Bound By Honor: An Erotic Novel of Maid Marian by Colette Gale Read Free Book Online Page A

with me, you will be with John. He accepts nay from no one. Nor is he swayed from his desires. You will attend him tonight, as my guest.”
    Marian looked up at him, trying to read his face. Shadowed, closed, he looked as frightening as John sounded. She swallowed back a little shiver and said, “So you will protect me from John?”
    “Protect you?” He gave a short, edgy laugh. “That is a loose word for what will pass between us, but if you wish, you may consider it that.” Once again, his fingers curled around her arm. “Now, come, before I lose what little patience I have.”
     
     
    “Drink this,” Will said, shoving a skin of wine at Marian as they stopped just outside the door to John’s solar. “And if the prince offers you anything to drink, take it.” It would make things easier.
    She looked up at him, fury mingled with fear in her green eyes, and for a moment, he thought she meant to refuse. Then she snatched the skin from him and drank. She might loathe him—and if she didn’t now, she would soon—but Marian was no fool. She knew the wine would soften whatever would happen beyond the door.
    Will turned away, feeling as though his entire body were a jousting staff. Stiff and stark. Immovable. Unfeeling.
    But that was nothing new.
    She didn’t hand him the wineskin; she slapped it at his gut.
    “Aye, that’s it,” Will told her. “Show your fury. Fight me. ’Twill keep him entertained.” The skin was empty, leaving none for him—which was just as well. He couldn’t afford any indulgence.
    Folding the skin and tucking it into the belt of his tunic, Will gave a sharp nod to the two guards, then opened the door and shoved her in, making sure she stumbled.
    She didn’t just stumble; she fell in a heap of golden skirts and a bounce of glorious, intricately braided hair.
    “Ah . . . already she is on her knees, I see, de Wendeval.” The prince chuckled deeply. “How efficient you are.”
    One of the guards closed the door behind him and Will stepped farther into the chambers, trying not to breathe too deeply. The space smelled of indulgence: wine, food, sweat . . . and sex.
    “As you requested, my lord,” Will said, bowing briefly.
    “Rise, Lady Marian,” John said. “Allow me to welcome you to my private chambers. I do hope that you will visit oft, here, in my Court of Pleasure.”
    The prince sat on a massive wooden chair too heavy for even Will to move alone. The well-cushioned seat was situated to the left of the door, near one end of the large, rectangular chamber. Tapestries stirred on the wall from the shift of the heavy door closing, and thick rugs covered the stone floor instead of herbs and rushes. A long low table lined the wall directly across from the door. It was covered with wine flagons, platters, and bowls of food, drink, oils, lotions, and other indulgences.
    The prince’s chambers lacked for nothing in the realm of sensuality. He’d taken over this large, well-lit space that had been the ladies’ solar at Ludlow and made it into a den of hedonism. Candles flickered on the table, from wall sconces, and throughout the chamber. Along with the fires crackling at each end, the candlelight gave the space a warm, golden glow.
    Will made no move to assist Marian as she rose to her feet and smoothed her tunic, though he stood nearby. He realized his fingers had closed tightly into his palms, and knew there was little he could do if John took it into his head to forget their agreement.
    He didn’t need to look around to know that there were other women in the room—but not gentlewomen, not tonight. He could hear the faint whistle of breath, a little catch of a sob from a corner. A servingwoman or two, most likely, at the other end of the chamber.
    “My lord,” Marian said as she rose to her feet, giving him a brief nod. Will caught the trace of insolence in her voice and wanted to strangle her. “I am honored by your gracious invitation, but as I’ve told Nottingham, I