A Time of End

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  He nursed at her breasts to distract her as he recoiled and thrust again, moving in and out of her gently at first but with increasing power. Christin remained straddled on his lap, her legs spread wide as she welcomed him into her body for the first time. He was skilled and he was gentle, and he succeeded in building a heat within her loins that had bursts of lightning surging through her. The lightning grew stronger with each successive thrust.

  In very little time, Christin was experiencing her first release. Her body was young and highly sensitive, and Alexander held her tightly as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over her. Just as she was catching her breath, another climax hit her and she cried out, loudly enough that Alexander had to put his hand over her mouth so others would not hear her groans of pleasure. But her pleasure fed his own and after one great and powerful thrust, he quickly removed himself from her body and spent himself on her coverlet.

  Even when he was spent, he didn’t want it to be over. It had been such a soul-baring experienced that he thrust into her again, gently, and continued to stroke in and out of her, feeling her warm wetness surround him, feeling her climax yet again as her body bucked and shuddered involuntarily. He had to smile, thinking that it was quite miraculous, all of it. Amazing, even.

  She was amazing.

  And he was marked for life.

  “Are you well?” he asked huskily. “Did I hurt you?”

  Her arms were still around his neck, her face in the side of his head. She mumbled something but she was so muffled that he didn’t hear what she said. He shifted so she had to loosen her grip on him and lift her head.

  “What did you say?” he asked, amused.

  Her hair was hanging in her face. She even had a piece of it in her mouth, which he pulled out. When he pushed her hair away from her face, he could see that her eyes were still closed. He started to laugh.

  “Cissy?” he said. “Say something.”

  She grinned, peeping her eyes open. “I said that all is well,” she said. “And I think I love you.”

  Her arms tightened and she kissed him again, deeply, and he responded instantly. It was a kiss of desire, of emotion, and most of all, of joy.

  Of two people who had finally found one another.

  “Am I truly so fortunate, sweetheart?” he breathed against her mouth. “Do you truly?”

  She pulled her lips away long enough to look him in the eye. “I think I have loved you since before I met you,” she said softly. “My father and uncle would speak so highly of Alexander de Sherrington and when we met, I knew I already loved you. I admired you so much that the admiration became something else once we came to know each other. I cannot explain it better than that. I have been yours since the beginning, Sherry, only you did not know it.”

  He grinned, holding her head between his two enormous hands. “I know it now.”

  “You do.”

  He kissed her again, gently this time. “Now,” he said. “It is time for you to pack a satchel and prepare to depart. I will return for you once I’ve finished preparing the horses.”

  “Shall I meet you below, in the farm fields?”

  “Nay.”

  She looked at him, surprised. “Why not?”

  “Because there are enough men around now that we can lose ourselves leaving through the main gate,” he said. “I am confident that there is so much activity, and everyone is focused on the evening’s feast, that we will be able to slip by unnoticed. Also, I do not want you out of my sight, so you will remain here until I return for you. I do not want you wandering alone with all of the soldiers around and with the king’s men lurking. Therefore, pack your bag and I will return for you shortly.”

  He seemed determined. Christin simply nodded, trusting him and his plans. He kissed her once more, twice more, before moving to help her pull the top of her dress up. Realizing their time alone was ended, she made an unhappy face and begrudgingly climbed off him, refitting her dress, which was bunched up around her waist. The bodice went back up and the skirts went back down, and she looked at her coverlet to see the evidence of their activities.

  Alexander was on his feet, tying off his breeches, as she went to the bed and noted a wet, slightly pink stain on it. He turned to see what had her attention and, noticing the evidence of their activities, reached down and flipped the coverlet over without a word. Now, the stain was on the underside with the clean coverlet above. When she looked at him, rather embarrassed, he smiled as he bent over and kissed her forehead.

  “It is not that I am ashamed of what we did,” he said quietly. “But I do not want others to know of it, for obvious reasons. What we shared, Cissy… that is for us alone and no one else.”

  She nodded. “Agreed.”

  He put a big hand on her face, cupping her cheek and forcing her to look at him. “Are you sure you’re well?”

  “I am fine.”

  “No discomfort or regrets?”

  She shook her head, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. “Never,” she murmured. “But already, I miss you. Please hurry back to me, Sherry. Every day of this separation will be torture.”

  He enveloped her in his enormous arms, memorizing the feel of her against him to recall on the days to come. He honestly didn’t know what the future would bring them, or how long they would truly be separated, but he didn’t want to frighten her with his speculation. He wanted this moment to be as warm and without angst as it could possibly be.

  “It will be torture, indeed,” he said after a moment. “But I carry your love and that will give me the strength of the archangels for what is to come.”

  Kissing her on the side of the head, he let her go, heading for the door. He was about to lift the latch when a word from her stopped him.

  “Will I carry your love, also?” she asked quietly.

  He paused, turning to her. The twinkle in his dark eyes told her everything even before he spoke. “You do,” he murmured. “It does not seem possible that I am capable of saying this so soon, but it is what I feel. My love was only meant for you.”

  With that, he slipped from the door, out into the dark landing beyond. Christin went to the door, hearing his boot falls as he descended the stairs and headed out into the day beyond.

  With a smile playing on her lips, she closed her door and bolted it. She simply stood there for a moment, reliving the past several minutes, feeling as if her heart had wings. She never knew that she could be so completely and utterly happy, as if she were walking on clouds. It didn’t seem possible.

  But possible, it was.

  He loved her.

  Pushing her silly daydreams aside, she went on the hunt for her satchel.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Thank God he’d been able to break free.

  Sean was free and clear now that Monnington’s body had been cleaned up off the stones where he landed. As far as everyone was concerned, it was a terrible accident.

  Now, he was on the hunt.

  He had no idea where Christin was, but he needed to get to The Marshal or Christopher to tell them what was afoot. Unfortunately, that meant going to the encampment area where there were dozens of lords set up for a nice, long stay in honor of the king’s birthday celebration.

  Sean wasn’t so certain he wanted to head down there because there would literally be hundreds of witnesses to his presence in the de Lohr encampment and that wasn’t something he wanted to explain to the king should word get back to him. The same could be said for entering The Marshal’s encampment, so he realized as he came to the main gatehouse that led down into the baileys that he wouldn’t be able to go to them.

  They would have to come to him.

  But that didn’t stop him from heading out into the encampments, however. He was hoping to catch the eye of anyone – Maxton, Kress, Alexander, even his brother – anyone – and perhaps he could convey to them that he needed to speak. For all the witnesses to his presence would know, however, he was simply perusing those who had
come to the celebration, information he would relay to the king. As long as he wasn’t seen specifically speaking with de Lohr or The Marshal, his behavior would be perfectly normal.

  The de Lohr and Marshal camps were right next to each other and the first person he happened to see was his good friend, Caius d’Avignon. Tall, black-haired Caius spied him almost immediately as he stood speaking to Maxton, who turned around casually to notice Sean standing back on the roadway that led to the gatehouse. When Sean tightened his gloves, or at least pretended to, and used his right hand to point discreetly to the keep, they realized it was a signal.

  Caius followed, leaving Maxton to inform The Marshal of Sean’s appearance.

  Sean wandered back inside the walls that enclosed the keep with Caius strolling casually several yards behind him. There were a few of the king’s soldiers lingering in this area, near the stairs that led into the keep, but he ignored them. He went around behind the chapel, watching as Caius entered the area.

  When Caius saw him back behind the chapel, he continued forward, winding his way among the outbuildings before doubling back and ending up behind the chapel where Sean was. Or, at least where he thought Sean was. When he didn’t see the man immediately, he grew frustrated and started to walk to the front of the chapel when a big hand shot out and grabbed him from the doorway at the rear of the chapel.

  Sean yanked him into the dark, empty church.

  “Jesus, Sean,” Caius grunted. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  Knowing that was an impossible task, Sean fought off a grin. “I doubt that,” he said. “No one frightens The Britannia Viper and lives to tell the tale.”

  Caius looked at the man, smiling. “That is true,” he said, his gaze lingering on Sean a moment. “I am the very model of an unflappable man. It has been a long time, my friend.”

  “It has.”

  “I would ask how you have been, but I suspect that is not a fair question.”

  Sean shrugged. “I am well, if that is what you mean,” he said. “But doing what I do… it is every bit the hell you thought it would be, Cai. I would say that you should be glad you are not in my shoes, but there are days when I wish you were with all my heart.”

  Caius’ smile faded. “I know,” he said, feeling both guilt and sympathy. “Were it not for you, it would be me known as Lord of the Shadows. The Marshal offered the position to us both but you were the one who volunteered. I know it was to spare me the horrors of it, Sean. I’ve always known.”

  Sean sighed faintly. “It does not matter now,” he said. “It is my task and has been for years. But know that, physically, I am well. I have more money than I know what to do with, courtesy of the king, and he speaks of giving me a lordship, although that has not happened yet. I will emerge from this rich, if nothing else.”

  Caius grunted. “It is small compensation for serving the bastard.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I told Kevin what happened, you know,” Caius said. “I told him that I had an equal chance of becoming the Lord of the Shadows but that you volunteered before I could make my decision. It did not seem to matter to your brother at all. He is still quite angry at you.”

  Sean’s mood darkened. “I know,” he said. “I tried to speak with him yesterday but he does not want to see reason. He does not want to understand why I did what I did. He sees the hurt I have caused and that is all he sees.”

  Caius lifted his eyebrows in resignation. “He is a little brother who’s much-adored big brother has turned to the wicked side of politics, for all the world to see,” he said. “Kevin must grow up, Sean. When he does, he will understand.”

  “Possibly,” Sean said. “But I do not hold out hope. And I have little time, so I do not wish to waste it speaking of Kevin. There is a situation you must relay to The Marshal immediately. More than that, you must relay it to Christopher de Lohr.”

  “What about?”

  “John informed me yesterday that he wants Christin de Lohr to marry his son, Robert FitzRoy,” he said. “Because of this, a plan was put into action last night in that Christin behaved horribly at supper to discourage the king from having any ambitions on her. She did a magnificent job of presenting a wretched, ill-behaved woman, but it did not deter John. He and Gerard d’Athee have concocted a scheme to abduct Christin from Norwich and take her north to FitzRoy to be married.”

  Caius’ brow was furrowed with concern. “When?”

  “Today.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “To remove her from the postern gate and take her to the farm fields below. Less resistance than passing through four gatehouses if they take her from the keep.”

  Caius exhaled sharply. “Christ,” he muttered. “Where is Christin?”

  Sean shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “I would assume in her chamber, which is in the apartment block to the east of this chapel, but I just saw Sherry heading down to the lower baileys.”

  “What does Sherry have to do with Christin?”

  “They are lovers.”

  Caius’ eyebrows lifted in surprise. “They are? I’d not heard.”

  “I believe they have been trying to keep quiet on the matter,” Sean said. “In any case, she is not with Sherry, but I shall try to locate her. Hopefully, she is in her chamber behind a locked door.”

  “If they are lovers, then Sherry will want to know about this, too.”

  “Indeed. And you must tell him after you tell The Marshal and Christopher.”

  Caius nodded, already moving for the door. “What will you do when you find Christin?”

  Sean was right behind him. “Hide her,” he said. “John cannot abduct what he cannot find, and it will give de Lohr a chance to get her out of Norwich.”

  Just as they reached the door, they both heard screaming.

  He’d told her to wait in her chamber, but restless, she couldn’t seem to do it.

  Dressed in a dark blue wool traveling dress with a matching cloak and her dark hair braided, Christin wanted to leave immediately. Her bag was packed just a few minutes after Alexander had left her to go down to the stables. He’d told her to wait for him, but she was confident that it would be an easy walk to the stables to meet him there. There were gangs of men around, all going about their business, shielding her in case royal eyes happened to be watching.

  Certainly, nothing could happen with a crowd all around.

  She saw no reason to wait.

  Impatience got the better of her. So did nerves. She was afraid to stay in her chamber, knowing that was the obvious place to look should the king’s men come on the hunt. Somehow, she felt more vulnerable in her chamber. Or perhaps she felt vulnerable because she was without Alexander. When she was with him, she felt safe.

  It wasn’t the brightest decision to leave her chamber, but she did.

  She wanted to find Alexander.

  The encounter with him that afternoon had done something to her. She’d always been singularly focused, strangely so, on her tasks for William Marshal. As she’d told Alexander on more than one occasion, it made her feel as if she were part of something. As if she were making a difference as few women could claim, and that was still very true, but now… now, all she could seem to focus on was Alexander.

  She could see their children, strong sons with de Lohr and de Sherrington blood, lads that would grow up to be great knights and tributes to both their father and grandsire. For the first time in her life, she was thinking of marriage and children, not of missions for William Marshal.

  She was thinking of love.

  It was like a dream, all of it.

  Just as she was coming off the stairs, the entry door opened and Wynter stepped through. She looked at Christin in surprise.

  “There you are,” she said. “Where have you been? Lady de Winter has been asking about you.”

  Christin’s cheeks threatened to turn bright red then and there, but she fought it. “I… my father is here,” she said, walking that fine
line between a lie and the truth. “I have not seen him in some time, you know.”

  The implication was that she’d been with her father and Wynter believed her. She had no reason not to.

  “I know,” Wynter said. “I would like to greet him, also. How is he faring these days?”

  “Fine. My Uncle David is here also.”

  “Lovely,” Wynter said, smiling. But her smile quickly faded. “Did you tell your father what happened last night? With the king, I mean?”

  Christin shook her head. “Nay,” she said truthfully. “It will greatly upset him. You know that he and John have never had a good relationship and I fear upsetting the entire celebration if I tell my father that the king invited me to sup.”

  “But you were brilliant in the way you handled him,” Wynter insisted. “You can tell your father what you did to discourage the king and he should have a good laugh over it.”

  Christin grinned. “We were brilliant, weren’t we?” she said. “You were astonishingly smart, Wynnie. For a moment there, I thought we were truly fighting.”

  Wynter laughed. “Are you sore this morning? My arse hurts a bit where I fell onto the floor.”

  Christin giggled, rubbing her bum. “A little,” she said. “But it was worth it. The king fled in disgust and that is exactly what we wanted.”

  “True,” Wynter said. Then, she pointed to Christin’s satchel. “Where are you going with that?”

  Christin looked at the bag. “I am going to the village, to the inn we discussed yesterday,” she said. “It is best that I stay out of the king’s way, at least until he departs Norwich. I do not want to give him the chance to change his mind and decide he wants to dine with me again.”

  “He would do so at his peril, but I think it is wise if you leave, too. Does your father know?”

  “I am going to find him right now and tell him.”

  Wynter hugged her. “Then Godspeed,” she said. “Be safe, Cissy. I will see you soon.”

  Christin headed for the door. “Remember,” she said. “You do not know where I have gone.”