Conquering the Dark Axe Page 9

  “Ah, so you did notice.” Her body stiffening told him all he needed to know. He continued, “Try to escape again and I will beat you.”

  Alexa roared. “Do so and I will kill you while you sleep.”

  His hand circled her throat. William’s words came back to him and Rourke tightened his grip. “Did I not tell you to cease your silly threats?”

  “Never. It’s not a silly threat. I will not stop. Until you are dead!” She spat hotly.

  “God’s blood! You will cease to threaten me. Your aim to kill me proves true with your will to cut me yet again with your ridiculous weapon. Still you do not learn!” He bellowed.

  Alexa kicked her feet when she saw him reaching to his waist for the band he had tied there. Nay! She could not bear to be bound again. Rage made her strike out with the only weapon she had left, her mouth. “It cut you all the same, did it not? Had I but not shoved just a bit harder and deeper.”

  He shook his head in disbelief and his cruel laugh made her cringe. “Such steadfast impertinence. You are your own worst enemy, hellion.”

  His words and the look in his eyes did something to her and Alexa felt something in her snap. She freed one hand and tried to scratch his cheek, but Rourke turned his head in time and her nails raked his neck.

  He cursed and then yelled, “Stop!” She was like a madwoman and when he subdued her enough to clasp both of her hands in his one above her head, he repeated, “Stop!”

  She bucked violently beneath him, then leaned up and tried to bite him. Rourke drew back. A true devil of a hellion. Rage shook him as he pressed down on her harder and shouted. “Enough! Continue to fight and I’ll strip you right here and bind you with your own clothing. ‘Tis your choice.” Rourke’s yell was as loud as hers when she turned her head and sank her teeth into the fleshy part of his palm.

  “You highborn Saxon bitch!”

  He tore his hand from her and held her in a death grip. His blood smeared her parted lips. A string of French words spewed from his mouth. Alexa understood some of it, but his words came too fast for her to decipher it all. She just knew they were really bad and she wanted to shrink away from them, but she would not and the willfulness in made her raise her chin.

  His tirade stopped and his expression changed to something deadly at her blatant defiance. Alexa lay still as death and fear engulfed her in that scant second it took for her to recognize she’d truly pushed him beyond.

  Intense disgust blazed brightly in his emerald depths and she did not think it was possible again, but the man stood and lifted her by neck with his hand still on her throat and shook her. She was surprised her neck did not snap he’d done it so hard and she was left with her head spinning, dazed.

  “God’s blood! There is no win with you, hellion.” He snarled and tore the band from his waist. Alexa choked on her scream.

  She was trapped. His gaze burned into hers, his words spoken coolly. “I could have simply ridden in here and taken this place with plenty bloodshed. Had it been a year ago, I would not have thought twice about killing you or leaving you to be raped by us Norman swine. In truth it can still be arranged if your plan is to make me so Norman savage again.” Her grimace of terror over his harsh and mock words did not move him. He’d had enough. Her steady and willful defiance infuriated him beyond any foe he’d ever met in battle.

  Heartless he was. Alexa pressed her lips tight with a sniff and told him, “Do your worst.”

  She wanted to take the words back, but it was too late. Cursing her damning tongue, she fought back the sting of tears as he roughly wrapped the cloth around her wrists.

  “’Tis the last time ever a threat leaves your lips toward me. Had I not need of an heir, I would find more of that wine and pour it down your throat myself.” Rourke felt her stiffen and he did not care. He was too full of ire and something else. She had brought this upon herself. “I had thought to give you some slack. But you took more. You have brought this upon yourself. You will now remain in a separate chamber.”

  His glare and words were so cold and empty. Alexa tried to duplicate the same tone and she countered sharply, “Good. I do not wish to share a bed with you, Norman.”

  “’Tis your true prison with no reprieve, hellion.” Water filled those wide amber eyes of hers as dawning finally struck home and Rourke relished the fear he read there. “As before, I will come to you nightly to plant my seed. Whether it is a year, two, three or five…Once it takes, you will have my son. Then and only then shall you be free to do what you want. For I will have no need, as tempting as it is, to partake of your traitorous Saxon flesh.”

  Alexa gasped at the horror of his words and the truth in those green glittering eyes in the dark of the twilight. Deep grief slammed her. He yanked her sword from the ground, along with her dagger. Saddened and shaken by his words, she stood stiffly as he threw her over his shoulder, not at all gently as he’d once done before.

  “The person that returned your sword to you will be punished. As for this shack…‘twill be burnt to the ground.”

  She heard no more as he stomped back toward the manor.

  THIRTEEN

  True to his word, he had her things moved to the empty room across the hall. Lisbeth’s bedroom. As the servants brought in her things he’d stood there over the bed the entire time watching her. Those cruel green eyes tore a painful bleeding path to her heart and Alexa, something inside her breaking, turned away from him.

  She did not look at him again until she heard the clank of steel in the room. She turned to see her blacksmith, a mournful expression upon his old tired and weathered face as he handed the pile of irons to his lord. He left without meeting her gaze.

  Alexa’s eyes widened on the iron chains in her husband’s large hands. Four small cuffs were hanging from those chains. Her facade of bravery crumbled as her eyes shot up to his. He wouldn't!

  She wanted to scream but when her eyes met his she saw nothing in them. He did nothing more than hold her gaze as he slid the cold irons around her wrists as she fought him.

  She twisted and turned but he held her. No one came to her aid and she damned them all, along with him to hell. She cursed him loudly, not caring if they heard. Alexa was breathless as was he. She would not break under his stare, she would not.

  A second later, her eyes begged him silently for mercy.

  None came.

  His man, Goran, refusing to watch, shot him a dark, baleful look of disapproval but the Norman ignored his friend and Goran turned and walked out. Rourke clamped the cold irons around her ankles binding her completely in front of all that had remained. No slack. She had seen the rage in his eyes; his large frame had shaken with it and seemed to grow in intensity with each extremity he’d fastened. She’d felt the tremble in his warm fingertips against her skin, but when he was done, he did not look at her again. She kept her gaze riveted to his face, trying to will him to look at her.

  Rourke, awash with the guilt and regret for what she had forced him to do, could barely force himself to look at her for fear he’d back down from her stricken expression. He could scarcely breathe. The best attack on one like her, one as proud and willful as she…was humiliation. He would not lose another one to death nor would he add to the pain of the one he already carried. That pain far outweighed what he was doing to her.

  He ignored her stricken expression and tamped down the remorseful feeling washing over him. He replaced it again with the anger of her attempted escape. She had reduced him to behave like the Norman savage she had so branded him and now she had to deal with the consequences.

  Feeling her lip tremble as she gripped the cold steel chains in her hands, Alexa closed her eyes against the sight of him before she lost the battle of wills with him. What had she done?

  She heard people moving about and she cracked her lids open. They were now alone.

  He stood silently next to the bed, his broad back, rigid, faced her. Then he walked to the door. Alexa held her breath. She now knew her anger was
at herself, not him. When he remained at the door, she waited, trembling with hope.

  He did not turn and closed the chamber door quietly behind him. The hope in her died and the flood gates opened. The man had tried. He’d been willing to meet her halfway after the poison and she- she had been so angry and upset at the emotions he stirred deep inside her and seemed to think naught of them that she had let her hot temper get the best of her. Alexa found herself crying harder than she had on their wedding night.

  Alexa woke to something warm and soft caressing her belly. She came out of her deep sleep and his smell hit her first. Woodsy and masculine. It was night. He had not lied. He had come to her.

  One taper gave light inside the smaller chamber. She had on a thin shift and tied as she was and in the position needed for him to do his duty, there was nothing she could do. She shivered under his touch and looked up to see that his hooded gaze watched her. He held her gaze for a long moment, saying nothing. Then he leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against hers. A shiver shot down to her feet.

  She jumped when his tongue licked the sensitive skin just below her ear. She bit her lip to stifle the cry that bubbled forth. Her heart ached as she lay there while his hands roamed over her body.

  She’d cried so hard over her dilemma that she’d made herself sick. She’d not eaten from the platter that had come up. She saw now that it still sat on the table next to the bed. His gaze drifted to it. But he said nothing. Pain twisted inside her. Would he not tell her to eat for strength so she could be healthy enough to give him his son? Nay. Tears stung her eyes. He would not, for his golden head had moved lower and now he was kissing her breasts through the thin shift and Alexa was damned. The sins of the flesh reared and she shook under him as her body, the traitorous beast it was, forsake her once again and responded with eagerness when he took her hardened pebble into his hot mouth.

  She hated what had happened.

  She hated him.

  She hated herself more.

  Hot angry tears gushed from her and she trembled with them from the sweet torment he was delivering to her breasts. So lost in her grief, it was a moment before she realized that he no longer suckled her, but was sitting up, his intense gaze on her again. Her sobs heavy, she stared back. The anger that was storming in his narrow gaze seared her to her very soul.

  After a moment, he rose and left the chamber without a word or backward glance.

  Moments later Camm came in with the key to free her so she could relieve herself. She came with the guards at the door. But Alexa did not care. Escape was no longer in her mind. She was too drained for those thoughts. Something inside she’d not known was there had withered when Rourke had closed the door behind him this time. She spoke no words to her worried, faithful maid and within moments she climbed back into bed and quickly fell asleep.

  FOURTEEN

  By the third day of confinement, word came to Rourke by way of Camm that his wife still refused to eat. Her confinement had not stopped him. He ate even though he did not taste his food. He swallowed down the last of the elderberry wine when he spotted a disgruntled Goran entering the hall. Rourke tore another piece of the seasoned meat off a leg of the overcooked fowl. Goran dropped down in the seat next to him and Rourke could feel his eyes on him. Yet he kept his gaze fixed on a spot above the entrance of the hall, feigning interest on the wooden beams.

  “No surprise your appetite does not seem to be affected.”

  Rourke ignored his gibe and sank his teeth once again into the meat with added relish. He knew what Goran was after, but this time, he would not engage him just yet.

  “Friend…” Rourke started. He dropped the now cleaned bone back to the trencher, wiped his mouth and hands on the long cloth before lounging back with a bit of a pointy stick held between his fingers. “'Ere you think to continue this chivalric bone you have stuck to your side over your disagreement with me over her confinement, you will find yourself stationed at Clegg castle as the new bailiff.” Rourke turned his hard gaze on him then. “Do we understand one another?”

  Goran’s answer was a curt nod and he reached out to fill his trencher from the platters on the table. His second-in-command’s temperament did not fare well in Wales. Rourke threw the thin bone back on the table as anger rose in him. He did not want to speak that hellion's name let alone think about her.

  He did not sleep and what little he did manage to get, he was haunted by her face, the softness of her skin, the tilt of those wide amber eyes. The dent in her bottom lip- Ah, hell and damnation, he’d no rest and as long as he didn't, neither would anyone else within Barnett manor. Were he to say her name, he believed, he'd never get her out of his head. With Goran’s continued interference the ornery thorn in his side buried itself deeper and deeper.

  “You cannot keep doing this, Rourke.”

  Goran’s tone was worrisome, like a hammer in Rourke’s skull. As he’d known, his friend never gave up easily and Rourke had expected no less. He knew just how displeased Goran was with this latest upset and Goran knew just how far to push before he gave up. And always had.

  Still Rourke ignored him. In less than an hour’s time the serfs would be filling the hall with the day’s reports and any complaints. ‘Twas midday and still the bleeding headache he had woken with plagued him.

  Rourke was in a vortex of fury, like he’d never experienced before and he could not collect his wandering wits.

  Goran’s voice grated on him again. “She will never forgive you nor learn to trust any of us if you continue this…in this way.”

  “What? Think you I care what she thinks?” Rourke’s voice increased with each word.

  Goran tried another approach. “You have not given her time to grieve her sister.”

  This time Rourke spoke, coolly, but still did not look at his friend. “She can mourn rightfully in black while imprisoned. On the other matter, I’m done with her. The wedding night was enough to see her with child. If not, then it will be seen to again at that time.”

  Rourke thought silently, almost bitterly. He would cut off his right arm first before he entered that chamber again. If the hellion got her menses, then he would take it back to task. But not until then.

  “But Rourke, this is all new to her. You are-“Goran cleared his throat at the visible stiffening of his lord’s broad shoulders. “’Tis not as if you are the most subtle about things. Especially with those- irons.”

  Rourke looked at him again, pinning him with a feral glare. He need not be reminded of her making him so mad, that he had pulled out those irons. Regret twanged in him still. Her passion was as fiery as her relentless defiance and he had let her get under his skin. What a fool he’d been!

  Never would he let his guard down again with her. He simply would keep her locked away forever. Forever a prisoner.

  Rourke rubbed absently over the space above his heart as his thoughts tormented him.

  “One more word, Goran…” he hissed, adding, “Just do as I ordered and report to me anything out of the ordinary and naught else.”

  Goran turned from that familiar warning look and waved a hand to a waiting sentry that had just entered. The sentry nodded and turned away. Goran shook his head and added as he moved to stand. “Very well then. But she’s not Lady Jacqueline is all I’m saying.”

  Rourke was out of his chair and had Goran by the neck of his tunic in seconds with his friend’s feet nearly off the ground. “Say her name again and I’ll beat you black and blue.” Rourke’s breath came hard.

  Goran held his ground. “Aye, you can indeed. Still, does not change the truth of my words. Not all women are her. You have to see that or you will never find peace, my friend.” Goran’s last were full of emotion.

  Rourke dropped his hand. He did not care to think on it anymore. He was grateful when the sentry returned with a wary look on his face and a villager at his side. Rourke beckoned the two forward, wanting to get this over with quickly, as the rest of those who wished to be heard by the Dark
Axe of the Manor, lined up behind them in the hall.

  Alexa was only aware of the passing of time through Camm, otherwise she’d have no other way of knowing. It had been three days since Rourke had come into the chamber. From what little she gleaned from her maid, the manor was showing major changes under his presence. At first she had been angry, for Camm spoke with pride in the retelling of it. But Alexa knew it was just her own wounded pride as the true cause. As much as she loathed admitting, it sounded as if he was changing things for the better. All her people had fallen so fast and easily under his spell in such a short time, despite the fact that their mistress lay locked away above stairs. The rumor from Camm came that if she tried anything more, he’d lock her away in the only tower of the manor. The man would not have said it if it were not truth. The tower had not been used by her parents and was in need of great repair. No one ventured near it out of the fear of superstitions of many years gone past.

  Alexa never heard the door to her room across the hall shut in the eve. She heard it open and shut early come dawn, but never again after that. ‘Twas the only time noise came from the chamber she had once shared with him. Camm said nothing of where Rourke was spending his nights, nor did Alexa give in to the antsy and terrible emotion that plagued her and ask her about it.

  She had three days to think of her plight and she had come to a decision.

  What had happened to her was happening across all of England. She would not take a knife to her own throat to end her misery nor to escape this marriage. Nay. She may as well try and work it through. The man had left her untouched since the other night. For three days. Mayhap he was waiting to see if his seed had taken.

  Well, he was in for a surprise, for just a bit past midday, Camm had left her fresh strips of cloths. She’d started her menses.

  Alexa was shocked that a part of her had been saddened that his seed had not took. She told herself it was simply because if she had gotten with child, he’d not have to take her again. But something pulled at the back of her thoughts that it was a lie.