Free Conquering William by Sarah Hegger

treasured one. Without words, he shouted to the hall his pleasure in his marriage. He did it for Aonghas’s benefit, whispered her practical nature. But how lovely it felt, simpered the girl buried deep within her. That girl’s whimsical musings had stayed hidden deep within her for years.
    William waited for her to begin her meal before he ate. He motioned a man over, eyes twinkling at her. “Wine?”
    The rogue returned and brought her smile with him. “Aye, please.”
    Taking the jug from the serving man, William poured her wine for her and handed her the goblet. He watched her take a sip. “Any blackberries?”
    Alice giggled. Verily she had giggled more since his arrival than in her entire lifetime. “Nary a berry to be found.”
    “For shame.” He shook his head. “My Alice should always be showered in blackberries.”
    * * * *
    William’s head hammered away like the devil used it for an anvil the next morning. Blasted Scot had a head for drink that had almost seen William sliding beneath the table. Had they drunk wine, William would have had the wily sod, but that bedamned special mead had nigh killed him off.
    It still might as he blinked in the clear, bright morning light. Today, of all days, the north tossed out her loveliest mantle of blue sky. Clustered about on their nags, his men looked even more pitiful in the unforgiving light. He could bluster all he liked about taking a hard line with the thieving Scots, but not even he believed it when staring at his dismal force. Dear God, had the north no finer fighting men to offer? He may as well drive his herds into Aonghas’s courtyard and spare himself the humiliation.
    Aonghas, ruddy cheeked and bright eyed, beamed as if suffering none of the aftereffects of the night and offered him his hand. “Safe travels, Sir William.”
    “Call me William.”
    “Oh, aye.” Aonghas batted the side of his head. “I keep forgetting.”
    Like bloody hell.
    “Good morrow.” Alice’s sweet voice provided blessed relief. She entered the courtyard dressed little better than their men, but her shy smile dimmed the ache behind his eyes. He had sent her to find her rest hours before Aonghas and he had begun their rod-jousting over a jug.
    Her cart stood ready with Gresby perched behind the horses. They wouldn’t reach Tarnwych before the following day. Not if he had aught to say about it.
    William hauled his bones onto Paladin, glad he managed a semblance of elegance, and nudged the horse to Alice.
    She took a wary step back.
    “Come, my lady.” He leant down and held out his hand. “Today you ride with me.”
    “What?” She eyed his destrier and pressed her hand to her throat. “I do not ride.”
    “But I do.” He managed a reassuring smile. “I will not let you fall.” If she demurred, he might toss her onto the horse anyway. He could not stomach a day of dragging his ass behind her ridiculous cart.
    Alice shook her head. “I—”
    William scooped her beneath her armpits. Light as a feather, he lifted her onto the mount before him. “There.” He forced some good humor into his voice. “Now stop wriggling, or the horse might take fright.”
    She perched frozen before him, her nails digging into his wrists. “I would prefer the cart.”
    “That is because you have not yet tried the horse,” he said. Motioning his men, he spurred Paladin out of the courtyard.
    * * * *
    Alice clamped her lips together, swallowing the scream welling up in her throat. The ground flew past beneath them as the horse clattered over the cobbled yard and through the manor gates. A long, long way down, the blurring ground made her stomach lurch.
    Father laughed at her fear of horses, but even he had not plonked her down on one. Only the fear of falling kept her still. They cleared the village and thundered out into the countryside. The motion of the horse would bruise her nethers black and blue. Behind William’s shoulder, Gresby and her reliable cart grew smaller and