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The Commander's Desire

Historical Romance Novel Excerpts

Excerpt One “Give me your blades,” the Commander growled down at her.         Fear pounded in Elwytha's chest, and she licked her dry lips. “You found no blades when you pawed through my clothes. The maid found none on my person. Perhaps that is because I have none.”         “I don’t trust you.”         She smiled. As well you shouldn’t. However, she said, “How can we have a marriage with no trust?”         “Come with me.” He forced her toward the door. “You will not return to this room.”         “But my clothes!”         “You will have new clothes. Clothes with no holes for pockets. Clothes that provide no access to the blade at your thigh.”         “Nonsense.” Unthinking, she struggled and then, to her consternation, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She cried out in fear and horrified humiliation. “Put me down!” She pounded on his broad back. “Put me down, you monstrous serf!”         He strode silently through the halls. She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see the others witnessing her humiliation. “Put me down. Put me down at once!” she gasped. She bit her lip, trying to stop the weak tears of a woman, not a warrior. She sniffed and finally stopped struggling, and hung down his back. His belt about his jerkin was within reach. If only she could loose it, she could cinch it around his massive neck!         “Where are you taking me?” she demanded, voice muffled. Perhaps if she pretended submission he would return her to her feet. And if she found a dagger, she’d gladly plunge it through his heart.         “To my chambers.”         “Nay!” she gasped out, and struggled in earnest then. “I have decided you are unacceptable to me. You have none of the finer qualities I require in a husband!”

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Excerpt Two

Elwytha needed the knave’s blade. She waited until more ale was consumed and the men jested, roaring with laughter up and down the table. The knave to her left rested his arms on the table now, softly chuckling like a simpleton. He’d lost his reasoning abilities…whatever he’d possessed to begin with.
       A quick scan proved no one paid her the least mind. Quickly, stealthily and without looking, she slipped the enemy’s dagger from his scabbard. Easy. Simple. She hid it in the folds of her dress beneath the table, heart beating rapidly. Victory! Elwytha smiled to herself and sipped more water.
       A wide hand curled around her wrist under the table. Alarm jolted through her. Outraged, she turned to the Commander. “Take no liberties with me,” she hissed.
       His eyes bored into hers. “Return it.”
       She slid the blade with her other hand to her knees, and, using her shins as a slide, allowed the dagger to slide to her feet. She scooted it under one foot. “Unhand me,” she ordered.
       The grip tightened. “Return it.”
       “Have you drunk too much ale?”
       “I will search you if you do not return it now.” The frowning, squinty gaze looked hard, reminding her of the brute warrior he was.
       Now was the time to keep a cool head.
       She raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you’re imagining, but I have taken nothing. See? My utensil remains on the table. As do my trencher and cup. What more do you wish?”
       “Return it.” His deep voice remained even. Faintly, she felt surprised he didn’t thunder at her. Probably in an attempt to retain his pride. He wished no one to guess he wielded no control over his future bride.
       She smiled at that pleasing thought.
       “Put both your hands on the table,” he rumbled.
       Elwytha froze for a second, then willingly complied. She gave him a mocking half-smile.
       “Now stand,” he ordered, “and take a step back from the table.”
       What about the blade? Elwytha felt uneasy. What did he intend with these orders? And should she submit? But she needed that dagger. No way could he have seen her sleight of hand. He would not thwart her now.