by Alexa Aston
It passed after a minute and she patted the horse fondly. Starting toward the building, Merryn heard a noise coming from behind the lodge. She followed it.
She rounded the corner and saw Geoffrey chopping wood. He faced away from her, stripped of his gypon and cotehardie. She watched the ripple of muscles across his naked back as he swung the ax. Desire stirred within her.
He slammed the ax into a stump of wood and brushed his arm across his forehead. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes.
Then he stopped, staring at something in the distance. He walked and bent down. Merryn saw that he picked a single woodland flower and brought it to his nose.
The gesture tore at her heart. Without thought, she ran to him. As she reached him, Geoffrey turned. His eyes lit up and it seemed as if no time had passed at all.
Wordlessly, he bowed and offered her the wildflower. Before she could take it, he teased her with it, brushing it lightly under her nose, tickling her. Merryn laughed with joy.
And then stopped.
She saw the heat flame in his eyes as he looked at her. They stood close. Merryn’s eyes swept over his bare chest, glistening with sweat. She reached a hand out and placed it against where his heart beat rapidly.
“Merryn.” His voice, thick with emotion, jolted her. Her knees wobbled. Before she crumbled, Geoffrey pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
The kiss wrote their story in a matter of seconds. One of longing and desire. Of want and need. Of greediness and impatience. Merryn tasted a bitter sweetness. The cruelty of their long separation. And the ecstasy of their coming together, once again.
Her fingers worked their way into his hair, gripping the wavy locks. His hands roamed her back. Plunged into her hair. Caressed her neck and breasts. Clutched her waist. They wandered to her back again and cupped her buttocks, pulling her closer.
Geoffrey’s mouth grew more insistent, demanding all her attention, branding her as his. Merryn gave in to the kiss with a joyful heart. Her husband had truly returned to her.
Without warning, he swept her from her feet. She laughed against his mouth and sensed his own smile. Her arms tightened about his neck as he carried her to the lodge’s door and opened it. Kicking it closed he released her, pressing her against the same door, capturing her wrists and lifting them over her head. He held them high above her as his body moved against hers.
His mouth began a new assault on hers, almost as if he went to war and had determined he would be the victor no matter what the cost. Again and again his tongue attacked, thrusting in and out, dominating her.
One hand grabbed both her wrists and enslaved them, freeing his other. Geoffrey dragged it through her long locks, stroking her neck, then finding her breast. He palmed it, kneading it, as his lips finally tore from hers and trailed down her slender neck, sending shivers of delight through her.
Her nether regions pounded fiercely, beating stronger than a drum as his hand moved lower. It moved slowly along her ribcage and then across her belly before it dropped lower. Geoffrey cupped her through her clothing. Merryn whimpered, the throbbing stronger than on her wedding night.
Suddenly, he released her hands, his fingers dancing as he unlaced the side of her surcoat. Within seconds, he’d loosened it and pulled it and her kirtle over her head. Now she wore only her smock and hose. Her shoes had been lost somewhere along the way.
With a gleam in his eye, Geoffrey’s fingers ran along the edge of the smock, touching the rise of her bare breasts underneath. Merryn shuddered. He bent and kissed the curve, then his lips dropped to her nipple. He licked it, the thin fabric between them. She shuddered again as his teeth teased her nipple, dragging back and forth. She moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair, drawing him closer.
He lifted his head a moment so he could draw the smock from her shoulders. He pulled it to her waist. Once again, his mouth fastened onto her breast, his tongue quick as lightning, driving her to the point of insanity.
Then he yanked the smock to the ground. She stepped from it and he tossed it aside. Merryn wore only her hose, gartered at each knee.
“You are more beautiful than before,” Geoffrey told her, his voice rough. He gazed up and down her body, and Merryn felt the blush rising. She wiggled, uncomfortable at the attention.
“Do not be embarrassed, my love. I only admire your perfection.” He gave her a wicked grin. “And I must partake of that perfection—else I shall perish.”
He quickly doffed what clothes he still wore and she drank in his body. Her hands ran across his chest, familiarizing herself with it again. They dropped to his erection and she stroked the velvet head till he groaned.
“I cannot wait. I must have you.”
Geoffrey lifted her by the waist and Merryn’s legs wrapped around him. He leaned her against the door as he entered her in a single, quick motion. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders, tightening with each pounding thrust. The throbbing raged out of control now as he pushed into her, over and over.
Without warning, a burst of sunlight came from within her, spreading its glowing warmth, filling her as he did. Their exuberant cries joined in unity. Merryn clung to Geoffrey, overwhelmed as much by their physical coupling as the emotions that tore through her.
He brushed his fingers tenderly against her neck and her face, resting his palms against her cheeks as he kissed her deeply. He broke the kiss and smiled at her.
“I hope you’re ready to come home,” she teased.
“More than ready,” Geoffrey replied. “But I think we should practice our love play a few more times before we return. I would not want all of Kinwick to hear your screams of passion. We shall practice till you can control yourself.”
Merryn threw back her head and laughed.
Chapter 22
They made love twice more. Geoffrey finally believed all could once more be right in his world. Merryn laid nestled in his arms, where she’d always belonged. The years spent apart melted away.
He smoothed her hair with the palm of his hand, then wrapped his fingers around the end of her curls. Fingering the silky texture, he knew he’d finally come home. Home wasn’t a place.
Home was Merryn. His wife. His life.
“I fell asleep each night pretending I held your hand,” she said softly. She stroked the knuckles of the hand that he rested against her belly.
Geoffrey drew her closer but remained silent. How could he tell her how much he had missed her without revealing where he’d been?
“’Twas harder the older Ancel became,” she continued. “The ache in my heart would not heal. Every day I looked at our son, I saw you in him.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I am saddened by the sorrow you have endured. The moment I saw Ancel, it was as if I looked in a mirror deep into my past.” He kissed her neck tenderly, awed that she was his. “And Alys is a younger version of you, my love. I look forward to seeing her grow into the beauty her mother is.”
“Do you?” she asked. Merryn turned in his arms and faced him. “Will you return with me? Will you watch your children grow up? Lead your people? Become the true lord of Kinwick?”
Geoffrey cupped her face with his hands. “I wish to return and take my rightful place. I want to stay by your side and never leave you again, Merryn. Not for a single minute.”
He saw the love for him shining in her eyes and brushed his lips against hers.
“Then let us return to Kinwick. Now.” She eased away from him and stood.
Geoffrey’s eyes roamed her body again. Motherhood had brought more roundness to her breasts. He longed to put another babe in her belly and see it swell as it grew.
They began dressing. Merryn asked, “Did returning to the lodge jog your memory about that day? Do you remember who spirited you away? Or where you were kept for so long?”
Geoffrey couldn’t lie to her anymore. His knightly code of chivalry forbid it.
“You presumed my memory was faulty. I heard you mention a blow to my head.”
<
br /> “Aye. That could explain why you cannot remember where you were.”
Geoffrey walked to her and lifted her hands. He pressed a kiss to the center of each palm. “I never told you that I could not remember. You assumed that.”
She grew still. Her brow creased as she contemplated his words.
“My memory hasn’t played any tricks on me, Merryn.” His eyes met hers. “I have given my oath. I cannot tell you where I was.”
Her jaw dropped. Understanding—then anger—sparked in her blue eyes. She snatched her hands from his and in her fury, slapped him hard.
“Did you stay away deliberately?” she fumed. “All those years, I had to be strong for the people of Kinwick. I prayed for the moment you would return to me. Dreamed of it. Like a fool.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. Angry tears spilled down her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, they flamed in fury.
“I wanted you to be proud of me. I had faith that you would return, but you are here—and I still feel alone. Empty. How can you look at me and tell me you know exactly where you were and why you left and remained away, yet you refuse to share the details with me? Where is the trust between us?”
Merryn began pacing the room, her voice rising in hysteria. “I kept everything going. Everything. For you. In your name. In your memory. Through the long days and nights. The lonely times. God helped me find the strength to somehow carry on.”
She stopped and faced him, her face full of anguish. “You’re still my everything, Geoffrey. You always will be. Yet you give me nothing in return. You gave me more during the years you were gone than you do now. You gave me my children. My position. The authority to become a leader. But now?”
Her eyes sparked with anger. Merryn slapped him again with a brutality that almost broke his spirit. Geoffrey grabbed her arms and jerked her to him.
“Nay,” he ground out. “I did what I had to do to survive. To come home to you. You’ve seen the physical scars I bear, Merryn, but the deeper ones are hidden within my heart.”
Geoffrey thought for a moment, then continued. “I give you my love. My life. My promise that I shall never leave you again. No one shall ever tear us asunder.”
She struggled in his arms, fighting to get away, but his fingers tightened as steel bands. He’d lost years with this woman. He couldn’t lose her again.
“I’ll never let you go, Merryn. Never.”
His mouth crashed down to claim hers. She twisted away, but he captured her head with his hands and then her lips with his. The searing kiss meant to punish her for lashing out at him, for her words had cut him to the quick. But the love between them was too strong. Soon, she clutched his shoulders, whimpering at his touch.
Geoffrey kissed her with passion and longing, wanting to prove to her how deeply his love for her ran. Merryn returned his kiss, the urgency binding them together as one. They stumbled toward the bed, ripping clothes off, once again making love as the afternoon light began to fade.
Finally spent, they lay exhausted, their limbs entwined, their foreheads pressed together.
Merryn was the first to pull away. She swung her legs from the bed and began dressing. From her jerky movements, Geoffrey could see her anger had returned.
“I don’t know how to soothe you, my love,” he said as he reached for his gypon and slipped it over his head.
Her eyes narrowed. “You could tell me where you were and what kept you from me,” she snapped.
He shook his head. “Nay. You ask the impossible of me.”
“What of our marriage vows? Your word to me? How can you not trust me? Your wife?”
“I cannot break my word, Merryn. You know I believe a man’s word sums up his whole character. The code of chivalry demands that I live by honor. If I shared with you what you seek to know, it would mean I must break my word to another. That I can never do.”
Merryn’s eyes looked as cold as a deadly snake’s as she stared at him. “Then I wish you had never come back,” she hurled at him.
They finished dressing in silence. He tried to catch her eye, but she stared at the ground. She left the room without a backward glance.
Geoffrey followed her downstairs. He stood in the doorway and watched her mount Destiny. He hadn’t a clue how to win Merryn back—and he couldn’t blame her. A husband and wife should share everything between them, yet he denied her the very knowledge that he owed her.
But he would never give her up. He would return to Kinwick. Somehow, they must work this out. The hours they’d spent together today let him know love still existed between them. He would find a way to bring them together while he continued to keep his promise to Hardie.
Geoffrey unhitched Mystery and swung a leg over to mount the horse. He would follow Merryn at a distance. Her anger always erupted quickly and then ended the same. Mayhap by the time they reached the castle, her temper might have cooled once more.
He reined in Mystery when he saw a flash of color ahead in the forest. He glimpsed Merryn’s light blue gown, but someone else had joined her and halted her progress. Geoffrey slid from Mystery’s back and wrapped the reins around a bush. He crept toward the riders in the distance.
As he drew close, he recognized his cousin’s voice.
“. . . so I waited for you.”
“You did not have to do that, Raynor.”
“I could not leave you unprotected in these woods, Merryn. If Geoffrey is too stubborn to make amends to you and accompany you to his own home, then I certainly can escort you there.”
“Thank you, Raynor. You have been a faithful friend to me.”
“Merryn.”
Geoffrey drew in a sharp breath at the tenderness he heard in that one word. From behind the tree where he hid, he saw Raynor take Merryn’s hand.
“I love you. I have always loved you. From the day I met you. Despite the fact that you belonged to Geoffrey, thoughts of you filled my mind, all these many years.”
“Raynor!”
“No. Let me finish. My heart broke as I’ve watched you all this time, pining for a man who would never return. And when he did, he is so changed that he should no longer be considered worthy of you.”
Geoffrey watched as Raynor moved his horse closer and took her chin in hand. “And when the king sent his messenger to you last week, I knew it was to marry you off again. He cannot, Merryn. I will not allow it. Geoffrey is no longer the man for you. You must seek an annulment from the Church. He has been driven mad by whatever happened to him. He can no longer be a husband to you. Not the way I can. I love you. I love the twins. We could have a happy life together.”
Geoffrey stumbled back. He turned and trudged toward his horse, unwinding the reins. Numbness invaded him. He quietly mounted Mystery and rode back in the direction of the lodge.
Merryn might have had a normal life if he hadn’t turned up again. Raynor was a good man and would be a decent father to his children. He could give Merryn more children. Geoffrey’s absence all these years had denied her that.
And so much more.
Guilt washed through him. Coming back had been a selfish mistake—but one that he could repair. He could take his own life and then Merryn would be free to marry again. His soul was already damned. He’d already spent years in Hell. Without Merryn’s faith in him, he no longer wanted to live.
More than anything, Geoffrey loved his wife enough to do what it would take to make her happy. He’d hurt her more than he had realized. He refused to continue to be a burden to her.
The time to contemplate was over. He knew the sacrifice he must make.
Geoffrey slipped from Mystery’s back but let the reins drop to the ground so that the horse could go free. He pulled out a knife from his boot, one that he’d found in the lodge and used to kill some game during the past few days.
Dropping to his knees, he raised his eyes to the heavens as tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Merciful Father, I ask your forgiveness for what I do. Please kee
p my sweet Merryn safe. Bring some happiness into her life, for I have made it miserable since I returned. I am no longer the husband she married and the man she loved. I am not worthy. Bless her and my children, Father. What I do, I do for her.”
And then Geoffrey slashed the blade across his wrist.
Chapter 23
“No!”
Geoffrey turned and saw Raynor ride into the clearing. His cousin leapt from his steed and rushed to him.
But not before he swiped the blade across his wrist again.
Raynor charged into him, knocking them both to the ground. The knife fell from Geoffrey’s hand. Raynor grabbed the dagger and flung it into the trees.
“God’s wounds, Geoffrey! What are you doing?” His cousin stood and then pulled him to his feet. Raynor tore a strip of cloth from his gypon and grabbed Geoffrey’s arm, shoving the sleeve up to bind the wound.
A small trickle of blood dribbled along Geoffrey’s wrist where he had twice tried to cut into the thickly-scarred flesh. Frowning, Raynor yanked the arm closer and examined it. Then without speaking, his cousin dragged him inside the hunting lodge. He found a bucket of water and bathed the cut skin in it before winding the cloth around it for protection.
Raynor seethed with anger. “Who did that to you, Geoffrey? Those scars run so deep that despite your frantic slashing, you barely punctured your skin.”
Geoffrey walked away and sat, knowing he must remain silent. Raynor followed him and took the chair opposite him.
“Why should you care?” Geoffrey finally asked. “You want me gone. I want the same. ’Twould be better for Merryn if I no longer existed.” His eyes met Raynor’s. “I heard your conversation in the forest. You declared your love for her. You begged her to seek an annulment.”
His cousin turned a dull red. “I am sorry that you did. But you obviously did not hear all of it.” Raynor ran a hand through his hair. “Merryn rejected me. She only wants you.”
