Page 21 of A Knight for Gwenllian

She spotted a branch on the ground a few yards to her right. It looked heavy enough to inflict damage, but light enough for her to actually wield. Perfect. If the man liked hitting people with pieces of wood, he should be given the opportunity to see what it really felt like. The only problem was, if she struggled and revealed her real thoughts, she would never get the opportunity to actually seize the branch.

For her to be able to do what she planned to do, she needed the man to let go of her. Which meant she needed to earn his trust.

“Well, there’s no need to be so rough if a tumble is all you’re after,” she said in her best cajoling voice, softening in his arms.

The hold around her middle slackened somewhat. She could tell she had surprised the man.

Taking advantage of his reaction, Gwenllian smiled. She wasn’t sure it didn’t look like a grimace of disgust, but it was the best she could do at the moment.

“I mean… It could be a first for both of us. You’ve never had a lady, but I’ve never had a commoner, and I confess I’m curious. I’m thinking they might prove more vigorous than those pathetic knights who keep their strength for the battlefield and barely exert any energy in a woman’s bed.”

Who would have thought that the encounter with Lady Isabeau would prove so useful? She would never have thought of saying such a thing had the lady not complimented Peter, the groom, on his vigor. For a few heartbeats, nothing happened. Gwenllian started to worry. Had she gone too far? Would the man not think her supposed eagerness suspicious?

Apparently not, because a spark lit up in his eyes.

“Oh, I am vigorous enough for two. Very well, my lady, you can have your commoner if that’s what you’re after.”

He let go of her waist to raise her chin with a crooked finger. As this was exactly what she needed him to do, she forced herself not to recoil at the touch.

“Will you indulge me, then?” she cooed, taking a step toward the branch, tilting her head as if assessing his willingness and ability to give her what she wanted. She could not believe it had been so easy to have him release her, but she was not out of trouble yet. She had to keep him talking until she could reach her improvised weapon and then strike before he stopped her.

“I’ll do whatever you require of me and more,” he said, taking a step toward her.

This declaration gave her the excuse to back away even more, making it look as if she were teasing him. The branch was now at her feet. How was she going to do this? She needed to take him by surprise. If he saw her bend down to grab the piece of wood, he would understand what she was about to do and stop her.

“I do not doubt you’ll satisfy me,” she said, forcing herself to look straight at him. He might have been a handsome man if the light in his eyes had not betrayed his despicable nature. “And, in truth, there is something I’ve always wanted to try.”

“Tell me more.”

“I want to get on my hands and knees,” Gwenllian said, her voice as husky as she could make it. She needed a reason to lower herself to the ground, and this was the only one she could think of. “I will admit that, shocking as it is, I’ve always dreamed of being mounted thus. However, noblemen seem to think that we ladies are delicate creatures incapable of withstanding such primal assaults. Don’t tell me you’re guilty of the same misconception?”

The man laughed. “Oh, my lady, if you want to know what it’s like to be mounted by a real man, I am more than capable of showing you. Worry not, I will be as primal as you need.”

Without further ado, he started to fumble with his hose. This was it. While he was distracted, Gwenllian crouched down next to the branch. Thanks to her shocking declaration, he didn’t think anything of the move. As far as he was concerned, she was simply getting into position. Taking a deep inhale, she seized the branch.

Everything happened with beautiful, horrifying fluidity.

She raised herself back up, swinging her arm in a graceful arc. The end of the branch, thick and knotted, connected with the man’s temple with a sickening thud. The light disappeared from his eyes, and his jaw went slack. He dropped to his knees, then to his front, and lay there not moving, his pale buttocks exposed. Gwenllian might have laughed at the ludicrous sight if she hadn’t been so horrified by what she’d had to do to save herself.

Once she was certain the man was out of action, she ran back to the riverside and found Alexander on the ground, immobile, just as she’d feared. This was a grim parody of what had happened the day they had met—in reverse. How long had it been since the man had struck him? Surely this was not normal? Just as she started to panic, fearful he might have died, she saw him move. Life flowed back through her veins. He wasn’t dead, even if the blow had been severe.

She scooped some water from the stream to her left and splashed his face, hoping to revive him that way.

“Alexander,” she called, “wake up, you need to wake up now!”

He spluttered, cursed under his breath and tried to sit up, then fell back on the grass, panting, his eyes still closed. Relieved by this normal reaction, Gwenllian allowed him a moment to recover on his own.

“Isobel, our… Our son, he hit the man on the head,” the old man kept repeating behind her. “I don’t understand why. He hit him on the head with a branch. He just hit him on the head. I don’t know why he would do something like that.”

Oh, but she did know. She had a mind to grab Alexander’s sword and go cut him into ribbons. That way he would never again take advantage of his father’s confusion and innocent passersby.

“I know,” she soothed, relieved to see Alexander finally coming to, grimacing and wincing. He was definitely not dead, but he would be in a lot of pain, courtesy of the blow he had received. “But everything will be fine.”

As she spoke the words, she hoped that would be the case.

“My head,” Alexander groaned, sitting up at last. “What happe⁠—”

Before he finished the question, he jumped back to his feet, memory evidently returning.