Page 79 of Bold Angel
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Caryn spent the day in the village, trying to offer hope when her people felt only bitter despair.
“Lord Ral will not let you starve,” she promised Nelda, Leofric’s widowed mother. “He has grain put away for just such times. You must trust him to provide for you.”
“The lord is far from rich. Even should we survive this winter, what will happen to us the next?”
“My husband will find a way. You must believe that, Nelda.”
But even Caryn had her doubts, and they mushroomed when later that eve she found her husband brooding in the solar. He sat before a stout oak table, his elbows propped upon it, his head resting wearily in his hands. Thick black hair pushed through his fingers, catching the light of a candle that guttered in a pool ofmelting wax. Tension constricted the muscles across his broad shoulders, and Caryn felt an unwelcome pang at the sight.
“Good eventide, my lord,” she said softly, pity for him rising though she tried to force it down. “You were missed at supper.”
“Was I?” he said, his head coming up. “By whom? You, Caryn?”
Yes,she thought.I miss you more each day.“Odo asks after you. Richard and the others.”
“With Braxston’s animals being slaughtered, I have no appetite for food.”
In truth, neither had she. “I have been to the village. I have spoken to the people. I have told them you will not see them starve.”
Ral sighed wearily. “Such a plague could not have come at a worse time.”
“Will you be able to keep them fed?”
“’Twill be a close thing. Building the keep was expensive and though I am no pauper, I am not a wealthy man.”
“You are still allowed to hunt and there is yet grain in our stores. Mayhap ’twill be enough.”
“’Twill have to be enough.” Worry lines marred his forehead. “I would that things were different, that the villeins had not been burdened so heavily. But constructing the keep was all important. It guards the pass from raiders. ’Tis central to William’s defenses.”
“’Tis said King William granted you this land because you saved his life.”
“That is so.”
“You are a man brave in battle. ’Tis only that you face a different battle now.”
Ral leaned forward in his chair. “And what of you, Caryn? Do you face that battle with me?” His dark look had shifted, gone from brooding to uncertain. Then she saw the hungry look of his desire.
“Aye, my lord.I would do whatever it takes to help my people.” It was not what he meant and she knew it. He wanted her returned to his bed. In a way she wanted it, too, but she knew what danger lay in that direction, and she dared not give her heart to him again.
For a long while Ral said nothing, just watched her in that way of his, making her feel uneasy, bringing back memories of what it had been like to lie in his arms. Then he shoved back his chair and came to his feet, filling the room with his towering frame. When he rounded the table and strode toward her, Caryn took a step away.
“I want you, Caryn.” He reached for her, swept her into a fierce embrace. “I need you.”
She could feel the strength of him, the power in the muscles that rippled against her breast and thighs. His mouth claimed hers and Caryn felt the heat of it, the incredible sensuous warmth. There was so much passion in his touch, so much yearning, for a moment she gave into it, kissing him back, leaning against his powerful frame.
Then she realized what she was doing, stiffened and pulled away. “I-I beg your leave, my lord.” Her hands shook, so she held them against her russet tunic.
“You are my wife,” he said. “This has gone on long enough.” Stepping toward her, he caught her up in his arms, holding her against his wide chest. Caryn started to protest, but the strength of his hands and the length of his strides told her it would do no good.
Ral kissed her as they moved down the hall toward their chamber, a demanding kiss fraught with heat, then he kicked open the door with a booted-foot and carried her over to his bed. Already she blazed with heat, the fires of passion licking hotly through her veins, yet she knew where this was leading and she’d had time to steel herself.
When he began to remove her clothes, she made nomove to stop him, but neither did she help him. She just stood stiff and unyielding, letting him fumble with the ties, letting him pull the garment off over her head. Ral seemed not to notice, or if he did, he did not care. In minutes, he had stripped off her clothes and his own, and settled her atop his big bed.
“You are a fire in my blood,” he said, following her down, his powerful body pressing her into the mattress. “I have never wanted another the way I want you.”
He wanted her—just as he had before. And yet he had gone to his leman.
