“Pay them no heed, my lady.”
His skewed smile elicited one from herself before she could prevent it. “You mistake me, Sir, I care not for their gossiping.”
Gabriel’s look told her he knew otherwise but before he could say as much, a shout from Tibald drew him away from her with a roll of his eyes.
“Pray pardon me, my lady. I shall see you this night.”
***
Evelyn did indeed see him that night for he was the first thing her eyes were drawn to. Gone was his worn leather surcoat, replaced with a simple dark blue tunic that served to strengthen the azure of his eyes. His stubble remained and his hair seemed as unruly as ever but he stood proud, his striking appearance marking him out from the other men and his dark looks causing them to pale in comparison.
He flicked a look to her and paused as she stepped into the Great Hall. A flutter made itself know in her stomach as she thought she detected a glint of interest in his eyes, but a scowl came across his face and it was gone before she could be sure.
The feast was to be a lavish affair – a display of Tibald’s wealth. Three trestle tables stood, one upon the dais and two running down either length of it, benches awaiting their guests. Beautifully embroidered white linen cloths covered them and pewter plates sat at intervals while the silver plates were reserved for the buffet table from which the servants would serve from. The salt cellar, sat upon the great table, was a large vessel crafted into the shape of a ship and placed in front of Tibald’s chair. The room was lit with great cupped oil lamps, the soft light both flattering and concealing, creating a beautifully distorted setting for the splendour.
Evelyn sat to Tibald’s right and Gabriel sat to his left as the servants proffered the ewers in which to wash their hands. The scent of fresh herbs hung in the air, the rushes having been swept and replaced a few days beforehand. The courses were exquisitely cooked, a sumptuous mix of cooked meats, fishes, jellies and custards, all beautifully spiced, but Evelyn had little appetite while sharing the lord’s platter, his quietly malignant manner creating a well of anxiety within her. As the servants cleared away the remains, Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief, quickly moving away from the table as the floor was cleared for dancing.
***
Gabriel couldn’t help but steal a glance at Evelyn as she joined some of the other women, who were conversing gaily. He watched with amusement as she struggled to keep the look of boredom from her face. Radiant in green silk, she outshone every other woman in attendance, capturing his attention as soon as he set eyes upon her. Her hair hung loose, curling just above the dip of her back, a delicate gilded circlet setting off the gold of her hair.
When she had locked eyes with him he had forgotten himself, sensations fluttering through his gut, and then, at the sound of his master’s voice, he had remembered the madness behind his fascination. He was well aware of his inconsistent attitude towards her, forever trying to retain a remote manner, but he failed consistently, drawn in by the lure of her voice, her smile, a fleeting touch.
As he continued to watch her he knew without hesitation he was yet again lost.
***
Standing with a gaggle of women, Evelyn attempted a look of interest but the tedium of the night was steadily wearing thin. Her interest piqued, however, when she heard the mention of Sir Gabriel’s name. An older woman, Lady Isabel, who seemed to be the most interesting and outspoken of the group, turned to her.
“Do you not think him handsome, Lady Evelyn? You are most fortunate to be able to spend so much time in his company.”
She looked to where he was stood, just behind Tibald, who was laughing raucously while surrounded by a group of noble men and knights. In contrast to his master, but no different from usual, he was scowling. He noticed her scrutiny and her eyes darted away, a blush creeping into her cheeks at being caught. She conceded he was indeed one of the most handsome men she had ever been acquainted with.
Gabriel did not follow fashions and she suspected his slightly too long hair and stubbled jaw were merely a look of convenience, but they added to his distinct look, distinguishing him from his companions. His strong profile and broad shoulders gave him the appearance of a warrior and Evelyn knew very well that there was a body to match underneath his clothing.
“I dare say he is,” she admitted to Isabel. “‘Tis just a shame he knows not how to smile,” she added with laugh.
“Oh, I would put up with that scowl all day long to be bedded by him!”
The group of ladies burst into giggles and Evelyn’s cheeks flamed even further at the thought. Whilst these ladies were married and experienced in these matters, Evelyn was completely out of her depth.
A younger girl interjected, “‘Tis a surprise he has not been snapped up sooner.”
“Aye, but he has little fortune,” Isabel told her.
“He has land surely?” Evelyn turned to Isabel.
“Nay, the Merston lands were lost many years ago. Lord Tibald holds them now.”
“He does? But why?”
“I know not, it happened when I was but a young girl.”
They both turned to the subject of their conversation in contemplation, his glower still as deep as ever. If Lord Tibald owned his lands then it certainly explained his unwavering loyalty and work ethic. Mayhap he was working to gain back his lands? She understood the need to preserve family lands, her heart desperately want to ensure the Beldersert lands remained intact, but surely selling your soul for the promise of land was an act of pure greed?
He had talked of regret at the death of Lazarus’ boy so she had to conclude he had some conscience. How could he bring himself to carry out these sins in the name of duty? The more she observed him, the more perplexed she became and she found herself anxious to know the truth.
Drifting back from the group of women, she moved towards the roaring fire, watching the flames leap and flicker, mimicking the movements of the merry dancers making their way across the Great Hall. Glancing around she wondered if she would be able to escape without anyone taking notice but she had noticed Tibald’s eyes on her on more than one occasion and she knew she would be missed.
A chill swept through her. She could sense him before she saw him, moving through the crowd of people towards her as if stalking a prey. He came up behind her, a dark presence looming in the corner of her vision. She didn’t turn to him, a sensation akin to fear preventing her from meeting his penetrating stare. A shudder dashed through her as he spoke, his breath caressing her ear as he leaned in to speak to her through the rowdy din of the hall.
“Are you enjoying yourself Evelyn?”
“Does it seem that I am?” A wry smile touched her lips and she turned to meet his gaze.
“You are most practiced at appearing so, it seems.” Gabriel’s eyes crinkled in a half smile of amusement.
“I am a woman; it is our duty to appear happy in the company of boorish men. I believe I am not the only one practiced in the art of deception.” She gave him a knowing look.
“You believe me to be a liar?”
“Nay, not a liar but I think you as capable of deception as I am.”
“I know not how to deceive as a woman does.”
“And yet you are but a riddle to me, Sir. With one hand you will slay and burn and with the other you will save and protect. Tell me, which of these is the true Gabriel of Merston?”
He bore down upon her, his eyes darkening. “Why do you wish to know?”
She studied him, undeterred by his piercing look. “I know not.”
“Does it please you to believe that I am playacting? That my actions that you so deeply disapprove of are merely a ruse?”
“Please me? If your actions were part of a ruse then I would think it a vile trick indeed. I think you capable of many things, but a ruse…? Nay.”
“Then mayhap, my lady, the only one here being deceived is yourself. I can offer no excuses for my deeds but that I performed them in the line of duty.”
“You will continue to defend your misdeeds by way of duty?”
“Defend? Nay, I offer no such defence, I cannot excuse the inexcusable. I simply offer explanation. I suspect such a justification to be deficient for you, my lady, but here you have the truth.”
Evelyn looked at him in surprise, whilst Gabriel had never openly lied to her, his brutal honesty and the admission of his guilt was far more than she had expected.
He gave her a mocking smile when she answered him with nothing but silence. “I fear mayhap the truth is a little hard for you to endure, my lady.”
Shaking her head and then tilting it, she studied him. “You have little knowledge of my endurance; I assure you there is much I can bear, even the truths that you keep so deeply hidden.”
“You would be wise to hasten your curiosity, Evelyn, lest you regret the answers you may receive.”
“Are you trying to scare me, Gabriel?”
“Do I scare you?”
A look crossed his face, a confusing mixture of hope and anxiety and Evelyn realised once more how difficult this man was to read. Jolting her out of her reverie, he held out his hand.
“I will save you from answering as I fear your response will pain us both.” He looked around the dancers jostling for space. “Will you not join me in a dance?”
Before she was aware of what she had done, she took his hand. His callused touch put her on edge, creating a shiver of anticipation and her stomach clenched with an unfamiliar feeling
His dancing ability surprised her, whilst not perfect; he stepped with unexpected grace and his presence captivated her. She noticed the attention he garnered from the other women and to add to her astonishment she was struck with a pang of jealousy. Gabriel’s attention remained focused on her, however, and his powerful gaze seemed to rob her of her breath, restricting her chest as her heart throbbed painfully against her ribs. A glance to his lips brought heat to her cheeks as the image of his mouth upon hers fluttered through her mind. Surely God had not intended for those lips to be forever pulled into a grimace?
Circling one another, eyes connecting self-consciously, they drew closer, no more than a hair breadths apart, before pulling back. The tormenting effects of the dance were not lost on Gabriel, their hands joining for the briefest of moments before moving onto other dancers, her soft fingers dancing teasingly across his. He noted with twisting envy the appreciative looks of the other men in the circle and her easy smile in response. How he wished to be at the receiving end of one of those smiles. Although he wondered at the substance behind those smiles and whether she was still playing her game of deception.
They met again, a coy look of uncertainty in her expression and a flush upon her smooth cheeks, her delicate lavender scent consuming him as they stepped together once again. With a fleeting look towards Tibald, he noted his amused look. Indeed it was rare that Gabriel participated in such events, only dancing when forced into it, usually by Tibald himself. He resisted the urge to snarl, detesting being a source of glee for his master.
A look to Evelyn assured him that she had caught his indignant expression, again looking at him with caution as if he might turn on her and devour her. Little did she know how true that was for he wanted to consume her as she consumed him. She was indeed his Eve, enticing him in to eat the forbidden fruit. How would she respond if she knew the thoughts that were running through his mind? Would those lips, that he so desperately wanted to nibble and taste, curve into a smile? More likely she would bequeath him with that look of disdain that she so often masterfully bestowed upon him.
The song ended, the musicians receiving a round of applause, and he gave Evelyn a bow with the gentlest touch to her hand. She drew her hand back quickly and, concluding that nothing had changed, he turned on his heel and took up his usual position behind Tibald. For all her questions, for all her deliberations, she would never see him as anything other than a monster.
***
She came to him like an apparition that night; her beautiful golden locks loose and curling around her breasts, covered in a sheer slip of fabric which seemed to shimmer over her body, affording him teasing glimpses of the luscious skin beneath. Heart hammering in his throat, he stayed silent for fear of frightening her away, his unbelieving mind convinced that but one whisper would cause the vision to evaporate into the cold night air.
Reaching out to him, she drifted over to his bed as if on a cloud. Her cool fingertips brushed across his jawline, rasping over his stubble and trailing down his neck to his chest, wresting a growl from his throat. She sat on his bed, so feather light that it didn’t even dip under her weight, and he reached out hesitantly, his large hand pressing against the delicate cloth of her chemise at her waist.
Her jade eyes locked onto his, nebulous pools of desire, a beguiling combination of boldness and innocence, an echo of the traits that drew him to her so strongly. Pressing his thumb into her hip, he coaxed her to straddle him and gripped firmly at her other hip, holding her to him.
A tumble of curls brushed against his chest as she leant over him, teasing his chest and nipples with their softness. Following the curve of her waist, he traced his fingers upwards until they brushed the underside of her breast and a sigh from her prompted him to cup at the delectable fullness, skimming a thumb over her hardened nipple. Sitting up, he pulled at the neckline of her chemise, continuing his ministrations while placing greedy kisses upon her collar bone.
Breathy sighs drew his head up and he found himself mesmerised by the motion of her mouth, her crimson lips parted in pleasure and, as he stroked his other hand up her soft thigh, he was rewarded with his name tumbling from her lips in a breathy sigh.
His hands clutched at air as the sweet warmth of her body vanished, the echoing sound of his name turning into a scream of pain, and his mind became plagued with torment, the voices and faces of all those he had hurt persecuting him, deriding him for his cowardice. Finally the faces of the two that beleaguered him most in his dreams appeared before him, a grisly image set in a haze of blood and terror.
Wrenching himself from his nightmares, he heaved open his heavy eyelids, his body slick with sweat. Lying back, he waited for his heartbeat to slow. The nightmares were normal, it was rare he didn’t experience them, but why had Evelyn come to him in them? So perfect was she that she didn’t belong in his world of horrors. Realising that his nightmare world was no better for her than his real one, despondency settled into his gut. Dreams would be all he ever had. All he could ever have.
Chapter 5
The revelries had gone on until the sun crested over the brow of the hill, the ochre light filtering in through the shuttered windows, casting a warming glow over the disarray of the Great Hall. Some guests continued on until the call of the morning meal while others simply slumped over where they sat, rendered insensible by too much drink. Heavy heads afflicted some, the raucous shouts of those with more stamina causing curses to fall from their lips.
Evelyn avoided the meal, the rowdy atmosphere spoiling her appetite, and instead retreated to the bailey. She was delighted to come across Lady Isabel, who greeted her with the same warmth, and they determined a walk into the town would be a suitable way to avoid the continuing intoxicated celebrations.
Grateful that Tibald was too distracted to think of her, she decided that Isabel would be escort enough and they set out promptly arm in arm.
“Did you enjoy the feast, Lady Isabel?”
“Priay call me Isabel,” she begged. “‘Twas pleasant as feasts go. Sir Walter was so drunk that he found himself incapable of even standing up straight let alone bedding me, which was a pleasing outcome.”
Evelyn looked at her in surprise, wondering if she was jesting.
Seeing her expression, she laughed teasingly, “Oh, Evelyn, for all your years I fear you are too innocent to associate with myself! I shall but offend you with my every word!”
Evelyn could not help but laugh also. “Nay, you do not offend. ‘Tis a joy to be able
to laugh once more.”
“Aye, I would imagine there is not much pleasure to be had within the keep of Etone.”
“‘Tis so, Isabel. Between the cruel Lord Tibald and the surly Sir Gabriel, there is not a moment of fun to be had.”
“You must at least gain some pleasure in the company of the enigmatic Sir Gabriel?” Evelyn blushed and Isabel laughed again. “Nay, I did not mean that! What a mind you have! I merely meant to suggest that looking at a man like that cannot be all hardship.”
Evelyn smiled but Isabel noted with interest that it did not reach her eyes.
“I saw you dancing with him last night. You cannot tell me you did not enjoy that? What I would not give to be pressed against that chest!”
Evelyn chuckled genuinely this time at her new friend’s outrageousness. “I would take more pleasure if a heart lay beneath it.”
Seeing she would be unable to pry any further, Isabel changed the topic. “Well, you may rely on me for amusement for the time being. ‘Tis just a shame we do not visit more often but my lord does his best to avoid Lord Tibald’s hospitalities.”
“I do not blame him; I would do the same if I had the choice.”
“So you are held against your will? I thought as much.”
Isabel looked at her with interest and Evelyn wondered with horror if she had been the subject of much gossip last night.
“Not openly so, but it has been made clear to me that much suffering will occur should I do otherwise. Lord Tibald wishes for our betrothal so he may take my lands. I am just praying for my brother’s safe return…he is in the Holy Land,” she added.
Isabel nodded and gave Evelyn’s arm a squeeze. “Then I shall pray for you too. I should not like to see you betrothed to such a man. I have seen what marriage to men like these can do to a woman. I would not wish it upon you.”
The Crimson Castle Page 5
