CHAPTER 19
The long winter that had lasted through February and now early March seemed to finally begin loosening its hold on the land. In the last few days, the bitterly cold air began to soften a bit, though all still went about in cloaks and capes, and many in black. The village had been quiet with mourning since King Richard's death. I later heard that the crossbowman who had killed him was only a boy and had done so because Richard had killed the boy's father and two brothers in battle in Limousin. Vaisey had gotten the epithet wrong; it came to be said that be that this crossbowman, known by various names, was "the Ant that slew a Lion". Richard's last act of chivalry had been to forgive the boy and set him free with one hundred shillings. Much good it had done him though, as one of Richard's captains had flayed him alive and hanged him after Richard's death.
Guy seemed quite changed since King Richard's death, but then, we all were. I had seen little of him since the announcement, but when I did, he appeared pensive and inward, as opposed to his usual moody self. Perhaps it was the final act of forgiveness by the King that had given him pause; he may have wondered if he too would have been spared, had he been caught in his own attempt on Richard's life. Perhaps it was also the fact that his alliance with John made his position secure in the political world outside of Nottingham.
As for me, I worried what would become of my social class with John's coronation. It was well known that he was a selfish, posturing man who had coveted the crown even before Richard's death. I could not understand Guy's alliance to him, but then, we had not spoken of politics since his journey to France. Most of my social class was in a sort of mourning, even if it was not imposed by the Sheriff who no doubt was dancing on the rooftops with glee. We all feared for the future and I saw even less of Will at the market than before. At least I now knew why.
The next rare day that he was there, I sought him out. He still made a studious effort to avoid me, but I caught him stealing away to chop wood for later transport to the Scarlett house. I followed him a little ways away from the market to where he was hard at work, and watched for a few moments, as he was lovely to view when working. As he took the next swing at the wood, I remarked,
"Goodness, Will, I would think that that birch has King John's name on it."
Will looked up at me and spat to his left. "John is no King, not to me. If anyone's the rightful heir, it's his nephew Arthur, even if he is allied with the French." He returned to his mangling of the wood.
I inhaled. "Will…I would really like to speak with you about something."
"And there are several things I'd really like to speak to you about," Will muttered back, chopping down hard on the birch.
"Well then, speak, please," I said, my hands spread plaintively. "This silence is torture for me."
"Torture? No. You don't now what torture is, Nyssa," Will said almost tenderly. He stopped chopping, looked at the wood, and then abruptly dropped the axe. "Torture is loving someone who doesn't love you back." He looked away from me so that I could not see his eyes, and I fought the instinct to go to him, because I knew it would make him angry.
"I never said that I didn't love you," I responded quietly.
"And you never said that you did," he said, picking the axe back up and starting to chop angrily again. "Obviously," he slammed down the axe, "you don't care for me," (slamming again) "or you would have come back to me. So tell me, Nyssa," (another crack) "what exactly do you want?"
"I want you to stop mangling that poor tree when it's me you want to mangle," I said steadily. "I want you to shout at me if you're angry at me. I want you to communicate with me!"
Will turned, losing his temper. "I'd like to do all of that, and more!" he shouted, dropping the axe and heading towards me. His hazel eyes were an amber rage. He stopped and stood in front of me, face inches from mine, his voice deadly low. "I do want to mangle you for abandoning me, and then I want to bind up your wounds myself. I want break you, and I want to make love to you until you cry my name and lose every memory you have of Gisborne. I want to protect you from anything that would hurt you. And I want you in my bed tonight, and every night for the rest of my life."
I nearly gasped at his outpouring of emotion, when Will was nearly always so mild-mannered and calm. I reached out to touch him, and he abruptly pulled away from me.
"But I won't take charity, Nyssa," he said coldly, turning back towards the wood.
Hurt, I shot back, "That's fortunate, because I don't give charity."
Will whirled around. "Was it charity when Gisborne had you up against the tavern wall?" he snapped.
"Oh, you bastard," I said angrily. "You know he was drunk and not in his own mind!"
"I'm sure you were very disappointed when I arrived to defend your honor," Will said ominously. "To hell with Gisborne! Oh but I forgot, you like men like Gisborne, dangerous men, men who take what they want. They deserve your charity, while I get none. Maybe I'll just take what I want too, then!"
His quickness always took me by surprise. He was so light and lean that he had dropped the axe and pressed me against a nearby tree before I could object. The bark was icy cold on my back in the chill March air, and I squeaked in surprise. Will held my face in his hands, forcing me to look in his eyes. "I know you don't love me," he said. "But I 'm gong to make you love me."
He pressed his lips against mine, in a strong but un-savage kiss, and his fingers tangled in my hair, wrapping against the roots so that there were tingles of sensation on my scalp. I inhaled sharply as he unclasped my cloak and the weather invaded my body, goose bumps erupting everywhere, my nipples erect. Seemingly oblivious, Will pulled my head back by my hair to lengthen my neck, and began kissing his way down it, his lips hot against my now cool skin. I tried to push him away with my hands, but he thrust them aside, not wanting me to touch him. Fine then, I thought. I went limp as a rag doll and turned away from him, seeming to give in. Furious, Will clenched my hair harder in his fingers. He tore his mouth from my throat and whispered,
"Aren't you going to fight me? Where is your famous spirit, Nyssa?"
"I'm not going to fight you, Will," I said softly, "because I love you."
His eyes were angry, disbelieving. "Prove it," he scowled.
I angled my head towards him and kissed his cold, incredulous face, his cheeks, his unyielding lips. His rigidness lasted only for a moment though; Will's hands loosened from my scalp and plunged into my hair, raining punishing kisses on my face. His hand slipped down to grip my shoulder under the fabric of my dress as he had before, and possessively caress the skin there. "God I want you so much," he murmured, his voice low and serious. "I want to make you forget anyone but me." His lips travelled down my neck, and his hand slid boldly into the front of my bodice to cup one of my breasts, teasing the nipple until I gasped. "Did he do this to you?" Will said roughly, his breath scorching my ear, his touch infinitely gentle.
"Yessss…" I whispered, not wanting him to stop.
"And here?" He cupped my other breast, kneading fiercely.
"Oh! Yes."
"And here?" With the most loving skill, he pulled my skirts up, and pressed himself against me so I felt his hardness. "Did he do this too?" His eyes burned, demanding an answer.
"Yes."
"And this?" Will breathed heavily, and I felt him make a small move to slip out of the top of his breeches. Trembling from excitement, I felt him place the length of his manhood against my sex and felt the soft touch of the tip. He nudged forward, teasing us both, allowing his hardness to graze my entrance. I inhaled sharply. "This too?"
I turned and held his gaze. "No."
"No?" Will's look of surprise cut me to the core, and he immediately stopped himself, almost looking ashamed. Flushing deeply, he let go of me and readjusted his body and clothing to a more appropriate position. His look was curious, skeptical.
"Sir Guy…he didn't bed you?"
"No, he did not," I answered honestly. "I asked him to stop. He honored my request. I told him I would carry his child but only if we married and only if I would remain a respected, honorable tradeswoman."
If Will had looked ashamed before, he now looked positively mollified. He couldn't meet my eyes for a few seconds, before he swallowed, a click in his throat. "I'm sorry, Nyssa," he said. Then he looked back up at me, hazel eyes imploring. "I'm so sorry, lovely. I completely misjudged you and the situation. I was mad with jealousy when you left. I…thought you had gone to him."
He stepped back from me, and quickly picked up my cloak to wrap it around my shoulders, and then me in his arms as well. "Will, it's all right," I said. "It's a natural assumption to make. I should have told you. I just needed time…and I was afraid," I finished, lamely. I hated admitting this to him, but I knew I must. "And yes, I'm sorry, but danger is exciting to me. I'm not sorry, actually. You adore swordplay, so I'm not apologizing to you for my love of danger. I don't mind being slammed against a wall or a tree, now and again." My chin raised, I dared him to argue with me over this, but he abruptly broke into a gale of laughter.
"Nyssa, you must be the most cracked woman I know," Will said, still laughing. Then: "I suppose that's why I can't stay away from you." He leaned over and kissed me quickly, a sweet, tender kiss that had nothing to take or prove. As he did, I caressed his cheek with my finger. I felt him tense a bit, then quip,
"I'm waiting for you to stomp on my foot. You could have done that, you know."
"And does it mean anything to you that I didn't? " I asked him cheekily.
"I'm afraid to hope," Will said, cautious. "Does this mean you'll come for your sword and lessons after all?"
"Yes, I will come," I said. "And I have a favor to ask of you as well."
"I'll think about whatever it is if you kiss me again," he said softly, regarding me with that disquieting intensity.
I smirked at him. "You know, you and Gisborne have more in common than you think. Always trying to get the upper hand."
"As long as I've fooled you into thinking that I do have the upper hand, I'm happy with the result," he said. "But I'm still waiting for that kiss." He raised an eyebrow at me and stepped forward, his long hair falling over his brow. His eyes were kind, gentle, and full of love for me. I hesitated for a moment, then wrapped him in my embrace and kissed him, really kissed him, without my usual reserve and habit of holding back. Will felt it too, and pulled me into a tighter embrace than he ever had, almost making me squeal for breath as he tenderly explored my mouth, and held me close to him. After a few minutes, he gently broke away from me and smiled again. "Why couldn't we have started this way?" he asked me. "Oh, yes. I remember. You almost opened my throat the first time I said hello."
"The first time you compared me to a dead woman, you mean," I said teasingly. "It's not the ideal way to win a woman's heart, Will."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that I've done so badly," Will replied, grinning. The cheek on him, I thought. It would have been irritating had he been any less charming. "So what is this favor you need?" he asked.
"Please hear me out before you get angry, because it does involve Gisborne."
The smile fell away from Will's face. "I see."
"It's not what you think," I said quickly. "He sent me a letter apologizing for his behavior towards me. I actually think it was sincere, Will. And he asked me to meet with him at Gisborne Manor, and that I should bring a chaperone, if I wished." I took another breath. "I want you to come with me."
Emotions stormed across Will's face in a battle of determination. "So you are asking me to defend your honor a second time while you have a private meeting with your former fiancé," Will said slowly, as he made a concerted effort to stay calm.
"Yes."
He sighed deeply, saying nothing for a moment. Then he turned back to me, a slow, fiendish smile crossing his face. "Then I say yes. But Nyssa…surely you don't imagine he simply wants to have you in for a chat."
"I really don't know what he wants," I said evenly, "but I do know that if I don't go, he will keep harassing me until I do. That is his way. So I would like to hear whatever it is that he has to say and to have you at my side when I do."
"So I am your chaperone?"
"No," I answered. "You are my Will."
