He held his exasperation. "It wasn't a compliment, just an observation."
"I admit I do raise my voice every now and again," she whispered.
"You're turning the topic, Nicholaa. I want to talk about this unreasonable fear you have of me."
"It isn't unreasonable," she muttered. "And I'm not overly afraid. I'm just a cautious sort, that's all."
"Caution is all good and well, wife, but you needn't be cautious around me. No matter how often you provoke me, I'll never hurt you."
"You hurt my feelings when you ignore me."
"That's different."
She let out a sigh. "I don't see how."
"Tell me what happened the day we were attacked."
"I interfered."
"I know you interfered. I want to know why."
"I shouldn't tell you," she whispered. "But I want to tell you. I don't know what to do. You're going to be furious with Thurston. Please don't hate my brother. He didn't realize he was trying to kill you. I mean to say, he probably meant to fell you, but he couldn't have known you were my husband."
"Nicholaa, will you try to make sense?" he ordered. "Thurston is still alive? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Oh, God, how did you guess?"
"Your brother's in league with the resistors against William."
His cunning amazed her. "How did you guess that?" she asked him.
He didn't remind her that she'd just told him. "And Thurston is Ulric's father, isn't that right?"
"Yes," she cried out. "But you won't remember whom the baby belongs to in the morning, Royce. Promise me."
He was suddenly furious with her. "Do you actually believe I'd hurt the baby just because his father is my enemy?"
She snuggled up against his shoulder. "No, you wouldn't hurt him, but you might use him to get Thurston. My brother was leading the soldiers who attacked us, Royce. I saw him."
"Damn it all, Nicholaa, I would never use Ulric in such a way. How could you think…"
He quit protesting when he realized he'd already done just that by using the baby to force Nicholaa to leave her sanctuary. It was only logical for her to assume he'd use Ulric again.
His anger evaporated. His mind was reeling with the information she'd given him. "Nicholaa? Did you see your brother before or after you took the arrow in your shoulder?"
She put her arms around his neck. Her fingers began to toy with his hair. He stopped that distraction by pulling her hands away. "Answer me," he commanded.
She let out a sigh. "It was Thurston's arrow that hit me," she said. "You were his target"
His smile was tender. "That's why you screamed, isn't it?"
"I was afraid for you," she said. She kissed his chin, then fell back against him. "You can't blame my brother. He didn't know I was there. He loves me, Royce. He would never intentionally hurt me."
It all fell into place now. Thurston must have realized what he'd done after he dispatched the arrow. Nicholaa's white-blond hair must have been visible to the Saxon warrior. Royce remembered the anguished bellow that came from the crest and mingled with his own outraged roar. Aye, Thurston knew what he'd done. That was the reason he'd ordered the retreat.
God help Nicholaa. She'd had a hell of a time since she'd met him. He kissed the top of her head and then stood up, cushioning her in his arms.
"Do you doubt that Thurston loves me?" she asked.
"No, I don't doubt his love," he answered. "I do doubt his eyesight," he added in a mutter. "He damn well should have-"
"Thurston has wonderful eyesight," she announced. "I've better, though. Do you know I can hit any target with my sling?"
She reached up and touched the small jagged scar on his forehead. "That's exactly where I meant to hit you, husband."
He couldn't help noticing how cheerful she sounded. "You do not regret injuring your husband?" he asked, his amusement obvious.
"You weren't my husband then," she answered. "I use arrows, too, sometimes." She kissed his chin again, then whispered, "I'm always accurate. The first knight your William sent to seize my holding took one of my arrows home with him."
Royce had just started carrying her up the steps. He stopped and looked down at her. She was looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "You're the one who put the arrow in Gregory's backside?"
Since he wasn't going to remember much of anything in the morning, she felt it was safe to boast. "Just below his backside, in his thigh. It was just a flesh wound, Royce, meant to stop him from taking my home."
He shook his head. "I thought you said your brother's second-in-command was in charge of the defense. Are you telling me you lied about that, too?"
"No, John was in charge some of the time."
"But you interfered?"
"Just a little." She slumped back against his shoulder. "You smell nice, Royce."
She'd obviously forgotten she'd already said that. He continued on up the steps and walked down the long corridor past her own chamber and on to his own.
His squire, a dark-haired lad named Trevor, waited inside to assist his lord. Royce dismissed the boy with a quick motion of his head, then shut the door behind him.
A fire blazed on the hearth. The room was as warm, as inviting, as the woman cuddled up in his arms. Royce walked over to the bed and sat down with Nicholaa in his lap.
He thought she'd fallen asleep until she said, "Have you noticed how sweet-tempered I've been this evening?"
Her voice was a sleepy whisper. "I noticed," he said.
"Mama used to say you can catch more vermin with sweet than with sour."
That statement baffled him. "Why in God's name would you want to?"
"Want to what?"
"Catch vermin."
"I don't want to catch vermin," she muttered. "I want to catch you." Lord, how she wished her husband would quit tossing her about in his arms. She grabbed hold of his shoulders to steady herself. Her head was spinning, and her stomach was fighting waves of nausea.
"Nicholaa?" he said. "About this plan of yours…"
"What plan?"
He gave up. He continued to hold her until he was certain she'd fallen asleep. Then he set about the task of undressing her.
He couldn't stay irritated with her. She was a master with her games of manipulation, but he understood her motives now. She was trying to hold her family together, any way she could. Aye, she was trying to survive.
It was going to take her time to learn to trust him completely, he knew, and then perhaps they would be able to settle down to a peaceful life together. He wanted her to be happy. He didn't know how he was going to achieve that goal, though, until the problem with Thurston was solved. Hell, he might have to kill the bastard. That certainly wouldn't win Nicholaa's heart.
Royce felt that he was in an impossible position
But then, so was Nicholaa. She was desperately trying to protect her brother from him and, at the same time, protect him from her brother.
There was much to consider before he formed his plans, he decided. Nicholaa wore only her chemise now, and he was about to pull the covers up over her when he changed his mind. He slowly reached for the silk ribbon that held her chemise in place. His hands shook when he touched her bare skin.
Lord, she was exquisitely formed. Her breasts were full, her waist incredibly narrow, and the gentle flair of her hips couldn't have been more pleasing to him.
He stripped off his own clothes. Then be stretched out next to his wife. If she didn't touch him, he might be able to stand the torment of having her warm body so close.
It took Royce a long while to fall asleep. All of Nicholaa's worries filtered through his mind.
And then his mind returned to the one remark she'd made so matter-of-factly that he knew it was true.
She wanted to seduce him.
A man couldn't ask for more than that.