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  “Where is the Welshman now?”

  “I know not, my lord. Peradventure he is in Wales, though his music and his skill with a bow are much in demand. He may yet be in England.”

  “A bard and a bowman…an unusual combination.” Renaud frowned in concentration as he considered the idea.

  “Not for a Welshman,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  Renaud smiled, amused. She was so serious, so insistent, this servant who acted like no servant he’d ever known. “Aye, mayhap you are right. Many Welshmen would have both talents.”

  He let go of her hand, but remained close. He knew now what had attracted his men for he, too, was falling under her spell. She was beautiful and well-spoken and something about her enticed him. If she had been the leman of this brother of Lady Serena’s or the bard Rhodri, it was possible she was not a maiden and would accept an invitation to come to his bed. If Lady Serena lingered in Scotland, he might have no woman for some time.

  He brushed his knuckles along her jaw from her ear to her chin and then down her neck, feeling her skin like warm silk. She shivered and looked away.

  His mind conjured a picture of the feminine creature naked in his bed. His heart beat rapidly and his loins grew heavy. Wild images began filling his head.

  He imagined taking the beautiful serving girl in his arms and kissing her softly, deeply, hearing her purring with delight. In his mind he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the fur covered bed. Throwing her gently to the bed cushion, he covered her beckoning body with his own, pressing firmly into her softness as he kissed her again, letting his kisses rain over her face and down her neck, following a trail to the swell of her breasts. His excitement was growing, his hardening manhood the proof.

  “My lord,” Sarah whispered. “My lord, is something wrong?” This time the question was louder than before, bringing him back to the present. He blinked.

  The girl looked as if she was preparing to flee. It had been too long since he’d had a woman. His heart pumping, he controlled his breath and shook himself out of his fantasy.

  “Sarah, would you come willingly to my bed?”

  Angry violet eyes glared at him. “Nay! I may be seventeen summers but I am a maiden still!”

  So, the kitten has claws. Her fierce reaction suggested she spoke the truth, or was it only that she hated Normans enough to lie and lie well?

  “You have said no woman would be forced by you or your men,” she reminded him.

  He slid a finger along her jaw and saw her shiver. “You could come to me of your own accord, Sarah. I desire you.” It occurred to him then that if she were a maiden still, mayhap he should help her find a worthy husband among his men, but he found no joy in such a thought. No, he wanted this one in no other bed but his own.

  She glared at him. “Are you not promised to Lady Serena?”

  He stepped back at her challenging words, forcing his ardor to cool. “Yea, she has been given to me by William’s decree, and I will take her to wife because I must. It is my duty. But she is not here. Even if she were, you could be my leman.” He knew he would never have a desire like this for the woman William had ordered him to marry. And he did not want to let the comely servant go.

  “Nay! I would never come willingly to a Norman’s bed. And I will be no man’s whore.”

  Her words hit him like a hard slap. He was surprised a servant would be so adamant to refuse her lord, now an earl, even if he were a Norman. But he would not press the matter. He could be patient, at least for a while. With the challenge of wooing Sarah to his bed, he might not mind the absence of Lady Serena.

  Stepping away from her, he flicked his fingers toward the door. “Go then. Your work is done here for today.”

  * * *

  Serena looked up at the clouds gathering above her. Hunting the next day not far from the village, she was hurrying to take enough rabbits to satisfy Maggie before the deluge began. She’d taken four when a woman’s scream broke the quiet of the woods. Dropping her catch, she ran toward the sound. As she neared the small clearing just ahead, she heard a familiar voice.

  “Nay! Let go of me! Do not do this!” the woman pleaded.

  “Come wench! Give me what I want and I will gladly release you.” The man’s voice was deep, husky and harsh.

  Serena stepped into the clearing just as she heard the sound of ripping cloth. She had known who the woman was. Eawyn was her friend. And she knew the knight from the hall when she had first served the Normans their evening meal. His leering glances had made her uneasy.

  With one hand, the swarthy dark-haired knight held the woman in his grasp while wrenching down her tunic and shift, tearing the cloth still further. Eawyn struggled to pull away while clutching at the torn fabric with her free hand, trying in vain to cover her naked breasts.

  He reached out to touch one of the pink-tipped mounds of pale flesh, and Eawyn let out a pathetic wail.

  With lightning speed, Serena moved her bow into place nocking an arrow and pulling it back, ready to fire.

  The knight threw Eawyn roughly to the ground, falling heavily atop her. With her hands pinned beneath his weight, there was nothing Eawyn could do to fight off the inevitable.

  “Release her!” Serena shouted.

  The knight did not stop but mercilessly squeezed one of Eawyn’s breasts, while violently sucking the other into his mouth. Eawyn writhed beneath the Norman, struggling to free herself while he shoved his other hand between her legs, pulling up her tunic.

  “Stop, I say!”

  The knight turned to see Serena’s poised bow. Rolling off Eawyn, he rose from the ground, dragging the terrified woman with him, still holding her in his punishing grip. “Ah, another young beauty…and this one with a toy in hand. Come join us wench and we shall have good sport. There is more than enough of me for the both of you.”

  With cold determination Serena looked into the dark eyes of the beefy knight, who unlike his fellow Normans, wore a mustache and short beard and was all the more menacing for them.

  “I will not miss my mark, Norman. Let her go now, or I’ll dispatch you to hell where you surely belong.” She would not hesitate to kill this man who would defile one of Talisand’s women. The vengeance she craved ran strong and deep. Not just for Eawyn, but for her father, Talisand and all of England.

  Still holding the struggling Eawyn, the knight laughed.

  Serena would give him one last chance. She aimed for the arm that held her friend. Letting the arrow fly, its metal tip sank deep into the fleshy part of his arm, sending a warning the knight could not ignore.

  With an oath, he let go of Eawyn. “What have you done, wench?” He looked at his arm dripping blood. “For this you will pay!”

  “I think not,” Serena said. “Now, move away from her.” Serena quickly nocked another arrow. This one she would aim at his heart.

  “Nay, I shall have my feast here in the woods,” he said defiantly, his dark eyes crazed as he gripped Eawyn with the hand of his uninjured arm. “And then I shall have you before I kill you!”

  “Say your prayers, Norman, for hell awaits you!” About to let her arrow fly, Serena heard heavy footfalls behind her, snapping twigs.

  “What goes here, Sir Hugue?” The blond knight who was companion to the Red Wolf stomped into the clearing and stood next to Serena. In a gentle voice he said, “It was good your aim went amiss, Sarah. You do not want the death of a knight laid upon you. Put down your bow. I will handle this.”

  Serena slowly lowered her bow but did not take the arrow from its place, nor her eyes from the one called Sir Hugue. Inside she still seethed.

  At the blond knight’s words, the knight who held Eawyn released her and stepped back, lowering his head as if a humble suppliant. To Serena, his submission appeared feigned. His arm where the arrow pierced it dripped blood but he seemed not to notice. “Naught but a bit of sport, Sir Geoffroi. And for it, I took an arrow in my arm from the wench.”

  Eawyn ran to Serena who dr
opped one of her hands from her bow to wrap an arm around the distraught woman who was desperately trying to cover herself.

  Serena whispered in her ear, “Do not reveal my identity.”

  Eawyn’s dark tresses had come loose from her plait to fall in strings around her face and her blue eyes were full of tears, but she nodded even as she continued to sob.

  “The maid does not look willing to me, Sir Hugue.” Sir Geoffroi’s voice brooked no excuse. “What were you thinking? Do you not know the Red Wolf’s rules concerning the women?”

  “Aye, I know his rules,” Sir Hugue scoffed. “We are not to take a lady unwilling. But surely that does not include the servants!”

  The knight named Sir Geoffroi narrowed his eyes at the other man’s words. “It does and you know it.”

  Serena was aware that most knights only respected the virtue of women of their own rank, but she had heard the words of the Red Wolf. He held his men to a higher standard. Though she had doubted the truth of it at the time, now she believed.

  Before Sir Hugue could answer, Serena spoke, her voice livid with disdain. “Even if that could excuse him, which it does not, Eawyn is no servant. She is the lady of the west manor and widow of Ulrich, one of the old thegn’s most trusted men. Though she is now on foot, she would have ridden here on a horse. Her black palfrey cannot be far. This Norman should die for the offense he has shown this gentle woman.” She let go of Eawyn and raised her bow, again aiming at the knight’s chest, sincere in her desire to see the miscreant dead.

  Sir Geoffroi’s hand on her arm stayed her pull on the arrow. “Put down the bow, Sarah. I will protect Eawyn.” The blond knight took off his mantle and draped it around the sobbing woman’s shoulders, covering her nakedness. Glaring at the knight before him, he ordered, “Come with me, Sir Hugue.”

  Reluctantly, Serena lowered her bow. The knight called Sir Hugue uttered a disgruntled noise and followed Sir Geoffroi. The blond knight rested his hand protectively on Eawyn’s shoulders, and with gentleness guided her in the direction of the manor.

  Her heart still racing from the encounter, Serena went in search of her rabbits and Eawyn’s horse. She hoped Sir Geoffroi would report to his lord what had happened. The Red Wolf would see the knight who had harmed Eawyn was punished.

  Or Serena would see to it herself.

  Chapter 5

  “I tell you, Ren, the servant girl Sarah would have killed the mercenary, no matter how many arrows it took her to see the task done. She had already managed to strike him in the arm. You should have heard her when she told him he would soon be in hell. Had I not been riding by and heard the widow’s screams I am certain the mercenary would now be lying cold and dead among the trees with arrows sticking out of his various parts.”

  Looking up from the castle plans spread over the table in his chamber, Renaud watched Geoff pace the room. It was clear this servant girl had gained the respect of his most senior knight. He sat back. “Why was Sarah in the woods?” She should not have been alone. Anything could have happened to her. The mercenary might have found her instead of the other woman.

  “She was hunting rabbits for the cook. Apparently she recovered her bow from among those we had stored in the armory. I suppose that was a good thing.”

  “The girl hunts?” Renaud raised a brow. He knew she had been trained by the bard to handle a bow, but he had thought it was only for sport.

  “Maggie says she does, though I had not really thought much about it ’til now. ’Tis most unusual for a serving wench.”

  “Yea, but she was one of the servants Sir Maurin recovered that first night. Sarah told me a Welshman the old lord invited here taught many to use the bow, including her. I had not realized she hunted as well.”

  “I’ve not seen servants taught archery,” Geoff said, drawing his brows together. “The thegn must have been an unusual man.”

  “We know he was. But why was the widow in the woods alone?”

  “She came to let you know she has remained in the west manor she occupied with her husband. From what she told me, Sir Hugue dragged her from her horse.”

  The thought of any woman being dragged from a horse and made to suffer the lust of one of his knights sent Renaud into a rage. “Damn the mercenary! He knows the rules.”

  “Eawyn told me her husband was killed with the English who fought the Norwegian, Harald Hardrada, at Stamford Bridge.”

  “Does she also bear hatred for Normans?” He would not be surprised given what she’d experienced. Even if the widow’s husband had not been slain by a Norman, Renaud was keenly aware the English blamed them for all that had happened since Hastings, and now she had been nearly raped by one of his own.

  “From what I can tell, Eawyn is a gentle lady and, unlike the servant girl Sarah, not given to strident disdain for her new masters.”

  “Sir Hugue has not long been with us, has he?” Renaud wondered what punishment would satisfy the lady and his own need for justice.

  “Yea, not long. I do not trust him, Ren. He knew your rules—they all do. He simply chose to ignore them.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “In the hall with Sir Maurin and some of the men. His wound has been tended.”

  “I take no joy in losing a man, even a mercenary, and a hundred stripes on the back of a fool availith little. But he must serve as an example to those who would question my orders, especially when it comes to the honor of Talisand’s women. ’Twas my honor he besmirched as well as hers, since I assured the women they would be safe.”

  “Your knights know why you feel as you do. They do not question your rules and, at the risk of the Red Wolf’s ire, none would challenge them. But there are not enough whores at Talisand to satisfy their lust. That is why they work so hard to win the affections of the young women in the village. Many hope to marry and settle here.”

  That his men wanted to stay at Talisand pleased him. “I shall discipline the mercenary.” Renaud set aside his drawings and rose. “Come, let us see to this unpleasant task.”

  * * *

  Serena looked up as the murmurings of the Normans came to a sudden halt when the Red Wolf strode through the doorway leading from the manor into the hall. His face bore a thunderous expression, and his hands were curled into fists at his side. She could feel the anger flowing from him, and stepped back, curious to see what he would do to one of his own who had disobeyed his command. Despite her intention to hate the new lord of Talisand, she was glad for his anger, his confident manner and the deferential nods from his men. They would not question his discipline.

  The hall was crowded with knights and a few of the strong men of Talisand, including Leppe, Alec and Theodric, the blond giant who had been her father’s captain. She was glad he had stayed, though she knew it was difficult for him to serve a Norman. But he had a family to think of.

  Serena had asked Sir Geoffroi if she and Eawyn could be present. Reluctant at first to grant her request, Serena had pleaded with him, saying Eawyn had a right to know what would happen to the knight who tried to violate her. Sir Geoffroi had relented.

  The Red Wolf stepped briskly to where Sir Hugue stood, guarded by Sir Maurin, who had carried Serena back to the manor that first night.

  “Sir Hugue,” began the Red Wolf, “you have violated a standard to which I hold all of my men. If Sir Geoffroi had not discovered your attack on the young widow, had you succeeded, the penalty would have been death.”

  Sir Hugue paled in the face of his lord’s wrath.

  “William himself has decreed such before,” stated the Red Wolf. “Still, while you will not forfeit your life for what fell short of your vile intent, you will be punished. Twenty lashes and you will leave Talisand, never to return. I refuse to count among my knights a man without honor.”

  Sir Hugue’s eyes flamed in rebellion but he held his tongue. In the faces of the Norman knights, Serena saw acceptance of their leader’s judgment, even respect. She was confident there would be no second chance f
or this defiler of women. And with that knowledge came another revelation. For the second time, Serena wondered at the powerful knight to whom she had been given by the Norman king. The Red Wolf’s uncompromising character had stirred a feeling inside her that she did not comprehend. Mayhap it was the same respect displayed by his men. Mayhap it was more. Those same tingling feelings she’d experienced when he stroked her palm returned. Against her will, she was drawn to the uncompromising knight. Yet at the same time, she wondered what punishment he would mete out for her, who had deceived him and denied him the wife he was due.

  Sir Maurin took Sir Hugue by the arm and, with another knight, led him toward the door to the yard where presumably the punishment would be carried out.

  The Red Wolf turned to Eawyn, his eyes first pausing on Serena. “Eawyn, I am sorry for what has happened. I know you came but to speak with me. I welcome you.”

  Eawyn had calmed, but her cheeks were still flushed and stained with tears. Serena had taken her to the chamber above stairs and given her one of the Lady Serena’s gowns to replace the one that was ruined, explaining to the others that Lady Serena would have done no less. Sir Geoffroi stood on Eawyn’s other side lending the young woman his strength as she leaned close to him.

  “Thank you, my lord,” Eawyn said to the Red Wolf. “I did but want to tell you I was living in the west manor should you have need of it for your knights.”

  “You can stay there for the present, Eawyn, but I will have one of my men escort you back. Do you dwell there alone?”

  “Nay, my lord. I have a female servant who works at the manor, a stable boy and men who dwell nearby and tend the fields and see to the stock. The men have all sworn fealty to you. I know I should not have come to Talisand alone, but I had done so before, and I did not want to take the men from their work as they plant the new wheat.”

  He nodded and turned to Sir Geoffroi. “See that one of the men escorts the lady back to the west manor.”