Page 69 of My Warrior
Cambria’s bones turned to jelly. She didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare speak. She didn’t dare lift her eyes. Satan’s ballocks, she’d been fighting the king!
It all made sense now. No wonder the man’s companions were nearly apoplectic with concern. Everything she’d heard about the ruthless English monarch came rushing into her head. Bloody hell, she wondered if she’d live out the day. She racked her brain. What had she said to him? What blunt opinions had she offered to the king of England? Screwing up her courage, she peeked at him from beneath worried brows.
Edward, watching her cower like a kicked hound, fell into robust gales of laughter. “Perhaps I shall forgiveyou, Holden, for interrupting my play! I’ve not been so entertained in a long while!”
As she knelt before the king, her heart rattling rapidly in her chest, the pressure of Holden’s hand lessened slightly, and he shook his head in wonder.
“My wife is gone from me for only a moment, and I arrive to find my lady and my liege engaged in mortal combat,” he said in mock disgust, “and now you tell me it’s play!”
The golden king chuckled. “You were right, de Ware. Your lady is a rare gem. I wholly approve of your choice.”
Holden bowed. “My thanks, Your Majesty.”
“Although, if I were you,” Edward said with a twinkle in his eye, “I think I’d prefer a little more honey and a little less mustard with my game!”
Holden smiled at the king’s pun. “Ah, but you’re a gentleman, Majesty. I’m a soldier. I’ve always loved a good battle.”
“Was it one of your ‘battles’ then that cost your lady her gown?” the king said slyly.
At his reminder, Cambria reached behind her to hold the edges of the torn garment together. Edward bid her rise with a gesture, and then winked conspiratorially at Holden. “Do learn to untie the laces, de Ware, or you’ll deplete your wealth purchasing new gowns.”
Holden managed to chuckle politely at the jest, but his mind was fixed on the disobedient vixen rising to her feet before him. He was furious with Cambria, despite the fact that the soft scent of her hair beneath his chin was driving him to distraction.
When the king dismissed them, Cambria curtseyed demurely, returned the borrowed sword, and then retrieved her cloak, leaving the forest without a backward glance.
Holden caught up with her moments later in his pavilion, throwing back the flap with a vengeance. He startled her, and Cambria, clad only in a sleeveless linen shift, clutched her torn kirtle protectively to her chest. In two long strides, he closed the space between them. His fingers clenched and bit into her bare upper arm, and she winced in surprise.
“I don’t want to see you raise your sword against anyone again, do you hear me?” he snapped.
She tore her arm from his grasp. “Youwouldn’thave seen me had you kept to your own affairs.”
“Youaremy affair!” he shouted. “We are wed, madam.”
He rubbed his brow in frustration and began to pace like a cornered wolf. “I can’t believe you dared confront the king.”
“I didn’t know he was the king.” She shrugged. “He seemed like any other man.”
Cambria’s own words gave her pause. She realized the truth of them. Edward wasn’t the monster she’d once imagined, the demon Robbie would have had her believe. He was a mere mortal, a simple man clothed in the robes of royalty. She wondered why the Scots were so opposed to the leadership of this young, fair-haired, laughing sovereign.
“Had you let your loyalties be known,” Holden assured her, “you would have found he’snotlike other men. He has limitless power.” A shudder betrayed his emotions. “He could have had you executed on the spot!”
“Ididtell him of my loyalties,” she said, unable to understand Holden’s concern. The golden knight seemed harmless enough, and he seemed to like her.
“You told Edward…” Holden sunk dismally into his chair, his eyes flat and his mouth agape.
“I didn’t know who he was,” she explained with another shrug.
“Perhaps that’s best,” he said weakly. “If you’d known, you probably would have run him through.”
“Run him through? Do you truly believe I have no honor? It was a friendly match.”
Holden swallowed uncomfortably as he visualized again the heart-stopping duel in the woods. “Your honor certainly would have been in question had you injured the king or—or slain him,” he said hoarsely.
But that wasn’t his real fear. He wasn’t worried in the least about the king. He’d seen the fight. Edward had easily blocked her blows, merely provoked Cambria into attacking him. The king’s guard would have intervened had she so much as sliced a thread from his surcoat. But Cambria was so reckless and aggressive and impetuous that Edward might have harmed her unintentionally. She might have slipped onto his blade. Lord, he didn’t want to think about it.
“Slay him? I wouldn’t even wound anyone in a friendly battle,” Cambria stated, clearly offended. “Not even an Englishman.”
He looked at her for a long while, wavering in indecision, and then sighed resignedly. “Promise me you won’t raise your sword against Edward again, even in sport. I don’t believe my heard could endure it.”
