A great well of emotion rose up inside her and Fellis turned within the circle of his arms. She wanted to kiss him, to tell him how much he and this moment meant to her.
But when her eyes met his a look of sadness stopped her. For a moment she was confused, not understanding what could be wrong, why he would be sad when the most glorious experience in her life had just occurred.
And then she knew. Stephen did not care for her. He had withdrawn as he had every time they’d shared an intimate moment. He had simply reacted to her own crazed response. And now that the heat had passed he was looking at her as if he were sorry it had happened.
What he’d just done to her, those things he’d made her feel meant nothing to Stephen.
Her face burned with a shame that went deep to the very core of her. It found its way to the lonely child she had been, with no one but her mother to care for and guide her.
Her mother had told her to do right, to be careful of the sin of passion because it could seduce one with the sheer pleasure of it. And she had refused to listen.
She was more sorry than she would ever be able to say that she had not listened to that advice. For only she knew how low her stubbornness had brought her.
Tearing herself from his arms, Fellis started off, then stumbled, realizing the fragile flesh of her twisted foot was bare.
“Fellis,” Stephen said in an anguished tone. “You do not understand.” He reached toward her.
She refused to look at him, trying with all her might to summon up some show of pride. Trying and failing, she whispered. “Do not touch me.”
With a sob, she grabbed for her hose and dragged it on, then blinded by tears, forced her foot into the leather shoe. She hurried to her mare and gained the saddle without really knowing how she did so. Not bothering to see whether Stephen followed her or not, she rode for home, paying no heed to the branches that tore the delicate veil from her head and ripped at the clothing Stephen had told her she looked so lovely in only a few short hours ago.
Chapter Eleven
Stephen did not slow his stallion’s thundering pace as they raced over the downhill slope of the hill they had just climbed. The sky was low and gray over the tops of the trees, and rain, which had begun to fall that very morning, poured down as if being wrung from the dark clouds over his head. The wind whipped about him wildly, tearing at his hair and clothing. But he paid it no heed, nor the rivulets of water that ran down his forehead and into his eyes.
Nothing could get through the sorrow and pain of his own self-torment. How could he have so forgotten himself that day after the meeting with Wynn?
Fellis. Her name was like a chant in his mind.
Since the day of the meeting with Wynn, Stephen had avoided her completely. The day he had stolen her innocence and very nearly her virginity. His shame over what he had done left him unable to face her.
Yet worse than coming close to taking what belonged to another man, he had also hurt Fellis by his action.
He knew that she was very susceptible to any personable man who might pay court to her. That all the years of solitude and her mother’s plans for her to become a nun had made Fellis more naive than her years.
Which made what he had done even more inexcusable.
A young girl like Fellis was vulnerable to the man who could awaken her passion, show her what desire could truly be. As an experienced man, he knew this, understood the consequences. That was why in the past he had been careful to keep his own dalliances on an honest footing with women who would know what was happening.
He did not delude himself into thinking he was in any way special to Fellis. He had simply happened to meet her at a time when she was being thrown into a confused state by the drastic changes in her life.
He refused to acknowledge the regret at knowing the attraction she felt toward him was only an illusion.
Stephen prodded his mount onward through the downpour. Still he could not halt his self-recrimination. His actions toward Fellis had surely led her to believe he cared something for her.
God help him, it was true. Though even He could not name what form that caring might take.
He only hoped the Welshman was able to deal with the complication of-Ardeth, as he had said he would—as he must.
Even if Stephen was of a mind to come forward and commit himself to Fellis, he could not. The negotiations with the Welshman had gone too far. Wynn was likely trying to convince his folk to accept the English maid as his future bride and their lady at this very moment.
And yet, in spite of all the things that made him know that Fellis was better off without him to complicate her life, Stephen could not get the image of her large blue eyes, dark with sadness and disillusion, from his mind.
Heaven help him but he hadn’t meant to hurt her that day after they’d left Wynn to settle things with his woman. He’d simply been driven over the edge of his resistance. It had not started that way, when he’d first touched her, bared her foot and kissed it, he’d wanted only to show her in the best way he knew how that she was lovely. It pained him so much to have her think she was any less that perfect. But once he’d uncovered even that small part of her, placed his mouth to the fragile flesh, he’d been lost. The images of her beautiful form had ridden hard in his mind, driving him to forget all but how much he’d dreamed of holding her, tracing those perfect curves with his own hands. Her responses to him had only urged him on until he could not have denied her need, did it mean his life. Only the realization that he would wreak irreparable damage to her had kept Stephen from satisfying the flood of desire inside himself.
Stephen knew he would be further tested, that he must continue to keep that demon at bay, for his duty would force him to be near her again. He was the one who must take her to Wynn when the time came, even though seeing them together that first time had near ripped him apart.
From the moment Wynn had touched her hand, Stephen was forced to battle his own feelings of possession. Knowing that Wynn was to be Fellis’s husband did nothing to quiet the resentment inside him.
He let out a growl of rage and self-hatred, leaning low over Gabriel’s back. Not even here, battling the brutality of the elements could he forget what had happened, how he had hurt her.
Still he rode on.
Hours later, soaked and exhausted, Stephen returned to the keep. He did not go to the hall to sup with the other occupants of Malvern. In truth he felt even a morsel would sicken him.
Taking the back stairs to the upper level of the keep, Stephen hoped to meet no one. His wish was not answered.
In the corridor stood Lady Mary. She looked on the tall knight, her gaze taking in his soaked condition, the slump of his wide shoulders and the bleakness in his face. Stephen felt himself stiffen as he met her gaze. To his surprise, she did not seem displeased by his wretched condition, only thoughtful.
She said nothing as they stood there in the torch-lit corridor, each clearly awkward with the other.
At that moment, the door at the end of the hallway opened. Fellis’s door.
Without conscious thought, Stephen found himself straining for a glimpse of her.
Lady Mary was forgotten.
His heart thudded as Fellis appeared in the opening. She seemed to hesitate when she saw who was in the passage.
Stephen could not prevent the longing that rose up inside him at seeing her there. His eager gaze took in her pale face surrounded by a curtain of hair the color of moonbeams. Fellis wore a gown of buttery yellow that made her creamy skin take on a luminous sheen. She was a candle in a dark night, beckoning him with her flickering warmth. Her gaze collided with his and his stomach contracted at the pain he saw there. He took a step toward her, completely unaware that he did so.
She reached out a trembling hand.
Stephen drew himself up. God help him, what was he doing? He could not let her see how he felt, how much he cared.
Shutting his eyes, he turned from her.
He sensed the clos
ing of her door, for he felt the light of her presence leave the long, narrow hallway.
A voice intruded on his misery. “You will not take my daughter’s virginity.”
He swung around to face the woman and found her regarding him with dread. Not meeting her eyes, Stephen shook his head, hating himself for what he had already done. “Nay, I will not.”
She asked, “I beg you not to hurt her.”
His tormented gaze came to rest on Lady Mary’s. “I would not do so for the world.”
She continued to watch him with uncertainty, but something in his expression seemed to mollify her slightly. “You would do well to keep your word, Sir Knight. I know what path the sin of lust will take you on.”
He frowned, puzzled by this statement. “If by lust you mean desire, there is no sin in that. There is only sin in taking what is not freely offered. Of taking from one who has not the ability to understand what they give. Fellis could not understand what she would give. That is why it would be wrong for me to take her. That and the fact that she is to marry another. Were we free to love, I would share my passion with her without guilt or sin. As any lover should.”
Lady Mary looked up at him, her brow lined with tension. “But that is not right. Passion is a sin of the flesh, to be spurned and detested.”
Stephen shook his head. “I know not whence these notions came to you, my lady, but I must tell you that I cannot believe this is true. God gave the gift of desire to a man and woman. It is to be shared with joy. How can any caring parent question the method of their offspring’s very existence? To do so is to doubt God’s wisdom in what is best for us.”
She folded her hands tightly over her stomach. “But what if that child is not born whole? Then are we not to see that there was sin in its conception?”
Anger made his jaw flex as he formed a reply. “My lady. If you mean Fellis, I must stop you here. Would that I could make you see her as I do. Her infirmity is no sign of reprisal from God. ’Tis a challenge—” he shrugged “—that much is true, but when one thinks on all her other gifts, her beauty, her kind nature, her incredible strength, it seems as nothing. Do we not all have some imperfections? Fellis’s small flaw pales beside all of my own. And those of most others.”
Lady Mary said nothing, only stared at him with obvious doubt, the words seeming to hang in the air between them.
Without another word, Stephen forced his numb limbs to work as he opened his door, passed through it, then closed the portal behind him with a sharp finality. All the while he fought an overwhelming urge to disregard everything he had convinced himself was right. He wanted to set Lady Mary and duty aside to go to Fellis, to tell her that he longed, above all things, to make her his. To talk of a man and woman sharing desire out of their love for each other only made his own plight all the more difficult to accept.
But he did not act on his desires.
Leaning against the door in weary resolve, he realized the significance of the scene he’d just had with Lady Mary. He had inadvertently ended in sharing more than his convictions about relationships, which was a clear waste of effort, for she was not likely to see any opinion besides her own as having merit. From her questions, it was obvious that the lady had guessed at his feelings for her daughter. What she might make of it he had no notion. Knowing her estimation of him, the knight had much doubt that the Lady of Malvern would tell Fellis what had passed between them. ’Twould not serve her purpose to do so. To tell her daughter of Stephen’s feelings would only serve to make Fellis more attracted to the knight.
Stephen sighed, too tired to care what the Lady of Malvern might do, too filled with self-condemnation.
He knew that he had to pull himself together and put what had happened between himself and Fellis behind him. If not for his own good, then hers. He had no wish to harm her further.
As he thought about the betrayal in her eyes, Stephen realized what he must do. He had to force himself to face her, to beg her forgiveness, then ask her if they might put it behind them. It was the only way.
She was still obligated to marry Wynn. And heaven help him, Stephen meant to make that as painless for her as it could possibly be.
It was up to him to help her.
Fellis looked up from her sewing to see Stephen standing in the entry of her mother’s solar. A hot flush rose in her throat and face as she found herself drowning in the sight of him, so tall and strong and vital.
She could feel her mother’s eyes upon her from where she sat near the table, which was covered with threads, cloth and all manner of trims. But Fellis did not look at her.
She could not take her gaze from the man. “I beg your leave to speak with you, Lady Fellis,” he said formally.
Her cheeks paled at the remoteness in his expression. Since the day in the wood, he had not so much as spoken to her. Now he treated her with this coldness.
Fellis looked up when her mother stood. There was a certain thoughtfulness in the older woman’s expression as she turned from her daughter to face the knight. Fellis also sensed a new but unmistakable hint of respect in her tone as she addressed him. “If you will excuse me I must see to something in the kitchens.”
Before Fellis could even begin to think on this, the knight nodded with equal courtesy and she went from the room.
Alone now, with the tall, silent man, Fellis found herself focusing only on him.
Gazing down at the length of pale blue sendal in her hands, Fellis viewed it through a glaze of unshed tears.
Why was he here? Hadn’t Stephen Clayburn done enough? What perturbed her even more was that he seemed so remote with her. What, pray, had she done to make him so?
With the thought came the realization that she could not let him see how much his rejection of her hurt. If what had passed between them was so distasteful to Stephen Clayburn that he must treat her so coldly she would at least retain some semblance of pride.
She held her head high, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “You wish to speak to me.”
He came farther into the room, but only a few steps. “Let me first say, my lady, that I wish to beg your forgiveness for what occurred several days past. I am sorry for overstepping the very boundaries of honor which I had set. I accept full blame for all.”
Blame, she thought. How very ironic that he would put it so. That the most wondrous and beautiful experience of her life could be reduced to such a word. It truly amazed and further saddened her that he could view what he had done to her as being blameful.
What could she then do but allow him to think as he would? It was the only way to salvage even a modicum of her self-respect, though it must be obvious even to Stephen that she had precious little of that where he was concerned.
She knew he was waiting for a reply.
Summing up courage she had no idea she possessed, Fellis raised her chin. “You need have no concern, Sir Knight. I have no more wish to discuss the matter than you. Suffice it to say that there was a mistake made, though not all of the responsibility is yours, some must be laid at my own feet.” She looked away. “I hope now, that you will not speak of it again. ’Tis best forgotten.”
He looked confused for a moment, then nodded emphatically. “Very well then.” The words seemed to express his relief well enough though his expression did not reflect that same emotion. If she had not known better she would have sworn he appeared disappointed.
Fellis watched closely as, taking a deep breath, he glanced away and back at her. “I have news to share with you.”
Even before he went on, Fellis knew then what was making him uneasy.
Surely it must be about Wynn.
He spoke, confirming her thoughts. “Wynn has sent word that he wishes another meeting concerning the marriage.”
There was a sinking sensation in her stomach. “He has decided.”
The knight spoke without emotion, his long fingers, those same fingers that had moved her to utter his name against his lips, toyed with the hilt of his sword. “
One would believe so.”
Fellis shook her head to rid it of those intimate thoughts and forced herself to attend what the knight was saying. She made herself form a reply though her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. “I will trust you to hear his answer and bring news of it back to me.”
Stephen looked to her with disappointment in his first unguarded show of emotion since coming into the solar. “Lady Fellis, I beg you to reconsider. I know that the previous meeting did not go as well as it might have. But could you not give it another chance? Wynn is good man and would not hurt you by intent. He has said he would deal with the problem of Ardeth. She can have no bearing on the course of events.”
Fellis winced at hearing the other woman’s name. She frowned at Stephen, not out of anger at Ardeth but at him. Had he no understanding that the other girl must be in pain at losing the man she loved?
Yet she gave away no hint of her feelings as she answered him. “I do not question that. As you say, he seems a good enough man and will surely do what he must. As far as I am concerned, there really is no need for me to attend this meeting.” She shrugged. “I am simply a pawn in this.”
He came toward her, reaching out a hand and then drawing it back before he actually touched her. “But there is need, my lady. Wynn will surely become your husband. It is for your good to know him better, to become familiar with him. ’Twill make the marriage more acceptable to you when the time comes.”
She felt a rising ire. Did he think she would refuse the Welshman now, that he must still attempt to convince her? There was no need. “I have said I will comply. I am not so faint of heart that I would go back on my word at this late hour.”
He replied, “At least come and speak with Wynn one more time. There is no need for you to go to him a stranger and I fear the marriage will be hard enough for you as it is. This may be your last opportunity to see him before the event takes place.”
Fellis, looking at the earnestness on Stephen’s face, could not doubt that he meant what he said. How could she tell him that it didn’t matter how many times she might meet with Wynn? She would never love him.
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