Harlequin Historical February 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  ‘Indeed.’ Will placed his hand underneath Isabel’s so that he could take a better look at their joint endeavour. He tilted it around and examined it. ‘It does have a certain charm, though.’

  ‘In the flaws that I’ve added? Its imperfection?’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘I fear that I’ve spoiled your beautiful design.’

  He lifted her chin with one finger so he could gaze into her eyes and memorise every shade of green, amber, ochre and the striking splash of brown.

  ‘I would always rather the imperfections and flaws, Isabel.’ His lips held a faint smile. ‘And now there is a little bit of me and little bit of you imparted on this stone…for ever.’

  He watched her blink several times, her eyes filling with tears. She handed him the stone and shot up abruptly, taking a few steps away and turning her back to him, her hands on her hips.

  Hell.

  He hadn’t meant to upset her. He had wanted to…to…what exactly? Soothe her with such overblown sentimentality?

  Yet…they were words that bared his soul. Words that reminded them both that while the patterns on the etching might last for all of time, they could not…even if they wanted to.

  The truth was that he felt it, too. This overwhelming heaviness around his chest, making breathing unbearable. Knowing that tonight would be their last in the manner that they had become accustomed to on this journey. Tomorrow would bring a change and bring them closer to Castle de Clancey. The moment they would have to part.

  He moved to stand behind Isabel, brushing his hands over her shoulders and down the length of her arms before threading his fingers through hers.

  ‘I apologise, Isabel.’

  ‘Why?’ She spun around with a strained smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for.’

  His hands flexed around her waist. ‘Isn’t there? I hadn’t meant to distress you.’

  ‘You haven’t…’ Her smiled slipped from her lips and she sunk her teeth into them instead. ‘It’s just that this is all so…so difficult.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Everything is going to change.’

  ‘Yes,’ he muttered again.

  ‘What if we don’t want it to?’

  He shook his head. ‘We don’t have a choice, I’m afraid.’

  She covered her face with her hands. ‘I have always known it could come this. I have always known that it would be too dangerous for me to get close to you.’

  ‘I am a dangerous man,’ he said wryly.

  Her hands dropped to her sides and her cheeks darkened. ‘No, you’re not, Will. You’re the best man I know.’

  He wished that was true. He wished for many things that were out of his reach, but mostly he wished that he had the power to change his past and be a better man for Isabel.

  ‘Some changes can be a force for good.’ He shrugged. ‘After all, nothing ever stays the same, as you well know.

  ‘I’m not sure I’m ready for these changes, Will.’

  He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. ‘I know that in your own inimitable way, Isabel, you’ll rise up to any challenge.’

  ‘You have more faith in me than I have in myself.’

  ‘Ah, but then you have more belief in me than I have in myself.’

  He pulled away and they stood watching one another for a long moment. Every flicker of emotion passed through her eyes.

  ‘Know this, William Geraint,’ Isabel whispered as she brought up her hand to cup his jaw, caressing his face. ‘You are worthy of more than just my belief in you. You are worthy of my love, my heart. In fact, I give them freely to you.’

  Her hand shot out to cover his mouth as he opened it to speak. ‘No. Please don’t say anything.’

  Will peeled her fingers away gently, never taking his eyes off her. ‘Oh, but I must, sweetheart.’ He bent down and swooped her up in his arms, carrying her into the larger bedchamber he’d given to her to use. ‘How else would I tell you that I care for you?’ He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her softly. ‘How else would I tell you that I love you?’

  He heard her gasp and saw her eyes widen, her lips opening in response, but it was his turn to drown out whatever she had wanted to say. The time for words was no more.

  He caught her mouth again as he carried her to the bed, setting her down and lying beside her. He bent his arm and placed one hand under his head as the other caressed the soft contours of her body.

  ‘You…you love me?’ She sounded as though she had difficulty believing him.

  ‘With all my heart.’

  ‘Oh, Will…’ Her arms came around his neck, pulling him close, so that they were sharing the same ragged breath. ‘How can I ever let you go?’

  ‘You must, Isabel,’ he whispered against her lips. ‘As I shall have to let you go.’

  ‘I know. I have told myself that a thousand times, but it doesn’t make this any easier.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t.’ He ran his fingers down the velvety softness of her hair, now almost dry. ‘But we have tonight.’

  ‘Yes—’ she shifted beneath him, so that his body, his hands, his mouth were closer still ‘—we do.’

  * * *

  Words were not enough to show the extent of what Isabel felt in her heart, which pounded a deafening tattoo in her chest.

  Her overwhelming desire for Will was threatening to consume her, so much so that she began to tremble in his arms. They had hurriedly undressed one another and lay skin to skin, panting, craving with dizzying need. She wanted more of his kisses, his touches, his hands over her body, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

  She wanted to be part of him in every way. She wanted to hold on to this moment for as long as possible before it slipped away for good.

  We have tonight…

  Very well, if that was all that she could have, then she would take it, everything he had to give, and in return she would show him what he meant to her, pledging her heart and soul to him.

  She gasped as he entered her body, his midnight-blue eyes glittering above her with raw emotion, raw need. Hands touched, fingers explored, mouths tasted and they devoured. Tongues licked and tangled and, oh, heavens, wickedly sucked parts of her body that shocked her. Excited her. Teeth nuzzled as they nipped every curve, every crevice with maddening reverence.

  Isabel felt emboldened to do the same. Her fingers, hands and lips grazed a path over his taut body, the taste of him making her weak with need. Her fingers traced the bulging arms that held her, the scars on his rippled chest and along the curve of his sinewy back. She covered a vein throbbing in his neck with her mouth and nipped it gently, feeling the pulse quiver. Her hands dipped down his lower back and then to his firm buttocks, hard under her touch. She could feel the smattering of hair on his chest rub against her breasts as they slid against each other. Her back arched as he drove himself into her with languid strokes, her ripened body stretched to take him. Again, and again, quickening in pace, until a certain uncontrollable wildness took over. Something beguiling and intangible.

  Blood pumped through her veins. Her body was slick with heat, with a rush that pooled in her stomach and in her core. She felt boneless, ready to melt into nothing.

  And then it came—a feeling that was still new, still unexpected, still heart-stopping. Her breath caught, her body thrashed and burst into a thousand little pieces.

  ‘Always…’Will shuddered above her as she tried to make out the words he had whispered in her ear moments before. ‘I’ll always love you.’

  She swallowed, unable to say anything as the beat of her heart slowed, her breathing shallow. The side of her face and neck were wet, her tears pooling into her hair.

  Tears? Oh, God, how mortifying!

  ‘Isabel?’ he whispered. ‘Is anything the matter?’

  ‘No, nothing.’ She
twisted her head around as he stroked her face, wiping the last of her tears. ‘But could you do something for me? Just one more time.’

  ‘Anything.’

  ‘Kiss me.’

  Yes, Isabel would have this night to remember. She would have this night to believe that there could be wondrous possibilities that weren’t governed by what was expected of her. Even if it meant that her heart would later shatter. She would endure it. Isabel had the rest of her life to think about what she was about to lose, but not tonight.

  Tonight was for loving.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The morning did come, all too quickly, and it was an auspiciously grey and cold one at that. Will had remained with her all night, making love to Isabel once more until all that was left was sleep. She woke to find her limbs tangled with his, one arm draped over his flat stomach. She lifted herself a little to watch the slumbering man beside her. He looked so peaceful in sleep, without the worries he faced in the day, this man who made her heart soar.

  His lips curved slowly into a smile that made him ridiculously handsome. ‘You’re doing it again, Isabel, you’re staring at me while I sleep.’

  ‘You’re not asleep though, are you?’ She caressed his jaw softly, feeling the brush of stubble beneath her fingers. ‘And I don’t know how you know what I’m doing, with your eyes shut?’

  ‘It is a talent I have, among many.’

  She gasped in mock outrage. ‘We’re brazenly impudent this morning, aren’t we, my knight.’

  She squeaked as Will grabbed her by the waist and rolled her over until he was on top. ‘We are.’

  He dipped his head, slanting his soft lips over hers and kissed her opened mouthed with a restrained longing that took her breath away. He ended the kiss by pressing his lips to her cheeks, her forehead and her neck before lifting himself off to sit on the edge of the bed, his breathing coming in short bursts.

  He dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No, Isabel, it leads to more of a damnable coil for both of us.’

  His head bent forward, rubbing his forehead, ‘You, Isabel de Clancey, are hard to resist.’

  She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she sensed he was already withdrawing from her.

  ‘Come,’ he whispered softly. ‘It’s time to get up.’ He got up, wrapping a piece of linen cloth around his torso before washing from a bowl of water left on the coffer. She stayed under the coverlet, watching him as he picked up his clothing and started to dress, one garment at a time, until he put the pendant she’d given him over his head. Just as soon as he had done so, he held it in his hand and looked at it before taking it off it again, as though he was suddenly struck by something.

  He held it out. ‘Here, take it, Isabel.’

  She stood and closed his open hand over the pendant. ‘No, it’s yours.’

  ‘But it’s a family heirloom.’

  ‘That I chose to gift to you.’

  ‘Even so, you should keep it with the other one. Now that the vellum is destroyed, there is no reason why they should not be kept together.’

  ‘And yet I want you to keep it, Will. Think of it as something to remember me by. Please, I insist.’

  ‘Very well, you honour me with it, but know this—I don’t need a pendant or anything else to remember you by.’ She felt the heat emanating from his eyes before he looked away and walked towards the doorway with her little dog following him. ‘I’ll see to getting food to break our fast and, yes, for you, too, Perdu.’

  The dog jumped around his feet excitedly, following Will outside the chamber as Isabel laid down once more and stared up at the beamed ceiling with a deep sigh.

  * * *

  Will returned, bearing food that he had procured from the wife of the carpenter who had rented them the rooms, to find Isabel washed and dressed.

  ‘Your new clothes shall arrive shortly, Isabel and I hope the cloak will be warm enough as the wind is exceptionally bracing.’

  ‘You’ve been outside?’

  ‘Perdu needed to go and I had to check on a few things before we have to depart.’

  ‘Thank you—’ she gave him a weak smile ‘—for organising everything.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure, my lady…as always.’

  They sat together, eating in silence. Each passing moment brought the stark reality that this would be last time they’d be together alone. The carpenter’s wife had already informed him that her friend, Mistress Mildert, was on her way to meet them shortly, with huge excitement for her new position as companion to a lady.

  He realised Isabel was playing with her food after taking just a few bites of the roll of wheaten bread and knew that she was finding this as difficult as he was.

  ‘You’re not eating?’

  ‘I find that I have lost my appetite.’

  ‘Allow me to wrap it up, for when it may return.’

  ‘That is not necessary,’ she said, trying but failing to smile. ‘I shall see to it myself.’

  ‘Very well.’ He sighed. ‘As you wish.’

  They would still see each other for the remainder of the journey. They would remain cordial, but the familiarity—this connection between them—had to cease. It must, for both their sakes.

  ‘If there’s nothing else, I shall settle with the carpenter and then we should leave to sort out supplies and other matters.’

  Will moved to get up as her hand clasped his sleeve. ‘Wait…please? What I wish for is for you to know something.’ Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. ‘The reason I stare at you, even when you are asleep, is because…because I want to remember everything about you.’

  He screwed his eyes shut. ‘Isabel…’

  ‘You have my heart, Will. Surely that’s enough?’

  God, he hated this. The selfish part of him wanted to take her and make her his for good. But he couldn’t do it.

  ‘I’m afraid to say it’s not, sweetheart. Not for either of us.’

  ‘What if we want it be so?’

  He reached out to cup her face, his thumb stroking over her tear-dampened skin. ‘Look at me. I’m a bastard and I’ll not taint you with that.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘You have no idea of the implications once it is known that I’m not the man I was thought to be—that I’m a bastard-born son. That my name is a lie. That everything about me is a lie. The rumours, gossips and disparaging remarks made behind our backs by courtiers would bring shame on you. I won’t allow that to happen.’

  ‘Then let’s go back to Aquitaine. Run away from all of this.’

  ‘We can’t, sweetheart. We’ve come this far to get you back home. Besides, it’s time we both stopped running away.’

  ‘Then there’s no hope for us?’

  He got on his bended knees in front of her and shook his head. ‘If there was a chance—a way that I could win you—do you not think I would take it?’ He noticed every emotion swirling in her eyes before she finally gave a small nod of her head in resignation. He wanted to wrap her in an embrace, hold for a moment longer, but what would that achieve apart from prolonging all this? ‘Come, we must be away. We have a long day ahead of us.’

  * * *

  They began the final part of their journey travelling west to Somersetshire. Isabel travelled on a sturdy wagon alongside an exceptionally chatty companion and a curmudgeonly old driver. Will rode beside them, with his appointed squire who was in fact the carpenter’s younger son, and a guard he had contracted from goodness knew where.

  Although they were a ramshackle group, it was arranged with much efficiency, as most things were when organised by William Geraint. He never lacked for anything, including silver. Will would be recompensed handsomely once he delivered her safely.

  Isabel knew that was unfair, but the
y had barely had any contact and even less conversation since they had left Southampton. She knew the reason for this, but it wasn’t easy and Isabel could feel the weight of his brooding whenever she caught Will’s eyes. He remained protective of her, and courteous to a fault, seeing to her comfort along the journey, but it was clear that things were not the same between them. And it was clear that Will was pushing ahead, working tirelessly to get her back to Castle de Clancey, so that he could rid himself of this unbearable tension. A small voice inside her reminded her that he would finally rid himself of her as well.

  Isabel gave herself an exasperated shake of the head to dispel these unnecessary musings. It simply would not do to dwell on the state of her relations with Will. They had settled everything before they’d left Southampton and she would do well to remember that. More pressing was Isabel’s pending arrival at Clancey de Castle and the welcome she was likely to receive.

  Indeed, she was apprehensive about it. After all, it had been a long time since she had last seen or heard from her mother. There was no way of knowing what to expect and so she could only remain hopeful. After all, Will had been commissioned specifically by her mother to find her and bring her back. Yes, she would focus on that sign of her mother’s good judgement instead of worrying about the changes that would follow her return.

  Oh, yes…so many changes.

  With each day, she was becoming who she was supposed to be—the Lady de Clancey. It could be the heavier and more refined clothing, or the way in which she was greeted by their accommodating hosts along the way—be they farmer, blacksmith or merchant—but it was with an awed, deferential appreciation. This singular respect from people she had never met before was as odd as it was humbling and stifling. It would certainly need time to get used to.

  Will was also gradually becoming the man he had once been. He had procured new clothing: a fine linen tunic, new hose and braes, padded leather gambeson and even a soft hauberk that reflected his position. Even though he wore no particular coat of arms on his surcoat or cape, there could be no doubt that Will was anything other than the man he was—a knight. And a powerfully strong one at that. Whether he truly felt this change, however, Isabel did not know, but hoped that he did.