That thought spurring him on, Hugh suddenly lifted one hand to his injured head. He squeezed his eyes closed and moaned as if in pain. Then he peeked at her from between two fingers. The alarm now filling Willa's face was quite encouraging.
"You are badly injured!" she cried and bent closer. Her hair drifted around their faces, a curtain between them and the world.
Hugh produced what he hoped was the brave smile of a man on death's door and let his hand fall feebly away. "Nay. I am fine." He was rather proud of the breathless, almost trembling quality he had managed to infuse into his voice. Never having needed the skill before, he'd not realized what a masterful thespian he was.
Willa certainly seemed convinced. Looking fearful, she straightened and peered desperately toward the cottage. Her voice anxious, she fretted, "Where is Eada? She will know what to do. I should fetch her."
"Nay!" Hugh winced at the sharp strength in his tone, but the last thing he wanted was for Eada to interrupt his best chance at convincing the chit to marry him. "Nay," he repeated, his voice gentler this time. "Prithee, my lady. Do not leave me to die here alone in the mud."
"Oh, Hugh," she breathed in horror. Her arms tightened around him in a protective gesture. "You must not say such things. You will not die. Eada said - "
"Hush." He pressed a finger to her lips. "Do not fret so. 'Tis an honor to die for one as beautiful as you. 'Tis my penance for treating you so shabbily on our first meeting. I have no excuse for my behavior except that Uncle Richard's death came as a shock to me. The madness of grief must have made me behave so."
Now that was inspired, he thought. Perfect! His words had moved her, he could tell. She bent closer, her expression soft as she brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek and breathed, "Oh, poor Hugh."
He blinked his eyelashes several times, trying for the sweetly innocent look women had used on him over the years. It didn't have the desired effect. Instead of melting further, she frowned slightly and straightened the smallest bit away from him. "Have you something in your eye?"
"Nay." He caught at her hair to draw her back and debated what to do. In the end, he decided to push forward. " 'Tis nothing but - "
"But?" she prompted gently.
"I would wish to ask - Nay, beg. I would beg during these last moments of my life that you forgive me my unchivalrous gaff. Pray, say you forgive me."
"Of course, my lord," Willa assured him. "But I promise you, you are not dying. Eada would have seen - "
"She is not all-seeing," Hugh interrupted impatiently, then forced his temper away and managed a pious smile before raising his hand to let it drop across his face in a forlorn gesture. "Alas, no one can see the future. Had I but been able to foresee what the future held, mayhap this night would never have been. Mayhap we would even now be married and cuddled warm and safe in our marriage bed."
He peeked between two fingers again to see how she would react and was gratified by the distress he saw on her face. He let his hand slide away and offered yet another brave smile. "Never fear. I am not afraid to die. Now I shall sleep the long sleep, and at least be able to dream that we were married. Unless..."
Willa leaned closer. "Unless?"
He tried for an expression of longing. "Would that you could find it in your heart to grant a dying man's wish and agree to be my wife."
"Ye're laying it on rather thick, aren't ye?"
Willa lifted her head abruptly, the curtain of her hair swinging away so that Hugh had a perfect view of both Eada and Baldulf standing over them. The pair stood with arms crossed, amusement obvious on their faces. It was Eada who had spoken, and with her usual disrespect. Hugh glared at the woman, wishing he could throttle her for interrupting what he was sure would have been Willa's acceptance.
"Oh, thank goodness you are here, Eada," Willa said. "Hugh has a head wound you must tend to at once."
"So I see." The old woman seemed not in the least impressed. "Well, let him stand up then and I shall tend it. I am too old to be kneeling in the mud in my nightshift."
"But - " Willa began, only to pause when Hugh sat up and began to struggle to his feet. It was a struggle. Not due to his head wound, however. Chain mail was not made for crawling around in the mud. Fortunately, Baldulf unbent enough to lend him a hand. The moment Hugh was on his feet, Willa leapt to her own and placed a hand on his arm as if to steady him. He was too busy mentally cursing his bad luck to appreciate it. One minute. One more minute and he would have had her agreeing to marry him.
"I shall have a look at his head while you dress," Eada told Willa pointedly. Her words drew Hugh's attention to the fact that the girl stood there in nothing but a thin cotton shift. A damp and muddy shift. Worn nearly see-through by many washings, it clung to her br**sts and h*ps with loving affection. Damn! He really must have sustained some damage to the head to have missed that, he thought as Willa moved toward the cottage.
Hugh watched her go, wanting nothing more than to grab her up, toss her over his mount's back and ride off to the castle. Unfortunately, that would hardly convince her to marry him. Things would have been much easier if his uncle were still alive. As her guardian, Richard could have ordered her to marry him and the deed would be done. As it was, she had neither a name nor an identifiable father, so only King John could order such an event. Hugh thought briefly about going to court and asking the king to do just that, then pushed the notion aside. He could not leave her alone while he traveled to court. Tonight's events had made that clear. Even ten years after the "accident" that had killed young Luvena, someone wanted this woman dead.
Willa had reached the cottage. She opened the door, allowing candlelight to spill out and highlighting her scanty garb for him. He was enjoying the view immensely but Eada spoiled it by poking him in the stomach.
"Bend over so I can see yer head," the crone ordered, unmoved by the glare he now turned on her. "And stop looking so morose. Ye got what ye wanted."
"Got what I wanted?" he echoed irritably even as he did as he was bid.
"Aye. She has agreed to marry ye."
"What?" Hugh straightened to stare at her with amazement.
"Did ye not hear her order Baldulf to start packing?" she asked with exasperation.
Actually, he hadn't. Hugh had some vague recollection of her saying something before turning to walk to the cottage, but he hadn't been paying attention. He'd been too busy ogling her in her shift.
"She ordered Baldulf to start packing so that we could move to the castle. She's marrying ye," Eada announced and poked him in the belly.
"I did wonder if that was what it meant," Baldulf said as Hugh automatically bent forward, submitting to the witch's prodding. "But why?"
" 'Tis obvious," Hugh snapped, straightening to scowl at him. The guard was presently scratching his head in apparent bewilderment over what Willa could see in Hugh. His attitude was highly insulting. "She appreciates my saving her life this evening."
Baldulf look doubtful. "That knock to the head appears to be more serious than I thought, my lord. It has rattled your brain." Even as Hugh was stiffening over that announcement, the soldier continued, "First off, it seemed to me that 'twas Wolfy and Fen saving your sorry hide. Secondly, what makes you so quick to assume 'twas her life that was threatened? The fellow attacked you, not her."
Hugh heaved an impatient breath. "He only attacked me because I stood between him and the cottage."
"Uh-huh." Baldulf did not appear convinced. "And why, after all these years without incident, would someone suddenly make an attempt on her life again?"
"Perhaps he did not wish her to marry me. Perhaps she is no threat as a simple village lass, but becomes one as my wife."
"Hmmmm. The only problem with that suggestion is that she had not agreed to be your wife before the attack," Baldulf pointed out dryly. "Perhaps everyone thought her dead until you came along and drew attention her way with your pledge to guard her until she accepted your suit."
"Are you holding me responsible for this attack?" Hugh gaped at him.
"My lord, Eada, Willa and I have lived here for nigh on ten years. In that time, we have never once been attacked... until now. This fact suggests to me that the attack was - "
"My fault? Hugh's mouth dropped open, then just hung there. He was flummoxed by the man's reasoning. He was also thinking, however, and it wasn't long before he made the reluctant admission, "Perhaps my presence did prompt the attack. However, I cannot help thinking it may have been for the best. Ere this we were uncertain as to whether her life was still in danger. Now we know 'tis and may strengthen our guard."
"Hmmm," Baldulf grunted as Eada poked Hugh to get him to bend to her level once more. Then the soldier asked the old woman, "Is it safe for her to marry him?"
"Safe?" Hugh straightened indignantly. "I would never harm a lady."
"There was never any question of that, my lord," Baldulf assured him, then explained, "Willa is a very forgiving girl. She would have married you yesterday, but for Eada's vision."
" 'Twasn't a vision," Eada corrected with a grin that struck Hugh as rather evil. "I read it in the dregs of his wine. She was not to marry him until he crawled to her on his belly, else he would die ere the next full moon."
Hugh snorted at the very thought of such an occurrence. It would be a cold day in hell before he would crawl to any woman.
"He crawled." Eada announced with satisfaction.
"I did not!" Hugh stood upright in surprise, only to bend forward once more with a grunt as the old witch poked him again.
"Aye. Ye did," she corrected in gleeful tones as she dabbed at his head. "I saw ye. Ye crawled through the mud to her side." Hugh now recalled that he had indeed crawled through the mud to get to Willa. Which meant that all that nonsense he'd spouted afterward about dying and last wishes had been unnecessary. So was sitting in the rain for two days and nights. Nothing he could have said or done would have convinced her to marry him because, thanks to the witch, she'd thought she was saving his life by refusing him.
He was muttering under his breath over that when it occurred to him that he'd crawled through the mud, and she'd now agreed to marry him. He had won. She was going to marry him and she, Baldulf and the witch were moving to the castle.
He was just starting to grin at this realization when the old crone smiled at him wickedly and said, "I knew ye'd crawl. I'm never wrong."
"Ah, hell," he muttered, wondering for the first time if he shouldn't just give up the money and the title and flee for his life right now.
Chapter Seven
"Hugh."
A tap on Hugh's shoulder startled him awake and nearly sent him plummeting off his saddle. Regaining his balance at the last moment, he shook his head in an effort to wake up and peered bleary-eyed at the man beside him.
"Lucan." Hugh shook his head again, finding it hard to order his thoughts. A glance at the sun showed that he'd not slept long. Perhaps a matter of moments. It was still in the same position it had been in when his eyes had fluttered shut. Damn, he was getting too old for this nonsense. He was exhausted.
"What is that about?"
Hugh followed the other man's gesture to the body in the center of the clearing and grimaced. "He came rushing out of the woods just ere dawn this morning, sword raised in attack."
Lucan arched an eyebrow at this news. "That does not look like a sword wound on his throat. Nor his face."
"Nay. Those beasts of Willa's did that."
Lucan whistled, his gaze moving to the dead man again.
Hugh peered at him too, then shifted uncomfortably and asked, "Did you bring anything for me to eat or drink? My throat is as dry as dust."
"Oh, aye." Lucan unhooked a sack from his saddle and handed it over, his gaze returning to the dead man as Hugh dug out the ale skin. "This could be a good thing. If we can convince Willa that 'twas you who killed the man, she may be grateful enough to agree to wed you."
Hugh shook his head as he tipped the ale skin up and gulped from it greedily. Pulling it away after several moments, he gasped, "No need. She has agreed to marry me. She is packing even as we speak. Still."
Lucan grinned. "Still?"
"Aye." Hugh grimaced. "They have been packing since dawn."
Lucan goggled at this news. "There cannot possibly be that much to pack! 'Tis a small cottage."
"Aye," Hugh agreed in mournful tones. "But there is also a stable, and her animal menagerie."
"Animal menagerie?"
"Do not ask," he said with a grimace, but Lucan did not have to ask. Baldulf chose that moment to bring the fully loaded cart out from behind the stable. It was piled high with junk. A crooked chair, animal cages, baskets and sacks of unidentifiable items.
Willa followed. She barely cast a glance their way before going into the cottage. Baldulf urged the horse to draw the cart forward until the back end stood a bare foot or two in front of the door, then followed her inside. They were both back a moment later, piling more baskets and bulging sacks on top of those already in the cart.
Lucan watched the goings on with wide eyes. "Are they just now getting to the cottage?"
"Aye." Hugh watched with resignation as the pair disappeared inside the small building again. "Willa started in the cottage, but then left Eada to finish the packing there while she went to aid Baldulf in emptying out the stable."
The two warriors watched silently as Willa and Baldulf came out with more baskets and sacks and dumped them in the cart.
"Maybe we should offer to help?" Lucan suggested as the pair headed back into the hovel.
Hugh shook his head. "I offered earlier. They said I would just be in the way. They wished to see to it themselves."