Margo Maguire

by The Virtuous Knight

  Alex did not want to commit himself to taking her with him. The journey to Eryngton would be dangerous with Skelton’s men pursuing him. ’Twas even possible the knights would recognize him.

  The more he thought of it, the greater his worry for Lucy’s safety. Mayhap ’twould be better for her to remain—

  Alex’s breath caught when he turned to look at her. She wore naught but a thin silk chemise and her mantle of beautiful, wavy hair. Her gown had fallen and was pooled at her feet.

  Seduction was in her eyes, and Alex was powerless to resist. All morn, he’d thought of naught but the woman who’d moaned with pleasure and warmed his bed all night long. His fingers itched to touch her, his arms ached to hold her. He could almost taste her.

  “Did I tell you how much you please me, husband?” Her voice was soft, her words flowing through him as though she’d touched him with her lips, her hands.

  Somehow he found himself standing before her with one thumb touching the elegant notch at the base of her throat. From there, his hand slid down and found the distinctive mole nearly hidden between her breasts. Her eyes slid closed and when her head fell back, Alex pressed his lips to her neck.

  “Aye,” she whispered. “Touch me.”

  He untied the fastening that held her chemise closed. When it slipped away from her breasts, he cupped them and teased their tips with his fingers. She trembled, and he felt her lips on his forehead, then near his ear as she sought his mouth.

  Alex was already so swollen, he was near to bursting. He moved his head and caught her lips in a searing kiss, even as her fingers slid through his hair, loosening it from the thong that tied it neatly at his nape.

  She broke the kiss and touched her tongue to his chin, then his neck. Her lips moved to his chest and every muscle, from his feet to his neck, tensed. A shudder of anticipation ran through him.

  Lucy’s chemise dropped to the floor. She pulled at Alex’s tunic until he lifted it over his head and threw it aside. When his chest was bare, she devoted her attention to his nipples, now pebbled with arousal.

  Her hands worked at his braes, and Alex groaned when her fingers found him. They slid across his engorged length, then encircled him, even as her mouth moved downward.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I wish we knew where the black knights were,” Lucy said, running one finger absently across Alex’s chest. He turned over in the bed and propped his head on his hand to look down at her. She was not the only one who wanted to know where they were, but Alex did not see how it would be possible to find out.

  “They could be anywhere in York,” he said. “Or they might have left town by one of the other gates.”

  “We could go to the tavern where you saw them. Ask if they’ve been seen lately.”

  “They’d recognize me right off.”

  “Then I could ask.”

  Alex frowned. “Absolutely not. Women do not go into taverns and they—”

  She covered his lips with her fingers. “What if I just looked about…tried to see if they were inside?”

  “Too dangerous,” he said, taking her hand in his and lowering it to the bed. “Besides, you cannot walk so far.”

  “Of course I can,” she protested. She sat up and threw her legs over the bed. She picked up her chemise and slipped it over her head then tied the lacing at the neck. “I am perfectly capable of—”

  “Nay, Lucy, ’tis too dangerous.”

  Alex slid out of the bed, too.

  “You forget…I spent one entire night in the streets of York, looking for a safe place to stay.”

  “Nay. I have not forgotten. Nor will I ever.”

  “Come with me, Alex,” she said. She drew out her old, mended kirtle from her small bundle of possessions. “If they happen to see me, they will never recognize me. I can go where you cannot.”

  She pulled on the gown and began to fasten it. Alex moved her hands aside and tied her laces himself. Her idea was not entirely without merit, though he’d have preferred a seasoned fighter to venture into town with him. The idea of Lucy in danger again was abhorrent to him.

  “Come. If we are to leave tomorrow, ’twould be good to know where they are, and if they keep watch over the northern road. Besides, it has stopped raining, and the timing could not be more perfect.”

  Reluctantly, he agreed with her plan. They would not risk taking his horse into the city streets, for Rusa was a war horse and would never be mistaken for peasant stock. They would walk, and he would allow Lucy to set the pace, certain that his own gait would be much too fast for her.

  Alex dressed quickly in his darkest tunic and watched as Lucy made herself ready to go. She slipped on her old shawl, pulling it up to cover her head. “Ready?” she asked.

  They left the priest’s house and took the same path Alex had used when he’d followed the knights to the tavern the day before. The night watchmen were out, so they took care to avoid them. Alex preferred not to be stopped and questioned, drawing attention to them.

  “I’ll walk by the window and see if they’re there,” Lucy said when they reached the tavern. It seemed to be a smaller and quieter room than the one at Saint George’s Inn, and though Alex did not like sending Lucy unescorted, he had no alternative. They stood on the opposite side of the lane and looked over at the building.

  “Do not tarry,” he said, holding one of her arms. “Take a look and go on by.”

  She agreed and crossed to the other side of the lane.

  Lucy could not deny that she was nervous. Knowing the location of the black knights was extremely important. She and Alex did not want to be surprised on the road when they left York.

  This had been her idea, and she was going to see it through. She walked as evenly as possible across the lane, arriving on the other side, at one edge of the tavern. She made her way to the steamy window, where she slowed and looked in.

  ’Twas impossible to see.

  Determined to get something out of this trip, she turned back to look at the windows, and saw that water had dripped down in one area, clearing the glass. Bending slightly to put her eye to it, she looked over the crowd of men gathered in the room.

  ’Twas not as crowded a place as Saint George’s had been, and Lucy was able to see every man inside. None wore the black tunic emblazoned with a white lion. Lucy guessed the knights might not always wear their livery, especially if they—like she and Alex—did not wish to be recognized. But there was no man inside who had the look of a knight.

  She straightened and went back to Alex.

  He took her arm and pulled her into a concealed space under the eaves of the building. “You are supposed to walk past once,” he said. “Not flaunt yourself to the crowd.”

  “They did not see me, Alex,” she said. Even without touching him, she felt the tension coiled in his body. “And there were no knights inside.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Aye,” she replied and he relaxed slightly. “Shall we keep walking? They might have gone to Saint George’s if they were looking for rooms.”

  He did not respond right away and Lucy knew his hesitation was because he did not want her to have to go back there. “Nay. We do not need—”

  “Alex, you know ’twould be best to see if they are still here in York.”

  “Men come and go from Saint George’s too frequently to risk having you seen by that buffoon who assaulted you.”

  “No one will see me.” She grabbed his arm and made him to go along with her, enjoying the feel of his arm entwined with hers, and the protectiveness he showed her.

  ’Twas a very foreign feeling, indeed, and Lucy could not feel afraid when Alex hovered so close.

  When they arrived at Saint George’s Inn, Alex led Lucy ’round to the back of the building, where the courtyard and stable were located. “Wait here for me. I’m going inside to speak to the proprietor.”

  “What if the knights are there?”

  “I’m going in the back way, and I’ll wait for
Alf to come into the kitchen. No one else will see me.”

  “Be careful,” she whispered, watching him disappear into the dark.

  Lucy hovered close to the back wall, unwilling to be discovered by a patron coming out to relieve himself. She could hear the music and the raucous laughter that had gone on the night she’d worked in the common room, and a shudder ran up her spine at the thought of it. If Alex had not arrived when he did, and taken her away from those men…

  “They haven’t been here,” Alex said, coming to her so silently that she had not heard his footsteps. “They might have left York already.”

  “But not by way of the church. We’d have seen them.”

  “True,” he replied. “Come on. Let’s get back. We’re taking too great a chance of being seen.”

  They turned back toward Father Massey’s cottage, moving as quickly as Lucy’s weak leg allowed. ’Twas not a direct route, since they’d walked to the center of town, but fewer people were out and about now. ’Twas not as frightening to be out while Alex was with her.

  “What’s that smell?”

  “’Tis the butchers’ district,” he answered.

  “Let’s hurry past. It stinks.”

  Lucy grabbed Alex’s hand and tried to run ahead of him, but he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into a niche, flattening her into the narrow crack between two buildings. The scent of butchered meat was nearly overpowering and she fought the urge to gag, aware that Alex had gotten her off the street for a reason. As he pressed his body against hers, neither of them breathed as footsteps came closer and they heard men’s voices in the air.

  “…is not here in town, if he ever was,” one of them said, his voice low and gruff.

  “Where do we look now?”

  “You said he’d be here in York.”

  “Well, ’tis clear I was wrong,” a third man said, his words clipped, his expression irritated.

  “We’ve looked in every tavern and inn, and visited every church. If the Cluny knight had come to York, we’d have known about it.”

  Lucy nearly gasped when she realized who these men were, but she remained perfectly still, and they continued past.

  “Then what shall we do?” the first voice asked. “Wait for him to turn up at the King’s Inn…?”

  The words became muffled as the men continued, but though she could not hear the men’s plans, she was able to breathe with relief. Inadvertently, they had accomplished what they’d set out to do!

  When the dark knights stepped out of the lane and out of sight, Alex pulled Lucy from their hiding place and moved her in the opposite direction. Feeling safe and elated now that she knew where the black knights were, Lucy fairly skipped back to the cottage. When they arrived in Father Massey’s yard, she threw open the door and waited for Alex to bar it behind him.

  Then she tossed off her shawl and flew into his arms, laughing. “We did it!”

  Her laughter made their dangerous excursion worthwhile, even more than learning the black knights’ location. Alex’s heart felt strangely light and the corners of his mouth turned up in an uncharacteristic smile.

  “Ha!” she grabbed his hand and kissed the palm, then giggled and pressed her face to his chest. “They never saw us!”

  “They very nearly did.”

  “But you saw them first and got us out of harm’s way,” she said, undaunted. “My mighty protector!”

  She danced away from him, and no matter how awkward her gait, Alex found her graceful. Delightful. Beautiful.

  “Your lucky protector.” He could think of naught but spending the rest of the night indulging in the pleasures they’d discovered together in their marriage bed.

  Her hair swirled around her as she swayed, pulling off her kirtle as she moved.

  “They have no idea where you are!” She laughed aloud again, clearly exhilarated by their near encounter with Skelton’s men. “And so we are safe tonight in our bed!”

  “So you think, my winsome one.”

  Alex threw wood on the dying fire, and watched as her kirtle dropped to the floor. She was giddy with relief, and her playfulness was contagious. He lunged for her, but she skittered away, laughing.

  Lucy taunted him with bared shoulders as he unbuckled his sword belt and set it upon the table. Smiling wickedly, she held her silken chemise so that it just covered her breasts, then bent down to remove her shoes.

  When he grabbed for her again, she squealed and skirted around to the far side of the table. He played along with her chasing game until he could stand it no longer, then, taking exquisite care not to hurt her, he made one quick move and scooped her up in his arms. He tossed her over one shoulder and patted her soft rump.

  “You think to defy me, wench?” he jested.

  “Alex!” she cried, laughing and screeching. Squirming provocatively.

  “One more wiggle, and I shall lay you on the floor and have my way with you!”

  She did it again and he slid her slowly, torturously, down his body while he fought to maintain control. He was hard and wanting, but he reveled in her scent, her softness, her feisty demeanor. He would have her frolicsome mood continue…for a time.

  When her bare feet had nearly reached the ground, Lucy tipped her head for his kiss. Their lips were a breath apart when she whispered, “I’d prefer the bed, Sir Knight!”

  Alex slept fitfully. He had been sated within Lucy’s body so many times that his nerves hummed with an odd restlessness. The fire had burned low, so he climbed out of bed and walked across the chilly room to add more wood.

  Lucy slept soundly. Her playfulness had been more arousing than anything he’d ever experienced. He’d laughed with her, allowed her to tease and taunt him, and had seduced her in turn.

  He had never known such pleasure or contentment with Isabella.

  Alex shoved his fingers through his hair. He had resisted temptation for three years.

  Until Lucy.

  “Deus meus,” he whispered, suddenly aware of how remiss he’d been with his prayers, with his true purpose. “Ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum….

  Lucy lay peacefully with her beautiful hair spread under her, and one pale arm flung wide. Her hand was smooth and soft now, the hand of a lady unfamiliar with the kind of work she had done at Craghaven. She was his wife now, in the eyes of God and man.

  And Isabella was dead and buried.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They left the priest’s cottage at daybreak the following morn. Alex had concealed the Mandylion somewhere… Lucy thought it might be in the same place where he’d hidden away his affections, too.

  He’d been quiet and distant since leaving York, hardly speaking, never touching. Lucy did not understand what could possibly be amiss, not after the experiences they’d shared over the past two nights. She was certain that Alex had begun to feel something for her—something more than an inconvenient responsibility for her.

  But after spending a day in the wagon with him as taciturn as ever, she was not so sure. She’d even heard him muttering in Latin, which was something he had not done since their earliest days at Holywake.

  The rain held off most of the day, though the clouds hung low and threatening while they rode north. Lucy felt fortunate to have her new, thick woolen cloak to wrap around her, its hood keeping her head warm.

  Alex did not remark upon their good luck in finding the black knights, nor had he shown her any of the sensual tenderness she had expected after all that had passed between them in the priest’s cottage. He was cool and remote, and his mien did not invite discourse.

  Lucy chewed her lip and wondered if aught had happened to upset him.

  She had assumed there would be time for talking later, as they traveled. But if Alex had thoughts on anything that had transpired between them, or what he intended for their future, he kept them to himself, and hardly spoke to her all day.

  It was near dusk when he drove the wagon into an inn yard. A light rain began to fall just as Al
ex stopped in front of the inn and jumped down. In silence, he helped Lucy out of the wagon and went inside with her.

  The main room was warm and comfortable, with a blazing fire in its massive fireplace.

  “Ah! Come in, come in!”

  They’d walked in upon a family sitting together for their evening meal, but no one seemed particularly annoyed by the interruption. While three children remained seated, a man and his wife arose and came to the door to greet Lucy and Alex. The wife carried a small, yellow-haired child in her arms. “Ye must warm yerselves by our fire,” said the man.

  “Have you a room to let for the night?”

  “Oh, aye,” he replied. “No one here but we Mortons.”

  Carrying the child in her arms, Anna Morton left the other children to show Lucy to a chamber on the second floor where she and Alex would spend the night. In the meantime, the woman’s husband went out with Alex to stable the horse and wagon.

  “While you settle in, I’ll get yer supper for ye,” Anna said. “Ye must be famished, travelin’ all the way from York.”

  “Aye, they were here….” Edmund Morton said, holding the lantern high so that Alex could see where he was leading Rusa and the wagon. “Three nights ago…er, maybe four. Quiet men, the lot of them.”

  “And dressed in black.”

  The landlord nodded. “Fancy livery ’twas—with a white lion on each chest. Anna didn’t want to take ’em, but what are we in the business for, if not to take in strangers? Fierce men, though. We kept our counsel when they were near.”

  There could be no doubt that they were Skelton’s men. Alex wondered if the three would remain in York, or return to the northern road to await him. ’Twas likely they would stay in York for a time, but he had been unable to hear enough of their conversation to know what they would do.

  He and Lucy could not dally here. It had probably been a mistake to bring her along, but he’d been unable to face leaving her.

  ’Twas clear that Lucy cared for him. This was not at all what he had intended when he’d wed her, though he was still unsure exactly what he had intended. Security against the world was his primary reason, he supposed. Being the wife of Alex Breton would afford her some protection. Philip would accept her at Clyfton and she could live at the castle with his family while Alex…