His heart stopped.
It was her. He was almost sure of it.
Her eyes lost focus, and she swayed on her feet. With a quickness learned in battle, he swung down from his horse and bent to catch her before her head hit the ground. Her fair hair fell free of the mesh net and spread in silken waves over his arm and the rough wooden boards of the drawbridge.
Chaos swirled around him. But William saw nothing but the young woman in his arms. It was her. The girl he dreamed of.
Before he could lift her, a weight slammed onto his back. Small fists beat him as a high-pitched voice wailed in his ear, “Let go of my mother! Let go of her!”
“Get the boy off me!” William called to the nearest man.
The man pulled the boy off and held him with outstretched arms as the boy kicked furiously at the air. He was a dark-haired boy who looked to be only three or four.
William held the boy’s eyes. “I will not harm her. I promise you.”
The boy nearly succeeded in kicking him in the head.
No sooner was the boy lifted away than a face as round and pink as a fat friar’s was before him, shouting, “My lady has been in bed with a fever these last five days!”
William leaned back to see who was chastising him so harshly. It was an older woman, clearly a servant of some kind.
The woman put her hand to the pale cheek of the lady in his arms. “What have you done to her?” she wailed. “My poor mistress! God save us!”
William stifled a curse. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I have come to save the lady, not harm her.”
The edge in his voice should have sent the woman running. It did not, but at least she ceased her yowling.
“Show me where I should take her,” he said, making an effort to speak calmly. “We cannot leave her here in the middle of the drawbridge.”
The woman blinked at him and then hoisted herself up with astonishing speed. She picked up her skirts and bustled past him, calling, “This way, this way!”
William got to his feet with the lady in his arms and walked through the gates of his castle. He followed the plump servant, who glanced over her shoulder every two or three steps and waved her hands about. He heard the murmurs and knew the servants dipped their heads and stepped back as he passed.
But he did not truly see any of them.
All his attention was on the warmth of her body against him, the feel of slippery silk fluttering against his hand. She weighed almost nothing. When a breeze caught her hair, the scent of wildflowers filled his nose, sending him back to a moonlit night by a river.
Before he knew it, he was climbing the steps to the keep. Just then, the boy broke free of his captor and wrapped himself around William’s leg.
“Do you want him to drop your mother, you foolish boy?” Before any of his men could move, the plump servant charged back and grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck.
“I shall see to your mother, child,” she said as she thrust the squirming boy into the arms of another servant. “Be a good boy and Mary will take you to the kitchen for a sweet bun.”
William signaled for his men to remain behind in the hall and followed the woman up the circular stair to the family’s private rooms above.
“I am Alys, the housekeeper,” the woman informed him as she puffed up the steps before him. “I’ve known Lady Catherine since she was a babe.”
The woman in his arms stirred. Forgetting himself, he bent down to shush her and almost kissed her forehead. He gave his head a sharp shake to remind himself that this woman, who seemed so fragile in his arms, argued with bishops. And worse.
At the entrance to the solar, he paused to survey the elegantly appointed room, with its dark wood furniture, rich tapestries, and lovely window seat overlooking the river. This was his. No more having a home at the pleasure of another man. His children would grow up knowing where they belonged.
With a start, he realized the woman he carried was the one who would bear those children.
He looked down at her. Though her eyes were closed, he saw the pinch between her brows. Just how long had she been awake?
“In here, m’lord,” the housekeeper called from one of the bedchambers that adjoined the solar.
He carried the lady into the chamber and carefully laid her down on the high bed. As he stepped back, he caught sight of his blood-smeared surcoat. What he must look like to her, coming straight from the battlefield. No wonder she fainted.