No mention of Roger’s death would be uttered in hopes of buying the people of Stolweg a little more time. Upon discovering the cold reception, the strangers would reassess their strategy. Anna estimated that it would be a matter of hours before the construction of the machines commenced.
From memory, Cellach had redrawn the machine for Lord Baldric. The weapons of the keep would make nary a dent, so well armored were the workings. There was no chance of destroying the mordemurs by conventional means.
But Anna had noticed a weakness in the design. If she and her people were to survive, she would have to take matters into her own hands. This time, she would not tarry. Waiting too long to act had cost her her family. She wanted to go over her idea with Lark before presenting it to Baldric and the others.
He and Warin had just returned. They’d done what they could to slow the enemy’s progress but judged that the weapons would arrive in another two or three days. King Godwin’s army had decamped for Stolweg but would not arrive in time. Anna’s heart ached thinking about the beautiful and peaceful land below marred by the approaching Nifolhadajans.
The air around her cooled as the sun faded, giving way to the deeper blue of the encroaching night. Above her, the stars were already bright in the sky. They gave her hope as she walked back to her chamber. She put aside all thoughts of impending battle and focused instead on Lark. They’d spent too many nights apart, and her heart ached for him.
When Anna entered her chamber, Grainne was there, laying out her sleeping gown. Her maid helped her to shrug out of her dress. “Would you like me to stay awhile, Lady Anna?” Grainne asked.
“Thank you, Grainne, but no,” she answered, loving that her friends had taken to calling her Lady Anna. She pulled on a robe over her sleeping gown. “It’s been a long day, and I’d like to check on the children.”
Outside her room, they moved in opposite directions, with Grainne taking Anna’s tray to the kitchen. The children were sound asleep. Piles of clothing, toys, and the like filled the room. Anna smiled, proud that her people were so giving.
She was making her way back to her room when she passed her chamber door, and instead walked on to Lark’s quarters. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been avoiding her. She knocked determinedly on his door and waited for him to answer. When the door remained closed to her, she made up her mind and opened it herself. He was not within. So she sat on the lone chair in the chamber and waited for him. And waited.
The moon ascended, its light flooding the room, marking the time as it cast its cool wash upon the floor. Anna lingered, following the splash of light as it inched away from her. When her impatience grew too great to bear, she stood and paced. Finally, she leaned against the wide, sloping ledge of the window.
A breeze swirled through the room as she bathed in the moon’s beam. She skimmed her hands forward along the sill, feeling the cold, hard stone as it inclined to the outside. It was difficult to imagine a weapon that could penetrate the bulky walls of Stolweg.
“Where are you, Lark?” she whispered to the night. She sighed, knowing she’d tarried here too long.
As Anna turned from the window, the air shifted in the dark room. She peered across the dim chamber. There was just enough illumination from the window for her to recognize Lark’s familiar silhouette. His head was lowered, and he didn’t seem to see her. She waited, breath held, as he lit the candle on the table. It took a mere instant for him to sense her presence. His eyes, though unaccustomed to the dark, homed in on her immediately.
“What took you so long?” Anna asked, barely managing to breathe.
“Another meeting with Baldric,” Lark answered, and took a step toward her.
“So many meetings,” she said. In the flickering light, she could see the dark desire in his eyes as he approached.
“I went to your room,” he told her, his voice tight. “I knocked, and you didn’t answer.”
“I was tired of waiting,” Anna whispered. “So I came to find you.” He came closer still.
“So I see.” He was so near to her, he needed only to reach out with his hands, and she would be in his embrace.
“And here you are,” Anna murmured, knowing that at last they would be together. He took the final step. They stood toe-to-toe, and yet he did not reach for her.
“And, here you are,” Lark echoed, his voice dripping with need.
“Can you give my mind some respite from the past weeks?” she begged him. “Can you make me forget?” He closed the gap between them and crushed his mouth to hers. Her hands reached up and captured his face.
His fingers touched her cheek, then trailed down the sensitive skin along her neck. His hand came back up, and his thumb pressed gently against her trembling lower lip.
“Should I kiss you again?” he asked and, when she nodded, he bent his head to her.
Her knees, already turned to pudding from when he first entered the room, dissolved. She leaned against the wall for support while his lips devastated hers. “What else do you want?” he asked. “You’ll have to tell me, Anna.” His fingers played with the ties of her robe. Soon it was in a pile on the floor.
Only his lips and fingers had touched her, and she needed him so much more. Anna lowered her hands from his shoulders and slid them down his arms. He’d rendered her speechless by his kiss, and here he was asking her questions. She would show him what she wanted. And what she wanted was to feel his body against hers. Taking his wrists, she pulled his arms around her. Then, she reached around his waist and settled her hands on his back, drawing his body forward, hard. Lark’s arms tightened the circle in which they held each other.
“You haven’t answered me, Anna.” She gave a muffled response, her face buried in his neck, her mouth kissing and nipping his skin. Lark used his body to press her against the wall, and his hands drew up to lift her face. His eyes searched hers as he insisted, “Tell me.”
“You,” she replied, blushing deeply.
Lark smiled. “Is that all?”
She had missed him, body and soul, these last days. “I want you,” she growled. “Right here. Right now. All of you.”
He eased back, just enough to be able to lift her shift over her head. Then he pressed the length of his body against hers, and she marveled still at how well they fit together.
She gasped as his hand found her breast, and her need to feel his skin against hers grew. She fought to pull his shirt over his head, running her hands over the hard planes of his chest and down the laddered muscles of his stomach. And lower, where she could feel him straining for release from the tight leather pants that constrained him.
A deep growl emanated from within him, and his hands left off their exploration of her breasts to reach down and remove his breeches. She stared hungrily at his naked torso. His eyes, too, looked as if he were starving for her.
He lifted her suddenly, his strong hands cupping her buttocks, and she wrapped her thighs around his waist. When he pulled her forward against his body, she found herself sealed against his naked hips. Spinning with desire, she was ready for him.
Lark raised her higher before slowly lowering her body onto his jutting hardness. He groaned in pleasure even as she gasped at the feel of him inside her once again. He worked their bodies, thrusting and lifting, over and over. Anna held his shoulders, keeping him to his task.
As Lark plunged up and forward, she could feel the cool, smooth stone rubbing against her back, unforgiving against her scarred skin. His strokes seemed so much longer when set against the unyielding resistance of the wall.
His head hung over her shoulder and his breath roughened, hot and wet upon her neck. Her fingers twined into his hair, trapping him to her. “Anna, I can’t get enough of you like this. Oh God, I need more. I need to touch all of you.”
In one fluid motion, he shifted their joined bodies, setting her on the cold windowsill. His eyes, black as night, bore into hers, the intensity of his desire matched only by her own. He thrust into h
er, and thrust again. And again, until she could no longer focus and threw her head back from the heat smoldering in his gaze.
Then, his mouth found her breasts, his beard rough on her naked skin. All the while, his hips continued to move against her in long stabs. His hand reached between them, and his knuckles brushed her intimately. Anna’s cries grew louder as he teased and stroked.
The delicious tension inside her grew and grew, and she begged for him not to stop. Her body exploded. “Larkin!”
Her very essence felt as if it had shattered into a thousand pieces of bliss. And still, she wanted more. She knew Lark would continue until he pushed her over the brink again, until she forgot even herself. So she buried her face against his shoulder to muffle her cries. Her body arched against him, and he gave up her breasts. Leaning forward, he curved his body over hers as her climax continued. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her impossibly closer as he drove into her.
And finally, he shuddered, his own muted cry unintelligible in the mass of her hair. She tightened her thighs around him to ride out his final thrusts.
They stayed there, on the window sill, unable to move, barely able to breathe. He lifted his head slowly, as if it weighed twenty stone, and gazed once more into her sated eyes. She smiled, and wiped the perspiration from his brow before lifting her lips to his in a simple kiss. With her arms and legs still wrapped about him, he carried her to his bed.
• • •
“Well?” Lark murmured.
“Hmmm?” she asked him.
“Did it work?”
“Did what work?” Anna managed.
“Did I make you forget?” he purred against her ear.
“Forget what?” She sighed happily. Lark pulled her tighter to him, and so entwined, they drifted off to sleep.
It was hours before dawn when he woke her with a kiss. She stretched, arching her back deliciously as he stared in appreciation. Out of fuel, the lamp had sputtered to its end. The night was cold, and she shivered against him, before fitting herself closer to his body.
“You’re cold?” he said, rubbing his warm hand over her shoulder and down her arm.
“Not cold,” she replied. “I just don’t want this to end.”
He sighed and teased his fingers around one of her loose curls. “Nor do I.” Neither wanted to part, but both understood the need for discretion. With another deep breath, Lark sat up and stretched his arms, sitting for a moment before picking up his breeches. Once garbed, he reached for Anna’s sleeping gown and robe. Tenderly, he helped her to dress, but only after applying enough kisses to her body to last her through the coming day.
• • •
They sat side by side with their legs hanging over the end of his small bed. She did not want to break the spell they had created but needed to ask him something. “Do I just imagine it, or do the others look at me strangely? Only your regard seems unchanged. I feel, I don’t know, I feel…”
“What do you feel?” he asked.
She paused, not sure he would understand, then forged ahead regardless. “I know that people have always thought that I was different. But now the looks cast in my direction worry me.”
“You’re right, you are different.” He placed his finger on her lips before she could protest. “You are different. Perhaps because I am closer to you and know the changes you have been going through these past weeks, it did not seem to you that I saw you differently as well.”
“But your friends, Lark, they are uneasy around me.” Lark frowned, and she asked hurriedly, “What is it? You must tell me.”
His hand continued to rub her shoulders as if trying to soothe her nerves. “Do you remember what you told me about the women in your family?”
She nodded, and he continued, “Baldric knows a little too. He shared this knowledge with the other guards. I myself never realized the extent of the coming trouble. You managed to leave out much of your history.”
Anna turned away. “I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”
“I wouldn’t have,” he assured her.
“But I didn’t know that, Lark. I’ve lived with this my whole life. I don’t think anyone truly realizes what my ancestors endured. What they accomplished and triumphed over. And what they sometimes lost. I didn’t even know my own mother was capable of wielding a sword until I was sixteen. I like to think she died fighting alongside my father.” Anna lowered her voice. “My mother always tried to make me into a lady.”
“Anna,” he said, raising an imperious eyebrow at her, “you are more a lady than any woman I know.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she whispered as his hand smoothed her riotous curls. “My mother tried to keep me from learning such skills as were deemed proper only for men—fishing, hunting, fighting. Anything that could help me to prepare.”
“But if she knew you were marked, why wouldn’t she want you prepared?” Lark asked. “It doesn’t make sense, Anna.”
“I think she thought that if I eschewed these physical skills, perhaps I could escape fate’s grasp. She was trying to protect me.”
She took his hands and gazed into his eyes. “Lark, to know that one’s existence will coincide with a great upheaval—it is enough to drive a sane person mad. If I did not exist, would the upheaval be averted? I have lain awake many nights asking myself questions such as that.”
“Then it’s true? Are we on the eve of another great war?”
“I don’t know, Lark. I sometimes like to think that it has always been a coincidence or that my ancestors found their true strength because of the turmoil.”
“It’s the age-old question about the egg and the hen. Answer me this at least. Your ancestors, the women like you, did they survive?”
“As far as I know, always.”
“Good to know,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I like having you around. Now, I have a question for you. Why is it so important that you join us when we ride out?”
“I must, Lark. I am the Lady of Stolweg. It is my duty, not Baldric’s, to represent Stolweg.”
“Let Cellach go in your stead,” Lark countered vehemently, standing and crossing the room. “Why put yourself in danger if you do not need to?”
So this was why she’d felt him distancing himself from her. She rose from his bed and walked to him. “Lark, it’s my duty. I’m the leader of my people. Not Cellach.”
“Just think about it, Anna,” he said. “Please.”
“I will,” she conceded. “But I can’t make any promises.” She drifted into his arms and tried to reclaim the peace she’d felt there earlier. But she could no more shirk her duty than she could cut off her arm. If Lark felt this way about her safety when she would be surrounded by five guards of Aurelia, she worried, how would he feel about her other plan? Would she even be able to tell him about it?
Chapter Fifty-Two—A United Front
The next morning, Anna opened her chamber door, thinking to help Grainne. To her surprise, Lark was just outside, sitting in a chair he had found somewhere.
He smiled up at her. “Good morning, Anna.”
“Did you sleep out here all night?” she asked. Grainne came around the corner with an enormous tray laden with food. Lark just grinned and took the tray from Grainne. Anna’s eyes widened at the amount of baked goods, cheese, and sausages that Doreen had prepared.
“Come in, Lark. I hope you’re hungry,” her maid commented with a lilt in her voice.
She was carrying enough for an army, Anna mused. “Are we having a party?”
“Not yet,” Grainne babbled happily.
“Come on in then, Lark,” Anna said. “Grainne seems to think I’ll have company today.” She held out her hand to help him from the chair. As he rose, he stretched like an old man.
“It serves you right if you’re sore, sitting in that chair all night. You must be exhausted.”
“Oh, it’s not the chair that has made me stiff this morning.” He winked, and then chuckled when her mouth dr
opped open. Anna checked to see if Grainne was listening. Thank goodness, her maid was preoccupied with setting up the banquet. Before Anna could respond, Lark put his arm around her shoulder and ushered her back into the chamber to the waiting food.
A moment later, Baldric poked his head in the door. “Do I smell breakfast?” he asked. Before any could answer, they heard the sound of feet running down the corridor.
“This way!” cried a young girl’s voice.
“No, this way,” called another.
“Where is she?” another pouted.
Suddenly, Baldric was spun like a top as the children from Chevring raced into Anna’s room. “Don’t look at me, m’lady. It was his idea,” Grainne said, tilting her head at Lark. “He asked Doreen to put everything together. With so many people staying in the great hall, it wasn’t such a bad idea.”
Lark had scooped up little Paul, grabbing a sweet bun for the child before they were gone. Anna caught his eye and beamed at him. Not caring in the least that his tunic was now covered in sticky honey from the boy’s messy hands, Lark sat down, the toddler on his lap. He would be a wonderful father, Anna thought, easily picturing him surrounded by his own children.
She realized for the first time that she and Lark had been everything but careful when they had lain together. She resisted the urge to move her hand to her stomach, remembering that she had continued to drink her special tea every day since marrying Roger. Her cycle had come without fail for the last three years.
Lark was regarding her with concern. He was about to set Paul from his lap, but she shook her head and smiled at him.
The children had taken over her room, and the miracle of their survival filled her with joy. Lark relaxed again but continued to check on her every so often.
“Would you like me to take him, Lark?” Anna offered. “You haven’t eaten yet.” He shook his head and reached for one of the last pieces of bread left on the table. She handed him some cheese from her plate to go with it.
Wild Lavender: The Aurelian Guard - Book One Page 26
