Conquered (Thrice Blessed Book 1) Read online

  She stopped, her eyes meeting his. Sparks of fire jumped out at him, and he couldn’t resist smiling. Her spirit would be a challenge. He reached out and took her by the arm to keep her from leaving.

  “Don’t touch me!” She tore herself away from his hand and started to stalk off.

  He caught her arm again, and made certain to hold it more securely. “You are my wife. I will touch you whenever and however I wish.” He pulled her to him, his other arm banding about her waist. “You are mine!” His pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. Once she learned who was in control, she would be a good wife.

  She bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. When he drew away in surprise, she ran from him into the manor.

  He stood watching after her with his hand to his mouth. He’d known the woman less than twenty minutes, and already she’d drawn blood twice. She needed to be conquered more than any other woman he’d ever met, and he was the man who would have the privilege of doing it. He smiled.

  *****

  Christiana stormed into Eva’s bedroom and slammed the door behind her. “That man is absolutely insufferable!”

  Marina looked up at her eldest sister with wide eyes. She’d never seen Christiana so angry. “What did he do?”

  “He told me I’m his. He ordered our servants around. He kissed me!” Her eyes were wild. She pressed a hand to her lips. Marina was obviously startled by the idea of someone forcing her sister to do anything. Christiana had always been the one in charge, and no one could stop her when she set her mind to something.

  “What did you do when he kissed you?” Was this really her sister? The always calm and controlled Christiana? Marina found herself enjoying the situation, when she knew she shouldn’t have. Sometimes it was hard not to envy her sister’s disposition, though.

  “I bit his lip!” Her voice was hard with defiance as she said the words.

  “Christiana, you didn’t!” Marina had never been okay with violence of any kind, because she knew what it took to heal someone.

  Christiana hung her head. “I did. And I grazed his thigh with an arrow.” She looked over at Eva who was still unconscious. “Is she going to be okay?”

  Marina nodded. “She’ll be fine. She wouldn’t let me heal her completely, but she should be back to normal in a day or two with the healing I did.” She stared down at her sister, wishing she could do more without draining herself completely.

  “Do you have any energy left?” Christiana’s eyes were pleading as they met Marina’s.

  Marina’s brows drew together. “Of course. I didn’t use much healing Eva. She wouldn’t let me.”

  “Would you go heal the barbarian on the wall?” She made a face. “I can’t even remember the man’s name, and he says I’m marrying him tomorrow.” She shook her head in disgust, even as she asked her sister to heal him.

  “Heal him? Don’t you want an infection to set in so you won’t have to marry him?” Marina knew Christiana well enough to know she wouldn’t let the man die, but she wanted her to realize it on her own.

  Christiana shook her head. “I can’t let anyone die. Please help him.” She indicated Eva. “I’ll stay with her until you get back.” She took the seat beside her sister and picked up the broth Marina had been spoon-feeding Eva in her sleep.

  Marina got to her feet. “I’ll go see him now. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Christiana let out a harsh laugh. “I have no clue what I’m doing. If I knew, I’m sure we’d all be on horses trying to escape as quickly as we could.” She looked at her sleeping sister. “If Eva were capable, that probably is what we’d be doing.” But she wouldn’t leave the servants either. They were too much a part of their lives for any of the sisters to abandon them.

  “I’ll go see to your betrothed.” Her words were mischievous. She’d never been able to get a rise out of her sister, but she wasn’t ever going to stop trying.

  “Don’t call him that!”

  Marina closed the door softly behind her, laughing to herself. It was almost worth it to be captured just to see Christiana so out of control.

  Her laughter died as she saw one of the huge Normans just outside the door. It wasn’t the one who was marrying Christiana, but the one who looked just like him. They must be brothers, she thought. “Where is your leader? I would like to heal his wound.” The man’s blue eyes met hers, and she felt a jolt rush through her body.

  “Are you the one they say can heal with a touch?”

  “Aye. Where is he?”

  The man in question approached from the direction of their wall. “Who are you looking for?” The sisters were similar in appearance, but not identical. This was not his betrothed nor the one he’d wounded with his arrow, but the third one. “Which sister are you?”

  “I’m Marina, the youngest. I was looking for you. I’d like to heal your wound.” She didn’t add she was only there because her sister asked her. She didn’t want him to know he was getting sympathy from Christiana.

  “How will you heal my wound?” He raised an eyebrow as he asked. “And which of the wounds your sister has given me will you heal?”

  She saw the dried blood on his lip and almost laughed. Christiana really had bitten him. “I’ll heal both if you’ll allow it.” She started to raise her hand, but stopped at his next words.

  “You still haven’t answered my question. How will you heal me?”

  “With my touch, of course.” She knew he’d heard the rumors that one of them could heal with a touch, just as the man guarding their room had.

  Roland gave her a skeptical look. “Be my guest.”

  She took a step toward the man. She and her sisters were of an average height for women, and she’d never seen a man who towered over her in this way. Careful not to touch him, she hovered her hands over his lip and concentrated. Pulling her hand away, she saw his face was fully healed. She moved down to his thigh and placed her hands inches from the wound. This wound was deeper and hurt more than he’d let on. She healed it quickly, but it left her more drained than she’d expected. She stumbled back a bit, only to be caught by the man who’d guarded her door, the one she assumed was the brother of the leader.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, leaning against him, unsure if her unsteady legs would be able to hold her. He scooped her into his arms and asked where her room was. She raised a finger and pointed to the room across the hall from Eva’s.

  The leader opened the door for them and his brother laid her gently on the bed before going back to resume his place guarding her sister’s door. The leader stood looking down at her as her eyelids drooped. “Why did you heal me if you knew you would be so weak when you were finished?”

  “Christiana…”

  *****

  Roland stood staring down at Marina. Why would Christiana insist she heal me? The woman obviously hates me. She would know the effect it would have on her sister. Will I ever understand these strange Saxon women? And how did she really heal me? It wasn’t witchcraft. It couldn’t be. The woman wore a cross around her neck.

  He turned and strode from the room, pounding on the door to the other sister’s room. “Christiana!”

  She came to the door, looking drained. Her eyes moved between his lip and thigh. “Good. She healed you.” She moved to shut the door in his face.

  He stuck his arm in the opening to keep her from closing it and slowly pushed the door open. Roland stormed into the room seeing the sister he had injured lying on the bed sound asleep. “Why did you have her heal me?”

  “Because I caused the injury. It was our job to repair it.” She pointed to the door. “My sister needs her rest to heal properly.”

  He started to go, but then remembered why he had pounded on the door to begin with. “Marina is in her room unconscious.” He offered no more of an explanation as he walked out of the room. Before he closed the door behind him, he turned back to her. “Our wedding will take place at noon tomorrow. See to it you’re ready.”

 
“And if I refuse?”

  “I’ll bed you anyway, and you will not have the protection of my name.” He closed the door and heard her scream in frustration, smiling at his brother. “I don’t think she likes me, Charles.”

  “Only you would be pleased by that.”

  Roland whistled to himself as he walked down the hall. Life would certainly not be dull with Christiana for a bride. He didn’t care whether she liked him now for he knew in time she would come to accept her role as his wife. She was an intelligent woman. Surely she’d realize there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  Chapter Three

  Christiana awoke the following morning to three servants in her room. They were calmly collecting all of her clothing and removing it. One was pouring a bucket of steaming water into a wooden tub for her to bathe in.

  She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She’d been up until the wee hours of the morning trying to be sure both of her sisters were all right. Finally, exhaustion had made her seek her own bed, reminding her that her own powers had been used more than they should have been as well.

  “Where are you taking my clothes?” she asked, confused as she leaned back against the head of the bed.

  Joan, the maid the three girls shared, answered her. “The new master has insisted we remove all but your finest gown and undergarments so you will dress appropriately for the wedding.” Joan didn’t meet Christiana’s gaze as she said the words, knowing Christiana would be furious with her.

  Christiana groaned. Was the man a mind reader? She had decided the previous evening to wear her oldest dress with patches on the skirt for her wedding. The dress should have been passed onto the servants long ago, but Christiana used it for hunting.

  Within moments the servants had left with the exception of Joan. “My sisters?” Christiana asked as she climbed from her bed. Looking down at herself she realized she’d once again fallen asleep with her clothing on. She wondered if she could get away with wearing the wrinkled dress for the wedding ceremony. It wouldn’t make as dramatic a statement as her hunting dress would have, but it would still let him know how she felt about him.

  Joan shook her head. “I’m to send that dress out as soon as you’re in the tub.” She walked around behind Christiana and carefully unbuttoned her gown. “Your sisters are fine. They were both awake early this morning and have breakfasted and been readied for the ceremony.”

  Christiana stifled a yawn. “What time is it?” She rubbed the back of her neck which was stiff from the hours spent hovering over her sisters the night before.

  “You have two hours before the wedding. We must hurry.”

  Christiana stepped into the tub and sat down. Joan walked around behind her and knelt beside the tub, picking up a cloth and quickly washing her mistress’s back. “Are the Normans treating the servants well?”

  “Oh, yes. They’re acting as if we have been loyal to them for decades. Of course, only the three men have been allowed to enter the manor. The others are camped in the courtyard.” She scrubbed Christiana’s hair. “None of the three men have attempted to hurt us in any way.”

  Christiana breathed a sigh of relief. She and her sisters felt it was their duty to protect the servants, but they’d been unable to do anything to help the night before. Their exhaustion had rendered them helpless. “Is the wedding feast being prepared as ordered?”

  “Yes. He’s had his men out hunting and they’ve brought us pheasant and venison. He’s made a list of the foods he wants prepared as well. Only the three men already in the manor, plus the priest who travels with them, will be allowed into the manor for the wedding and feast, but the men outside must be served as well.” Joan’s voice was soft and soothing as she explained the situation as she knew it to Christiana.

  “How large is his army?”

  “He’s told us to prepare enough for three hundred men. I don’t believe there are quite that many, but there may be. It’s hard to tell with so many of them.” Joan stood holding out a drying sheet for Christiana. “We’ve been up since well before dawn preparing.”

  “How closely are you being guarded?” Maybe there was still a way for them all to escape. There had to be.

  Joan looked at Christiana in surprise. “They’re not guarding us at all. I think they know we will not try to do anything that could possibly leave you and your sisters in danger.” She helped Christiana dress in her shift, and then began the long process of brushing her hair dry. Christiana’s hair had never been cut, and hung past her knees when worn down.

  Although Joan worked quickly, they had only a few minutes to spare before the wedding when Christiana was finally ready. She reached out telepathically for her sisters to make certain they were still okay and ready to be beside her for the ceremony. “Sisters? Are you ready?”

  Eva’s voice came first. “Yes, we’re not allowed to be upstairs with you, though. For some reason they think we may fly out the windows if we’re all together, I think. Marina and I have been kept separated and not allowed to talk.”

  Marina’s voice followed. “I’m here. The priest has arrived, and the men are getting restless. Your new husband is pacing back and forth looking like he’s about to come and fetch you if you don’t get down here fairly soon.”

  “I’m ready. Joan and I are on our way.”

  “Good,” Eva told her. “These men are about to drive me crazy. Once you’re married, I hope they don’t guard us as closely. If you don’t hurry, I’m going to project a vision of fire to the middle of the room just to get them to leave us alone.”

  Christiana snickered at the idea. “Don’t do that. We don’t need to cause extra problems for ourselves.” She walked calmly down the stairs to the main room, wishing she could keep her stomach from fluttering. This may not be the wedding she’d always dreamed of, but the church didn’t allow divorce, so she would be married to this man for the rest of her life.

  The tunic she wore was a pale pink of the softest wool. Her wimple was made of the same fabric shaped in a square with a small crown fastening it to her head. Her hair was worn down for the wedding, brushed until it shone.

  She held her head high as she walked into the room where the priest was waiting with her future husband. What has his name again? She sent out a mental message to her sisters and all the servants. “What is the name of my future husband?”

  Joan, who walked behind her mistress, let out a giggle. “Forgive me, Lady Christiana, I could not help myself. His name is Roland.” Christiana heard another quick snicker from behind her. “I cannot believe you are walking so calmly toward a man whose name you do not know to marry him.”

  “What choice do I have? He’s taken all of us captive. Perhaps if I marry him, he will not make our lives horrible.” She said a prayer that was true. She was sacrificing herself for the greater good, and she hoped it did indeed turn out to be good for them all.

  Christiana stopped at Roland’s side and knelt before the priest paying no attention to the man kneeling beside her. She would never remember the exact words spoken during the ceremony. Her hand was shaking when he took it in his, and when his lips pressed hers with a kiss to seal their marriage, she felt sick to her stomach. She’d been certain somehow, something would happen to prevent her from having to marry him.

  Roland sat at the head of the table with Christiana on his right. Next to Christiana was her sister Eva and then her sister Marina. Across from Christiana was the man who was obviously Roland’s brother whose name she had yet to learn. Next to him was the dark man with the priest at his side.

  Christiana shared a trencher with her new husband, but was not allowed her own eating knife. Instead he cut off small pieces of meat for her and fed them to her with his fingers. She found it strange to eat from someone else’s fingers, but understood why he didn’t want to allow her to have a knife. She’d injured him twice now, and though she’d had him healed, he would surely think her capable of stabbing him during the meal.

  One of the men Roland had brought i
nto the manor with him, Hugh, the dark one, played his lute after the meal. He sang songs in his deep expressive voice. The songs were new to Christiana and her sisters, but they were enjoyable all the same.

  Christiana appreciated the fact that her husband had worked so hard to make her wedding day seem like it was a joyous occasion. She enjoyed the music immensely and was almost disappointed when Hugh returned to the table for a glass of wine to soothe his throat.

  They ate and drank throughout the day, while the servants ran in and out of the manor house with food for the men outdoors. Finally, new trenchers were cut and they were served fruit, cheese and nuts with a glass of wine. It was dark by the time they stood from the table, the wedding feast having taken the entire day.

  Roland looked down at Christiana after they were standing. “Go with your sisters to prepare for bed,” he ordered.

  Christiana nodded walking from the room gracefully while Joan followed her and her sisters up the stairs. They took her into her room and helped her remove her wimple, brushing her hair over and over, and finally putting it into one long braid down her back so it wouldn’t tangle as she slept. They helped her remove her dress and she climbed into bed completely nude. She knew little of what it meant for a man to bed her, but she was determined not to let Joan leave until she told her everything she needed to know.

  Christiana asked her sisters to leave, so she may ask Joan some questions, and they left immediately, knowing she would have questions about the bedding. Christiana took a deep breath, staring at her hands which were clenching the sheets. “What will happen?”

  Joan sat on the edge of the bed beside her and explained the process of love- making to her young mistress. She’d been there on the occasion of the girls’ birth, so it was odd to her to be explaining this now. When she finished, she said, “I wish your mother had been here to explain it to you.”

  Christiana nodded, more frightened and nervous after the explanation than she had been earlier. She tried not to let it show, of course, because Joan could have done nothing to ease her fears. How could she?