If Not For The Knight - Debbie Boek (reading eggs books .txt) 📗

He had not been able to get Regan out of his mind since they met the day before, and the thought of her marrying Edgar caused him great consternation. He was afraid that he may not let the wedding proceed if he had to stay and watch.

Not, of course, because he wanted her for himself, but because he worried for her safety and did not want Edgar to have her.

Draco laughed loudly as Calder's arrow flew high, missing the running buck completely. “I think maybe your thoughts are elsewhere, Milord,” he said, still grinning.

“I worry that things might get out of hand back at the village, is all,” Calder replied defensively.

Draco kept the smile on his face. “You slept with the wench, didn't you?” Calder did not answer him for a moment, looking down and playing with the string on his bow.

“I did not mean for it to happen, but it did.” He shrugged his shoulders as if it was of no consequence.

“If you want her for yourself, why did you push for this marriage to go forward so quickly?” Draco was not a very talkative man but, when he chose to converse, he always came straight to the point.

“I don't want her for myself!” Calder almost yelled. “Her life and family are here. We leave soon and I would not have her alone. There will be many others to replace her in my bed soon enough.”

Draco kept his thoughts to himself but knew there was more to this than Calder was willing to admit.

“Shall we sit here and yell at each other all afternoon, or shall we go after the buck that you weren't able to shoot straight at?”

“Let's go,” Calder said, relieved that the conversation was over.

They hunted for the rest of the afternoon, bagging enough game to last the men for several days. They did not return to the Manor until well after the village was quiet and enveloped in darkness.

 

 

The wedding took place as planned, although the festivities were subdued in light of the recent events with the Normans. It was difficult to celebrate when family and friends had been buried just days before, and Norman knights closely watched over the gathering.

Regan walked slowly toward the river with her empty buckets, trying to remember the good parts of the day. She was acutely aware that Calder had been nowhere to be seen.

She and Edgar said their vows, though woodenly and without much joy. He would not look her in the eye, neither during the ceremony, nor at the celebration afterward.

They had lain together that night and he took her in the dark, roughly and with no love.

“There,” he said when he finished, “that should help take away your lust for that Norman bastard.”

She did not respond, just curled up on her side and quietly cried herself to sleep. He knew that she was not a virgin, and he knew why. But it was the only comment he made about it, and for that she was grateful to him.

Regan continued along the stony trail, swinging the buckets to and fro, enjoying the spring breeze blowing through her hair. She watched the birds flit from branch to branch, but in her mind's eye all she could see were deep blue eyes and soft, full lips.

Somehow, between the morning she awoke to find the proof of her lost virginity in Calder’s bed and now, she had lost the shame for what happened.

Regan tried to feel bad about it. She tried to be repentant, but found she could not. The big, mighty warrior had taken his large, strong hands and used them for nothing but tenderness on her, as Edgar had not. Calder had caused her body to respond, even when her mind did not want to, He had loved her well, as Edgar had not.

If I must spend the rest of my life with Edgar, she thought, I am glad to have the memory of one night with a man such as Calder.

Like the rest of her village, Regan feared the large, Norman knights and worried about what would become of them now, but she did not fear Calder. Both during the night she spent with him and the afternoon in the forest, he had shone her a side of himself that she was sure none of the other villagers would ever see.

As fierce a warrior as he was, he could be extremely gentle when the occasion called for it. He was not as fearsome as he would like to have the villagers think. But, soon he would be gone and her mundane life would continue as before, albeit under the rule of his brother.

She had caught glimpses of Calder over the past few days, practicing with his men or riding his great steed through the village. When she saw him, a blush would instantly cover her cheeks and her heart would begin to beat wildly in her chest. She found it hard to look away from him and knew others in the village would start to take notice if she was not careful.

He must leave soon and not ever come back, she thought sadly, else I will never be able to find peace of mind again.

She filled her water buckets and was on her way back home. Nearing the edge of the forest, she stifled a shriek as someone jumped out, grabbing her around the waist with one hand while putting the other across her mouth.

“Hey, lass, we hear the Norman bastards took yer village, is that so?” His rancid breath almost made her retch as she nodded her head.

He took his dirty, smelly hand away from her mouth and she gasped in deep breaths of fresh air.

There were two of them, both dirty and unkempt, and they greedily looked her up and down, lecherous grins exploding on their faces.

“Mayhap we best have a piece o' ye afore the Normans slit yer throat, eh, Miss?”

She tried to back away from them, but the tall, skinny one held tight to her waist.

“Don't be runnin' now, lass. We've a need fer some infermation. There's some what would pay in gold fer it.”

The shorter man, with the wide, stupid, gap-toothed grin said, “But, there's no reason we can't be havin' a little fun wit ye first.”

Regan screamed then, as loud and as long as she could before the tall one slapped her hard across the face, knocking her to the ground.

“Don't be tellin' me ye've turned into a Norman lover, lass,” the tall one growled, his small, pig like eyes devouring her.

He reached down to take her arm, then whirled at the sound of thundering hooves approaching.

“Damn!” the short one exclaimed. “Grab the girl. We best get out o' here fast.” The tall one bent to seize her. She kicked him between the legs as hard as she could and he doubled over in pain. With a venomous glare at Regan, he turned and began to limp slowly away. Just a few feet from where Regan lay, he came to a stumbling halt when an arrow flew through the air and struck him in the back of the neck. Pitching forward onto the ground, he died instantly.

Calder and four of his men arrived seconds later.

“How many?” he yelled down to her.

“Just one more. He ran that way.” she answered, pointing toward the river. Calder reined in his mount and nodded in the direction she indicated. His men took off after the vagabond.

Gracefully sliding off his horse, Calder knelt beside her. “How badly are you hurt?” he asked, seeing the red welt on her face.

“I'm fine,” she said shakily. “You arrived before they could do anything.”

“Who were they?” he asked, helping her up.

“I've never seen them before. They wanted information about you and your men. They said someone was willing to pay them gold for it.”

He looked at her sharply. “Did they say who, or for what reason?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head.

He saw her tremble and put his arms around her, enveloping her completely. “Looks like you were right, after all,” he said softly, resting his chin on the top of her head. “We Normans have made the woods more dangerous for you.”

She stepped out of his embrace, fearing her own response to his nearness. The scent of him, sweat, horses and pure maleness, was filling her senses, making her feel almost dizzy. And the safety and comfort she found in his arms was too dangerous to become accustomed to. She needed to get away from him as quickly as possible.

But Calder was not willing to let her escape so easily. He gently grabbed her arm, pulling her back close to him, lifting her chin so that she would have to look him in the eye. “Do not come back into the forest for awhile, Regan. The next time my men and I may not be close enough to hear you scream.”

She lost herself completely in his sapphire eyes; they had some sort of magnetic pull that she was helpless to resist. Taking a step closer and raising herself on her toes, she gently kissed his lips.

The spark she ignited by doing so quickly turned into a raging fire and she found herself being held tightly against his hard, unyielding body as his mouth took possession of hers.

Of their own volition, her hands found their way around his neck and entwined themselves in