by S A Monk
"So how many children would you like to see placed?" Nahla asked her. Gabrielle smiled and shook her head. "All of them, but there are two score and ten."
"So many." Farouk shook his head sadly. "There are nearly that many here in our orphanage."
"I don't suppose we can place them all." Gabrielle stared into the thick black liquid in her porcelain cup. "Maybe we could at least bring them here where they would have a better chance at being adopted by Muslim families. My intent is to protect their heritage and religious traditions. While the Brothers of Saint John take excellent care of them, they cannot provide the precepts of their Muslim religion, not the way of life the children should know. If Christians adopt them, they will lose the religion of their parents. That does not seem fair or just."
Both husband and wife stared at Gabrielle with surprise, then with open admiration.
"That is a very unusual point of view for a Christian woman," Farouk stated with a warmly approving smile. "Are you sure you are not of Muslim heritage, like my friend here?"
Gabrielle rarely spoke of her liberal views regarding religion and heritage. She’d been raised a Christian Catholic, and adhered to those precepts, but had learned to respect those of Muslim faith. Her Christian peers were not understand or approve of her beliefs, with the exception of Brother Giles and Brother Lucien.
She admonished herself silently for thinking of him as a Brother of the Temple. He was that no more. "My mother was a very tolerate person and taught me that our Muslim neighbors were not our enemy. Sadly, my father does not share that opinion."
She did not add that there had been many times when she had looked in her mirror and wondered at the lack of resemblance to her father, even her mother. Simone had been small and fair skinned, with very light brown hair. Armand was even fairer-haired. While her own hair was brown, it was much darker than her mother’s. And her skin was a light olive shade. Many thought it was due to her being outdoors so much, but Gabrielle knew differently. Her entire body was a darker hue than any of the Europeans. It had nothing to do with the sun. Reynald had never commented on it, but she’d seen Lucien’s curiosity. The only thing she seemed to have in common with her parents were her blue eyes, and she had often wondered why that was so.
"Well," Nahla Mansur offered. "We can go to the orphanage tomorrow morning and talk to the headmaster and the imam. Hopefully, they will be able to advise us and give us some solutions."
"Will they talk to me?" Gabrielle wondered. Some Islamic clerics were very traditional and frowned on close associations with Christians.
"Oh yes. Both men think as you do, Lady Gabrielle. They believe our Muslim children should be placed in Muslim homes. They will not hold your faith against you."
Lucien set his empty coffee cup down on the low lacquered table between them, pleased by the assistance his friends were willing to give Gabrielle. They were much like Hazir and his extended family; tolerant, generous people. He had guessed the Mansurs would like Gabrielle and accept her into their home. It was a good place for her to be. She would be safe and kept very busy arranging futures for her orphans. It relieved him that he would not have to worry about her while he was away from her for a few days.
As he had kept all indication of their intimacy from the Mansurs', he was surprised when they gave him and Gabrielle rooms upstairs that were across from one another. Of course, there were only three rooms on the second floor, for Farouk and his wife slept on the first floor. Still, he regretted that he and Gabrielle would not be able to share a room.
+++
From her second story window, Gabrielle stared out over the city's nightscape. A crescent moon hung among the stars that swept across the midnight sky in a milky cloud of sprinkled glitter. Below, on the streets, lamplights flickered in the faint evening breeze. In this part of the city, all was quiet at this late hour. It was mostly a residential sector, with only a smattering of shops in between the multi-storied houses with their rooftop patios.
The Mansurs had a lovely ne atop their house. She had been up to enjoy it several times already. Colorful bougainvillea climbed the walls and draped over the edges. A large stripped silk awning provided shade, and leafy potted palms provided privacy She had been here nearly a sennight, and the Mansur's hospitality had made her feel as if she was at home with Hazir and his daughter in Jerusalem.
Every day, except one, she and Nahla had gone to the orphanage. As predicted, the local imam and the headmaster had both welcomed her without reservation. Gabrielle had been surprised to discover that they had actually heard of her. Her efforts to rescue children displaced and uprooted by the violence in Palestine had reached the ears of Saladin himself, the imam had informed her.
They had known she would come some day to seek placement for the Arab orphans of Jerusalem. To her relief, they had not known her name, only her deeds. Gabrielle recalled King Guy mentioning this to Lucien at his birthday party. She was as uncomfortable in Damascus with the praise as she had been in Jerusalem. She wanted no reward or acclaim for what she did. She simply wanted the children to have a chance for a happy life after losing all that had been familiar to them.
There had been so much heartache and loss in Christ’s homeland. She felt compelled to alleviate some small portion of it, if she could. But rescuing its youngest victims was only the first step. They needed care, which she had gladly given, and they needed good homes. Now she was pleased to have Muslim friends who would assist her with the latter.
Over the past week, several families had promised to help, and the orphanage had agreed to take any children who were not placed in homes. All that remained was transporting the children from Jerusalem to Damascus. No easy task, as the region prepared for war. It was not a safe time for anyone to travel or cross the border between Palestine and Syria. Much of the plans that Gabrielle made with the imam and the headmaster had to await the Caliph’s next moves.
Jerusalem was, of course, Saladin’s goal. The ancient city was as important to the Muslims as it was to the Christians. It had been at the center of the conflict that had begun nearly four score years ago. If the sultan was victorious in his initial assaults, Jerusalem would probably be attacked vigorously in the months to come. More than any other time in its eighty year occupation by the Christians, the Holy City was in dire jeopardy. The Muslims had a great leader, while the Christians had a weak, ineffectual one.
When she thought of all her charges at the Hospitaller orphanage, she saw their big dark eyes looking at her so full of hope and wondered what would happen to them if Jerusalem became a battleground. It was said that when the Christian knights conquered the city for the first time, they massacred every Jew and Muslim within its walls, regardless of age, in a rampage that left the streets flowing ankle deep in blood. Even hard-bitten soldiers were shocked by the slaughter.
Gabrielle knew her path led back to Jerusalem, while Lucien’s would probably lead elsewhere if war erupted. If Saladin was victorious and took the city, would he pillage and plunder the way the Franks had? Surely, he would spare Allah’s children.
It was a grim future that she contemplated before her bedroom window at the end of the week. Her mood and her thoughts were made even darker by Lucien’s long absence. The day after arriving at the smithy’s house, he had left. He had not told Gabrielle or his friends where he was going; only that he would be away a few days. Gabrielle had thought a few days might mean two or three.
She understood now that he had brought her to this house to be safe, in addition to making her arrangements for the orphans, while he went about his job of gathering information. But where could he have gone that it took six days? She had stopped being able to sleep much three nights ago. Tonight, she looked out over the city, sick with worry. Had something happened to him? Would he ever come back to her?
She was a woman who had been unprotected and unloved nearly all of her life— until Lucien de Aubric had entered it. If she had to, she could find her way home on her own, but how could she
leave the city without him; without knowing what had become of him? He was in enemy territory. If his true identity was discovered, he would be captured and imprisoned, maybe even put to death. He would never link her to himself. No one but the Mansurs would know about her. And what had happened to Omar and Nephrim? Gabrielle hadn’t seen either of them since they had arrived in Damascus. She did not know how if they still were in the city, and she wasn’t sure if she should try to contact them. Surely the Mansurs would let her know if something had happened to Lucien.
She wanted to ask Farouk and Nahla if they’d heard anything, but she did not think they knew Lucien’s true purpose in the city. They’d never dropped a hint that they even knew he was a Templar. If they did, they surely would have thought it strange that he was with her. Still, if he did not return soon, she would have to go to someone for help, either to find Lucien or to go home.
As they had so many times in the past few days, tears rose in her eyes and began spilling down her cheeks. Moving away from the open window, Gabrielle unbelted her robe and sat down on the edge of her bed. The ropes took her weight with a squeak.
She turned at the waist and looked back at the pillows. She could lie against them all night and sleep would elude her, she was certain. Still, she supposed she must try.
An hour later, she was out of bed and pacing the room in her bare feet and night shift when she heard a barely audible noise coming from across the corridor. It was so faint she thought her ears had deceived her until she heard it again, closer this time. Someone was definitely outside her room.
Thinking it must be a servant, she pulled open the door and peered into the unlit corridor. Wearing nothing more than an unbleached linen undertunic and a pair of loose-legged trousers, Lucien met her in the portal and gave her a devastating white-toothed grin.
“I did not think you would be awake.”
Her first reaction was one of overwhelming relief. Anger quickly followed, but it did not overrule her first emotion. She gave into impulse and flung herself into his arms. As he chuckled and bent to kiss her, she pulled him into her room, stepping backwards with her arms locked tightly around his neck.
“Oh God, Lucien!” she groaned. “Where have you been? I have been so worried!”
He put a little space between them and looked into her glistening eyes. “I am sorry I worried you, sweet Gabi. I….”
“I don’t care!” she decided as she grasped the end of his tunic and began to lift it over his head. Dear God, right now all she wanted was to touch him; to make sure he was whole and uninjured!
Beneath the thin fabric, she heard a smothered chuckle, but she had him stripped of the garment within seconds despite his superior height and width. The instant his chest was bared to her, she began kissing him all over. Not an inch of his dark golden skin escaped the passionate caress of her mouth.
Her fingers swept through the sprinkling of dark hair on his chest. It was soft as a cat’s fur. Beneath it, she explored the contours of his powerful muscles, mapping the corded sinews that swept down from his neck to his arms, kneading the swells with her whole hand. He was a powerfully built man, tall and strong enough to chase away her anxieties.
Gabrielle bent forward and replaced her fingers with her lips again. She placed scattered kisses everywhere her mouth could reach, and finally settled on the hard button of one male nipple. Beneath her cheek, she heard a deep groan rumble through him. The vibration of it mingled with his accelerated heartbeat.
“Aw, Gabi, you missed me,” he whispered as he hooked an arm around her and bent to nuzzle her loose curly hair.
“More than I shall burden you with.” With a wicked smile, she too hooked an arm around his waist, while her other hand floated slowly downward. It stopped at the corded tie to his loose trousers. She had it unknotted in a few heartbeats. The much washed cotton fell silently to the floor.
Lucien gasped as her long elegantly tapered fingers found his swollen shaft and circled it. Maybe he had taught her too well, he mused with another groan as she applied all the skill she had learned. When she cupped and fondled the heavy sacks beneath his cock, he dropped his head back and shuddered.
Gabrielle whispered something husky he did not catch, then sank to her knees before him. Desire slammed through his gut and pooled in his loins as her full lips opened over him and took him against the hot slide and swirl of her clever tongue.
Her hands rose to his hips, and her fingers molded themselves to his taut buttocks.
Matching the rhythm of her mouth, they squeezed and released, kneaded and fondled, pulling him closer and closer to the hot shuddering climax that threatened his very sanity. God have mercy! He could not restrain himself much longer if she continued.
His hands swept into her hair and fit themselves to her scalp. With a wild groan, he pulled her mouth off of him and drug her to her feet. He made swift work of the gauzy night shift he had given her, wondering how he had enough restraint left to refrain from ripping the gown.
The instant the cloth barrier between their flesh was gone, he pulled her feverishly into his arms, crushing her full tightly budded breasts against his chest. He felt wild, and on the verge of losing all control. He buried his face in her hair and took several long droughts of air, breathing in her fresh lavender scent. It soothed the raging beast inside him.
He cradled the firm flesh of her buttocks and again felt her hands in the same place on him. She squeezed, and he rubbed against her, rotating his hips in a shuddering circle against her downy soft fleece.
It was too much. He could not keep an iron hand on his desires much longer. This woman unraveled him like no one had ever done. It took no more than a look from her to make him hard, but since discovering that he loved her, all his feelings for her, emotional and physical, had intensified a hundredfold.
“Lucien, I’ve never done that…” she murmured against his shoulder wondrously.
His befuddled brain did not understand her comment. He couldn’t resist fondling her plump breast as it rested against his chest. “What, my sweet?” he asked distractedly, fingering her nipple.
“Put my mouth on a man’s…. Well, you know.” Gabrielle felt herself burning with embarrassment. What was a proper word for a lady to use, she wondered. “I never would do that for Reynald. It disgusted me. My refusal was the source of several punishments.” Lucien moved his hand to her velvety soft hip and simply looked down at her as she tilted her head back to gaze at his reaction. “I just wanted you to know that you were the first, and that I wanted, truly wanted, to do that to you. Did you like it?”
The innocence of her question and the heart-wrenching nature of her confession made him grin in a mixture of tender amusement and deep love. “I liked it very much, Gabi— too much. In another moment, I would have lost my wits and spilled my seed inside your…. Well,” he amended with an embarrassed flush of his own. “I would rather be inside your body when I come.”
“You do not think me too wanton?” she asked shyly.
“Never. You always make me feel special.”
“I love you, Lucien de Aubric.”
“Oh, Gabi, words cannot adequately tell you what you mean to me.”
Stepping onto her toes, Gabrielle locked her arms around his neck and captured his lips, sweetly invading his mouth with her tongue. The firestorm she reignited was made evident by the tremors that racked his big body. Gabrielle reveled in it, but stopped him from pushing her backwards onto the bed.
“The bed ropes squeak very badly.”
Lucien growled, then swept her up into his arms. As she gasped and giggled, he grabbed a fistful of bed coverings and strode toward the door.
“Is your bed quieter?” she whispered in the dark corridor between their rooms.
“No. It too squeaks.” He looked down at the naughty laughter in her eyes and kissed her on the forehead. “What say you about going to the rooftop?”
“I would say that would be very romantic to make love beneath all the bea
utiful stars out tonight, but you have left me nothing to come back downstairs in.”
He nodded toward the bed coverings she clutched. “I will return you safely to your room before the household wakes.”
“Perfect.”
And it was. The dark rooftop patio was lit only by the brilliance of all the stars twinkling overhead and the shimmering arc of the crescent moon. The profusion of the delicate bougainvillea flowers scented the air to mingle with Lucien’s freshly washed body.
Gabrielle buried her nose in his soft chest hairs and nuzzled him with a sigh as he set her on her feet. Turning away for a brief moment, he swept the blankets and linens out to make a bed for them under the stars. Together they sank down onto the warm soft nest.
Gabrielle tumbled backward with a gentle shove from Lucien, then giggled again as he stretched his big hard body over hers.
“I’m feeling a little bold tonight, Templar,” she teased him. Then she thoroughly surprised him by squirming out from under him and climbing on top of him. “I think I shall bind you to me tonight, Sir Aubric.”
Having been so frightened for him for days, she needed to imprint her body and soul on him, though what she really wanted was to blend into one being with him so that nothing would ever separate them.
There was too much desperation in her loving, but Lucien seemed not to notice as Gabrielle poured her whole being into their lovemaking, fiercely driving away her fears.
Lucien accommodated her masterfully, giving her the control she seemed to want. Her fervor delighted him. In response, he suckled on her breasts and stroked her everywhere that he knew drove her wild. The feel and taste of her was maddening, and when she impaled herself on him, he recognized the end of his forbearance.
Gabrielle felt him teetering on the edge of his control and rocked backwards, then forwards, dragging her long hair over his body. With a shuddering growl, he rolled her smoothly beneath him. She giggled, pleased that she had tormented him to the point of such desperate need.
