. Just the rope chafing…”

He crouched beside her and took hold of her right foot.

“Leave me be. There is nothing wrong.”

“How long has it been like this?” He stared at the raw skin, the wound around her ankle starting to ooze droplets of blood. “You should have said if the rope was too tight.”

“Oh, so it is my fault, is it?” She glared at him. “I did not ask to be bound and tethered, like an animal.”

She had point, he supposed. Stephen tried to tug the end of the rope free to unfasten the knot, but only succeeded in rubbing it against the damaged flesh.

Flora let out a small cry. “Let me be, you oaf.”

“Mind your manners, Flora.” He abandoned his attempts to loosen the knot and instead reached for the dagger in his belt which dangled from a nearby chair. He sliced through the rope to free her, then laid the injured foot in his lap to better examine the damage. “It is sore but will heal.”

She answered him with a snort. “I suppose you will be obliged to tether me by my other ankle now.”

“I find I do not much care for your tone, girl.”

She tugged her foot from his grip. “Oh? Do you not? And I find I do not much care to be bound like a dog and left here on my own to rot.”

“Flora…” His tone carried the warning.

“I suppose you will beat me again now.” She dashed the tears from her eyes. “Go on. Do it.”

Her cupped her chin. “Is that what you want, little Scot?” His tone gentled now. “I am aware that for some women…”

She wriggled free. “I am not such a woman. Is that how you would treat your wife?”

“You are not my wife, Flora.”

“I know that. I am… nothing. A prisoner. Someone to toy with, then ignore.”

“Flora…”

“Leave me be. Just… go back to bed.”

“I think not.”

“I hate you, and… I hate being cold.”

“Ah, well, I can remedy that, at least.” He scooped her up, blankets and all, and carried her to a chair closer to the now cheerful blaze in the grate. He seated himself, with her in his lap. “For the love of God, stop wriggling, girl.”

“Then you stop manhandling me,” she retorted. “I did not mean for you to—”

“Hush. This is warmer, is it not?”

She treated him to an elbow in his ribs when she stretched her hands towards the fire. “I suppose it is. But I am perfectly capable of sitting here unaided.”

He rubbed his abused torso. “I believe I preferred you when you refused to speak to me, though I would like it very much if you were to keep still.” The pressure of her bottom against his now hardening cock was a pleasant enough sensation, but not exactly comfortable.

“Are you going to beat me?” she asked, her voice quiet now.

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “It is the middle of the night, girl. Can we not just get some sleep and deal with that in the morning?”

“I suppose so.” She leaned back against him and laid her cheek on the bare chest. “I still hate you, though.”

He might have answered, but her breathing had already deepened, and her body relaxed in his arms. In moments, she was asleep. Taking care not to disturb her, he released her bound hands before carrying her over to his bed and settling her among his furs.

The next time he awoke, the sun streamed between the shutters, throwing glowing rivers of light across the chamber. The day promised to be warm, and he judged the hour to be later than his normal time for rising. Perhaps his tardiness owed much to the warm, soft female body nestling up against him.

Stephen eased himself up onto one elbow and studied his bedmate. Flora was still deeply asleep, her russet curls spread across his pillows and her naked shoulders just visible beneath his furs. She lay on her side, her nose pressed into his ribs and her arm flung across his stomach. If he was not very much mistaken, her leg was also draped over his thigh.

His cock hardened in the helpful way it generally did when he first awoke. Stephen groaned. She was temptation itself, this little Scottish wench, but he had promised…

He eased himself out from beneath her, pausing each time she appeared to stir. She had not slept well these past few nights, he would guess, and was probably exhausted. He briefly considered tying her up again, but he would be forced to wake her to do so. He opted to let her sleep.

The door would be locked, after all. She was going nowhere.

He dressed and, with one final glance at the woman sprawled in his bed, he slipped from the chamber to be about the day’s business.

* * *

The sound of the door opening roused her. Flora woke with a start and sat bolt upright in the huge bed.

What the…?

“I apologise. Did I wake you?” Lady Katherine stood just inside the door, a platter in her hands. “I brought your breakfast.”

Flora rubbed her eyes, then grabbed a blanket and pulled it up in front of herself. “Lady Katherine. I did not… I mean, I thought…”

What on earth am I doing in the marquis’s bed?

“Stephen mentioned that you were still sleeping, so I did not come up quite as early as usual. If you would prefer to remain where you are, I can just leave this…”

“No. No, please, I… What time is it?” She shoved a hank of tangled curls out of her face.

“Mid-morning,” her visitor replied with a smile. “It is the summer solstice, and most of the servants are at the fair in the Elborne marketplace, so I brought the tray myself today. There is porridge and a few slices of apple.”

“Thank you.” Flora gathered her wits sufficiently to remember her manners. “I… This… It is not as you must think. We did not…”

Lady Katherine smiled at her. “Good. In that case, then, we need not dwell upon the… awkwardness of the situation, need we?”

Flora shook her head. “Do you know where the marquis is? He… I did not see him this morning before he left.”

“There were reports of sheep being taken by rivers overnight. The Fenwicks, I gather. Sir Stephen has gone to retrieve our property.”

“The Fenwicks lack the few wits they were probably born with,” Flora muttered. That particular lawless clan had been the cause of many a border skirmish. Their laird was constantly petitioning her father, the earl, for men and arms with which to increase the ferocity of his attacks, which were not confined to the hated English. The Fenwicks were equally happy to raid the homes and settlements of neighbouring clans as well.

“The marquis will be back later. Is there anything else you require before I leave?” Lady Katherine set the platter down upon the bed. “We are in need of fresh supplies of spices, and perhaps some wine, so I have decided to visit the fair myself this afternoon. I will not be here to attend you.”

Flora reached for the wooden bowl and the spoon. She stirred her porridge and tried to summon a degree of enthusiasm for the food. Normally, she was fond of porridge, and the Elborne cook had a deft hand, but she did not feel hungry this morning. “No, I shall be perfectly comfortable, I expect.”

If somewhat lonely. She was assailed by a wave of homesickness when she imagined the fair that would likely be taking place at Stirling in a month’s time, to celebrate St. Swithin’s Day. It was one of the highlights of the year as far as Flora was concerned. She adored the bustle, the smells and sounds, the gathering of all the border clans.

And, once the trading was concluded, would come the games. Fierce rivalry existed between the clans as to which kilted warrior could throw a lump of rock the furthest, race up a hill the fastest, or swim across the River Forth without drowning.

Maybe she would be home in time to enjoy the familiar ritual. Stephen had promised to release her when the fields were replanted. Surely that would not take too long.

“I shall leave you, then.” Lady Katherine hurried back over to the door. “Oh, I almost forgot. Stephen mentioned that your ankle was bothering you and he suggested I might bring you some more salve. I shall leave it here.” She set the pot on top of the chest containing Stephen’s clothing. “Someone will come for the empty platter later.”

Elborne was unusually quiet for the next few hours. Flora had become accustomed to the constant din of footsteps scurrying about in the hallway, the shouts from the bailey, the clatter of cartwheels as villagers came and went. She found she missed the signs of life, the hubbub and vibrancy of the castle. She would not have believed it possible to feel even more isolated than she had before, but she did.

She had much to ponder, not least the circumstances which had resulted in her spending the night, or what remained of it after her attempts to rekindle the fire, in the bed of the Marquis of Otterburn.

He must have placed her there. The last thing she remembered was being unceremoniously dumped in his lap before the roaring blaze. She had been angry, resentful, still hurting from his casual dismissal of her days earlier, following the wondrous interlude in the bath. She had thought…

In truth, she was not sure what she had thought, but to be described as merely a prisoner, not fit to even eat in his hall, had stung her more than she cared to admit, even to herself. She had felt small, and used. Worst of all, she felt foolish for having, if even very briefly, entertained the notion that Stephen might regard her as something more than just one of the hated enemy from across the border.

Just briefly, he had made her feel like a woman, a desirable woman. He had said as much, had he not? He had awoken longings she had barely imagined, then crushed her fledgling arousal with a few careless words. He told her she was beautiful in one breath, and a worthless prisoner the next.

So why, then, did he share his bed with me?

And why did he leave without so much as a word?

And most perplexing of all, Stephen had seemed genuinely concerned at the abrasions on her ankle, so she understood why he had not tethered her again, but why did he not bind her hands?

The window of the marquis’s chamber looked out on the castle walls and the countryside beyond. Her head full of these questions, Flora wrapped a blanket around herself, carried her bowl of porridge over there, and perched upon the wide ledge to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

If she craned her neck, she could just make out the rutted road leading from the castle down the hill into the village of Elborne. It was deserted today, as most of the inhabitants of the keep were already at the fair. The sounds of the gathering could just be heard on the breeze, the laughter of the villagers, the shouts of traders declaring their wares to be the best and cheapest to be had anywhere, and of course the lilting voices of troubadours and minstrels.

As she ate her belated breakfast, Flora could just about pick out the strains of the different instruments. The tabor sounded the rhythm, whilst horns and pipes sang their lively melodies. There would be dancing, perhaps, certainly tumblers and the antics of fools and clowns to laugh at.

She finished her solitary meal and set the bowl aside but remained on her perch at the window. She was still there, listening wistfully to the evidence that all around were people taking a break from the drudgery of normal life, enjoying each other’s company, laughing, singing, celebrating the summer’s bounty, when the door opened.

She spun around with a smile, thinking Lady Katherine must have returned earlier than she had expected. But it was not the lady of the castle who entered. The marquis ambled in, his faithful squire at his heels.

“Good day, Flora. I trust you slept well.” Stephen sent a benign smile her way, for all the world as though nothing was amiss between them. As though he had not imprisoned her for no better reason than his own amusement, beaten her, left her bound and alone for days on end. As if he had not shown her some paltry shreds of tenderness, only to crush her under his heel when the mood took him.

Her ignored her presence and set to removing the heavy plate he wore. The lad was already rushing about unbuckling his lord’s armour.

Flora attempted to ignore the marquis, but as the silence stretched, broken only by the clatter of steel and brush of leather, she was the first to speak.

“I had not expected you back so soon. Lady Katherine said you were pursuing rievers…”

“We were. They did not get far. Our business was concluded speedily.”

“I see.” She fell silent, watching as Will carried on about his tasks. “You should have woken me,” she added at last. “I slept most of the morning away.”

He shrugged. “It is of no matter. I trust you are in a better humour now.”

Flora swallowed the angry retort that sprang to her lips. She had every right to be in a poor humour. Who would not when faced with such treatment?

She recalled, though, that he had mentioned a spanking, retribution for her sharp tongue and ill-mannered remarks when she had disturbed his slumbers. Now, in the cold light of day, she regretted her inability to better control her temper. The marquis was not a man to make idle threats, she had learned that much already.

“If I offended you, I apologise.” Her words lacked convictions, even to her own ears, but it was worth a try…

He slanted a quick smile at her, obviously choosing not to remark upon her acerbic tone. “How is your ankle?” He held his arms out for Will to remove his armour. “I asked Katherine to bring you more of her salve.”

“Thank you,” she bit out. “It is not quite so sore, my lord.”

He nodded his approval and continued with his task.

Flora watched from the window while young Will assisted him out of the heavy plate. The lad disappeared from the chamber, groaning under the weight of the armour.

“Why did you put me in your bed?” she demanded, as soon as they were alone.

“You had said you were cold.”

“I know.” Is the man being deliberately obtuse? “But… we were naked. Both of us.”

“This is true. I prefer it that way.”

“Anything could have happened. It is not…seemly.”

He grinned at her. “Since I have given my word not to force my attentions upon you, you need have no concerns on that score. As for myself, I believe you can be trusted to control your baser instincts, regardless of the temptations thrown your way. I recall your…” he appeared to be thinking, choosing his words with care, “your enthusiasm for becoming intimately acquainted with my cock, but even so, I was quite certain that there was no danger of you doing anything untoward. Was I mistaken, Flora?”

The arrogant lout! As if I would ever…

Flora could barely credit what she had heard. It was utterly ridiculous to so much as suggest such a notion.

“Me? You think that I might…?”

He shrugged. “I did not, but since you have seen fit to raise the matter…”

Stephen ignored her gasp of outrage. Instead, the insufferable oaf tugged his shirt off, then examined a tear in the sleeve. “Damn. It was one of my finer ones, a gift from my sister-in-law. I caught it on a branch pursuing your heathen countrymen through the forest.” He set it to one side and rummaged in his trunk for another.

He was still bare-chested when he joined her at the window. “What are you finding so interesting out there?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “Leave me be.”

He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger and slipped it back behind her ear. “You are upset. I apologise. I was just teasing you…”

“Exactly. I am an object of fun to you. Do not pretend that you care about my feelings.”

“I meant no offence…”

She leapt off the windowsill to face him, still clutching the blanket to her chest. “When are you going to release me? I want to go home.”

He quirked his lip. “I have told you of my plans, but if you mean to behave like a petulant child, perhaps I should treat you accordingly.”

“Yes, I know what you said. When the fields are replanted. How long will that be?”

“I could not say with certainty. Your clansfolk are not willing labourers, sadly.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are my people being ill-treated? If you hurt any of them…”

His expression hardened. “Like you, they merely need to do as they are told, and all will be well. Eventually.”

“It is not fair. The women took no part in the reiving, yet you are forcing them to work also.”

“I know that they did not. However, the women of Elborne, and the children, too, would take part in the hunger which would have ensued this winter had I not taken the action I have to protect my people. It will not have escaped your notice that I did not burn the crops at Byrness, nor did I seize livestock, on my recent visit to your village. Such wanton destruction is not the act of a civilised neighbour, regardless of the provocation.”

“You…”

Flora fell silent. The marquis’s forbearance had, indeed, escaped her notice.

“So, I will ask you again, in the hope of a civil answer. What are you looking at out there?”

Flora felt chastened, though she could not entirely work out how he had managed to turn her righteous anger back on herself. The man was a cunning demon.

“I was listening to the sounds from the fair,” she conceded. “Lady Katherine told me about it. She means to buy spices, and wine.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I prefer good English ale, myself.”

“There is music,” she went on. “I suppose there will be dancing and other entertainment later.”

“Probably.” He draped an arm across her shoulders. “Am I to understand that you like fairs?”

She nodded, wondering whether to attempt to disengage his arm. She decided to leave things as they were.

“Very much,” she replied. She saw no harm in telling him that. “There is one in Stirling next month. I thought that, maybe…” Her voice trailed off. This vile English lord would have no interest in her hopes.

Sure enough… “I cannot stand such gatherings, myself, but they serve a purpose. Trade, passing on news, and, as you say, entertainment.”

“I had a kitten when I was a child. My mother bought him for me, at the fair. I always remember that…” Her tone had become wistful, despite her best intentions. Flora blinked back tears, yet again, determined not to allow herself to be further humiliated by this man who would simply mock her feelings and trample on them.

Stephen tipped her chin up. “Would you like to go to this fair, Flora?”

He never ceased to catch her off guard. Surely, he did not mean to permit her to leave his chamber. This was just another of his little jibes, his entertainment at her expense.

She shook her head. “No, I do not want to go.”

“Are you lying to me again, Flora?”

“I am not lying. I have no coins. And people would stare at me and probably call out vile names. I am a Scot, an enemy. They might even attack me.”

He brushed her lips with his. “I have coins should they be needed. And I doubt anyone will stare or raise a hand to you if you are at my side.”

“But you do not like fairs. You just said so.”

“But you do, Flora. And I find myself with some time to spare this day which I had not expected. Added to that, I know for a fact that the best meat pies in Christendom are to be purchased at fairs. So, shall we go?”

“I am sure you have better things to do than waste your time on me.” That had certainly been the case for the last several days, at least.

“No, not really. Do you want to go?”

“Do you mean it? Really?” She tried to conceal her eagerness in case he simply dashed her hopes again.

“I do. Your clothes are in the chest, with mine. Get dressed. We shall go to the fair and listen to the minstrels and buy fripperies. We might even find Lady Katherine and relieve her of some of that fine wine.”