Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Did I hurt you?” he whispered raggedly.

  Vesper shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “’Tis just… I have not…”

  He could see how embarrassed she was and he leaned forward, kissing her on the chin. “You needn’t be ashamed,” he murmured. “This is a wonderful and natural thing. You will enjoy it, I promise. Will you trust me just a little?”

  She had liked what he’d done to her so far so she nodded. “Aye,” she murmured. “But… but there are men in the room below us….”

  He kissed her again. “They will not hear us if we are quiet,” he said. “And they cannot see us, even if they come up the staircase. But if you are still uncomfortable, then I shall stop.”

  She quickly shook her head. “Nay,” she said softly. “You promised that I would enjoy this. I am waiting.”

  He gave her a half-grin, kissing her once more as he resumed his heated kisses on her shoulder. The hand on her thigh remained still for a few moments longer before beginning its exploration once more, moving to the dark curls between her legs. He probed her gently, causing her to twitch and buck, because his fingers made some kind of magic happen down there. There was a certain spot he would touch that nearly brought her off the floor. It made sparks fly, causing her legs to tremble, but it was oh-so-pleasurable.

  Val had been right; she liked it a great deal. It was the most amazing sensation she’d ever known. As she lay there, thoroughly enjoying his attention, Val pulled her skirts up to her waist and settled himself between her legs. Then, she could feel him fumbling with his breeches as something very warm and very hard suddenly pressed against her womanly center.

  Vesper didn’t have time to think on what he was doing; she barely had time to breathe before he was slanting his mouth over hers again while at the same time, thrusting his hips forward so that his manhood slid into her waiting body. Vesper gasped at his sensual intrusion, groaning softly as he tried to muffle the sounds with his kisses. Three gentle but firm thrusts and he was seated to the hilt, having broken through the barrier of her virginity. The flash of sharp pain told Vesper she was no longer a maiden, but true to Val’s word, she was enjoying it. Oddly enough, the pain hadn’t been enough to frighten or distress her. It had quickly come and was quickly gone. As Val gathered her up against him, his hips began to move.

  Vesper’s arms were around his neck as he thrust into her repeatedly, a gentle rhythm at first to allow her to become accustomed to him, but Vesper very quickly discovered that his pelvis against hers caused those sparks to fly again. It was that pleasure he spoke of, overwhelming her, and she closed her eyes as the sparks grew hotter and more intense. All she could do was hang on to Val as he had his way with her but she didn’t care a lick; not a bloody lick. Had Henry’s army stormed the loft at that moment, she wouldn’t have let go of Val and she wouldn’t have let him stop, not for anything. This was what she was born to feel with the man she was born to feel it with.

  Every stroke, every kiss, was pure magic.

  Somehow, the sparks he was creating in her exploded into a shower of stars and ripples of pleasure coursed through her body as she experienced her first release. As Vesper went limp in his arms, gasping for air, Val took his own pleasure, releasing himself deep. In truth, his mind had been a miasma of lustful thoughts from the moment he entered her until this very second when he climaxed so hard that he bit his lip. Now, reality was settling along with the taste of his own blood and the smell of her, the feel of her, was filling the very air around him. Even after he released, he continued to move his hips gently, his body joined to hers, the feel of his seed making her hot and slick against his flesh.

  His seed… God, he’d never imagined he would wish for a woman to conceive his child but, at this moment, he prayed for that. He prayed that his seed would find its mark and take root, and a son in his image would be born. He couldn’t imagine a better mother for his child, the wise and beautiful Vesper, a woman he adored deeply. If he went to Winchester tomorrow and Henry decided upon a punishment that would see him leave this earth, then at least there was a chance that something of him would live on.

  That’s what this night meant to him. Hope for his destiny.

  “Vesper?” he whispered, his face in the side of her head. “Sweetheart? Are you well? I did not hurt you, did I?”

  Vesper shook her head, tickling his nose with her hair. “You did not,” she murmured. “I am well. More than well.”

  He smiled. “Then I kept my promise? You enjoyed it?”

  She nodded. Then, she pulled back to look at him, putting a hand on his cheek and watching him as he kissed it tenderly. There was reverence in his movements.

  “I did,” she said, trying to think of a way to voice her thoughts and not sound foolish. “I have never felt so close to anyone, as if we were made for each other. As if you are a part of me and I am a part of you. Val… let me go with you tomorrow when you go to Winchester. Please.”

  His smile faded. “Nay,” he said with regret. “I would have you remain here with my mother. If Henry should punish me, then I should not want you there.”

  Vesper didn’t like that answer. “But you are going into a den of men who only seek to harm you,” she said. “Let me go as the one person who would support you.”

  He touched her face, kissing her on the cheek. “It is out of the question, so please do not ask me again,” he said. “I feel strongly that you must remain here. Whatever I must face with Henry, it will bring me comfort knowing you are here and you are safe. Will you please do this for me?”

  Vesper was unhappy about it but she didn’t want to spoil the mood. He seemed sorrowful enough without her pleading, so she simply nodded her head. “If you wish it.”

  “I do.”

  “Then I shall do as you ask.”

  There wasn’t much more to be said after that. Val continued to hold Vesper in his arms for a few minutes longer, knowing that they should return to the feast below before someone did, indeed, come looking for them. They’d already been gone overlong. Therefore, he kissed her gently once, twice, and sat up, pulling up his breeches and helping her smooth her skirts. There was some evidence of their activities on the back of her gown, but the fabric was dark and masked it quite well. No one would ever know of their encounter.

  But they certainly knew.

  The taste of Vesper lingered on Val’s lips. All he had to do was lift his hands and smell her on them. It was a glorious smell. As he returned her to the feasting table in the alcove where he introduced her to Tevin du Reims, all Val could think about was their tryst in the loft. It made it most difficult to focus on conversation, which he struggled to do after that. Vesper was so heavily on his mind that he couldn’t shake her.

  Marriage…

  He made up his mind as he watched Tevin make conversation with Vesper that he would marry Vesper on the morrow before they departed to Winchester. He hadn’t wanted to delay that trip but he wasn’t sure if he’d have the opportunity to marry her once he reached Winchester, if ever, so his marriage to Vesper became the priority. It was all he could think of as he watched Vesper deep into the evening, nearly ignoring everyone else at the table because of her. If Tevin and Calum and the other men didn’t realize he was in love with McCloud’s daughter, they certainly did by the end of the night.

  It was obvious.

  In fact, once Vesper had retreated to bed for the evening and McCloud wandered off to play gambling games with some of the soldiers, Val sat up with Tevin, Calum, Kenan, and Mayne to discuss what would happen on the morrow. Val made it clear that he wanted to marry the lady before he left, sending Mayne to summon a priest from the small church in the village that skirted Selborne.

  Mayne charged out in the middle of the night, knowing that time was precious, as Calum and Tevin tried to talk Val out of such an impulsive move. They were thinking of Vesper mostly, concerned that Val was acting so rashly, but the man’s mind was set. He would marry her and then he would face Henry. There w
as no convincing him otherwise.

  But the truth was that they understood his determination and, in particular, Tevin understood. He was an old man and he’d been married to his wife for many years, a woman he’d fallen madly in love with so long ago. He understood what it was like to want to marry a woman and not be able to – aye, he very much understood that need.

  So, Tevin retired to sleep a few hours before dawn, leaving Val to seek his mother and wake her up with the news that he was actually doing something she wanted for once – he was getting married. He roused Margaretha from a sound sleep to tell her many things – of his decision to marry, of the details of the plot he’d evidently been pulled into, and of his intention to face Henry on the morrow to clear his name. It had been a difficult conversation with the woman because he’d tried to spare her all he could, but the truth was that he could spare her no longer.

  She had to know.

  But Margaretha was a strong woman, something she exhibited as Val told her what had happened when he’d reached Canterbury and why Tevin du Reims had really come to Selborne. Now, much of what was going on made sense and she understood the situation. She also understood her son’s desire to marry a woman he hardly knew, although he did profess to love her.

  Margaretha wasn’t in complete approval of the marriage but Val was determined so she didn’t argue with him. Perhaps she should have; perhaps she should have even tried to stop him because she didn’t believe that he was thinking clearly, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her beautiful boy was about to face, perhaps, the worst crisis of his life and she would not make it worse by arguing the details of the life he wanted for himself. Whatever he wanted, she simply agreed with him, and Val left her chamber feeling relatively good about their conversation. At least his mother hadn’t fought him on his desire to wed Vesper. She had been remarkably stoic about the entire situation, giving him the strength to face the morrow.

  And Margaretha knew that. She may have been a shrew and a nasty old woman at times, but she knew how to choose her battles wisely. This wasn’t one she could win and she didn’t want to burden her only child with animosity between them when he was, quite possibly, facing a death sentence on the morrow. Certainly, the day would come and then they would have their answers, but until then, they were all living in apprehension.

  No one knew what the morrow would bring, least of all Val.

  Realizing that everything her son had worked for might be coming to an end, Margaretha tried to remain strong long after he had left her. She tried to tell herself that all would be well. It wasn’t even the marriage she was concerned about but Val’s future as a whole. But her attempts to be brave didn’t work; her heart was breaking for her only son. Was this to be the last of her great son, the vestiges of Valor de Nerra never to be reclaimed? She could only pray it wasn’t so.

  In the wee dark hours of the morning, Margaretha wept.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It was about an hour before dawn. The grounds of Selborne Castle were quiet for the most part as soldiers went about their rounds and the servants starting cooking fires to prepare for the morning meal. It was cold this morning, with a thin layer of ice on the ground, and smoke hung heavy in the air because of the cloud layer, causing the men on the wall walk to cough intermittently, their eyes stinging in the mist.

  In the stables against the western wall, McCloud was saddling the horse he’d borrowed from Eynsford. He also had a sack of food to take with him, provisions he’d requested from the servant who had shown him to his bed the night before. It sat on the ground by the end of the stall as McCloud prepared the horse, cleaning out the hooves by the light of an oil lamp and making sure the leather straps on the saddle were secure.

  But his movements were slow and lethargic. He moved with a heavy heart, for many different reasons. In spite of traveling with his daughter for the past two days, he wasn’t entirely sure Vesper was forgiving of his actions and he wasn’t sure she was willing to put everything behind them. Worse still, Val, who had been a close and trusted friend, wouldn’t even speak to him last night. He’d simply glared at him when he arrived and then ignored him the rest of the time, so Val’s behavior had been wearing heavily upon him.

  It hurt more than he thought it would.

  Not that he deserved the man’s friendship. He knew he didn’t. But he’d come to support Val when it seemed as if the whole of England would very soon be against the man. He was both hurt and angered that Val wasn’t willing to forgive him, a man he’d known for years, especially when Val was finding himself in a rather precarious position. He would need all the friends he could get. At least, that’s how McCloud saw it.

  Therefore, he brooded as he saddled the horse, thinking that he would simply return to Durley and try to eke out an existence there. He had nowhere else to go so returning to Durley seemed to be the best option. He would leave his daughter to Val, since the man was clearly enamored with her, and that would be the end of all things as he knew it. He would have to try and rebuild his life without his only living child or friends from long ago.

  “McCloud.”

  A deep voice pierced the darkness and McCloud turned to see Val entering the stable. His heart leapt a bit at the sight of the man, wary of his presence, hoping that Val hadn’t come here to tell him how disappointed he was in him. Nothing Val could say could be any worse than McCloud had already said to himself, so he braced himself as Val came towards him.

  “Val,” he said evenly. “You have risen early.”

  Val came into the weak light of the lamp. “I did not sleep,” he said. “I saw you come into the stable. We must speak and there was no opportunity last night.”

  McCloud sighed faintly, returning his attention to the horse. “If you’ve come to scold me, then get on with it,” he said. “Whatever you must say to me, I have earned it.”

  “I have come to speak with you about Vesper.”

  McCloud paused, looking up at him. “Oh?” he said. “What about her?”

  Val hesitated a moment before continuing. “I am going to marry her this morning, as soon as the priest arrives,” he said quietly. “I wanted you to know that.”

  “I assumed as much.”

  “You said once that you were agreeable if I courted her.”

  “I am.”

  “Then I assume you are agreeable with marriage.”

  McCloud’s gaze lingered on Val a moment, perhaps sensing more behind that statement. Perhaps Val was thinking on his current situation and his uncertain future but he didn’t want to voice such things. McCloud turned back to the horse again.

  “Val, I know of the rumors regarding you and Canterbury,” he said. “I was there when the soldiers from Canterbury Castle arrived and told Vesper of the assassination. I can only imagine that you are now in a rather precarious position because of it.”

  Val watched the man pick out the hooves of the horse. “I am going to Westminster to discuss just that very situation with Henry right after I marry your daughter,” he said. Then, he paused a moment. “You have not asked me if those rumors are true.”

  McCloud shrugged. “It is not my business.”

  “Do you believe them?”

  McCloud faltered. “I know you are a man of duty,” he said simply. “If Henry ordered you to kill Becket, then you would obey him. Do I believe you are capable of such things? I know you are. I saw what you did to my son. But if there is one thing you are not, Val, it is foolish. You are no fool. I am sure you had a very good reason for what you did.”

  “I did not do it.”

  McCloud looked at him. “Then why do men say that you have?”

  Val sighed, leaning against the wall of the stable. “Because I was sent a forged missive ordering me to arrest Canterbury. The same knights who delivered it are the ones who killed Canterbury. Now they are trying to blame me for it.”

  McCloud was looking at him seriously. “Does Henry know this?”

  “He will when I see him t
his morning. You saw the Earl of East Anglia in my hall last night? He will help defend me against Henry’s anger. McCloud, I know that you and I have had our problems over the past few weeks and I cannot say that I will ever trust you again, but you are Vesper’s father. She is to be my wife. I should like it if we could at least live peacefully.”

  McCloud wasn’t sure if he felt much hope in Val’s words but at least the man didn’t outright hate him. “I should like that as well,” he said. “Mayhap someday… someday I will earn your trust again. I am sorry to have destroyed it in the first place.”

  Val didn’t reply right away. Still leaning against the wall, he averted his gaze, staring pensively off into the dark stable. After a moment, he spoke.

  “Was it pride that kept you from coming to me when your farm dried up and you could no longer feed yourself?” he asked. “I have been trying to figure that out – what would make a man turn as badly as you did. Selborne is a day’s ride from Durley. Mayhap we are not as good of friends as I thought we were since you did not turn to me for help. I can think of no other reason.”

  McCloud was looking at the horse but not really seeing it. He was feeling a great deal of sorrow over Val’s question. He could only think of one answer.

  “I am not your responsibility,” he muttered. “It is not your duty to feed and clothe me. How weak would I have looked to you had I come crawling for help?”

  “So it was easier to permit your son to run amok, murdering at will?”

  McCloud didn’t really have an answer for him. “A man’s pride is a complex thing,” he said. “With Mat… I knew what he was doing was wrong. But he was my son. I had not the heart to punish him. It was easier to pretend he was not murdering rather than face the truth. Val, I have no real excuse to give you. All I can say is that I am sorry you have lost faith in me.”