strangled scream, drawing her gaze. She saw then that she was on the battlements once more, saw a look of sheer terror on William’s face. As the shadowy figure moved away from her and stalked toward him, he seemed to come out of his state of frozen fear. Uttering a sound of horror, he tried to run.
Bronwyn blinked, trying to focus her vision, struggling against a wave of shock as she saw the man/beast seize William, lifting his frantically beating legs from the floor. Effortlessly, it seemed to her, the creature shook him like a dog tearing at its prey and then pitched him into the darkness beyond the crenellations.
William’s scream stabbed through her frozen shock like a fiery spear, sending echoes of his terror through her until it became her own. Fighting the urge to give into the loss of consciousness, Bronwyn struggled to move, fought her weakness to try to flee.
“Troublesome female!”
The voice sounded impossibly deep--and angry, rumbling from a chest fathoms wide.
She felt his nearness a split second before two hands closed around her that dwarfed her. She couldn’t voice her fear, couldn’t find the strength to struggle as he lifted her with arms like young oaks, brought her against an enormous chest.
Warmth surrounded her as he settled her there. Comforted by his oddly gentle hold, Bronwyn leaned weakly against his hard chest. “S..saved me,” she managed to whisper, surprise in voice.
There was a lengthy pause before he responded. “Aye, and damned myself,” he growled, his voice sounding gravelly with disuse.
Chastened but reassured that he truly had rescued her, Bronwyn inched a hand along his hard, smooth chest to curl her fingers along the broad column of his neck as he began to stride briskly across the ramparts.
“William?”
Again there was a significant pause, as if he was reluctant to speak at all. “Was despondent over the loss of his son and the certainty that he would lose his wife, as well, and leapt from the castle walls to his death.”
There was amusement in his voice, satisfaction.
A shiver skated through her.
By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs Bronwyn’s teeth were chattering with reaction and cold. He pulled her more tightly against his body, sharing his warmth.
He had little to share. His body was nigh as chilled as her own, but the gesture comforted her, made her feel more certain of his protection.
Unerringly, he entered the castle and headed directly toward her chambers, as if he was as familiar with the castle as she was.
Her bed chamber was deserted. William had seen to that, sending her women away to ‘attend his beloved wife’ himself.
She clung to him as he lowered her to her bed, unwilling to let go of the comforting safety of his arms. He grasped her hands, peeling them gently but firmly from him. She closed her cold fingers around his hands when he would have released her, peering up at him through the swollen slits of her eyes.
A spark of fear went through her as she caught her first real glimpse of him, and even so the shadowy room concealed as much as it revealed. There was beauty in his face, but only the reflection of it from within for his kindness. The face above her was as harsh and craggy as hewn stone. She dismissed the fear. He’d saved her from William at great cost to himself from what he had said. “Do not leave me,” she begged shakily.
He stared down at the hands that gripped his so frantically.
Something flickered in her pale blue eyes. A frown flitted across his face, making it even more harsh. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he twisted his hands in hers and ran one thumb lightly over her own where it rested against his broad palm.
He lifted his gaze after a moment, scanning her bruised and battered face, his expression growing harder.
Embarrassed, realizing the same sources of light--the fire in the hearth and the
Bronwyn blinked, trying to focus her vision, struggling against a wave of shock as she saw the man/beast seize William, lifting his frantically beating legs from the floor. Effortlessly, it seemed to her, the creature shook him like a dog tearing at its prey and then pitched him into the darkness beyond the crenellations.
William’s scream stabbed through her frozen shock like a fiery spear, sending echoes of his terror through her until it became her own. Fighting the urge to give into the loss of consciousness, Bronwyn struggled to move, fought her weakness to try to flee.
“Troublesome female!”
The voice sounded impossibly deep--and angry, rumbling from a chest fathoms wide.
She felt his nearness a split second before two hands closed around her that dwarfed her. She couldn’t voice her fear, couldn’t find the strength to struggle as he lifted her with arms like young oaks, brought her against an enormous chest.
Warmth surrounded her as he settled her there. Comforted by his oddly gentle hold, Bronwyn leaned weakly against his hard chest. “S..saved me,” she managed to whisper, surprise in voice.
There was a lengthy pause before he responded. “Aye, and damned myself,” he growled, his voice sounding gravelly with disuse.
Chastened but reassured that he truly had rescued her, Bronwyn inched a hand along his hard, smooth chest to curl her fingers along the broad column of his neck as he began to stride briskly across the ramparts.
“William?”
Again there was a significant pause, as if he was reluctant to speak at all. “Was despondent over the loss of his son and the certainty that he would lose his wife, as well, and leapt from the castle walls to his death.”
There was amusement in his voice, satisfaction.
A shiver skated through her.
By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs Bronwyn’s teeth were chattering with reaction and cold. He pulled her more tightly against his body, sharing his warmth.
He had little to share. His body was nigh as chilled as her own, but the gesture comforted her, made her feel more certain of his protection.
Unerringly, he entered the castle and headed directly toward her chambers, as if he was as familiar with the castle as she was.
Her bed chamber was deserted. William had seen to that, sending her women away to ‘attend his beloved wife’ himself.
She clung to him as he lowered her to her bed, unwilling to let go of the comforting safety of his arms. He grasped her hands, peeling them gently but firmly from him. She closed her cold fingers around his hands when he would have released her, peering up at him through the swollen slits of her eyes.
A spark of fear went through her as she caught her first real glimpse of him, and even so the shadowy room concealed as much as it revealed. There was beauty in his face, but only the reflection of it from within for his kindness. The face above her was as harsh and craggy as hewn stone. She dismissed the fear. He’d saved her from William at great cost to himself from what he had said. “Do not leave me,” she begged shakily.
He stared down at the hands that gripped his so frantically.
Something flickered in her pale blue eyes. A frown flitted across his face, making it even more harsh. Almost as if he couldn’t help himself, he twisted his hands in hers and ran one thumb lightly over her own where it rested against his broad palm.
He lifted his gaze after a moment, scanning her bruised and battered face, his expression growing harder.
Embarrassed, realizing the same sources of light--the fire in the hearth and the
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