Velvet Touch

by Catherine Archer

  Surely his plan would succeed. All he need do was set it in motion. ’Twas not as if telling Wynn of his feelings for Fellis would come as any surprise. The other man had given Stephen leave to do as he would where she was concerned.

  So excited was he by the notion that he might actually find a way to obtain his heart’s desire that he squeezed the woman in his arms with excitement.

  She woke with a start, her eyes flying open. When she saw his face, she smiled with contentment. “I knew you wanted me.”

  “Wanted you?” He raised her slender hand to his mouth to press a hot kiss upon her palm. “Tell me you will marry me, Fellis. I cannot rest until you are mine.”

  For a long moment there was only silence, then her eyes widened in horror and she pushed away from him. Stephen was so startled by her actions that he did not try to hold her to him but released her immediately.

  Fellis sat up, pulling the bed cover to hide her breasts, as if suddenly realizing her nakedness. She turned away from him, shaking her head. “Marry you. Nay I will not marry you, Stephen. Have you gone mad that you would even suggest such a thing?”

  He rose to go and stand beside the bed facing her, making no effort to hide his own nakedness. He no longer had any secrets from Fellis, she was the other half of him. And he meant for her to understand that he could not go on without her.

  But before he could say any of what was in his heart, she leapt from the bed. “Wynn, dear Lord, how could I have forgotten. I am surely the most selfish female that ever took breath.”

  “You are not…” he began.

  She stopped him with the look of anguish in her eyes. “Stephen, I came here to tell that I believe Wynn is in danger. We may be too late to help him already and it is my fault.” She was shaking so badly that it was difficult to think and she did not seem to be able to find her clothes. “What have I done?” she cried, finally locating her robe across the room on the floor before the fire. She moved to take it up in her trembling hands.

  He shook his head in confusion. “What is this about, Fellis? You make no sense.”

  She rounded on him in utter frustration. “Stephen, can you not understand? It was Wynn who was the object of the attack in the wood, not you.”

  Stephen frowned and came forward to grasp her shoulders in his hands. “Fellis, what do you mean that it was Wynn?”

  “I talked with Grandmother about it and she helped me to see the truth,” she answered, trying to calm herself enough to explain. But her guilt at having forgotten in the heat of making love to Stephen was great. She took a deep breath. “Wynn is the one they must rid themselves of in order to stop this wedding. He has already agreed to go forward. By killing you they only risk angering King Edward further. In order to live up to his agreement, Wynn would be forced to punish them himself. You saw him that day, the way he spoke to Ardeth. He is bent on seeing this done.”

  Stephen stood every still. “Yes, I can see that this notion has merit, but how can we help? We have no idea who might be at fault. Wynn would not believe us. Part of the reason I never thought any further than I did on the matter was that both he and Ardeth were so adamant that I was the target.”

  “How could she do anything else?” Fellis said. “She could not tell Wynn the truth. It is very likely that her own father is part of the plot.”

  “Her father?” Stephen replied with growing confusion. “Owain? Fellis, this cannot be. Wynn trusts him completely. Why do you think this?”

  Quickly, and with growing anxiety, she related the story her grandmother had told her about Owain’s having poisoned his own cousin.

  “Dear Lord,” Stephen answered. He shook his head from side to side. “How am I to convince Wynn of this? He will never believe me over Owain. You have said yourself that they believe your father was responsible for the poisoning.”

  “You must try, Stephen,” she pleaded. “I know that if anyone can convince him of the truth it would be you.”

  Stephen wiped a weary hand over his face. “I wish I felt your faith in me was justified, Fellis. I am afraid that this time I may not be able to make this aright.”

  “But you must!” she cried. “If Wynn dies, the fighting will resume and that cannot happen.”

  He reached for his discarded clothing. “I had best act quickly then, for your father has set up the first meeting to discuss the terms of the marriage contract on the morrow. If they are going to act against Wynn again, it might very well be as he is coming here. ’Twould be easier for Owain and his followers to blame your father for his death.”

  Fellis dropped the blanket, her shyness forgotten as she pulled on the robe. “You must wait for a moment while I dress.”

  He stopped in the act of pulling on his tunic. “Nay, Fellis, you are not coming. It is too dangerous.”

  Her lips set in a mutinous line as she pulled the robe about her. “I am coming. And let me tell you that if you leave without me I shall only follow on my own.”

  He looked down at her, finding himself stimulated by her spirit and beauty. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed not only with anger but with his loving. He could not restrain a grin. “Are we having our first quarrel?”

  She flipped her tousled locks back over her shoulder as she eyed him with distrust at this abrupt change in attitude. “Hardly.”

  He could not prevent himself from kissing her then, quickly but fiercely. “Knowing your ill nature, I’m sure there will be many once we are wed.”

  Her lips thinned, but she withheld the retort that sprang to her mind Stephen was so handsome in the firelight, and she could still feel the lingering evidence of his loving in her heavy limbs, despite her anxiety for Wynn ap Dafydd. She knew there would be no marriage between them. Yet she could not argue with Stephen on that now.

  She had come to realize that love did not work the way she had supposed. Far from abating with each bit of Stephen she shared, it seemed to grow until she knew that being without him would be as losing all her senses—sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell. Naught would reach her once he was gone, not the warmth of the sun nor the chill of the darkness.

  And go he must, especially now when he was so bent on having her for himself, not only as a lover but as his wife.

  Fellis did not delude herself into thinking Stephen’s proposal meant they could actually marry. She knew his words were brought on by the incredible desire that drove them together like a tangible force.

  She must marry Wynn. It was her duty to do so. She must make peace for her people.

  Stephen knew this. Once away from Malvern, and her, he would realize how mad he was for suggesting such a thing as marriage.

  She knew how deeply a part of him his honor was. Marrying her would mean forsaking his own moral code and his duty to the king. Fellis knew this would only make him hate her in the end. Thus, even if the knight was genuine in his desire to wed her, she could not allow him to do so.

  No matter how badly she longed to be his, not for one night but for always, Fellis could not allow their passion for each other to destroy them.

  Turning so that Stephen would not see the truth on her face, Fellis said, “I will be back in a moment. And make no mistake that if you leave me I will follow you.” She then hurried from the chamber.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fellis hurried down the corridor and into her room.

  She barely made a sound as she went to the trunk against the wall and removed several garments. The fire had burned low in the grate and it was difficult to see exactly what she was putting on.

  To her relief her grandmother remained sleeping.

  Grabbing her leather shoes from beneath the edge of the bed, Fellis then made a hasty exit.

  Stephen was waiting in the hallway.

  He seemed impatient to be off and she passed him without slowing down as she made her way to the tower stairs that led to the outside of the keep, rather than taking the ones that would lead them through the hall.

&nbs
p; The knight followed her without speaking.

  Once they gained the courtyard, Stephen halted her with a hand on her arm. “Fellis, I do not have any specific plan for what to do once we arrive. I do not wish to bring your father into this before we speak with Wynn himself.” He looked at her closely. “Is there no way for me to convince you that you should remain here? There could be great risk for you in going there with me tonight. If what we believe is true it seems likely that someone will try to stop us.”

  Her lips thinned. “Nay, Stephen. Have I not made clear that I will not remain behind? I understand what you say but I am not afraid. We shall do this together.”

  With a resigned nod, he said, “So be it. We shall do this together.” Stephen then started toward the stable. It took only a few minutes for him to saddle each of their horses. Stephen then drew them out into the deserted courtyard.

  All of this was accomplished in relative silence, for they did not wish to draw the attention of the guard posted at the castle gates.

  Once Fellis was mounted, Ebony danced beneath her restively. It was as if the mare somehow sensed her mistress’s own agitation. Reaching out, she ran a soothing hand over the mare’s neck. The horse calmed and Fellis whispered, “There’s a good girl.”

  Stephen swung up into the saddle and looked toward the portcullis with a pensive frown. He turned to Fellis. “I have no doubt that the guard will allow me to exit without incident, but I am not so certain as to whether he will do so if I take you with me.”

  She motioned him closer to her, for though he had spoken softly Fellis was fearful of the sound carrying farther in the stillness. “Shh.” She then pointed off in the other direction. “There is another gate. It is not tall enough for us to pass through while mounted but we can go that way.”

  He nodded, motioning for her to lead the way.

  Only a few minutes later they had gained the outside of the castle wall and, so it seemed, with none the wiser.

  Stephen prodded his mount to a gallop and Fellis followed suit. Though she was not quite comfortable with the pace, she made no complaint but simply held on to the reins tightly.

  They raced down the hill and into the enveloping darkness. Looking about them, Fellis realized that night seemed so much darker from outside the protective walls of the keep. She could make out very little of what was around her and could only trust in Stephen to lead the way. Fellis was thankful for Ebony’s surefootedness. One wrong step could mean disaster.

  They skirted the village without slowing, and soon the forest on the other side of it loomed before her eyes.

  Once inside the trees, it was near impossible to see anything. Fellis could only keep her gaze focused on Stephen’s back ahead of her, even as she listened intently for any unusual sounds around them.

  The other times Fellis had followed Stephen across her father’s land and onto Wynn’s, they had only traveled for a short time. Now, riding along behind him, she felt as if the ride were interminable.

  Telling herself that it was only the darkness and her own anxiety over what would happen when they did reach Wynn’s stronghold, Fellis refused to give in to the feelings of fearfulness. She herself had insisted upon coming and she would not delay Stephen any more than she already had.

  Though he had admitted that he had no real plan in mind, Fellis was confident that Stephen would find a way to see Wynn. It was their only hope of helping him and thus securing the peace their people so desperately needed.

  Stephen knew that Fellis would be having a difficult time following him, and tried to adjust his pace as far as possible in order to accommodate her. Though she had insisted on accompanying him, he did not feel right about pushing her too far. She was still a fairly inexperienced rider.

  As they rode on, Stephen was beginning to form a plan for warning the Welshman. He had not wanted to wake Lord Richard, firstly because of being delayed, and secondly, because he was not sure how Wynn’s men would react if he was to arrive with the baron and his men. Stephen did not wish to inadvertently create more problems. He only hoped that Wynn’s men would be willing to allow him to see their master at this hour. The knight was aware of a growing sense of urgency in telling the Welshman what they suspected.

  As they drew closer to Wynn’s stronghold, Stephen recalled the first time he had met with Wynn and how he had been stopped by his men in the forest. Stephen slowed his pace, not wishing to appear threatening to anyone who might be on watch.

  Fellis did the same behind him, calling out softly, “Is aught wrong?”

  Stephen turned, raising his hand for silence. He whispered, “Nay, but go quietly. We simply do not want our purpose to be misinterpreted.”

  She made no reply and Stephen turned his attention back to the path. He went along cautiously, his gaze searching the blanketing darkness around them. Stephen was barely able to see more than a few feet in front of him, but he was not overly concerned with this as he trusted Gabriel to find the way. This was not the first nighttime adventure they had undertaken together.

  What was different was that this time Fellis was with him, distracting him with worries for her safety. He also knew that a man’s life could very well be at stake if he made a wrong decision now.

  It was only a short time later that Gabriel snorted and tossed his head as if sensing something ahead of them on the path. Thinking that it must be Wynn’s guards hiding in the trees up ahead, Stephen prodded the horse forward.

  Before they could progress another step, several horses and riders emerged from the trees. Not being taken off guard as he had been the first time, Stephen hailed them immediately. “I wish to be taken to Wynn ap Dafydd.”

  There was no reply as one of the fellows took out his knife and leapt upon him. Surprise did not hold Stephen captive for long. He grappled with the assailant, who grunted and tried to force him sideways off the stallion. “Stay your hand,” Stephen called out.

  From the thud behind him, Stephen thought Fellis had not been so fortunate as to remain seated. His suspicions were further confirmed when he heard her gasp as the wind was knocked from her. She cried, “Get off me, you great beast.”

  Panic raced through his veins at the sound of her muffled voice. Without further ado, he pushed the other man away from him and heard him hit the ground.

  Stephen could only think of his beloved. But at the back of his mind was a growing anger that Wynn’s men would treat them this way.

  Before anyone could even think to stop him, he had jerked the fellow from atop her and thrown him aside.

  She held out her arms. “Stephen.”

  He took her to him. “Are you well?”

  She took a deep breath and moved a hand to her backside gingerly. “I think so, yes.”

  By now the attackers had recovered their equilibrium and they moved to circle the embracing couple.

  Stephen looked around, not able to make out any faces in the darkness but hoping someone would recognize him. “I am Stephen Clayburn. You are Wynn ap Dafydd’s men, I take it? I wish to speak with him.”

  The answer came from a voice with a thick throaty accent. “You make mistake, Sais.“

  Stephen stared in the direction of this voice. Something about the tone, some sense of threat, told him that all was not as it should be. “Are you Wynn’s men?”

  There was a long silence. Then something was said in Welsh and they were set upon. Thinking only that he must protect Fellis, Stephen tried to push her behind him. But there were too many for him to fight at the same time. He became separated from her as he was beset from all sides. There was no time to draw his weapon as they jumped on him, and he fought them with his fists, punching and jabbing ferociously. In spite of the fact that he managed to injure several of the men in the struggle, Stephen was finally taken.

  He was plagued by fear of what might be happening to Fellis and strained to free himself from the men who held him captive. His arms were wrenched up from behind and he could only call out to her as he felt his wr
ists being tied together. “Fellis.”

  She answered immediately. “I am well. I did not struggle and they have not hurt me.”

  Despite her assurances, Stephen was filled with rage. He growled in frustration. “Look at us. We are one knight and a girl. We offer no threat to you. What is this about?”

  No reply was forthcoming.

  There was an exchange of words in Welsh and a moment later the flare of a torch lit the night, creating a small circle of light in the darkness. Several sets of suspicious eyes studied Stephen and Fellis where they stood. He recognized none of the faces around him.

  Stephen looked to Fellis and saw that she too was bound. She lurched away from the man who held her and the fellow allowed her to move to stand beside him. She shrank back against him. Stephen could hardly fault her on that, for the men did look somewhat fearsome with the light flickering over their sharp, lean features.

  One man seemed to be wearing an expression of deep concentration. He was silent for a long moment, studying Stephen in the light of the torch. He turned to one of the other men and spoke in his own tongue. From his attitude and tone of voice, Stephen surmised that he was their leader. There was a heated exchange in which the men seemed to be arguing about something. The only words Stephen understood were Wynn, Owain, and Ardeth. Not much to go on.

  After a time, Stephen saw two of them nod, though they did not seem pleased with whatever they were agreeing to. Those two then departed into the darkness.

  When the argument broke out amongst their captors, Fellis had been unable to comprehend what had caused it. She understood so little Welsh and they spoke very quickly in their heat. But she did know that it had something to do with Wynn, Ardeth and Ardeth’s father. After the two men left, there was a long silence, then she and Stephen were led to tiny clearing some distance from the trail.

  While they waited for Fellis knew not what, she and Stephen were allowed to sit upon a fallen tree trunk. Obviously they did not see the knight as a possible threat, bound and outnumbered as he was. While one of the men set about building a fire, their leader began to pace nervously.