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Authors: Delilah Devlin,Myla Jackson

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BOOK: Jacq's Warlord
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He moaned against her mouth and his arms closed around her.

She darted her tongue inside his mouth to touch the tip of his. Standing on tiptoe she reached around him, pulling his body against hers as she pressed her breasts to his chest and deepened the kiss.

Jacq kissed him hungrily, knowing her reason for wanting to stay with him was she would miss him. He was the only man who had ever made feel one hundred percent female. It was scintillating and aggravating at the same time, and she didn’t want to give it up. Not yet.

“Ahem…Lord Rathburn?” Donald’s voice intruded. “Rufus!”

Rufus pulled back, his arms still around her and his gaze still on her face. “Is the enemy near, Donald?”

“No, my lord.”

“Is there a fire?” Rufus ran a finger down the side of Jacq’s cheek sending a quiver of desire racing through her body.

“No, my lord.”

“Then what could possibly be so important you would dare interrupt me at a time like this?”

“I beg your pardon, but you told me to inform you when we were ready to depart.”

“And are we?” Rufus smiled down at her.

Jacq gave him a saucy grin.

“Yes, my lord,” Donald replied.

“I will be a moment.”

“I can see that, milord. I take it she took the news well?”

“No, and we have not yet finished arguing.”

“Sorry. Well then, I will just leave you to your…uh… argument.”

Looking up into Rufus’ eyes, Jacq could see the warmth of his desire, and his regret they didn’t have time to assuage it.

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She sighed. Those were pretty much her thoughts as well. She was becoming a lusty wench!

Rufus gave her one last fierce kiss, before spinning her around and giving a playful slap to her bottom. “Let us go home.”

Home. Jacq felt a strong tug in her heart. Here was a man she could easily fall in love with. But he hadn’t spoken any words of love or commitment. By admitting he didn’t know what to do with her, he’d proven he wasn’t ready to make any promises.

And what exactly did she want from him? Certainly more great sex. But beyond that, her best answer should be nothing. As it stood, nothing bound her to this place.

She was free to go as soon as she could find her way back to her own time where she belonged.

That last thought left her feeling empty. She wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted a choice. Go or stay? When she’d first arrived, she thought the only place she could be happy was back in Georgia and her father. Now, she was afraid she’d leave half of her heart behind when she left.

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Chapter Thirteen

Her first sight of Rathburn took her breath away. The sun hung low on the horizon as they rode out of the woods into an open field. Before them, perched on a hill, was the ruggedly beautiful fortress. Clouds, stained a brilliant shade of magenta by the last rays of vanishing light, lent a soft pink glow to the gray stone curtain wall crowning the hilltop.

Jacq’s heart thumped as excitement built inside her. She’d seen many crumbling castles during her father’s tour of duty in Europe, but to see one before the ravages of time had made their mark thrilled the academician in her. Her gaze avidly soaked up the tall crenellated towers standing at each corner of the wall.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered in awe, forgetting for the moment her resentment toward this place.

Eager now to see the rest of this medieval marvel, she urged her horse into a gallop.

Before she was halfway across the field, the sound of hooves pounding the ground behind her reminded her to rein in her horse as well as her enthusiasm.

Rufus drew his mount alongside hers. “What do you think of my home?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen it yet.” She was being peevish, but she couldn’t help refusing him a glimpse of her wonder.

“Then it wasn’t eagerness to see your new home that had you pushing your poor, tired horse into a gallop?”

“No, it was eagerness to see the last of this saddle,” she replied pertly, sliding him a sideways glance.

His gaze was trained on the hilltop, and Jacq was taken aback by the look of love and pride that suffused his face.

She heard shouts from above and glanced back toward the wall. Men were lined along the battlements, waving and shouting greetings.

Rufus spurred his horse forward, apparently unconcerned for the fatigue of his own mount.

“Raise the portcullis.” She heard the shout from within the wall a moment before the metal-shod grille rose to allow their passage through the gate.

Jacq and Rufus led the procession along the stone-paved path into the bailey where people spilled from the buildings to fill the courtyard with their glad cries.

When the last of the wagons at the rear of Rufus’ entourage passed beneath the portcullis and drew to a halt, people swarmed toward the new arrivals, eager to lend a hand to lead away a horse or offload a wagon. Jacq drew a number of curious stares, but guessed her position beside Rufus kept the people from mobbing her as well.

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She sniffed at the air. The blending of scents was like no other she had ever experienced. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was…pungent. The main flavors were manure and metal. The source of the metallic odor had to be a smith’s shop somewhere among the many outbuildings lining the walls around the bailey. The other more earthy smell was the by-product of the domesticated animals she had seen…geese, milk cows, and of course, the horses.

Rufus swung down from his saddle, and then turned to help Jacq, his hands lingering a little longer on her waist than was necessary once she had her land legs beneath her.

“Do all these people live here?” she asked.

“Here and in the village of Rathburn.”

At her questioning look, he explained, “The village is on the side opposite our approach to the castle. Many of the people who work here come through the postern gate at the back wall.”

She nodded her understanding, then ignoring the noisy throng around her, she stared up at the keep. It was massive, rising three stories high, and made of the same gray stone as the outer wall. Carved stone steps led to a heavy oak door on the second level.

An arm circled her waist and Jacq halfheartedly resisted Rufus, allowing herself to be drawn to his side. Together, they climbed several steps before Rufus halted. He directed her to face the people quieting even before he spoke.

Jacq looked out over the many faces turned expectantly to hear what their lord would say. They were a mixed group. Young, old…dressed alike in roughly spun, woolen clothing. For the most part they appeared relatively clean and well fed.

That is, except for one young urchin…a girl who pushed her way past the adults to find a better vantage point in the front of the crowd. Children were alike, no matter the century. Jacq wondered at how any parent could let a child become so grime-encrusted.

“It is good to be home,” Rufus’ voice boomed loudly across the courtyard. “I only wish that I could have brought all of my warriors home safe with me.”

The faces before her were saddened. Many crossed themselves. A few murmured,

“God rest their souls.”

“I’ll ask Father Haskell to hold mass this eve to pray for the brave men we lost,”

Rufus continued. “As it is, my men and I will leave at first light to meet up with Duke Henry’s army.”

Loud sounds of disappointment rose from the crowd at his statement.

“We are only stopping for provisions and to leave the wagons.” Then he turned toward Jacq and held out his hand to her. “I have one other purpose in stopping here.

People of Rathburn, I would have you meet Lady Jacq.”

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Jacq could hear her name being repeated questioningly. They were probably just as baffled by a woman with a man’s name as Rufus had been when they first met. She also heard muffled comments about her size.

Rufus continued, “She will be our honored guest here at Rathburn. I would have you good people accord her the respect due a lady and the chatelaine of my keep.

Honor her wishes.”

Jacq gasped. She hadn’t doubted he would give her the duties to oversee the maintenance of the keep, but he mentioned no word of her confinement. He had kept to his bargain and more. Could she give him the promise he desired?

“While I am away, Lady Jacq and Sir Geoffrey speak for me. Now, I am ready for a bath and supper. Let us celebrate our brief return. Be sure to offload the foodstuffs from the wagons—we dine on Lord Braxton’s largesse tonight!”

A cheer arose and the castlefolk scurried in different directions to care for the soldiers’ animals and prepare a feast for the celebration.

With a hand on her elbow, Rufus led Jacq up the steps of the keep to the large wooden door. A servant hurried to push the door inward. But when the air from within rushed out in a gust, Jacq nearly gagged.

Rufus’ face creased in a frown. “It is a bit ripe. After all these days in the out-of-doors, the difference is notable.” His words were a study in understatement.

Jacq’s eyes watered as she tried to gain control of her heaving stomach. Clamping a hand to her nose, she proceeded cautiously inside, looking around to determine the source of the awful stench.

She entered a large, open room. The ceiling was high, and windows located next near the top of the wall let the waning sunlight in to illuminate the room. Jacq continued inside, holding her skirts up off the floor, which was littered with decaying weeds. Jacq looked more closely and saw animal droppings amid the rushes. The likely offenders, several plump dogs, bounded at them, alternately whining and scratching at their fleas.

Long, thick plank tables and benches lined up like a twenty-first-century school cafeteria, were encrusted with layers of unidentifiable filth. Nearer the tables, the floor was littered with bits of splintered animal bones, remnants from meals long past.

Jacq glanced at Rufus accusingly. How could he let his home get into such a state?

Reading her disgust, he shrugged unabashed. “It’s been a long time since the keep has known a lady’s finer skills.”

She rolled her eyes. She couldn’t eat a meal in this room until the vermin crawling in the weeds beneath her feet were removed.

“I’m in charge?” She challenged him, hands on her hips.

“Yes, madam. My people will follow your commands.”

“Since I don’t yet know my way around here, would you have several servants sent to me?”

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“As you wish. And I will see that the men are making their preparations for tomorrow’s journey.” He hurried from the room.

Coward
! Jacq rolled up her sleeves.

* * * * *

“Well, milady, the place fairly sparkles, it does.” Enid, an older woman who was the wife to Sir Geoffrey, Rufus’ man in charge of the castle defenses, wiped her sleeve across her forehead.

“There’s still a lot to do to get this place habitable, but at least we’ll be able to smell the food we eat, instead of what’s on the floors.”

A snort sounded from behind and Gwen joined them. “’Tis already well past dark.

The men will be howling for their supper.”

Jacq could have been knocked over when the laundress had appeared among the women who came to clean the hall. She knew Gwen must be every bit as weary as she was from their long journey, but she’d pitched in without complaint.

Gwen had given her a wry look and said, “I have to eat too.”

Jacq dismissed her workers and looked around her in satisfaction. Yes, she had a lot more to do, but the floors had been swept clean, the dogs removed from the hall and the tables scrubbed and oiled until they shone.

“It smells much sweeter in here.” Rufus’ arms circled her from behind.

“Oooh! Let me go.” She slapped at his hands. “I smell like those filthy rushes we removed from the floor.”

He turned her in his arms, and bent to sniff her neck before placing a playful nip there. When he straightened, his nose was wrinkled. “Aye, my horse smells better than you do.”

She loved it when he played with her. Pretending outrage, she struggled and he let her go, laughing.

“I know I reek.” She scratched her head, and hoped she hadn’t gained a flea from one of the dogs she’d wrestled out the doors. “Did you mention something about a bath? I am so looking forward to one. And what are the possibilities of getting a comb and a fresh change of clothing?”

“I didn’t mention anything about a bath, and as late as it grows there is really only one solution. Come with me.”

He grabbed her hand and led her out of the keep, stopping once to give instructions regarding clothing for them both to a woman making her way to the hall.

Jacq barely had time to catch her breath before they were off again. His destination was a long building set against the rear curtain wall. The door was open, and Jacq knew it was the kitchen from the wonderful aromas and the heat that met them when they stepped inside.

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“Milord!” a woman cried, and rushed forward to drop a quick curtsy. “The feast is nearly ready. How may I be of service to you?”

“Agnes, I know you are busy here, but the lady has great need of a bath before we dine.”

Jacq reached for Rufus’ bottom and pinched him hard. She didn’t like the way he had emphasized “great need”. She sniffed at herself. She wasn’t that bad, was she?

Agnes looked relieved, and a smile wreathed her broad face. “Not a bother, milord.

I’ll have hot water carried up to the keep now.”

“That won’t be necessary, Agnes. I think she is as hungry as she is desperate to bathe. If we could just have use of the tub here it will save time.”

Jacq looked around the kitchen and hoped she wasn’t expected to strip to her birthday suit in front of all the people busy preparing the meal. She was about to tell Rufus she’d be happy with just a bucket of water to take away with her.

Agnes looked over her shoulder. “Richard, bring the tub in and hang the curtain to give the lady some privacy.”

BOOK: Jacq's Warlord
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