Emerald Knight

by Michelle M. Pillow

  Ginevra smiled and looked away. “I did naught but help Britheue push. She did the work.”

  Wolfe went to Ginevra and lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. “Still it’s a brave thing to help her.”

  As his eyes dipped to her lips, she sighed. “I’m a little tired. Mayhap we should sleep here on the floor lest I am needed again.”

  “All right,” Wolfe answered. Grabbing their fur, which he had laid by the fire to dry as Ginevra worked, he spread it over the floor. Then, kicking off his boots, he turned. Ginevra already lay on the blanket next to him. Slowly, he lowered his body next to her, wrapping an arm around her midsection to hold her close. Silently, they fell asleep.

  Britheue awoke late the next morn, sore but recovered greatly. Surprised to see two nobles lying on her floor, she got up weakly from the bed to study her newborn babe. Shaking her head in amazement, she tended her child and began preparing a meal for her guests.

  Wolfe awoke to the sound of a roaring fire. Glancing about, he gently shook Ginevra at his side. She opened her eyes and sat next to him. Then, noticing the boiling cauldron on the fire pit, she turned quickly to the bed.

  “Where--” Ginevra began with a tired yawn.

  “I think she is already awake,” Wolfe put forth as he moved to stand.

  To prove his point, the door opened and a hunched woman came waddling through. Ginevra was instantly on her feet. Going forward, she scolded, “You should be in bed.”

  The pale Britheue looked at the lady with a confused frown. “Why?”

  “Because--” Ginevra started as she waved her hand behind her. Instantly, the babe began to cry.

  Ginevra turned to the child and went to lift her from the bed. She cradled her gently in her arms.

  Again the door opened. Ginevra and Wolfe turned in surprise to see Edmund walk in. He carried two skinned rabbits and a load of firewood. Dropping the wood by the door, he handed the rabbits to Britheue. She took them hesitantly.

  “Heard ye had a wee one last night,” Edmund said.

  Britheue looked at the man in confusion. Then, nodding her head, she turned questioning blue eyes to the nobles and then back to the burly man before her.

  “It all together?” he questioned.

  Again Britheue nodded.

  “Where’s yer man?” Edmund asked.

  Ginevra rocked the calming child. She stepped closer to Wolfe. He glanced down at her in confusion. Ginevra widened her eyes and gently lifted a shoulder.

  “’E died last winter. Got drunk and fell into the creek.” Britheue ambled slowly away from him. Taking the rabbits to a small table, she laid them down.

  “Be ye lookin’ fer a new one?” Edmund asked. “I lost my wife. I could use a woman to cook fer me.”

  At that Britheue turned around. Eyeing him from head to toe, she finally turned her stern gaze to his face.

  “Ye be a sight rough,” Britheue gruffed.

  “Yea, that I be,” Edmund admitted with a chuckle. “I got a good milkin’ cow.”

  “All right. Ye can stick around fer a spell if ye want. But I make ye no promises.” Britheue turned to the rabbits. Picking up a knife, she set to work on them.

  Wolfe and Ginevra watched Edmund in amazement. A smile formed over his whiskered mouth as he grinned happily. Then, turning about, he disappeared outside.

  After a hearty meal of rabbit stew and a laughing conversation with the newly formed couple, Ginevra and Wolfe left the cottage for home. The air was cooled by the night of rain, but soon warmed with the hot sun. The countryside became more familiar to Ginevra as they neared Whetshire property.

  “How far are we from Whetshire?” Ginevra inquired. Her head lay gently along her husband’s sturdy back. They had been traveling in silence until that moment.

  “We are on Whetshire property,” Wolfe said. Nodding his jaw forward, he continued, “The castle is but an hour’s ride from here.”

  “I didn’t realize we were so close.” Stretching her hands above her head, Ginevra sighed dreamily. “The first thing I am going to do is order a hot bath.”

  “Mmm,” Wolfe grumbled. “I think I will share that bath.”

  Ginevra stiffened behind him. A curious frown started at the corners of his eyes when she didn’t answer. Time moved forward in silence marked by the steady passing of trees.

  “I didn’t mean to say that thing about Thomas.” Ginevra’s voice was soft. Wolfe sat up straight. His back became rigid with tension. The light mood they silently shared was suddenly shattered. “I wanted to tell you that before we got home. I don’t know why I said it. It was mean and insensitive and completely untrue.”

  With each of her words, Wolfe’s scowl deepened. He didn’t like her mentioning such things. He nudged Desert in the side to get him moving faster.

  “You frightened me. And you were hurting my mouth,” Ginevra tried to explain. She sighed in frustration when her words didn’t come out as she planned. “I’m sorry. I guess we just don’t know each other’s moods yet. We are, after all, practically strangers.” When Wolfe let out a low rush of air, Ginevra hurriedly added, “I know we have known each other since I was born, but only through our families. You must admit, we haven’t been around each other much.”

  She leaned over the side of the horse to peer at his face. It was hard and emotionless. His jaw worked angrily but he didn’t move. Lightly, she tried to touch his shoulder. He pretended not to feel her.

  “Wolfe?”

  “Forget it, Ginevra.” Wolfe refused to look at her. He gave Desert another kick. The stallion moved easily into a trot. With tight lips, he uttered darkly over his shoulder, “I think we might even be home in half of an hour’s time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ginevra curled her toes over the rim of the bath. Sighing in pleasure, she stretched her arms over her head before dunking under the steaming water. Pulling her locks underneath with her, she felt her long hair wrap about her in a sensual caress. Surfacing, she laid her hand gently over the edge.

  The fire burned brightly to her side, throwing her bedchamber into glowing warmth. Taking up her lavender-scented soap, she lathered it in her hands. Then rubbing the foam over her skin, she sat up straight and began gliding it over her arms and chest.

  Wolfe smiled lecherously from the closed door. He had softly knocked on her bedchamber door, but she hadn’t answered. When he pushed inside, he realized she was under the bathing water. He didn’t bother to tell her he was behind her as she began scrubbing her skin. Wolfe’s smile deepened in arousal.

  They arrived at the fortress with little talk. As soon as they were through the gatehouse, a silent truce was set between them. As they arrived, William and his father had greeted the tired couple with the news that Lady Jayne, Robert and Helena were soon to join them. Wolfe discovered later from his father that Robert and Helena were to be married at Whetshire before Robert left again with Wolfe. Wolfe still hadn’t told Ginevra that he had to leave her. His absence seemed a sore subject where she was concerned. And if they were not to have many more nights together before duty called him away, he didn’t want to spend those nights fighting. He wanted a more pleasant memory to take with him to the Holy Land.

  Quietly, he stepped across the chamber to place the tray of meat, cheese and bread he carried onto the bed. Then, leaning against the poster, he held the bottle of wine against his chest. Without making a noise, he watched her.

  The soap dripped over her chest, her back and her neck in tiny rivets. Rinsing under the water, she quickly washed her long tresses before once again taking the lavender to her legs. To Wolfe’s pleasure, she stood in the tub--glorious in her naked state.

  Ginevra ran her soapy fingers over her chest, down her flat stomach, and over the tops of her thighs. Then, as she leaned over to scrub her calves, she heard a slight moan behind her. Gasping in horror, she spun around. Her wide eyes instantly found Wolfe leaning leisurely beside her bed.

  “What are you doing in here?” she ga
sped. Trying to shield herself, she first covered her woman’s area and then her breasts. Finally, unable to hide herself from his bold stares, she sat back down in the bathing tub with a loud splash.

  “Watching,” he stated boldly. His tone was low and husky. Then, taking the bottle, he angled it toward her. “I thought m’lady would be hungry. I thought we might dine abovestairs tonight.”

  Ginevra looked to the bed, noticing the tray. Seeing his approval of her, she managed a weak smile. “You didn’t knock.”

  “Yea, I did,” Wolfe murmured. Slowly, he began walking toward her. His steps moved smoothly, like a stalking beast going after his prey. His long brown hair was wet from his recent bath, his eyes glittered mischievously, and his teeth flashed white as he grinned at her.

  Ginevra leaned her head back to look at him as he approached. She noted the clean, new undertunic he wore. The black shirt was of simple design. The laces hung loose over his chest as if he had just thrown it on. Her eyes trailed over him in appreciation. His black breeches fitted tightly like a second skin. Then, with a smirk, she realized his feet were bare.

  She rested her chin on her hands, impishly watching him from the soapy water. Wolfe stared at her for a moment before growling in manly regard. Suddenly, he turned and stalked to her dressing chamber, throwing the bottle on the bed as he passed. Ginevra watched him disappear curiously, only to see him reappear with one of her gowns.

  “Stand up,” he ordered. He carefully laid the gown on his arm.

  “Are we going somewhere?” she asked in surprise.

  “The sun will be setting soon. I thought we could go to the top of the tower to watch.” Wolfe stepped forward intently. A charming light fell over his playful features.

  Slowly, Ginevra stood. The water glistened as it ran in trails over her body. Droplets of moisture puckered on her breasts and shoulders. Wolfe tossed the gown over his head and darted to her. Catching her up in his arms, his lips found hers. With an excited moan, he kissed her. His tongue ran over her mouth tenderly, then to her shoulders and finally her awaiting breasts.

  Ginevra gasped in pleasure. His fingers slid with the aid of the water over her flesh. His warm hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her into his eager body. His mouth sucked the peaks of her breasts, the curve of her hip, the pool of her navel. He groaned, gently biting a tender nub with grazing teeth as he made his way back up. Then, licking his way along her chest to her neck, he found her small ear.

  “How you have grown into a beautiful woman, Gin,” he whispered against her throat. “More so than I could have imagined.”

  Ginevra shivered, surprised by the confession. She ran her hands into his hair, pulling his lips toward her. She peeked at his face. His eyes closed as he pulled her closer. Lifting her easily in his arms, he carried her to the bed. He laid her on the white fur.

  Tenderly, he made love to her. His hands explored the length of her body and she in turn learned every curve of him. And when they came together, their eyes met and locked in a luminous promise neither could later speak of nor understand. They reached their climax in unison. It was a glorious explosion of tender shudders and violent possession.

  Lying next to her, Wolfe uttered against her forehead after his heart slowed, “Are you hungry?”

  His words were followed by a kiss on her temple. He smiled at her.

  Ginevra murmured incoherently at his side and then giggled. Nestling closer, she leaned against his chest. Seeing the tray was still on the bed, she reached over him and grabbed some bread. She tore off a piece and set it on his chest. Doing the same with the cheese, she left the meat on the tray.

  Wolfe looked down. His chest rumbled slightly as he saw the food. Ginevra tore a bit off and stuck it in his laughing mouth. Wolfe chewed gratefully. His hands lifted to settle behind his head.

  “We’re going to miss the sunset.” She fed herself in the same manner before giving Wolfe another bite.

  Wolfe let her attend him. Swallowing, he chuckled, before admitting honestly, “Yea, we already have. But I’d rather look into your eyes than at a sunset.”

  Suddenly, Ginevra frowned. Sitting up, she pulled the coverlet around her body. The words came too easily from his lips. Wolfe leaned forward, his eyes full of questions. The food fell to the side, off his body.

  “Gin?” he asked carefully. He couldn’t help but notice the change in her.

  “I wish you wouldn’t say such things to me,” she began quietly, not looking at him. Plucking absently at the fur, she sighed. “I already know you can charm any maid you would have into your bed. Even when you were sixteen with green hair, the serving girls couldn’t keep their eyes from you. But just don’t do it with me. Don’t say sweet words just to make me more compliant to your ... whims. I’m your wife. I’m in your bed willingly. So don’t act as if I must be lured there. I’m not one of your ... your ... other women. I don’t wish to play those sorts of games. I’m not like Helewysa. Don’t turn me into another conquest.”

  “Gin, I never compared you to that awful woman,” he began in protest to her words. They landed oddly on his ears and made his insides tighten with an unfamiliar sensation. He had said such ‘sweet’ things to other women in the past. But with others it had been flattery--mere compliments as was expected by them. With Ginevra he found he meant them. The words had taken no planned effort as they left him. And, for her to take offense as he tried to lay his emotions bare, hurt him. Swallowing hard, he blankly stared at her.

  “Now, I understand that as a man you will take other women to your bed. Being as I’m a woman, you know, I’ll know no other but you. I know that I have no right to protest your ways. You have made no promises to me,” Ginevra felt her gut twitch. She couldn’t look at him. As she said the words aloud, they caused a deep pain in her chest. She refused to cry. Softly, she continued, “But, as your wife, I ask only two things of you. Don’t let me know of it. I mean don’t flaunt it before me and don’t take that servant girl Sarra to your bed. I couldn’t bear it now--after this. If you can promise me those two things, then I’ll do my best never to mention it again.”

  Wolfe sat in stunned silence. He could tell the other women bothered her, at least a bit. But she was calmly consenting to his actions. There was no jealousy coming out in her words. He would have preferred to see her crying. At least then he would have a hint that she cared about him and the guilt that riddled his chest would be founded. But she gave no emotion away. Wolfe couldn’t help but wonder if she cared for him at all.

  When he didn’t answer her, Ginevra turned hesitantly to him. “Did I make you mad with my honesty? I thought you would want honesty from me. You bid me to speak my mind to you.”

  Wolfe cleared his throat. Smiling gently, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he said, “Yea, let there be only honesty betwixt us. I wouldn’t have games with you, Gin.”

  Satisfied to some extent, she nodded. She grabbed the extra fur at the end of the bed and pulled it over his body. Then, lying next to him, she curled by his side.

  “I have a confession,” she admitted. Wolfe froze. His heart pounded--half in fear, half in hope. “Do you remember that pink flower you gave me when we were young? The one I threw aside the day you pushed me in the dye bath.”

  “Fell,” Wolfe muttered. “Yea, I remember it. You told me you didn’t like flowers.”

  “I lied,” she murmured. “I even went back to get it later. I hid it in my room so no one would see it. But it rotted and stuck to a gown in my trunk and mother threw it away.”

  Wolfe chuckled. Pulling her hair tenderly back from her cheek, he cradled her on his arm. Absently playing with a strand of her blonde hair, he thought of the necklace he had given her. It was still in his trunk. Seriously, he stated, “It seems you like to make a habit of throwing my gifts back at me. I would’ve sent you more over the years, but I never knew what to buy. It hardly seemed proper to send my lady wife a sword.”

  “I would’ve loved a sword. Robert gave me pearls on
ce and a packet of ribbons.” Ginevra smiled in memory. She ran her hand to stroke his chest. “It’s the only necklace I own.”

  Ginevra froze, suddenly remembering the necklace of sparkling diamonds he had left for her. Over the years she’d regretted her rash actions in sending it back to him. Lifting her head, she looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry I--”

  Wolfe lifted a finger and shook his head. “It’s all right, Gin. Let us start afresh, here and now.”

  Ginevra nodded. Her heart skipped frantically in her chest. His eyes shone with an emotion she couldn’t read. Pulling his arm free, he moved to the edge of the bed. Standing, he went over to the fire and threw another log onto it.

  Ginevra watched the movements of his perfect form in awe. He was so bravely handsome, carved as if from living stone. And he walked with bold confidence, unashamed by his nakedness. Her mouth became dry as she watched him. The firelight haloed his naked body in orange light. Her insides trembled. Her heart squeeze and she was forced to glance briefly away.

  Wolfe turned to her. He smiled, standing proud. Crossing over to his discarded clothing, he knelt by his breeches. He reached inside to a pouch that was looped onto his belt. Evenly, he said, “I have something for you. I was going to give it to you as we watched the sunset, but I think now is perfect.”

  Ginevra sat up. She hugged the coverlet over her breasts. Wolfe studied her for a moment. His eyes took in the flushed line of her cheeks and her gently tousled hair as it dried about her shoulders. The soft glow of firelight echoed off her skin, giving the smooth cream of her flesh a warm radiance. Wolfe felt his heart stop, knowing that the image of her now--like this--would forever be with him. It would be the image to keep him warm on cold nights on the battlefield. It would be the light that saved him in the darkness of war. And, for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to leave home. He didn’t want to go to the Holy Land to fight heathens. For the first time, he doubted his path.