She sat back in her chair, giving him a smile. “I was also looking forward tae dining with ye, Charles. I have missed ye.”
Her words went straight to his heart, but he would not let her know how much he had also missed her. “If we can manage it, mayhap we can take a stroll on the battlements after we eat. I understand the moon is full this eve.”
She took a hold of his hand underneath the table and gave it a squeeze. “I would love tae walk with ye in the moonlight, Charles, if we can manage tae escape my brother’s notice.”
He began to eat, and they conversed about whatever came to mind. As far as Charles was concerned, the meal could not end fast enough to suit his desire to be alone with Freya.
There was a briskness to the evening air once Charles and Freya left the turret stairs and walked toward the battlement wall. She clung to his arm, hoping to find some of his warmth, but her shiver must have alerted him that she was cold. He quickly pulled off his cape and fastened the garment over her shoulders. She breathed in the scent of the man who had always held her off balance since they first met.
He pulled her into his arms. “You are cold,” he said. “With winter soon upon us, mayhap this was not such a good idea.”
“I am better now,” she cooed as his warmth spread to her. Her arms wound around his waist, and she rested her head against his chest. “I dinnae want tae go back inside. Can we not stay awhile?”
“Perchance for a bit. I do not wish you to get sick from my foolishness to have you to myself. Your brother will have my head if you come to harm.”
She giggled before snuggling closer, and his arms tightened around her. “I would never allow him tae harm ye, Charles. Ye must know that.”
Warm fingers took her chin and lifted her face so he could peer into her eyes. “Aye. I suppose I do, Freya.”
“Do ye forgive me?”
“For what?” he asked, already knowing what she referred to.
“For defying ye, of course.”
He bent down to steal a quick kiss. “You know I have, or you would not be with me now.”
“Charles…” His name on her lips held the promise of what could be if only they could start again.
“You know not what you do to me, Freya.” His voice was strained as though he struggled within himself. When she saw him leaning down again, her heart rejoiced.
His lips took possession of hers while his tongue darted into her mouth. At first startled, he began to coax her until she followed his lead. She must have done something right, for she heard his low moan. His hands cupped her cheeks, tilting her head so he had full access to what she freely offered him. This was Charles, the man she loved. She would have given all of herself to him, if he would have allowed it, and with no regrets afterward.
He deepened their kiss, and a soft moan burst from her like a spring flower opening up for the sun. He awakened a part of her that Freya never knew existed. Her arms rose up and around his neck. She pressed her body into his, all sense lost where Charles was concerned.
Another desperate gasp sounded as her eyes opened and she realized his manhood was pressed against her trembling body. Meeting his gaze, he seemed to be waiting for her to tell him to stop. Instead, she urged him to resume his kiss. Crushed into his arms, her mind spiraled out of control knowing Charles, her Charles, was at last telling her in his own way how much he truly cared for her. She never wanted to let him go.
“It appears, Lord Douglas, that another has already made his claim to your beautiful sister.”
The sound of Roland’s voice tore them apart. With a heaving chest, Freya stared into the angry eyes of her brother who stood close enough that she could see his fists at his sides. She placed herself in front of Charles as if this alone would protect him from Douglas’s wrath. Before she could make any explanations, Roland continued. He was not amused.
“You will, of course, understand why I must withdraw my offer of a possible marriage to Lady Freya.”
“Marriage?” she shouted, taking a step toward the overly-confident rogue. “Ye barely know me? How can ye think tae make me yer wife?”
Roland shrugged. “’Twould have been an amicable arrangement. I enjoyed our conversations today and thought perchance we might suit. Alas, I will not take the leavings of another.”
Charles stepped around Freya with a warning growl. “She is innocent.”
Roland laughed. “Mayhap. Who is to say if such would have still been the case if we had not arrived in time to break the two of you apart? I take no chances, especially when ’tis clear her affections lie with another.”
Freya now stepped around Charles. “How dare ye assume—” She was so furious she could not continue her tirade.
Douglas turned to Roland. “Ye are treading thin ice, de Wolfe, if ye think tae insult my sister.”
’Twas only then did Freya realize Killian was with them. Obviously he had learned of her absence at Berwyck and must have followed her as soon as he realized she was gone.
She was about to give an apology for being caught in such a compromising position, but Douglas pointed at her. She snapped her mouth closed, not wishing to anger him further.
“Not. Another. Word. Ye have disgraced yerself and the MacLaren name. Killian, take Freya tae her chamber and see that she does not leave it.”
“But Douglas—”
“Silence,” her brother roared, “or I swear ye shall regret what I do next, Freya. Now, leave!”
Freya turned back to stare at Charles who appeared stricken they had been found out. “Charles,” she began only for him to halt her words by giving her a formal bow.
“I will speak to you on the morrow, Lady Freya,” he said with a slight smile of encouragement.
“Only if I allow it, de Grey,” Douglas warned.
Torn between the man she loved and her brother, she finally came to her senses enough to take Charles’s cloak from her shoulders. Smoothing the fabric, she reluctantly handed his garment back to him.
“Until the morrow, then, Sir Charles,” she murmured while taking a moment for her hand to linger on his arm. His hand briefly covered her own before she left with Killian trailing behind her.
She did not try to persuade Killian to take her anywhere else beside the chamber she had been assigned to. He would follow Douglas’s orders with no questions asked. Freya would soon learn exactly how angry her brother really was at her behavior.
Chapter Ten
Charles said nothing as he stood in Lord Robert’s solar. Robert leaned upon a table, his fingers tapping the edges of the wood. Douglas and Roland sat in chairs near the hearth, although ’twas clear Freya’s brother would like nothing better than to take a dirk to Charles’s heart. Roland, on the other hand, appeared amused, and Charles could only ponder what this particular de Wolfe was up to.
Knowing Livinia as well as he did, Charles would not be surprised to learn the two had concocted some plan to keep Charles and Freya apart, although he might be over thinking the situation. The furious glint in Douglas’s eyes suggested otherwise and was a clear indication of his fury.
Charles had been given no opportunity to see Freya this morn nor the day before. She had been kept prisoner in her chamber with Killian standing guard at the door. Charles had approached the Scotsman last eve, but Killian had put a hand on the hilt of his sword and told Charles to move on. He had heard Freya’s muffled voice through the door, and his heart went out to the woman. Yet, he had been given no choice but to refrain from trying to see her.
The new lord of Wolverhampton appeared unsure what to do with Charles. Apparently his duty to the de Wolfe’s, or Catherine in particular, seemed to be in question. When he at last spoke, Charles inwardly cringed at his words.
“Lord Douglas and I have spoken at length as to the possibility of you returning to Berwyck. You should know that my cousin Catherine has come to your defense and informed me your honor should not be questioned. Lord Douglas does not share such a sentiment given you were found
in a compromising situation with Lady Freya.”
“My intentions toward Lady Freya are honorable, my lord,” Charles replied, keeping his rigid stance.
“And yet ye did not come tae me asking for my blessing,” Douglas said, fingering a dirk in his hands.
Before Charles could answer, Robert interrupted. “’Tis a relief Lord Douglas arrived when he did and the lady was not compromised further. Now that my cousin and his son have been laid to rest, Catherine would like to remain here for a few more days before traveling home.”
“I would like to continue my service to Lady Catherine,” Charles offered.
Robert came to stand before Charles. “Your service as a guardsman to my cousin has yet to be determined. In the meantime, Lord Roland will escort Lady Freya and Lord Douglas’s clansman back to Berwyck this morn. With the lady leaving Wolverhampton and you staying here, you should have no further opportunity to incur Lord Douglas’s wrath. We will continue to discuss whether you stay here or return to Berwyck.”
“But, my lord—”
“Do you dare to question my authority, Sir Charles?” Robert asked in a cautionary tone.
“Nay, my lord.”
“’Tis good to see you still have some common sense in that head of yours. Give me your vow you will not seek Lady Freya out while she is still under my roof.”
Charles quickly glanced at the men before the fire. He swore he heard a chuckle coming from Roland. Charles gave a short bow to Robert. “Aye, my lord.”
“Good. You are dismissed, Sir Charles. I will call for you when a decision has been made.”
Charles gave a short bow while trying to ignore the smirk that swept across Roland’s face. Leaving the solar, he made his way down the passageway toward the turret stairs. He was surprised to see Freya’s door partially open with Killian nowhere in sight. Had they already left Wolverhampton, leaving Charles no opportunity for even a glimpse of Freya before her departure?
Nudging open the door, he stepped inside the chamber. A flowery scent slammed into him, leaving Charles the impression Freya had but recently left her room. He glanced around the chamber and noticed a piece of parchment on her bed. His name was elegantly written on the front, and he ran his fingertips over the letters before turning it over and breaking the seal.
My Dearest Charles,
You will forgive this hastily written note, for I know not how long I have before they come for me. Please know that I regret nothing and hope you feel the same. I can only pray you will return for me at Berwyck. My heart cries out for you, Charles, and I already miss you beyond words. I hope you know that I love you and eagerly await our reunion.
Forever yours,
Freya
Charles read the words again before neatly folding the note. Going to the window, he opened the shutter to peer down into the courtyard below. His eyes widened seeing horses being readied for the journey north. He had not missed her after all! If he hurried, he just might be able to have a few words with Freya. He gave no thought as to the consequences of his actions should he be caught alone in her company again.
Chapter Eleven
Freya lingered near the kitchen while she waited for Wolverhampton’s cook to finish packing their food for the return to Berwyck. For once, Killian no longer stood guard over her, and Freya assumed ’twas because he knew Charles was currently in Lord Robert’s solar learning of whatever fate awaited the man she loved. She knew she should not blame herself for the predicament Charles now faced, but how could she not? Once again, he was suffering because of her! He must hate that she had ever crossed his path.
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her attempts to leave her chamber for two long days had been to no avail. Keeping her distance from Charles just might be her undoing. She missed him. Did no one understand she needed him near just to breathe? She might be acting a little ridiculous, but she had no idea how she would endure his absence from her life. Her knees had become raw from her prayers upon the hard stone floor. Surely God above would answer her heartfelt plea that Charles would come back to her.
Boots inside the stairwell of the turret left Freya knowing someone must be in a hurry. The blond-haired man who emerged from the turret had his back to her, but Freya could have identified him anywhere, even in the darkest hours before the dawn. Happiness consumed her knowing she would at the very least get one more look at her beloved before her departure.
Charles turned as though he felt her presence and a smile crept across his mouth. Tears of joy swam in her eyes as she ran to him. He quickly took hold of her arm and swung her toward a nearby alcove behind the kitchen hidden from view. They would have but a moment of privacy before Freya would need to leave.
“Freya…”
“Charles.” She had no time to say more before his lips took possession of hers.
Arms of steel wrapped around her, crushing her body to his chest. Time had no meaning, not while Charles continued to kiss her senseless. How would she ever manage without him, and what would happen to him if they were once again found out?
’Twas as if he read her mind, for he suddenly pulled his lips away and Freya immediately felt the loss. A pout crossed her mouth as she attempted to kiss him again.
“Dinnae be so mean tae me, Charles. Kiss me again and tell me ye shall miss me,” she crooned.
His thumbs traced her cheeks before he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “We should not be so reckless, Freya, although the fault is mine. I will not have your virtue questioned again.”
“I know I am safe with ye, Charles,” she said before she pressed herself into his body. With her head resting upon his chest, she heard the rapid beating of his heart. She grinned, knowing he was just as affected by their kiss as she was. She raised her head to stare into his blue eyes and was once more lost.
“Look at me like that again and I may not be able to keep my vow, although in truth, I have already broken it by being with you now.”
“What vow?” she asked, frowning. What had her brother done that would cause Charles to appear worried?
“I was not to go looking for you while you were still at Wolverhampton,” Charles said. “But when I saw you standing there with such a forlorn look upon your lovely face, I could not contain myself.”
“I came tae ye, if ye would but remember,” she reminded him.
“But I pulled you here to the alcove.”
Freya shrugged. “Does it matter how we came tae be here? ’Tis only of import that we are together…”
“…and against your brother’s wishes and Lord Robert’s. I may be a fierce a warrior, but I would never be able to win a battle against a de Wolfe should he question my honor. They are notorious with their weapons, or have you not heard of their history?”
“Surely ye would not cross swords over me?”
His brows rose. “To protect your honor?”
She nodded. “Aye.”
He took her chin between his fingers. “I will always do all within my power to protect you, little one.”
Freya clenched his tunic in her hands. “Tell me ye will come for me at Berwyck,” she pleaded.
“I do not know what awaits me, Freya. I am but a vassal to Lord Robert.”
“I know ye have lands in France. If we cannae go there, then we can run away together up tae Edinburgh. I have a manor near the city given tae me by my grandparents. We could be happy there, I know we can.”
“Runaway never to see your family again? That is no way to begin our lives together, Freya.” He began to smooth her hair, but it must have been her tears that caused Charles to once more pull her into his arms.
“Ye still wish tae have a life with me?” She wrapped her own around his waist and held on as though he was the only thing strong enough to keep her upright.
“Aye.” ’Twas but one word, but it held the promise of what could be.
“Whatever shall we do, Charles?”
With a gentle urging of his hand, she faced him, and he once again bent
down to brush his lips against her own. ’Twas the sweetest of kisses, and yet Freya thought of this as a beginning to a life together.
When he finally tore his lips away, he gave her a smile of encouragement. “We shall think of something. Now you must go before they come searching for you. I do not wish you to be in trouble again.”
“I shall miss ye while we are apart, Charles.”
He took her hand, bowing over it before placing a tender kiss upon her knuckles. “You shall never be far from my thoughts, my lady.”
They heard her name being called, and a sob escaped her. She threw herself into his arms. “Charles…I love ye.”
“As I love you. Now go before I cannot let you leave my side.”
She rose up on her toes and kissed his cheeks. “Come back tae me, my love.”
She spun away from him before she could do something so foolish as to ask him to compromise her so they would need to wed. Charles would never sink so low, and Douglas would never forgive him.
She ran back to the kitchen and took the basket of food from Cook before she made her way outside to the courtyard. Killian looked at her with raised brows, but she ignored him and Lord Roland as she made her way to her horse.
It was not until they had ridden several miles from Wolverhampton’s gates that Freya came to the realization Charles had declared his love. With her heart near bursting with happiness, she began daydreaming of when they could be together again, and she could claim him as her own.
Chapter Twelve
Charles ran the brush over Devil’s black coat. He had already cleaned his horses stall, and for once, he did not complain about performing such a menial task. Aye, there were stable lads who were used to such labor, but Charles needed the distraction. Had it truly been a fortnight since he had last seen Freya? Waiting to return to Berwyck had been tormenting him. The plan had been to leave two se’nnights ago, but Catherine had become unwell and needed the time to heal from whatever illness plagued her.
To Love an English Knight Page 5
