by Aston, Alexa
Too many intangibles still stood in the way, though. Faylinn could bear the next Baron of Gaynesford and be forced to wed a man of the king’s choice. Or her brother might take an instant dislike to Drake and thank him for escorting Faylinn to Newbury Manor and then dismiss him. More importantly, just because he wished to wed her didn’t mean he should. He had no estate. No funds. He was but a lowly knight. She was highborn and an incredible beauty and deserved far more than he would ever be able to give her.
If only he could taste her once more . . .
Would that be enough?
He already knew the answer.
He heard the cloth briskly moving as she dried herself. Surely, this torture would soon be over.
“Would you care to bathe now, Drake?” she asked, her voice husky, sending shivers through him.
He turned and saw her standing in nothing but her chemise. The thin material left little to his imagination. Her soft, womanly curves and full breasts were easily detected. He gazed at her, longing to run his hands along them.
“I would,” he said suddenly. “You’ll need to stand where I am.”
Her bottom lip jutted out in a slight pout. “Could I not sit on the bed? I’m tired.”
“You may lie down if you wish. I know we’ve spent long days in the saddle.”
He moved to the narrow bed while she went to the other side and, together, they turned back the bedclothes. He inspected them briefly, seeing nothing scurrying in them. She slipped into the bed, her chemise riding up to reveal trim ankles and beautifully shaped calves which disappeared as she pulled the bedclothes over her.
“I promise I’ll keep my eyes closed,” she told him and deliberately squeezed them shut.
“I should hope so.”
But a part of him hoped she wouldn’t. That her desire for him would force her to look.
Drake unbuckled his sword and stripped quickly, tossing his clothes into a heap on the ground and easing into the water, which was still warm.
“Ah,” he sighed, enjoying the warmth.
“I know,” Faylinn said from nearby. “It felt heavenly.”
He did his best to ignore that she lay only a few feet from him and took the cake of soap, rubbing it between his hands in order to work up a lather. He coated himself and chuckled, realizing he splashed as much as she did.
“Is bathing humorous?” she asked.
He glanced toward the bed but saw she lay on her side, the covers pulled so high he couldn’t even see her face.
“Sometimes,” he said mysteriously.
“I left half the water in the bucket for you to rinse,” she added.
“That was thoughtful of you.”
“You think of my comfort all of the time, Drake. I wish I could do more for you.”
He finished with his bath, deliberately avoiding touching his cock. He didn’t want to encourage it in any way. It sometimes had a mind of its own. As he washed, he recited his knightly code in his head, trying to focus on anything but his delectable companion within arm’s reach from him. Rinsing as much soap from him as he could in the tub, he then stood and poured the remaining clean water over him. The servant had only brought one cloth to dry with. It was damp but better than nothing. As he used it, he tried not to think of it passing over Faylinn’s smooth skin.
Quickly, Drake dressed again and asked softly, “Are you still awake?”
“I am,” she murmured from under the bedclothes.
“I will sleep against the door. No unwanted visitors will surprise us.”
“Would you like the pillow?”
“No. You keep it.”
With that, Drake picked up his sword. He took a few steps and turned, planting his back against the door and sliding against it until he reached the ground. He rested the sword next to him and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come.
Along with dreams of Faylinn d’Albert.
Chapter Fifteen
Something awoke Drake. His eyes flew open. His hand went to his sword. He listened and heard only silence in the darkened space.
That wasn’t right. He should at least hear Faylinn breathing.
He rose and took a few steps toward the bed. Drawing near, she stirred and then her breath came rapidly. Then she whimpered. That was the sound that had disturbed his sleep. The whimpers grew and finally she cried out in distress, throwing the bedclothes back as she sat up.
“You’re all right,” he told her, kneeling beside the bed and placing his hands on her slender shoulders. “You had a nightmare. That’s all.”
Though he couldn’t see her in the dark, the candle having gone out, he felt her trembling beneath his hands. Drake stood and sat on the edge of the bed, one hand slipping down her back and stroking it in comfort. She turned into his chest and sobbed. He brought his other arm about her, holding her close so that she would know she was safe.
“It was Sabelina,” she said, her words partially muffled because she spoke into his chest. She must have realized that because she lifted her head. “She was chasing me. Telling me she would kill me and my babe. I ran and ran but I couldn’t get away from her. Somehow, I found myself on the wall-walk. No one was there. She came toward me, menacingly. She told me she would push me and that the ground would soak up my blood.”
“Faylinn, it was merely a bad dream,” he said, his hand smoothing her hair and finally cupping her cheek. “Sabelina is far from us. She has no idea where you are. She cannot hurt you. I am here. I will be here for as long as you need me.”
“What if I told you that I will always need you, Drake?” she asked quietly.
His thumb caressed her cheek as desire shot through him. “I need you, too, my lovely Faylinn.”
His mouth sought hers and their lips meet in a gentle kiss. One kiss begat another, each growing more insistent. She opened to him and he slid his tongue inside, tasting the woman he dreamed of every night and longed for during all his waking hours. Faylinn’s arms went about him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her tongue answering his call.
They kissed for long minutes, the urgency growing between them. Drake knew he should stop—and couldn’t. Faylinn was in his blood. With every kiss, his need for her grew greater. Her fingers combed through his hair, causing his scalp to tingle pleasantly. He broke the kiss and trailed his lips along her cheek and then across her jaw, feeling her arms tighten about him.
One more kiss, he promised himself and returned to her rosebud mouth, knowing he would have to be the one who put an end to things. Finally, he pulled away.
“We cannot do this anymore, Faylinn,” he told her, his breathing ragged. “I desire you too much.”
She placed her palms alongside his face. “I am free, Drake. I have no husband. I want to be yours, more than anything.” She chuckled. “It’s not as if you could leave me with child.”
He did want to make her his, though his mind warred with his heart. Though he longed to make love to her, it seemed wrong, especially since she carried another man’s child within her womb. Still, he wanted to give her something of himself and make a memory for the two of them, one which time could never take away.
He took her mouth again and kissed her long and deep, branding her as his. Easing her back to the mattress, he hovered over her as his lips moved from her mouth to her throat, his tongue finding where her pulse beat rapidly and circling the beating point repeatedly. He nipped at it, causing little whimpers to rise from her, and then soothed the love bites with his tongue.
His fingers entwined with hers and pressed her hands to her sides as he moved lower, finding her breast. Though the chemise stood between them, the thin material left little protection from his onslaught. He drew her breast into his mouth, his tongue running across her raised nipple, his teeth grazing it. Faylinn moaned and bucked against him. He lavished attention on the other breast, her breathing growing rapid and shallow. Then he released her hands.
Immediately, her fingers pushed into his hair and brought his mouth to he
rs for long, drugging kisses. He allowed her to take the lead for a few minutes and then reclaimed it, capturing her wrists and pinning them above her head with one hand. She wriggled beneath him as he brought his other hand beneath her chemise, skimming up her leg and then stopping at her nether curls. Slowly, he slid a finger along the seam of her sex and she gasped.
“What are you doing?”
She tried to free her wrists but he continued his light but firm grasp.
“What would you like me to do?” he asked as he lazily ran his finger back and forth along the seam.
“Oh!” she cried.
“Do you like that, Faylinn?”
“Yes,” she managed to say as she writhed beneath him.
Drake slowly pushed a finger inside her and she drew in a quick breath.
“What are you doing, Drake?”
She acted as if she didn’t know what would come next—and then he realized she may not. Lord Amaury had been decades older than Faylinn. He might have been selfish, as some men were, and not prepared his young wife properly before mounting her.
He stroked her and she moaned. He inserted another finger and continued to love her with both. She moved against his hand, her breathing quick.
“I . . . I feel . . . something,” she said, barely managing to get the words out.
“Go with it, sweetheart.”
“Go where?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice.
“Wherever it takes you. I’ll be your guide,” he promised.
Drake continued caressing her and, suddenly, she began trembling all over.
“That’s it. Give over to the feeling.”
“I don’t know how,” she said, her voice small.
“Your body knows. Trust it.”
As his fingers pleasured her, he kissed her deeply. She cried out into his mouth and her body quivered beneath him. He broke the kiss and allowed her to experience the orgasm fully. She finally stilled. He released her wrists and she grasped his tunic and yanked him to her, kissing him with enthusiasm.
She broke the kiss and asked, “What was that? I’ve never felt those feelings before. Amaury didn’t kiss me or touch me in such a way. He would merely have me stroke his cock until it grew hard and then place it in me.”
Not wanting to disparage his former liege lord, Drake said, “There are many ways to engage in love play. That is but one.”
Faylinn kissed him again. “I like it. Quite a bit. But what about you? I must return the favor and make you feel as I did.”
He gave her a soft kiss. “Knowing I pleasured you is enough, sweetheart.”
“No,” she said insistently. “I want to help you. I can stroke your cock. You can put it in me.”
It sounded heavenly but Drake couldn’t allow that to occur. Already, he’d lost too much of himself to this woman. If their bodies joined together as one, he might never be whole again.
“No, Faylinn,” he said firmly.
“You’re behaving too much as a gentleman, Drake.”
He chuckled. “Not when it comes to you. It takes everything within me to keep my hands off you, Faylinn.”
“What if I want them on me?” she asked seductively and captured his face in her hands, drawing him back for more kisses.
Finally, he put a stop to it. “We cannot do this again.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Your future is up in the air. I do want to be with you, Faylinn, but it may be impossible. A boy means you’ll return to Mallowbourne and the king will send someone to be your husband and help you manage the estate and raise the young baron.”
“I could be carrying a girl,” she reminded him, hope tinging her voice. “Then we could both remain at Ashby’s. I’m sorry you won’t be welcomed back to Mallowbourne, Drake. You’ll never be captain of the guard there. But it might be possible at my brother’s estate.”
He heard her sniffle. “Are those tears?”
“Yes. For you. I’m sorry I went and ruined your life, Drake.”
As she began to cry, he gathered her in his arms and comforted her.
“No tears, Faylinn. And no worrying about me—or anything else. It’s not good for the babe for you to be so upset.”
He wouldn’t address the fact that he wasn’t worthy of her. That even if she bore a daughter, she would need to wed a man who could give her far more than he ever could.
“Go to sleep,” he ordered and released her. “We won’t speak of this again.”
She reached out, clinging to him. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll only be a few feet away, Faylinn.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Stay with me, Drake. At least for tonight.”
He gave in to her demand and lay beside her. She nestled against his chest as his arms enfolded her.
Drake would allow himself this one night to hold Faylinn.
And pray for strength when the time came to let her go.
*
Faylinn awoke, smothered in warmth. Drake’s front pressed to her back, his arm snug about her waist. She relished the feel of him draped around her, aware of his masculine scent with every breath she drew.
Last night had been an eye-opening experience.
When he’d grasped her wrists and held them over her head, she’d felt vulnerable and exposed, her breasts jutting out. Then he’d touched her sex, teasing her, driving her to the point of madness. His fingers had done as his tongue, thrust and toyed with her until she was pushed to some unknown precipice. Faylinn had toppled over it with Drake’s encouragement and the overwhelming rush of emotion as she reached a pinnacle of pleasure had been intense and gratifying. She had no idea her body could be coaxed into such spasms, much less how enjoyable they could be.
But he hadn’t wanted her to help him reach such a wonderful state. Instead, he had all but slammed the door on any future they might have together. She knew why. Drake Harcourt was a proud man. Though a knight, he held no noble title and possessed no estates. He would think that was something she was interested in. She wasn’t. Faylinn only wanted him as a man. A companion. A lover and friend. A husband who would grow old with her. Give her more children. They could live their lives in love.
If he could put aside his foolish pride.
She wouldn’t mention the hopes of a future together—for now. Better to wait until they arrived at Ashby’s and hope that her brother would allow Drake to remain in some capacity. It would also depend upon the gender of the babe in her slightly bulging belly. She hated remaining in limbo until the birth of her child but the babe and its future must always come first. Her duty lay in keeping the babe safe and giving it all the love she had.
Even if that meant returning to Mallowbourne and wedding a stranger that would help her raise her son.
Once again, Faylinn begged the Virgin Mary to allow a girl to spring forth from her. A daughter would mean Faylinn had a chance of a future with Drake. A son would end all prospects—and the chance of happiness with the man she loved.
She closed her eyes again, wishing she could hold the new day at bay and remain forever in this bed, wrapped in Drake’s arms.
Chapter Sixteen
Sabelina had decided to make the solar her own. When the Mallowbourne soldiers brought Faylinn back to the keep, she wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy it anyway. Sabelina had visions of Faylinn chained in the dungeon, thinking it the most appropriate home for her stepmother. It brought a smile to her face.
She only wished she had been able to handpick the men who rode out after Faylinn and Sir Drake. Sir Stephen had been so appalled by Sabelina’s story of Faylinn’s madness and Drake Harcourt’s betrayal of his knightly code that he had rushed to put together a search party to ride across England and bring the pair back. Before she could even suggests adding a few men of her choosing, the knights had ridden from Mallowbourne. Still, her captain had sent their best knights in this endeavor. Once her stepmother came home, Sabelina would make sure the vile woman died. She believed using Sir
Drake as her scapegoat would work. There would be no way he could disprove he was the father of Faylinn’s babe. Those at Mallowbourne would know Faylinn hadn’t conceived a child in all her years here. Sabelina’s word would be believed. She was a noblewoman and would soon be Baroness of Gaynesford, once the king sent her a husband.
She recalled how her father complained about the king being slow to answer his missives. Faylinn had tried to smooth over her husband’s fury, telling Amaury that many men sought the king’s ears on a variety of matters. Sabelina counted on word of the state of affairs at Mallowbourne taking time to reach Edward. The longer it took for the king to read Sabelina’s missive and act upon it, the more time she had to resolve things to her own satisfaction.
“I don’t feel right about this, my lady,” Resa complained as she folded another of Faylinn’s cotehardies and placed it in an open trunk. “Lady Faylinn—”
“Lady Faylinn isn’t here, Resa,” Sabelina said sharply. “I am. The king will name someone he trusts as Baron of Gaynesford and I will become his wife and baroness to all at Mallowbourne. Watch your words, old woman. Get used to me overseeing the keep or you’ll find yourself working out in the fields from now on.”
The servant dropped her eyes to the ground. “Yes, my lady.”
Sabelina had begged Sir Stephen not to reveal what she’d shared with him about Faylinn’s condition so Resa had no idea that the baroness was with child. Sabelina made sure that no one was told of the mission the four soldiers had been sent on. She let it be assumed after she dropped a few hints that Sir Drake had been appointed to escort Lady Faylinn back to her childhood home. Of course, Faylinn had been most beloved by the people and there had been some grumbling about the mysterious circumstances of her departure. Even Resa questioned why Faylinn had left most of her possessions behind. Sabelina made it known gossip would not be tolerated by having a servant she caught discussing the matter whipped. After that, talk of Faylinn had died down.
