So much for subtlety, she thought to herself. 'Yes.'
As soon as she saw him coming toward her, she closed her eyes. Royce sat down on the side of the bed. He leaned down and kissed her brow. She told him thank you. He kissed the bridge of her nose. She said thank you again.
Her face looked as if it had been burned by the sun. He knew she was embarrassed, but didn't have the faintest idea why. He was too pleased that she wanted his touch to dwell on her daft behavior.
'Traditions are v-very important to m-me,' she stammered. 'Now that you're my husband, they have to be important to you, too.'
That statement gave him pause. 'They do?'
'Yes,' she answered. She opened her eyes to look up at him. 'It's not that I want you to kiss me. It's just that-'
She quit trying to explain when his mouth settled on hers. He stole her concentration completely. His mouth was so wonderfully warm. His fingers threaded through her hair to hold her captive, although that wasn't really necessary; she didn't want to move. The kiss was gentle, undemanding. It left her breathless. And wanting.
Royce pulled back just a little. 'Open your mouth for me, Nicholaa,' he whispered.
She barely had time to do as he commanded before his mouth took possession again. His tongue swept inside her mouth then, to taste, to stroke, to drive her wild.
He held her still as his mouth slanted over hers again and again. He felt her tremble, and in the back of his mind was the thought that he was probably scaring the hell out of her. She was such an innocent.
Then her tongue touched his and she let out a low, ragged moan. He could feel the passion in her response. Stunned, he damn near lost his control then and there.
He forced himself to pull back. His smile was tender when he saw the result of his touch. Her lips were swollen, rosy, and she wore the most astonished expression.
He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip.
'I don't believe my father ever kissed my mother quite like that,' she whispered.
There was a definite sparkle in her eyes. He realized she was teasing him. He responded in kind. 'With all those children? I think he did.'
He bent down and kissed her again, a quick no-nonsense kiss without a hint of passion in it. She couldn't hide her disappointment when he stood up. 'Now go to sleep, Nicholaa,' he ordered. 'The tradition has been continued.'
She didn't say thank you. She sighed instead. Nicholaa was sound asleep before Royce reached the door.
Two fresh guards had just arrived to replace the pair in the hallway. All four soldiers were seasoned knights under Royce's command. One soldier held a goblet filled with the sleeping draft the healer had just delivered. Royce ordered the soldier to throw it away. He then commanded another guard to tell Lawrence he needed to speak to him.
The second-in-command arrived a few minutes later. Royce still hadn't dismissed the soldiers from their watch. He leaned against the door and quickly explained the situation. When he was finished, he gave his orders.
By Royce's command, the leader of the king's guard was to be alerted of the possible threat immediately, and the number of men on the night watch would be tripled. A clean sweep was to be made of the castle and the grounds. The old woman who'd told Nicholaa to kill him might still be lingering nearby, and Royce wanted her found.
'What about the men who are coming to challenge you at dawn?' Lawrence asked when Royce had finished giving his orders.
'I'll take care of that possible threat,' Royce answered. 'I hold little hope they'll actually show up, though. They used the old woman to give Nicholaa her duty and will now leave her to suffer the consequences on her own. It would be too dangerous for them to try to get to either one of us.' He expelled a long breath. 'God, I hope I'm wrong,' he admitted. 'I would like for them to try. I want a chance to kill the bastards. They frightened my wife.'
Lawrence noticed that his baron seemed more furious over the fact that Nicholaa had been frightened than he did over the possibility that someone was trying to kill him. It was a telling reaction, to the vassal's way of thinking.
After bowing, Lawrence and the other soldiers left to carry out their assignments. Royce stood with his back protecting the door until two of the soldiers returned. He went back inside the chamber when the hallway was once again guarded by his trusted men.
Less than an hour later a knock sounded. Royce had the door open before Lawrence had let his hand drop back to his side.
The vassal moved out of the way so Royce could join him in the corridor. 'We found the old woman,' he announced in a low voice. 'She's dead. Her neck was broken. Someone tossed her body behind a couple of crates. Do we round up all the Saxons in residence and question them?'
Royce shook his head. 'The Saxon barons who have pledged their loyalty to William would be insulted by our distrust. That wouldn't matter to our king, of course, but it wouldn't serve our purposes. If there is a Saxon traitor in league with those who still resist the king, he certainly won't give us any answers. We'll have to find another way to ferret out the bastard.'
Lawrence nodded agreement. 'There are many people here, Baron,' he said. 'I don't recognize a fair number of them. The crowd will make it difficult for us to find the culprit.'
'Damn, I wish we could set a trap now and be done with it,' Royce muttered.
'A trap with you as the bait?' Lawrence asked. 'It would be too difficult to control the outcome, my lord.'
Royce shrugged. 'It could be done,' he countered. 'Still, I won't take the chance. Nicholaa's safety comes first. I'm anxious to get her home. Once I'm certain no one can get to her, I can turn my attention to finding the bastard behind this scheme. This isn't finished, Lawrence. They'll try again. I'm sure of it.'
'When do you wish to leave?'
'Tomorrow, by midday,' Royce answered. 'I'll talk to William in the morning.'
Royce dismissed his vassal and went back inside the chamber. Nicholaa was sleeping soundly. The dark smudges under her eyes were still noticeable, and he wished he could let her stay in London a few more days, until she regained her strength.
There wasn't time, however. He wouldn't rest until he knew she was safe. His gentle wife didn't appear worried, though. She couldn't have slept so peacefully if she had been.
He tucked the covers around her shoulders. Wives were a damn nuisance, he decided. If a husband cared about his wife, the enemy could use her to get to him. They could, in effect, use her as a weapon to destroy him.
If a husband cared, he thought again.
He was desperate to get Nicholaa home to Rosewood where she would be safe. He shook his head. The evidence couldn't be denied. How in God's name had it happened? And so quickly, too? He thought about the week of hell she'd put him through on the journey to London, and had to shake his head again.
And then he grinned. He didn't understand how or why it had happened. Only one thing was certain: he cared.
Chapter Eight
The assassins didn't arrive at dawn.
Royce wasn't surprised. He was disappointed, though.
He let Nicholaa sleep several more hours before finally prodding her awake. She was pleased to hear that no
