Harlequin Historical February 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it gently before pulling away, his fingers tracing her wet, swollen lips, over and over. He pushed himself up, supporting his weight with his arms. ‘Isabel?’ His whispered voice rumbled low, reverberating through her body. Her eyes flickered open in response, meeting his gaze.

  She shuddered, as she felt Will’s hand brush down the length of her body slowly, in a long sweeping motion, touching every dip, and curve, his mouth following the trail, reverently.

  His fingers reached the fabric ties around her waist, holding up the braes—his braes—that she was wearing. He worked, expediently, tugging and pulling to open the knot, but then stopped abruptly, panting as his fingers hovered, curling over and under the fabric. He gave his head a swift shake and leant back.

  ‘We must stop this now, before it goes any further,’ he rasped.

  She kept her eyes pinned to his, as her own breathing came in quick bursts.

  How could she have known that her innocent kiss would ignite this feverish need? Nothing had ever felt like this—no sensation had ever matched this wonder.

  But she wanted more.

  She answered him by dragging her hand over to the knotted cord of his braes, undoing his ties and pulling them open, in just the same way he had done. She watched as he blinked several times and his throat worked, swallowing in apparent discomfort.

  * * *

  Will had not been expecting this response. All of his tantalising attentions had been a way to satisfy some raw need in her, in the hope that it would persuade her to stop this explosive connection between them. It had had the opposite effect on her instead.

  Her hand slowly began to push his braes down his hips. His eyes widened in shock as his hand moved quickly to cover hers.

  ‘Isabel?’

  ‘Please…’ Her other hand snaked around his neck, pulling his face close to hers. She lifted her head and kissed him open mouthed. ‘Don’t stop.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Daylight broke through the cracks of the wooden walls, gleaming against the dark surfaces of the chamber, creating haphazard streaks of light in every direction.

  Will opened his eyes and blinked, stifling a yawn. His hands searched the surface of the pallet, but found only a residual lingering warmth. Sitting up abruptly on the pallet, naked and alone, memories from the previous evening tumbled through his head, making him groan out loud.

  Hell!

  What had he done?

  He shouldn’t have done it—he shouldn’t have allowed the spark of intimacy between them to become the scorching flame that it had. He was the one with the experience, after all, not Isabel, and he should have curtailed things before they had both lost all sense and reason…as they had. He should never have kissed her the way he had, tasting and touching her as he explored her body, eager to learn every secret part of her.

  Isabel might not have been able to control her ardour, but Will should have shown far more resolve. He should have resisted her and not given in to weakness.

  God, what a fool he had been!

  Isabel had been hurt, confused and full of regret about the disturbing events of the previous evening. She needed his comfort, assurance, someone to lean on, yet she got a lot more for her troubles.

  He had no right, damn it! He had no right to her at all! Yet, she had stirred feelings in him that he just didn’t comprehend. They were new, unwelcome and utterly objectionable for a man who was half of what he used to be.

  Isabel deserved better, much better than him.

  He sighed as he jumped off the pallet, raking his fingers through his hair. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the neatness of the chamber. It had been cleared. Even his clothes had been folded on the table, along with his flagon and a small plate of food—the last remnants of their supplies. A few dry purple petals—from her medicinal stash, no doubt—had been placed beside it, decorating the table with a flash of colour.

  He smiled to himself at her tender thoughtfulness as he began to get dressed.

  * * *

  Will dipped under and around branches of hardy trees that concealed the wooden hut, along the pathway littered with of long blades of grass that jutted out from the sand intermittently. He continued down the undulating sand dune that led directly to the long stretch of sandy beach and saw Isabel playing with the little dog, in the distance.

  A flash of memory darted through his head as he recalled happier times as a young lad when they had moved close to the Norfolk coastline. His father—rather, stepfather—had finally been accepted to join the Stonemasons’ Guild and their family had moved to be near him as he assisted the Master Mason on a new church. For the children it had been wonderful, after living in the confines of London, to live in so much open space with the sense of freedom it brought them, even for a short time.

  It wasn’t long after that that Will moved away from his family to start his training as a squire with Sir Percival Halstead. He should have known, not then, but later, mayhap, that it was not the normal way of things for a young boy to be plucked from an ordinary family without any consequence to train with a celebrated knight. It was a rarity. Will always knew he was different from all of his siblings, who had their father’s colouring. So, it came as no real surprise when his mother admitted that he was not Matthew Geraint’s natural son, but the nobleman Guy, Lord de Manville. Yet the truth had still been bitter to swallow, even though it at least explained his stepfather’s lack of interest and utter disdain for him, why nothing Will ever did could please the man.

  Will gave himself a mental shake and returned his gaze to the scene before him. It struck him that he was taking Isabel back to what remained of a family which had all but given up on her, as he had freely forsaken his own. God, but he hoped that her transition into her new role would be smooth, that she was spared the pain of the loneliness and heartbreak that had become his constancy.

  Which, of course, wasn’t helped by the fact that he had bedded her when he should have kept her at a safe distance—for her sake and for his.

  His eyes roamed over Isabel. She was wearing his braes again, along with his favourite dark blue tunic, which was far too big for her. Grinning, she twisted, turned and skipped around as the little dog jumped at her feet, barking merrily and trying to get the wooden stick from her hand as waves lapped at her bare feet.

  The light sea breeze played with her glorious gold-and-honey-coloured hair, which she had tried in vain to tie up. Stray tendrils fell and danced across her face as she ran and laughed with such free abandon, chased by her four-legged friend.

  His chest clenched tightly…

  God, but she was lovely. She was everything joyous and wondrous in the world.

  He remembered how, only a short time ago, he was running his fingers through her hair, feeling its softness against his skin, taking in the heady floral scent. It had cascaded in soft waves over the curve of her shoulders, down her back to skim her waist as she had sat in front of him, baring her nakedness.

  Isabel noticed him then and she lifted her head, meeting his eyes. Her small smile was shy as she held up her hand in greeting, her cheeks tinting a deeper blush colour that spread across and down her neck.

  He returned her smile, keeping his eyes pinned to hers as he continued to amble towards her.

  Will might have no right to her, but he’d be damned if he regretted his night with Isabel de Clancey. He shouldn’t have done it. It would have been better if he hadn’t, but regret their intimacies? That he could never do. Besides, hadn’t he told her just hours ago not to hold on to regrets?

  Yet, how to proceed?

  ‘Well met, my lady.’ He bent low to stroke the excitable dog dancing at his feet. ‘I hope to find that you’re well rested.’

  ‘Good morrow and, no, not so much. How about you?’

  ‘Aye.’ He straight
ened his spine to stand to his full height, looking down at her. ‘But not enough.’

  She looked everywhere but at him. ‘And have you broken your fast?’

  ‘Yes, my thanks for what you left behind…and also for these…’

  Will opened his hand to reveal the purple petals that she had decorated the table with and watched as her colour deepened.

  She shrugged. ‘Just a little fanciful whimsy.’

  ‘Which was gratefully appreciated.’

  She looked everywhere but at him again.

  ‘You’ve got a little sand on your face there. No, not there…’ He reached out and brushed it off.

  They descended into an uncomfortable silence as they both pondered what to say next. The hypnotic sound of waves filled the quietness as it ebbed and flowed, dousing the sand. Thank God the sea was calm for their pending sea voyage today.

  Eventually he broke the silence. ‘Isabel… About last night?’

  She turned to walk. ‘Not now.’

  He followed her as she strolled along the beach, kicking up the sand with the dog at her heel. ‘Wait, my lady. This is something that I have to say,’ he said, pushing a mop of hair out of his eyes. ‘We still have many weeks ahead of us before we reach Castle Clancey.’

  ‘Your point being?’

  ‘The point is that I… I hope to avoid any awkwardness between us because of what happened last night.’

  She huffed in apparent agitation. ‘Shall we leave what happened last night in the past?’

  He stilled her, catching her by the elbow. ‘Isabel?’

  She lifted her head and met his eyes, a crease on her forehead. ‘As you said last night, what’s done cannot be undone.’

  She picked up a stick and threw it for the dog, who scampered after it.

  ‘I don’t want to deny what happened, nor do I regret anything,’ he said softly. ‘But you are a noble lady and I’m… I’m someone of no consequence. I should not have taken advantage of you.’

  ‘Would you listen to yourself, Will? Can you not accept that we both…took advantage of one another in a moment of need?’

  He rubbed his forehead, smoothing away a frown.

  God, this was not going well at all. And once again he’d inadvertently insulted her.

  Hell!

  Yet it could not be helped. Isabel was not his. They had shared a fleeting moment—a brilliant burst of wonder and ephemeral joy shining brightly. Yet it had all but dimmed now.

  They would eventually go their separate ways once he had safety escorted her back where she belonged. She would have her life and he would have his.

  ‘Yes, well… I agree, my lady. We should be getting back. I believe we must ready ourselves for the journey today.’

  No, Isabel de Clancey was not his and she never would be.

  * * *

  She hadn’t known what to expect from Will after the night they had shared, but it wasn’t this.

  Saints above!

  The man was positively infuriating, trying to take all the blame for what happened between them as though he hadn’t given her the decision to make. Why did he have to be so honourable, so noble about it? Why did he have to constantly castigate himself?

  Isabel sighed and threw a frustrated glare at Will as they walked back to the wooden dwelling together.

  The truth was that she had wanted him—wanted those, oh, so delicious intimacies that they had shared. She might now suffer a dose of embarrassment, but she felt no shame about what she had done, even though the general belief was that she should for her wanton, sinful behaviour. But she didn’t—she had no regrets.

  At least Will felt the same about that. But to believe that he was somehow unworthy or had somehow taken advantage of her made Isabel want to scream. Her hands clenched into fists at her side when she pondered why men got such ridiculous notions into their heads. She was torn between kicking him in his unmentionables or wrapping him in a warm embrace.

  The little dog barked beside her playfully and she felt a slight tug at the corners of her lips.

  ‘Whatever am I supposed to do with you, Perdu?’ she murmured absently. ‘You know I can’t take you back with me, boy.’

  Will slid her a quick glance. ‘I can always ask the man who brought us here if he can look after him, or knows of someone who possibly could?’

  ‘That would be most appreciated.’ The dog gave her a mournful look as though he understood that they were discussing him. ‘You may be lost, Perdu, but you don’t belong to me and, unfortunately, I don’t belong to you.’

  He barked several times, following them before dashing out ahead, grabbing a stick between his teeth proudly and coming straight back to drop it at their feet while wagging his tail expectedly.

  ‘No, we have to go,’ she said quietly as she bent to stroke the little dog. She straightened her back and swallowed uncomfortably as she caught Will’s eyes. There was a brief spark of emotion in the depths of his blue eyes, that somehow reflected every shade of the sea, before he masked over whatever had been there.

  The truth was that Isabel was glad that her first time had been with Will—that she had chosen him. It had been unforgettable to finally see what lay beneath his mask, to find someone so passionate, warm and full of vitality. He had been so unbelievably tender, so incredibly caring. Yet she had no expectation of Will, knowing full well that once she’d claimed her birthright their worlds would be incompatible and wildly different.

  But the thought that she would never see him again once their journey ended filled her with a terrible ache somewhere quite close to her heart.

  This wouldn’t do, she really must banish such thoughts, just as Will had done, and not allow her feelings for him to grow any further. She had to protect herself as she always had—it would only cause her pain otherwise.

  They arrived back at the hut in silence and Isabel changed back into her dress and kirtle behind a flimsy wooden screen. She packed her meagre belongings and the Templar associate from the previous night came to accompany them back. Isabel took one last glance at the room and followed the men out.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Isabel had never seen a vessel as large and sturdy as the Templars’ merchant ship, La Fortuna. The inclement weather of the past few days meant that it had been delayed in making its sea voyage, but it seemed that fortune was finally shining on them, as the ship was ready to set sail. Isabel looked up in awe at the sleek white sail with the red Templar cross emblazoned on it as it swayed slightly in the light breeze.

  Huge barrels of cargo—wine, grains, and expensive spices that the Templars traded with, as well as many barrels of spring water, and food supplies—dried fish, meat and bread—had been loaded for the voyage.

  Isabel sighed deeply as she realised that the last time that she had seen a vessel this imposing was the journey she had made, as a child, to this very port. And now, as a fully grown woman, she was returning back home.

  Home?

  Is that truly where she was going? Somewhere that she would finally belong?

  She swallowed down her doubts, hoping and praying that she would.

  Eventually it was their turn to board the ship and Isabel bent low to pat the dog that had attached himself to her.

  ‘Well, Perdu, I’m afraid it’s time to say farewell.’ Isabel stroked his black and white fur. She got up and straightened her spine, handing the little dog to someone who had been found to look after him. ‘Be good, little one, I wish you well in your new home.’

  Isabel and Will followed the skipper along the wooden plank to board the vessel as he explained the different parts of his newly built cog ship proudly.

  In the end, however, Perdu made the decision that he did, in fact, belong to Isabel, despite all her protestations to the contrary, and before La Fortuna could embark on its long voyage to England, the little do
g raced to the plank and fearlessly rushed across. It jumped down on to the deck, wagging its tail at Isabel in defiance.

  ‘Oh, you are very badly behaved, Perdu,’ she said, picking the dog up and snuggling it close as Will chuckled, shaking his head. ‘But I’m glad you’re coming with us.’

  They were taken to the stern of the ship, underneath the huge raised platform of the aft castle, where a makeshift area for Isabel to stay had been accommodated. Here, a space had been created for her to dwell behind a hanging fabric screen, to provide further privacy. The space had been arranged with her comfort in mind, with a large threadbare rug on the floorboard, a small coffer set against the back and large bolsters and cushions scattered on the floor as well as a mattress with blankets made from hides and pelts to provide warmth.

  Will pushed the fabric screen aside and ushered Isabel and Perdu inside. ‘I hope this will suffice for the voyage, my lady?’

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded with a smile that seemed a little brittle on her lips. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Good’ he said, not meeting her eyes. ‘And as agreed, please stay here for the duration of the journey, unless you need to stretch your legs. I can then accompany you for a brisk walk.’

  ‘No need to worry about me, or whatever I may need. I’m sure I can think of something.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t, Isabel,’ he ground out. ‘We agreed with the Templars that you would keep away from the seamen and the rest of the crew. They’re not used to women on board.’

  ‘And you? Do I need to keep away from you as well?’

  He exhaled, barely concealing his chagrin. ‘I shall bid you good day until later, when I shall bring you some light repast,’ he said, ignoring her question. ‘Until then, I hope you find everything here to your comfort.’ He bowed before leaving her alone with Perdu.

  The dog barked a few times at her and she nodded. ‘Yes, I know. So much for attempting to avoid any awkwardness.’

  * * *